Three Days Without End

“Little Xue…” Sun Niang exerted a little strength, tightening her grip on Ling Muxue’s cold fingers, her eyes holding a final plea. “Sun Niang has one last thing to ask of you… is that okay?”

“Say it! Sun Niang, just say it! I’ll agree to anything!” Ling Muxue’s voice was thick with tears.

“…After Sun Niang is gone, can you… can you help look after Zhuzi and Xiaoshan more… is that okay?”

Sun Niang’s cloudy eyes flickered with maternal love and reluctance to part with her two sons.
“In my life, I didn’t have any great abilities.

“The thing I’m most proud of is raising my Zhuzi, Xiaoshan, and you, Little Xue, all up.

“Zhuzi and Xiaoshan, they’re only in their early twenties and working in the royal prison. It’s not easy.

“In the future, if you can help them out a bit, so they can live a better life than their mother… is that okay?”

Zhuzi and Xiaoshan were Sun Niang’s two biological sons.

Facing this deathbed request, Ling Muxue’s heart felt like it was being twisted by a knife. She could only nod with a muffled sound, her eyes full of tears, suppressed whimpers escaping her throat.

“Hehe, good… good…” A relieved smile appeared on Sun Niang’s face, her voice becoming more and more ethereal. “It’s okay… Little Xue. Don’t cry… everyone has this day… our lives… are just like this…”

Her grip on Ling Muxue’s hand gradually lost strength. Those weather-beaten eyes slowly, slowly closed, carrying final reluctance and kindness.

“Sun Niang—!!!” Ling Muxue let out a heart-rending scream, immense grief almost tearing her apart.

It was at this moment.

“Om!”

A low and strange hum suddenly sounded.

The massive array enveloping Jinhua Palace was instantly lit up. Countless profound runes lit up one after another on the walls, the ground, and even in the void, emitting a soft and majestic light. A vitality so rich it was almost tangible surged in like a tide, instantly filling the entire side hall!

Ling Muxue was startled by this sudden change and looked dazedly at the bed.

She saw a trace of extremely faint ruddiness reappear on Sun Niang’s originally grey and lifeless face at a speed visible to the naked eye. However, those eyes remained tightly closed and did not wake up.

“Do not be surprised.”

Ling Ze’s deep voice sounded from the doorway. He had been standing there at some point, hands behind his back, looking deeply at the surging brilliance of the array. “I have activated the Spirit-Nurturing Grand Array here. It can forcibly inject vitality to temporarily sustain her last breath and delay the time of her passing.”

Hearing this, the flame of hope instantly rekindled in the depths of Ling Muxue’s despairing heart.

She turned her head abruptly to look at Ling Ze, a burst of wild joy and intense, almost overflowing expectation appearing on her tear-stained, exquisite face: “Father Emperor! Does that mean… as long as we maintain this array and inject vitality until the secret realm produces Nirvana Syrup again next year, Sun Niang can be saved?! Is that right?!”

Ling Muxue’s exquisite, tear-stained face now bore joy and intense hope.

However, Ling Ze’s next words were like the biting cold wind of the Northern Region, instantly blowing that weak flame until it flickered and almost went out, chilling her to the bone: “Maintain it for a year? You are certainly dreaming.”

Ling Ze’s voice was calm to the point of cruelty, carrying rationality. “Do you think operating this array is child’s play?

“Leaving aside the astronomical resources required to operate this array for even a moment, based on Sun Niang’s current physical condition alone, this array can at most force her life to continue for seven days. That is already the limit. Her body and divine soul simply cannot withstand the infusion of vitality for a longer period.”

He paused, his sharp gaze sweeping over Ling Muxue’s eyes that had lit up with hope: “Moreover, to keep this array open for a year would exhaust resources enough to make our entire branch of the Wolf Clan tighten its belt for several years. As the ruler of a country, it is absolutely impossible for me to pour the entire nation’s strength just to maintain the life of a servant.”

Ling Ze’s gaze fell on Ling Muxue, carrying a trace of unquestionable coldness: “I am using my own private resources right now to buy you time.”

“Three days.”

“I can support you for at most three days.”

“Within three days, if you cannot find another way to save Sun Niang…”

Ling Ze’s voice was decisive, announcing the final outcome: “She can only… go peacefully on her way.”

“A way? But what way can there be without the Nirvana Syrup? After three days, nothing will change!”

The light in Ling Muxue’s eyes instantly extinguished, like a candle frozen by ice. The tiny bit of illusory hope that had just been ignited was ruthlessly crushed again before the cold iron wall of reality, leaving only boundless despair and cold.

“Enough!”

Ling Ze’s low and majestic voice exploded in the oppressive air like shattering ice, instantly interrupting Ling Muxue’s endless weeping. “As a royal daughter, crying and sobbing, what kind of decorum is this!”

Ling Muxue raised her head numbly. Her red and swollen eyes were hollow and lifeless, as if they bad lost all focus, mechanically looking toward the source of the voice.

Ling Ze had his back to her, standing with his hands behind his back in front of the window. His gaze seemed to penetrate the curtain of flying snow, falling into the farther void. His voice returned to calm: “In this world, there is still one unused bottle of Nirvana Syrup.”

“There is still one bottle of Nirvana Syrup?!”

This short sentence exploded in the dead lake of Ling Muxue’s heart like a thunderclap.

She opened her eyes wide abruptly. Those originally hollow and despairing eyes were instantly ignited by a wild, unbelievable light of hope. “Where?! Father Emperor, where is that bottle of medicine now? Tell me quickly!”

She pressed urgently, her voice shrill with excitement.

Ling Ze slowly turned around. His deep gaze fell on his daughter’s face, twisted by hope. His voice was flat and waveless, yet every word was like an ice pick: “I bestowed the only other remaining bottle of Nirvana Syrup to Lu Qiancha.”

“Lu Qiancha? Xun Xue’s son?”

Hearing this name, Ling Muxue reacted like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. The hope that had just ignited instantly turned into the anger of betrayal. Her voice rose abruptly, filled with unbelievable shrillness: “Father Emperor! How could you easily bestow the Nirvana Syrup, such a precious clan treasure, to an outsider?! You…”

“Hmph, outsider?”

A cold, almost mocking sneer curved the corner of Ling Ze’s lips, interrupting his daughter’s questioning.

He took a step forward, pressure rolling down like a tide. “What flows in his and Xun Xue’s bodies is the purest bloodline of the Ice-Rending Royal Clan! Compared to them, our branch of the Wolf Clan looks more like outsiders.”

“Moreover,”

Ling Ze’s tone suddenly became stern, his gaze sharp as a blade, piercing straight at Ling Muxue, “You can disregard clan rules and steal the Nirvana Syrup to give to a death row demon.

“Yet I, the dignified Wolf Clan monarch, bestow another bottle upon Lu Qiancha—a young talent with outstanding gifts and noble bloodline, worthy of my branch’s utmost efforts to befriend—and that is somehow not allowed?!”

This barrage of rebuke and rhetorical questions was like a heavy slap across Ling Muxue’s face.

All her anger, all her self-righteousness, was instantly crushed to powder in the face of this cruel comparison.

Ling Muxue buried her head deeply, her shoulders trembling slightly, unable to utter half a word of rebuttal.

Then, she vigorously wiped away the remaining tear stains on her face, her movements carrying a resolve bordering on self-abuse.

She performed a deep, standard bow of a subject to Ling Ze, her voice hoarse but exceptionally clear: “Child understands. Child will go find Lu Qiancha right now.”

Having said that, she didn’t look at her father again. She turned resolutely and walked quickly toward the heavy palace doors of Jinhua Palace, her back view revealing a desperate, all-or-nothing desolation.