Feng Qingyun had long since grown accustomed to being worn down by Mu Hanyang. By now, he had already prepared himself for demands such as breaking off one of his branches, or perhaps something even more excessive.
After all, Long Yin was the Demon Emperor. The man was infamous for his unpredictable temper, and no request, however unreasonable, would have been surprising.
Yet despite having mentally prepared himself, when Long Yin remained silent and leisurely looked him up and down, Feng Qingyun’s scalp still prickled. He couldn’t help but warn, “…I’d advise you not to go too far.”
“So, in Little Palace Master Feng’s eyes, I’m that shameless?” Long Yin smiled.
Feng Qingyun very nearly asked, Aren’t you?! But considering he had come to ask a favor, he swallowed the words. Long Yin continued looking him over for quite some time before suddenly asking, “Would the Little Palace Master be willing to let me have a look at your flower buds in your primordial form?”
“…?!”
Feng Qingyun’s eyes flew wide. The next instant, he seemed to catch fire from head to toe. Flushed with embarrassment and anger, he snapped, “…I don’t have such a thing!”
“Oh…” Understanding dawned across Long Yin’s face, followed by a teasing smile. “So after all these decades apart, the Little Palace Master still hasn’t bloomed? Could it be…” He deliberately paused. “…that you have some hidden ailment?”
Never in his wildest dreams had Feng Qingyun imagined that the very first topic they’d discuss after he came to the Demon Palace would be whether he’d bloomed or not.
The fact that he had lived for centuries without ever blooming had always been a sore spot for him. Even Mu Hanyang had never dared bring it up lightly, yet Long Yin was openly making fun of it!
For a brief moment, Feng Qingyun was so furious that his scalp tingled. He wanted nothing more than to drive his sword straight through this shameless rogue.
“What business is it of yours whether I’ve bloomed or not?!”
“Alright, alright.” Seeing that he’d genuinely pushed him too far, Long Yin wisely backed down. “It was only a joke. There’s no need to get so angry.”
“Since there are no flowers for this Lord to admire,” he continued, “I’ll simply have to ask for something else.”
Feng Qingyun glared at him warily. He looked ready to draw his sword the moment Long Yin uttered another indecent request, but Long Yin merely raised an eyebrow.
“I only want to ask the Palace Master to grind some ink for me.” He smiled innocently. “No need to act as though you’re facing a great enemy.”
Feng Qingyun blinked, clearly not expecting the request to be… so normal. But meeting the man’s half-smiling gaze, that strange sense of incongruity he’d noticed earlier resurfaced. After a long pause, he pursed his lips and scrutinized Long Yin.
“…Don’t try anything.”
“Why would I?” Long Yin chuckled softly. As he spoke, he rose from his seat and walked over to Feng Qingyun, who remained on full alert. Turning sideways with impeccable courtesy, he gestured toward the inner hall.
“After you, Palace Master.”
The odd feeling in Feng Qingyun’s heart only deepened.
Since when did Long Yin become so easy to talk to? Has someone possessed him?
Still full of suspicion, he followed Long Yin through the magnificent yet deserted main hall and into what appeared to be a study. However, only after entering did Feng Qingyun belatedly realize it wasn’t a study.
It was Long Yin’s bedchamber.
If not for the extravagantly luxurious bed dominating the center of the room, anyone looking only at the rest of thefurnishings would have assumed it belonged to some scholarly top graduate rather than the Demon Emperor.
Bookshelves lined nearly every wall, and the room looked less like a demon’s bedroom than the sleeping quarters of a devoted intellectual. That being said, anyone who entered this room would find it nearly impossible to ignore the absurdly lavish bed in the middle.
For reasons Feng Qingyun couldn’t fathom, the bed featured four massive posts carved with coiling dragons and soaring phoenixes. Anyone seeing it for the first time might have thought it had been prepared for a wedding night. Even the bed curtains seemed to be woven from threads resembling gold silk, adorned with translucent beads made from some unknown material.
The entire bed resembled an enormous gilded cage, and at a single glance, few words came to mind: a golden house for a treasured beauty.
…Is this man planning to imprison someone here?!
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help grumbling inwardly as the thought startled even himself. But coming back to his senses, he felt he was being unnecessarily suspicious… Casually speculating about someone else’s bedroom was, after all, rather impolite.
So he quickly withdrew his gaze and followed Long Yin to a table beside the window. The Demon World’s unique sunlight streamed through the window onto the tabletop. Unhurriedly, Long Yin spread out a sheet of expensive paper before placing an inkstone and an ink stick beside Feng Qingyun’s hand.
Then, almost as though he were showing off, he asked, “What do you think, Little Palace Master? How do the Four Treasures of my study compare to those in the Xiān Gōng Sect?”
Perhaps it was only Feng Qingyun’s imagination, but for something as simple as grinding ink, Long Yin seemed… strangely eager to impress him.
Ignoring the question, Feng Qingyun lowered his head and picked up the inkstone. After dripping a few drops of water into it, he began grinding the ink while examining the inkstone itself, wondering what rare immortal treasure it could possibly be for Long Yin to boast about it so proudly. Yet after studying it for quite some time, he still hadn’t figured out what it was made of. Instead, he gradually realized something else.
They were standing far too close.
Long Yin remained beside him with his arms folded, watching him without blinking. Among cultivators, the stronger one’s cultivation, the more attention one paid to personal space, so it was almost unheard of for high-level cultivators to stand this close to one another.
Feng Qingyun stiffened unconsciously. His expression remained calm, but he forced himself to continue grinding the ink. Seeing this, Long Yin suddenly smiled and deliberately teased, “They say a beauty at one’s side lends fragrance to the ink…”
He had barely gotten halfway through the sentence when Feng Qingyun immediately looked up and shot him an annoyed glare. Long Yin wasn’t intimidated in the slightest and was about to push his luck further when his gaze inadvertently fell on Feng Qingyun’s wrist.
There, faint crimson marks lingered, as though he’d suffered some kind of injury, and Long Yin paused abruptly. His expression darkened at once as he asked, “What happened here?”
Following his gaze, Feng Qingyun’s heart skipped a beat. Those were the scars left behind from snapping off one of his branches not long ago, so he immediately lowered his sleeve to cover the marks and turned away indifferently.
“…None of your business.”
Long Yin narrowed his eyes and stared at him without blinking. Already taller than Feng Qingyun, he now looked down at him with such scrutiny that it made Feng Qingyun’s back go cold. Unable to bear the atmosphere any longer, Feng Qingyun hurriedly pushed the freshly ground ink toward him.
“It’s finished.”
Only after a long pause did Long Yin withdraw his gaze. Then, he dipped his brush into the ink and lowered his head to write something. Feng Qingyun hadn’t been paying attention to what he was writing. But when his eyes accidentally caught the large characters Long Yin had written, he froze.
Letter of Divorce.
There it was, in bold black ink across the center of the page…
Letter of Divorce.
Feng Qingyun was utterly dumbfounded.
Since when did Long Yin have a wife?!
…How have I never heard a single rumor about this?!
And for some reason, he felt that if Long Yin truly had a wife, he ought to treasure her beyond measure, so why would he suddenly be writing a divorce letter?!
A storm of thoughts instantly surged through Feng Qingyun’s mind, and he couldn’t help glancing toward the extravagant bed behind them.
Could that gorgeous bed, the one that looked like a gilded cage, have been built for his wife?
The thought sent goosebumps racing over his skin. His imagination ran wild, and he even found himself wondering how he might rescue that nonexistent “wife” if his suspicions proved true.
Fortunately, Long Yin didn’t allow the misunderstanding to continue. As though he could read Feng Qingyun’s thoughts, he spoke without even lifting his head: “Stop looking. This Lord doesn’t have a wife.”
Feng Qingyun blinked and quickly looked back at him.
“This divorce letter is one I’m writing to Mu Hanyang on your behalf.” Long Yin set down his brush and turned toward him with an enigmatic smile, looking utterly certain of victory. “You divorce him, and I’ll save his friend.”
“How about it?”
“…You…”
Although years of disappointment had already left Feng Qingyun unwilling to remain with Mu Hanyang, Long Yin’s condition still stunned him. However, no matter how oblivious he might be, by now he could tell something was seriously wrong.
So he quietly looked away, not quite daring to meet Long Yin’s eyes. Forcing himself to change the subject, he said, “…Whether we separate or not is a matter between my Senior Brother and me. There’s no need for you to concern yourself with it.”
Long Yin chuckled. Suddenly stepping closer, he stared directly into Feng Qingyun’s slightly trembling eyes as he said, “I always thought the Little Palace Master and that Mu fellow were the very picture of a devoted couple.” His lips curled into a smile. “But… judging by what you’ve said, it seems you’ve long intended to leave him?”
With nowhere left to retreat, Feng Qingyun was forced to meet his gaze, yet the moment he did, he finally realized what had been bothering him this whole time. Earlier, he’d felt something subtly strange about Long Yin but hadn’t been able to identify it. Now, at such close range, he suddenly noticed.
Why… are his eyes purple?
A cold sweat instantly broke out across Feng Qingyun’s back. His heart pounded like thunder in his ears, drowning out everything Long Yin had just said.
Has someone really… possessed him?
“Well?”
Long Yin’s voice drifted into his ear once more, soft as a devil’s whisper.
“Since you’ve already decided to leave him, why not use this opportunity to sever all ties once and for all?”
That… Was nothing like something the Long Yin he knew would have said. At that moment, Feng Qingyun became even more convinced of his earlier suspicion. He wanted to tell himself it had nothing to do with him; whether Long Yin lived or died was none of his concern… If the real Long Yin had truly perished, perhaps it was for the best. The world would have one less calamity to trouble him.
Yet when he looked into those smiling eyes, an indescribable feeling welled up inside him.
Long Yin…
The one man who had stood beneath Heaven itself. After so many years apart, that man was gone. The mighty Demon Emperor, reduced to dying at the hands of some despicable body-snatcher?!
“…It doesn’t matter.” Lowering his eyes, Feng Qingyun clenched his hands. “I intended to leave him after I returned anyway. You should write it for me. It’ll save me the trouble of wasting any more effort on him.”
Long Yin raised an eyebrow in mild surprise, seemingly impressed that Feng Qingyun had finally come to his senses. “If you’re truly parting on good terms, each to your own future…” he smiled, leaning closer to Feng Qingyun’s ear, “…then why come all the way to see me because of that Mu fellow?” His smile deepened.
“Unless you intend to rem…”
Before he could finish the word remarry, Feng Qingyun suddenly realized exactly what he was about to say. At last reaching the end of his patience, he snatched up the divorce letter and smacked it squarely across Long Yin’s face.
Feng Qingyun himself didn’t realize it, but the moment he became convinced this wasn’t the real Long Yin, only some despicable usurper, his attitude toward him had subtly changed.
Long Yin took the slap through the sheet of paper without the slightest hint of anger. Instead, he calmly smoothed the divorce letter back onto the table. Then, unexpectedly, he fell silent.
Feng Qingyun’s heart lurched. He thought the other man had realized he’d seen through the possession and was about to silence him forever, but in the end, Long Yin did nothing. He merely waited quietly for a while before suddenly asking in a meaningful tone, “You spent all that time grinding the ink… and you didn’t notice anything strange?”
Feng Qingyun froze.
Immediately trying to circulate his spiritual energy, he discovered that at some point, his Dantian had been completely bound by a dense mass of black Qi.
The ink was tampered with!
“You…!”
A four-hundred-year-old flower demon might not even have lived a fraction of the Demon Emperor’s lifespan. In all those centuries, he’d scarcely ever left the mountain. Who could have imagined that the very first time he ventured out, he’d fall victim to something like this?!
Coming back to his senses, Feng Qingyun gritted his teeth and turned to flee the hall.
But before he could take more than a step, someone seized his wrist, dragged him to the bedside, caught him by the waist, and pinned him onto the bed.
The jade ornaments hanging from the bed curtains clinked melodiously.
Only then did Feng Qingyun realize that the bed he’d spent so long scrutinizing…
…had been prepared for him.
Smiling, Long Yin hooked a finger beneath his chin and admired the fury in his eyes.
“Little Palace Master, didn’t your Senior Brother ever teach you that we demonic cultivators are all faithless villains, rotten to the core?”
Of course Mu Hanyang had said as much. In fact, he’d described them in even harsher terms, but… No matter how often Feng Qingyun insisted that he and Long Yin were irreconcilable enemies, he’d never truly believed Long Yin was that sort of person.
That was why he’d accepted the inkstick without a second thought.
Had he known Long Yin had been possessed, he would never have let his guard down so carelessly.
“…You’re not Long Yin.” Feng Qingyun gripped the bedding behind him so tightly that his knuckles whitened, staring unwaveringly at the man above him. “The real Long Yin would never resort to such filthy, despicable tricks. Who are you?!”
Long Yin paused. Clearly, he hadn’t expected Feng Qingyun to reach that conclusion. Then he burst into laughter and deliberately teased, “What? So that cowardly archenemy of yours, who was too timid to even look you in the eye, is actually some noble and honorable gentleman in your heart?”
“…”
The remark sounded strangely odd, and Feng Qingyun frowned slightly. Before he could make sense of what this so-called possessor meant, the man leaned even closer.
“He defeated you with a single sword strike before everyone outside Heaven’s Gate and made you lose all face. If he’d really been possessed, shouldn’t that be exactly what you wanted? Or…” His lips curved.
“…are you actually worried about him?”
Feng Qingyun was so furious he nearly choked. Glaring straight into those violet eyes, he snapped, “…No matter what else he may be, he defeated me fairly and openly before the eyes of the world! How could someone like you, a sneaking, underhanded parasite, even be mentioned in the same breath as him?!”
The man froze for a moment. Then, as though Feng Qingyun’s righteous indignation on Long Yin’s behalf delighted him beyond measure, he suddenly caught Feng Qingyun’s chin and lowered his head to kiss him.
The instant those soft lips touched his own, Feng Qingyun completely froze. His eyes widened in utter disbelief, looking as though the kiss itself had stunned him senseless.
When he finally came back to himself, both embarrassment and anger flooded his face, making the fury in his eyes burn even brighter.
“You!”
Long Yin laughed outright, continuing, “I never imagined Palace Master Feng held that useless fool in such high regard. I’ll be sure to pass your compliments along. He’ll be overjoyed to hear them.”
“But first…” He lowered his gaze, staring into Feng Qingyun’s eyes without blinking. The dark violet in his pupils deepened until it seemed almost bottomless.
“…Allow me to introduce myself properly. I’m no body-snatcher.”
Feng Qingyun looked at him uncertainly, unable to make sense of the situation.
“I am simply the heart demon of that dear archenemy of yours.” The man lowered his voice.
With that, every ounce of Feng Qingyun’s anger came to an abrupt halt. For a long moment, he was so shocked that he completely forgot he’d just been kissed. He had never imagined that someone as mentally unshakable as Long Yin…
…could possess a heart demon.
“He knew long ago that you’d come begging him.” The heart demon slowly brushed a thumb across Feng Qingyun’s reddened lower lip. “What a pity he’s such a hopeless coward.”
“His beloved was delivered right into his hands, yet he couldn’t bear to touch you. He merely wanted to hear you plead with him a couple of times before sending you safely back.”
Beloved…?
What beloved?!
Feng Qingyun stared at him in complete astonishment, clutching the sheets beneath him.
“He was actually planning to let such a prize slip away so easily.” The heart demon lowered his head until his lips nearly brushed Feng Qingyun’s ear.
“Tell me… isn’t he utterly useless? But since he’s so incompetent…”
“…I’ve only temporarily taken over.”
Seeing Feng Qingyun’s wide, startled eyes, the heart demon seemed thoroughly amused as he kindly added, “Oh, and while we’re at it… there are seven heart demons just like me.”
“…”
Seven?!
Feng Qingyun’s scalp went numb. Instinctively, he shrank backward as the heart demon continued, “We each embody one of his seven emotions.” Smiling, he drew so close that their foreheads were almost touching.
“Why don’t you guess which one I am? If you guess correctly, I’ll reward you by letting you meet the original you’ve been longing for. But if you guess wrong…” His smile widened.
“…then your reward will be meeting the other heart demons instead.”
Since when have I ever been longing to see the real Long Yin?!
Feng Qingyun cursed inwardly. But with his cultivation completely sealed, he didn’t dare make any rash moves. And strangely enough, once he realized this wasn’t a body-snatcher but one of Long Yin’s own heart demons, much of the rage he’d felt at being trapped subsided.
In its place remained only an indescribable unease.
Looking inward, Feng Qingyun discovered that the black Qi suppressing his Dantian was slowly beginning to dissipate. For now, the wisest course was clearly to keep the other man placated.
So he lowered his eyes, his lashes trembling faintly, one hand braced against the mattress behind him.
“…Joy?”
It was merely a stalling tactic, but unfortunately, it was utterly ineffective.
“What a pity,” the man chuckled softly. “You guessed wrong.” As he spoke, he casually hooked a finger beneath Feng Qingyun’s sash and tugged it loose. Lowering his voice into a husky laugh, he said,
“I am Desire.”
“…?!”
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