GD Ch. 51 Part 2

Chapter 51: Why Was She So Good To Her?

Zhuyou did not answer. From beginning to end, she did not utter a single word.

“You stole the ancient god’s incarnation and attempted to harm the Phoenix Clan’s Jingyi—do you acknowledge your crime?”

“The return of the two gods was meant to aid the Heavenly Realm in suppressing the devils. Yet now, Jingyi’s soul remains incomplete, her past unclear—while you harbor murderous intent. Have you, perhaps, already been consumed by devilish desires?”

As soon as the question fell, murmurs spread through the crowd. Suspended in mid-air, the phoenix girl bore the weight of their accusations alone.

The ancient god’s incarnation…

Wasn’t that her?

A chill crept into Changying’s heart—Impossible. When Zhuyou took her from the Dragon Palace, she didn’t even know what she was, let alone that she was some ancient god’s incarnation.

But… had she really tried to harm Jingyi?

Changying hadn’t witnessed it herself—she couldn’t say for certain. But deep down, she didn’t believe it.

Zhuyou’s entire phoenix bone was eventually pulled from her back. All the divine power drained from her body, and her long black hair turned silver-white in an instant.

Her head hung low, and her wounded body trembled. The tendons inside both arms had already been severed.

So that’s how it happened…

Changying finally understood. The long, twisting scar on Zhuyou’s arm—this was how she got it. She had her immortal bone extracted and her tendons severed here on the Execution Platform.

Suspended in mid-air, Zhuyou never once lifted her eyes, never once spoke. She refused to admit her guilt.

“Have you already turned to the devil’s path?” the Phoenix Clan god asked again.

At that moment, devilish winds surged through the air.

Zhuyou, who had kept her head down all this time, suddenly raised her chin. Though her eyes were still vacant, the black devil aura radiated outward, shattering the chains binding her limbs.

A fierce wind howled, and the divine light above was swallowed by the black mist, plunging the world into shadow.

The winds raged as if the Devil Lord himself had returned.

The executioner’s question had barely been asked—

And she…

She chose to become a devil.

As if she was doing it out of spite—You want to know if I’ve turned devil? Here—watch me.

When the divine maiden fell into darkness, the heavens grew dim, and the cries of a hundred birds filled the air.

From the open wound on her back, a black devil bone grew swiftly. Though her body was weak, the moment she broke free from the chains, she burst through the ranks of heavenly soldiers and fell into the Devil Realm in her true form.

The Execution Platform erupted in chaos, but none of the weeping birds tried to stop her.

Changying snapped back to reality, withdrawing her hand abruptly. She cast a cold, meaningful glance at the trembling phoenix before her and said, “Why is it that you only forget what you should remember?”

Jingyi still didn’t dare to lift her head. As she swallowed nervously, the muscles in her throat twitched slightly.

“Has your divine hun soul fully recovered?” Changying asked coolly.

“Yes,” Jingyi answered hurriedly.

Changying spread her five fingers and swept her palm across Jingyi’s forehead. Sure enough, her immortal hun soul was intact. Feigning ignorance, she asked, “How was it restored?”

“I… I used a Burning-Heart Wood,” Jingyi stammered.

“And where did the Burning-Heart Wood come from? Why did I find no trace of it in your sea of consciousness?” Each of Changying’s words cut sharply, striking directly at the heart of the matter.

Jingyi’s gaze darted evasively as she bit her lower lip.

“Speak.” Changying curled her fingers slightly. Without touching her, a wisp of spiritual energy lifted Jingyi’s chin as if an invisible hand had seized it.

Forced to raise her head, a bead of cold sweat slid down Jingyi’s temple. “It—it was a gift from my father.”

Her appearance was plain—two eyes, a nose, and a mouth—but there was not the slightest resemblance to Zhuyou.

“A Burning-Heart Wood can only be obtained from Phoenix Tribulation Flames. Acquiring it is a matter of life and death. Who gave it to you?” Changying’s expression remained impassive as she continued, “If you do not answer, I will summon your father myself.”

“It was my elder sister!” Jingyi blurted out in panic.

“Elder sister?” Changying repeated slowly.

“Yes—Zhuyou,” Jingyi finally confessed.

Changying did not scold her for lying but instead, with a chilling gaze, remarked, “She treats you quite well.”

Jingyi could not discern the deeper meaning behind those words. Seeing that the Divine Venerable asked no more questions, she timidly raised a hand to wipe the sweat from her brow.

Xuanqing, who had been silently observing, did not avoid the conversation. As the ruler of the Heavenly Palace, there was nothing for him to shy away from. He did not interject, assuming that the Divine Venerable’s urgency stemmed from seeking an old friend.

After all, it was meant to be two ancient gods who descended to subdue the devils—yet only she had returned to the Heavenly Palace. Naturally, her heart would be troubled.

Changying’s heart was indeed unsettled. The drop of blood within her burned fiercely, stirring unease. She had always believed that devil to be heartless—yet unexpectedly…

Even if it meant facing death, Zhuyou had still retrieved her Burning-Heart Wood for the sake of this little bird.

Perhaps it was the heat from that blood, but Changying felt an unfamiliar agitation rise within her. Yet after suppressing it, a seed of doubt grew—Was it really Zhuyou who gave it to her?

Jingyi remained motionless, her legs stiff from standing. With both the Divine Venerable and the Heavenly Emperor present, how could she dare to speak out of turn?

Xuanqing finally asked, “Is there anything else Your Divinity wishes to inquire about?”

“Nothing more,” Changying replied, though she extended a single finger.

With the slight movement of her slender, pale finger, Jingyi felt a sudden pain on her scalp. A strand of black hair drifted softly into Changying’s palm.

As she closed her hand, the hair disappeared—already secured for future use.

Immortals do not shed hair easily. By taking a strand, Changying ensured she could track Jingyi’s movements while tending to other matters.

She was never a merciful god. Even if she uncovered those who had framed Zhuyou, she would not grant them an easy death. Instead, she would make them suffer slowly—like the mortal punishment of being flayed alive—until they tasted unending agony.

With a flick of her hand, she signaled that Jingyi could leave.

Jingyi hastily bowed, retreating in a flurry of panic, lacking the dignity a Phoenix Clan princess ought to possess.

Compared to Zhuyou, she falls far too short, Changying thought.

Xuanqing raised his hand and gestured. “Your Divinity, this way, please.”

Changying gave a slight nod. Her posture remained upright as she walked—her bearing aloof and otherworldly, far beyond that of ordinary beings.

“I hear Your Divinity possesses a devil sword,” Xuanqing remarked, hands clasped behind his back.

Changying did not deny it. “Indeed. When I first encountered that sword, the heavens and earth had only just opened. Mortals were trapped in endless suffering while gods waged war. The sword was born bathed in malice, and its aura is fiercely destructive.”

As one tasked with subduing devils, it was fitting for her to wield such a weapon.

A sword like that—fierce and bloodthirsty—was far more suited for battle than any divine artifact.

Xuanqing raised no objections and instead asked, “The devil’s domain is now sealed, but the Devil Lord’s two hun souls remain missing. We suspect it has entered the Mortal Realm. What are your thoughts, Your Divinity?

“I know where the Devil Lord’s two hun souls were hidden several days ago,” Changying said dispassionately, “but by now, it has likely been taken.”

Indeed, the day Zhuyou hid the Devil Lord’s two hun souls underground, Changying had arrived just in time to witness it.

“I would be grateful for Your Divinity’s guidance,” Xuanqing said, bowing slightly.

“There is no need for further questions,” Changying replied coolly. “My purpose has always been to subdue devils.”

“If Your Divinity requires anything, you need only ask,” Xuanqing said earnestly, his trust in her unwavering.

Changying lifted her golden eyes, the ornament on her forehead trembling slightly. “I am one step away from breaking through to the next realm. I will need to enter closed-door cultivation for a hundred years.”

Xuanqing’s pupils contracted in shock—he could hardly believe this being was capable of advancing further!

***

A century later, the human world had passed through several springs. Bitter winters faded, and thick coats gave way to light spring garments.

In a bustling tavern, a storyteller sipped his tea, unfurling a paper fan as he resumed recounting a tale he had already told a hundred times.

On the second floor, two women occupied a private booth—one seated, the other standing—clearly a mistress and her attendant.

The woman seated by the railing wore black robes. Her long hair, loose and unbound, flowed down her back like wisps of gray smoke—soft and delicate. She held a teacup in her hand. Though the cup’s rim brushed her lips, she never took a sip, as if content merely to inhale the fragrance. Her pale arm, exposed beneath her sleeve, bore a long, jagged scar along the inner side.

With downcast eyes, she watched the storyteller below. But after a while, she looked away, as if the tale no longer held her interest.

The attendant beside her bent slightly, lowering her voice. “Mistress, Second Lord Luo Qing has arrived again.”

The black-robed woman glanced toward the tavern entrance. The man who had just entered stood tall and strikingly handsome—none other than Luo Qing.

“Shall I stop him?” Hanzhu asked quickly.

Zhuyou set down her teacup and shook her head slightly, her tone calm and even. “Now that Xuanjing is gone, the First Lord’s position is vacant. But I am not some scrap to sit atop a pile of garbage.”

“Mistress speaks the truth,” Hanzhu agreed with a quick nod.