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"Just as I thought." The Evil Drought Demon gave a bitter laugh. "You came for her again. Sometimes I truly envy her. She's only a fragment of my Divine Sense, yet she grew up loved and cherished. She had it so much better than I did. If my parents had given me a little more unconditional love, if my friends had stood by me without hesitation, I wouldn't have been consumed by resentment and driven down this road to hell."

"Why? Why couldn't I be her?" She slowly raised her eyes, madness swirling within them. "Ye Qingchuan, she's dead. Why don't you... why don't you pretend I'm her?"

With that, the Evil Drought Demon threw herself into Ye Qingchuan's arms and tried to kiss his crimson lips.

The familiar fragrance of peach blossoms filled his nose. Flames blazed in her eyes, as though she wanted to burn with him. Desire stirred through Ye Qingchuan's body. Before him was the face he loved, the face he had longed to see day and night. It was hard to refuse her.

But after a struggle, he pushed her away. "You're not her." His voice was cold.

"If you give yourself to me, perhaps I'll help you save her," the Evil Drought Demon coaxed.

"Didn't you say there was no way?"

"It isn't entirely impossible. In the Elder Divine Domain, there's a supreme soul artifact—the Soul-Conjoining Lamp. It can draw her Divine Soul from my Spiritual Platform. After forty-nine days in the lamp, she'll become a new, independent soul."

"As long as you help me save her, I'll do anything." Ye Qingchuan stiffly leaned in, bringing his lips toward hers.

A cool fragrance swept over her. The Evil Drought Demon drew a deep breath, her heart trembling, and prepared to catch his tempting lips