Brother Ye who protected Li Yunshang and died

Sea of Forbidden Tides.

On the stormy sea, the same broken little boat. Xiao Yu still wore white robes, fluttering in the wind—though his hair was much messier now.

No help for it. Getting out alive was already a miracle. A second later and he’d have been finished. Who had time to care about hairstyle?

Sigh.

Xiao Yu brushed his damp bangs aside and exhaled.

“System, do you have anything that can conceal my aura?”

If what the damn system said was true—that protagonist Ye Feng was dead—then Dao, acting as Heaven’s agent, would be frantic, scouring every corner.

Though being a Heavenly Devil allowed him to resist some divination, better safe than sorry.

After all, Dao had Heaven itself backing him.

“Points deducted. Item delivered.”

Whoosh!

Another yellow talisman floated before Xiao Yu. He snatched it and examined it closely.

“Concealment Talisman? Will this really work? The opponent has the Hongtian Chessboard.”

“System products are guaranteed quality.”

“Fine.” Convinced by the system’s confidence, Xiao Yu didn’t hesitate. He slapped the talisman onto his chest.

Finished, he looked up at the distant horizon.

Ye Feng is dead!

How could he be dead?

By all logic, with protagonist’s fortune protecting him, even in deadly danger he should survive. Yet here it was—confirmed death.

Dead through and through. According to the system, even his soul couldn’t be detected. Likely completely erased.

So tragic! He didn’t deserve that. Not even villains died so horribly.

Xiao Yu silently mourned for a few seconds.

But since he was out now, he might as well find answers before returning. And maybe learn how to get Xia Nianmo off Demon Gathering Island.

Still… if the protagonist was dead…

Then this heroine probably didn’t matter anymore, right?

****

“You heard? I heard a few days ago, Xuanling Sect held a funeral—for the fiancé of the sect leader’s daughter Li Yunshang. Name sounded like… Ye Feng?”

“Really? Fake! Since when did the sect leader’s daughter have a fiancé?!”

“Pfft!”

In a tavern, Xiao Yu sat in the corner wearing a straw hat, eavesdropping. When he overheard the conversation between several young disciples at the next table—

He couldn’t hold back. He spat out the tea he’d just sipped, eyes wide with shock.

What?

A funeral?!

Since when was the protagonist engaged to Li Yunshang?

The tea sprayed onto the next table. A burly man turned around—just in time to get soaked.

Disaster! Xiao Yu instinctively shrank his neck, then took a closer look. Too coincidental—the man wore the uniform of Xuanling Sect. Probably one of their disciples.

“You blind or something?! Where do you think you’re spitting?! Want me to teach you some manners?!”

The moment after, the disciple stood up furiously, stomping toward Xiao Yu, cracking his knuckles.

Zheng Fei’s mood had already been terrible today. Getting drenched in tea only made it worse.

Earlier, he’d been minding his own business in the sect when suddenly summoned for an emergency assembly. They announced a funeral—for one Ye Feng. At first, Zheng Fei was delighted.

He and Ye Feng had history. Once, Ye Feng had humiliated him publicly. Now seeing Ye Feng buried like trash? Justice. Oh wait—not “like” trash. He *was* trash. Haha!

But then came the next sentence—and Zheng Fei’s heart dropped into ice.

Li Yunshang, the sect leader’s daughter, stepped onto the stage wearing pure white mourning clothes, weeping uncontrollably. She cried that her senior brother had died protecting her.

They had already become cultivation partners. Only now did everyone find out.

A black-haired girl burying her black-haired lover.

She vowed to remain a widow for three years—and never remarry for life.

Hearing his dream goddess say this, outer sect disciple Zheng Fei felt numb.

Li Yunshang was the fantasy of countless men in Xuanling Sect. Her fair skin, slender figure, delicate hands. Though born noble, she couldn’t cultivate—making her seem more approachable.

That gave Zheng Fei a sliver of hope. After all, she was mortal. Maybe he, too, could win her.

He once dreamed: when his cultivation reached new heights, he’d kick down Ten Thousand Beasts Mountain, punch demonic cultivators aside, and rescue Li Yunshang from a horde of monsters in front of thousands. As a mortal, she’d surely fall for him then.

So when news came that Li Yunshang had gone missing during a trip, Zheng Fei rushed out immediately—hoping to play the hero.

Instead, no damsel in distress. His beloved was now a widow.

Damn!

Okay, a widow Li Yunshang *did* sound more tempting. More… interesting.

But—Li Yunshang somehow encountered a fortuitous chance outside. In just a few days, she broke through to Foundation Building境—far beyond Zheng Fei, who had stagnated at Spirit Gathering境 for years.

His chances were gone. Li Yunshang’s future achievements would rival those of any genius. He’d forever remain a lowly outer sect disciple. Two parallel lines—never to meet. Even glancing at her was a luxury.

So he fell into heartbreak. Came to the tavern to drown his lost youth in wine.

Now, not even the wine—he got tea spilled on him.

And just as he needed someone to vent on—this guy showed up.

“Sorry! I slipped. Didn’t mean to. My bad.”

Seeing Zheng Fei approaching, Xiao Yu quickly apologized. Thanks to the Concealment Talisman, he now appeared as an ordinary mortal.

Zheng Fei thought the same. This guy in white robes, wearing a hat, face hidden. From the visible jawline, probably somewhat handsome—even familiar-looking. No spiritual aura at all. Definitely a soft target.

He grabbed Xiao Yu’s collar and sneered:

“Hmph! This is a brand-new outfit—cost several top-grade spirit stones! You ruined it. At least pay for our meal!”

Mortal, tremble under my fury.

He sneered inwardly. Immortal vs mortal—when conflict arose, the immortal always won.

Survival of the fittest.

Normally, at this point, the victim would kneel, trembling: “Immortal Master, forgive me! I didn’t know your greatness!”

But to his surprise, Xiao Yu calmly spread his hands and replied coolly:

“Sorry, bro. Left home in a hurry—no money on me. Can I pay you back later? I’ll treat you then.”

Xiao Yu had left with zero funds—gave all his spirit stones to Bai Yan. He’d only entered this tavern because they offered free tea.

He glanced at Zheng Fei’s uniform—especially the single rhombus emblem on his arm—then added:

“And isn’t that just the standard outer sect uniform? Lowest tier. Where’d you get several top-grade spirit stones? Don’t pull numbers out of thin air!”

Xiao Yu mentally scoffed. He could buy a whole crate of those uniforms in the black market for a few mid-grade stones.

Top-grade? Are you wearing your school uniform like a tuxedo?

Wait… this guy looks kinda familiar. Like one of the minor villain NPCs he’d faced while posing as the protagonist.

“Don’t give me that crap! You come to a tavern without money? To drink wind?”

Even as he said it, Zheng Fei loosened his grip slightly. This mortal was different—knew about outer sect uniforms.

With such calm defiance, maybe he was related to some inner sect disciple.

And the more he looked, the more familiar he seemed—like they’d met recently.

Thinking this, Zheng Fei relaxed his grip further.

Meanwhile, Xiao Yu’s eyes lit up. He remembered who this was—Zheng Fei, the background villain he’d humiliated during the inner sect promotion trial. No wonder he looked so familiar.

At the same time, Zheng Fei’s cronies behind him suddenly widened their eyes. They recognized Xiao Yu—despite the hat. Held up by Zheng Fei, his head tilted back, his face clearly visible.

This wasn’t a mortal.

It was Ye Feng—the very Ye Feng who had died protecting Li Yunshang.

They’d seen the corpse. Gut torn open, eyes swollen, blood from seven orifices, died with eyes wide open—utterly gruesome. Undeniably dead.

“Boss… he’s… he’s Senior Brother Ye! The one who died protecting Li Yunshang!”

One of the underlings whispered, trembling.

Zheng Fei froze. His arrogance evaporated instantly. Staring at Xiao Yu in his grasp, the rage surging through his body turned icy cold.

A chill ran from his scalp straight down to his toes.