32 My Arch-Nemesis Cried and Begged Me Not to Die 19p3

By the time I made a name for myself in the immortal sects, he was already a demonic cultivation prodigy, his infamy known throughout the lands. Our paths crossed at the height of our respective powers. We fought over the Endless Sea for ten days and ten nights. He shattered my Golden Core; I pierced his Spiritual Abode.

Neither of us came out ahead.

He was spirited away by the guardians of the Demonic Realm. After a century in seclusion, he re-emerged as the new Demon Lord—a name that made all who heard it tremble.
As for me, I dragged my broken, ailing body into obscurity, eking out a meager existence in a small, unknown sect, with only a few years left to live.

We met again at a bustling Grand Cultivation Assembly. Countless old acquaintances failed to recognize me, but he spotted me in an instant. Without hesitation, he sent a palm strike flying my way.

With a sickening thud, I was sent flying, vomiting blood, and I fainted on the spot.

When I opened my eyes, he was standing over me, his expression thunderous. "How did you become such a waste?!"

Between wracking coughs that felt like they were tearing my ruined lungs apart, I managed to roll my eyes. "Just as you wished. I'm dying."

He refused to accept it. He went to incredible lengths to retrieve my long-lost sword, insisting I fight him one more time. Forced to comply, I took it. With a loud clang, the once-familiar blade slipped from my hand and fell to the ground.

His eyes widened in shock. I met his gaze, unflinching.

That's right. I can't even hold a sword anymore.

I had long since accepted my fate, but he refused to give up. He became obsessed, forcing priceless immortal elixirs down my throat, searching realms for miracle workers to heal me. While he was at it, he even annihilated the old enemies who had massacred my clan.

I was a little touched. "You're being so good to me. Don't tell me you've fallen for me?"

"Bullshit!" His face twisted. "I just want to beat you fair and square again! Yan Jingyu, if you're going to die, you can only die at my hands!"

As my final day drew nearer, he grew so anxious he couldn't sleep at night, his hair falling out in clumps.
Meanwhile, I ate well and slept soundly. I spent my days strolling through his demonic palace, teasing the local demons and monsters, and lazily awaiting my end.

With half a year left, I saw him sitting on the roof, staring blankly into the distance. I stood below and opened my arms. "Hey! Get me up there!"

He glanced at me, and for once, his usual ferocious cruelty was gone. Wordlessly, he lifted me up with a wave of his hand.

I settled down beside him and, as cheekily as ever, used the nickname he despised. "Liao Xiao Mei*, I'm really dying. You should stop wasting your..."

[Translator's Note: The nickname "Liao Xiao Mei" literally means "Liao Little Beauty," a very feminine and demeaning name for a powerful Demon Lord.]

Before I could finish, this infamous lord of an entire realm lowered his head, and tears began to fall like rain.

Me: "..."

Wait, no— Fine! I'll train properly, okay? I'll do my best to get back to my peak before I die and give you that satisfying fight you want!

Hey, hey, hey, just stop crying already...