When Feng Qingyun heard the Demon Lord’s explanation, his expression blanked for a moment. For a fleeting instant, he almost thought it sounded right, close to believing him. But he quickly came back to himself. Even within a dream, the last fragments of reason still told him no.
Absolutely not. If they really did that… He would definitely break!
Feng Qingyun tried to get up and flee, but his man was already prepared, grabbing his waist and yanking him back in one fluent movement, pressing him directly into the bed.
The force wasn’t impossible to resist, and the bedding was soft, but Feng Qingyun was still thrown into a daze. Before he could react, Long Yin had already wrapped one arm around his waist, leaning over him. Hot breath poured over the nape of his neck while the man asked: “Didn’t you want to bloom?” Long Yin teased softly in his ear. “Why are you running from this Lord?”
Feng Qingyun gripped the bedding tightly with ears as red as blood, nearly grinding the words out from between his teeth: “No… We can’t…”
“Why not?” One of Long Yin’s arms circled his waist, while the other pinched his chin. The man then leaned in, asking in a low, extremely seductive voice: “Wasn’t it you who begged your dragon God? How about you beg this Lord once more?”
And yet, he deliberately left out the second half of the line… No matter how Feng Qingyun begged this time, he never said that begging would mean letting him go. But the one trapped in the dream already had muddled thoughts, easily coaxed. Tricked like that, Feng Qingyun panicked, unable to think clearly: “Please… Please, my dragon God…”
There was still blood spattered on his cheek from killing someone earlier, a mark that should have indicated his fearless and ruthless nature, yet in that moment, he trembled like a frightened bird. Beautiful and full of startling contrast.
As soon as he opened his mouth, Feng Qingyun saw his dragon God smile faintly, reaching up to wipe the blood from his cheek.
“Begging won’t help you,” he said.
In an instant, Feng Qingyun’s entire body stiffened. He snapped back to awareness and glared at Long Yin, humiliated and angry: “You!”
But before he could finish swearing, the man seized his chin and kissed him once more.
Red candles glowed warmly, and the bed curtains slowly descended, revealing only one slender, pale hand, clutching helplessly at the bedding. The once calloused palm that had gripped a sword now rubbed against smooth silk, tingling faintly. White, slender fingers pressed against the vivid red mattress, trembling beneath a rain of sweat droplets that had fallen from who knew where, leaving Feng Qingyun completely dazed.
He hadn’t cried once when his branches were severed, nor did he cry when he suffered severe pain in his past life. Not even in front of the collapsed heavens, and not even when he stood in despair, witnessing his person die in front of him twice. In the eyes of those who had once known him, he had always been gentle but unyielding, courteous, and composed.
Even Mu Hanyang had rarely seen him cry, except during that first year after he managed to cultivate a human form.
But now, beneath the comfort and warmth of the red candles, he clutched the bedcovers and began to sob quietly, filled with immeasurable shame. Tears streamed down like pearls while Feng Qingyun cursed through them: “You bastard…”
“Such a thorny little rose, and still dares to curse this Lord,” the man said as he kissed the tears from his face, licking the traces they left behind. “Disrespecting a God, tell me, what punishment do you deserve?”
“What kind of God are you… You’re just a bastard!” Feng Qingyun choked out through reddened eyes. But before he could exhaust his very limited vocabulary of insults, his expression froze, and his whole person turned to stone. In an instant, a glimmer of fear flickered through his eyes, making him ask with a trembling voice: “…What… What are you doing?!”
“Nothing,” the shameless dragon God said with a laugh, pinching his waist. “Just trying to improve the efficiency of pollination. You were doing such a good job cursing this Lord earlier, why stop now, hmm?” His tone remained smooth and confident, but there were black, shiny scales emerging along his neck, betraying his excitement and shimmering faintly in the low light.
Feng Qingyun gripped the bedding in silence, unable to force out a single word. Long Yin clicked his tongue, worried that he might actually pass out, so he whispered: “Focus on me, my Little Rose.”
The next moment, Feng Qingyun was hoisted up by force, his arms clinging to Long Yin’s neck as if he had died once already. In desperation, he clawed at the scales on the other’s neck, nearly peeling one clean off. However, Long Yin didn’t even flinch, as if it wouldn’t matter if his entire body was scraped off, even fully skinned. Instead, he lowered his head and kissed him fiercely.
Even at that point, the Linshuang Sword Master still lived up to his name. Gritting his teeth, Feng Qingyun turned away from the kiss and snapped at him, with tears still running down his face: “Don’t you dare… You bastard, don’t you dare put both…!”
Long Yin chuckled, completely unfazed by the threat. He figured a few words of coaxing would be enough to soften this inexperienced Little Rose. But in the next moment, his expression froze, realizing that from some point going forward, he could no longer move.
He couldn’t even speak.
Don’t go against the dreamer’s wishes!
Qing Luo’s words echoed in his ears, leaving Long Yin completely frozen, his pupils contracting sharply in disbelief. That might’ve been the most humiliating moment in the life of both the dragon God and the Demon Emperor alike. He, who claimed not to have any memories of his past life, had by all measures been winning so far. From raiding Xiān Gōng Sect and stealing his wife back, to this very moment, everything had unfolded precisely according to his whims and desires!
Everything had gone smoothly, and there was nothing, absolutely nothing, that could have prepared him for that moment.
The fearless Demon Emperor Long Yin, the dragon God who was adept at all kinds of illusions, was now… Rendered completely powerless during his own wedding night, on his own bed…By his own wife… Unable to control an illusion!
Beneath him, Feng Qingyun lay catching his breath, a faint flush still lingering at the corners of his eyes. He blinked in confusion, clearly not understanding why the man above had stopped so suddenly. After taking a moment to steady his breath, he asked, voice trembling in suspicion: “…What’s wrong with you?”
The moment he asked, Long Yin tried to answer…
But his body still wouldn’t move.
However, a wise man knew when to retreat, and Long Yin was just the type to humour his beloved even if it meant he had to swallow a loss. And yet, just as he was about to admit defeat, the next second…
…Feng Qingyun, still panting, narrowed his eyes and muttered vaguely: “…Forget it. This might be better like this anyway.”
“?!”
Before Long Yin could even begin to form a reaction, Feng Qingyun suddenly sat up. Using his full strength, he shoved him flat into the mattress and straddled him without hesitation.
“!”
Long Yin’s pupils contracted sharply.
But the person on top of him was still panting slightly as he gave a single command: “Don’t move!”
His gaze did not carry the half-hearted glare of the past, reminiscent of the kind Feng Qingyun used when he was angry but never truly intended to act. No, this time around, his look resembled the one he had in that brief illusion from the Tong Tianpei, the full embodiment of Linshuang Sword Master, a man who trusted no one and bowed down in front of no one, Demon Lord or not.
It was a look that said he might actually drive his sword straight through Long Yin’s chest at any moment, if he dared to misbehave.
But to have that happen while they were doing it…
It was absolutely maddening!
Long Yin’s throat bobbed twice before he realized his body was no longer restricted. As soon as he could move, he instinctively reached for Feng Qingyun’s waist, murmuring through gritted teeth: “My righteous Linshuang Sword Master, you’re so fierce… What, are you really planning to wring this Lord dry?!”
Feng Qingyun’s brow twitched from the touch, seemingly irritated that Long Yin could counter his restriction. He clicked his tongue in irritation and, in the next instant, his magnificent main vine filled with thorns and plump rose buds emerged in answer, directly binding Long Yin’s arms behind his back.
This time around, Long Yin’s expression finally showed both shock and surprise. However, it seemed to please Feng Qingyun quite a bit since his lips curled up, and he brazenly followed the desire to give the tightened abdominal muscles beneath him a firm squeeze.
“I said don’t move,” Feng Qingyun said as he pressed against his man. “Did I tell you you could touch me just now?”
Long Yin sucked in a cold breath, every muscle in his body tensing as he held back. For a moment, he couldn’t even speak. In fact, the vine’s restraint was next to nothing for him, and if he wanted, Long Yin could break free at any moment.
But… He must not defy the dreamer’s wish.
At the moment, the dreamscape looked stable, and Feng Qingyun seemed to enjoy it very much, with no signs of waking up. But after that earlier situation when he almost regained consciousness, who could say what might happen if he was displeased again?! The dream could collapse at any moment!
So Long Yin could only endure. Endure until the veins on his forehead bulged, nearly swearing aloud. As for his tormentor, the flower demon, half-dressed in a wedding robe with his shoulders bare, leaned down over his body and muttered: “…Why are you so difficult? So much more troublesome than anyone else.”
“…You’ve tried others?!” Long Yin had lost all of his earlier composure, and the danger and desire within him were now burned plainly across his face. “Little Rose…” he continued. “You’d better let this Lord go. This is your last chance.”
Feng Qingyun narrowed his eyes. As if mirroring his displeasure, his main vine moved once again, this time curling tightly around Long Yin’s neck as well, gripping in warning. “If I don’t, what will you do?” he asked. “Weren’t you a God? If you’ve got the strength, why not break free by yourself?”
The intention to provoke in his tone was impossible to miss. And as he spoke, his main vine seemed to grow impatient, sneaking around from behind Long Yin to his front and brushing gently across his lower body. On it, one of the rose buds that was tightly closed before unfolded briefly, revealing a glimpse of the stamen within.
That fleeting trace of color made Long Yin’s gaze darken deeper than ever before. Yet the owner of that flower remained utterly oblivious, still taunting: “If you can’t break free, then behave yourself and become my nourishment.”
Long Yin stared up at the person who was spewing threats on top of him, unblinking. And then, slowly, a dangerous smile curled across his lips as he asked: “Are you sure about that, Little Palace Master? There’s a saying, never burn a bridge after crossing it… You should always leave a link behind, lest we meet again. If you push this Lord to the limit today…”
“Aren’t you afraid that someday, this Lord will tie you up with your own vine, doing with you as I please?! At that time, you can cry however you want, but no one will come to save you… So you’d better think carefully!”
Such crude words made Feng Qingyun’s ears flush red. However, he snapped out of it quickly, both offended and flustered as he raged: “Shameless! Nonsense! My primordial body would never listen to your… Filthy desires!”
Long Yin’s smile turned slow and meaningful. “That’s not necessarily true,” he said.
Feng Qingyun snorted coldly, and the vines around his prey tightened even more. Pressing down against Long Yin’s abs, he leaned in beside his ear and said: “You talk big, but weren’t you the one who said you’d pollinate every single one of my buds?”
“Let’s see if you can back it up, my beloved dragon God.”
……………………………
When Feng Qingyun opened his eyes, he was momentarily disoriented, while fragments of memory tangled in his mind, threatening to explode. But the sensation within his body was richer than ever before and unlike anything he had experienced in the past.
Even though he hadn’t yet fully recovered from the dream, Feng Qingyun could clearly feel it. He was about to bloom, and if he wished, it could happen at any moment. So, with a mind still clouded, he thought:
Since everything is ready, why not do it now?
The fear and pain buried in his subconscious had long since been washed away by the sweetness that followed, and now, it all felt like something from a past life. The instinct to bloom stirred again in his awareness, and just as he was about to do so, in a place without the slightest protective barrier, his divine consciousness abruptly caught a familiar presence.
Feng Qingyun froze slightly. And the next moment, as expected, someone pushed open the door and entered.
The moment he saw Long Yin’s face, all memories from his dream surged back like molten lava on cold metal. Feng Qingyun’s face flushed as red as a heated stove, and he instantly sat up in his bed.
“No need to rush just yet,” Long Yin said, approaching with a face full of innocent concern. He sat at Feng Qingyun’s side and naturally reached for his wrist, asking: “So, what did you dream about?”
The warmth of that grip made Feng Qingyun’s face alternate between bright red and pale white. As for Long Yin, he was still wearing the same robes from before Feng Qingyun had fallen asleep, his appearance neat and proper. Clearly, he had stayed by his bed all night, without having the chance to change.
Yet somehow, Feng Qingyun’s mind involuntarily pictured what those robes would look like piled on the floor, and the two of them…
He abruptly cut off the thought, not daring to continue down that path, and quickly shifted topics as if trying to distract himself: “…I dreamed of the reason I’d never dared to bloom. But I’ve already let go of that fixation… As long as I want it, I can bloom anytime.”
His voice was oddly hoarse and, at the mention of the reason, Feng Qingyun’s expression shifted once again.
Fortunately, Long Yin’s attention seemed fixed entirely on what he’d just said, frowning slightly. “Never dared?” he asked with a vague trace of surprise in his voice. “You mean it wasn’t that you couldn’t, but didn’t dare to?”
“Mm. Not that I couldn’t… I simply didn’t dare,” Feng Qingyun murmured, lowering his eyes. “The reason I’ve subconsciously avoided blooming all this time was… The pain of having my branches cut and buds plucked in the past.”
Long Yin had originally only been pretending not to know what had happened in the dream, just to tease him a bit, even though Feng Qingyun was just as clueless as ever. However, hearing his words, the Demon Lord’s expression instantly darkened.
As Feng Qingyun calmly recounted the truth, Long Yin’s face grew gloomier by the second, until it was as dark as the bottom of a pot. “I didn’t even know that such a ridiculous reason had kept me from blooming.” Feng Qingyun gave a somewhat self-mocking smile, yet his tone was open and forthright as he continued: “I wasn’t as honest with myself as I pretended to be. And…”
“That’s not ridiculous,” Long Yin said coldly while frowning. “No one gets their limbs cut off and still thinks it’s nothing!” He was usually endlessly indulgent toward Feng Qingyun, but now that he’d lost his temper, with his brows deeply furrowed and gaze stern, he truly looked like a dragon God who had lived for ten thousand years. Unfortunately, Feng Qingyun, shaken by his sudden sternness, looked up at him and was suddenly reminded that…
…In his dream, Long Yin had also looked at him like that, with a similarly dark expression.
“Don’t play favorites, Little Palace Master,” the man said softly. “Switch sides, this one… You’ve already milked dry.”
“Call me ‘brother, ‘ and maybe this Lord will consider letting you go back on top.”
“Brother…”
Pushed to the edge, his man had let out a low laugh, eyes dripping with restrained desire and sharp brows beaded with sweat.
“Don’t regret it later.”
A chill crept up Feng Qingyun’s spine as only one thought surfaced involuntarily in his mind:
Thank the heavens it was only a dream!
If Long Yin had seen his unrestained appearance… His back broke out in a cold sweat, not daring to linger on that thought for a second longer. Lowering his head, Feng Qingyun muttered: “…It won’t happen again.”
Anyone could tell that he was distracted. Long Yin narrowed his eyes, just about to speak, but Feng Qingyun cleared his throat and shifted the topic: “The matter of blooming is urgent now. I can feel it… If I keep holding back, it may do more harm than good. So… The top priority now is finding a place that will completely isolate my divine consciousness.”
Discussing blooming so seriously in front of Long Yin made Feng Qingyun a bit self-conscious. After a short pause, he added: “Also… Before I bloom, I have something I want to say to you.”
Hearing that, Long Yin’s anger dissipated a little. “What is it?” he asked while raising a brow.
Feng Qingyun hesitated, seemingly trying to gather his courage. However, in the next instant, both of them turned their heads toward the door at the same time, just as a polite knock echoed from outside.
Feng Qingyun cleared his throat. “Come in,” he said softly.
It was the fox Patriarch Qing Luo who entered, bringing Bai Ruolin with him. The moment the little girl stepped in, she began apologizing: “Brother, I’m so sorry! After I woke up, I found out you entered the fox clan’s illusion last night. Are you… Okay?”
Before she could finish, she sensed Long Yin’s dark mood and his gloomy gaze. Frightened, Bai Ruolin paused, then cautiously added: “…What’s wrong?”
Feng Qingyun pressed his lips together and gave a light smile while answering: “It’s fine. Don’t mind him. Everything’s already resolved.”
Bai Ruolin’s attention was immediately redirected. “The blood deed too?!” she asked.
“Mm. It will be, very soon,” Feng Qingyun nodded, then looked to Qing Luo.
“We still have you to thank for that, Patriarch.”
“Not at all, Second Palace Master!” Qing Luo quickly replied. “There’s no need to be so polite!” But even if his words were humble, when asking for help, one still had to lower oneself.
Seeing that the formalities were nearly over, Bai Ruolin seemed like she wanted to say something but held back, glancing at the fox Patriarch nearby. In a sense, she was still wary of speaking with an outsider present.
Feng Qingyun caught her glance, then turned and said sincerely to Qing Luo: “If the ancestral fox clan ever needs anything from us in the future, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
Qing Luo paused at that, though surprisingly, he showed no intention of leaving. For a while, a hesitant look passed between his brows, showing he was struggling to come to a decision.
Noticing his torn state of mind, Feng Qingyun asked, “If there’s something you want to say, please feel free.”
“Strictly speaking, it’s not a matter of the present,” Qing Luo sighed before continuing. “But rather, it’s a burden of the past. Since the two Lords won’t be staying long in our little demon realm, I’d like to request something before you leave.”
Feng Qingyun replied at once: “Please go ahead!”
“The world knows that among the ancestral demon clans, there are three Patriarchs who are unmatched in prominence, with all three of us strong enough to serve as generals under His Majesty. But what they don’t know is that… The Patriarch of the spiritual plant clan and the Dream Emperor from the spider clan… They ventured to Xiangqiu a thousand years ago in search of the Heavenly Dao and haven’t returned since,” reaching all the way here, Qing Luo let out another sigh before continuing: “To speak plainly, Xiangqiu lies at the edge of the Demon World, a place no one can reach by ordinary means. But with your strength, it should be easy. If you’re willing… This humble one would like to ask my Lords to make the trip. Whether they are alive or dead, we only ask that you return with news. Nothing else will be asked of you.”
In other words, regardless of life or death, they only wanted confirmation of the two’s condition, and no further action was required.
Feng Qingyun was stunned. Then he suddenly remembered. In his past life of over six hundred years, he had indeed never met the other two demon Patriarchs. Before the heavens collapsed, he had always believed that all three of them were fine, simply because he could still sense their auras. However, besides Qing Luo of the demon fox clan, he’d never deliberately visited the other two, not even once setting foot in the territory of the spiritual plant clan, the place that was supposedly his home. So in truth, he knew nothing about their actual state.
But Xiangqiu? The place where the world… Ended?
What the demons called Xiangqiu was simply the so-called edge of the Demon World, just like the Heavenly Gate his Xiān Gōng Sect guarded for millennia. To put it simply, it was a place where the world met its limit.
Legend said there were four such places where the Heavenly Dao came in direct contact with their plane of existence: The Heavenly Gate in the territory of the Xiān Gōng Sect, Xiangqiu of the Demon World, the Sea of Nether in the mortal realm, and the Trial Platform in the Underworld.
Now that they were already living in the Demon World, traveling to Xiangqiu wouldn’t be difficult for Feng Qingyun and Long Yin.
Though blooming was the most urgent matter, if it was simply a matter of checking on two demon Patriarchs, there was more than enough time for that. Therefore, Feng Qingyun came back to himself and immediately said, “It’s no trouble. We’ll set out today. Let us fulfill the wish of the fox Patriarch!”
Hearing his reassuring words, Qing Luo let out a breath of relief and smiled.
“Then,” he said, “this humble one will leave it in Your Highness’s hands.”
After the fox Patriarch offered his thanks once again and took his leave, Feng Qingyun finally turned toward Bai Ruolin, who had been fidgeting the entire time.
“Speak,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
“My brother really does see everything…” Bai Ruolin replied, somewhat sullen.
“This morning, Mu Hanyang sent me a message asking me to return. The Heavenly Gate Ceremony is about to begin.”
Feng Qingyun paused. Right, the Heavenly Gate Ceremony was indeed coming soon… Then he forced his thoughts to remain on the current issue, asking: “But Ruolin… Do you want to go back?”
However, Bai Ruolin didn’t say yes or no, only replying: “The ceremony’s starting soon. I don’t think he’d dare do anything to me. And now that brother has found a way to break the blood deed…”
Reaching this point, she trailed off and cleared her throat, trying to hide the flush that was quickly rising on her cheeks. “If I stay by his side,” Bai Ruolin continued, “I can prevent things from turning too ugly.”
Her meaning was obvious: she didn’t want to go back. There was good food in the Demon Palace and plenty of wine in the Demon World, plus a bunch of playful little foxes to keep her company… Far more appealing than the Xiān Gōng Sect ever was.
But for Feng Qingyun, the spirited girl who had loved exploring the world since childhood and had no tolerance for stifling places, still pinched her nose and resigned herself to going back.
Feng Qingyun’s heart softened, and a type of warmth he couldn’t name spread within him. “Once the blood contract is broken…” he said gently but firmly. “We’ll come pick you up from the Xiān Gōng Sect ourselves.”
Bai Ruolin smiled. “Then I’ll be waiting,” she agreed. “And when you do, I hope you’ll expose Mu Hanyang in front of everyone! Let’s see what that hypocrite has to say then!”
Feng Qingyun smiled faintly, then raised his hand and drew three sword talismans out of his storage ring. “These are different from the ones I gave you before,” he started. “The earlier ones were for defending against others, but these…”
“…If Mu Hanyang truly tries to lay a hand on you, they’ll be more than enough to get you out safely.”
Bai Ruolin accepted the sword talismans with a nod of understanding. Then both she and her brother turned at once, gaze settling on the remaining third person in the room.
Long Yin gave a soft laugh under their perfectly synchronized stares. “What now? “he asked, amusement evident in his voice. “Your little daughter’s going undercover, and this Lord, what, the stepfather, am supposed to also send her off with a gift?!”
Feng Qingyun raised an eyebrow.
Isn’t that obvious?!
Bai Ruolin didn’t say a word either, just silently batting her lashes.
And sure enough, the next second, Long Yin raised a hand and carved a sharp arc of sword Qi through the air, with complete resignation. With a flick of his finger, the energy flew into Bai Ruolin’s storage ring. “Below Qi Condensation,” he said with infuriating calm, “instant death. Above that, you’ll still be able to resist ten strikes.”
Bai Ruolin grinned brightly, clearly unbothered by the demonic aura hidden in her storage ring. “Thank you, Senior!” she chirped in a happy voice. “Wishing my big brother a smooth blooming!”
Feng Qingyun’s brow twitched.
Couldn’t she just thank Long Yin?! Why the hell did she also have to wish him a smooth blooming?!
But seeing the way Long Yin’s smile practically reached the heavens as soon as he heard her words, it was clear that the little girl’s particular blessing had hit exactly the right spot.
Feng Qingyun flushed slightly at the ears and, despite himself, felt a subtle wave of relief…
…Thank God the worst of it happened in a dream.
And thank God Long Yin hadn’t seen what he had been like in that dream!!
After all, his dream-self had been far too…
Feng Qingyun cleared his throat in embarrassment, quickly smothering the memory before it could go any further. Soon enough, it was time for the three of them to part for now.
With a few days remaining before the Heavenly Gate Ceremony, Feng Qingyun and Long Yin still had to seek out the missing demon Patriarchs, then find a quiet place to bloom and resolve the blood deed.
Bai Ruolin, on the other hand, decided to remain in the Demon World for a few more days, claiming she still needed to cultivate. In fact, it was simply to avoid seeing Mu Hanyang’s infuriating face.
Feng Qingyun and Long Yin planned to depart immediately. After all, the sooner they could find sufficient information to please Qing Luo, the sooner they could return to the Demon Palace and complete the blooming and everything that followed. Before their departure, the fox Patriarch personally came to deliver a host of rare gifts as a token of his gratitude.
Long Yin, though he didn’t show it, still brooded over the matters of his missing memories and the possibility that he, too, was reborn. Before they left, he couldn’t resist going to take another look at the Tong Tianpei, and as it happened, only Feng Qingyun was in the room when the fox Patriarch arrived.
Unable to refuse, he accepted the gifts, and Qing Luo finally voiced the true reason for his visit: “About the spiritual plant clan’s Patriarch… her condition…” Qing Luo started, looking uneasy.
“If it’s truly bad… I beg Your Highness to keep it secret.”
The ancestral demon clans rested their foundation on the broad shoulders of their three Patriarchs, each of them an elder with immeasurable power. If two were suddenly lost, the shock would be devastating, so Feng Qingyun understood and nodded.
“Of course.”
Qing Luo’s expression finally eased. “Then… Thank you both again.”
“No, I should be the one thanking you. Without you, who knows how long it would have taken me to find a way to bloom,” Feng Qingyun replied sincerely.
“That’s too kind,” Qing Luo answered. “The art of illusion is our clan’s most basic innate ability, so it was nothing special on my part. If anyone should be thanked, it’s Your Highness. I’ve never met a cultivator less attached to illusions, and your heart is stronger than most I’ve ever seen, helping this humble one reach a breakthrough in cultivation. But if Your Highness still insists on thanking someone, that should be His Majesty. He entered the dream realm on your behalf, but I fear his divine consciousness might have suffered because of it, so you should take care to let him rest once you return. As for me, I only lent a bit of insignificant energy. It was nothing, really.”
Qing Luo had meant to say all that as mere pleasantries, but Feng Qingyun suddenly froze. Turning his head slowly toward the fox Patriarch, he asked in a voice slightly floating with shock: “…What did you just say Long Yin did?!”
Poor Qing Luo blinked, momentarily more bewildered than him. “The Demon Lord was worried about you, so His Majesty entered your dream to help… Didn’t you see him there?” he asked, filled with confusion and, frankly speaking, a little bit scared of Feng Qingyun’s outburst.
Of course!
Of course he did!!!
Not only had he seen him… He’d also tied him up, climbed on top of his body, and forced him to pollinate every single rose bud on his main vine!!
Feng Qingyun stood there like a statue.
Completely and utterly frozen.
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