Chapter 599: He Can Take His Place

At this moment, the little white tiger was completely confused and had no idea what her aunt-master was saying.

She gave a subtle signal to the man, a silent plea not to let this disrupt him. Her delicate, jade-like toes curled tightly, exuding an irresistible allure that could leave anyone parched with desire.

Lady Three’s heart skipped a beat at the sight, her pulse racing uncontrollably.

Even just watching this makes my heart race. If I can’t stop myself, how could they possibly stop?

Xia Chichi, still struggling to catch her breath, finally mumbled through her haze, “I... I’m just doing what you all did behind my back... It turns out this really is... enjoyable. You stole someone that should’ve been mine, and now you dare to complain...”

Lady Three knew she had no right to be angry. But that did not stop her from fuming. Who cared who came first? The fact remained that she was still injured, and here they were, doing this right by her sickbed!

Do I not count as a person to you?!

Then again, back on Skyrim Island, had she not tried to sneak off with Zhao Changhe for some “quality time” in the woods while Xia Chichi was injured?

Birds of a feather flock together. We’re all shameless, so who am I to judge?

With that thought, she could not exactly scold them with any conviction. Frustrated, she shifted to a more formal argument, one rooted in her genuine concern:

“I don’t believe Vermillion Bird has told you why she tried to stop this. We are a cult, not just a clan. A cult has doctrine—rules that even a venerable must follow, or we risk losing the trust of our followers. The saintess is meant to serve the gods. Even if that doesn’t explicitly mean to serve with your body, you still must remain pure. Even mortal palace maids are expected to maintain their chastity—how much more so a saintess! If you carry on like this and it comes to light, it will look like the saintess herself disrespects the gods. What will the followers think? And let’s not forget that you aim to become the cult leader. With this kind of scandal, how do you expect to command their loyalty?”

Xia Chichi had heard this speech more times than she could count, and it barely fazed her now. The only reason she had held back before was fear of Vermillion Bird, not moral quandaries. Now? She could not care less. She retorted without hesitation, “If you don’t tell anyone, how would they ever find out? Do you think everyone has some divine ability to see through walls? As long as the faithful believe their venerables uphold the doctrine, what does it matter if the venerable herself thinks it’s all... unnecessary?”

Lady Three fell silent.

She could not deny her words—the words cut to the core of the issue. Both she and Vermillion Bird genuinely believed in the doctrine, in the sanctity of the saintess’ role. To them, it was not about avoiding scandal but about upholding their faith and the rules that gave their cult meaning.

It was not a question of whether there would be consequences. It was a question of what they believed in and how they viewed their own commitment to their faith.

It was no wonder Xia Chichi seemed so fearless now. After all, Lady Three herself had already boarded this sinking ship.

Zhao Changhe, still catching his breath, finally spoke. “Do you want my opinion?”

Lady Three rolled her eyes.

Maybe start by getting off her before you try to act serious.

But Zhao Changhe continued, his voice steady and cutting: “What’s this about a saintess serving the gods? Even if you claim it doesn’t mean serving in body, to me, there’s no difference. Letting Chichi serve anyone else... How could you even suggest such a thing?”

Lady Three stammered, “Uh...”

She wanted to explain that the issue was not about servitude to others but about faith and personal belief. Before she could say anything, Zhao Changhe continued, his tone sharp and unwavering, “Perhaps there truly was faith in the past, and I could respect that. But now? What even are these gods you revere? After this voyage, you should know better. Hai Changkong doesn’t rely on gods—are you, Venerable Black Tortoise, less resolute than him? We’ve slain gods ourselves. You’ve inherited the Soul of Water and grasped the power of faith—

you yourself are a god now

! Clinging to the worship of some other god—don’t you think that’s absurd?”

Lady Three froze, her mind adrift. She found herself unable to respond.

“When you joined the cult all those years ago, you were lost and directionless—I get that,” Zhao Changhe pressed on, his voice growing louder, rough with conviction. “But to still be shackled by it now? The Sea God was replaced, wasn’t he? And what makes the Night Emperor any different? His unfinished sword is in my hands, and I’ve surpassed him in the astral intent he left behind. If Chichi needs a god to serve, why can’t I take that place?”

As he spoke, his actions grew more intense, every movement underscoring his words. Xia Chichi, enraptured, melted completely, both body and mind overcome.

She was utterly captivated.

This was the Zhao Changhe she had fallen for—the one she had envisioned back in the waterfall cave when they had first pledged themselves to one another. Back then, she had told him that her ideal Zhao Changhe was one who stood like this: bold, unrelenting, unshaken by gods or men.

Recently, seeing him entangled with Tang Wanzhuang, Xia Chichi had sometimes felt as if his domineering edge had dulled, replaced by an air of sophistication. It frustrated her as he appeared like a blade that had lost its sharpness. But now, she realized that he had never lost his sharpness. He had simply been waiting for the right moment to bear it out in the open. And here it was! Declaring his intent to replace the Night Emperor—could anything be more awe-inspiring to the followers of the Four Idols Cult?

Lady Three sat dumbfounded, her usually sluggish thoughts unable to produce a single retort. She even found herself, reluctantly, thinking his words made a certain kind of sense.

After all, she and Vermillion Bird had always believed that the Night Emperor’s legacy was something that could be inherited. Why else had Vermillion Bird been so shaken when she first suspected Zhao Changhe might be the Night Emperor’s successor or even his reincarnation?

Zhao Changhe likely was not the Night Emperor’s reincarnation, but he could very well be his successor. He himself knew the Night Emperor likely was not dead, but Lady Three and Vermillion Bird did not. To them, the unclear fate of a god made finding a successor not only logical but imperative.

Vermillion Bird had left the Night Emperor’s sword blank in Zhao Changhe’s hands and even hoped Black Tortoise would teach him how to finish it. That alone revealed Vermillion Bird’s secret desire for Zhao Changhe to inherit the Night Emperor’s mantle, her implicit message to Black Tortoise to see if he was worthy.

Lady Three had long suspected Vermillion Bird’s intentions, dismissing them at first. But now? Now he had become hers as she became his.

What Lady Three did not know was that Vermillion Bird, back when she was disguised as the Fire Serpent of Yi, had once even whispered to Zhao Changhe, “Do you want to... have Venerable Vermillion Bird kneel before you?”

Her feelings and her aspirations were laid bare in those words.

Only by Zhao Changhe inheriting the Night Emperor’s legacy could Vermillion Bird’s shame be lessened, providing her with a way to salvage her pride.

Lady Three was not privy to all these layers of schemes, but even she could not help feeling that compared to Vermillion Bird, she might not be holding her ground as well. Any objections she wanted to raise were left unsaid. In the end, she simply added a last remark to salvage her dignity, “Then... just promise me you’ll take forging the Night Emperor’s sword seriously. I’ve noticed you haven’t been putting much effort into finding the Night Flowing Sand. Don’t let us down...”

She paused, her expression growing peculiar.

The current situation was clear: the Four Idols’ upper echelon—Vermillion Bird, Black Tortoise, Azure Dragon, and White Tiger—had collectively reached an unspoken consensus: Zhao Changhe was the Night Emperor’s successor.

It was just like his status as a prince—whether or not it was true did not matter. If enough influential people believed it, then it became true. Whether he knew the Night Emperor’s techniques or carried his legacy was irrelevant now. Short of the Night Emperor himself appearing to overturn the decision, this was how it would stand.

If Zhao Changhe were shameless enough, he could even declare right now, “I am the Night Emperor,” and reverse the hierarchy to make himself their superior.

But Zhao Changhe still had some restraint and did not take it that far.

Sitting by Lady Three’s bedside, he sighed and reached out to check her pulse. “You can’t even get out of bed, and yet your mind is full of thoughts about the Night Emperor... Forget about all that for now. Let me see how your injuries are doing.”

His brow furrowed slightly as he examined her. “You’re healing, but not as well as I expected. You shouldn’t be wasting your energy on these things.”

Lady Three turned her head away, muttering, “And whose fault is that? You two were making such a ruckus you woke me up. Do you think I want to waste my energy on you?”

Xia Chichi frowned. The energy Lady Three was wasting was not on their noise but on her endless inner debate about the saintess and the Night Emperor. If she were not so caught up in all that, no amount of noise could disturb her healing. Saying their activities disrupted her was as absurd as claiming she disrupted their intimacy.

Xia Chichi rolled her eyes and then, with a sly gleam, feigned a soft, delicate voice. “Disturbing the venerable’s recovery is clearly our fault. Changhe, perhaps you should dedicate more effort to her treatment and improve the treatment.”

Lady Three blinked.

Something about her words sounds... off.

And then came the follow-up, “The Rejuvenation Art paired with the dual cultivation techniques is far more effective than ordinary methods. Conveniently, Changhe didn’t quite get to finish earlier. Isn’t this practically killing two birds with one stone?”

Lady Three bit her lip, glancing at Zhao Changhe. He was sitting there, still holding her wrist, and... well... the “bloodied spear” was clearly still at attention.

The two exchanged awkward glances. They both knew the truth. Xia Chichi was not wrong. After the power of faith and medicine had done their work, the best follow-up was the Rejuvenation Art. Augmenting it through the application via dual cultivation technique would only enhance the results. If Xia Chichi were not present, Lady Three might have already pulled Zhao Changhe over to make it happen herself.

But with the situation as it is? How could we possibly...

Yet, in Zhao Changhe’s mind, the temptation was growing rapidly. He had not been able to finish earlier, and this was objectively the most effective and immediately available treatment. So...

Lady Three caught the look in Zhao Changhe’s eyes and immediately shrank back into the bed. “Wait, wait, wait, you can’t possibly—”

Zhao Changhe leaned in closer, his voice low as he whispered into her ear, “Have you considered that earlier, you were actually interrupting the saintess serving her god? What should your punishment be for that?”

Huh? Did I really?

Lady Three’s poor, overburdened mind could not even process the accusation before she found herself pinned beneath him.

“Stop talking... Let’s just... focus on your recovery...”

Whatever her punishment should have been, Lady Three could not summon the will to protest. Helpless, she could only watch as Zhao Changhe tugged at her clothes, leaving no room for her to escape.