A hint of approval flashed through Su Yang's eyes. He said slowly, "Remember—I have never abandoned the Witch Clan. Your calamity of losing your head was ordained by Heaven. Now that you have entered my Daoist temple, cultivate in peace. When the Witch Clan shines once more across the Primordial World, that responsibility will rest on your shoulders."
Xing Tian's entire body shook violently, his voice trembling as he kowtowed repeatedly. "Thank you, Saint! Thank you, Saint, for your mercy!"
Su Yang lightly flicked his sleeve. Space split open in response, and Xing Tian's figure vanished in a flash. The Daoist temple stretched vast and boundless for hundreds of millions of li. Everywhere, wondrous peaks breathed in Innate Spiritual Energy, while the essence of the stars fell like rain. The moment Xing Tian landed, he became intoxicated by this majestic Spiritual Charm. He bowed three times from afar toward Su Yang, then chose a beautiful mountain summit, cleaved open a cave abode, and sank into self-forgetting, arduous cultivation.
Su Yang turned to Feng Yanran. "Yanran, staying here for so long is enough. Why not take a trip to the Earthly Immortal Realm—live as an ordinary pair of immortal companions, roam the mountains and waters, gaze at the stars, and listen to the wind? It may even greatly aid our comprehension of the Supreme Principles of Heaven and Earth."
"Mm, I'll do as Husband says." She lowered her brows and smiled faintly, as gentle and obedient as ever.
Su Yang said no more. A gentle woman was truly irresistible; even a Saint could not remain unmoved. Yet this tenderness belonged to only one person.
Auspicious clouds rose beneath their feet. He held Feng Yanran close as they drifted gracefully westward, toward Dongsheng Shenzhou.
The Nine Li Rebellion had finally been quelled,