“All you can do is be like this, watching me helplessly.”
The moment those words left him, Feng Qingyun instantly felt an unprecedented change beneath him. Long Yin’s clothes had originally been worn neatly and intact. It was only from Feng Qingyun’s earlier teasing that the fabric had grown slightly rumpled, the once-sealed places no longer quite so sealed, revealing hints of muscle beneath.
But now, upon those originally hot, taut muscles, something even colder and harder appeared, carrying a metallic texture. It pierced through the fabric and pressed icy cold against the root of Feng Qingyun’s thigh, twisting the already soft flesh there just slightly.
Feng Qingyun’s mind froze for three full seconds before he realized what it was.
Dragon scales.
This was not the first time he had seen Long Yin’s scales, nor even the first time he had seen them appear on Long Yin’s human body.
Those unspeakable memories surged up all at once. Feng Qingyun’s expression remained composed on the surface, yet in truth, his hair stood on end, and he nearly failed to restrain himself from leaping straight out of the other man’s arms.
What Feng Qingyun did not know was that Long Yin’s reaction was not merely caused by that openly arrogant line of provocation, but by the thought that followed it, quiet, nearly desolate, in Feng Qingyun’s heart.
[And when my flowering season comes again, I’ll only be able to return alone to the place where you once were, blooming until the room is full of fragrance, yet no longer remembering who it was all for.]
An indescribable pain instantly flooded Long Yin’s heart, like countless needles driven straight into it. There was nowhere within his chest that could escape it, the pain so sharp it nearly stole his breath.
Under Long Yin’s dark, oppressive gaze, Feng Qingyun pretended to be calm and turned his eyes away. Then he lowered his lashes lightly and, right in front of him, stripped off the final shred of clothing with utter nonchalance.
Everything was laid completely bare.
He still did not look at Long Yin. Instead, he leaned once more against the man’s shoulder, fragrance spilling beneath his hands. But this time, Long Yin could not even see it.
Because thick layers of petals were tightly covering his eyes.
It was like a rehearsal.
As the forgetting continued, his existence would gradually fade, returning him to that cold, unthinking Heavenly Dao. And once he returned to his proper place, the first thing he would lose would be the ability to “see” as a human, to perceive the world through his eyes.
That gaze which had been fixed on Feng Qingyun from beginning to end would, with the passage of time, vanish one day without warning. He would no longer be able to see that man’s face, nor his every movement. In the end, he would only be able to rely on sound, clinging to the most insignificant trace of longing. Yet even that sense of hearing would, with the years, eventually become a luxury beyond reach.
And now, reality and the future seemed to overlap in that very moment.
Feng Qingyun held his shoulder, panting softly, and mocking in his ear: “…Do you like it?”
Long Yin could not answer.
Unable to see anything, he could, of course, have used his divine consciousness to probe, but the blood deed forbade it. So he could only be like a blind, sightless cripple of a husband, empty-armed as his beautiful, gentle spouse sat on him, able only to listen to him pant and provoke at his ear.
Beyond that, there was nothing he could do. Yet the most painful torment was not the obvious one. The deepest pain was that while Feng Qingyun’s words were cold and hard, what he was thinking was:
[I have to learn to quit you.]
[I have to quit, for the tens of thousands of days to come, when I’ll have lost you.]
So who, truly, was the one suffering from unfulfilled longing?
Long Yin’s so-called great love and selflessness had, in truth, always carried a core of selfishness and arrogance. Claiming again and again that it was for Feng Qingyun’s sake, yet in the end, wasn’t he no different from Mu Hanyang, leaving Feng Qingyun so heartbroken?
Beneath the curtain of petals, Long Yin slowly closed his eyes. His bound hands clenched uselessly behind his back. And just as his heart was at its most vulnerable, Feng Qingyun suddenly rose, without warning, tearing away the flower bud pressed to his mouth. With moisture still in his voice, he asked: “If you truly align with the Heavenly Dao… is there really no other way? Must you rely only on fate?”
Love was the most illusory thing in the world. Relying on love alone, even Feng Qingyun himself could not guarantee when he might remember again.
Long Yin’s eyes were covered, his body suspended and bound for so long. Hearing those words so suddenly, his mind went blank, and the answer slipped out before he could stop it: “…There is a way.”
The moment the words left his mouth, he realized what he had said, and he immediately fell silent.
But this time, Feng Qingyun did not force a truth spell on him, nor did he activate the blood deed. He only wrapped an arm around his neck and asked softly: “What way?”
Long Yin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He realized Feng Qingyun was giving him a step down, a chance to admit fault. If he missed this step, any hope of forgiveness afterward would…
So after three seconds of silence, Long Yin finally spoke.
“Once the Dao of this world returns to its proper place, it will naturally correct the laws of this realm.”
“This rule, however, does not apply to beings from other worlds.”
Feng Qingyun froze, then abruptly lifted his head in Long Yin’s arms. “Why didn’t you say this earlier…”
But halfway through the sentence, realization struck him.
For beings from other worlds, the rule did not apply, but this world had been artificially cut off from other realms for so long! Aside from those leftover immortals hiding like rats in unknown corners, where were there any beings from other worlds left?!
Was he really supposed to bow his head to those immortals for the sake of his own selfish desire? Not to mention that most of them had already dissipated into remnants, clinging to life only through immortal artifacts.
And among them, half were originally immortals who had ascended from this very world. Those who, after receiving the gift of the Heavenly Dao’s incarnation and ascending too quickly, found the divine positions limited and turned back to sever the path of ascension for future generations.
Such immortals clearly did not qualify as “beings from other worlds.”
As for the remaining immortals… even if there were any suitable ones, would they truly agree without ulterior motives? Even if they did, what if everyone forgot that the Heavenly Dao had once incarnated, forgot that its Dao companion had been Feng Qingyun, yet that single immortal remembered? If that immortal then turned around and used it to threaten the Heavenly Dao into releasing them back to the heavenly realm, it would hardly be impossible.
No matter how one looked at it, this path was riddled with danger; a dead end.
And the option of waiting until Long Yin returned to his position, reopened the passages between worlds, and then sought witnesses from other realms was clearly unworkable as well. Thinking this far, Feng Qingyun closed his eyes in despair. But before he could fully close them, a flash of light suddenly crossed his mind. He lifted his head abruptly and said, “Wait!”
In his haste, he straightened up in Long Yin’s arms. Long Yin sensed his thoughts and paused as well, though he showed no particular surprise.
In this world, there truly was still one being, aside from the immortals, who had descended from another realm.
Feng Qingyun was just about to take the egg out of his ring when he remembered how disheveled the two of them still were. In a fluster, he withdrew the vines binding Long Yin, hastily threw his inner robe back on, and only after making himself presentable on the surface did he finally take out the merfolk egg.
He did not ask why Long Yin showed no surprise at all, because he knew perfectly well.
Hope was the most exquisite poison.
Just as Long Yin did not know when Feng Qingyun would remember again, no one knew whether this egg could even hatch, or whether it would die within the shell. It seemed to possess a trace of spiritual awareness, but only a trace. At best, it was equivalent to a small demon cub, one that didn’t even have a human form. What could one really expect of it?
Yet sometimes, hope was also the most precious thing of all, a spark more valuable than anything else.
It was precisely because he understood this that Long Yin, without any truth spell and without invoking the blood deed, had chosen to lay bare all the remaining truths.
Self-righteous “selflessness” was not selflessness at all, but a kind of arrogance-laced selfishness.
The room was still thick with floral fragrance. Sensing Feng Qingyun’s spiritual power, the egg immediately nuzzled his palm happily and affectionately, looking like a carefree infant. Seeing that, Feng Qingyun’s thoughts softened at once. He gently cupped it, releasing some power to nourish it as he lowered his head and kissed the shell.
“Baby…”
The small merfolk egg was instantly overjoyed, rubbing fiercely against his cheek. Faintly, Long Yin could even discern the barely formed thought beneath the shell.
[Daddy!]
But Feng Qingyun could not hear it. Holding the egg in his hands, he lowered his head and kissed the shell again.
“I want to ask you for something, baby.”
The egg did not quite understand a word as complex as “ask,” and so it tilted slightly. But when Feng Qingyun turned and pointed toward Long Yin, it understood what came next.
“Please remember him. If one day I truly forget him… baby, please remind me.”
“He is my Dao companion. Even if I have to cross a thousand mountains and ten thousand rivers, I still must go and find him.”
An indescribable ache surged in Long Yin’s chest. His Little Rose loved him so deeply, yet under the banner of doing what was best for him, he had locked away that wholehearted devotion.
The egg could not grasp the emotional twists between adults. It merely turned, “looked” at Long Yin, rolled over and bumped into him once, then straightened up to face Feng Qingyun, puffing itself up proudly.
[I remember! Daddy can rest assured!]
Long Yin’s Adam’s apple bobbed. At last, he spoke to Feng Qingyun: “…It says it remembers. It told you not to worry.”
At this moment, the tiny merfolk egg was like a small flame of hope in the depths of winter. For an instant, Feng Qingyun felt as though he had been walking through darkness for a long time, only to suddenly see a glimmer of light. Tears nearly fell at once.
“…Thank you, baby.”
In the end, he forced himself to hold the tears back in front of the child. Without another word, he continued releasing essence, gently warming it as he softly rubbed the shell. At that moment, all the hardness Feng Qingyun had built from anger and insecurity collapsed completely. It was as though his own shell had been pried open, revealing tender flesh within, soft beyond belief.
Only then did Long Yin, long freed from the vines, finally dare to lift a hand and wrap it around his waist, cautiously leaning in to ask for a kiss.
He had even prepared himself to be slapped across the face. But the next second, Feng Qingyun, one arm holding the child, the other around Long Yin’s shoulder, turned and kissed him.
That familiar, fragrant softness washed over him at once. Long Yin, who had been restraining himself the entire night, immediately lost all reason. Gripping Feng Qingyun’s waist, he impatiently pried open his lips and teeth, plunging straight in.
…Like a traveler parched for ten thousand days, he wished only to knead the other person into his arms.
The poor egg was promptly discarded after being used. Having just fed and let out a little burp, it turned its head, only to find that its good daddy had fallen for a beauty trap, lost all self-control, set it aside, and thrown a blanket down over its head!
The egg saw nothing at all.
Egg: “……?”
The sounds of water mingled with someone’s muffled whimpers drifted out from above the covers.
Only after a long while did those subtle sounds finally fade, followed by phrases like “I was wrong,” “I’m sorry,” “This lowly one truly knows his mistake,” interspersed with the sounds of kissing.
When the person being kissed finally could not take it anymore, he said softly, “…Will you dare do it again?”
“I won’t… I really won’t. Master Feng’s move has completely subdued me. From now on, I’ll only dare be a mount, letting my Master ride me as he pleases. How could I harbor any other thoughts?”
“Don’t take the chance to talk nonsense, who wants to ride something that looks good but is useless… You’ve reclaimed two of the Ancient Beasts’ hearts… taken back so much authority and still haven’t shown any use… Ngh! What are you doing?!”
“Does Master Feng want to try something else?”
“?!”
The egg didn’t understand much, but it still listened with great interest beneath the blanket. But just as those words ended, Long Yin’s presence suddenly vanished.
The egg froze beneath the covers.
Father was gone!
Outside the bedding, Feng Qingyun’s hair stood on end. On what seemed to be an empty bed, his heartbeat quieted unnaturally.
Unseeable. Unperceivable.
Only at that moment did he abruptly realize what it meant to be the supreme existence of this world, what it truly meant to be the Heavenly Dao.
A sense of foreboding surged up, and Feng Qingyun immediately tried to speak and activate the blood deed. He did not even know whether it would work in this state, but just as he opened his mouth, something formless abruptly stuffed itself inside.
“Mmh… mmph!”
Amid the falling snow, within the small house, fragrance and eeriness intertwined into a scene that made the blood race. Along with ragged breathing, more and more flower buds bloomed out of control, layered atop one another, faintly outlining a pale, slender figure.
There was clearly only that one figure on the bed, yet for reasons unknown, he clutched the bedding beneath him in unbearable need, tears soaking into the sheets. Between muffled sobs, it was as though some transparent, indescribable presence coiled him up from the bed, forcing him to kneel amid silent trembling.
Feng Qingyun squeezed his eyes shut. All the forgiveness born just moments earlier vanished, replaced by even greater humiliation and fury. Helpless, he grabbed at the invisible dragon horns and cursed the man bloody and viciously in his heart.
The dragon, hearing his thoughts, merely laughed softly in his ear. An invisible tongue traced his collarbone, then kissed its way up to his throat. Feng Qingyun could no longer endure it. He opened his eyes, only to see that the room was still empty.
Forced to lower his gaze, he saw his own waist rubbed red by unseen dragon scales. His entire body flushed crimson, shame so intense he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a crack in the ground.
Yet even in utter humiliation, even at his most undone, Feng Qingyun had to face a cruel, undeniable truth.
He could never truly quit Long Yin.
Then what was he supposed to do in the future?!
If the egg hatched at just the right time, all would be well, but what if it remembered nothing?! What if it only hatched thousands of years later?!
How was he supposed to endure those hollow days, blooming alone?!
Amid the vast sea of emotion, Feng Qingyun fell into a moment of confusion. Holding his translucent lover, he stared blankly at the heavy snow outside.
Then, suddenly, a voice exploded in his mind without warning.
[Don’t worry. When you bloom, this Lord will be with you.]
[Just like now.]
Feng Qingyun stiffened as if struck by lightning. The dragon, mimicking his tone, continued to murmur in his mind.
[So there’s no need to quit. This Lord will stay with you.]
“!”
It took Feng Qingyun a long moment to process what he had just heard. His mind exploded.
How could his man speak inside his head?!
No, how did he know what he was thinking?!
The truths he had once forgotten after drinking Mengpo Soup surged back like a tide. Feng Qingyun was struck dumb with shock.
Could he hear…
[Naturally. Your dragon God is omnipotent.]
The wicked dragon watched his shifting expressions with amusement, tightening the coils of his dragon body around him in smug delight. Feng Qingyun shuddered violently, his legs giving out as he collapsed forward onto him.
His mind roared, his face red as blood.
Everything just now…
He heard all of it.
Everything he had done just now, putting on a fierce front while actually being weak inside, was like a cat baring its belly while pretending to be ferocious. It talked about scratching the other party, but in truth, even its soft paw pads were fully exposed.
No… more than that…
Since when had it started…?
In the illusion realm, could he also…
[Anytime.]
The Heavenly Dao deliberately teased him inside his mind.
Tears immediately spilled from between Feng Qingyun’s lashes. He didn’t know whether it was from shame, anger, or both at once.
Beneath the covers, meanwhile, the little merfolk egg, just entrusted with a critical mission, heard Feng Qingyun’s suppressed, angry sobs and instantly went on high alert.
Did Daddy cry because Father disappeared? Was he about to forget Father?
Feng Qingyun’s gentle instructions from earlier surged back into its mind. The egg instantly mustered twelve thousand points of spirit.
Baby had to go out and tell Daddy that Father was his Dao companion!
So it huffed and puffed, wriggling around beneath the bedding for a long time, so exhausted its yolk was nearly shaken loose, before finally pushing open a small gap in the covers.
Luckily, Feng Qingyun had just fed it, and the demonic Qi was enough to support its movements. When it finally rolled out of the bedding with great difficulty, Feng Qingyun was crying in utter mortification. Upon seeing it, his tears abruptly stalled, his expression going blank for a split second.
Why was the child still here?! Why hadn’t he put it away?!
[Daddy!]
But the egg, barely even a hatchling, had no idea what the two adults had been doing. Seeing only Feng Qingyun, it became even more convinced of its guess and immediately rolled toward his arms.
Halfway there, however, it slammed into something invisible and hard. That thing was as cold and solid as metal. With a sharp clink, it nearly knocked its yolk loose.
The entire egg was stunned, frozen in place, lifting itself to “look” at the spot where there was clearly nothing, yet was unmistakably solid.
Long Yin: “……”
Annoyed at having his moment ruined by his unlucky “turtle son”, he lightly nudged the egg aside with his tail. But the instant he withdrew his tail, Long Yin’s heart skipped violently. He immediately sensed something was wrong…
And unfortunately, it was already too late.
Feng Qingyun grabbed the transparent dragon tail that was about to be stuffed back into his mouth, eyes red at the corners, and snapped:
“Stop!”
“!”
The blood deed flared into action. With the bow already drawn, Long Yin was nevertheless forced to stop in place. The air fell abruptly silent.
Feng Qingyun didn’t care what state he was in. After issuing that command, he gasped twice, yanked the bedding over himself, and once everything was covered, hurriedly pulled the dazed egg into his arms. After coaxing it for quite a while, he finally put the still slightly stunned but obedient egg back into his storage ring.
Only then did Feng Qingyun turn his head to look at the dragon, seemingly transparent, yet stiffly frozen in place.
He took several deep breaths, then raised his hand and slapped the dragon hard, grinding his teeth.
“Turn back!”
The air twisted subtly, and a familiar black-and-gold dragon appeared inside the room. It looked majestic and imposing, but in reality, it was pitifully coiled beside Feng Qingyun, leaning forward to nuzzle his cheek.
Feng Qingyun kicked him furiously.
“I said, turn back into human form!”
As soon as the words fell, the air distorted again. Moments later, a familiar figure appeared beside Feng Qingyun.
Muscles scorching hot beyond imagination pressed against his waist. Pushed to the absolute limit, they were hard as stone, burning Feng Qingyun’s face red. In his shame and anger, he nearly wanted to kick the man straight out into the courtyard and make him stand there naked all night!
But when he lifted his gaze and saw the snowstorm outside, he hesitated.
So he stood there, face cold, tangled in indecision for a long while, then suddenly remembered that the infuriating man could hear his thoughts! Feng Qingyun’s expression stiffened, and he immediately turned to glare darkly at Long Yin.
Long Yin hastily wiped the look from his face, but the smug delight of being favoured still hadn’t fully vanished.
Feng Qingyun: “……”
Long Yin: “……”
Unable to take it anymore, Feng Qingyun kicked him in the shoulder, pulled a set of clothes from his storage ring, and smashed them into his face.
“What are you smiling for?! Put your clothes on and get out!”
Under the blood deed’s effect, Long Yin immediately wiped the smile away. Taking the clothes, he was forced to stand up and, right in front of Feng Qingyun, put them on piece by piece.
Feng Qingyun narrowed his eyes, his gaze nevertheless drifting uncontrollably toward a certain place. His man was clearly pushed to the brink, yet he didn’t utter a single plea; like a mute, he obediently dressed himself.
To be fair, every detail of Long Yin’s human form had been shaped almost entirely according to Feng Qingyun’s preferences. Watching that body slowly being covered by layers of fabric was, for Feng Qingyun, an irresistibly tempting process, tempting enough that unspeakable images began surfacing in his mind.
He’d intended to rein in his thoughts, but when Long Yin’s movements suddenly stiffened, Feng Qingyun paused. Deliberately, he thought of even more explicit images.
And sure enough, Long Yin’s breathing hitched, and he nearly tied his belt backwards.
Feng Qingyun felt as though he’d discovered a new source of amusement. He gave up suppressing his thoughts altogether, simply lifting his gaze to look at Long Yin, letting his mind run free.
Only after the other man had finished changing, his movements rigid and unbearably slow, did Feng Qingyun speak coldly: “Had enough listening? If you have, then get out.”
Long Yin: “……”
The stark contrast between Feng Qingyun’s lustful inner thoughts and his outward iciness was indescribable, enough to twist even Long Yin’s expression. He could have said something, begged forgiveness, softened his tone, acted spoiled, anything that might have won Feng Qingyun’s mercy.
But in the end, he said nothing.
The dignified Heavenly Dao, after finally reaching the critical moment, had been forcibly halted. If it were any ordinary person, they’d likely have been tormented to the point of their blood vessels bursting, but Long Yin seemed to accept the punishment willingly. Without a word, he turned and walked out of the house, standing quietly in the snow.
As he left, he even remembered to close the door behind him, afraid the wind and snow might blow in and chill his Little Rose.
That tiny, subtle detail made Feng Qingyun freeze.
After sitting on the bed for a long while, he still couldn’t help but pull his inner robe tighter, rise, and walk to the window to look at the man standing in the snow.
Snow fell onto Long Yin’s shoulders. In less than the time it took an incense stick to burn, it had already buried his feet. He didn’t use any demonic Qi to ward off the cold, letting the snow settle on him.
As the heat in his body gradually cooled beneath the vast snowfall, Feng Qingyun’s anger dissipated along with it.
And just like that, in the ice and snow, he deflated like a punctured ball.
Pathetic, and soft-hearted.
He’d said he was punishing him. Said he wanted him to never forget this punishment for lifetimes to come. But those harsh words were just that, words.
That was the man who had spent two lifetimes walking his way back to him. How could he bear it? So Feng Qingyun, draped only in his inner robe and barefoot, walked out of the house.
The instant his feet touched the snow, Long Yin’s eyes twitched as he immediately looked up.
“You…”
But Feng Qingyun cut him off sharply.
“Stand there. Don’t move.”
Hearing his order, Long Yin could only stand amid the swirling snow, stunned, watching that man in thin clothing, barefoot on the snow, walk toward him step by step.
The footprints were clearly visible in the snow. Counted carefully, there were exactly nine.
Feng Qingyun released no spiritual energy to keep warm. He even deliberately reined in all his sword Qi. By the time he reached Long Yin, the tip of his nose had already reddened. Seeing him dressed so lightly, Long Yin’s gaze shifted. His whole body tingled with pain from sheer heartache.
Feng Qingyun stopped in front of him and lifted his eyes in the snow.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
Long Yin swallowed hard, his voice rough.
“…It hurts. It hurts unbearably.”
“This much pain is unbearable to you?” Feng Qingyun chuckled softly, brushing the snow from Long Yin’s hair. “Then do you know how much my heart hurt before?”
Long Yin had no answer.
Only by truly experiencing it yourself could you genuinely understand.
In the frozen world of ice and snow, Feng Qingyun carefully brushed the snow from his shoulders and said softly, “I’m actually not angry anymore. But there are some things I think still need to be said clearly, right now.”
“I know you can hear what I’m thinking. But I still want to tell you myself.” With that, he stopped, lifted his gaze, and looked at Long Yin without blinking.
“You already love me enough. What I want isn’t for you to love me more, it’s for you to turn around and look at yourself, already covered in wounds.”
“I know you’re always afraid that hope will come to nothing, so you’d rather have no hope at all. But no matter the outcome, even if that hope is vanishingly small, it’s still like a spark, barely lighting a path forward through a future without an end.”
Stripped of anxiety and fear of loss, the resilience in Feng Qingyun, the kind strong enough to move even the Heavenly Dao, finally revealed itself.
“No one can guarantee whether what lies ahead is an abyss of endless ruin, or a shore where light breaks through.”
“But before you came to stand in front of me, you had already walked more than nine steps.”
Long Yin would never forget that day, never forget the sight of that man standing in the heavy snow, looking at him with steady warmth, and saying:
“The rest of the steps, as long as there’s this single ray of light… no matter if it’s a sea of fire or a mountain of blades, I’ll walk them.”
“Until I see you again, appearing once more in my life.”
T.N: What is this?? How can Author-Sama drag us from the horny jail straight to the abyss of fire?? I’m ugly crying here :((
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