Immortal Paladin

[POV: Xin Yune]

A beautiful woman in silver robes entered the palace with measured steps, the white lotus and orchid patterns embroidered across her garments swaying as though stirred by the wind itself.

Xin Yune had not expected Mt. Qingshi to be so quiet.

The residence of His Holy Majesty stood high among the clouds, its jade corridors and blackstone pillars bathed in pale moonlight despite the early hour. Guards bowed as she passed, but none dared speak above a whisper. She understood why. This was the home of the revered Holy Emperor of the Hollowed World, Da Wei, a man she considered a dear friend.

Xin Yune lowered her head. “This humble one greets His Holy Majesty.”

Da Wei looked up from his seat, and for a heartbeat, Xin Yune forgot how to breathe.

He looked terrible.

”You’re fast,” Da Wei coughed flecks of blood. ”I just arrived.”

His dark robes were soaked in blood, one sleeve hung in tatters, and one eye was gone, leaving behind raw, ruined flesh that would have made any ordinary person collapse. He held himself with the unsteady posture of someone who had pushed far beyond his limits. When he rose, he staggered so badly that Xin Yune rushed forward and caught him before he fell.

His weight sagged against her, warm and alarmingly light for a man who stood at the summit of the world.

Yet his expression remained maddeningly calm.

“Enough with the formalities,” Da Wei said with a weak laugh. “We’re friends.”

Before Xin Yune could reply, part of his robe rippled and peeled away like a living thing. A dark-haired woman emerged from its folds, her sharp gaze immediately settling on Xin Yune as she steadied Da Wei from the other side.

Xin Yune blinked. “Who are you?”

“I believe you two haven’t been formally introduced.” Despite the blood on his chin, Da Wei somehow looked amused. “This is Eldritch-chan. My sentient armor... and occasionally my clothing.”

Eldritch-chan glared at Xin Yune as though she had personally insulted reality itself.

Da Wei chuckled. “She’s a little shy.”

With a dismissive huff, Eldritch-chan melted back into his robes. Da Wei raised a hand and cast Cleanse. Blood, grime, and the scent of death vanished, though the exhaustion etched into his face remained. It seemed he had only just returned and hadn’t even bothered to rest.

“You picked an odd time to visit,” he said.

Xin Yune exhaled slowly, torn between scolding him and strangling him. “Gu Jie sent me.”

Da Wei laughed under his breath. “That lass really knows how to keep her old man in line.”

“Let me help you.”

Ignoring any protest, she guided him toward the bedroom, supporting him with an arm around his waist. The chamber was elegant but sparse, with a low table by the window and neatly arranged bedding in the corner. Herbs and incense scented the air, though they failed to mask the lingering smell of blood.

Once he was seated, she examined him more carefully.

“What happened to you?”

Da Wei tilted his head as though recalling the details. “I’ve been studying the nature of laws. I wanted to see if my body parts could be used as materials for forging artifacts. Somehow... I ended up like this.”

He broke into a fit of coughing.

Blood spilled from his mouth with every cough. He calmly cast Cleanse again, wiping away the evidence as though it were nothing more than spilled tea.

Xin Yune extended her Qi Sense, and her expression steadily darkened.

His tongue was gone.

His intestines were missing.

One rib had been cleanly removed.

He had also lost so much blood that his body felt like little more than skin stretched over sheer determination.

Then her senses reached the core of his life force.

She froze.

“Da Wei,” she asked slowly, “where is your heart?”

He smiled with infuriating ease.

“Oh? Do you want it?”

“You fool.” Xin Yune smacked his shoulder, careful not to strike too hard. “You need a heart to live.”

Da Wei blinked once, then shrugged without a trace of remorse.

“I gave it to my disciple.”

Xin Yune stared at him for a long moment before pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a slow breath. This man was the Holy Emperor, ruler of the Hollowed World, yet he still behaved like a reckless child who treated mortality as a minor inconvenience.

Despite her exasperation, concern won out. She retrieved the medicines she had refined over the years, set up an array to regulate his qi, and spent the following months repairing his meridians, restoring his blood flow, and stabilizing his shattered body.

The months became years.

Xin Yune stayed.

At first, she told herself it was because he could not be left alone. Later, she admitted she simply did not trust him not to do something even more absurd the moment she looked away. Yet somewhere along the way, the routine itself became comforting.

Under her care, Da Wei recovered little by little. His blood gradually returned through medicine and acupuncture, his breathing steadied, and the deathly pallor faded from his face. He still lacked a tongue and spoke through Qi Speech with effortless ease. He still had no heart. Even so, the rest of his body steadily regained its strength.

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A hundred years meant little to cultivators.

As his condition improved, Da Wei returned to his hobbies whenever he was not meditating or recovering. Sometimes he painted by the window, sleeves rolled to his forearms as his brush glided across silk. Sometimes he played music, filling the palace with melodies gentle enough to make the outside world seem distant.

Most surprising of all, he cooked.

One afternoon, Xin Yune found him in the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up, ingredients neatly arranged across a cutting board. The aroma of broth, sesame oil, and roasted spices filled the room as he prepared each dish with almost reverent care.

She stopped at the doorway and frowned.

“You don’t have any intestines. If you eat now, you’ll only worsen your condition.”

Da Wei looked over his shoulder with an amused smile.

“You’re being silly. They’re for you.”

Before she could object, he had already arranged the meal before her and motioned for her to sit.

Steamed rice glistened with a touch of oil. Tender fish rested in fragrant ginger broth beside crystal dumplings filled with shrimp and chives. Braised lotus root gleamed beneath a rich glaze, accompanied by delicate egg custard, pickled vegetables, sesame greens, and a bowl of soup whose fragrance alone eased the tension from her shoulders.

It was not a lord’s banquet.

It was a meal prepared solely to comfort her.

Silently, Da Wei served each dish. Before Xin Yune realized it, he had set a warm towel beside her, poured her tea, and nudged the soup closer with an encouraging smile.

She ate.

Warmth spread through her body in a way no medicine ever had. The food was exquisite, layered with savory richness and a subtle sweetness from unfamiliar herbs. More than that, it was the simple act of being cared for with such quiet patience that made her chest tighten.

Da Wei watched with quiet satisfaction.

“It has been a long time since I cooked with my own hands,” he said. “This is a nice change of pace.”

The years continued to drift by. Another century passed, and his body slowly restored what had once been lost. His intestines regenerated, his missing rib returned, and under Xin Yune’s treatment, the rest of his injuries gradually disappeared.

Mt. Qingshi settled into a peaceful routine. The Primaries visited from time to time. Da Wei’s closest friends arrived bearing gifts, complaints, or absurdly specific requests. Nongmin came as well, though Xin Yune had long suspected her son’s visits had less to do with filial duty than with finding new opportunities to exchange barbs with Da Wei.

Even so, the tranquility endured.

Three hundred years passed after Xin Yune came to Mt. Qingshi.

By then, Da Wei had recovered almost completely. Only one wound remained.

His heart.

Though Xin Yune had long since given up trying to understand his impossible anatomy, she could never ignore the absence of one of the body’s most vital organs.

Da Wei, however, remained as calm as ever, as though living without a heart were no more troublesome than wearing a torn sleeve.

One evening, Da Wei stood before her in the same room where she had first found him battered and half-dead.

Now, his posture was steady, his breathing smooth, and his gaze clear. His blood had fully recovered, his wounds had vanished, and only the invisible absence within him remained.

He bowed his head.

“Thank you for everything,” he said quietly. “But it’s time for me to return to work.”

Xin Yune held his gaze.

“Was there another reason you brought me back to life?”

For a long moment, Da Wei said nothing.

Xin Yune thought back to the day she had accepted the end of her long life. It had taken every ounce of courage to close her eyes and surrender after years of duty, longing, and regret. She wasn’t sure she could ever find that courage again. Not after being pulled back from death and forced to continue a life she had already chosen to leave behind.

At last, Da Wei offered a small, apologetic smile.

“I was desperate to obtain Meng Po,” he admitted. “In that desperation, I called back the part of her I believed I could revive more easily. You.” He lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry for disturbing your rest. If there is any way I can make amends, I will.”

Xin Yune searched his face.

She had heard similar words from him before, dismissing them as attempts to ease his own guilt. This time was different. There was neither humor nor deflection in his voice. There was only quiet sincerity.

It made her chest ache.

Another memory surfaced.

Da Wei had always reminded her of her mortal husband.

Not because they looked identical, but because they shared the same youthful vitality, the same warmth in their eyes, and the same gentle stubbornness that made them seem brighter than the world around them.

That resemblance had drawn her to him when old age had begun to claim her. She had been longing for the husband who had given her Nongmin, the man time had stolen from her. When she first met Da Wei, part of her had believed fate had returned him to her.

She lowered her gaze.

“When I was dying of old age,” she said softly, “I took you into my bed because I missed that youthful warmth. You reminded me of my husband. When I first saw you, I truly thought he had returned... or perhaps been reincarnated.”

Da Wei smiled, his expression unexpectedly gentle.

“It was a difficult time for me as well,” he said. “I could blame it on Nongmin’s convoluted plan to soften me with a honeypot scheme.” He chuckled softly. “But I’d rather believe it was fate that brought us together, however briefly. There was never any hidden reason for bringing you back. It simply happened that way.”

Xin Yune laughed despite herself.

“You’ve always been a romantic,” she said. “So... fate?”

Da Wei glanced toward the window.

“Back on Earth, we have something called a doppelganger. Not the supernatural kind. Sometimes two completely unrelated people simply happen to share the same face—”

Xin Yune silenced him with a kiss.

Even she hadn’t realized she intended to move until her lips met his. The kiss carried years of loneliness, gratitude, and feelings she had buried for far too long.

Da Wei stiffened for only a heartbeat before gently returning it.

She pulled away almost at once.

Heat rushed to her face as she took a step back.

“I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to...”

Da Wei sighed, wearing an exasperated smile that never reached the kindness in his eyes.

“I think you did,” he said softly. “But we can’t.”

The words settled between them with quiet finality.

Xin Yune closed her eyes, then smiled with a hint of resignation.

“We can stay friends,” she said.

Da Wei’s smile did not falter, but something in it looked weary in a way Xin Yune had rarely seen.

“That would be for the best,” he said.

He gave her a small bow, a farewell so courteous it felt colder than any rejection.

“Goodbye, Xin Yune.”

The Dark Veil stirred behind him.

It did not open like a door. It tore through reality like a silent wound, darkness unfolding wide enough to swallow him whole. Da Wei stepped backward into it, his figure dissolving into shadow before vanishing completely.

The room fell quiet.

Xin Yune remained where she stood long after he was gone.

At last, she let out an exasperated groan and turned away, as though distance alone could erase the embarrassment burning across her face.

“Idiot,” she muttered.

After a pause, she sighed.

“And you’re no blushing little girl anymore, Xin Yune. That was the height of stupidity.”

A voice answered behind her.

“Now I’m feeling jealous.”

Xin Yune froze.

She turned slowly.

A handsome man stood in the room as though he had always been there. His long dark hair fell over blue-and-gold robes, and his smile carried an almost painful tenderness. Beneath it lurked something far darker, a quiet malice that was not directed at her, yet tainted the air around him.

Xin Yune instinctively stepped back.

“Who are you?”

His smile deepened.

“Can’t you feel it?” he asked softly as he took a step closer. “It’s me, Yune’er.”

The world seemed to stop.

Her blood ran cold.

She knew that smile.

It belonged to the mortal farmer she had fled the royal palace with in her youth, the husband she had mourned long ago. Though he now wore the face of a stranger, his eyes were unmistakable.

“It’s the eyes, isn’t it?” he said with a playful smile. “They say they’re the window to the soul.”

“No...” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “You’re dead.”

He smiled again, and then his appearance began to change.

“You’re the Supreme Heart,” Xin Yune whispered as realization struck. “You’re Da Wei’s enemy.”

“And that makes him your enemy as well.”

His features continued to shift until they settled into a face she knew all too well. It was Da Wei’s face. For a heartbeat, her mind refused to accept what she was seeing.

The resemblance was perfect from the same brows, the same eyes, and the same smile. Only the presence behind them had changed. It was cold, possessive, and ancient.

Xin Yune trembled.

“How?” she whispered. “You’re lying... Why are you doing this?”

Supreme Heart stepped closer and gently cupped her cheek. His touch was cool, almost affectionate, yet it filled her with revulsion.

His smile softened.

“Because everything will be perfect again,” he murmured. “Everything will return to the way it was always meant to be.”

Xin Yune could not breathe.