Though business at Mingyan Tower had significantly slowed due to the Tianyuan Empire's encroaching armies and the notorious bloodlust of the Fangzhu Nation, it remained one of the largest pleasure houses in all of Yunjing, ensuring a steady stream of patrons even in lean times.

The entire tower now blazed with light, the air thick with a pervasive, rosy haze.

Yet, in a room atop the highest floor of Mingyan Tower, Jiufeng, clad in a sheer black gown, sat impassively, listening to the reports flooding in from her subordinates.

Because the Fangzhu Nation was so savagely murderous, slaughtering even common folk, wherever their armies passed, the influence of Mingyan Tower was utterly annihilated. Consequently, she still lacked any direct, credible intelligence; all she knew was that this Fangzhu Nation leader was pathologically bloodthirsty—a true demon—and the imperial court of the Tianyuan Empire had done nothing to stop him.

Staring at the useless scraps of data in her hand, a furious expression twisted across her exquisitely beautiful face.

“A group of useless fools! You can’t even relay the most basic information? What good are you?” With a sharp crack, she slammed her palm onto the table, shattering the documents into dust.

“Ayu, how can I help you? I can’t get any news about him at all right now!” Gazing at the pile of confetti on the table, Jiufeng murmured listlessly, raising her head only to find a figure standing silently before her.

Jiufeng’s heart leaped. She focused her gaze, and her breath hitched in stunned recognition.

He was clad in a magnificent robe of black brocade, cinched at the waist with a silver belt, his waist-length, snow-white hair flowing down his back. His face, fairer and more delicate than any woman's, held the shadow of a faint smile.

“Ayu?” Jiufeng rubbed her eyes in disbelief, certain she was hallucinating. How could the man she yearned for incessantly suddenly appear here?

“Yes, Jiufeng, it is I!” Ye Jingyu offered a gentle smile, his eyes flashing fleetingly with guilt, pain, and regret.

“Ayu, is it really you? You… how did you get here?” Only after hearing Ye Jingyu’s voice did Jiufeng snap back to reality. Her body instinctively rose, and she rushed to his side, grasping his arms tightly, as if needing tactile proof that he wasn't an apparition.

“I came to see you!” Ye Jingyu said with a soft smile.

“Ayu…” That simple declaration—I came to see you—effortlessly shattered the composure Jiufeng had maintained for so long. The accumulated longing of days exploded outward, and her entire body instinctively collapsed into his embrace.

Ye Jingyu did not resist. In this moment, he could not refuse this woman who had always loved him so deeply. Memories of the Southern Wasteland Forest flooded his mind: the innocent girl, the slightly darker-skinned girl, the one who poured all her devotion onto him.

So many years had passed, yet her love had never wavered. Even after he married other women, she continued to support him silently from the shadows. At least half the crucial intelligence relayed by Yaoniao had originated from Jiufeng.

She was a disciple of the Rakshasa Sect; the most favored student of the Blood Rakshasa. The Mingyan Tower she founded was also Sect property, yet she used it to channel information for him. She did all this silently, never seeking recognition, never even wanting him to know of her efforts.

Ye Jingyu understood; he wasn't a fool. He knew and comprehended everything she did, but what could he do?

Did he love her? He didn't know. All he truly knew was that beyond the guilt churning within him, there was something else for Jiufeng. But he was conflicted. Could a man truly love two people at once? Luo Ling'er already held his heart; was there room for another? If he opened his heart to another, did that mean his love for Luo Ling'er was diminished? He had long been trapped in this confusion, and this very bewilderment was what kept him from confronting his relationship with Jiufeng—or perhaps, it was simply avoidance.

However, now, with the Fangzhu Nation pressing relentlessly forward, and knowing their true terror, he understood that certain questions could no longer be evaded, nor could they be ignored—just as he could not shirk the responsibility for the safety of the entire Southern Cloud Empire.

So, he had come.

Gently stroking the smooth curve of Jiufeng’s back, softly inhaling her intoxicating fragrance, Ye Jingyu’s heart slowly began to settle on an answer.

“Jiufeng, I’m sorry,” he said at last, long after the trembling in the figure held close to him began to subside.

Sorry—not because he didn't love her, nor because he couldn't accept her, but sorry for having perpetually fled from the feelings between them.

If Luo Ling'er was a mirror, compelling Ye Jingyu to constantly scrutinize himself, then Jiufeng was a harbor where he could rest when weary. Luo Ling'er gave him joy, the fire of life, and a carefree existence. Jiufeng, however, offered him warmth, tenderness, and the feeling of a wife…

Yes. Even though he had married Luo Ling'er, even though his heart belonged to Luo Ling'er, the only one who gave him the sensation of a wife was Jiufeng. A woman who silently cared for him, who silently supported him; only she gave him the feeling of home… It was a contradictory sensation, yet it was undeniably real.

And what had he done? Because he feared confronting these emotions, he had continuously pushed her away. Was that fair to her?

“Ayu, I understand! Don't say anything; I understand everything,” Hearing Ye Jingyu’s self-reproach, a warmth spread through Jiufeng’s heart. Just as Ye Jingyu felt about her, she needed no explanation; she knew precisely what his apology meant. The very moment he appeared, she understood why he had come. Like a wife who has lived with her husband for many years, she understood every facet of Ye Jingyu.

Looking into Jiufeng’s eyes, which seemed strangely deep and knowing, Ye Jingyu realized he didn't need to say more; she grasped his entirety. Yet, there were certain things he felt compelled to articulate, even if she already knew.

“Jiufeng, perhaps this is the last time I’ll be able to see you…” Ye Jingyu had only spoken halfway when a slender, pale, delicate hand covered his lips.

“Don’t say it. Whatever decision you make, I will support you. Always and forever—whether in action or in spirit.”

A few simple words, yet they contained the obsession that had held Jiufeng captive for countless years. Ye Jingyu said no more. He knew that whatever he chose to say, she would understand.