Sylas lost his memory. He looked at me warily and asked who I was. With the pure, malicious intent of destroying his cultivation path, I smiled sweetly and replied, "I'm your wife." He didn't believe me, but I knew him like the back of my hand. He liked dark colors, drank strong tea, and practiced his swordplay every morning at 7 AM sharp. After a thousand years as sworn enemies, I knew every mole on his back. He had no choice but to believe me and quickly accepted the role. But... who wrote this "doting husband" script? Why is it that the moment I break character and show a little anger, he flips his robes and kneels?! And uses his tongue to please me in every way... Sylas, where is your backbone?! 1 Sylas and I were sworn enemies. Mortal enemies. How exactly we became enemies is lost to the ages. Cultivating immortality takes a long time, and my memory isn't what it used to be. I just remember we never got along. Couldn't stand the sight of each other. I was pure Yin, he was pure Yang. People used to ship us. But we fought so fiercely that eventually, no one dared to utter such death-wish nonsense. Our dojos were both in the East, and our disciples occasionally clashed. A thousand years of friction built up into a big one, so as the grandmasters, we stepped out to fight it out. Under the eager gazes of disciples from both sides, he and I stood in mid-air, sizing each other up for weaknesses. To be fair, Sylas was extremely good-looking. Sword-like eyebrows slanted towards his temples, eyes pure black like a cold pool reflecting stars under thick lashes—deep and chilling. A high nose bridge, thin lips that hinted at unquestionable killing intent when pursed. If he would just smile, he'd be a dashing gentleman like the bright moon and fresh breeze. Unfortunately, his aura was too heavy, radiating an inhumane coldness. In his black Daoist robes, he had the imposing presence of a towering mountain. His stare made my heart race. I didn't know if I'd win or lose this round. He was a Lightning Heavenly Spiritual Root, cultivating the Ruthless Dao. I was a Chaos Five Spiritual Root, cultivating the Carefree Dao. He had one sword to conquer heaven and earth; I mastered every unorthodox trick in the book. After a long standoff, Sylas swung his sword. I tapped my toes, drifting back like a flowing cloud. Using the "Ripple Steps" taught by the Ripple Fairy, his majestic sword energy didn't even touch the hem of my clothes. "Move one." I held up a finger, a formation disk already silently dropped from my sleeve. Instantly, fog rose, hiding killing intent. Sylas sneered. "Xu Fang's Confusion Formation? Unorthodox tr—" Before he could finish, three blood-red sword energies shot out from the formation—Xu Fang's improved Three Talents Deadly Formation. He blocked hastily, but his sleeve was still sliced open. Twang! I took out the Hook Moon Pipa, ten fingers flying. Demonic music rose, weeping and complaining. Si Miyuan's Soul-Breaking Tune echoed in the formation, specifically targeting the clear Dao heart of a sword cultivator. Sylas faltered slightly, fine sweat beading on his forehead. "Move two." I held up another finger, throwing out seventy-two talismans while his mind was shaken. Boom boom boom! Gongsun Che's Explosive Sound Talismans covered the sky, blasting the clouds away. Sylas's face finally changed. His sword danced like a rainbow, yet a talisman still grazed his cheek, leaving a scorch mark. "Well?" I stood with my hands behind my back, a pill pouch from the Pill Sect at my waist, a hidden crossbow from the Weapon Sect in my sleeve, and Void-Breaking Talismans from the Talisman Sect on my boots. "Does Sword Saint Sylas still think these are just unorthodox tricks?" He wiped the blood from his face and suddenly smiled. "Interesting." His sword stance changed abruptly, manifesting thousands of sword shadows. My heart tightened. I quickly formed a hand seal, barely executing the Puppet Sect's Golden Cicada Shell Shedding. The substitute puppet I left behind was shredded by sword energy. "Move three is mine." Sylas's voice suddenly rang in my ear. I leaned back sharply, a gleam of sword light grazing my nose. I was about to counterattack, but realized the ties of my pill pouch and hidden crossbow had been cut by sword energy at some point. "You..." "Jack of all trades, master of none." With a light flick of his sword tip, my last talisman shattered in mid-air. "But indeed..." When his long sword pointed at me, the corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "Disgusting enough." "You lose," he said flatly. I tilted my head and smiled. "Sword Saint Sylas might want to look at his feet." He looked down. Seven Bone-Penetrating Nails hovered in the air, pinning the hem of his robe. Each nail was connected to a nearly invisible Heavenly Silkworm Thread—the Tang Sect's most insidious Seven Star Soul Lock. "A draw?" I blinked. "Or mutual destruction?" Sylas stared at me for a long time, then suddenly sheathed his sword. As he turned, I distinctly saw his mouth twitch. "Fu Yunqian, your methods are truly..." "Disgusting?" I supplied. "...Interesting." Watching his figure receding on his sword, I realized my back was soaked in cold sweat. Collecting the scattered debris, my fingers trembled slightly. If his sword had advanced half an inch more, or if I hadn't set the hidden weapons in time... A breeze blew, scattering the talisman paper and remnant formations. Looking at the sword light disappearing into the sea of clouds, I suddenly laughed out loud. His sword couldn't touch me, my tricks couldn't trap him. But the post-war losses were severe. Calculating the cost, I was overcome with grief. Formation disks broken, pipa smashed, talismans depleted, robes sliced with holes big and small. Since becoming an ancestor, when had I been this pathetic? Not even a thousand years of rest later, those brats in my sect caused trouble again. Big trouble. Negotiations turned into shouting matches, and then the two of us were up again. I was truly annoyed. Every fight destroyed a batch of magical treasures; repairs couldn't keep up with the damage. After a few rounds, looking at the pile of broken treasures in the warehouse, my heart bled. Both at the Immortal Venerable realm, our fights shook the earth and wasted resources. I didn't know about him, but I was going broke. Building the Clear Music Palace wasn't easy. Starting as a rogue cultivator, my ascension was arduous. Without good techniques, one is an ant in the Upper Realm, disdained by all. I stole techniques everywhere, learning from hundreds of schools, barely gaining a foothold. After untold hardships, I finally occupied a dojo and passed down my teachings. Was it easy for me? No. The Heavens are cruel to me! Alas! "Master, stop chanting..." "Sigh... Zizhen, we need a permanent solution. If this nemesis doesn't die, my heart won't rest." Xu Zizhen fanned me while leaning in to offer advice. After muttering for a long time, we looked at each other and simultaneously revealed a dirty smile. 2 Immortal Venerables have thousands of incarnations. Kill him, and there will be another Sylas. But the Ruthless Dao has a fatal flaw: one cannot be moved by emotion. Make him fall in love, destroy his Dao foundation, and thousands of incarnations will meet their end together. I wasn't the first to try this. The Eastern Sword Saint was frosty as the moon, aloof, restrained, and abstinent. Who wouldn't want a night with such a handsome man? Not to mention his Immortal Essence was pure Yang—tens of thousands of years of virgin vitality. Every female cultivator drooled, but all returned in defeat. The Ruthless Dao forbids lust and love. It was like winking at a blind man. Some tried force, but the Resoluteness Sword Technique was no joke. Drug him? Stabbed. Ambush him? Stabbed. His Dao heart was so firm that not a drop of Yang essence had leaked in all these years. Soft or hard, he wouldn't bite. Tricky... Luckily, I recently acquired a new technique. My main body stayed in the Clear Music Pool, while I created a True Immortal clone to infiltrate the Bright Soul Sect and learn a secret art. This art allows viewing others' memories without discomfort. Even deleting or sealing a segment. If I sealed Sylas's memories of cultivation... No matter how stone-hearted he is, surely he was easier to handle as a child? Under my instructions, Zizhen caused chaos. Sylas came out with his sword again. He met my eyes once and chased relentlessly. Fighting and retreating, I lured him into an illusion array under the cover of clouds. Mist formed into my likeness, attacking from all sides. I manifested as many clones as I knew secret techniques. Though illusions, hacking through them all exhausted him. I waited patiently for a hundred years. His sword was still sharp, but his spirit was exhausted. Clear notes hooked the soul. I teleported behind him, concealing my presence, fingers lightly touching his temples. A flying sword attacked rapidly, blocked by my defensive treasure. He turned, grabbing my wrist tightly, his gaze sharp, a sword at my neck again. "It's okay... have a good sleep, it's okay..." Lips parting slightly, I blew bewildering smoke into his face. He faltered for a moment, and I seized the chance, my divine will piercing his mind. He shook his head, struggling, then fell straight into my arms. "Despicable, falling right onto my chest." I slapped him twice casually. While he slept, I sealed all his memories of cultivation. 3 Sylas woke up staring at me warily, brows furrowed, radiating coldness. I wondered if the amnesia worked when he asked, "Who are you?" Really amnesiac. As expected of me. I smiled sweetly. "I'm your wife. You hit your head just now, does it still hurt?" My hand reached out but was blocked. "Nonsense. I never had a wife." I clutched my chest, acting heartbroken. "We've been married for two years, always loving. How can you say such things, husband?" He looked around. I had used illusions to build a civilian house here. Modeled after his hobbies, the yard had my favorite flowers and a place for him to practice swordsmanship. A large rock on one side was covered in slash marks. He stroked the sword marks, believing three-tenths of it. Then I coaxed him to sit and eat. He liked strong liquor but wasn't greedy; I poured him half a cup. His taste was light, mostly bamboo shoots and fish. Poor me, having not cooked for tens of thousands of years, the taste wasn't great. He took a few bites. "You usually cook?" I bit my lip, shy and annoyed. "If you weren't injured, who would cook for you?" Sylas's brows relaxed. He tested me constantly; I was watertight. After thousands of years as enemies, I knew him inside out, down to the moles on his back. "I believe you. Actually, seeing you for the first time, my heart raced and palms sweated. I must have had deep love for you." That... I looked away guiltily. That was probably deep killing intent... In the days that followed, he did the cooking, negotiating with the fake people I created to buy groceries. Seeing him unsuspicious, I smirked. My illusion arrays were getting more realistic. "Yunqian, how about steamed bass today?" I shuddered, forcing a perfect smile. "Sure, whatever husband makes is delicious." Once he entered the kitchen, I almost puked. Since believing we were married, he cared for me in every way. Calling me "Yunqian" and "Wife" made my scalp tingle. The sacrifice was great, but thinking of his shattered Dao heart and him at my mercy, I endured. At night, I tugged his sleeve, swaying and acting coquettish. He repeated, "Memories haven't returned, cannot be improper," and took a candle to the study. I lay lazily on the bed, yawning. I knew it. Sylas was rigorously, even pedantically, proper. No way he'd really sleep in the same bed. I just found his awkwardness amusing and wanted to tease him. Seeing the usually cold Eastern Sword Saint flustered and shy was truly interesting. 4 As time passed, I checked his Dao heart every night. Stable as a tortoise shell. I tried harder—holding hands, acting cute, almost burrowing into his arms. That damn Dao heart remained firm. Maybe... he didn't like my type? I looked in the mirror. Peach blossom eyes, ripples of charm in a smile. Unbeatable allure. Clothes were a bit conservative, but I was reluctant to sacrifice that much. Why not send someone else? Isn't it said a wife is worse than a concubine? So one day, a pure, fragile woman tripped and fell towards him. He retreated quickly. The beauty hit the ground hard. Hiding in the dark, my heart ached. That puppet was made of top-tier materials. That night, I remolded her face—flamboyant, bright, in red robes. Failed again. I tried repeatedly. He ignored them and walked away. Are puppets just puppets, lacking soul? I hooked her chin. She gave me a weeping, complaining look that melted my heart. My puppets were absolutely fine. Is he the problem? Does he like men? That's easy. I summoned Xu Zizhen, forcing him to change clothes until one look satisfied me. Ethereal white robes, tight waist, handsome and jade-like. I stroked my chin, scanning him. Xu Zizhen hugged his arms, shivering. "Master... what are you doing? I'm your own disciple..." "My dear disciple, settling my lifelong enemy depends on you." So Xu Zizhen entered the city as a distant cousin and stayed with us. Sylas didn't reject him but wasn't warm either. A day passed with no progress. I called Xu Zizhen to discuss tactics. While the two strategists whispered, Sylas suddenly pushed the door open. "Food's ready. Yunqian must be hungry." I exchanged a guilty look with Zizhen, then gauged Sylas's expression. He probably didn't hear much. During the meal, Xu Zizhen winked at me, signaling: "Sylas cooks pretty well." I glared at him: "Focus on business!" Sylas was oblivious to our eye signals. But that night, he didn't go to the study. "Your cousin is here. If I sleep in the study, he'll think we're discordant." He walked towards the bed. My fake smile almost cracked. This... this... "What's wrong, Yunqian? You look pale." He leaned over, gently stroking my cheek, thumb rubbing the corner of my lips repeatedly. Hidden darkness in his eyes, staring at me dead on. My hackles rose. "Nothing... just used to being alone these days..." "Is that so..." His eyes still probed, even aggressive. Is he suspicious?! How much did he hear? His thumb pressed heavily on my lips, grinding. A test... I endured the discomfort of violation. "Husband, you're hurting me." I dodged lightly, but he grabbed my jaw and turned me back. His lowered lashes trembled, but his fingers were worse, probing inside. "These days... I've wronged you, wife." He leaned in slowly, eyes fixed on me, and kissed. Numbness shot up my spine. Being kissed by a nemesis—the impact was intense. I gripped the sheets, controlling my expression, resisting the urge to push him away. At first just rubbing, then he started nibbling, biting my lips lightly. Filled with aggression, like a beast confirming its prey's scent. Seemingly thirsty, he sucked like drawing water, changing angles, kissing harder. I struggled, only to be lifted and placed on his lap, him burying his head to kiss. Breathing heavily, the assault intensified, tongue tip trying to enter. I clamped shut. He pinched the back of my neck, coaxing: "Yunqian, open up, let me in." Heartbeat in chaos. Meeting his eyes burning with dark fire, I felt danger. "Didn't Yunqian say we were a loving couple? Why reject intimacy?" ... Just a kiss! I'm not afraid of his pure Yang body. I kissed back with the resolve of death. Oof... teeth clashed. "Silly Yunqian..." He chuckled, holding my neck and kissing, breath scorching, demanding endlessly. My lips were swollen, clothes rumpled. Checking his Dao heart again... still stable... SYLAS!!!
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