HPLFK 01

Chapter – 01

Oh No, Your Wife Is Dead 

A-Shang had two regrets in her life.

The first was falling in love with Xie Hengyu, that heartless man. The second was marrying him and becoming his wife.

“Wretched beast, where is the Ultimate Heaven Stone?”

At the Immortal Sect’s Punishment Terrace, the sky was eerily overcast and the wind cut like bone. A-Shang, her once-white robes now drenched in blood, was suspended from the execution platform.

Below the platform stood the sect’s disciples. Above, on the platform itself, were the Chief Executioner responsible for her punishment, and the Azure Jade True Person—who despised her with every fiber of his being for having defiled his beloved disciple.

Blood and tears blurred her vision. A-Shang was long past feeling pain. She raised her head, her stubborn eyes still refusing to give up as she asked, “Where is Xie Hengyu? I want to see him.”

“You demoness, you still dare to ask for Senior Brother Xie?” a disciple below shouted in fury. “If it weren’t for you, how could Senior Brother Xie have—”

“Yanzhi will not see you.” Azure Jade True Person cut off the disciple before he could finish. He stared coldly at her, his eyes filled with contempt and disdain. “I am asking you for the last time. Where is the Ultimate Heaven Stone?”

A-Shang lowered her head and said nothing more.

She knew that no matter how she defended herself, these people would never believe her. They would never believe that she had not colluded with the demon race, nor that she had not stolen the Ultimate Heaven Stone.

Seeing that this demoness still refused to speak of the Ultimate Heaven Stone’s whereabouts, Azure Jade True Person wasted no more time. He cast a glance at the Chief Executioner beside him.

The Chief Executioner understood and uttered two words: “Begin the execution.”

Fifteen bolts of extreme lightning punishment descended in full force. In the final moment before the execution, A-Shang still clung to hope—hope that a figure in white would appear.

But until her very last breath, all she saw were the relentless flashes of lightning surging toward her, one after another. Nothing else.

Later, according to the disciples of the Immortal Sect, the half-demon A-Shang died on that afternoon when the lightning punishment was carried out.

Fifteen bolts alone were not enough to kill her. But only when she was reduced to ashes under those fifteen bolts did everyone realize that her spiritual core had been reduced to only half.

With only half a spiritual core, how could she possibly withstand fifteen bolts of extreme lightning?

—

When A-Shang was very young, she once asked her father: after humans died, they all entered the Yellow Springs. But what about her, a half-demon? Where would she go after death?

She remembered her father fondly stroking her head, picking her up, and pointing at the sky above. “Shang-shang is so kind and adorable. In the future, you will surely go to the Heavenly Realm and become a good immortal revered by all.”

Unfortunately, as a half-demon bearing both human and demon blood, let alone ascending to the Immortal Realm to become a deity—even those of half-demon blood were scorned by both humans and demons alike. Even cultivation was met with contempt and disdain wherever she went.

A half-demon cultivating the Dao in hopes of becoming a god—truly laughable.

But after she died, she at least learned that half-demons, like humans, all entered the Yellow Springs after death.

The Yellow Springs was even darker and more terrifying than she had imagined. An endless sea of blood stretched out, dyeing even the sky above the Yellow Springs a crimson red. On the shores grew clusters of dark-red spider lilies.

All around her were others who had also died, wandering aimlessly through the Yellow Springs, drifting forward bit by bit in the procession.

A-Shang did not know how many years she had wandered through the Yellow Springs. No matter how far she walked, she could never find her way out. Gradually, her consciousness grew fainter. Occasionally, when she was lucid, she would notice that the ghosts who had once traveled alongside her had been replaced again and again.

Until, after what felt like an eternity, she seemed to have returned to the mortal world—to a small town.

Many of her memories had been lost, but the town felt oddly familiar. She seemed to have been there before.

From a distance, she spotted a group of people dressed in white. The familiar patterns on their robes also struck her as familiar, but she simply could not remember.

“Hurry up. If we don’t eliminate the evil spirits in Anzhou City today, we’ll surely be scolded by the sect leader again.” The white-robed disciples hurried through the alleyway.

“Today the sect leader brought his wife to Anzhou. With his wife around, he definitely won’t have time to scold us.”

A-Shang did not know why, but as she listened to the disciples chattering away, her body—now nothing more than a wisp of a lingering soul—could not help but follow them.

She watched as they slew many evil spirits throughout the city. Among them, one young disciple wielded his sword the best.

His swordsmanship seemed familiar to her, but she could not recall where she had seen it before.

Because she was now nothing more than a wisp of a lingering soul, those disciples could not see her. And so A-Shang followed them for several days.

She found it strange. Normally, after staying conscious for a short while, she would soon become muddled and dazed again. But ever since she had started following these young disciples, she seemed to be growing clearer-headed by the day.

Slowly, she also began to recall many things from her life. Her name was A-Shang. She was a half-demon. She had once been a disciple of the Immortal Sect.

No wonder their robes had looked familiar to her—it turned out they were her fellow sect members.

But she could not remember how she had died.

“Are all the evil spirits in the city eliminated?”

Just as A-Shang was straining to remember how she had died, a cold, clear male voice suddenly reached her ears.

She had already forgotten so many things, but the moment she heard that voice, her heart inexplicably trembled.

She slowly raised her head and looked toward the speaker.

He stood in the rain, clad in white robes. His figure was tall and elegant, his long hair bound with a jade crown. His features were handsome, his bearing ethereal—especially those beautiful peach-blossom eyes, cool and aloof yet carrying a hint of seductive allure.

Staring at that all-too-familiar face, A-Shang unconsciously murmured, “Xie Hengyu.”

The next second, the man standing under the eaves seemed to have heard her. He turned and looked directly at her.

Their eyes met. And in that instant, every memory of her life came flooding back to A-Shang.

Xie Hengyu…

This man was actually Xie Hengyu…

Scenes from her past life flowed before her eyes like images on a turning lantern.

Xie Hengyu—a disciple of Azure Jade True Person at the Immortal Sect. Born with sword bones, he was the foremost sword cultivator among the younger disciples, a future master of the sword with limitless potential.

And she—the lowly half-demon scorned by the world—had become his wife by using despicable means to drug him.

—

Even though none of it had been her doing, their first encounter had still been steeped in others’ schemes and calculations.

A-Shang knew that he had married her not of his own will, but because he had no other choice. Still, she could not help but hold out hope—hope that he might grow to love her over time, even just a little.

But in the end, she had only been fooling herself. How could Xie Hengyu, who already had the woman he truly loved, ever fall for a half-demon who had appeared out of nowhere?

Xie Hengyu’s cool gaze looked toward the rain. It seemed as though he was looking at her, yet also as though he was not.

If A-Shang had not already become nothing more than a wisp of a soul, she might have truly believed that he could see her.

A pale, slender hand rested on the man’s arm. Xie Hengyu withdrew his gaze, glanced at the woman in the wheelchair, and said softly to her, “Let me take you inside.”

That gentle tone—A-Shang had never heard it from him before.

The rain grew heavier. Standing in the downpour, A-Shang watched with her own eyes as Xie Hengyu pushed the woman in the wheelchair into the house.

The woman sat with her back to her. A-Shang could not see her face, but she knew—the woman in that wheelchair must be Shen Yueqing.

Xie Hengyu’s childhood sweetheart. The woman he truly loved.

So the “sect leader’s wife” those disciples had mentioned was Shen Yueqing.

Of course. If she had not come between them, Shen Yueqing—who had grown up alongside Xie Hengyu—would have become his wife long ago.

From beginning to end, A-Shang had only ever been the third party.

Now that she was dead, Xie Hengyu would naturally marry the one he loved.

A single tear of blood slid from her eye. A-Shang’s lingering soul finally faded away into the rain, silent and unseen by anyone.