The towering tree stretched out so vastly that it seemed to vanish into the horizon. Feng Qingyun stood in stunned silence for a long moment before finally managing to speak, his voice tight and restrained: “We’ve come on behalf of the fox Patriarch, intruding uninvited… I ask the Patriarch of the spiritual plant clan and the Dream Emperor of the spider clan to pardon the offense.”
“To have honored guests travel so far to visit us is a blessing beyond words. What need is there for pardon?” Su Yunzhou’s voice was gentle. “That little fox truly has been worrying over us all this time. Unfortunately, the boundary of Xiangqiu is sealed off from the outside. We only knew that he had once reached the edge of this place, but we were unable to reply to him, so we should be the ones to apologize. Now that you’ve come, if there’s a chance upon your return, we would be grateful if you could tell him we are safe and well so he may be at ease.”
“Of course. Rest assured, we’ll convey the message.”
Having said that, Feng Qingyun had intended to ask, since he and Long Yin had been able to come and go safely, why couldn’t the two of them leave and inform the outside world themselves, or at least notify the fox Patriarch so other plans might be made?
But as soon as he lifted his gaze and once again caught sight of that black shadow in the sky, his heart jolted, and in that instant, he understood everything.
He took a deep breath, and after a moment, could not help but ask: “If the two of you were to leave… Would the rift in the heavens immediately begin to spread?”
Su Yunzhou showed no surprise when Feng Qingyun referred to it as the rift in the heavens. On the contrary, her tone was calm, even light, as she painted a scene that resembled a vision of hell. “Yes,” she answered, “If Zhiyun and I were to leave, then in but a moment, this tiny fissure, barely the size of a palm, would ripple outward and consume the Demon World.”
Feng Qingyun had expected something like that, yet still couldn’t stop himself from drawing in a sharp breath. He instinctively turned to the spider who had been silently toiling away the entire time, weaving and mending without pause.
Legend said the Dream Emperor was once an ancient spider, sealed for tens of thousands of years in a piece of amber formed from the sap of the divine cypress tree, that is, Su Yunzhou herself. Before she had even gained sentience, the spider had climbed onto the tree, only to be trapped in sap where it remained, motionless, for millennia… Until the day Su Yunzhou awakened and took shape.
It was then that the amber was fully absorbed, and the spider within awakened. And by coincidence, or perhaps fate, both achieved enlightenment on the same day.
But having been sealed for ten thousand years, the Dream Emperor had missed countless years of cultivation. He now stood on equal footing with Su Yunzhou, stubbornly believing that she owed him a karmic debt for delaying his cultivation. And so, he pursued her across the world, relentless in his vengeance, until both their traces vanished from public view.
At the time, many speculated: perhaps they had struck a deal, or perhaps the Patriarch of the spiritual plant clan had given him some great benefit, so Mi Zhiyun finally relented and ended their fated animosity.
However, others were more cynical, scoffing that had it not been for Su Yunzhou, the spider might have indeed cultivated a human form earlier, but only to die in the ancient war like the rest. Therefore, he should be thankful to have even survived that calamity.
Misfortune bred fortune and fortune concealed misfortune…
…In that twisted irony, the two demons became karmically bound together.
And whatever the reason, they had guarded the breach in the heavens together for a thousand years.
A strange, inexpressible feeling surged through Feng Qingyun. But while he stood there in silence, Long Yin, who had been quietly observing so far, spoke up far less politely: “This collapse… You clearly discovered it long ago. Why didn’t you say so sooner?”
The Patriarch of the spiritual plant clan did not appear angered by the bluntness, perhaps knowing the temper of the Demon Lord… Or perhaps because tree spirits were by nature gentle and tolerant. “I was born from a cypress tree that grew right here, in Xiangqiu,” she said calmly. “Though this land is full of water and sunlight, it has no spiritual energy. By all rights, I should never have taken human form.”
Her words shocked Feng Qingyun once again.
Spiritual energy was fundamental for any demon to gain a human body. In all his life, he had never heard of a single one awakening in a place utterly devoid of it. But Su Yunzhou quickly explained further: “What the two of you see as the heavenly pillar over there was once the leg of Xuanwu, one of the Four Divine Beasts of the ancient world. After its death, someone transformed its four limbs into pillars to support the heavens…
…When that leg began to crumble, I was just a tree, not yet shaped.
Strictly speaking, I should never have awakened. But I absorbed the last threads of life force left within the pillar. And so, by consuming what remained of Xuanwu’s limb, I became what I am today.” Reaching that point, she paused, then sighed before continuing: “It’s why I feel… Tied to this place. I share a sliver of fate with the pillar itself.”
“Yet the environment of Xiangqiu is too unique, so that link is faint and fragile. By the time I sensed the pillar’s final collapse and rushed here… It was already too late. I only managed to go back and leave Zhiyun a brief message at the boundary, but by the time I returned, the rift in the sky had already begun to spread.”
“So I had no choice but to cover it with my own body. But even as the one the world calls the Patriarch of the entire spiritual plant clan, my strength alone could only hold it for a moment… Thankfully, at the last moment, Zhiyun arrived, and his silk held the breach at bay.
And so… It has been a thousand years.”
Silence fell once more.
Feng Qingyun felt a quiet ache in his chest, something hollow and difficult to name. Even after a millennium of ceaseless labor and two demons strong enough to compete for the title of Demon Emperor completely exhausting themselves, the black void above had not shrunk at all.
In fact… It had visibly grown.
Born of Xuanwu’s limb… And with all Four Ancient Beasts dead in that ancient war… What exactly had happened back then?!
“You must know,” Feng Qingyun asked quietly. “What truly took place during the ancient war?”
Su Yunzhou hesitated, then replied: “I don’t know much. Only fragments. From what I understand… It all began because someone sought to seize something.”
That matched the hints they’d seen in the ruins when they first came in contact with that brief illusion of Xuanwu’s death. Feng Qingyun’s heart quickened, asking: “Seize what?”
“I don’t know,” Su Yunzhou said with a quiet sigh. “You must know, as a sword cultivator, that demons are not born with memory. Before we awaken, we are completely blank. But perhaps because of Xuanwu’s influence… I retained some scattered echoes of the past. However, they are incomplete.”
“Maybe it’s because of that,” she added, “that I was lucky enough to survive.”
Everyone present understood exactly what she meant by survive. In that war, nearly every cultivator above the Foundation Building stage perished, shattering the entire cultivation world. To this day, the mortal realm, the Demon World, and even the Underworld still bear the scars, with entire cultivation techniques lost and legacies severed.
To survive such destruction, perhaps Su Yunzhou truly was lucky.
Feng Qingyun sighed softly. Seeing that the Patriarch could not give them much more, he was about to shift the topic back to their original purpose. But just then, Su Yunzhou seemed to recall something. After a moment’s thought, she hesitated, then said: “Though I remember little, there is one line… One voice… That I can never forget.”
Feng Qingyun straightened immediately. “What line?” he asked.
Su Yunzhou’s voice was soft as silk as she recalled: “Someone once said, in a voice as ethereal as mist…”
This little world has grown strong, so it cannot be allowed to remain. It must be eradicated, root and stem.
At those words, Feng Qingyun’s pupils contracted sharply. It was as if, all at once, he had glimpsed the edge of some vast and terrible truth.
Long Yin frowned slightly, repeating slowly: “This little world has grown strong…’”
“Yes,” Su Yunzhou said. “In my fragmented memory, someone said that. According to the old teachings, the heavens held Three Thousand Worlds, collectively known as the Saha Realm1. They believed that besides this world, there were countless others just like it…
…But since half of those teachings perished in the ancient war, and the other half faded into obscurity, almost no one believes that anymore.”
Long Yin didn’t reply, only glancing sideways at Feng Qingyun. As for Feng Qingyun, he spoke softly, asking: “What do you mean, Patriarch?”
Su Yunzhou answered, her tone just as steady and calm as before: “I believe… Perhaps those cultivators in ancient times were right. This world of ours may be nothing more than a tiny corner of the cosmos… Just one of the Three Thousand Worlds, a fleeting instant in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps during the ancient war, our realm produced something so precious it drew the attention and envy of beings from other worlds. As the saying goes, ‘one who holds jade invites misfortune.’
And thus disaster descended, our path to ascension severed, and all connection with other worlds cut off.
In that moment, this world became a sealed piece of amber. No matter how vast the universe within, once cast into the great sea, it would vanish in the blink of an eye. And we, the so-called ‘cultivators’, may well be nothing more than the largest ants stuck in a broken, forgotten world.”
Her tone remained light, almost serene, but her words, flowing like a quiet stream, struck like thunder, cruel and absolute. For a moment, all of Xiangqiu fell into a deep, oppressive silence.
Then Long Yin snorted dismissively, asking: “If you truly believe yourself nothing more than an ant, why bother patching the sky?”
“That’s because,” came a sharp, cold male voice, laced with mockery, “this so-called Heavenly Dao is already dead! If we don’t fight for the right to ascend, what then?! Sit around waiting to die?!
And would you stop using bugs trapped in amber for your metaphors?! Even bugs can drag you back down one day!”
Su Yunzhou chuckled gently. “I never said anything about a bug. Seems someone’s a little sensitive.” But then she nodded in agreement. “Still, Zhiyun is right. If there is any chance to avert the collapse, it lies in finding a new path to ascension before the sky falls.
But in our current state… It will be up to others to carry that burden.”
“We will do all we can,” Feng Qingyun agreed, though his tongue felt bitter. After a pause, he murmured: “As far as we know… The complete collapse will come in three hundred years.”
At that, Su Yunzhou showed no shock, simply answering: “Given our condition, it would be just about enough for that span. Still, we’re grateful you chose to tell us.”
Feng Qingyun’s throat caught, and after a moment of silence, he said quietly: “No… It is we, those who’ve lived in ignorant peace, who should thank you.”
Long Yin glanced at him sidelong, his expression unreadable. And Su Yunzhou, who had lived for millennia, seemed to grasp Feng Qingyun’s thoughts in a single glance. “Cultivator… Could it be that you wish to stay and take our place?”
Feng Qingyun did not reply, but his silence was answer enough.
“There’s no need for that,” Su Yunzhou said gently. “I owe a karmic debt to the Xuanwu. The Heavenly Pillar collapsed to my benefit, so holding up the sky fell on me. As for Zhiyun…”
“Hmph!” The cold, spring-clear voice rang out again. “I just want to see how long it takes for you to finally die!”
As a spiritual plant, Su Yunzhou merely giggled, clearly long accustomed to the temper of the Dream Emperor.
“And so, the two of us are enough,” she said softly. “What remains… We entrust to you.”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes burned, forcing him to lower his gaze before answering: “We will not fail you.”
“Really now, Cultivator,” Su Yunzhou chuckled before continuing: “you needn’t think of us as so pitiable. I’m just a tree, after all. Another three hundred years is no more than a dream. Besides, I’ve still got my old companion to bicker with.”
“Who’s your companion?!” Mi Zhiyun snapped at once. “Don’t flatter yourself, you old stump!”
At that, Su Yunzhou only paused, unbothered. She glanced at Feng Qingyun, noting the low spirits in his eyes, so, as if to distract him, she asked: “Are you not about to blossom?”
Her tone was light, like an elder teasing a junior about their coming-of-age.
Feng Qingyun paused, then gave a sheepish, almost embarrassed smile, but still answered honestly: “…Yes. I am. I just haven’t yet decided where.”
“Then there’s all the more reason not to linger here with us, withered old relics.”
Su Yunzhou’s voice was warm and kind, as she continued: “With your talent, you may one day touch the path to ascension without aid from any so-called method. You’re only a few centuries old… Far younger than most who’ve even dared to try. I had meant to ask more… But now I think, some truths may be best left unknown. Sometimes ignorance is the lighter burden.
After all, those who walk the cultivation path… Most believe in fate, but refuse to accept it.”
Her words landed like a needle through still water, clear and resounding.
Feng Qingyun drew a deep breath before saying, “Thank you, Senior. Still, if either of you knows anything more about the ancient war… I suspect it’s deeply tied to the truth of ascension.”
Su Yunzhou shook her head after a moment’s thought. “What I’ve told you is everything I know,” she answered. “My knowledge comes only from remnants clung to Xuanwu’s dying will. If there are any true survivors of that war… They would dwell in the Underworld.”
Down in the Yellow Springs, two transcendent beings held absolute power: one, the Mistress of the Underworld; the other, the Yama King who ruled over reincarnation.
When the Heavenly Dao perished, the authority over reincarnation fell to the Underworld. It was said that the Mistress of the Underworld had once been an ancient being who wielded power over the cycle of life and death.
When her mortal body perished during the ancient war, one of her eyes fell into the Yellow Springs and became the Yama King.
The other became the Pool of Reincarnation itself.
And since the two had once been one, they were still the arbiters of rebirth even while divided. And if the Mistress of the Underworld had once been such a being before falling in the Yellow Springs… Perhaps she still remembered.
“I once thought of traveling to the Underworld myself,” Su Yunzhou said quietly. “But time waits for no one. That journey… Must now fall to the two of you.” Before Feng Qingyun could respond with courtesy, the Patriarch of the spiritual plant clan smoothly changed the subject: “Earlier, you mentioned needing to blossom, but hadn’t chosen a place yet. What did you mean?”
Feng Qingyun hesitated a little. Then, in vague terms, he explained that due to certain… reasons, he required a space completely isolated, utterly impervious to any kind of detection.
Su Yunzhou understood at once and did not pry. Instead, she nodded and said, “If that’s the case, though I have little of true value to offer, take this. It’s the last piece of amber my body has produced.
This amber can support a small world of its own. It will block all outside interference, so I trust it will be of use to you.”
As her voice faded, a piece of crystal-clear amber floated gently down and landed before Feng Qingyun. He hadn’t expected a gift at all, merely coming to deliver news.
So, for a moment, he didn’t know what to do.
Long Yin, on the other hand, showed no hesitation, casually reaching out and receiving it on Feng Qingyun’s behalf. Just then, the Dream Emperor, who had said little the entire time, wordlessly let down a bundle wrapped in silk thread.
Long Yin raised a brow, but again accepted it without hesitation. Seeing that, Feng Qingyun’s heart rippled like a stone cast into deep water, stirring wave after wave, too chaotic to speak.
As for Long Yin, as if already expecting it… He said nothing, looking at him quietly and letting the silence stretch.
As if caught in some sudden impulse, Feng Qingyun stepped forward and pressed his palm against the trunk of Su Yunzhou’s tree. Before she could react, his spiritual power had already transformed into pure, compatible demon energy, merging with his Qi and surging into her body.
For a split second, Su Yunzhou seemed frozen in surprise, caught off guard by the sheer weight of it. By the time she came to her senses, Feng Qingyun’s face was already pale, his Qi nearly exhausted. And yet, the flow of power did not stop.
At last, she spoke, her voice tinged with worry: “Cultivator, this is unnecessary!”
But Feng Qingyun said nothing, only shaking his head and continuing to press on.
“Tsk. Demon Lord, is your wife insane?! You’re just going to let him do that?!” Compared to Su Yunzhou’s gentleness, Mi Zhiyun clearly had no such restraint, bluntly asking: “And if he’s going to send spiritual energy, can’t he at least differentiate who it’s for?! You want her getting her strength back just so she can bully me?!”
Feng Qingyun had nearly exhausted the last of his power. At his outburst, he offered a pale, sheepish smile. “My apologies…” he whispered. “But I trust that with the Lord’s nature, she would never bully you.”
“She only pretends to have a good nature!” the Dream Emperor snapped, clearly furious. “She gets it from her old man… Enough! Stop transferring your energy already! How the hell are you two supposed to make it back?!”
However, Long Yin replied with lazy indifference: “With this Lord here, no need for outsiders to worry.”
Just as Feng Qingyun’s face turned ashen, the final wisp of Qi passed from his body. In that moment, his Dantian was completely emptied, with both his spiritual and demonic energies utterly drained. He was, for all intents and purposes, no different than a mortal. When he finally pulled his trembling hand away from the tree’s trunk, Long Yin stepped forward without a word, lifted his chin, and straight up fed him a mouthful of essence.
Mi Zhiyun instantly fell silent, clearly stunned by the brazenness of their public intimacy, unable to speak for a long moment. By the time they separated, Feng Qingyun’s gaze had become slightly dazed. He lowered his eyes and subtly wiped the damp corner of his mouth.
“There’s no shortage of energy outside,” he said quietly, attempting to maintain composure. “Once we leave Xiangqiu, I’ll recover within half an hour. There’s no need to worry.” Then, more earnestly, he continued: “We who’ve reaped peace for so long without effort… Must offer our thanks to you both for holding back the end. As for finding a way to avert the collapse and reopen the path of ascension, he and I will not fail.”
“This is only a matter of fulfilling our roles,” Su Yunzhou said softly. “There’s no need to feel gratitude. Your journey ahead will be long, so take care. We will await your good news.”
“Go home and get on with the blossoming already,” Mi Zhiyun also added bluntly. “The collapse won’t happen in two days, so stop making lovey-dovey faces in front of me! You want to bloom?” he then asked, looking at Feng Qingyun. Then, turning towards Long Yin, he continued: “And you, do you want to consummate the dream I gifted? Then take it back to your Demon Palace and stop ruining my view!”
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but laugh. “Then we’ll take our leave,” he said. He might have been out of energy, but that didn’t mean he was completely helpless.
And yet, when he reached the edge of Xiangqiu and tried to take flight, the void beneath his feet faltered. With no internal energy to sustain his body, he wavered. Feng Qingyun hesitated, just about to explain the situation to Long Yin, when suddenly and without any warning, the other man bent down and scooped him up in his arms.
“?!”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes widened, staring at Long Yin in stunned silence.
Long Yin glanced down at him with a perfectly serious expression. “Heading home for you to bloom… Unless you have somewhere else in mind?” he asked, acting totally unperturbed.
Feng Qingyun’s ears flushed red. He leaned into the other’s chest and, after a pause, murmured softly: “…Home.”
He couldn’t even bring himself to say the word bloom aloud.
And once again, the memory of their journey over, and how Long Yin had all but exposed their dream in the jade palaquin, flooded back unbidden. Long Yin chuckled, low and smug, then took a step forward.
In the blink of an eye, they traversed leagues of clouds and, within ten breaths, they returned to the Demon Palace.
The journey had been short, but Feng Qingyun’s cultivation was already well into the Qi Condensation stage, meaning his energy naturally began to recover. By the time they arrived, his internal Qi had returned by nearly half.
Once inside their bedroom in the Demon Palace, he immediately squirmed free from Long Yin’s hold. Pretending not to notice the amusement lingering in the man’s eyes, he lowered his head and pulled out two pieces of letter paper. One, he imbued with his divine consciousness and sent it directly to Bai Ruolin; the other, he wrote by hand and addressed it to the fox Patriarch.
It was a long-held habit of his. Any matter of importance, he’d always conveyed it via written words, and only once that was done did he breathe a sigh of relief.
And perhaps it was the familiar surroundings… Or perhaps his mind, having weathered so much, had finally shifted. Whatever the reason, he could no longer hold back the instincts he’d suppressed for so long.
Feng Qingyun drew in a slow breath and, with all the composure he could muster, said softly: “Long Yin… The amber.”
His words were an unmistakable signal, and Long Yin immediately understood, raising a hand and producing the piece of golden amber.
Under the light, it shimmered like honeyed glass.
Feng Qingyun leaned in to examine it, but just then, Long Yin sent a trace of his demonic energy into the gem. Whether it was deliberate or not, it was hard to say.
The next moment, a burst of golden light flared from the amber, and in the blink of an eye, it swelled outward and enveloped them in a vast, empty space.
Feng Qingyun stood in stunned silence, watching the world shift around him, while Long Yin only raised a brow.
Soon enough, the Demon Palace vanished, with only endless golden amber surrounding them. And in that moment, they both realized the same thing:
That amber space could only be used once.
Feng Qingyun’s expression shifted, thinking it wasn’t just a sanctuary, but a single-use pocket realm. And in their rush to arrive, they brought absolutely nothing with them. Faced with that empty, makeshift dream chamber…
How was he supposed to bloom?!
He’d always imagined, if it ever was to happen, that he’d be dressed in ceremonial red robes, under lanterns and silk veils… But never like that! In all of his fantasies, it was never a barren golden void!
Worse still…
Whether by accident or intent, his dragon God, who had lived for tens of thousands of years, had entered the space with him.
And if anyone tried to exit, the pocket realm would collapse.
Which meant… Feng Qingyun would have to bloom under Long Yin’s gaze, an entirely different matter than simply having him drop blood on his flowers to form a second blood deed after the event was already done!
Face tightening, Feng Qingyun found he could no longer maintain even the pretense of composure.
“Why the shyness?” Long Yin asked with a smile, clearly seeing through him. “The Little Palace Master who tied this Lord up not long ago wasn’t the least bit bashful.”
“?!”
He actually said it!
So boldly, so shamelessly!
Long Yin knew all too well… If Feng Qingyun truly threw him out of that precious, one-use sanctuary, it would tear a hole in the amber realm. And if Mu Hanyang seized that opportunity and chose to go for mutual destruction… Then it was Bai Ruolin, who was still standing between them, who would be placed in mortal danger.
So Long Yin leveraged Feng Qingyun’s soft heart, and with that certainty, brazenly tore through the final veil.
Feng Qingyun’s heart thundered like a war drum. He clutched his chest, bit down on his lip, and met Long Yin’s gaze for three full seconds…
And the next moment, a surge of vines flooded the golden space in a sweeping wave. A multitude of vivid, blooming buds loomed over the man below, as if preparing to devour his flesh whole.
But Long Yin only smiled, utterly unafraid, asking: “Are you furious now? Planning to throw this Lord out?”
That overwhelming indignation instead birthed a strange, icy calm. Amid the riot of blossoms, Feng Qingyun’s jade-like features took on an otherworldly, dangerous allure. In that moment, he looked like a spirit from legends… One who lured men in with beauty, only to feast on them whole. His expression cold, he murmured: “No… I intend to kill you and bury the evidence.”
“Kill and silence this Lord, is it?” Long Yin didn’t even flinch. He lowered his head to brush against Feng Qingyun’s nose, teasing him: “They say even one day together as spouses breeds a hundred days of grace. But Little Palace Master, you rode this Lord to death and beyond, and now that you’ve had your fill, you want to discard me? Isn’t that a bit too heartless?”
Feng Qingyun’s face flushed bright red. Unable to bear it, he lashed out, his vines curling around Long Yin’s neck to shut him up.
“Can you… Can you have just one ounce of shame?!”
“Why would I need shame?” Long Yin coughed, still somehow able to laugh. “The one who tied this Lord up and demanded to be pollinated wasn’t me…”
Before he could finish, the vine at his throat constricted sharply, nearly choking off his air. Yet even gasping, he still managed to smile. “And besides,” Long Yin added hoarsely, “what if I truly do love you, my Little Palace Master? Would you still have the heart to kill me?”
The question struck like a thunderclap, and Feng Qingyun’s eyes widened in shock.
“You…”
But before he could speak, Long Yin, still tangled in vines as if it were nothing, leaned in and kissed him. “Didn’t you say earlier,” he whispered against his lips, “that you had something to tell me? Hmm?”
Feng Qingyun… Feng Qingyun never got to answer. Long Yin watched his lashes tremble, seeing the flush spread across his cheeks as if his emotions had utterly overwhelmed him.
And in the next breath, all his flowers exploded into bloom.
It was so dazzling, so utterly enchanting that even Long Yin was momentarily stunned.
Radiant, intoxicating blossoms flooded the entire amber space, with demonic energy surging in every direction. Thousands of wild roses burst into flower, their buds reaching and curling toward Long Yin’s shoulders, as if desperate to cling to him.
Lilies and lotuses bloomed in pairs, but roses bloomed in the hundreds.
For flower-type demons, the more flowers one had, the more difficult cultivation became since each petal demanded energy, and more importantly, nourishment. But once mastered, the resulting power was staggering.
That being said, none of it mattered at the moment.
The only thing that existed was the wild, frenzied bloom, and the countless exposed stamens reaching out, like soft traps laid in the open.
An offering, pure and unguarded.
In the golden space of that once-in-a-lifetime sanctuary, Long Yin stood still for a long moment. Then, slowly, he moved, reaching out and grasping one flower by the stem…
And under Feng Qingyun’s stunned gaze, he leaned down and pressed his lips to its heart, drinking.
A rush of indescribable sensation slammed into Feng Qingyun, roaring through his mind like thunder.
He could do nothing, nothing at all, but stand there in a daze, frozen, as Long Yin tilted his chin and pressed their mouths together, feeding the stolen nectar into his waiting lips.
“…Sweet,” the Demon Lord murmured.
And far away, in the Xiān Gōng Sect, Mu Hanyang, still deep in seclusion, suddenly bolted upright.
His spiritual consciousness screamed while he opened his eyes, wild with disbelief and fury.
………………
T.N: I just wanted to say that it now makes sense why the ancestral demon clans don’t really recognise Long Yin as their Demon Emperor as well. It seems that in the Demon World, one rules by strength and fear alone, and while Long Yin has both, other demons have just as legitimate a claim to the throne as he has. We already know that demons are trying to kill him and steal the throne basically every day, and that’s because while Long Yin is powerful enough, he’s still a young cub in the eyes of the Demon World. He might have been a powerful dragon God in another world, but here, he just spawned out of thin air some 200 years ago, taking the title of Emperor by force and keeping it by killing anyone who dares to challenge him. But there are obviously other demons around who are just as powerful and clearly ancient, so they have both the strength and the prestige to be the Demon Emperor… It’s just that they don’t bother to come and challenge Long Yin. The fox Patriarch is strong and old enough, but his only disadvantage is his nature itself. While younger, Long Yin is a true dragon, so no matter how hard Qing Luo cultivates, his nature as a simple fox could never compete with a mighty dragon. But Su Yunzhou and her little tsundere pet spider are both hella old and powerful, so of course, the ancestral demon clans are like: “yeah, sure, why should we bow our heads to you when our own leaders are so much stronger? Just because they’re not here right now, it doesn’t mean that you’re better than them.” Maybe Long Yin of their past lives managed to overcome that and gained the respect he deserved (although, judging by the way his own generals spoke about him while the heaven collapsed, I doubt it), but at this moment in the story, he’s still struggling to have demons accept him (sure, they listen to him, but it’s only because of fear. As long as he’s not there, they turn around and badmouth him, so there’s no real respect just yet).
- Sahā, or more formally the Sahā world (Sanskrit: sahāloka or sahālokadhātu) in Mahāyāna Buddhism, refers to the mundane world, essentially the sum of existence that is other than nirvana. It is further divided into multiple realms. ↩︎
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