Chapter 80

Endless twilight swallowed the surrounding wilderness, with thick black clouds rolling amid the inky darkness. But for the two of them, this was no open space.

Wen Liuhe stretched out his arm, spreading his five fingers against the pitch-black cliff wall, propping up a cramped and oppressive shadowy area. His upward gaze was cold yet pleased as he gradually tightened his grip on Shen Yu.

The moment Wen Liuhe revealed his true appearance, the Evil-Exorcising Sword nearly instantly drew itself from the sword bone in his spine. With a flash of cold light, the sharp and icy blade pressed mercilessly against Wen Liuhe’s shoulder.

Then a broken sword flew out, swiftly knocking the blade away. Amid the clash, it emitted a clear, ringing sound of striking steel.

Shen Yu’s brows furrowed.

There was no light around them. The moon, obscured by clouds, outlined a silent silhouette, its pale glow sprinkling down like clear radiance. Shen Yu’s lips pressed downward slightly as he silently watched the man before him.

After touching the mad possessiveness in Wen Liuhe’s eyes, Shen Yu’s gaze blurred for an instant.

In that instant, through those eyes, he seemed to see them.

Shen Yu shook his head, flinging these unrealistic thoughts from his mind. With three thousand worlds and countless layers of time and space, how could it be the same person? This wasn’t his world, so it naturally had nothing to do with him.

Receiving no reply, Wen Liuhe narrowed his eyes slightly. A soft chuckle vibrated from his throat as he gripped Shen Yu’s ankle, moving it from his shoulder to the ground. His fingers not only didn’t loosen but pinched tighter, rubbing his ankle bone through the fabric.

At the same time, a strand of dark red, sticky Demonic Qi condensed from Wen Liuhe’s fingertips. It wound upward from the ankle, coiling around his calf.

Shen Yu quickly sensed the anomaly. The Demonic Qi penetrated the fabric, like an invisible hand caressing the supple and elastic skin of his calf.

Connecting this to Wen Liuhe’s earlier words and his current actions, Shen Yu’s heart sank deeper and deeper. He couldn’t understand how things had developed in this direction.

When the soul lamp extinguished, it meant either death or complete demonic corruption. Shen Yu had once imagined what scene their reunion might bring—drawing swords against each other, parting on a path to death, or a sword through the heart? And by then, could he still raise his sword again?

But he had never imagined it would be this kind of situation.

Wen Liuhe’s body brimmed with terrifying Demonic Qi, but what shocked Shen Yu even more was that when he tried to probe Wen Liuhe’s current cultivation with his divine sense, it was like a drop of water falling into the ocean—utterly unresponsive.

Various thoughts flashed through Shen Yu’s mind. He appeared relaxed in posture, but in reality, the muscles in his back tensed vigilantly against the cliff wall. The corner of his lips curved into a mocking arc as he feigned composure. “You’ve learned all these despicable tricks.”

He always wanted to teach him a lesson.

The man’s eyes darkened. “Why is Master changing the subject? Not answering my earlier question—does that mean you want to go back on your word?”

Wen Liuhe looked at him, his voice sinking as he continued, “Tch, this was the reward Master promised me.”

In the past, Wen Liuhe had disliked calling him Master the most, addressing him at most as Shifu. But now, when he was willing to use that title, the tone was indescribably strange—like teasing, or mocking, with not a shred of respect.

Each “Master” grated on the ears.

Shen Yu’s brows knitted. Suddenly, his arm shot out, fingers seizing Wen Liuhe’s neck and clamping down. His five fingers tightened instantly, lifting Wen Liuhe’s chin as he sneered, “So what if I go back on my word?”

Wen Liuhe’s gaze darkened.

One line of sight from above, one from below—their eyes drew infinitely closer.

The two swords fell to the ground beside them, their blades flowing with icy cold light, clearly reflecting their figures. The atmosphere was tense as drawn swords, entangled with surging love, hate, and desire.

His neck gripped tight by Shen Yu’s hand, thumb and forefinger pressing the bone at his chin to force Wen Liuhe’s head up, while the other three fingers pinched his carotid artery. His palm pressed against the neck, obstructing his breath.

Wen Liuhe, neck choked and chin tilted up, could only see the section of arm reaching toward him in his vision. From this angle, he couldn’t see the hand choking his neck.

But Wen Liuhe could imagine how those five fingers tightened around his neck bit by bit.

Cold, sexy, enticing without knowing it.

Shen Yu’s hands were beautiful—long fingers, evenly fleshed and fitted bones, full of strength. The finger joints were a clear pink like flower petals.

And when one hand clamped down hard on his neck, due to the exertion, the finger bones and back of the hand tensed into smooth arcs. The pale skin over the bones stretched taut, revealing faint blue veins on the back.

The pads pressing against his neck flushed even pinker from the pressure.

White, pink, blue.

More than suitable for choking his neck.

Wen Liuhe rolled his Adam’s apple up and down. After feeling the touch of Shen Yu’s palm, his breathing grew heavier, his eyes darkening further.

Wen Liuhe’s chest heaved heavily. Without any awareness of his life gate being held, he repeated Shen Yu’s words. “Go back on your word? Looks like Master isn’t any different from the others after all—just another promise-breaker.”

Shen Yu watched him, fingers tightening inch by inch as he mocked, “Wen Liuhe, my keeping of promises is for my disciples, my fellow sect members. You’re neither my fellow sect member nor my disciple. Why should I keep my word to a demon like you?”

The man’s voice was low and pleasant, ringing like celestial music when it hit the eardrums.

But every word from his mouth was like poison-dipped needles, stabbing one by one into Wen Liuhe’s heart and lungs.

It still hurt so much, just as it had before.

Having stayed too long in the Demon Domain, he had nearly forgotten this pain. Just when Wen Liuhe thought he had grown numb, the familiar ache stabbed again.

Wen Liuhe’s heart rate accelerated as he stared dead at Shen Yu.

Perfect.

That was what Wen Liuhe thought.

Back when Wen Liuhe had fallen into the Demon Domain through the rift, he had been on the verge of death. Spiritual Energy still lingered in his body, sending signals like punctuation marks. Various malicious entities pursued and blocked him, eager to devour him whole.

If not for his survival instinct and an obsession he couldn’t tell was love or hate, he might have become food for demons right at the start.

He sliced open his arm with a demonic blade, letting blood flow and releasing the last bit of Spiritual Energy in his body. He waded through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, killing his way out of the Cursed Mire that even demons dared not approach.

At that time, Wen Liuhe’s mind was empty save for one word—

Kill.

Those blocking his path, kill.

Those defying his will, kill.

The Demon Domain differed from the Cultivation World—it respected strength above all. The Sixteen Realms had never unified because no one could suppress all sixteen Demon Kings at once.

Three years ago, after unifying the Demon Domain, Wen Liuhe picked up a silver-haired clam demon.

The clam demon was named Yu Qi. When he found her, she was covered in wounds, barely breathing, her scarred arms clutching an empty clam shell protectively to her chest, refusing to let it be harmed.

Speaking of which, this clam demon had some connection to Wen Liuhe. The flower queen he had met as a youth in Riverside Town had been Yu Qi’s close friend.

Later, when Yu Qi told him that Chunqi had died saving her amid the conflict between their races, Wen Liuhe was stunned for a moment, feeling an absurd unreality. That cowardly, life-clinging demon’s final end was to die saving someone?

Wen Liuhe read too many stories in Yu Qi’s eyes, sensing their relationship wasn’t as simple as it seemed on the surface. But he had little interest, merely handing her a bowl of Forget-Love Water and saying to drink it—then all emotions would be forgotten.

The beautiful clam demon leaned against a red rock wall made of piled skulls in the Demon Domain. Perhaps because she had nothing left to lose, she didn’t fear Wen Liuhe like the other demons, not even daring to meet his eyes.

Hearing his words, Yu Qi let out a low laugh and countered, “If the Forget-Love Water worked on Your Excellency, wouldn’t you stop drinking it day after day? Everyone says it erases emotions, and many seek solutions here. But in truth, from the start, any love that can be forgotten wasn’t love at all, was it?”

Wen Liuhe had long known the Forget-Love Water was useless. Encountering someone insightful for once, he said a bit more. “Since love has no cure and can’t be obtained, getting the person instead doesn’t sound bad, does it?”

At his words, Yu Qi thought of something and laughed very softly. She shook her head and said, “Maybe there’s still a chance to gain love. If you miss it, there won’t be another.”

Wen Liuhe’s thoughts pulled back from that distant conversation. He looked at the man before him, the last trace of soft illusion in his heart extinguishing. It was only then that Wen Liuhe realized he had never truly given up.

When all hope turned to despair, Wen Liuhe suddenly felt an unprecedented pleasure surging in his heart.

Perfect, Master.

After all these years, you’re still the same—steadfast in your so-called righteous path, merciless and unyielding toward me.

Wen Liuhe propped his arms behind Shen Yu, straightening his waist and pressing his body closer, forcibly shortening the distance between them.

So close—close enough that Shen Yu could hear the man’s abnormally excited heartbeat.

As Wen Liuhe fell into darkness time and again, brushing past death repeatedly, he had both eagerly anticipated Shen Yu’s softness and deeply feared his change.

And now, looking at this man who had accompanied him from childhood to adulthood, even his fingers trembled with irrepressible excitement.

Thank you for not changing.

This way—

I won’t soften because of your kindness.

Nor loosen my grip because of your reluctance.

I’ll hold you tight and possess you completely and utterly.

The eerie strand of Demonic Qi on his calf wound up Shen Yu’s slim waist. An ominous premonition rose from Shen Yu’s heart, the hairs on his back standing on end. His hand choking Wen Liuhe’s neck tightened instinctively.

Suddenly, his waist went soft, and a strong drowsiness surged toward his mind.

“You—”

Shen Yu’s lashes trembled. His eyes widened, rare anger flashing in his brows and eyes. He had just spat out one word when heavy unconsciousness dragged his eyelids down the next second. In an instant, he plunged into darkness.

Wen Liuhe immediately reached out, steadily supporting Shen Yu’s lolling head. His other arm deftly slid under Shen Yu’s knees, horizontally scooping up the fainted man with premeditated ease.

He lowered his gaze to the man in his arms.

The clear, cold moonlight fell, draping his cheeks like silk. His jet-black lashes drooped low, all smiles and emotions fading from that long-yearned-for face.

Like a mortal doll.

Belonging to him alone.

So what if he couldn’t have love? Having this person surpassed all the past by a hundred—no, a thousandfold.

Wen Liuhe curved his lips in pleasure.

“It’s fine, Master. I’ll claim the reward from you myself.”

“I’ll lock you up, make you wag your tail and beg for mercy to me alone.”