Xiao Lingbo, with the pet name Yaoniang, was given both her name and pet name by the village schoolteacher when she was still a child.
The villagers were illiterate, and everyone was equally poor. Whenever a child was born, they would take the baby to the most educated person in the village, the schoolteacher, to give them a beautiful and auspicious name.
Since her father was a fisherman and her mother gave birth to her on the water, the schoolteacher pondered for a long time before naming her "Lingbo."
It was an exceptionally elegant and cultured name, and the villagers often teased her, saying that Lingbo was so beautiful and had such a good name that she was destined to marry into a wealthy family and live a life of comfort.
Her parents would only smile awkwardly, feeling both happy and worried, because her beauty seemed like a double-edged sword for their humble family.
Perhaps it was because of this ethereal name, but from a young age, she thought differently from others. She longed to study, to live up to her beautiful name, but her family was too poor, and the idea of a girl like her receiving an education was nothing short of a pipe dream.
Since her family couldn’t afford to send her to school, she would sneak to the village schoolhouse after finishing her chores, hiding under the eaves to listen in on the lessons.
She didn’t understand much, but just hearing the students recite their lessons in rhythmic, melodic voices filled her with satisfaction. It sounded beautiful to her ears.
The schoolhouse wasn’t large—just two tiled rooms—and there was only one teacher, the same man who had named her.
Over time, she began to pick up a few characters, and the teacher eventually noticed her presence.
He didn’t chase her away, simply pretending she wasn’t there.
She continued to eavesdrop and learn in secret until one day, during a lesson on the *Book of Songs*, the teacher recited, "The reeds are lush, the dew turns to frost. The one I long for is on the other side of the water."
It was on that very day that she was surrounded by a group of boys from the school.
They saw how pretty she was and ganged up on her, shouting, "Thief!"
"Thief!"
"I’m not a thief!" Xiao Lingbo retorted angrily.
"You didn’t pay tuition, so how are you not a thief? I’m going to tell the teacher!"
"And your parents too! You should be ashamed!"
The village children laughed and jeered, clapping their hands as if herding cattle, driving her away. Her face burned with shame, and she felt both scared and humiliated.
When they saw her cry, they only grew more excited. "She’s crying!"
She shoved aside one of the weaker boys and ran without looking back.
She didn’t know how long she ran, but when she finally stopped, she found herself in an unfamiliar field.
Not far away stood a carriage, clearly belonging to someone wealthy, with a few people nearby.
Thirsty and frightened, she mustered the courage to approach them, hoping to ask for a drink of water. To her surprise, she saw a boy about her age.
He looked sickly, pale and thin, sitting quietly on a soft mat.
He seemed to be on a spring outing with his family, but his expression was distant, as if he were detached from the world around him.
The fine silk robes they wore and their air of superiority were things she could never hope to touch in her lifetime.
She stared, her face flushing with embarrassment, and she nervously rubbed her feet on the ground, trying to hide the patches on her sleeves.
Just then, a servant noticed her. "Whose child is this?"
"Where are your parents?" The servant’s tone wasn’t exactly friendly, likely wary of being pestered by a poor child like her.
She stammered meekly, "I’m very thirsty. Could I trouble you for a drink of water?"
The young master glanced at her calmly and said, "Give her some water."
Only then did the servant turn to pour her a bowl of water. She gulped it down eagerly, and the servant asked how she had ended up alone in this place.
She explained what had happened at the schoolhouse and couldn’t help but steal another glance at the young master.
In her eyes, people like him were all-knowing and all-powerful. In the village, whenever there was a dispute, it was always the well-dressed gentry who were called upon to settle matters.
So she asked, "Did I do something wrong?"
The young master didn’t seem particularly interested in her story, but he still said, "There’s nothing wrong with wanting to learn."
She was stunned, meeting his gaze, and suddenly felt that his eyes were like the long river near her home, rippling with the gentleness of spring water.
This seemingly gloomy and aloof young master had eyes softer than a spring river.
"Madam?"
"Madam?"
A voice tinged with faint disdain pulled her thoughts back to the present.
Xiao Lingbo blinked and looked up. The room was bathed in the glow of red candles, their light illuminating the golden phoenix embroidery on her wedding gown.
The candle wicks crackled softly, dripping wax like tears.
This was her wedding night.
—
She never imagined she would marry that young master, so when the matchmaker came to propose the marriage, she was filled with anxiety and fear, but she didn’t refuse.
In truth, this marriage wasn’t something she could refuse.
Ever since that day she had seen him, she often thought of him, sitting on the ridge of the field day after day, lost in her thoughts.
The young master was like a pearl fallen into a pile of dirt, representing a dazzling, unfamiliar world of luxury and opulence.
She knew it was a foolish dream, but she allowed herself to imagine, just a little, just for a moment.
Until one day, that unfamiliar world opened its doors to her.
Starting a year ago, she had begun embroidering her wedding gown, using the finest fabric and thread she could find. Every bead, every stitch, was woven with the longing of a young girl’s heart.
When the people from Chen Manor came and saw her wedding gown, they said it was too crude and told her to cut it up. The young mistress of Chen Manor couldn’t wear something like that.
She couldn’t bear to destroy it, so she hid it in a large wooden chest.
On the day of the wedding, she had wondered over and over what the young master looked like now. Did he still remember her?
"Sister-in-law, my brother is unwell, so Luanzhu has come in his place to perform the wedding ceremony with you." The girl before her smiled and made a gesture of apology.
With bright eyes, white teeth, willow-leaf brows, and cherry lips, she wore a festive red outfit, her eyebrows drawn thickly with a hint of boldness.
This was the first friendly hand extended to her from this unfamiliar world.
She didn’t mind, smiling faintly as she took Chen Luanzhu’s hand and walked with her to the wedding hall.
Looking back, perhaps it was destined from the start that she would never win Chen Xuan’s affection, since it wasn’t him she had married in the first place.
Chen Xuan was gravely ill. On their wedding night, the young man lay unconscious, and she barely slept, staying by his side the entire time.
Her heart was filled with nervous anticipation, wondering how she would introduce herself when he woke up.
As dawn approached, the young man on the wedding bed finally opened his eyes.
He seemed even thinner than before, pale and gloomy, his cheekbones prominent like a shadow.
She was so nervous that her words came out jumbled and incoherent.
Chen Xuan glanced at her, gave a slight nod, and his gaze quickly moved on.
He didn’t care what she had to say.
His gaze did not seem to be looking at his wife, but rather at an inanimate object.
Chen Xuan did not like her.
It had only been a few days since she married into Chen Manor, but she had already sensed this fact. It was obvious when one person disliked another.
This was hardly surprising. He was a nobleman from a family renowned for its literary heritage, well-versed in the classics, history, philosophy, and poetry since childhood. He was skilled in calligraphy, drumming, and the qin, and had a deep understanding of music.
She, on the other hand, was clumsy and unrefined, unable to do anything well. She had never been educated or taught to read, and her hands, swollen and calloused from years of labor, were rougher than those of the maids in Chen Manor.
Whenever something needed to be done, Chen Xuan preferred to entrust it to his personal maids rather than waste words on her.
Yet, he never mistreated her and treated her with a certain level of respect.
When she first arrived at Chen Manor, she knew nothing. Her mother-in-law hired a governess to teach her etiquette and literacy.
But she had started learning too late and progressed too slowly. The clever little maids of Chen Manor often gathered to laugh at her clumsiness when they had nothing else to do.
Despite her efforts to integrate into this unfamiliar aristocratic family, the marks of poverty on her made her stand out awkwardly, like a joke of someone trying to imitate the grace of others.
The maids did not respect her much either, often neglecting her in their daily tasks. Every maid in Chen Manor was literate and skilled in several arts.
She felt that these maids carried themselves with more grace than the daughters of the village chief. Whenever she encountered them, she would hunch her shoulders and shrink back, feeling unable to hold her head high.
As time went on, the maids' attitudes became even more disrespectful. One day, she had a conflict with Chen Xuan's trusted maid, and it was only resolved when Chen Xuan intervened.
She thought that Chen Xuan might have taken her side, at least a little.
But then she overheard Chen Xuan speaking to that maid. His tone was calm, neither affectionate nor harsh, as he said, "Yaoniang is not presentable. Please be patient with her."
From that day on, she knew that she was nothing more than a piece of furniture in Chen Xuan's room—a stool, a vase, something of that sort.
If there were things she couldn't do, she would learn them. Now that she had the opportunity to study and read, she was not ashamed. From then on, during her spare time, she would take books of poetry and read them line by line.
Her mother had always told her that poverty didn't matter; life was what you made of it. So, she believed she could manage this marital relationship well.
A little over a month after their wedding, a wandering Taoist priest arrived at the gates of Chen Manor. With a miraculous elixir, he cured Chen Xuan of a chronic illness he had suffered from for years.
It was from that day that she noticed Chen Xuan seemed to have changed.
When the Taoist left, it was as if he had taken Chen Xuan's soul with him. Chen Xuan became even colder, his dark eyes indifferent to everyone. Only when he looked at Taoist scriptures would his eyes burn with a fanatical intensity, and his frail body would seem to come alive.
Her mother-in-law, afraid that he was sinking too deep into this obsession, forced her to get closer to him. Their relationship grew even more strained, and several times, she clearly saw the impatience and disgust in Chen Xuan's eyes.
One day, she was so exhausted from studying that she fell asleep at her desk. When she woke up, she saw him standing there.
He had apparently come into the room to fetch something. Seeing her drowsy, he frowned and said coldly, "If you don't like studying, why pretend that you do?"
With that, he left the room, not even giving her a chance to explain.
She wanted to say that it wasn't true—she genuinely wanted to learn to read and write—but she had no way to defend herself.
Once prejudice had taken root, no matter how she explained, it would only sound like an excuse.
Her mother-in-law, finding her weak and foolish, began making arrangements for Chen Xuan to take a concubine. She had learned how to be a proper mistress of the household, so she meekly agreed and found a talented and beautiful courtesan.
When Chen Xuan found out, the disgust in his eyes deepened. He looked at her as if she were beyond redemption and simply said, "You've truly lost your mind."
He despised her weakness, her dullness, her timidity, but these traits were ingrained in her very bones. She knew her personality was unappealing, but she didn't know how to change it.
All she could do was look up and force a gentle smile, asking her husband for guidance.
Her soft, pale face reflected the faint glow of the lamp.
Chen Xuan stared at her for a moment, then suddenly turned pale and rushed out of the room.
He often did this.
Perhaps he truly loathed her.
One day, she finally managed to persuade Chen Xuan to stay the night. It was raining heavily, but in the middle of the night, Chen Xuan suddenly got up and left, disappearing into the downpour outside.
She chased after him and saw his face, pale from the rain, but with a sickly flush on his cheeks. He stared at her with a look she had never seen before—a gaze that could only be described as horrified, as if he were seeing the source of a nightmare.
By the next morning, the rain had lightened.
That morning, Chen Xuan's attitude toward her was uncharacteristically gentle. His hair was still damp and draped over his shoulders like wet snakes as he said to her, "I don't need you to do anything."
But this wasn't comfort; it was more like a cold warning.
It was the first time they had interacted so peacefully.
Summoning her courage, she asked, "Do you not like me studying?"
"I don't like women who read."
"Then what if I learn to play an instrument?" she asked with a strained smile. "Then I could play duets with you."
"I don't like women who understand music either," Chen Xuan replied, his tone still calm.
She knew he was lying. He just didn't like her.
But the atmosphere at that moment was too good to ruin.
The curtains were half-drawn, and the spring rain dripped softly outside. A gentle breeze lifted the curtains.
She met his eyes, and Chen Xuan looked back at her, his gaze clear and cold, like the shimmering surface of a spring river.
After a hundred years, she saw those eyes again.
Cold yet tender, like the first thaw of a river in spring.
Xiao Lingbo was momentarily lost in thought.
Seizing the opportunity, the others unleashed their flying swords. Several beams of colorful light pierced through Xiao Lingbo's chest in an instant!
Blood splattered everywhere!
Xiao Lingbo was forced back several feet, spitting out a mouthful of blood. Yet, even in this state, she still tightly held onto Madam Zheng, refusing to let go.
Her blood soaked through her mermaid-silk dress, resembling the unfinished wedding gown she had once tried to embroider as a young girl.
The blood splashed onto Madam Zheng's delicate face. Madam Zheng, who had always been sheltered and naive, was utterly terrified, her lips trembling as she struggled to speak.
Madam Zheng was the daughter of a scholar. She had met Chen Xuan and embarked on the path of cultivation with him, cultivating together as husband and wife. She had grown up in comfort, cherished and protected by Chen Xuan, and had no knowledge of the past between Chen Xuan and Xiao Lingbo. She had always thought they were merely old friends. Innocent and carefree, she had never experienced anything like this before.
The woman before her was coughing up blood, her phoenix-like eyes coldly scrutinizing her from head to toe.
At this moment, the woman asked, "Do you know how to read?"
Madam Zheng, not understanding why her husband's old friend looked so ferocious and crazed, stammered in fear, "I... my father... my father taught me etiquette and literacy."
He had said he didn't like women who read.
"Do you know music?"
Madam Zheng tried to steady herself. "I've learned to play the qin."
He had said he had no interest in playing duets.
Chen Xuan never expected that the once timid Xiao Lingbo could be so fiercely resolute.
Fearing his flying sword might harm Madam Zheng, he reluctantly withdrew it and urgently pleaded, "Yaoniang, I know you hold resentment in your heart. If you seek revenge, direct it at me. Dan Niang is innocent. Why must you torment her?"
"She is in my hands now. I can kill her if I wish," Xiao Lingbo said, holding Madam Zheng. Seeing Chen Xuan's ashen face, she laughed, "Isn’t it fitting to have someone accompany me to death?"
"Are you afraid?"
"Afraid that I’ll harm your beloved?" A flicker of indescribable pain flashed in Xiao Lingbo's eyes. Her lips were stained with blood, yet she smiled, "Chen Xuan, oh Chen Xuan, so even you can feel such fear."
Chen Xuan stared at her, his face suddenly pale, drained of all color.
Xiao Lingbo let out a long, bitter laugh, "Today, I will kill this wretched woman. What will you do about it?"
With that, she reached out, her hand poised to plunge into Madam Zheng's chest.
Without a second thought, Chen Xuan threw himself forward, his body glowing with a protective aura as he tried to snatch Madam Zheng away. Bai Ji'an and Li Langhuan also unleashed their sword energy in a desperate attempt to intervene.
But perhaps driven by the depths of her hatred and pain, Xiao Lingbo erupted with a final surge of willpower. Her movements were as swift as lightning. The flying swords were too slow to intercept her, and her pale, ghastly fingers pierced through the soft flesh of Madam Zheng's chest.
Chen Xuan's pupils contracted in shock, his gaze fixed on Xiao Lingbo in disbelief.
Xiao Lingbo's white hair fluttered wildly, her eyes filled with malice. She tossed the still-beating heart to the ground and, with a blood-stained hand, gently touched Chen Xuan's eyelids. "Did you think I wanted to kill her?"
Madam Zheng collapsed to the ground.
A heart-wrenching, piercing cry shattered the heavy silence: "Xuan Lang!"
Chen Xuan stood motionless, his eyelids smeared with blood. A torrent of crimson gushed from the gaping hole in his chest.
"Xuan Lang," Xiao Lingbo said softly, her voice unusually tender, like a gentle snowfall. "Let us descend to hell together."
Her nails, resting on his eyelids, suddenly dug in with force, twisting out a pair of bloodied eyeballs!
For the first time, she felt that those eyes were so unbearable.
So unbearable that she wanted to gouge them out—with her bare hands!
Xia Lianqiao, watching the confrontation between the two, was momentarily stunned. In an instant, her mind raced like lightning, and all the clues came together, pointing to one answer.
What was Xiao Lingbo's inner demon?
Xia Lianqiao had speculated before about what Xiao Lingbo's inner demon might be.
As a recurring theme in web novels centered on tragic love, she had once assumed it was Chen Xuan's betrayal that drove Xiao Lingbo to abandon her humanity and become a demon, consumed by hatred and pain.
At its core, it seemed like the same old cliché of unrequited love: "He doesn’t love me."
But it was only now that Xia Lianqiao finally understood. Xiao Lingbo's inner demon wasn’t about being unloved.
She had underestimated Xiao Lingbo's depth.
It was about, "Why?!"
Why?
Why did you break your vows, yet it is I who must die?
Why did your Dao heart waver, yet it is I who must die?
You sought your own path, so why didn’t you die for it?
This hatred burned like a raging fire, growing fiercer and more consuming over the centuries.
She demanded the lives of innocent children, slaughtered the Chen bloodline, and turned Chen County upside down, yet none of it could quench even a fraction of the hatred in her bones.
Because no matter how many of the Chen family she killed, none of them were Chen Xuan.
This bone-deep hatred ultimately condensed into a single question:
Chen Xuan, why wasn’t it you who died?!!
