Cain had stolen my ten drops of heartblood and given them to Yvette.

In other words, I had saved Yvette's life ten times without even knowing what she looked like.

Descending upon the mortal realm, I found the cottage that Cain had once described to me.

That was the first time I saw her—a woman in her forties, taking out the laundry. She had wrinkles lining the corner of her eyes, dressed in tweed clothes. She looked ordinary.

However, she was also brimming with vigor, and there was no hint that death was looming for her—my heartblood must have worked wonders.

I stood outside, watching for a long while until I saw Cain stepping out of the cottage.

Dressed in all-white, there was a smile on his picturesquely handsome face as he dropped to a crouch, taking the laundry from her as he spoke gently, "I'll do it. You get some rest."

Yvette caught his hand, speaking in a melodious voice despite her age, "No, you don't know this stuff. You rest. I'll cook after I'm done here."

Cain sighed, staging silent for a while and said, "I should go soon. Crystal's still waiting for me."

Hearing that, Yvette dropped the laundry with a splash in the bucket, and exclaimed in panic, "Why? It's just been a few days. What's the hurry?"

Cain gently withdrew his hand from her grasp and lowered his gaze, "I must go. This is the last time we'll see each other—I have an obligation to do right by her after I marry her."

Yvette pursed her lips, tears welling up in her eyes as she choked with tears, "What about me? Don't you care about me? Could you have transcended if not for my pill? Would you have been able to meet her?"

Cain's brow furrowed and annoyance showed in his eyes. "I've saved you ten times. Isn't that enough?"

"No! I'm never letting you go!"

Yvette suddenly sprang to her feet in agitation, throwing herself into Cain's arms as she cried, "You despise me for being old, don't you? Because I'm not as beautiful as her?"

"I know we're never getting back together, and I know I was saved by her heartblood, but you have all the time in the world with her. All I ask is that you just spend a few decades with me—can't you do that? How long do you think I'll live?"

Cain turned silent for a long while, his annoyance fading from his eyes as he hugged Yvette back.

Perhaps convinced, he gently spoke in a quiet voice, "Alright, I'll stay with you."

Crack!

I unwittingly broke a branch beneath my foot, and Cain turned to frown at me almost at a split second.

I promptly hid behind a tree, my still bleeding heart pounding loudly!

However, Cain's eyes turned cool as ice as he chanted an incarnation and launched a blue flash at me.

I met his gaze for a split second before I dodged the flash, slipping and falling in a puddle of mud.

I could hear Yvette asking gingerly, "Who was that?"

Seemingly calm down, Cain's voice was tender, "Nothing. Just some white-haired hag—most likely another mortal."

My heart sank to the abyss as I realized he didn't recognize me.

With that, I left—to Mount Guileless, the border where the mortal realm met the immortal realm.

It took me a day to find an abandoned hut, where I lay and waited for my death. I could tell that it would collapse soon, which hopefully would bury me. Who knows, I might grow again if the heavens took pity on me.

Just a couple of days spent flat on my back, however, I felt the air stirring.

While I was just feeling puzzled, a wounded cultist barged in.

His robes were black embroidered with golden threads, and his long hair was tied into a high ponytail. He had the air of virtue, but there were specks of blood on it despite his noble appearance.

And if not for the dark lines that could vaguely be seen between his brows, I would have mistaken him for a bladesman.

As our eyes met, I remained silent as his eyes lit up, and he exclaimed in greed and surprise, "A Wisteria?"

Before I could answer, he pressed urgently, "Wait, are you dying?"

I followed his gaze as he looked downwards on my chest, and said quietly, "Yeah. Can't help you there—all ten drops of my heartblood was taken."

His gaze dimming in disappointment, the cultist clutched his wounded abdomen and sat in a corner.

"Who could be so greedy?" He asked, seemingly trying to start a conversation out of nothing. "Stealing all ten drops at once? They should be keeping you healthy so that you can regrow a drop before taking it again."

"Not at once," I replied flatly. "It was ten times."

The cultist's expression stiffened, sympathy showing in his eyes. "That's cruel. A demon?"

I shook my head. "No, my husband."

He turned silent, while something occurred to me.

Pulling a pouch out of my sleeve, I walked up to the cultist and poured a mess of pills and mystic items, telling him, "I'll be dead soon. No use keeping these around—check if there's anything that could save your life and use it."

He stared at me as if I was mad. "You're helping me? I was going to take your heartblood."

Then, he once again continued before I could speak, with a pointed stare on my chest, "Ah, a Bleeding Heart too. Shouldn't be surprised."

Not inclined to argue, I dropped the pouch and was going to lie down again when he called out to me, "Hey, do you want to live?"

I paused, and he continued before I could turn, "Why don't I help you with your revenge?"