The Psychopath's Harem



"What do you desire most in life?" Xia Tian's sudden question pierced the air.

Xia Tian's smile seemed to echo inwardly as he redirected the conversation. "Let's rephrase the question: what do you hold closest to your heart, Little Chen?"

Xia Chen snapped out of his contemplative reverie, his wry smile emerging. "You already claimed one piece of it yesterday, Brother Tian. Aren't you satisfied yet?"

"Oh, did I now?" Xia Tian feigned innocence, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes that made Xia Chen's face twitch in response.

Then, in a sudden burst of laughter, Xia Tian's voice filled the air. "Could it be your little sister!?"

Xia Chen's expression darkened as he struggled to find a retort.

Suppressing the urge to deliver a punch to Xia Tian's arrogant face, he took a deep breath and sighed heavily. In the depths of his thoughts, he pondered his own helplessness.

Life felt like a relentless cycle of things gradually being taken away, and Xia Tian was always at the center of it all.

Suddenly, Xia Tian slapped Xia Chen's back a few times. "Come on, Little Chen. Why don't you talk about something other than Xia Ying, something you desire most?" His tone took on a unique obvious change as if he was trying to coax the information out of Xia Chen.

With a heavy sigh and a brooding expression, Xia Chen opted for silence and walked away.

"What did you find out?" Xia Tian's voice broke the silence, directed at thin air.

In the next instant, a much more composed Xu Qing materialized beside him. "He cares most deeply for his wife, Ye Qingyue. His true motive for seeking power in this life is to locate any trace of his daughter, in case she managed to survive. He didn't witness her death with his own eyes."

Xu Qing's eyes flickered with a complex blend of emotions as she disclosed her findings.

At that very moment, she was within Xia Chen's mind, an inherent ability of the foxes—illusions that granted them access to the innermost thoughts of others.

A member of the royal bloodline, Xu Qing was trained by the Primordial Demon herself. With such lineage, she could easily infiltrate anyone's mind at will.

"Who is Ye Qingye?" Xu Qing murmured to herself, curiosity evident in her tone.

Xia Tian's laughter floated through the air. "Do you want to see for yourself?"

Xu Qing hesitated only briefly before nodding in affirmation.

With a knowing smile, Xia Tian's lips curled upwards. The pieces of his intricate plan were slowly falling into place. He had already obtained Xia Chen's daughter. Snatching away his first love would undoubtedly deliver the final blow, shattering Xia Chen completely.

_______

In the heart of a mesmerizing conversation between Xia Tian and Xia Chen, an mysterious presence materialized in the very air around them.

A delicate aura, scarcely tangible yet unmistakably there, wove itself into the tapestry of their words.

Amidst the ethereal current, the woman's hair, a cascade of pinkish-purple, danced in a choreography all its own. It was as if the strands themselves were whispers carried by the cold wind, yet her form betrayed no shiver, no concession to the chill that wrapped its fingers around the world. Thin garments clung to her figure, offering no protection, but her demeanor radiated a warmth that defied the elements.

Long hair flowed like a silken river, its hues an intoxicating blend of pink and purple that shimmered under the shifting light. Her eyes, a mosaic of emotions, held a perpetual flicker of melancholy—a tale that only the depths of her gaze could tell. Lips the color of ripe cherries punctuated her countenance, inviting curiosity and sparking intrigue.

But it wasn't just her features that held an otherworldly allure.

The contours of her form, blessed with breasts that stood firm and proud, just above the plane of average, evoked a rare blend of allure and grace.

A waist that tapered to perfection embodied the very essence of elegance itself.

In the symphony of this encounter, an aura—faint yet undeniable—radiated from her being.

Akin to the elusive presence of Selene, her energy was a distant echo of that unimaginable power.

Though weaker in magnitude, it carried the same intangible magnetism, drawing attention without demanding it, and leaving an indelible mark upon the senses.

"Husband, it's merely a matter of time until our paths meet again," Ye Qingyue murmured, her heart weighed down by a profound ache. Her gaze remained unswervingly fixed upon the silhouette of Xia Chen.

In a bygone era, she had undergone a chilling prophecy—one that foretold an enigmatic demise shared by both herself and her beloved husband.

During that haunting juncture, an mysterious old man had materialized, his presence shrouded in mystery, just as the prophecy had foreseen.

He had unveiled a daring gambit as the sole means to salvage their intertwined fates.

The remedy?

A vicious path, in which Ye Qingyue orchestrated her own apparent death, only to find herself reborn in an unfamiliar vessel, the truth of her identity hidden from all but the cosmos.

Much like her, Xia Chen had traversed the currents of reincarnation, emerging once more into the tapestry of existence.

Her heart surged with a blend of relief and exultation upon discovering his presence among the realm of mortals.

The present lack of his former power stirred not a flicker of worry within her. Such reservations were unfounded, given the wellspring of her husband's innate talents. 

It was only a matter of time before he soared to celestial heights, propelled by the very essence that had always set him apart.

Yet, amid this resurgence of life, one enigma persisted like a shadow, its edges indistinct: the identity of the hand that had felled her husband in their previous life.

How had the great demon king met his end, obscured in a veil of inscrutable circumstances?

This conundrum lingered, a puzzle locked in the grasp of eternity.

Even the old sage, now her mentor and guide, remained resolute in his silence. He deftly sidestepped divulging any semblance of truth, withholding vital revelations regarding Xiao Chen's tragic past or the powerful slayer who had driven him to his untimely demise.

The secrets, like constellations hidden by daylight, remained frustratingly concealed.

Ye Qingyue found herself entangled in a forbidden pursuit, albeit sternly cautioned by the old sage against seeking out Xia Chen.

Yet, an uncanny intuition had led her to sense his presence during her recent journey near the sacred sky jade realm. With a heart divided by curiosity and caution, she had begun clandestinely observing him from the shroud of shadows, unaware of the unforeseen rewards that lay ahead.

"Why does his aura shroud itself in such mystery?" Ye Qingyue mused, her brows knitted in bewilderment.

As she attempted to fix her gaze upon Xia Tian, it slipped past him as though he were a mere illusion.

However, there was no denying that Xia Chen engaged in conversation with this enigmatic figure.

How could a presence be so potent and yet intangible?

Ye Qingyue embarked on a perilous journey to unravel the destiny of Xia Tian's soul—a fate that even Destiny itself could not unveil, let alone her senses.

Amidst her contemplation, a sudden surge of alarm rippled through her. Instinctively, she took several steps back, senses heightened.

"WHO IS HIDING HERE!? REVEAL YOURSELF!" Her voice shattered the silence, reverberating through the ethereal stillness.

In response, the atmosphere quivered with an ominous darkness, shivers cascading down her spine, and a primal fear constricting her throat.

Beads of cold sweat adorned her back, prompting her to act swiftly.

Swift as a gust of wind, she moved.

Whoosh!

In the blink of an eye, an immense scythe materialized, its energy ethereal and pure, descending precisely where she had stood moments ago.

Yet, before it could make contact, a mysterious silhouette emerged, azure eyes ablaze with an otherworldly light, catching the deadly weapon with an effortless grace.

Whoosh!

"What!?"

Ye Qingyue moved again, but it was already too late. Her back seared with pain, blood trickling, and as she squinted her eyes, a similar shadow emerged.

This time, however, it bore deep golden eyes that seemed to pierce into the depths of her soul.

A shiver raced down Ye Qingyue's spine, her every instinct urging her to flee.

With a fleeting glance at the sky, she launched herself into motion.

Swoosh!

Her figure became a blur, traversing the landscape at a speed that shattered sound barriers. Casting a nervous glance behind her, she sighed in relief—no pursuer in sight.

Yet, when she dared to look skyward again, the two mysterious shadows loomed above, an eerie anticipation radiating from their forms.

Realizing escape was futile, Ye Qingyue halted in mid-air. "Who are you!? Why are you attacking me?"

"I am Ye Qingyue, one of the holy saints beneath the 'City of Divine Light'!"

"Reveal your identity!"

Faced with her own limitations, Ye Qingyue leaned on the weight of her esteemed position to deter her assailants.

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