The night sky hung low, and Yunzhou City showed signs of wind and rain.

As a good child who needed plenty of sleep to grow tall, Ye Qing climbed into bed early. His clean, fair little face sank into the bedding, and in just a few moments, he fell into a sweet, deep sleep, his cheeks flushing a healthy red.

On this night of heavy cold dew, he occasionally kicked off his blanket, but his bare feet felt no chill.

This was all thanks to a Cold-Dispelling Charm working its magic on the roof.

Suddenly, the peacefully sleeping baby boy heard a noise and jolted awake. He rushed to the door, stood on his tiptoes to unlatch it, and found a young man lying outside.

The man was covered in wounds, his long hair and aqua-green robes drenched by the torrential rain. A closer look revealed the robes were stained with blood!

The rain-streaked face only made his dark brows and eyes stand out more sharply. The little baby was terrified, covering his small mouth with his hand as his tiny feet trembled and shrank back.

The ground was covered in blood!

The injured man was none other than the gege he had met that afternoon!

Lou Qinian wheezed, “Save me…”

Though he appeared utterly wretched, the rain only made his presence more breathtakingly intense. At the same time, a faint demonic aura seeped from between his brows. His face, already peerless and soul-stealing, now possessed an even more irresistible charm.

Whether three or eighty, no one could say no to such a beautiful man.

The baby boy also had a tender heart for the fragile and beautiful. Unable to bear the sight, Ye Qing immediately condemned the scene: “This is too cruel! Who could have beaten gege like this!”

Ignoring Tang Xi’s attempts to stop him, he huffed and puffed as he dragged the Great Demon back into his own home.

__

The scene rewound half a day.

A sword’s aura, majestic and boundless, shook the Demon Race’s palace to its foundations. A peacock, its tail feathers shimmering with a radiant glow, fled in desperation. Behind it, a Sword Intent forged at the Tribulation Crossing Stage pursued with blinding speed.

Sshhh—

The sound of flesh tearing echoed through the air, and a crimson mist filled the sky.

The peacock dared not stop, flying straight toward the towering palace. As he flew, blood trailed behind him in the air.

The battle’s commotion was so immense that it roused everyone from their slumber.

“Father, save me!” The cry was a hoarse, desperate shriek.

The Old Peacock, who had lived for forty thousand years, had been resting in the White Jade Palace. He awoke to the plea for help, his face paling in shock as he rushed out to save his son.

In the main hall, he saw his usually elegant and noble son in a wretched state, barely maintaining his human form. His aquamarine robes were torn to shreds.

The Old Peacock couldn’t even imagine how much worse he would look if he reverted to his original form. The Demon Race possessed the Body Tempering Cultivation Secret Method, making them exceptionally resilient.

Unless struck by a natural disaster or a world-ending calamity, when had they ever been this pathetic?

Before the Old Peacock could even give in to his grief, his pupils constricted in terror.

For behind his son followed a man.

A man in white robes approached, his face cold and noble. A few drops of blood stained his pristine robes, a stark contrast to his former self, the Immortal Lord who had once been untainted by the mortal world.

Now, he was an Asura who had crawled out of hell. With each slow step he took, black mist billowed around him. His aura, a terrifying blend of god and demon, made one’s heart leap into their throat.

The man’s pitch-black eyes fixed on him. The tip of his sword, dripping with blood, resembled a butcher who had slaughtered countless victims, a sight enough to make anyone tremble in terror and howl like a ghost.

…Pei Xuan?! He actually showed up here! Old Peacock’s face paled instantly.

With a single glance, he knew he stood no chance.

Better to kneel and beg for mercy.

Old Peacock trembled as he spoke. “Immortal Lord Pei, please show mercy. We do not know what you seek, but the Feather Clan is willing to serve you…”

Whatever Pei Xuan wanted, he would agree to it first. The Cultivation World had always revered the strong. He had lived for tens of thousands of years, surviving the Three Tribulations and Nine Difficulties.

Bowing his head now was a small price to pay compared to the annihilation of his clan. He had no idea what his son had done to offend such a man, only to bring this calamity upon them.

Old Peacock was simply old; his human form was actually that of an elegant middle-aged man. Now, with his eyes brimming with tears, he looked somewhat pitiful.

Pei Xuan glanced indifferently, his fingers clenching as the vaulted ceiling of the great hall directly shattered. His voice was as cold as ice shards: “At least you know your place.” As his words fell, all the murderous intent on his body completely vanished.

Though Pei Xuan’s killing intent was gone, no one dared to underestimate him, allowing him to sit on the Feather Clan’s throne.

Because the Peacock’s body was covered in injuries, those wounds with exposed flesh still contained countless fierce and menacing sword qi.

This battle had ended extremely quickly. The young and arrogant Peacock had thought he would receive protection upon returning home.

Instead, he watched his old father immediately drop to his knees after meeting Pei Xuan. Clutching his heavily scarred demon core, the Peacock nearly coughed up a mouthful of blood.

Unable to hold on any longer, he shooed back into his original form.

His original form was massive, and countless trembling maidservants rushed over, yet none could support the giant bird.

The Peacock lay weakly on the ground, blood gushing out from beneath his feathers. If a human cultivator were here and saw this beast blood, their eyes would surely gleam.

The blood of an ancient divine bird’s descendant was naturally a great tonic; a single sip could extend one’s life. Yet now, it was flowing out like water, wasted for free.

Only after the Fiend God had departed did the Old Peacock rush over, tears of anguish streaming down his face. “Son, why did you provoke that Fiend God?”

He didn’t want to doubt his son, but in his memory, Lou Qinian had always been the most arrogant and willful of the Feather Clan. Why was the demon blood between his brows so brilliantly red? Because in his youth, he had slaughtered countless human cultivators! He must have offended Pei Xuan!

Lou Qinian’s face turned pale as he swayed, enduring the pain. He lowered his head to glance at his blood-stained demon core, the only thing he was grateful for was that Pei Xuan had not gone all the way and gouged it out.

A demon without a demon core was truly finished.

Relieved, he declared with a scowl, “I didn’t provoke him!”

The Old Peacock didn’t believe him. “Then why did Pei Xuan attack us?” The Nine Provinces were vast and boundless. Pei Xuan guarded the Demon Realm, a place overrun by demons, and was currently unifying the Sea of Endless and the Cave of Ten Thousand Demons.

He had no time for petty squabbles. Meanwhile, the Central Continent was filled with grotto-heavens and blessed lands, and its countless sects were all hypocritical cultivators who harbored grudges against Pei Xuan. Why would Pei Xuan ignore the Five Great Sects, Seven Great Gates, and Four Great Families, and instead attack a group of neutral birds who were just watching from the sidelines?

“I really didn’t provoke him, he…” The Young Master of the Great Demon Tribe gritted his teeth, finding the words truly difficult to utter.

“He threatened to force me into a future marriage contract with his son!”

This was utterly outrageous and absurd!

At the thought of this, Peacock’s fury reached a boiling point.

“Pei Xuan actually has a son?” Old Peacock was also stunned. His first reaction was utter disbelief, how could he have kept this so well hidden? His second reaction was that this was a wonderful opportunity. As long as it wasn’t a life-and-death struggle, sacrificing his son was a small price to pay. Besides, cultivators were often lonely and isolated; having a companion in the future would be a good thing. Pei Xuan was immensely powerful, and his status was unrivaled in the Cultivation World, so this wasn’t a case of marrying up or down.

The only thing that rankled Old Peacock was… he was a descendant of an ancient divine bird born at the dawn of heaven and earth, yet he had somehow been relegated to the same generation as Pei Xuan.

A son knows his father best.

Peacock glanced calmly at his father, reading his thoughts. His own expression remained serene. “Guess how old the child is?”

“How old?”

“Just… three… and a half… years old!”

He spat out each word as if forcing it through his clenched teeth, the effect so deafening that the Demon Race’s palace once again threatened to collapse.

Old Peacock: “???”