Long Yin’s words were squeezed out from between his teeth, each one cold enough to frost over. Feng Qingyun’s heart pounded wildly in his chest, so he instantly straightened his attitude, rushing to coax him in a low, placating tone: “You’re… the only one for me…”
His man, who would even get jealous over himself, was an unreasonable, dangerous sort of lover. Afraid he’d truly lose his temper, Feng Qingyun all but whispered his plea, breath trembling: “Be gentle… why compare yourself to him? In my heart, you two were never the same…” He then twisted in Long Yin’s grasp with effort, trembling arms hooking around the man’s shoulders. And when he tipped his head up to kiss him, Feng Qingyun’s fingertips pressed so hard they’d gone pale, as if he wanted to pour every bit of skill he’d ever learned into that kiss alone.
After a long, thorough kiss, the man teetering on the edge of madness finally steadied. Feng Qingyun was beginning to relax when, of all moments, Mu Hanyang, apparently having braced himself, suddenly spoke from outside:
“I’m sorry, Miss Yu… I… I’ve fallen in love with my younger brother.”
Feng Qingyun froze, shutting his eyes hard, as two words echoed in his mind.
It’s over.
In an instant, his mood plummeted, realizing that everything he’d just worked for had gone to waste. Knowing Mu Hanyang, he was only getting started. And sure enough, the performance continued, as Mu Hanyang let out a bitter laugh before saying: “To tell you the truth, Miss Yu, I was blind before… always chasing after flowers in the mirror and moons on the water, never seeing the goodness right beside me.”
“You may not know him, but my brother treats everyone with an honest, guileless heart. If you’re good to him once, he’ll be ten times as good in return. When he was very young, freshly transformed, a snake bit him on the leg, and the wound immediately swelled up. Spiritual plants in their youth are delicate, you see, afraid of insects and snakes, afraid of bad weather…”
“…I truly held him like a treasure back then, afraid he’d slip through my fingers or melt on my tongue, so I sucked the poison from his leg. It was nothing, really… but I’ll never forget the way he looked up at me, cautious yet trusting. That was the first time I realized a demon could have such clear, untainted eyes.”
“Demons aren’t all the same.”
Mu Hanyang seemed convinced he’d uncovered some great truth, pouring out his sentiments with fervor.
But on the other side of the wall, Long Yin’s lips curled faintly in the darkness. Feng Qingyun caught sight of that expression and felt a chill down his spine, and, sure enough, his man’s voice came, low and unreadable: “Where exactly did he kiss you?”
“…How is that even a kiss?! It was just sucking poison from my calf,” Feng Qingyun snapped.
“Calf.” Long Yin repeated the word slowly, as though tasting it in his mouth. Then he suddenly lowered his head.
Feng Qingyun blinked in surprise until he felt warm breath first against his calf, then trailing up along his thigh, making his eyes go wide, gaze fixed helplessly on the ceiling. A moment later, it was like every blossom on his vines had been steeped in warm water, so he could only squeeze his eyes shut, thighs trembling uncontrollably, his breath hitching until he could hardly stay conscious at all.
Clutching the bedding, Feng Qingyun didn’t know whether to curse Mu Hanyang to the heavens and back or…
Thank him for the unintended instigation!
But outside, Mu Hanyang kept talking. “Later, when I went down the mountain, I was tricked by my companions. When I returned, Qingyun tended to me day and night for half a year without rest.”
“I thought then, how could there be such a good little brother? If he were a sister instead, compared to Ruolin, the line of suitors I would have to fight off would stretch down into the mortal world.”
He seemed to think that comparing Feng Qingyun to Bai Ruolin was perfectly reasonable, especially when it came to that sort of context. So without a pause, he went on: “I still remember when he was little, he loved grapes but hated peeling them or picking out the seeds. Every time I fed him grapes, I’d peel and deseed them for him. Later, he remembered this, so whenever I came back from the mortal world, the spiritual fruits he prepared for me were always peeled and seedless.”
“That’s just how he is… show him the smallest kindness, and he’ll remember it for life.”
Reaching all the way here, Mu Hanyang finally paused, but his tone turned a touch forlorn.
“But I was too confident, thinking that was a privilege only I had. I never realized that even such a pure little rose could be coaxed away by someone else.”
Hearing that term of endearment, Feng Qingyun nearly choked on his own breath. If not for the barrier, he’d have loved nothing more but to storm outside and skewer the man where he stood!
Not that it mattered anymore… at the moment, he could barely protect himself!
Weak and trapped, he could only dig his fingers into the bedding.
The jade bed Long Yin had provided was covered in silk from celestial silkworms. Feng Qingyun’s grip instantly wrinkled the expensive fabric, but he couldn’t care less. He buried his face into the quilt, biting down to keep any sound from escaping.
In the next instant, a hand caught his chin and turned his face up.
He hesitated for barely a heartbeat before obediently opening his mouth, and the man’s jealousy-laced kiss devoured him whole. Feng Qingyun couldn’t stop a muffled whimper, as even his tongue tingled under the relentless sucking. When the kiss finally broke, Feng Qingyun barely had time to catch his breath before Mu Hanyang, shaking off his own wistfulness, delivered what he clearly thought was a profound conclusion.
“Qingyun is different from other demons. But he’s too innocent… he lacks the cunning a demon should have. Yet in the end, he is a demon, so he still carries a demon’s flaws.”
“My Master, your mother, she won’t see me for two reasons. First, because I treated you poorly, forcing you to sacrifice your life to the dragon God in the illusion. Second, because she hates me for putting a blood deed on my little brother.”
“But as for you, I do feel guilty. But when it comes to Qingyun, though, I have never once felt I was in the wrong. It was for his own good… demons are not like humans. Without a blood contract, once the colorful world outside turned his head, he could be coaxed away with just a few pretty words, just like last time.”
Even with his cultivation plummeting and having endured the agony of his marrow being scraped and his tendons torn, Mu Hanyang still felt no regret over the blood deed. In fact, his only regret was not sealing a complete blood contract on Feng Qingyun sooner, thus letting him “run away” for nothing.
And he saw absolutely nothing wrong with it.
Not in the slightest.
Despite admitting he loved Feng Qingyun, he still thought there was nothing wrong with how he steered their relationship. On the contrary, his tone softened again, voice dripping with tenderness, as he continued: “There are some things I thought my instincts had already rejected, things I believed I’d forgotten. But until Qingyun left this time… I realized I had never forgotten them at all.”
Feng Qingyun’s heart lurched as a sudden, ominous dread rose within him. And sure enough, that useless bastard outside continued: “The first time Qingyun told me he liked me,” Mu Hanyang recalled with a nostalgic sigh, “was by the Spring River inside the Sect… I thought I’d forgotten, but it turns out I remember the place and every detail as if it were yesterday.”
Not good!
Feng Qingyun’s mind roared in warning. He jerked his hand up, heedless of the risk of revealing himself, and was about to call on his spiritual power. If not for the fear that drawing his sword might resonate with the ruins and break the barrier, he would have pulled it out right then. But Long Yin caught his wrist in an instant, pressing it down without room for refusal. He leaned close to his ear, his breath warm against it, voice low and magnetic as he asked: “What could there be… that this Lord must not hear, hmm?”
Feng Qingyun, inwardly cursing Mu Hanyang’s ancestors back eighteen generations as he opened his mouth to placate him, only to realize it was too late.
Mu Hanyang, lost in a floating, dreamlike fantasy, spoke as if Feng Qingyun truly stood before him, confessing: “Back then, Qingyun said… ‘Brother, I’ve liked you since the moment I first took human form.’”
“I was startled and told him it was only a misunderstanding of brotherly affection, or the admiration of a fledgling for its elder, not romantic love.”
“But he was so certain, saying it wasn’t like that at all. Whether I accepted or not, I would always be the one in his heart, and he… he would love me for a lifetime.” Reaching this point, Mu Hanyang seemed to wake from his dream, pain surging into his voice as he continued in a whisper: “But Miss Yu… that so-called lifetime of Qingyun’s was far too short.”
“He said he’d love me forever, yet now I’m left standing here alone. Demons truly are different from humans, born with an inhuman cruelty. But Miss Yu, as Ziqing once said, the so-called cultivation world we live in is just like this. Treacherous and imperfect. He may not be as perfect as you… And yet I still love him.”
Feng Qingyun: “…”
Perhaps Mu Hanyang thought himself the greatest lover the heavens had ever seen! But Feng Qingyun was already numb with despair, too drained to even care. He shut his eyes, unable to meet Long Yin’s gaze.
Because those eyes… were no longer the same.
His pupils had narrowed to slits, vertical like a predator’s, with dark red lines flaring within, an unmistakable sign of a dragon’s true nature. Feng Qingyun had never seen him like that in bed before, so now, every hair on his body stood on end, his throat tightening involuntarily.
And yet, deep down, he wasn’t entirely surprised at Long Yin’s fury.
Because only the two of them knew, no matter if it had been because of the blood deed’s influence or the fledgling’s attachment, no matter if it had been poor judgment or misplaced trust…
All the excuses in the world could not change the truth: Feng Qingyun had truly loved Mu Hanyang for an entire lifetime. And no matter when Mu Hanyang might die, he had already been Feng Qingyun’s one lifetime.
A lifetime that had ended in ashes and bitter cold.
Outside, Mu Hanyang stood in the courtyard, steeped in his own sentimental sorrow, utterly unaware. Unaware that someone else had once traded their life for a single backward glance, something Mu Hanyang possessed from the start, yet he had taken what was a pearl in his palm and mistaken it for a pebble.
……………………
Dragons, by nature, were creatures of extreme possessiveness. It was said that in ancient days, the dragon race would fight until rivers ran red over the matter of stealing a wife or husband. And now, after suppressing his instincts for two entire lifetimes, Long Yin’s nature erupted in full.
But how could he not be jealous? In fact, it was a jealousy so fierce it bordered on madness.
Feng Qingyun knew that at this point, words were useless, and explanations even more so. Lying still and letting him do as he pleased might be the only way to survive his outburst. So he drew in a breath, bit the man’s shoulder, and steeled himself mentally. But when he was truly taken, his mind was left with nothing but one bone-deep, horrified thought…
Dragon scales… how could there be dragon scales in such a place?!
Unaware of anything, Mu Hanyang continued stoking the fire from outside: “At the time, I only knew that a strange, agonizing feeling had welled up inside me. I assumed it was resistance, convinced that I could never harbor such thoughts for a man’s body. I didn’t realize that I was not nearly as virtuous as I thought myself to be. Even now, I can still remember the flush on his face, and that tingling in my heart, that pounding in my chest… just like the first time I saw you in bridal robes, sitting before me in this illusion.”
But the two “loves” of his life, the ones he believed had nothing to do with each other, were, at the very moment, behind the barrier, caught in a tempest unspeakable to outsiders.
A blush deeper than ever bloomed on his pale cheeks. The red wedding robes, being only an illusion, still clung stubbornly to Feng Qingyun’s body, but beneath them, the illusion had cut corners; there wasn’t even an undergarment. So once Feng Qingyun’s own clothes had been stripped away, it looked as though all he wore was the bridal robe… Like the heroine of some gaudy, third-rate erotic story. Shivering, bare beneath the wedding gown, offered up as a sacrifice to a God for the sake of the whole village’s hopes.
But none of it had anything to do with Mu Hanyang, who was still trapped in his self-spun dreamscape, unable to pull himself free as he mumbled on: “Fortunately, Heaven still gave me a chance. Perhaps it wanted me to find my way back… But Miss Yu, you haven’t appeared in my dreams for a long time now. Do you know something, or are you making way for him? Ever since Qingyun left, I’ve been dreaming often. At first, I dreamed countless times of the heavens collapsing, of chasing after him, and yet, when he did turn back, I only saw him throw a sheet of paper at me.”
“But on it were his last words for me, severing all ties.”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes, which had been losing all light, suddenly snapped back into focus as his whole body trembled. A chilling realization slammed into him…
Was Mu Hanyang… also back?!
As suspicion began to take shape in his mind, he immediately placed a trembling hand on the man above him, stammering, “Long… Long Yin… wait… there’s something wrong with him…” But his dragon, driven to madness by jealousy, had already lost all reason, and not a single word reached him.
Darkness swallowed Feng Qingyun’s vision, yet a moment later, he realized that he had given up too soon. Because outside, Mu Hanyang, for reasons known only to himself, spoke again with endless regret.
“I also dreamed that if the Dao ceremony hadn’t been interrupted, our life after marriage would have been pleasant. I would still often leave the mountain, but every time I returned, someone would be waiting for me. Every night we shared a bed after my return, and he would watch me cultivate without blinking.”
“I know I enjoyed the life in those dreams, enjoyed that kind of pure Dao companionship, without any filthy coupling, without any bodily intimacy between men. But when I woke, I couldn’t help but think of the way Qingyun looked at me then… was he hoping to dual cultivate with me?”
By this point, Feng Qingyun’s soul had all but left his body. His eyes were hollow as he trembled and pulled the quilt over his face, a posture of utter surrender to whatever Long Yin might do.
He even felt this was nothing more than karmic retribution.
Retribution for being blind in his past life, for stubbornly hanging himself on a crooked tree!
And now, having met the one truly meant for him, of course, that debt had to be repaid. But in the next moment, the quilt in his arms was ripped away. Feng Qingyun no longer even dared to glare. His vacant eyes met those inhuman pupils and, as expected, found within them a cold fire.
A fire named jealousy.
As humans were the lords of all living things, dragons were the sovereigns of all beasts. And as a spiritual plant, Feng Qingyun was born with an instinctive fear toward any large beast capable of threatening him. It was only by talent alone that he had been able to evade it until now, ascending nearly to the peak in one step, so that fear buried in his bloodline had seldom been roused.
And the reason Long Yin had never shown his dragon side before was that he feared Feng Qingyun would be afraid. His Little Rose could not bloom because he feared pain.
So Long Yin would never willingly let him feel anything akin to fear.
Even now, when jealousy had driven him to the edge, he still restrained himself to nothing more than a change in his pupils.
Dragon eyes alone were hardly enough to make Feng Qingyun tremble, but that faint, bone-deep unease, combined with a situation he could not escape, proved devastatingly effective. “Perhaps you should just…” Feng Qingyun, unable to endure the sensation of a dull blade pressed to his neck, let his voice soften, tinged with a subtle sob. “Just… do what you want.”
The air in the room froze.
At that moment, the truth-compelling spell he had placed on himself seemed to finally run its course. Mu Hanyang’s words faltered, then shifted into what he thought was a closing statement: “These dreams… they must have been the good life we should’ve had after marriage. Before I understood my feelings for Qingyun, I had never once imagined what it would be like to be with a man. But after those dreams… I couldn’t help but think… if I’d known sooner that dual cultivation could make him bloom… I would have endured it and helped him.”
Even now, he could speak of such matters with that same sanctimonious air, as if he were some lofty gentleman, untouched by the filth of the mortal world. If Feng Qingyun’s mind had been clear, he would have scoffed. But in that moment, he could not utter a single word, his gaze so unfocused that even pulling it back felt like a luxury he could not afford.
If he still had the presence of mind, he would have wished only for Mu Hanyang’s death!
“It’s a pity I lost him… and I lost you. Ever since Qingyun left, I haven’t dreamed of you in a long time.” Mu Hanyang’s endless chatter finally drew to an end.
“I’m sorry, Miss Yu. I have wronged you… And I have wronged him as well.”
“But Heaven has given me these dreams as a sign. Perhaps it means it’s not too late. They say I am Heaven’s favored child. If possible… please, give me your blessing, Miss Yu.” He paused, then spoke with a depth of emotion from the very bottom of his lungs: “It’s time to say goodbye… my love, whom I can never see again!”
Outside the wall, he sounded as though he truly were a gentleman of unmatched virtue. But the one who was meant to hear his eart-shattering confession bit his lip so hard it nearly broke the skin, dying a little inside, not even hearing what kind of nonsense he was spewing.
And just as Mu Hanyang’s final words fell, quite coincidentally, Feng Qingyun’s body also gave way, no longer able to hold himself up. As his consciousness frayed, his true form unfurled within the room, with brilliant roses instantly filling the space with their fragrance, so thick it could not be hidden.
Mu Hanyang, having just spoken, was about to leave when he sensed something faint from within. He turned his head, thinking it was simply the illusion progressing naturally into the part where the newlyweds rested after the wedding. A flicker of envy touched him as he gazed at the “himself” in the illusion. He lingered, murmuring almost wistfully: “…I truly envy him. I hope you’ll be happy with him, Miss Yu.”
And with that, it was as though he had finally sealed away his first love in the deepest part of his heart, convinced that this way, he would remain pure, unsullied, and worthy to reclaim his true beloved.
What Mu Hanyang did not know was that, just beyond the wall, there was no “himself” in any illusion at all. His so-called beloved had cursed him from head to toe in his heart, while outwardly, he gasped out endearing words with trembling eyelashes, meant for another man.
And the one who had sworn up and down, “if my Master won’t see me, I’ll wait here until she will!” now felt oddly lighter after saying his piece, as if he had truly received the blessing and forgiveness of his “Miss Yu,” and had thus resolved the matter of straddling two boats on a moral level.
In that instant, he no longer cared about any “Master” business, turning to leave at once.
Inside, Feng Qingyun’s arms hung loosely over the man above him, his lashes trembling with tears. And, even though it was over, his lips still murmured unconscious pleas for mercy. The bridal candles, long extinguished, flickered back to life.
The next moment, dawn broke beyond the window, and all within the illusion became aware of the fact that the ruins were subtly loosening. The wish of the one at the heart of the formation had been fulfilled, a sign that the ruins were about to open.
Mu Hanyang’s steps halted. As he stared in a daze at the newborn sunlight, a thought came unbidden to his mind: “Miss Yu… are you helping me?” But before he could dwell on it, rapid footsteps approached, followed by a familiar male voice: “Brother Hanyang!”
“Ziqing, Qi…” Mu Hanyang greeted with delight, but stopped short midway, his tone snapping into fury: “Brother Qi, what happened to your arm?!”
“Lord Mu, we’ve been searching for you everywhere! You don’t know, but earlier, we came across a young lady! I thought she was part of the illusion, so you know… but she turned out to be taken!” Qi Jiang said, bristling with indignation, before continuing: “Her man was a demonic cultivator! I merely spoke a few words to her, and that demon, without a word, hacked off my arm!”
“Just a few words, and he would do such a thing… truly, demonic cultivators are worse than pigs and dogs!” As in his past life, Mu Hanyang instantly believed him, indignation boiling over. “Where did he do this to you?!” he asked. “I’ll make him repay in blood right now!”
“Right here!” Qi Jiang ground his teeth. “After I returned and thought it over with Ziqing, we realized this place must be the formation’s core! While you were gone, we stumbled upon it, only to encounter that demon and your sister. I suspect she knew the widow here was the core all along, yet refused to tell us! She even stood by and watched as I lost my arm!” Finding someone who would take his side at last, Qi Jiang didn’t notice the way Mu Hanyang’s face darkened at his words. He only pressed on, full of grievance: “And that girl, not only did she let me be maimed, she and that dog of a demon actually went through a wedding ceremony right before our eyes!”
“It was the greatest humiliation…”
Mu Hanyang abruptly cut him off, his expression shadowed and unreadable as he asked: “…What’s the young lady’s name?”
The question was oddly phrased, and his tone even stranger. Lian Ziqing’s heart gave a jolt, as though he’d realized something, hastily glancing at Qi Jiang.
“Seemed like she was called Ah Yu,” Qi Jiang said, completely missing Lian Ziqing’s signal. As his old vice flared, he even added, “Though she had poor taste, choosing a demon, she was beautiful and seemed untouched by the ways of the world, likely still pure. If not for that demon’s strength, I would have taken her away from that sea of evil, made her my concubine, and loved her well…”
Mu Hanyang listened in silence, but when Qi Jiang’s words crossed the line, he suddenly lashed out without warning, as his palm struck Qi Jiang full across the face.
The blow was so forceful that Qi Jiang was sent sprawling to the ground, completely stunned. Clutching his cheek, he could only stare at Mu Hanyang in disbelief.
Even Lian Ziqing jumped, instinctively taking a step back, though in the small courtyard, there was nowhere to hide.
The man who had moments ago been vowing to forget his first love now turned a cold face toward Lian Ziqing, demanding, “You were together?! He just said… Did Miss Yu marry someone?! Who?!”
Swallowing hard, Lian Ziqing’s heart pounded as he answered: “She married… a demonic cultivator.”
“It’s a demon… Again…” Mu Hanyang ground the words out from between his teeth. “After they finished the wedding,” he continued, “where did they go?!”
“They… they didn’t go anywhere,” Lian Ziqing stammered after a pause, cautiously adding, “They’re… still inside… the bridal chamber.”
At that, Mu Hanyang froze for a moment, then whipped around, his face as black as ink and eyes burning with the rage of a man made a fool. And there it was, right in front of him, the room where he had spent the entire night pouring out his “feelings” through the wall.
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