Long Yin felt as though everything were a dream. Bewitched, he lost all sense of direction. After a long moment, he actually murmured, almost like sleep-talking, “…Then I’ll trouble you, Senior, to feed me personally.”
But Feng Qingyun didn’t answer. Instead, he simply lowered his head and kissed him, drawing him to the brink, only to suddenly straighten up. “It’s already autumn now. My flowering season has passed. To meet you in the season of falling blossoms… is quite the coincidence.”
“The first jar of nectar wine next spring, I’ll be sure to save it for you.”
With that, he actually tried to get up.
Long Yin froze for a second before realizing he’d been tricked.
Having been teased for nothing, there was no way he would let Feng Qingyun leave just like that. Wrapping an arm around his waist, he pulled him back into his arms, unwilling to let go. “Senior, you’re toying with me!”
Feng Qingyun smiled, turning his face aside to dodge the kiss. “How am I toying with you? Didn’t I say I’d save the new brew next spring for you?”
“I don’t want to wait until next spring…” Long Yin tightened his hold around his waist, refusing to let him go. “I want it now. If you can’t brew it, then you’re not going anywhere.”
“But even if you stripped me bare right now…” the beauty raised his hands helplessly, smiling as he spoke softly, “I really couldn’t produce any nectar.”
That was blatant teasing.
Long Yin froze, his mind exploding with a loud boom. After that, he could no longer restrain himself. Amid Feng Qingyun’s undisguised smile, he grabbed his legs and lifted him straight into his arms.
This residence in Fengdu was actually the same place they had stayed before, only Long Yin no longer remembered it. There were two bedrooms in the courtyard, but one had already been taken by the little merchild, who was sleeping soundly inside.
So the two of them didn’t dare make too much noise outside, afraid of waking the child.
But Feng Qingyun’s resistance clearly wasn’t serious. By the time he was carried into the bedroom, despite being on the brink of ascending, he somehow failed to break free from Long Yin’s arms. In the back-and-forth struggle, he half-yielded, half-resisted, and was eventually pressed down onto the bed.
It was clearly the sort of trick a beauty used to lure someone onto the bed. Unfortunately, the newly formed young Heavenly Dao had no experience whatsoever and fell right into it, immediately pressing down over him.
Feng Qingyun held his shoulders, deliberately turning his face away so he couldn’t kiss him, laughing breathlessly. “Why the rush…”
The more he refused, the more Long Yin wanted it. Gripping his chin, he insisted on kissing him, while his other hand impatiently tugged at Feng Qingyun’s belt, as if he wanted to tear it off in one go. Despite that wolfish posture, he still managed to look aggrieved, as though wronged, mumbling, “Senior, you tricked me…”
Even in his dreams, Feng Qingyun had never expected to see this side of Long Yin, so he laughed so hard his face almost stiffened. The hand that had been pressing against the other’s shoulder without much force unconsciously slid upward, hooking around his neck.
“How did I trick you…” He still refused to admit it. “Since when do roses bloom in autumn? Hmm?”
Long Yin didn’t answer, only stubbornly accusing him of deception and demanding compensation. “I don’t believe it. With your cultivation beyond the Golden Core stage, what’s so difficult about making a flower bloom out of season?”
Feng Qingyun didn’t reply, only smiled and turned his face aside, but failed to dodge, and was promptly held by the back of his head and kissed thoroughly. Yet Long Yin didn’t press further. Instead, in the midst of that intimacy, he suddenly changed the subject. “Why did you tell Beichen to call me ‘brother’ earlier?”
Feng Qingyun lowered his gaze, smiling without answering, as Long Yin buried his face in the crook of his neck, asking, “Did you want me to call you ‘Daddy’ as well?”
Feng Qingyun shuddered all over at that, his legs curling instinctively as he grabbed Long Yin’s hair to push him away. “Don’t say nonsense…”
“Then what should this Lord call you?” The young Heavenly Dao, aroused to the core, pinned his legs in place, not letting him move. “Qingyun?”
His voice was slightly hoarse with desire. For a fleeting moment, it sounded just like the Demon Emperor he once was, and Feng Qingyun felt a sudden daze.
And in that brief lapse, Long Yin seized the opportunity and slipped his belt loose. Only then did Feng Qingyun suddenly remember something and snap back to himself. “Wait…”
Too late.
Under the moonlight, his outer robe loosened as the belt fell away. The elegant beauty lay beneath him in only his inner garments, a scene that should have been both alluring and intoxicating.
But an incongruous chain slipped out from beneath his clothing, hanging against his pale neck. Long Yin’s brow twitched. Hooking a finger around the chain, he tried to pull out whatever pendant was hidden inside, as Feng Qingyun quickly grabbed his wrist to stop him.
The air seemed to freeze, and the atmosphere of intimacy instantly peaked. Yet the more Feng Qingyun tried to hide it, the more Long Yin wanted to see. He tugged slightly at the chain while his other hand tightened around Feng Qingyun’s waist, making him gasp and lose the struggle.
The pendant hidden beneath the chain was finally pulled free.
A dragon scale.
It still carried a faint fragrance and the warmth left from being held against Feng Qingyun’s body.
Long Yin froze in place, stunned. After a long while, he asked hoarsely, “…What is this?”
Feng Qingyun’s throat bobbed. He knew that if he spoke plainly, his man might lose control, but still, he couldn’t help teasing between soft breaths: “It’s… a token.”
Long Yin had already guessed something, yet upon hearing it confirmed, it was like being struck by lightning as he stared unblinkingly at the dragon scale.
He still kept a token from his dead husband… which meant he still longed to meet him again. Then what was he?
The room fell into silence.
Feng Qingyun had dreamt of this for two years. Now that he had finally coaxed the man onto the bed, he naturally wanted to add a little flavor and enjoy himself, but seeing Long Yin frozen in place, he still felt a flicker of reluctance.
Just as he was about to speak out of faint guilt, Long Yin suddenly snapped.
With a startled cry from Feng Qingyun, the belt was torn open. His already disheveled inner garments fell apart, exposing everything. Under the moonlight, his pale skin shone like fine jade, completely stunning. But Long Yin, blinded by rage and jealousy, had no mind to appreciate it. Without restraint, his hand moved downward along that slender waist.
Feng Qingyun drew in a sharp breath, bracing himself, yet when Long Yin’s hand reached the inside of his thigh, he suddenly froze. Thinking he had forgotten what to do at the last moment, Feng Qingyun was just about to tease him when he glanced down and saw it.
At the root of his thigh was a faint, reddish rose imprint.
He froze instantly, then alarm bells rang in his mind…
Where had that mark come from?!
In the next moment, he recalled what had happened in that dream, the forced act, the jade hairpin… Feng Qingyun’s expression changed drastically.
Wasn’t that supposed to be only a dream…? How could it have manifested on his body?!
Only now did Feng Qingyun finally understand why Long Yin had gone silent. In his eyes, the person in his arms was marked from head to toe by another, like a ripened fruit, exuding irresistible fragrance.
But that fruit had blossomed under someone else’s hands.
And it had nothing to do with him.
Seeing that Long Yin remained silent for a long while, alarm bells instantly went off in Feng Qingyun’s mind. He hurriedly pressed his thighs together to cover the faint rose mark, scrambling to come up with an excuse to brush it off, only to find that, under the candlelight, the man’s already dark expression had grown several shades colder.
Feng Qingyun’s heart skipped violently. Carefully, he tried to soothe him:
“Young Master…”
But before he could finish, he was seized by the waist and slammed down onto the bed.
“!”
His eyes widened under the moonlight. The next moment, a jealous kiss came crashing down, overwhelming him so thoroughly that it left him dizzy. In his daze, he half-lidded his eyes, already bracing himself for a storm, yet unexpectedly, after a brief pause, the man’s movements turned strangely gentle.
So gentle it made him freeze for a moment, instinctively lifting his gaze to look at the person above him.
Though clearly inexperienced, the other still tried to act as if he were completely at ease. His head was lowered, silent, his handsome face cold, no telling who he was competing with. He was furious to the extreme, yet forced himself to hold it back, as if unwilling to let his ugly jealousy make Feng Qingyun despise him.
But no matter how gentle he tried to appear, the details betrayed him. His hand gripped Feng Qingyun’s thigh with stubborn force, as if he wanted to leave his own mark there, to overwrite the one that already existed.
Seeing Long Yin like that, Feng Qingyun found him unbearably endearing, and the corners of his lips lifted despite himself. As he smiled, his inner robe slipped down, exposing a stretch of pale arm.
But that smile turned out to be a mistake.
The man above him was instantly provoked, and his eyes reddened slightly… He was trying so hard, yet the person in his arms remained unmoved, even smiling!!!
Long Yin knew full well there was an insurmountable mountain in Feng Qingyun’s heart, yet he couldn’t stop himself from competing with it. Only to find himself lacking in every way, ah! Even in how he served someone, he still fell far short. A nameless anger surged up from the depths of his chest, perhaps the helplessness of being younger.
Before meeting him, Feng Qingyun had already seen bright moons and towering mountains. Within his heart stretched a frozen expanse, so no matter how much it thawed, there would always be a special place reserved for the one who could never be surpassed.
At that thought, something in Long Yin snapped, and his earlier gentleness vanished as he suddenly turned rough. Caught off guard, Feng Qingyun let out a muffled cry, his tone shifting at once. The composure he’d had before faltered, and his expression changed faintly, like he was actually starting to find it hard to endure.
“Wait…” His eyes reddened, breath uneven as he instinctively pleaded, “Young Master, be gentler…”
Long Yin’s voice was cold, but the grievance within it was unmistakable: “Isn’t this what you like?”
Feng Qingyun bit his lower lip, about to respond, when suddenly a drop of liquid hit his cheek, making him freeze. A moment later, he realized it wasn’t sweat.
It was a tear.
Startled, he looked up through the candlelight, only to see the man above him clenching his jaw, silently crying. The sight softened Feng Qingyun’s heart instantly, to the point where he almost wished he could capture the moment forever to savor later. Yet aloud, he coaxed gently: “You’re crying before I even am… what’s this for?”
Long Yin said nothing, simply continuing what he was doing, but the tears running down his face shattered any pretense of composure. Seeing he wouldn’t respond, Feng Qingyun trembled as he lifted his hands, wrapped them around his shoulders, and with a sudden push, flipped him onto the bed.
Without a word, he straddled Long Yin. His long hair cascaded down like a waterfall, spilling over both their shoulders. Still silent, he brushed his hair aside and slowly slipped off the half-loosened inner robe.
He hadn’t even done anything yet, but the previously stubborn Long Yin froze completely. There he sat, bare against him, like a fallen immortal. Cradling his face, he leaned down and kissed him.
His body was as soft as in a dream, his movements smooth with practiced ease, an irresistible weapon against someone so utterly inexperienced. But instead of being satisfied, Long Yin’s face darkened further. Realizing why Feng Qingyun was so skilled, jealousy twisted violently inside him.
“Alright, stop crying,” Feng Qingyun murmured, thinking he was merely sulking. Holding his shoulders, he rested against him, breath warm. “I didn’t even bully you. You’ve been the one bullying me, yet you’re the one crying first… how unreasonable.”
“You tricked me…” Long Yin bit down on his collarbone, as if he wanted to burrow into his bones. “Your flowers have already withered for him… yet you still coax me with talk of nectar wine…”
You’ve tricked me countless times before, Feng Qingyun thought, yet now I tease you once, and you won’t let it go?
But he didn’t dare say that aloud, afraid of provoking him further.
Instead, he leaned back slightly. As his robe slipped, revealing his body, he hooked a strand of hair between his lips, turned his head, and took out a jug of wine from his storage ring.
“It was my fault,” he coaxed gently. “When spring comes again, I’ll let you have the first brew.” Holding the wine, he continued softly, “For now… let me make it up to you with this.” The alluring flower demon pressed against him, murmuring teasingly: “Shall I feed it to you, Young Master?”
Unexpectedly, Long Yin replied coldly: “No.”
Feng Qingyun froze, but before he could react, Long Yin snatched the jug from his hand. Just as Feng Qingyun was about to speak, the man gripped his chin and tilted his head up, then poured a stream of wine into the hollow of his collarbone.
Feng Qingyun shivered at the chill. Then a suppressed voice exploded beside his ear: “Hold it properly, Senior. Spill it, and you’ll bear the consequences.”
The speaker seemed careless, but his tone brimmed with restrained jealousy. The listener, however, was already thoroughly steeped in such games. Realizing something, Feng Qingyun’s face flushed as he shut his eyes.
After pouring the wine, Long Yin tossed the jug onto the windowsill. Turning back, he saw the dragon scale at Feng Qingyun’s neck gleaming in the moonlight, and his rationality went away with it.
Grabbing his waist, he kissed him like a madman, asking, “Senior… does your dead spouse know that you’re wearing his token while begging for pleasure in someone else’s bed?”
Feng Qingyun said nothing, his half-lidded eyes lowered. The spilled wine trickled down his chest, soaking the trembling dragon scale. Taking his silence as guilt, Long Yin ran his hand over the rose mark at his thigh. A thought struck him, and he blurted out:
“Why won’t you answer, Little Rose?”
The words hit Feng Qingyun like a thunderclap. He had never expected to hear that name at this moment, and his heart leapt wildly. Startled, the wine pooled at his collar and spilled over his body.
Like spring water over jade, clear and dazzling.
At that moment, Long Yin saw the man on top of him look down, eyes shimmering with tears. That gaze felt as though it had crossed countless days and nights, falling upon him through time itself… or as if he were looking at someone else through him.
The sight only fueled Long Yin’s anger. Gripping his chin, he demanded hoarsely: “What are you looking at?”
Thank goodness… Feng Qingyun exhaled in relief. He hasn’t remembered…
If Long Yin regained his memories and realized how he’d been toyed with, retaliation would be inevitable, and Feng Qingyun wasn’t sure he could endure it.
But his relief came too soon.
Even this Long Yin, who remembered nothing, was already more than enough to overwhelm him.
So by the time he was pressed face-down onto the bed, and another splash of wine was poured over the hollow of his lower back, Feng Qingyun’s head went blank. The cool liquid made him shudder violently, and he tried to rise, but behind him came a cold, emotionless command:
“Kneel properly.”
His heart trembled. Before he could react, something far hotter than the wine descended.
“Ah!”
His whole body jolted, and in the next instant, he struggled more fiercely than ever before. As if he had anticipated the struggle, Long Yin pressed a hand firmly against Feng Qingyun’s lower abdomen, holding him in place so he couldn’t move.
Feng Qingyun could only grit his teeth, like a fish on the chopping block, left at the mercy of another. For a moment, the room was filled with nothing but the faint, wet sounds of licking and drinking.
At that instant, Feng Qingyun felt like nothing more than a vessel to be used, an object. The thought alone made his ears burn. The psychological impact struck even harder than the physical, making him tremble so much he couldn’t utter a single word.
But just then, a sound came from outside. Soon after, a sleepy, childish voice called from beyond the door:
“Daddy…? What are you and Brother doing in there?”
“!”
Feng Qingyun bit down on his wrist, tears spilling instantly. What had started as a deliberately sought thrill of taboo suddenly surged to its peak. It was nothing like that earlier farce in front of Mu Hanyang in the illusion. After all, Mu Hanyang meant nothing to him, unworthy of the title of husband.
But now…
Feng Qingyun suddenly felt as though his husband had truly just died, their posthumous child still barely grown… and yet here he was, overcome with desire, tangled in bed with a young man hundreds of years his junior.
Shame flooded him, and he clenched his teeth, refusing to speak. Yet at that moment, a hand reached from behind, gripping his chin as Long Yin ordered:
“Senior. Answer.”
This little bastard…
Tears brimming, Feng Qingyun shut his eyes briefly. After a moment, he forced down the tremor in his voice and said hoarsely:
“Daddy’s fine… baby, go back to sleep…”
But after saying that, for reasons even he didn’t quite understand, he added:
“Daddy and Brother are just… talking about your fa… father…”
At that, Long Yin froze, then jealousy flared violently.
He still dared to bring up that dead man!?
But the little merchild didn’t doubt him. Rubbing its eyes, it gave a soft acknowledgment and obediently went back to sleep. The moment the child left, Feng Qingyun’s lashes trembled. Biting his hand, he finally broke down and cried.
Unlike the Long Yin who had all his memories, skilled, patient, able to torment him to the point of collapse… this Long Yin had none of that. He lacked patience. He didn’t understand gradual progression, didn’t know how to hold someone just out of reach until they broke, sobbing and begging.
The jealousy of youth was blunt and unrestrained.
Feng Qingyun, having brought this upon himself, soon found he couldn’t even speak, truly experiencing what it meant to bury oneself in one’s own dug hole. In the end, unable to endure any longer, his mind growing hazy, he instinctively pleaded as he once had before, hoping to soften the other’s heart: “I really can’t… little lover… please…”
Unexpectedly, this only fueled Long Yin’s anger further. Gripping his chin, he snapped:
“If I take a wife, it will be openly and properly! What is that dead man worth, do you think I’d stoop to being a concubine!?”
If Feng Qingyun had any clarity left, he would probably have laughed uncontrollably. But now, he felt like he’d just been dragged from water, his vision unfocused. He didn’t even fully process what Long Yin said.
Long Yin, still gripping his chin, remained angry, but after a moment, he realized Feng Qingyun truly wasn’t conscious anymore. So he lowered his head, biting lightly at the tongue that had slipped out, and after a long pause, said darkly, “Call me husband.”
Feng Qingyun lay limp in his arms. At the words, he stretched out his tongue like a cat, brushing it against Long Yin’s lips, and murmured softly, coaxingly:
“Husband…”
Seeing him so obedient, the anger in Long Yin’s chest eased somewhat, but not entirely. His expression darkened again as he pressed a hand to Feng Qingyun’s lower abdomen, voice low: “Since you’ve already borne him a child… and that dead man and I are both your husbands. How can you favor one over the other?”
It took Feng Qingyun a moment to understand. His pupils shrank suddenly, as he had only said that before to tease him; how could he possibly…
Yet seeing his shifting expression, Long Yin assumed reluctance. His face fell as he gripped his waist again, on the verge of losing control:
“Senior… you’re unwilling?”
Feng Qingyun could only choke out, near tears, “I am… of course I am… But it’s not my blooming season,” he said, grasping for excuses. “It’s… not suitable for bearing fruit…”
“Then we’ll do it more times,” Long Yin replied bluntly. “With enough effort, one time will succeed.” As he spoke, he took Feng Qingyun’s hand and pressed it to his own lower abdomen, ordering, “Count for me.”
Feng Qingyun had never expected such an answer. Startled, he tried to pull away, but one sentence from behind him crushed any thought of escape:
“Do you want the child to hear?”
“!”
Feng Qingyun’s composure was finally shattered completely. Tears brimming, he turned and glared at him, but Long Yin only felt a twisted satisfaction. At last, he was being looked at properly.
“Then…” he murmured, kissing his cheek, “start counting.”
Feng Qingyun shut his eyes, forcing the words out through clenched teeth.
“…One.”
Inside, he cursed him thoroughly, but Long Yin paid it no mind, almost seeming pleased.
…………………..
In the end, despite the entire night’s chaos, Feng Qingyun didn’t conceive anything, though he was thoroughly exhausted. By the time he woke the next morning, his complexion was pale and drained.
…Too embarrassing.
He had meant to tease, but instead ended up reduced to that state by someone barely two days into taking human form. Feng Qingyun nearly ground his teeth to dust over it.
As for Long Yin, after his madness the night before, he had sobered up by morning… and immediately lost his nerve.
The same man who had boldly declared he would be a proper husband and not a concubine now looked like he’d gladly accept having no status at all, so long as he wasn’t abandoned.
An awkward silence filled the room.
Feng Qingyun dressed calmly, piece by piece, even putting the dragon scale back around his neck right in front of him. Long Yin was clearly displeased, but didn’t dare say a word.
Only after Feng Qingyun finished did he cautiously speak:
“Senior…”
Feng Qingyun glanced at him meaningfully. Long Yin instantly fell silent, looking at him pitifully, not daring to say more.
Feng Qingyun’s anger had long since faded, but seeing the former Demon Emperor like this was too rare. Inside, he was already laughing, though his face remained cold.
Just then, a streak of light flew into the room and stopped before him.
Feng Qingyun paused, looked down, and saw a letter from Bai Ruolin back in the Xiān Gōng Sect. He had barely read a few lines before his brows furrowed. This time, he truly didn’t have the leisure to deal with his new lover.
“Wait here,” he said curtly, before leaving with the letter.
The room was left with only Long Yin… as some cheap plaything coaxed into bed, only to be discarded once found lacking, he sat there in a daze.
After a long moment, regret flooded his heart.
He dislikes me now. I had no right to be jealous… or at least, not to show it like that.
The heavy weight of that realization wrapped around him, so much so that he didn’t immediately notice the faint glow emanating from the mirror in the room.
Only when a sound came from behind did he turn.
And froze.
Another figure, identical to Feng Qingyun, but dressed in a black sword robe, stepped slowly out of the mirror.
…A heart demon?
Long Yin’s brows knit tightly.
Feng Qingyun… had a heart demon?
Why?!
The heart-demon didn’t even bother hiding what it was. It walked right up to him and, with a casual lift of its brow, spoke first:
“So? Surprised to see me, Young Master?”
Long Yin watched it warily, saying nothing.
“Where’s your precious Senior?” the heart-demon continued, smiling as it leisurely looked around. “Just slept with you and already doesn’t want you anymore? Don’t tell me you look decent enough, but your skills in bed fall short… got abandoned right after the fun?”
Long Yin’s eyes widened. He clearly hadn’t expected this to be Feng Qingyun’s heart-demon, but faced with the provocation, he instinctively stiffened and retorted, “…No. Senior just went to read a letter. He said before that he liked me. With his character, he wouldn’t toy with me and throw me away.”
“He said he likes you?” The heart-demon raised a brow as if hearing the funniest joke in the world. “You didn’t actually believe that, did you? If he truly liked you, then why would I still exist?”
Long Yin frowned, confusion flickering in his gaze.
“Poor thing. Since he won’t tell you, I’ll let you in on a little secret…” The heart-demon pointed at itself with a smile. “I was born because of his dead husband.”
That identical face curved into a stunning smile, beautiful, yet it made Long Yin stiffen, a sharp hostility rising in his chest.
“Why glare at me? Want to eat me alive?” the heart-demon teased. “I’m just telling the truth. Can’t handle it?”
“Let me give you some advice, your dear Senior is deeply, hopelessly in love with that dead man. What’s the point of you struggling and fighting for him?”
At that, Long Yin’s jaw tightened. The heart-demon, amused, stepped closer and lifted his chin. “The fact that I exist proves it. He’d rather wait for that man’s reincarnation than start anything new. As for you…”
A cool hand patted his cheek, carrying a fragrance eerily similar to Feng Qingyun’s, only richer… and more dangerous.
“…you’re just a substitute he picked up to play with.”
Silence fell over the room.
Seeing Long Yin lower his eyes without speaking, the heart-demon briefly wondered if it had gone too far. If the original returned and found out, it might get chased down again. But just as it was considering how to smooth things over, Long Yin closed his eyes, then opened them again, fixing it with a steady gaze.
“…Even if I’m just a substitute, it doesn’t matter.”
“I’ll stay by his side. If one year isn’t enough, then ten. If ten isn’t enough, then a hundred…”
“I’m not that short-lived dead husband of his. I have an entire lifetime to accompany him. One day, I’ll make you, the heart-demon born for that short-lived man, disappear from this world completely.”
The words rang like thunder, and the heart-demon froze. A faint trace of guilt unexpectedly rose within it. In that instant, it understood why the original couldn’t bear to hurt him.
Even without his memories, he still spoke of loving him over and over. How could anyone bear to wound someone like that, truly?
Coming back to itself, the heart-demon smiled again. “Young Master, I was only joking. No need to take it so seriously. Calling someone’s husband ‘short-lived’… if I weren’t in a good mood, I’d have slapped you.”
Long Yin was just about to retort when the heart-demon suddenly lifted his chin again, abruptly changing the subject:
“By the way… do you like me, or the original?”
Long Yin froze in shock, then immediately recoiled as if defending his chastity. “You’re just a heart-demon! How could you compare to Senior?!”
“Ouch, that hurts,” the heart-demon said with a raised brow. “Yes, I was born because of my dear husband… but fundamentally, I’m still part of the man you love. What, just because I was born for someone else, you don’t like me?”
“They say if you love someone, you love everything about them. If you don’t like me, then you don’t accept the darker parts of him. Can that really be called love?”
Long Yin was struck speechless. The certainty he had just moments ago faltered into a blank pause. “I…”
Seeing him genuinely shaken by its nonsense, the heart-demon laughed inwardly.
No wonder Feng Qingyun enjoyed teasing him. Who would’ve thought the once-mighty Demon Emperor Long Yin had such an innocent phase? It would be perfect to record this and show it to him once he regains his memories.
Unlike Long Yin, who became unconsciously insecure the moment he faced Feng Qingyun, Feng Qingyun, whether his true self, his divided souls, or even this heart-demon, carried absolute confidence when facing Long Yin.
The kind of confidence born from being utterly, unquestionably cherished.
“Relax, I was teasing you,” the heart-demon said, patting his cheek with a domineering tone. “Whether it’s me or the original, we’re all the same person. Even if you don’t like me, you don’t get a choice.”
The words felt strangely familiar. Long Yin paused, as if a fragment of memory flickered through his mind, but the heart-demon offered no explanation. It only smiled and then began to dissipate from the feet up.
As starlike motes scattered, Long Yin snapped back to himself, staring in shock. The heart-demon, however, seemed completely unbothered by its fading. Just before vanishing entirely, it added meaningfully:
“You look quite pleasing to me, so I’ll tell you one more secret. The thoughts you hear… are only what your dear Senior wants you to hear.”
Meeting Long Yin’s stunned gaze, it let out an undisguised laugh.
“Got coaxed into bed and still counting money for him…”
“Idiot.”
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