Xi Yu braced his hands against the table, his jaw tense. He had never imagined that Huai Xi would love him.
He and Huai Xi were far too compatible. He had once thought they would remain close friends for a long time.
Back then, he had indeed considered choosing a divine consort.
After all, cultivating together with a divine consort who possessed powerful spiritual energy could multiply one’s cultivation speed.
Slaughtering the demon race had always been part of his plans. He had already sensed that the demons were growing stronger, and without absolute certainty of success, he could not act rashly.
When the Heavenly Emperor proposed selecting divine consorts, he had seriously considered it. But he soon abandoned the idea. Zhili had certainly pestered him about it, but the more important reason was that he still could not accept the thought of a stranger moving into the Star-Gathering Hall.
“Then you should blame me,” Xi Yu said hoarsely. “I was the one who did all those things. You shouldn’t hate him. You should hate me.”
“Hate you?” Luo Cheng’an repeated, as though he had just heard a joke. He looked at Xi Yu and asked, “Do you think I don’t want to hate you?”
“Zhili was willing to throw away his life for you. He knew perfectly well that if his actions were exposed, you would kill him with your own hands, yet he still did it willingly. Do you think he hates you?”
“He gave everything he had and received nothing but your hatred in return. He was even capable of coveting his own master. Do you think he was some kind of saint who wanted nothing from the world? He doesn’t hate you because he cannot hate you. I’m the same.”
“Love, hatred, resentment, obsession—love comes first, and hatred comes after. I love you! It’s not that I don’t want to hate you. It’s that I can’t hate you, so I can only hate him!”
Xi Yu swayed slightly. He turned around, picked up the teacup on the table, and hastily gulped down a mouthful of hot tea. Only then did the chill in his blood begin to dissipate.
“Leave,” Xi Yu said. “Just leave.”
Don’t let him see any more of these people.
He didn’t want to see a single one of them.
They were all the same, every last one of them. They used love as an excuse to do whatever they pleased. It was both ridiculous and pathetic.
Luo Cheng’an didn’t move. He felt as though he were Zhili trapped inside that secret chamber—still alive, yet worse than dead.
……………………………………….
He couldn’t help making one last attempt to defend himself.
“I know that you hate me now, too. You blame me and think I schemed at every turn, that I wanted him dead. But Lanxing…” Luo Cheng’an said with a bitter smile. “I didn’t force him. I only told him how it could be done. Everything that happened afterward was his own choice.”
He had never forced Zhili to do anything.
Falling into demonic cultivation, having his divine bones extracted, going to his death—all of those had been Zhili’s own choices.
Hearing this, Xi Yu finally lost the last of the composure he had struggled to maintain. He swept everything off the table in one violent motion, as though this extreme destruction could release the murderous rage trapped in his chest.
“Get out! Get out of here!”
Luo Cheng’an pressed his lips together and turned to leave.
Xi Yu lowered his head, breathing hard. His eyes were bloodshot, his expression sinister and terrifying, yet beneath that darkness, fleeting traces of helplessness and vulnerability remained.
How could he not know that Zhili had made those choices himself?
It was precisely because he knew…
Because he knew that Huai Xi had not forced Zhili into his present state, he had no grounds to unleash his fury.
If Huai Xi had truly coerced him, Xi Yu would have killed Huai Xi with his own hands to satisfy his hatred.
But no one could force another person to fall into demonic cultivation. If Zhili had never harbored such intentions, then even if Huai Xi had pressured him, Zhili would never have been able to reconstruct himself through sheer obsession.
At most, Huai Xi had merely pushed him along. He had only restored Zhili’s memories and given him a method.
Everything else had been Zhili’s own choice.
At this point, Xi Yu no longer knew whom he should hate.
Huai Xi? But even though he claimed to hate him, he had not killed him while Zhili was unconscious and suffering from amnesia. Huai Xi was the Crown Prince of the Heavenly Realm, raised from childhood on the teachings of the righteous path. He would never stoop to such a despicable act as taking an innocent life.
Although he had given Zhili a method, everything that followed had been done willingly by Zhili himself.
But could he hate Zhili?
Zhili had ascended to become a High God step by step, starting from the humble form of a spirit beast.
The hardships he had endured could not have been spared simply because Xi Yu had given him a few spiritual fruits and taught him a few things.
Zhili had managed to ascend as a spirit beast through the combination of his talent and hard work.
Those endless days and nights of practice in the Star-Gathering Hall had been real.
Zhili had wanted so desperately to become a High God. Xi Yu had never understood why, but now he finally did.
Zhili had wanted to stand beside him, to become someone who could stand as his equal.
Yet Zhili, who had once looked forward so eagerly to attaining the position of a High God, had lost his divine bones in barely a thousand years. He had fallen into the demon race and become the Demon Venerable, a figure reviled by everyone.
Xi Yu hated that identity. It had left Zhili with no possibility of ever standing beside him again.
How could he bring himself to hate, blame, or resent someone like that?
Xi Yu slid down the wall and collapsed onto the floor, as though every last bit of strength had left him. His eyes were empty and unfocused.
As if sensing its master’s grief, Zhuohua coiled more tightly around his arm, seemingly trying to tell him that it would always stay by his side.
Xi Yu stroked Zhuohua and gave a bitter smile.
He had known all along that Zhuohua recognized Zhili as its master.
He hated the demon race, but he also had to admit that he had known perfectly well that the arrow would not kill Zhili. That was why he had released it without the slightest hesitation.
Xi Yu clutched his almost numb, aching chest and curled into a ball.
After a long while, muffled sobs spread through the room.
\*
The temperature in Wutong Stronghold plunged. Thick layers of clouds blanketed the sky, pressing the gloom down upon the earth.
A heavy rain descended upon Wutong Stronghold.
It lasted a full three days.
Xi Yu spent all three days sitting in a corner. He neither ate nor drank nor slept, and he did not speak.
Beneath the steps outside the door, Lu Zhixing knelt with his back straight. The bloodstains on his face had long since been washed clean by the rain. He wore only thin clothing, his face as pale as paper. Water dripped from his clothes, and his eyelashes were wet with what might have been rain—or something else.
Luo Cheng’an stood at the doorway. For the first time, he did not mock Lu Zhixing for his miserable appearance.
What right did he have to mock Zhili? Zhili had become a demon because Luo Cheng’an himself had helped push him in that direction.
The two of them were now a demon and a god, worlds apart in status, yet they shared one thing.
They were both despised by Lanxing.
Did he regret it?
No.
Not in the slightest. When Lanxing had asked Zhili whether he regretted anything, Zhili had said he had no regrets.
Luo Cheng’an was the same.
Even if he was hated and despised, how could he possibly regret it?
The rain gradually stopped, but the sky remained gloomy. Apart from occasional gusts of wind, there was no sound at all, much like the three lonely, restless hearts.
No one knew how much time had passed when hurried, unsteady footsteps came from the end of the corridor.
Lu Zhixing seemed not to hear them. His gaze remained stubbornly fixed on the tightly shut door.
Luo Cheng’an turned his head slightly. The moment he saw Fu Ye, his brows drew together. He raised a hand to stop him, but Sangbiao moved first.
Luo Cheng’an sneered. He thought the cat demon was far too presumptuous to actually dare challenge him.
He had no intention of wasting time fighting the creature. With a wave of his hand, a streak of spiritual light shot straight toward Sangbiao.
The attack would not kill him, but it would be enough to keep both the man and the demon out of his sight for a while.
Yet before it could reach them, a faster strand of divine energy intercepted it.
Luo Cheng’an whipped around and saw that Xi Yu had appeared at the doorway at some point.
“Master…” Lu Zhixing lifted his brows and called out in delighted surprise.
It had only been three days, yet to him, it felt as though years had passed. He gazed at Xi Yu in a daze and began moving toward him on his knees.
Xi Yu lowered his eyes slightly.
Lu Zhixing’s knees suddenly felt as though they weighed a thousand jin. He came to an abrupt halt, unable to move any farther.
That peerlessly beautiful face was now covered in layer upon layer of frost. Xi Yu merely glanced at Lu Zhixing before looking away, as though he could not bear to look at him for even a moment longer.
“Let them in,” Xi Yu said to Luo Cheng’an.
Luo Cheng’an froze for a moment. Then he clasped his hands behind his back, looking somewhat guilty.
“Fine, fine. Let them in.”
With that, Luo Cheng’an leaned back against the pillar again, making way for Fu Ye and Sangbiao.
Sangbiao shot Luo Cheng’an a fierce glare, while Fu Ye hurried into Xi Yu’s room.
Xi Yu sat on a chair. The teacups that had been shattered across the floor had somehow been restored to their original state.
The entire room was clean and orderly, as though the chaos had never happened.
“Close the door,” Xi Yu said.
Sangbiao let out two meows. As a cat demon, he was not in the habit of closing doors. Fu Ye had entered first, but he had been in such a hurry that he had forgotten.
Sangbiao turned around and looked at Lu Zhixing, who was still kneeling beneath the steps. His movements slowed. He even shifted slightly to one side, making sure Lu Zhixing could see more clearly.
Lu Zhixing stared fixedly at the narrowing gap between the door and its frame. He was staring so intently that his eyeballs began to ache.
From where he knelt, he could see his master’s lowered brows and side profile.
Lu Zhixing did not even dare blink, afraid that he might miss a single glimpse.
But no matter how slowly Sangbiao closed the door, it would eventually shut.
It was a door he could turn to dust with a single wave of his hand. Yet at that moment, it seemed like an insurmountable chasm standing between him and Xi Yu.
Xi Yu appeared not to notice Sangbiao’s little gesture. With a wave of his hand, he sealed the entire room within a barrier.
Fu Ye stared fixedly at Zhuohua, which was coiled around Xi Yu’s arm, then dropped to his knees with a thud.
…………………………
Seeing this, Sangbiao moved to stand behind Fu Ye, taking up a protective stance.
Xi Yu’s expression was not exactly pleasant, but he showed no discernible emotion. He looked like a beautiful puppet, numb and lifeless.
“Mr. Xi, I was ignorant and failed to recognize your true identity. I offended you, but I beg you to consider the fact that I have spent my entire life doing good deeds and have never killed anyone. Please save my people. I’m begging you!”
Fu Ye kowtowed to Xi Yu again and again, each impact producing a dull thud. Before long, his forehead had swollen and reddened, and bright red blood began to trickle down from the wound.
Sangbiao’s face filled with distress, but there was nothing he could do. He simply could not stop Fu Ye. He had used demon magic to put Fu Ye to sleep, but when Fu Ye woke up, he threatened to kill himself if Sangbiao tried to stop him again.
Sangbiao truly had no other options.