Chapter 83 Part 2

“Hah…”

The pill fire at the base of the Pill Furnace burned slowly. Steam rose in white mist, turning the room into a hazy, dreamlike fairyland.

Xie Shu supported Qixue’s thighs, holding him close. They bobbed in the water like a lone boat at sea, Xie Shu his only island of refuge—only in his embrace could he find peace.

Even the ruby pendant had been warmed by their body heat, becoming toasty. Qixue hugged Xie Shu tightly, tears falling like pearls. Unable to bear it, he bit down on Xie Shu’s silver hair. Xie Shu paid him no mind, letting Qixue vent his frustration on his head.

The moon rose over the treetops, and the night grew hazy, gradually giving way to bright daylight.

A night passed, and Qixue, utterly exhausted, fell into a deep sleep.

When he woke again, he was still cradled in Xie Shu’s arms. The first sound from his lips was a soft moan: “Xie… ah!”

“You’re awake?”

Xie Shu brushed aside his sweat-dampened black hair, his voice cool and detached, though his actions contradicted it entirely.

Qixue stared in disbelief for a long moment. He couldn’t believe he had woken up in such a state—he suspected Xie Shu had never left at all.

“Did you… ah!”

“Yes.”

Xie Shu knew what he wanted to ask. “Don’t worry. I fed you a Fasting Pill and some tonic medicine. You won’t die.”

“…”

Qixue trembled inwardly. What he needed wasn’t tonic for his body—it was for his ass!

With the slightest movement, he could hear sloshing sounds from his belly. He felt like a fully stuffed rabbit water pouch, filled to the brim with liquid—and that liquid was none other than Xie Shu’s Primordial Yang…

Xie Shu pressed down on his abdomen and said, “Since you’ve acknowledged me as your husband, once you give birth to this child, I won’t let him call Helan Ji father. I am his father, and I will treat him as my own flesh and blood. In return, you must bear a child for me.”

Qixue had been plotting a sneaky escape, but at these words, he froze. His flushed face paled like a wilting flower, and in a dry, hoarse voice, he said, “…I can’t have children.”

“What do you mean?” Xie Shu frowned.

“My child… it’s fake…”

Whenever Qixue thought of it, sorrow welled up, and tears spilled down his cheeks. “I wasn’t actually pregnant—it was false pregnancy. Xuan Yang Daoist didn’t want me to bear His Majesty’s child, so he tricked me. He injected a strand of spiritual power into my body, making me believe I was pregnant.”

That spiritual power was so potent that even the imperial physicians detected a joyful pulse when they examined him. He and His Majesty had both firmly believed they had a child—until the Holy Monarch ruthlessly exposed the lie, shattering all his joy.

Now, no matter how bitter Qixue felt, he had no choice but to accept reality. Still, he was deeply saddened and in pain, finding some relief only in confiding in Xie Shu.

Xie Shu furrowed his brow and channeled a thread of spiritual power into Qixue’s body for an examination, then took his pulse. Sure enough, there was no child.

He had previously sensed a strand of spiritual energy in Qixue’s body, but it was mild and harmless. After taking the Baosui Pill, an early pregnancy often manifested as spiritual energy, so he hadn’t suspected anything.

This time, however, his thorough check revealed that Xuan Yang hadn’t only deceived Qixue—he had also placed a powerful seal inside him, preventing Qixue from bearing anyone else’s child. Xuan Yang’s own offspring, however, would face no issue.

Xie Shu fell silent for a moment, then lifted Qixue from his lap and pulled him into an embrace, gently patting his back to soothe him. “It’s fine. If you truly want to bear Helan Ji’s child, you can try again. I will raise him.”

Qixue clung to Xie Shu with a fragile expression and murmured, “But Xuan Yang Daoist placed a seal on me. He won’t allow me to bear His Majesty’s child…”

“Why?” Xie Shu asked.

“Because he has feelings for me. He’s jealous of His Majesty…” Qixue said softly.

Xie Shu’s expression remained unchanged. He had already anticipated that Xuan Yang and Qixue’s relationship was more than simple.

Stroking Qixue’s long hair, he asked, “Do you want to break Xuan Yang’s seal?”

“Yes…” Qixue’s eyes brightened briefly, then dimmed. “But… is it really possible?”

He didn’t believe Xie Shu’s power surpassed Xuan Yang’s. Though Xie Shu was this world’s child of destiny, according to the novel’s timeline, his strength hadn’t yet matched the Cave Abyss God Spirit—and slaying it was years away.

Unexpectedly, Xie Shu gave a firm affirmation: “Before you leave this room, I can erase Xuan Yang’s seal.”

Qixue’s eyes widened. “You’re not deceiving me?”

Xie Shu tapped his forehead lightly, infusing his domineering spiritual power. “I won’t deceive you. Breaking the seal requires your cooperation. I will nourish your body day and night with my Primordial Yang. Once the seal is broken, you will likely conceive my child immediately.”

He brought his handsome, aloof face close to Qixue’s until Qixue could clearly see his golden vertical pupils. “I will make you pregnant, Qixue. Are you willing?”

His breath brushed Qixue’s face. Qixue froze, his sorrow diluted, his neck flushing red.

“I…” He stammered, turning his face away to avoid Xie Shu’s gaze. “You’ve already infused me with your spiritual power. Do I even have a choice?”

“No.”

Xie Shu said, “Since you’re willing to bear children, you must bear mine.”

His kiss descended—first on Qixue’s trembling lashes, then his nose tip and cheeks, and finally a deep, entwining kiss.

Qixue wrapped his arms around Xie Shu’s broad back, yielding himself fully into his embrace.

He closed his eyes, tears sliding from the corners as he thought of Helan Ji, still bedridden and gravely ill. His heart ached terribly. He desperately wanted to break the Holy Monarch’s seal and bear a child for himself and His Majesty.

But if he conceived Xie Shu’s child, he would love that baby too. At least with it, Xie Shu wouldn’t annihilate the Demon Clan. How could he bear to let their baby be killed…

He wasn’t sure if, after breaking the seal, he could still conceive His Majesty’s child in time. If he returned to Dali Mountain without giving birth and the Holy Monarch discovered it, would he force an abortion?

His chaotic thoughts drowned in Xie Shu’s overwhelming kisses. Soon, Qixue had no energy left to ponder. Coping with Xie Shu alone consumed him entirely—his heart now held only Xie Shu.

Xie Shu scooped him up and carried him to the pill furnace amid swirling mists, adding a few spiritual herbs to it.

He tilted Qixue’s chin, making him look at the furnace. “The medicine is bitter. Sweeten it for Helan Ji—pour your milk into the furnace.”

Qixue’s face flushed crimson. “How am I supposed to… ah!”

Xie Shu stepped closer to the furnace. “Squeeze.”

Qixue shook his head, ears burning. “No… I’ve never heard of such an absurd pill-refining method…”

Xie Shu said, “If you don’t, I won’t seal the furnace. Every quarter-hour you delay, Helan Ji suffers a quarter-hour longer without his medicine.”

Threatened, Qixue felt both humiliated and furious, but he couldn’t bear to delay Helan Ji’s treatment. With no choice, he submitted grudgingly.

While he slept, his milk had replenished fully. A clever squeeze produced a thin stream.

Aiming into the furnace mouth was no easy task. Enduring his shame, Qixue tried several times, his hands coated in milk, before managing to add some. Only then did Xie Shu seal the furnace.

Xie Shu carried him back to the bed for endless lovemaking. Qixue clung to him dazedly, from day to night without pause. Thanks to the Fasting Pill, he needed no food and barely rested.

He felt like a lump of rabbit cheese—fragrant, sweet, soft, and fluffy. He didn’t need to think, only to make himself more delectable, pleasing the dragon’s palate until he melted into sweet rabbit milk. That was enough.

On the third day, Sang Chi finally arrived, his expression grave as he entered the courtyard.

He had learned of that night’s events. The demons had taken his silver but fled, so they owed him an explanation—otherwise, offending the young master of the all-seeing Spirit Fox Clan meant they could forget thriving in Great Yong.

Hua Nu was the last to flee and gave the most detail. She recounted how Qixue had drugged Xie Shu, how Xie Shu dragged Qixue inside—everything. She concluded, “I think those two are probably… mat…”

Before she could say “ing,” Sang Chi smashed his teacup, silencing her in fright.

Sang Chi understood that after entering the palace and becoming Noble Consort, Qixue couldn’t still be a virgin. Knowing it intellectually was one thing; witnessing it was another. He rushed to the courtyard, intent on extracting Qixue.

That night, the courtyard had been shrouded in immense, terrifying pressure. Sang Chi had never encountered such dreadful Demon Qi. His face paled, his steps faltering.

A prodigy among the young Demon Clan, renowned even as a Demon King’s son, he still couldn’t contend with it—nor could his father. The occupant was State Preceptor Xie Shu, so where had this Demon Qi come from?

Sang Chi didn’t know its source but sensed extreme danger.

It was a dire warning, laced with obsessive, possessive madness toward a mate. Anyone approaching would be slain for daring to covet his partner.

Sang Chi lingered at the courtyard gate, then swallowed a Secret Medicine to suppress his aura and slipped inside silently.

The medicine failed. The moment he entered, he felt something lock onto him.

His spine stiffened, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Gritting his teeth, he pressed deeper until he reached the window, intending to peek through the paper.

“Creeeak…”

The window slid open slightly, revealing a narrow gap. Sang Chi’s face darkened further—not by his hand. The occupant hadn’t killed him and even permitted viewing.

He took a deep breath, bowed his head, and peered through.

A cloyingly sweet fragrance hit him. Heavy curtains draped down; he could see little.

Then a snow-white hand emerged from behind, clutching the curtain tightly, accompanied by a pitiable voice: “Husband, no—no deeper… ah!”

Sang Chi recognized the voice—familiar yet strange, laced with unmistakable pleasure.

He shuddered violently, slammed the window shut, and fled the courtyard in disarray, his heart aching like a knife twist.

Though the Spirit Fox Clan was promiscuous by nature, he was different—not one for casual flings. He had remained chaste all these years, waiting for a certain dumb rabbit to wise up. Losing his virginity would surely disgust that rabbit, ruining any chance.

Nearly every demon on Dali Mountain knew he liked Qixue—except Qixue, who saw him as a rival.

It was his own fault, not Qixue’s obliviousness. He couldn’t bring himself to show affection, always bickering.

From their first meeting, they clashed. He had hated Qixue then, eager to drive him from Dali Mountain. But time bred affection; he gradually fell for him. Yet habit kept him combative, too proud to fawn.

Regretful? Always—and now it peaked.

Qixue was soft-hearted. Had Sang Chi changed earlier, treated him kindly, Qixue might not love him but at least wouldn’t ignore his feelings, leaving him behind on Dali Mountain.

That night, Sang Chi left in a daze. By the third day, he returned—Qixue had been absent too long. Worried, he had to see him.

He had accepted Qixue’s intimacy with other men. As a demon—Spirit Fox no less—he could handle it.

But it didn’t mean he’d seek others. He’d guard his purity for Qixue. Even if rejected, his heart was taken. Demons lived long; perhaps one day, Qixue would accept him.

He entered the courtyard again. The terrifying Demon Qi had mostly dissipated, but he still felt watched. Any wrong move, and he’d be torn apart.

This time, Sang Chi no longer hesitated. Instead, he strode firmly to the window and called out Qixue’s name loudly: “Qixue, I’ve come. Are you there? I’m here to take you back.”