Chapter 342

Chapter 342

The Land of the Rising Sun

Deep within the slumbering active volcano, at the base of the magma chamber, what had once been placid magma now churned violently like boiling water. The temperature, already exceeding a thousand degrees, continued to rise relentlessly.

A normal human would vaporize from the heat alone without even touching the magma. Now, the temperature was climbing toward one that could evaporate bone. The volcano had already erupted once, and judging by the current state, a second eruption was imminent.

Yet, none of those present seemed concerned about the catastrophic consequences such an eruption would bring.

Demonic patterns flared across Su Yi’s cheeks, and even the silver flame sigil on her forehead dimmed. Black miasma wreathed her body, slowly shifting into the same dark crimson as the demonic marks. Her eyes burned with a deep crimson, her expression teetering into madness—yet tears streamed uncontrollably down her face, a mix of sorrow and insanity, her state utterly dire.

Trapped in the magma, the suppressed demonic energy she had long contained now erupted violently. Her innate spiritual fire, ignited alongside the appearance of the demonic marks, now burned indiscriminately, consuming everything—friend or foe alike. Behind her loomed a flickering, monstrous shadow—human-shaped yet grotesquely distorted—writhing in agony, its ragged shrieks ringing out in agony. Clearly, this ordeal was torturing it as well.

Su Yi’s innate spiritual fire was icy blue, deceptively serene in appearance, yet its temperature far surpassed that of ordinary crimson flames. Even the scorching magma around her felt no hotter than warm water—but when her spiritual fire turned against her, it burned without mercy, even herself.

This was her failsafe—a last resort to prevent herself from descending into uncontrollable demonic corruption. In her final moments, it would unleash destruction far surpassing even self-detonation, ensuring that if she were to die, she would take everything with her, leaving no chance for reincarnation.

Not far away, a familiar face—his hood slipped back, exposing his features—was channeling the Divine Tree Core’s frost-essence, a power born from the same origin but opposing hers, in an attempt to suppress her spiritual fire. Even a sword strike capable of freezing fourteen provinces couldn’t quell these flames—only someone of the same origin could restrain them.

Even Demon Dragon, who had come prepared, wore a grave expression. His voice grated with urgency, “Instead of heading to the Kunlun Mountains, you’d rather burn yourself to cinders? Is that really what you want?”

A widower, his wife long gone, he remained relatively sane only because his sister-in-law’s frequent bouts of madness had forced him to stay composed. One madwoman was manageable—but two would spell utter ruin.

“Damn it, who asked you to interfere?” Su Yi’s face twisted with terrifying obsession, her laughter eerily gleeful, worsening the man’s headache. “Did you think helping her escape me would make me let her go? I said I’d make her stay with me forever—even if we both vanish, we’ll disappear together.”

“This isn’t for her. It’s for you,” he snapped coldly. “A thousand years have passed, and she’s become your inner demon. If you don’t sever her now, she’ll drag you down. You’re still in your soul form—even your tears weaken you.”

To him, she was just a dumping ground for pain, used until she was spent. A burden unfit for his newly reforged body.

Nearby, a body floated in the magma—nearly identical to Su Yi in every way. Originally nurtured in the Kunlun Mountains to hasten its maturation, Su Yi had diverted their path to this volcano while he was distracted, forcing him to relocate the body here for fusion.

But now, she refused to cooperate.

A brat could be spanked, but the more he pushed back, the deeper she spiraled into madness. Now, she’d rather burn herself to cinders than let go.

When A’Ruo had handed Li Ke over to Su Yi to deal with, she probably never imagined Su Yi would cling to her so relentlessly, tormenting her endlessly rather than granting her peace.

“I am her inner demon. As long as I live, she’ll never be free. If I die, the reincarnation she desires most will never come.” Amidst the increasingly shrill screams, Su Yi—though suffering under her own spiritual flames—laughed as if intoxicated by painkillers. Yet, her tears never stopped.

Before, she had lost the ability to cry. Now, with her long-sealed emotions flooding back, the overwhelming impact left her unable to suppress her self-destructive urges.

She refused to listen. In truth, she had nothing left to lose. She claimed to want to live, but that wasn’t entirely true.

Because the moment her spiritual fire ignited, Li Ke—who had endured centuries of her pain and negativity, now reduced to a numb, monstrous shell—still felt fear.

For the sake of a hollow fantasy, a counterfeit love, she had betrayed both Su Yi and A’Ruo. Falling into Su Yi’s hands, she had taunted her, thinking that watching Su Yi suffer would force her to grant her a quick death.

But someone who fears death yet seeks it only proves they have an escape. Su Yi would never give her that satisfaction. If Li Ke wanted to revel in her pain, then she wouldn’t just watch—she’d make her drown in it. That way, Su Yi wouldn’t care if her pain was known—because all of it would become Li Ke’s punishment. And in turn, Su Yi herself would no longer feel it.

Over the years, Su Yi’s unrestrained, twisted emotions hadn’t corrupted her into a demon—but they had turned Li Ke into a monster. And now, after all this time, Li Ke had grown numb. How pathetic. But this sudden resurgence excited Su Yi.

A vicious thought sparked in her mind. “Perfect. Let’s go find A’Ruo together. That way, I won’t have to worry about you forgetting her one day—about you no longer belonging to her.”

What a brilliant plan. She wanted to die—but she meant to drag him down too, afraid that if she and A’Ruo were gone, he might move on and forget.

Her glee was driving Demon Dragon mad. If he could forget A’Ruo so easily, he would’ve abandoned Su Yi long ago!

After all these years, he still couldn’t figure out how A’nuo—so gentle and kind-hearted—could have a younger sister who turned into such a monster. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to abandon her and let her destroy herself—he couldn’t bear to face A’nuo afterward. He remembered A’nuo’s words: she would return one day to reunite with him.

At first, he found it hard to believe, thinking it was just a comforting lie A’nuo told before she left. A’yi didn’t believe it either.

But later, he had no choice but to believe—it was the only way he could endure all those long years. If even he stopped believing, who else would remain waiting for A’nuo’s return? If A’nuo came back and couldn’t find him, or worse, if A’yi *were* still here, how could he face her after all the hardships she endured to return?

The spiritual wood core A’nuo left behind could only delay the inevitable for so long. If A’yi still refused to sever the heart demon, the demonic energy would fuel the spiritual flames endlessly, burning until her soul was completely exhausted and dissipated.

Just as the Demon Dragon was struggling to find a way out of the stalemate, a golden phoenix suddenly appeared. The phoenix’s flames of purification could burn away all evil and misfortune, and its abrupt arrival calmed the once indiscriminate azure flames, taking over their role.

This eased the tension. The Demon Dragon narrowed his eyes at the golden phoenix emerging from A’yi’s form, carrying the most prosperous fortune of this dynasty, and said with certainty, “He crowned you empress under your true name.”

The name Niu Gu Lu Min Yi meant nothing to Su Yi—the phoenix’s destiny could not settle upon her. But using her true name was different. It meant that even if Su Yi lingered here, she would no longer be repelled or suffer backlash as before.

Meanwhile, the ministers watching the emperor solemnly carry out the wedding rituals with a memorial tablet were completely stunned.

As for why the name on the tablet wasn’t Niohuru, and why the emperor insisted on changing her name, claiming the previous one was inauspicious for an empress—no matter how ridiculous the excuse—what else couldn’t they accept at this point?

Who could have predicted this day? They had thought the late emperor marrying his younger brother’s wife as his true love was already outrageous enough. The founding emperor had a Consort Chen who carried a trace of Aisin Gioro blood. By Kangxi’s generation, with the Grand Empress Dowager overseeing things, they had hoped the emperor wouldn’t follow in the footsteps of the previous two and instead maintain balance.

But who could have imagined that once this “master of balance” stopped balancing, he would become even more terrifying than the previous two?

Why didn’t the Grand Empress Dowager intervene? Oh, apparently, she was so thrilled she made herself sick from excitement and couldn’t exert herself. The Empress Dowager stepping in was blessing enough.

The ministers: Just how much of this “overjoyed” was genuine? They were playing dumb, not actually stupid!

Most likely, the Empress Dowager understood the situation best. She knew her role as Empress Dowager was just ceremonial—she could only follow the emperor’s lead to stay stable and serve as Qing’s model of filial piety.

After all, she wasn’t his birth mother, while the Grand Empress Dowager was his paternal grandmother. If even the Grand Empress Dowager couldn’t stop Kangxi, the Empress Dowager had no leverage to oppose him. So she played along perfectly, showing no reluctance whatsoever—as if she were truly attending a normal imperial wedding to add to its splendor.

The ministers had seen all kinds of storms, but this scene was beyond anything they had witnessed. They were in shock.

Only the Crown Prince matched the emperor’s pace. The court officials were on edge, hearts in their throats—the emperor was calmly spiraling into madness, and the Crown Prince, as the heir apparent, followed along without seeing anything wrong with it.

Those who had hoped the Crown Prince might persuade the emperor, thinking the emperor’s favor toward the heir might temper his absurd actions, now felt utterly hopeless.

The Crown Prince didn’t see anything amiss—in fact, he was appalled they’d even consider interfering.

The ministers: For a moment, they couldn’t tell whose mindset was more terrifying.

Even the Eldest Prince, who usually dared to clash with the Crown Prince, kept his mouth shut this time.

He was afraid of poking a madman. The kid might seem normal now, but if he provoked him at this moment, the Crown Prince would absolutely dare to strike—and then the emperor wouldn’t even spare a thought to reprimand the Crown Prince for disrespecting his elder brother. He’d just have to swallow the beating.

When it came to taking beatings for nothing, the Eldest Prince had deep-seated grievances. The only one who had ever made him suffer such humiliation without recourse was that woman.

Who would have thought that even in death, she could still wield such influence? His mother had whispered privately that the weight crushing them was finally gone—once this period passed, life would improve. Without that woman’s support, the Crown Prince would struggle to hold his ground alone.

But… would things really turn out as his mother said?