Even if the one who had replaced Lu Zhixing was Lu Zhixing himself, so what? Although Lu Zhixing was out of his mind, if he could experience what Lu Zhixing had once felt, that would be exactly what Luo Cheng’an wanted.
The sun sank toward the horizon, and the sky looked like a painting rendered in rich, vivid strokes, exuding a romance that seemed to come from nowhere.
The incoming tide surged up to their feet before receding, only for another wave to follow. The waves were not particularly fierce, but they soaked their shoes and socks. Their waterlogged trouser legs clung to their bodies, making them terribly uncomfortable.
Lu Zhixing regarded Luo Cheng’an with a dark expression. After a moment, a sinister smile appeared on his face.
“Shen Tan has gotten in touch with me. Would you like to meet him?”
The smile on Luo Cheng’an’s face froze. He retreated several steps and cursed, “You’re insane.”
Then he hurriedly ran off, as though even hearing the name Shen Tan made him desperate to flee.
He had resorted to a few tricks to temporarily seal Shen Tan’s magical powers and conceal their whereabouts, allowing them to escape that madman for a short while.
He had no intention of letting all his hard work go to waste.
Compared with provoking Lu Zhixing, the last thing he wanted was to see Shen Tan.
Luo Cheng’an hurried into the lobby and collided face-to-face with Xi Yu, who was walking briskly in the opposite direction.
“Where are you going?”
Xi Yu tossed out a single sentence—“To coax a child”—before quickly running toward the beach.
Lu Zhixing was looking down, using his shoes, which had grown considerably heavier from soaking in the water, to kick the pebbles at his feet. Apparently finding them uncomfortable, he kicked off his shoes and was just about to bend down to pick them up.
The next second, a dark head abruptly appeared in his field of vision.
Lu Zhixing froze, remaining bent at a very peculiar angle of approximately thirty degrees as he met Xi Yu’s upturned face.
Beneath the setting sun, Xi Yu’s features were serene, like a painting rendered with several of the most vibrant colors from an entire collection of paintbrushes.
“Do you want to take your socks off?”
Xi Yu remained crouched, holding Lu Zhixing’s shoes in one hand while extending his other palm upward.
His tone was remarkably calm, as though nothing had happened. It was as ordinary as commenting that the weather was quite nice today, without any of the awkwardness of their cold war or any accusation about the way Lu Zhixing had been treating him.
Xi Yu’s skin was very fair, with a healthy flush spread across his palm. His fingers were long and elegant, as though carved from the finest white jade—perfect for admiring and handling, but not for getting dirty.
Yet that very hand was held so low, right beside Lu Zhixing’s feet, which were still covered in black knee-high socks. All Lu Zhixing had to do was lift his foot slightly, and he could step directly onto Xi Yu’s palm.
Lu Zhixing looked at Xi Yu, his eyes dark and deep. After a moment, he straightened up and took two steps back.
“No need. Thank you.”
A flicker of disappointment crossed Xi Yu’s eyes.
Holding Lu Zhixing’s shoes, he said, “Then let’s go back.”
Lu Zhixing said nothing. He did not ask Xi Yu to return his shoes, either, and instead moved even farther away.
He remained silent, utterly quiet. So quiet that Xi Yu began to feel at a loss all over again.
“Please give me my shoes.”
Standing at the entrance to his room, Lu Zhixing held out his hand and added, “Thank you.”
He was courteous yet distant, as though they had never once lain side by side in bed, their faces close enough to brush against each other.
Lu Zhixing took his shoes away. Xi Yu was a beat slow to react, and almost instinctively, he caught Lu Zhixing’s wrist as the latter turned away.
Warm against cool—the temperature difference arose where Xi Yu’s palm met Lu Zhixing’s wrist.
Lu Zhixing glanced sideways at him.
“Is there something else?”
Xi Yu had grabbed him instinctively, without having any idea what he wanted to say or do. As a result, even after Lu Zhixing finished speaking and several moments passed, Xi Yu still could not think of an appropriate response.
Lu Zhixing lowered his eyelids and looked at the pale hand resting on his wrist. Then he dropped the shoe in his other hand and began prying Xi Yu’s fingers away, one by one, with almost ruthless determination.
“If there’s nothing else, I’d like to take a shower first,” Lu Zhixing said.
Then, right in front of Xi Yu, he slowly closed the door, even remembering to say politely, “Good night.”
It was nowhere near bedtime. Lu Zhixing’s farewell was so abrupt that it seemed as though he was deliberately trying to put something off.
But Xi Yu was flustered and failed to notice anything strange about it. Instead, he seized on this little delay and swiftly caught the door just before it closed.
Xi Yu gazed at Lu Zhixing.
“Can we sleep together tonight?”
…………….
Xi Yu’s gaze was fervent, fixed directly on Lu Zhixing. It was as though his stalled brain had finally started working again.
He had been trapped in a misconception all along: waiting for Lu Zhixing to approach him, then offer him candy and kisses. He had never considered that he could simply chase after Lu Zhixing himself.
Their relationship had always appeared to be one in which Xi Yu indulged Lu Zhixing. But that was not actually the case. It was Lu Zhixing who had always been walking toward Xi Yu.
This had become such an ingrained habit that someone like Xi Yu had never once experienced chasing after another person.
What kind of person was Xi Yu? Just as Shen Qing had said, he was powerful, humble, courteous, and always knew when to advance or retreat. Yet he maintained clear boundaries between himself and others.
It would be inaccurate to call Xi Yu gentle. Beneath his gentle exterior lay a kind of coldness and detachment that even he himself did not recognize.
He had been born with both divine and demonic natures. It was true that Xi Yu had enjoyed a period of carefree happiness, but once the turning point arrived, that little bit of joy became the sharpest blade in the midst of hundreds of thousands of years of hatred.
The pain never left him, not for a single moment.
The first-generation Demon Venerable represented endless slaughter and viciousness. That was the hatred born from watching his closest family members being devoured alive by demons. Even after he severed his demonic bloodline, he was still different from those proper gods in the Ninth Heaven.
When Xi Yu first transformed into a child and was born inside a snow lotus in the Jade Lake, he had merely been giving himself enough time to wear down his own viciousness and, more importantly, to learn how to conduct himself as a god.
Not every god was perfect, but Xi Yu was sufficiently intelligent. He took the best from each and discarded the worst, eventually becoming the Divine Venerable revered by all the gods.
His gentleness and approachability were, in truth, a kind of perfunctory indifference—like saying, “Mm-hmm,” “All right,” or “Whatever you say is right.”
He simply did not care.
Xi Yu did not care about anyone. Huaixi had been born at almost the same time as him, and Xi Yu had observed Huaixi’s behavior as a child.
Of all the people in the Ninth Heaven, Huaixi was the one Xi Yu observed most closely.
He saw Huaixi’s sincerity, openness, and concern for the world.
Huaixi was the first person to leap across all those boundaries and become Xi Yu’s first friend. He was also Xi Yu’s only friend.
But that was as far as it went.
Throughout his long life, Xi Yu had spent two-thirds of his time cultivating. During the remaining time, he imitated ordinary people, never allowing his bone-deep hatred to show.
He had studied for a very long time and mastered the most impeccable way of dealing with others.
He made sure never to owe anyone anything, never to care too much, and never to treat anyone coldly. Just as when Jiang Yunzheng borrowed his blood, Xi Yu repaid him with a hundred years of peace and freedom from worry.
It had to be this way. He had to maintain the perfect social distance from everyone. The occasional deliberately playful remark served as the finishing touch that made his imitation seem lifelike.
But hundreds of thousands of years ago, Zhi Li had suddenly fallen from the heavens.
Through a series of coincidences, Xi Yu’s compassion had landed on a spirit beast, as though fate itself had arranged it.
From the very beginning, Zhi Li had never been a model for Xi Yu to imitate. He was neither a god nor an immortal, merely a spirit beast who had to attempt transforming into human form three times to succeed even once.
He could barely speak without stumbling over his words. Aside from gazing at Xi Yu with those beautiful purple eyes, looking at him with shy admiration, there was nothing about him worth imitating.
He was a child—a beautiful little purple snake, sweet as a soft, round dumpling. Sometimes he curled up beside Xi Yu’s feet, his scales glittering like gemstones.
Xi Yu held such a lofty position that, despite his breathtaking appearance, no one dared to openly express their affection for him too boldly. Some people did not even dare to meet his eyes.
Huaixi had originally been the person with the best opportunity to confess his feelings, but he was cautious and meticulous, leaving no openings. He did not dare let Xi Yu discover his feelings.
Those who loved Xi Yu were as numerous as carp crossing a river, yet not a single one truly made it all the way to his side.
Not even Zhi Li, back then.
But Zhi Li had one advantage: he was not intimidated by Xi Yu’s authority or lofty status, nor did he agonize over Xi Yu’s coldness and detachment. He treated Xi Yu as a respected teacher and elder, and later, as a beloved he could never hope to attain.
Whichever it was, Zhi Li was always remarkably proactive.
He was good at peering into people’s hearts. The moment Xi Yu revealed even the tiniest crack in his emotional defenses, Zhi Li would slip straight through it. And when that crack closed, Zhi Li would naturally remain inside, without the owner himself, Xi Yu, ever realizing what had happened.
Xi Yu stood beyond the Three Realms with only one purpose: to avenge his mother. He had neither the time nor the inclination to learn about love. Yet Zhi Li had already taught him how to love long ago.
Still, Xi Yu had never taken a single step toward love himself. He had been fortunate enough to be enveloped by a lover who would never leave him, and so he had never realized that the solution had been right in front of him all along.
This time, Zhi Li’s past actions would serve as a model, teaching Xi Yu how to soothe a sulking Lu Zhixing.
“The window in my room has been open all day, so there are lots of mosquitoes.”
Xi Yu blinked, his manner almost cautious.
“Can I sleep with you?”
Xi Yu had once again asked to share a bed. Lu Zhixing looked at him through the narrow gap in the door. After a long moment, he released his hold on the door and replied rather slowly, “You can ask room service to bring some mosquito repellent.”
That deliberate distancing again.
If Xi Yu were acting according to his usual ways, he would have let go and then stood there, at a loss.
But Zhi Li would not.
Xi Yu wondered what Zhi Li would do if their positions were reversed.
He fell silent for a moment, then bit his lip and pressed a hand to his chest. His normally upright figure suddenly seemed frail, as though he might collapse at any moment.
“All right,” Xi Yu said, coughing twice. “I’ll go ask room service.”
He turned and walked away without the slightest hesitation, unlike Lu Zhixing, who had put on such an affectedly reluctant act even while closing the door.
Xi Yu counted silently to himself.
The number three had barely taken shape in his mind when someone caught his hand.
“Are you injured?”
Lu Zhixing’s voice was urgent, and he could not conceal his panic.
Xi Yu shook his head, as though he were too strong to let anyone glimpse his vulnerability.
“No.”
As he spoke, Xi Yu imitated what Lu Zhixing had done earlier, slowly prying Lu Zhixing’s fingers away one by one. He even used Lu Zhixing’s own tone.
“Good night.”