The rain in the Demon Bright never stopped.
“Immortal Lord Li Xuan, this actually isn’t our first meeting.”
The downpour stretched on endlessly, shrouding the entire Drunk Moon City in a misty veil of water vapor. Rain cascaded from the glazed tile eaves, splashing fine droplets across the bluestone streets.
Jiang Chen’s old acquaintance from his days in the Demon Bright—Duan Shuheng, son of the Demon Chancellor—beamed with the excitement of reuniting with an old friend. “Do you remember me? Back at that auction house in the Mortal Realm, you Covered All Offers and snatched the Frost White Jade Flute I had my heart set on?”
Over a decade had passed since then, when they had both been extravagant young playboys who threw gold around like it was nothing.
But now, they were far from who they had been. Duan Shuheng had completely broken ties with his father, the Demon Chancellor who wielded great power, and had raised a resistance army called Dawnbreaker on his own in the Demon Bright. The Dawnbreaker Army clashed constantly with the Demon Sovereign’s forces, who colluded with the Demon Clan, landing him at the top of the Demon Bright’s most-wanted list year after year.
Even his appearance had changed.
The once jade-like noble young master now bore a vicious scar running from his brow bone down to his jaw.
But he didn’t care at all. His laugh carried a ragged edge, making him look every bit the bandit chieftain.
“No choice but to rebel,” he said.
“I wanted nothing more than to live a life of idle luxury, but the Demon Sovereign insisted on allying with the Demon Clan…”
“If we didn’t fight back, letting them run rampant, then one day the Immortal Clan would spit on us Demon Immortals as ‘traitors to the Immortal Realm’ and ‘Demon Clan lapdogs’—fit only to be slaughtered. Wouldn’t that doom every Demon Immortal to bear the stain of betrayal forever?”
“Not just heirs like me would suffer—even those law-abiding Demon Immortals in the Mortal Realm would be dragged down! How could we ever stand in the Three Realms then? It’d be cutting ourselves off from the Immortal Clan entirely.”
“Oh, right—did you run into Mo Qing on the Unstained Immortal Realm battlefield?
“That kid and the Demon Immortals from Cloud Cliff City were all forcibly conscripted. If you see them, go easy!”
“Sigh, look at this absurd world! Kin slaying kin, those who refuse war dragged to the front lines. If this keeps up, the realms will descend into total chaos!”
…
With the Demon Bright severed from the Three Realms, returning to the Unstained Immortal Realm via Azure Cloud Pass was impossible.
Fortunately, Drunk Moon City was now under Dawnbreaker Army control, and Jiang Chen had once been its most beloved city lord.
“No need to worry—just wait half a day!” Duan Shuheng said smugly. “Luckily, I planned ahead. While the Demon Capital built their grand teleportation array all these years, I secretly pooled the whole city’s resources to build a smaller one.”
He patted his chest. “It can’t move an army, but sending you two back to the Unstained Immortal Realm? Piece of cake. Rest easy and heal—leave everything to me.”
“Immortal Leader Duan.” The rain roared, and Zhao Lixuan’s voice was still hoarse from his injury. “Has the pure spiritual energy of the Demon Bright… been tainted? Something feels off to me.”
Ever since fleeing with Jiang Chen from the Demon Capital to Drunk Moon City, Zhao Lixuan had felt increasingly wrong.
There was always this indescribable heaviness, like a massive boulder crushing his heart—like the endless gloom of this rain, dark, damp, and oppressive.
At least his mind remained clear.
That was why, when he caught himself endlessly replaying thoughts of Jiang Fu and all those old events, he found it utterly ridiculous.
This isn’t right.
Duan Shuheng’s words soon confirmed his suspicions. “Immortal Lord Li Xuan, you’re as sharp as ever.”
“Ever since news leaked of the Demon Sovereign colluding with the Demon Clan, rebellion stirred across the Demon Bright—even mutinies broke out in the royal guard. To crush the righteous armies back then, the Demon Capital actually introduced demonic qi into the realm itself.”
“As a result, for over a decade straight up to now, the rain in the Demon Bright has been laced with demonic qi. This tainted rain corrodes the mind, making people prone to anger, suspicion, obsession, and drastic personality shifts… Old grudges and inner demons get endlessly amplified.”
“The good news? Most Demon Immortals swayed by the tainted rain have already sided with the Demon Sovereign.”
“Those left standing now are the ones with iron wills. Over the years, many who were first affected but later built tolerance and woke up have joined our Dawnbreaker Army—that’s how we’ve gained our current momentum.”
“But Immortal Lord Li Xuan, you’re new here, and you’ve spent so long in the pure air of the Unstained Immortal Realm, so you’re naturally more vulnerable to the demonic qi…”
“Rest assured, though—the tainted rain scrambles the mind but doesn’t harm your core.”
“Get a good night’s sleep, breathe some pure qi back in the Unstained Immortal Realm tomorrow, and you’ll recover in days.”
“Here, take a Pure Heart Soul-Guarding Pill. It’ll ensure you sleep soundly tonight with minimal interference. It’s a secret recipe from our army—super effective. Take it without worry.”
But that night was anything but peaceful.
The storm raged like iron.
Raindrops hammered the roof deafeningly, and lightning cracked in the courtyard. Bolts of lightning tore through the night sky, bleaching the room ghostly white. Even with the pill, sleep wouldn’t come.
Zhao Lixuan gave up and rose to listen to the rain by the window.
“Li Xuan…”
In the haze, the door seemed to knock, the sound distant and faint amid the gale.
Then, in an instant, the door flew open. Wind and rain surged in with biting chill. The visitor slipped inside and slammed the door shut.
Jiang Chen was drenched head to toe, his face pale as paper, looking like a drowned ghost fished from the river.
This was Pear Blossom Drunk Moon City.
It should have been filled with drifting pear blossoms and wine banners fluttering in the streets. Now, the blossoms were beaten down by the torrent, mashed into the mud—only their rain-stirred fragrance assaulted the senses all the more intensely.
The strange scent eroded his mind. Zhao Lixuan clung to his last shred of clarity—
This is twenty years later.
The rain scoured everything, unrelenting.
People said that if hate lingered, some sliver of love remained. But he didn’t even have hate anymore.
Even now, assailed by the tainted rain’s murk, his mood depressed, his whole being twisted by years of damp rot and strangeness… he still couldn’t muster a trace of hatred.
No hate—just forgotten.
Then, abruptly, thunder crashed, and something solid inside him shattered, crumbling apart.
Little Jiang… is afraid of thunder.
Strange—I should have forgotten that long ago. Besides, Jiang Chen seems so sharp and aloof; he doesn’t look like the type to fear something like this. But in this moment, memory yanked him back to a stormy night twenty years prior.
That day, Jiang Chen—who always burned the midnight oil studying—returned to his room unusually early and silently curled into bed.
Zhao Lixuan had found it odd and asked what was wrong. Jiang Chen had only muttered, “Tired.”
It left Zhao Lixuan baffled. But the chance was rare, so he scooted close for a hug and a kiss. That night, Jiang Chen offered no resistance, letting him cuddle, kiss, and have his way.
It happened a few more times.
He gradually pieced it together. Little Jiang is so cute—looks ice-cold but fears thunder.
But those memories had sealed away too long.
So long that his youthful, reckless infatuation; his self-deluding passion; his heartbroken despair; and his scarred, healed wounds had all faded… So why should they surge up again on this night, years later?
Gale-force wind and rain battered the loosely latched window, the wooden frame groaning on the verge of snapping.
He watched Jiang Chen turn and securely fasten the shutters.
That back evoked twenty years ago, as if they’d never parted. Reason scoffed, mocking how potent this tainted rain was—to dredge up stubborn regrets, lingering dreams, and unresolved aches that should have been uprooted long ago.
In this moment, Zhao Lixuan wanted to ask.
Wanted to murmur to someone—
If I no longer love you, why do the old grievances still bubble up, flood in, and drown my breath?
Lightning flashed, thunder boomed.
Jiang Chen finally secured the window and turned—only to freeze on the spot.
Zhao Lixuan stood right behind him.
His eyes were terrifyingly red, fixed on him. Those eyes, calm and mild after twenty years—or occasionally smiling—now stared without veil or restraint, brimming with grievance and accusation.
He bit back, endured… but couldn’t stop his ragged breaths fracturing into broken sobs, faint as tears amid the storm.
Jiang Chen’s chest took a heavy blow; he felt instantly weightless.
He stood stunned for a moment as bone-deep pain spread from his heart, laced with an indescribable sour ache, bitterness, and panic. He’d seen this man bright and bold, or breezy and detached—but never so aggrieved and helpless.
“Li Xuan…”
He gripped Zhao Lixuan’s shoulders, knuckles whitening.
It looked like he meant to embrace him, but really, he desperately needed something to prop up his crumbling self.
Amid disordered breaths, Zhao Lixuan’s voice trembled: “Little Jiang, back then… why did you treat me like that?”
His heart shattered like it had been viciously smashed, shards scattered and ground underfoot. Eyes and chest burned scalding hot. Jiang Chen approached with panicked caution, drawing him gently into his arms. “Li Xuan…”
“In your eyes, was I always just a joke? You thought I was stupid… a laughable playboy, ignorant and useless.”
“Never.”
“Li Xuan, never.”
“You were never willing a single day with me. You thought I was coercive, never liked me for a moment.”
“No, I liked you. Liked. Liked you the most.”
“But if you didn’t like me, you could have just said so. I wouldn’t have clung or chained you to me. Back then, I just… truly thought you were saying one thing but meaning another—that deep down, you were happy.”
“I was happy,” Jiang Chen gritted out, voice shaking. “Happy, Li Xuan…”
“You lied to me!” The man in his arms surged with agitation, laced with confusion. “You said it yourself—you were never happy, never liked me from start to finish. If you didn’t like me, why give me hope? I gave you my all back then—how did you see me?”
“As pathetically ridiculous? Some filthy thing? Or utterly repulsive?”
“No,” Jiang Chen’s chest seized in agony, voice nearly failing. “Please, I beg you—don’t say that.”
“You must have… found me unworthy, despicable. Otherwise, why treat me that way?”
“It hurt so much, every day heartbroken and miserable. That was my first time—first heartbeat in my life, first time liking someone. Just liking you—why treat me like that…”
For the first time, he broke like this, sobbing in gasps, breaths ragged and disjointed.
Jiang Chen hunched over, hands icy cold, clamping him tight in his arms, throat choked silent.
His cold collar soaked through with scalding tears.
Thunder crashed again, and they collapsed to the floor in each other’s arms. Jiang Chen watched the once-brightest youth, stripped of all pretense, sobbing openly and raw: “Now it’s fine… I don’t want to see you anymore.”
“I’ve forgotten you. I don’t like you anymore.”
“Even if you’re good to me now, help me find my brother—I’ll just think it’s revenge. I won’t believe you again. These twenty years… it’s not like no one liked me, or treated me well.”
“But I don’t know how to like someone anymore. I don’t. I forgot how.”
“That year I turned eighteen…”
“That year, I shouldn’t have gone to the Mortal Realm.”
“I regret it. Shouldn’t have gone. I should have dragged Zhao Lanze to stay home with me. Then I wouldn’t have lost my brother, wouldn’t have met you. I never wanted to meet you. We should never have met.”
The rain outside poured without end, eternal.
Jiang Chen was voiceless, his heart drowned in endless, bottomless despair.
The world’s cruelest, most chaotic, absurd, maddest torment was this: him flayed by a thousand cuts, guilt richly deserved—yet still, he couldn’t help but clutch this man fiercely, kissing his salt-sour tear tracks.
Madder still, Zhao Lixuan offered no resistance.
This kiss differed from any before, tasting of rust and rain—briny, ice-cold.
Jiang Chen kissed him once, but it wasn’t enough. He lingered for a second kiss, then a third, his heart surging, churning, aching with bitterness and desolation. In a haze, he kissed again and again without end. And Zhao Lixuan bit back fiercely.
In that moment, endless thoughts roiled, blending into a chaotic mess amid the stupor.
No love. I stopped loving long ago. Even kissing the little Jiang Chen from back then brought no flutter to his heart now. It was still as deathly silence—everything had come too late.
Yet amid that utter desolation, something inexplicable was quietly cracking, shattering, sprouting forth.
This is what he deserves…
In the chaos, only this absurd, stubborn thought grew clearer: This is what he deserves. What Zhao Lixuan from twenty years ago deserved. What that year’s little Jiang Chen owed him.
After all those years, it was finally this man’s turn to kiss him, to say he loved him.
That’s fair.
That’s only fair…
Thunder boomed, swallowing all sounds.
Jiang Chen’s heart twisted like a knife, lingchi-ed in agony, like dust settling with no room for turning back. Only after a long while did he find his voice: “I’ll give it back to you.”
“Everything you lost, I’ll give it all back.”
He held the man tightly. In truth, he’d noticed since their reunion that Zhao Lixuan was even thinner than before—his shoulder blades dug painfully into him. But despite the pain, he hugged even tighter.
The man in his arms had vented his emotions and was now spent. The Pure Heart Soul-Guarding Pill he’d taken earlier was taking effect, and he leaned against Jiang Chen’s chest, drifting into drowsy sleep.
Jiang Chen held him close, stroking the back of his neck like one might pet a cat. Amid the rumbling thunder, he kept murmuring, heedless of whether Zhao Lixuan could hear.
“I, back then, didn’t dislike you.”
“I liked you.”
“I liked you very much.”
“It was just… I didn’t understand. I was just… so scared…”
He murmured on, knowing it was all in vain, greedily inhaling that familiar warm scent at his neck. Over those twenty long years, how many times had he relived this embrace in dreams, only to wake to bone-chilling emptiness?
Now it was no illusion, yet it still felt like sand slipping through his fingers, ready to vanish at any moment.
Jiang Chen clutched futilely, his eyes brimming with thick sorrow.
“I never liked Jiang Fu. I always saw her as a sister.” Not even a real sister—he shared no true blood with her, nor did he know what sibling affection truly meant. He simply cared for her extra because she was their adoptive father’s daughter, out of gratitude for his kindness.
“I only love you.”
“Lixuan, I’ve only ever liked you.”
The world was bitter—at least for him—cold and lonely.
He was so foolish, not knowing what to do, pouring all his effort into grasping that one shred of warmth. But he’d grabbed wrong, seizing illusions instead, while pushing away the true warmth as too scorching, too burning.
“Believe me.”
“Lixuan, believe me.”
“Just believe me once, alright?”
…
But the man in his arms had already fallen asleep.
And the Pure Heart Pill’s effects were strong; even until the next morning, they hadn’t fully worn off.
With the grand formation ready, Jiang Chen carefully scooped him up and headed to the city outskirts with Duan Shuheng.
To his surprise, almost the entire population of Drunk Moon City had turned out. In the faint morning light, Demon Immortals crowded both sides of the long streets, their gazes earnest and warm.
“City Lord, it’s been years since we last met—seeing you safe and well is wonderful!”
“City Lord, this way, please!”
“City Lord, this is a peace charm we wove ourselves. Take it for good luck. Stay safe on the battlefield!”
Jiang Chen was momentarily at a loss.
They had fought their way out through demon hordes to flee to Drunk Moon City, and now in leaving, the city would surely face the Demon Court’s retaliation—perhaps bringing calamity upon these Demon Immortals. Yet here they were, offering food baskets and jars of wine to see him off.
Duan Shuheng: “Don’t worry. With the Dawnbreaker Army here, we’ll protect everyone. Leave it to me.”
“City Lord, go with peace of mind! We’re not afraid of the Demon Court traitors!”
“Back then, it was the City Lord who took us in, built workshops for us, repaired irrigation channels, and set up schools.”
“City Lord, I go to the Scripture Pavilion you built every day!”
“My house was approved by you, City Lord, and you even hosted my wedding!”
Gazing at these sincere faces, Jiang Chen’s throat tightened.
Why? He still didn’t understand. Though when the Demon Bright was newly established and he held the position of Drunk Moon City Lord, he’d given his all—yet it had only been a short two years.
Two years.
So, two years’ time was enough for the entire city’s people to remember his kindness even after so many years.
Yes.
He lowered his gaze, cradling the heavy weight in his arms even tighter. In truth, he and Lixuan’s time together back then had also been just two years.
Two years’ light was enough to sustain loving someone for twenty years afterward. He knew that better than anyone.
“Thank you, everyone.”
