After descending the mountain, the first place Feng Qingyun chose to stay was the Kingdom of Jinlin, nestled at the foot of the Xiān Gōng Sect. Though the kingdom had lost its Imperial Advisor, it looked much the same as before; if anything, it seemed even livelier and more prosperous.
As a mortal realm, most of the common people who had once endured the collapse of heaven in the previous life had not even been born yet. And the recent chaos among immortals had been quelled within just a few days by cultivators led by Feng Qingyun. To the mortals, the catastrophe seemed to have left almost no trace at all.
After the Advisor’s death, the kingdom lifted its former ban on demons and spirits. Yet curiously, from Feng Qingyun’s perspective, the city now held fewer such beings than before.
It was an unexpected kind of miracle.
Previously, strict laws and powerful suppression had failed to curb the so-called “fox calamities.” Now that those restrictions were gone, the demons had instead diminished.
Strange indeed.
That said, even with relaxed laws, demonfolk were still forbidden from entering the city in any form that revealed their true nature, so as not to frighten the common people. To that end, Feng Qingyun cast a small illusion, disguising little Beichen from a newly hatched merfolk child, into the appearance of a human child.
He didn’t impose any gendered transformation based on his own preferences. But the child was simply too beautiful, so much so that passersby instinctively took them for an adorable little girl.
Yet even more eye-catching than such a charming “little girl” was her father.
Even veiled and dressed in plain robes, walking down the street with Beichen in his arms, Feng Qingyun drew countless gazes. People turned their heads, staring at him in stunned silence. He walked on as if alone in the world, occasionally lifting his eyes to observe their surroundings together with the child.
The streets of Jinlin looked no different from what he remembered. Even the stalls were exactly as they had been not long ago. But he found nothing unusual.
And no memory, nothing at all, connected to that vanished lover of his.
A faint sense of disappointment settled in his chest, lingering… until he happened to run into an old man selling candied hawthorns. Feng Qingyun suddenly stopped, staring blankly at the skewers of crystal-clear candies gleaming atop the straw stick. A strange feeling stirred within him, and yet, he didn’t know why. In his memory, he had never bought candied hawthorns here. Nor did he recall ever eating it.
But now, looking at those bright red hawthorns coated in rose sugar glaze… something in him stirred.
Nearby, a man who had been watching him for quite some time finally gathered the courage to step forward. But just then, he saw Feng Qingyun reach into his robes, take out an entire gold ingot, and hand it to the old vendor. The man’s eyes widened in shock.
A whole ingot of gold… for candied hawthorns?
Who was this person?!
Even the old vendor was stunned, waving his hands in refusal. But under Feng Qingyun’s insistence, he eventually accepted it, half-reluctantly. When the vendor tried to hand over the entire rack of candied hawthorns, Feng Qingyun only smiled gently and said, “Thank you, elder. One skewer is enough for us.”
“…?”
The onlooker was stunned once again. He watched as the beautiful man accepted a single skewer, then lowered his head to ask the child in his arms:
“Did your Father eat this before?”
“Yes!” the “little girl” replied brightly. “He always ate what Daddy left behind!”
The man froze, watching as Feng Qingyun paused, then gave a faint, wistful smile as he walked away with the child.
“Is that so? Daddy forgot… then tell me more about Father, alright?”
The man stood there for a long time, watching until their figures disappeared completely, before finally turning away in quiet disappointment. But compared to the moonlight spilling across the earth, his gaze was no more than a drop in the ocean, never enough to make someone accustomed to vast rivers and seas stop in their tracks.
Feng Qingyun, of course, had no idea what the man had been thinking. He only knew that he wouldn’t have suddenly wanted candied hawthorns without reason. After asking Beichen, he realized it was related to that mysterious husband of his.
But eating his leftovers?
Could two people really be that close?
With that strange, budding feeling in his chest, Feng Qingyun hesitated for a moment… then leaned down and took a bite. The rose sugar coating shattered sweetly on his tongue. His eyes lit up, but before he could savor the sweetness, a sharp wave of sourness surged through.
Feng Qingyun loved sweets, but he had always hated sour things. The sudden tartness froze his expression, his mind going blank for a moment.
Why would I ever eat something this sour?!
Yet he forced himself to chew and swallow it, maintaining his composure. Unfortunately, his good manners, finishing even what he disliked, gave Beichen the wrong impression. The child watched him intently, and the moment he swallowed, they wrapped their arms around his neck and pleaded: “Daddy, I want some too!”
“It’s really sour inside,” Feng Qingyun quickly warned, but Beichen insisted. Left with no choice, he held the skewer to their lips, and the little merchild took a bite.
At first, there came delight at the sweetness. Then, just like Feng Qingyun, complete and utter shock.
Its delicate little face twisted instantly from the sourness, and Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but laugh, gently pinching their little nose, coaxing, “If it’s too sour, spit it out.”
But Beichen, remembering not to waste food, stubbornly swallowed it, then pouted pitifully: “The inside isn’t tasty. Father always bought this for Daddy… Father is bad.”
Feng Qingyun paused, lowering his gaze to the skewer.
A sweet coating with sour fruit inside…
If he hated sourness, why would he buy this?
Because once, someone had smilingly taken the skewers after he ate the sugar coating, quietly finishing the sour hawthorns for him, leaving him only the sweetness.
Feng Qingyun fell silent.
Holding Beichen, he walked on without a word. After a while, he lifted the skewer and, alone, quietly finished the remaining hawthorns. With the sugar melting, the sourness only intensified. It stung so sharply that his eyes reddened, yet he didn’t stop.
Seeing that, Beichen thought he was upset again and grew anxious, tugging at him insistently toward a fruit stall. Feng Qingyun snapped out of it and followed, and only then did the child point excitedly at a basket of fresh lychees, saying: “Buy these! Daddy likes them the most!”
Feng Qingyun froze, then quickly bought a basket.
Holding it in one arm and Beichen in the other, he watched as the child carefully peeled a lychee, juice dripping all over their hands, before offering the fruit to him.
“Daddy, eat!”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes softened in surprise. “Thank you, baby.”
He didn’t mind the uneven peeling at all and ate it without hesitation. But in his memory, this life had been nothing but wandering in search of the hearts of the Four Ancient Beasts. He had never had the chance to sit down and enjoy fruits.
So how did Beichen know he liked lychees?
As he wiped the child’s sticky hands, he asked.
“Because Father used to peel them for Daddy like this,” Beichen said confidently. “Daddy was always so happy when eating them, so you must like lychees!”
Feng Qingyun stilled. In all his memories, across both lifetimes, no one had ever peeled fruit for him. To be cherished like that should have been something joyful…
Yet an indescribable feeling rose in his chest.
He stood there for a long time before finally carrying the hungry child to a wonton stall by the roadside. Beichen, newly hatched, found everything fascinating and wanted to taste everything. So Feng Qingyun ordered a small bowl of wontons and fed them bite by bite.
“Wow! So tasty!” Beichen beamed after the first bite.
Feng Qingyun smiled, his worries easing as he watched the child. Then, almost absently, he asked:
“Did your Father eat this before?”
“No,” Beichen shook their head.
Feng Qingyun paused, then asked naturally, “Then… what does your Father like to eat?”
At that, Beichen froze. After a long moment, they answered quietly:
“…I don’t know.”
Feng Qingyun frowned slightly. “None of the things we eat… does he like any of them?”
“No,” the child said, shaking their head. “Daddy and Father always ate what Daddy liked, grapes, lychees, fruits… When Daddy was happy, Father was happy too… I don’t know what Father likes.”
Feng Qingyun sat there, surrounded by the boundless beauty of spring, looking at the bustling, joyful city. For a moment, he didn’t know what to say. He tried to piece together that person from the child’s words, and in the end, he realized…
What he had pieced together was himself.
That person’s preferences contained only one thing.
Feng Qingyun.
Everything else in the world… did not matter. That burning, overwhelming devotion crossed time and distance, settling gently into his heart, and suddenly, it left him at a complete loss.
At that moment, Feng Qingyun was like a young man newly awakened to love, clutching those unseen, unspoken memories as countless feelings bloomed within him. His heartbeat echoed in his ears, lingering and impossible to calm.
……………….
In the first spring after the war with the immortals, as flowers bloomed in abundance, the tides of spring swept across the world.
But Feng Qingyun did not bloom.
Just like in his previous life, he seemed to have lost the ability to bloom once again. Yet this time, he did not feel troubled by it. Instead, his heart was filled with boundless hope for the road ahead.
He had once believed that the journey would be paved with suffering and grief. But when he truly set foot upon it, he realized that everything the other person had left behind… was warmth and sweetness.
For an entire spring, he traveled across mountains and rivers with the little merchild, from the Kingdom of Jinlin all the way to Qingqiu Mountain in the fox territory. In front of Tong Tianpei, the broken celestial pendant beneath Qingqiu, aside from himself and the lovely little merchild in his arms, nothing else appeared in its reflection.
It should have been a fruitless journey, lonely and desolate. And yet, along the way, Feng Qingyun always felt as though someone had been quietly accompanying him, like the moonlight that remained unchanged through countless nights.
That summer, he brought Beichen to the Demon World. And the very first place he went… was the Demon Palace, where, according to what he had heard, he and his husband had once lived together for a long time.
When Yue Jinshu, who now oversaw the palace, heard of his arrival, she hurried out to greet him. Feng Qingyun held the child and gave a slight bow, greeting, “Miss Yue, pardon the disturbance.”
Little Beichen immediately copied him, putting on a serious expression and nodding solemnly. “Sister Yueyue, sorry to trouble you.”
Yue Jinshu nearly jumped in fright at their formality, mumbling, “How could it be a disturbance? When you come to the Demon Palace, it’s like coming home…no! This is your home. Please, make yourself comfortable!”
“Then I’ll accept your hospitality,” Feng Qingyun smiled at her nervousness.
Relieved, Yue Jinshu accompanied him through the palace, though she couldn’t help but cautiously observe him along the way. He carried a delicate, jade-like little merchild in his arms, and his entire being exuded a gentle warmth.
He looked nothing like the decisive, ruthless Linshuang Sword Master of legend, the man who could kill ten immortals in a single day. Instead, he seemed more like a widower, returning to a place filled with memories, carrying his child.
Startled by her own thoughts, Yue Jinshu shivered and quickly lowered her gaze.
At that moment, the little merchild suddenly seemed to notice something. Tugging at Feng Qingyun’s sleeve, they pointed toward a certain direction.
“Here, here!” Beichen said excitedly. “Father and Daddy used to live here!”
Feng Qingyun froze, turning blankly toward the palace hall the child indicated. In his memory, he had indeed stayed at the Demon Palace for a time… but he had never once set foot in that particular residence.
In truth, even during his first visit, he had felt something was off.
It was said that the Demon Palace had existed since the dawn of time, like the Xiān Gōng Sect, either a grand relic left behind by some ancient being, or a structure formed naturally by the power of heaven and earth.
That, at least, would make sense.
But soon after its appearance, there arose the saying that only those who entered the Demon Palace could become rulers of the Demon World. Many demons had tried to claim it, yet all had failed. For years, the Demon World remained leaderless until a century ago, when several powerful rulers suddenly emerged, setting aside their differences to jointly occupy the palace and stabilize the realm.
The palace was then managed by them, with Yue Jinshu, known as the Ten-Thousand Saints Demon Lord, handling its daily affairs.
At first glance, the timeline seemed logical, but now, thinking back, it was riddled with inconsistencies.
Why would a palace like that appear out of nowhere in the Demon World? And why would multiple demons, without coordination, all gather there at the same time, for the same purpose?
Looking at it from a different angle, it seemed… There was a past etched in those walls, leaving countless traces.
Feng Qingyun stood there, holding the child as if spellbound, before the palace that had stood untouched since its creation.
Unable to move.
Yue Jinshu, who already adored the little merchild, cautiously offered to help look after the child. With both parent and child agreeing, she gently carried Beichen away, leaving Feng Qingyun alone before the palace doors.
At last, when silence fell completely around him, Feng Qingyun reached out and pushed the door open.
The unfamiliar palace, one he couldn’t really remember seeing before, suddenly filled his vision like a scene from a dream, stirring countless emotions within him. For a moment, his ears rang, as if he might lose consciousness, but when he came back to himself, his very first thought was…
This should have been his home.
An indescribable sense of familiarity wrapped around him instantly. Without a word, Feng Qingyun walked through every corner of the palace. In the end, he sat somewhat stiffly on the bed, so new it seemed as though no one had ever touched it.
His fingers brushed over the intricate patterns on the bedding. Then he looked toward the tea table by the window, bathed in sunlight. For a fleeting moment, he felt that there should be fruit platters there, perhaps lychees, perhaps grapes…
…perhaps both.
He could even see “himself” seated on the right…
And across from him, someone whose face he could not make out.
That person would smile, peel a lychee or grape, and feed it to him. And the “him” in this memory, like the pampered young master of the Demon Palace, would turn away with a hint of pride, saying:
“You’ve fed me a hundred already in half an hour! It’s too sweet, you eat it yourself!”
The other person would laugh softly… and truly eat it.
It was a scene so gentle, so beautiful, that Feng Qingyun wouldn’t have dared dream of it. Yet somehow, without realizing it, he lay down upon that untouched bed and fell asleep.
He dreamed.
And in that dream, the setting was this very bed. When Feng Qingyun opened his eyes within the dream, he was dazed. He lay there, not understanding why tears were streaming down his face, until someone leaned down and gently kissed his cheek, whispering something in his ear:
[…]
Feng Qingyun’s eyes widened as tears slipped silently down his face.
What are you saying…? I can’t hear you…
He reached up, clutching at the person’s neck, desperately wanting them to say more. But when he tried to speak, no coherent words came, only broken, meaningless sounds.
Had he been awake, he would have been mortified, but this was only a dream. And in that dream, he soon sank into overwhelming waves of sensation, forgetting everything else. After an unknown stretch of time, he finally regained his voice. Clinging to the person’s shoulders, he whispered through trembling sobs:
“I… I missed you…”
The person bit gently at his earlobe and murmured:
[Liar. The Little Palace Master clearly doesn’t remember me, yet you say you missed me… still so good at coaxing.]
“I’m not…” Feng Qingyun protested, eyes reddening. “I’m trying…”
The other person seemed to smile, and a kiss fell, slow and deliberate.
[Then let this Lord see… with all your effort, have you improved at all?]
That deeply familiar kiss, etched into his very soul, made Feng Qingyun forget everything. He yielded completely, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck, offering himself without resistance. Then warmth surged over him like a tide…
And he remembered nothing more.
When he woke, staring at the room identical to the one in his dream, Feng Qingyun didn’t even realize he had already awakened. He simply lay there, staring blankly. It felt like waking on a winter morning, pulled from the warmth of thick blankets into the cold air, forced to face a hollow emptiness so stark in contrast that he could not recover for a long, long time.
After a long while, Feng Qingyun finally came back to himself, recalling everything he had seen in the dream.
Then, all at once, his face flushed red.
His entire body went stiff on the bed, and for a long moment, he wished he could bury himself in the cracks of the earth. He had finally managed to dream of him… so why… why had he dreamed of…
That…?!
He didn’t know how much time had passed before Feng Qingyun suddenly covered his face. The tips of his ears, left exposed, were so red they looked as though they might start steaming. And yet, suppressing his embarrassment, he forced himself to recall the dream again and again.
He remembered seeing that person’s body… hearing that person’s voice…
But a dream was a dream precisely because it could not be fully restored in reality. When Feng Qingyun realized he couldn’t recall any clear details, he didn’t even have time to explain anything to Yue Jinshu, nor did he care about his shame. That very night, he rushed straight to Qingqiu.
Fortunately, the fox Patriarch’s newly grown ninth tail had not yet fully recovered, so he had not ascended. After hearing Feng Qingyun’s request, Qing Luo asked no questions and directly used his fox dream art to recreate the dream onto a jade slip.
However, when he handed it to Feng Qingyun and noticed his hesitant gaze, the fox Patriarch paused for a moment before smiling knowingly.
“Rest assured, Lord Feng, the caster cannot see the contents of the dream.”
Feng Qingyun’s thoughts were instantly exposed. His ears reddened, yet inwardly, he let out a quiet sigh of relief.
Thank goodness no one else could see it. After all, even though he couldn’t remember clearly, he knew very well just how… he had been in that dream.
Feng Qingyun abruptly cut off his thoughts. Suppressing his embarrassment, he thanked Qing Luo and hurried back to the Demon Palace with the jade slip, his heart racing.
The round trip was so swift that no one in the Demon Palace even noticed he had left, and Feng Qingyun himself hadn’t expected that one day, his near-ascension cultivation would be used for something like that.
Like a thief, he slipped back into the palace hall from before, flushed red, and opened the jade slip with his spiritual sense. He had thought he was fully prepared, but the moment the contents appeared before him, he froze.
In the dream, he simply couldn’t see that person’s face. And in the recreated recording… that person didn’t even have a body. Feng Qingyun’s eyes widened in shock. As he watched, his entire face flushed completely red.
H-how could this be…!
The reconstructed dream was incredibly clear. Yet now, it looked like a bizarre, sensual one-man performance. He watched “himself” lying on the bed, clothes disheveled, as if pressed down by someone invisible, an undeniably intimate, ambiguous scene.
And yet “he” seemed completely unaware, wrapping his arms around that unseen presence, cheeks flushed as he softly begged for a kiss:
“I missed you so much…”
He watched as his own tongue was drawn out by something unseen, yet he couldn’t see the other person at all! Only that vivid red tongue, teased and toyed with in the air, utterly at the mercy of an invisible presence.
And after that…
Even more uninhibited, indulgent acts unfolded before his stunned, helpless gaze!
Under the moonlight, he saw “himself” biting his hand, whimpering as his legs were slowly parted by something unseen. Even the slight indentations of invisible hands gripping his thighs were clearly visible.
Feng Qingyun’s eyes flew wide open, filled with indescribable disbelief.
…How could… how could even that be so clear?!
“Mm…!”
In the dream, “he” suddenly convulsed violently, arching his back as if trying to escape, yet in truth, it looked like he was pressing himself further into the unseen touch. Feng Qingyun was so embarrassed he could barely keep his eyes open, his fingers curling tightly into his palms.
And at that very moment, a voice suddenly came from outside the hall:
“Daddy!”
Feng Qingyun snapped the jade disc slip, his heart nearly leaping out of his throat. Only after a long moment did he turn his head, still shaken.
“…What is it?”
“Your Highness,” Yue Jinshu said as she pushed the door open, slightly apologetic, “the child says they’re hungry. I’m not sure if they can eat ordinary food yet.”
Unknowingly, she had already begun addressing him as “Your Highness,” just as Beichen said she did.
“Anything is fine…” Feng Qingyun replied, like a thief caught in the act. His heart pounded wildly, his palms damp with sweat, his voice trembling uncontrollably. “Just no spicy food. Thank you for the trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Yue Jinshu quickly responded, and then left with the curious Beichen in her arms.
The moment the main hall doors closed, Feng Qingyun jerked his gaze away as if electrocuted. His ears burned as though on fire, and he lowered his head, clenching his hands tightly.
How could he… how could he have such dreams, when he already had a child, and his deceased lover was still nowhere to be found?!
He covered his flushed face, taking a long time to steady himself. Only after fully preparing himself mentally did he bite his lip and open the jade slip again.
Well, since he couldn’t see anything… then he could only rely on the sound.
Thinking this, Feng Qingyun forced himself to ignore the overwhelming visuals and focus on the audio instead. But even then, what he discovered next made him burn with shame.
Most of the sounds on the jade slip… were his own.
“Don’t…”
“It hurts…”
Feng Qingyun turned completely red.
Hurts what?! What was there to hurt?! How could he be this delicate?!
Suppressing his immense embarrassment, he strained to distinguish another voice amid the meaningless gasps. Fortunately, persistence paid off, and after a long while, he finally succeeded.
Amid his own trembling, tearful cries, he heard that person gently lean in with a kiss, and within the soft sounds of lips meeting, he finally caught a sentence slipping through:
“Be good… don’t cry anymore. What’s there to be ashamed of? Don’t cry… be good…”
All of his shame froze the moment he heard that voice. Feng Qingyun sat there, gripping the jade slip, and gradually understood the meaning behind those words.
There was nothing shameful about it.
Love and desire were inseparable instincts, and even if memory faded like flowing water, the love and longing between them had long since been etched into bone and blood. As the unspeakable embarrassment slowly dissolved under that gentle reassurance, Feng Qingyun finally heard something clearer, so clear it nearly made him break down in tears:
“What should I do… I miss you too… my Little Rose.”
“So… could you hurry a little, and remember me?”
The road ahead was long and endless. Yet all that searching, all that seeking, at this moment, finally found its answer.
An old love enters my dreams,
and keeps me longing through the night1.
Feng Qingyun clutched the jade slip, and just like in the dream, tears suddenly fell from his eyes.
So this is how it is.
When you begin to remember someone… the first thing you recall is their voice.
T.N: This novel is now completed on my Patreon, at chapter 88! There are still 12 extras that I will translate in the following weeks, but for now, let us celebrate 😀
- Part of Du Fu’s poem, “Dreaming of Li Bai”, from the Tang Dynasty. Original:
死别已吞声，生别常恻恻。
江南瘴疠地，逐客无消息。
故人入我梦，明我长相忆。
恐非平生魂，路远不可测。
魂来枫林青，魂返关塞黑。
君今在罗网，何以有羽翼？
落月满屋梁，犹疑照颜色。
水深波浪阔，无使蛟龙得。
Very loose, literal translation:
“In death, farewell is swallowed into silence;
In life, parting cuts the heart again and again.
Banished to the deadly lands of Jiangnan,
You send no word, no trace of where you’ve been.
But you come into my dreams, old friend,
Letting me know how deeply I still remember.
Yet I fear this is no soul from waking life;
The road is long, beyond all reckoning.
Your spirit comes through green maple woods,
And leaves through passes swallowed in the night.
Now you are caught within the net of fate,
How could you still have wings to fly?
The setting moon spills across my roof beams,
As if still lighting your familiar face.
But the waters run deep, the waves stretch wide,
Take care… let you not fall into the jaws of the dragon.”
While the poem is addressed to an “old friend”, and the specific part, 故人入我梦，明我长相忆, that’s present in this novel, conveys the poet’s long-cherished longing for his friend Li Bai, whose phantom suddenly appears in his dream, expressing the poet’s joy and relief at seeing his old friend again, you have to admit that it’s awfully romantic and it doesn’t sound like a letter to a departed “friend” at all. Therefore, I chose to translate it as “An old love enters my dreams, and keeps me longing through the night,” in our novel, and not use the original “old friend.” ↩︎
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