Investing in the Reborn Empress, She Actually Calls Me ‘Husband’

Fight scenes are this rookie author’s weakness, so writing them is slow—my apologies.

He’s dead for sure.

That was Blood God’s thought the moment he seized Li Mo in his grasp.

This body had long since perished, been suppressed for years, and was now further shackled by Ying Bing’s restraints. Yet, he still believed no physical form in this world could surpass his own.

Even the innate divine dragon physique of Great Yu’s chosen was modeled after his own ever-shifting form.

As for this brat who had barely crossed the threshold of the Fourth Realm? If not for that staff and armor of unfathomable origin, he wouldn’t even qualify to stand before him.

“Could those be relics from the Celestial Realm?”

Blood God had witnessed countless geniuses and heroes in his time.

But someone like Li Mo… he’d truly never seen before.

Just then, Blood God suddenly felt his palm grow searing hot, as if clutching a blazing stellar core—growing hotter still, as though it were transforming into a sun.

Within the bloody mist, the sky of another world had unknowingly manifested, adorned with six celestial bodies… no, seven. One was the Moon.

The seventh was—

“An inner realm projection? No… this isn’t a mental landscape… nor an external one…”

Even as shock flashed through Blood God’s mind, greed quickly eclipsed his wariness.

A real world? One even more tangible than the Heavenly Phoenix Domain?

Wasn’t this what the Nine Immortals had been searching for—something only Phoenix Heaven had ever come close to achieving?

Boom—

Layers of blood mist exploded from his palm, scattering waves of sinister, decaying energy.

The nascent world began to collapse the moment it descended, its destructive force unbearable even for him.

A treasure coveted by the immortals of the Nine Heavens was being destroyed—yet its owner remained unfazed, his gaze burning only with heightened battle intent.

Young Li knew his miniature world was crumbling.

Li Mo understood the vast gulf between them.

He was fully aware that the being before him could be called the progenitor of physical cultivation across all realms.

And yet—

He wanted to know what it meant to stand between life and death.

What it meant to face a cataclysm of heaven and earth.

What it meant to endure ten thousand calamities unbroken.

What it meant to grasp the profundity of the Seventy-Two Transformations.

Struggling to suppress the collapsing world, he drew all its tribulations and phenomena into himself. Then, shrinking the Compliant Golden-Hooped Staff, he drove it into his dantian—ensuring this foreign power wouldn’t instantly obliterate his body and soul.

He was no emperor, yet his burdens outweighed any sovereign’s.

He was no immortal or god—he was the calamity that would rot them all!

Lawful Embodiment of Heaven and Earth!

…

Above the firmament, a struggle for control of the Heavenly Phoenix Domain raged.

The commotion in the Celestial City had momentarily quieted.

Meanwhile, the Earthly and Mortal Cities had become grinding pits of flesh and blood. Blood God’s ability to regenerate from droplets spawned hundreds—no, thousands—of martial artists mutating into demonic abominations.

Those who had inherited the Celestial Race’s legacy were spared, though whether this was fortune or misfortune remained unclear.

“Wake up, damn it!”

Old Li’s roar split the air as his blade swept forth, a gale-force slash engulfing a white ape demon ahead.

The demon, its ferocity undiminished, charged recklessly despite the obvious disparity.

The result? A bisected corpse, its grotesque innards painting the ground. In its final moments, a flicker of clarity returned to its eyes as it gazed at Old Li with remorse.

“Young master…”

“What the hell is happening…?”

Grief and fury twisted Old Li’s heart. That white ape had been a family guard, a comrade of many years.

Yet when he’d come to check on him earlier, the ape no longer recognized his own wife or child.

Now, Old Li was certain—within these walls, any martial artist who hadn’t accepted the Celestial Race’s legacy was likely already…

Crash!

The gates of the Li Manor shattered. Leading the charge were two demons: a pitch-black bear and a violet-striped tiger, followed by dozens of other horrors.

“No chance in a fight…”

Old Li edged toward the rear exit—only to freeze as the back door exploded inward.

Not by a foot.

By a hoof.

His face paled. Damn it all.

A three-zhang-tall cow-headed demoness stood there, wielding a spiked mace. Steam hissed from her nostrils, her muscles gleaming like forged steel.

Terrifying.

She looked even deadlier than the ones at the front.

“Finished… I never got to see Li Mo marry, never held a grandchild… all over now…”

Pincered from both sides, Old Li was toast.

Or so he thought.

The cow demoness lunged forward, crossing dozens of zhang in a step, and flattened the bear into a pelt with one swing.

The two demon factions clashed—with the cow-headed side fighting brutally, even against their own kind.

“If they’re slaughtering their own, what hope do I have?”

“With this many demons, how’d they even split my scrawny frame…”

Mid-panic, Old Li noticed something odd.

That emblem on the cow demoness’s chest… why did it look familiar?

“Uncle Li, you alright?”

The cow demoness spoke while still mid-battle.

Old Li: “?”

Baffled.

“Brother Li Mo sent me to find you. The city’s too dangerous now.”

“Oh.”

Relief washed over him.

Soon, the demons bearing the Catchblade Society’s sigil had either fled or lay dead, brutalized by their supposed allies.

“Come with us. The closer to the Celestial City, the deadlier it gets. Safety in numbers.”

“How did the Celestial-Mortal City fall to this… Will we even survive?”

Old Li sighed, then asked,

“That brat—he’s not with you? Did he leave already?”

“Nope.”

“Then where is he?”

No way he’d leave without seeing his son first.

“Just look behind you.”

“Behind…?”

Dong Geyu’s words made Old Li turn—and what he saw rooted him to the spot.

Within the Celestial City, two colossal figures clashed.

One, ink-black, was the same shadow he’d glimpsed earlier.

The other, now crimson-gold (perhaps once pure gold, stained by blood), stood unwavering amidst the apocalyptic chaos—a light unyielding even as heaven and earth crumbled.

Rooted in primordial chaos, he wielded a hammer and sickle.

Like a scarlet lightning bolt, he collided head-on with the darkness.

“That’s… my son.”

Old Li followed Dong Geyu and the others, glancing back repeatedly as they retreated.

Had anyone else told him, he’d never believe it.

But a father’s eyes don’t lie.

Why did it have to be his boy saving the Celestial-Mortal City?

Selfish thoughts arose, yet he was powerless—left only to pray that the giant wouldn’t fall.

Meanwhile…

Perhaps because Chu Ge was fully occupied contending with Ying Bing for the Heavenly Phoenix Domain, Emperor Jingtai slipped his attention.

The spectral image of the Rivers and Mountains Scroll once more materialized over the imperial capital.