“Who else?” Xi Yu scrutinized Lu Zhixing, looking at him with contempt, mockery, and derision. “I may not be able to kill you, but at the very least, keeping you where I can see you will ensure you don’t slaughter innocent people.”
Xi Yu’s words struck straight at Lu Zhixing’s heart like a sword.
“I won’t.” Lu Zhixing repeated himself. “Mas— I won’t kill anyone.”
Xi Yu looked at him. After a moment, he let out a scornful laugh. “The blood of the demon race is filthy. Do you think someone carrying that blood is still worthy of my trust?”
Lu Zhixing’s pupils contracted. The blood throughout his body seemed to freeze.
The sunlight was warm, yet he felt as cold as though he had been plunged into ice.
He had thought he could no longer feel pain.
He had thought his heart had been crushed along with that lotus petal in Xi Yu’s hand.
But he had overestimated himself and underestimated just how much Xi Yu despised him.
He had already planned to hide himself away and wait until the Nine Stars aligned with the Moon before activating the extermination formation.
Yet Xi Yu’s hatred of the demon race was so deep that even though he detested Lu Zhixing this much, he still insisted on keeping him right under his nose.
Slaughter innocent people?
Lu Zhixing had never imagined that Xi Yu would use those words to describe him.
Before, his Master had told him not to be so softhearted that others could bully him.
Before, his Master had kept him close because he was worried Lu Zhixing would be unable to protect himself.
Even after Lu Zhixing ascended to become a High God, his Master had continued to believe he was weak and easily bullied.
But now, because of this one change in identity, Xi Yu still wanted to keep him by his side, yet everything was utterly different.
Lu Zhixing lifted his foot to follow.
Xi Yu, who had just told him to come along, frowned and took a step back. Then he hurried away, moving so quickly that it seemed Lu Zhixing’s single step had made even the air around him filthy.
The contempt in Xi Yu’s eyes cut Lu Zhixing to pieces. His raised foot came to a halt.
Luo Cheng’an knitted his brows tightly. Xi Yu’s treatment of Lu Zhixing was far more vicious than he could ever have imagined.
He had told Lu Zhixing to move, yet Xi Yu had already gone far ahead. After hesitating briefly, Luo Cheng’an snapped at him, “Idiot! Hurry up and follow us!”
With that, he hurried after Xi Yu.
Chan Yu, coiled around Lu Zhixing’s wrist, had been ignored by its new master for so long that it could not help tightening its grip.
Even during all those years when Zhuohua had suppressed it, it had never felt this aggrieved.
Now Lu Zhixing was deliberately ignoring it, and his sleeve covered it so thoroughly that it could not even see the sun.
Chan Yu began writhing more and more violently. Lu Zhixing clenched his fist.
“Behave yourself. Don’t come out.”
Don’t make him even more hated…
He really was beginning to reach his limit.
Since his identity had been exposed, he had spoken only a handful of words with his Master, yet every single one had felt like a brutal torture.
He really was beginning to reach his limit.
The Nine Stars would align with the Moon in half a month. He had no idea whether he would survive the extermination formation.
These next two weeks might be the last time he would ever spend with his Master.
Even if he was hated, he had to endure it.
If he could survive the extermination formation, would there still be a chance for him…?
At the entrance to Wutong Stronghold,
Fu Ye and Sangbiao were waiting. When they saw Xi Yu approaching, they went forward to greet him.
“Mr. Xi,” Fu Ye said, “I’ve come to see you off.”
Gratitude filled Sangbiao’s amber eyes as he looked at Xi Yu.
“Have you made up your mind?” Xi Yu asked. “You still want to stay here? You could take Sangbiao and leave Wutong Stronghold now, traveling the world and seeing all its wonders.”
A trace of longing appeared in Fu Ye’s eyes.
Ever since birth, his identity had prevented him from taking even a single step outside Wutong Stronghold. Later, after his people were wiped out, he had become unable to leave for other reasons.
He had never stepped beyond the stronghold to see the scenery outside.
Xi Yu’s offer held a genuinely irresistible appeal for him. Nevertheless, Fu Ye shook his head. Taking Sangbiao’s hand, he said to Xi Yu, “Your willingness to spare my life is already an immense gift. All I want now is to stay here and look after Wutong Stronghold. With Sangbiao by my side, I’m already more than content.”
Xi Yu said nothing more.
By then, Luo Cheng’an and Lu Zhixing had caught up. Xi Yu turned his head and looked at the Heart-Probing Stone, just half a step away.
The barrier had disappeared, yet the Heart-Probing Stone remained here.
That day, he had thought Lu Zhixing and Luo Cheng’an truly had no selfish desires. Now that he thought about it, they had merely used some special method to evade the stone.
This was something the ancestors of Wutong Stronghold had left behind. Even if Fu Ye never left, the Heart-Probing Stone could still protect the stronghold by preventing outsiders from entering.
The demons who had taken human form because of Zhuohua’s spiritual power could pass through the Heart-Probing Stone and enter Wutong Stronghold. They had received Fu Ye’s kindness and would not harm him. Besides, Sangbiao was there to protect him.
There was no need to pass through the Heart-Probing Stone when leaving the stronghold. Xi Yu walked around it, and his figure disappeared in an instant.
Luo Cheng’an and Lu Zhixing followed close behind.
In just a few seconds, only Fu Ye and Sangbiao remained at the entrance to Wutong Stronghold.
Sangbiao transformed into his beast form and leaped into Fu Ye’s arms. Fu Ye cradled him in the crook of his arm, his once-stoic expression now gentle and peaceful.
He remembered what Xi Yu had told him that day.
The astrolabe had shown that the last hope for Wutong Stronghold would be extinguished, though there might still be a sliver of possibility for things to turn around.
At first, Fu Ye had thought that the prophecy meant he would trap the people who came here. Later, when he realized he could not trap Xi Yu, he had assumed his death was inevitable.
But Xi Yu had explained that Fu Ye had been nourished by Zhuohua’s spiritual power for a thousand years. He was now neither human, demon, immortal, nor devil, and thus did not belong to any of the Three Realms. He possessed no magic, but the spiritual energy he had absorbed over those thousand years was enough to sustain him for another millennium.
The sliver of hope in the prophecy had turned out to be Xi Yu’s compassion.
Fu Ye did not know why Xi Yu had spared him, but he was truly grateful.
Fu Ye looked at Sangbiao and said, “Mimi, we can still stay together for a long, long time.”
Sangbiao immediately bristled. “I told you to call me Sangbiao! The Great King Sangbiao!”
……………………
“I thought you would kill him,” Luo Cheng’an said.
As the Crown Prince of the Heavenly Realm—and now the Heavenly Emperor—Luo Cheng’an believed that Fu Ye had committed a grave offense and deserved to die. Otherwise, there would be no order in Heaven and Earth.
Fu Ye might not have done anything particularly evil, but because of his own obsession, he had prevented hundreds of lingering souls from being reincarnated. That alone was a violation of the heavenly laws.
Yet Fu Ye had been nourished by Zhuohua’s spiritual power for a thousand years and was no longer an ordinary mortal. Whether he lived or died depended entirely on Lanxing’s decision.
Lanxing was worshipped by countless immortals and stood supreme among the gods. Luo Cheng’an had assumed that Lanxing would never spare Fu Ye.
“You people have far too many assumptions.”
After dropping that remark, Xi Yu brushed past Luo Cheng’an and left first.
Luo Cheng’an watched Xi Yu’s retreating figure but did not follow. Instead, he turned his head toward Lu Zhixing, who looked as though his very soul had been torn from his body. Confusion flickered in his eyes.
Fu Ye and Lanxing had never known each other before. Luo Cheng’an had no idea what the two of them had discussed inside the room.
But he suspected that something had happened that he did not know about, something that had led Lanxing to spare Fu Ye.
Still, no one had ever given more to Lanxing than Zhili had.
Lanxing’s decision to spare Fu Ye was enough to prove that he was not a cold-blooded person.
During all those years in the Heavenly Realm, from the way Lanxing had treated Zhili and the years they had spent together, Luo Cheng’an had known that Lanxing had never been a cold and heartless immortal.
Would someone like that truly refuse to soften his heart at all, considering everything Zhili had sacrificed for him?
Lanxing was someone who clearly distinguished between gratitude and resentment. Luo Cheng’an believed that Lanxing’s hatred of the demon race would make him want to kill Zhili, but he could not believe that if Lanxing were unable to kill Zhili, he would continue treating him with such cruelty.
Luo Cheng’an lowered his eyes, an inexplicable sense of unease stirring in his heart.
He felt that something was terribly wrong, yet he could not put his finger on what it was.
*
The Luo family residence, City A.
Xi Yu lay on the bed, his appearance having already returned to normal.
Neither Luo Cheng’an nor Lu Zhixing had followed him back to his room.
Looking around the room where he had not slept for nearly a month, Xi Yu felt a fleeting sense of helplessness and bewilderment. It soon disappeared.
He looked at the dark green bedsheets. They were no longer the ones that had been there before he left. The floor and coffee table, however, were completely free of dust, enough to show that someone had been cleaning the room every day.
Xi Yu’s gaze fell on the left side of the bed, and Lu Zhixing’s face came clearly to mind.
Before he left, Lu Zhixing had still been the perfect disciple he believed had lost his memories.
He had kept the young man by his side, held him in his arms, and slept beside him in this very bed.
That familiar sense of helplessness, which had begun to plague him ever since Zhili’s identity was exposed, now wound around his heart again, thread by thread.
It was like a net woven from golden threads, spreading over his heart, tightening and sinking into his flesh until it carved bloody marks into him.
Xi Yu closed his eyes, formed a dust-cleansing spell, and lay down on the bed.
Not on the right side where he had always slept, but on the left, where Lu Zhixing’s warmth had long since faded.
Luo Yuan and Shen Qing had to go to work that morning. Xi Yu did not need to eat, either. All he wanted was to sleep.
During the last half month at Wutong Stronghold, Xi Yu had spent almost all his time sleeping.
He had slept as though trying to escape.
As long as he was asleep, he did not have to think about anything.
Through the wall separating their rooms, Lu Zhixing rested his hand against the surface. Wherever his fingers brushed, the wall turned transparent.
Xi Yu’s peaceful sleeping face came into view.
Lu Zhixing’s fingertips moved slightly as he traced Xi Yu’s face on the wall, as though he were caressing it.
He would never again have the chance to hold his Master as he once had.
Looking back now, those two nights at Wutong Stronghold seemed like a final flicker of life before the light went out.
They had been their last moments of intimacy before his identity was exposed.
During the days he had knelt outside his Master’s door, he had wondered why, if his Master already knew his true identity, he had still shared such intimate moments with him.
He had even allowed himself the wild hope that perhaps his Master had felt the slightest bit of affection for him, the kind of affection lovers felt for each other.
But when his Master had personally crushed the red lotus petal, Lu Zhixing finally understood that he had been imagining things.
At the time, his Master had still believed that he had lost his memories. The reason he had treated him that way was simply that there had been no better person at hand for him to use to satisfy his desires.
Lu Zhixing pressed himself close to the wall, the corners of his eyes tinged red, filled with boundless longing and pain.