The question followed her as her eyes drifted closed once more, her head settling against his chest where she could hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

It didn't matter, she told herself.

Nothing mattered anymore.

In a handful of hours, all questions would become meaningless, all pain would cease, and all memories would fade into the blessed darkness of mortal ignorance.

She had fought against her fate for decades, clinging to fragments of divine memory while her essence was slowly drained away.

She had endured the systematic destruction of everything she had once been, watching helplessly as her power flowed into the vessel that wore her son's face.

But everyone had limits, even gods.

Even her.

It was time to surrender.

Time to let go of the rage, the pain, and the bitter knowledge that had sustained her through the worst of it.

Time to embrace the peace that awaited beyond the veil of death.

Heaven had won.

Heaven always won.

No mortal soul, no matter how divine their origin, could stand against the inexorable will of cosmic law.

She had been a fool to try, and her punishment was the slow, agonizing dissolution of everything that had made her who she was.

Let it end.

Please, just let it end.

"I have never seen someone strong enough to fight against their destiny and still be alive until now."

The words penetrated the fog of her surrender like arrows of pure light, causing her eyes to flutter open once more.

She found herself looking up into those crimson depths, seeing something there that she hadn't expected—not pity, not disgust, not the cold calculation she had learned to associate with power.

Respect.

Recognition.

Understanding.

She blinked slowly, trying to process what she was hearing.

Just words, surely.

Meaningless comfort offered to ease the passing of someone who had suffered enough.

But there was something in his tone, a sincerity that resonated with the fragments of her divine nature that still remained.

A smile began to curve his lips—not mocking, not cruel, but warm with genuine admiration.

It transformed his face entirely, softening the harsh lines of authority and revealing something almost tender beneath the mask of imperial power.

"You better live, at least for me," Tianlong stated, looking at the woman, uncaring about how she looked right now, given he could see she was very strong.

When he arrived in this world, with the integration of the old frail emperor's memory with him and how desperate he was to live, to survive.

'System.' There was no sympathy in him for her, but rather respect for how she, like him, was predestined to die yet without having a system, lived this long for him to meet her.

So he did what might just be his gift to his soon-to-be wife, who impressed him due to her tenacity rather than beauty: he channeled the maximum vitality his body could offer to her.

[ Transferring the vitality to the individual: 47,250 ---> Remaining Vitality: 50,000/1,500,000 ( Overflow stabilizing) ]

[ Warning: Channeling that much vitality again would lead to severe consequences for the host's body. ]

SWOOSH.

"From now on, your life is mine—"

'!'

The words washed over her like a benediction, carrying with them a surge of energy unlike anything she had ever experienced.

Not the cold, sterile power of heaven, nor the parasitic drain that had sustained her tormentor—this was something else entirely.

Something warm and vital and completely foreign to the heaven's will that had shaped her existence.

It was Life Force flooding through her system like liquid fire, racing through withered meridians and sparking against damaged spiritual channels.

Her eyes widened in shock as sensation returned to limbs that had been numb for months, as strength flowed back into muscles that had forgotten what it meant to move without pain.

Her hands—her hands were moving.

Trembling fingers emerged from bloodstained bandages, the skin still pale and marked with old wounds but no longer the translucent parchment of the dying.

'Ah... what is this?' Naturally, she wasn't healed. Her meridians were still damaged, her core dantian shattered, and her body still withered and malnourished. But what changed was how she felt the clutch of death weaken, not just temporarily.

She felt she had recovered a month's worth of vitality in an instant.

Of course, it doesn't sound like much to gain a month's worth of life for someone who was inevitably dying, but for her, who had been fighting alone until now, this was like a small light, a hope that told her, 'It's fine, you don't have to fight alone, I'm here.'

Tears spilled down her cheeks as she lifted them before her face, watching them shake with the simple, impossible miracle of motion.

And most of the reason that caused tears was the fact that this favor wasn't from the heavens.

The life force surging through her was like nothing she had encountered in all her millennia of existence.

It carried no signature of divine authority, bore no mark of heaven's origin—yet it was transforming her dying shell with casual ease, pulling her back from the very brink of dissolution.

Her broken voice emerged as barely a whisper, cracked and hoarse from disuse but carrying the weight of desperate gratitude.

"Who are you?" she asked, her voice, thanks to the recovered vitality, finally escaping her dying throat. She wanted to know who he was and exactly what he had done to her.

Why had he given her this hope, which might not even be temporary?

After all, for someone like her, this much vitality being given from this man was simply that she was becoming a parasite too—a parasite that was sucking away his life force.

She had just become what she had always hated the most—a parasite feeding on someone else's life force. Yet, strangely enough, she hadn't asked for it, but he still had. Why?

Tianlong's smile widened, those crimson eyes dancing with an amusement that held no mockery, only warmth and a slight bit of teasing as he watched her surprise.

Something about that widened expression in her eyes made him want to see it more.

Technically, he had thought to not reveal to her that he knew about her other life, but he wanted to confirm if she had memory of that origin or not. This was the perfect chance to do so; through her reaction, he could know if she remembered her past life or not.

So he said, but made sure to say it teasingly, leaning down so that his nose touched her bloodied face, uncaring of the stench coming from her. His nose touching hers, his crimson eyes met hers, which seemed to have turned silver. He said, "For your mortal body, I am your father-in-law."

'!'

He saw her eyes blink in that moment, telling him that at least she had memory of her present life; she hadn't forgotten it or developed some kind of dementia.

And now it was time to check if she had memory of her origin too.

That might just ease the route he wanted to take, either making her fall for him by fooling her or genuinely being what he was.

So he nudged her nose with his and said, "But for the beauty within it, I am your dear husband."

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