Chapter 22: Jiang Chen: When I Realized I Could Never Go Back…

In the days that followed, Jiang Chen buried himself in administrative duties as usual.

The newly established Demon Bright was in the midst of a boom, with countless demon immortals migrating en masse. Everywhere, families were settling down and construction was underway on a massive scale.

As a result, disputes arose daily—neighbors quarreling over property lines and courtyard orientations, merchants in the markets fighting tooth and nail for the best stalls.

As city lord, Jiang Chen had to adjudicate land boundaries, oversee commerce, and mediate all sorts of conflicts. He was so busy that he had no time to think about anything else.

By the end of that year, Drunk Moon City had finally taken shape. The streets were orderly, and businesses thrived.

Jiang Chen’s outstanding achievements earned him another commendation from the Demon King.

…

Though the Demon Bright had forged its own path and carved out a new domain, the demon immortals had dwelled in the Mortal Realm for millennia. Human customs and festivals had long woven themselves into their blood.

Soon enough, Drunk Moon City buzzed with winter year-end celebrations, spring Cold Food Festival, Mid-Autumn moon worship…

The same long streets now featured golden sugar syrup dragon-and-phoenix candy paintings and steaming crab roe soup dumplings fresh from the steamer. Come the next year’s Flower Morning Festival, the banks of the Drunk Moon River were packed under the night sky with demon immortals clutching lotus lanterns, waiting to make their wishes.

The moonlight melted into the water, bridges arching gracefully over the waves.

Thousands of lotus lanterns drifted downstream, their warm yellow candlelight shimmering on the river’s surface like a cascade of stars.

As city lord, Jiang Chen strolled to the riverbank amid a throng of admirers.

“City Lord, City Lord!” A little demon immortal with twin buns was hoisted high by her father, straining to hand him a snowy white rabbit lantern. “Here’s a flower lantern for you—put it in the river and make a wish!”

Jiang Chen took it in a daze.

His fingertips brushed the smooth bamboo frame and paper, and in a haze, he was back at the Luo River banks two years prior, during the Flower Morning Festival.

That had been the first time in his life he’d set a river lantern afloat.

The neat lotus lantern should have been easy to launch. But he fumbled clumsily, and it veered off course not far from shore, sinking into the black water.

“…”

He’d heard that if a lantern didn’t drift far, the gods couldn’t see it.

And the wish would never come true.

Lost in thought, someone shoved another lantern into his palm, her eyes sparkling with laughter, reflecting the starry sky. “Take mine. Try again.”

“This time, it’ll work for sure!”

Two years later, Jiang Chen could no longer recall what wish he’d made back then. But he still remembered how that lantern drifted so very far—far enough to become a single spark on the horizon.

The second year, she revealed her true form—handing him a plump, goofy goose lantern after presenting her own little goose one.

That year, too, he forgot what wish he’d made or where the goose lantern went.

But he remembered the moonlight that night, exceptionally clear, softly veiling the myriad lanterns—which in turn glowed hazy and tender, outlining the smiling face beside him.

This was the third year.

He was no longer in the Mortal Realm. No old friends stood by his side.

Under the little demon immortal’s eager gaze, he simply bent down and gently set the rabbit lantern afloat on the river.

The snowy white rabbit lantern drifted farther and farther, but he couldn’t think of a single wish to make.

…

After the Flower Morning Festival, Jiang Chen’s insomnia grew worse.

Qin Shu and Qing Luo noticed and summoned several renowned physicians in succession. But beyond advising him to “rest the mind and worry less,” the doctors could offer no real explanation.

Something seemed perpetually knotted in his heart, impossible to unravel.

But what could it be?

Drunk Moon City was thriving in peace and harmony. The city lord’s residence overflowed with fine clothes and delicacies. Everything was going smoothly; he lacked for nothing.

That day, while reviewing documents, he came across an application from a merchant caravan of demon immortal hybrids seeking permission to procure goods in the Unstained Immortal Realm.

In recent months, the Demon Bright had tightened external travel. Drunk Moon City’s monthly outbound quotas had been slashed by more than half. Jiang Chen scanned their procurement list—nothing but ordinary fabrics and herbs, hardly essential…

He was about to reject it.

But his vermilion brush hovered, then—on second thought—he scrawled an “Approved.”

A caravan that frequented the Unstained Immortal Realm would surely cross paths with the renowned Zhao Clan Three Realms Trade Consortium…

He lowered his gaze.

The Zhao Clan Merchant Guild is practically rivaling kingdoms in wealth there. Zhao Lixuan’s elder brother is the head of the Three Realms Crossroads Trading Company.

It wasn’t concern, exactly.

He just wanted to confirm if his old acquaintance was faring well. Nothing more.

After all, they’d known each other once.

…

That night, Jiang Chen worked until the third watch, utterly exhausted in body and mind.

Bone-tired, he tossed and turned on his bed in a drowsy haze, yet sleep eluded him.

Incense for calming the mind and sleep-inducing tonics proved useless. Irritation flared, and he simply threw on a robe, sitting alone in the courtyard until dawn broke, punishing himself through the long night.

The morning mist still lingered as he ascended the city tower for patrol.

The gates had just opened at dawn; no travelers stirred in the biting chill. Only a golden-haired demon immortal in brocade finery approached from afar, directing the loading of three carriages with household goods—like a family on the move.

Spotting Jiang Chen paused on the tower, staring down darkly, the demon immortal actually approached with a brilliant smile.

“City Lord, good morning! You look so haggard—didn’t sleep a wink last night, did you?”

Chu Fusheng.

Jiang Chen had handled a few romantic scandals involving the man—a notorious layabout in Drunk Moon City, handsome but useless otherwise. His looks had racked up plenty of romantic debts, making him a headache.

If this troublemaker was moving out, that was good news.

As Jiang Chen pondered, Chu Fusheng warmly clasped his hands, feigning sorrow.

“City Lord, parting today—who knows when I’ll meet another official as perceptive and just as you! He dabbed at nonexistent tears. Alas, my parents are in the Mortal Realm. If I don’t go now, it might be too late. I must bid you a painful farewell.”

Jiang Chen frowned. “Too late? What do you mean?”

“Ah, you haven’t heard, City Lord?”

Chu Fusheng feigned surprise. “No official decree yet, but word’s spreading privately—the Demon Bright’s only link to the Mortal Realm, Cloud’s Edge Path, used to just scrutinize letters. But these past months, every letter and package has been seized outright. Not one gets through!”

“Merchant permits are harder to get too. Everyone’s whispering that the Demon Bright is gradually sealing off contact with the Mortal Realm and Unstained Immortal Realm entirely. Some even say the Demon Sovereign plans to sever the Three Realms’ spirit veins, cutting ties forever—independent for eternity!”

“If that’s true, I’ll never get back to the Mortal Realm! Of course I’m hurrying home!”

…What alarmist nonsense.

Jiang Chen’s brows knitted tight.

If it were that serious, the Demon Capital would have sent secret missives to the twelve city lords first. In his position, he hadn’t heard a whisper—so it was just street gossip.

Besides, how could the Demon Bright sever its own spirit veins?

Heaven and earth’s cycles followed natural laws; the Three Realms’ fortunes were interdependent. True, conflicts arose between them, but the Mortal Realm had endured cycles of rise and fall over centuries, and the Unstained Immortal Realm had weathered spirit declines over millennia—all sustained by the mutual flow of the Three Realms’ spirit veins.

Forcibly isolating them might dodge shared ruin temporarily, but when one’s own fortunes waned, it’d be a lone tree against the storm, cutting off all aid.

The Demon Court’s countless elders and experts surely understood this.

They’d never make such an absurd choice as sealing the realm.

…

Yet many commoners bought into the rumors.

That day wasn’t just Chu Fusheng—several other demon immortal families packed up and left. Some had just bought prime properties and flipped them in haste, which struck Jiang Chen as needless fuss.

Drunk Moon City never restricted coming or going, and as city lord, he wouldn’t stop them.

Still, too many rumors disturbed the peace. Fortunately, a few days later, inspectors from the Demon Capital arrived to audit governance. During the reception, Jiang Chen specifically asked the officials about it.

They were candid: rumors yes, but no such plans from the Demon Capital.

The chief inspector stroked his beard with a chuckle. “No need to worry, City Lord Jiang. Just ignorant folk fretting over nothing, rumors snowballing.”

…

Sealing the realm was baseless, but intercepted letters were real.

The chief inspector, a close friend of Cloud Cliff City’s lord, admitted that for months, all inbound and outbound mail had been held outside Cloud Cliff City. Piles upon piles.

Without Demon Capital approval, not one had been released.

Half a year…

Jiang Chen’s grip on his cup faltered almost imperceptibly.

What if…

What if my replies never even left the Demon Bright? Not that they’d been received and ignored.

What if… he’s been writing all this time, and every letter’s stuck outside Cloud Cliff City?

The thought made his breath hitch.

Could it be?

The chief inspector, wrapping up official business, planned a few days’ rest to visit his old friend. Jiang Chen seized the chance, citing a border governance inspection, and tagged along.

Cloud Cliff City’s lord, Mo Qing, was an excellent host, warmly receiving his old friend and the uninvited Drunk Moon City Lord.

The next morning, he personally led them to tour Cloud Cliff Path beyond the Three Realms Gate.

The “Three Realms Gate” was a collective term, really.

To be precise, the Mortal Realm entrance was called Red Dust Ferry, the Unstained Immortal Realm’s Azure Cloud Pass. Beyond Red Dust Ferry stretched an ancient path; before Azure Cloud Pass loomed towering buildwood trees, with roiling ninefold cloud seas, upstream heavenly rivers, and Moon Haze Hollow’s fog-shrouded forks—the chaotic borderlands all lumped as the Three Realms Gate.

Even the Demon Bright’s “entrance,” being new, lacked a name. Proximity to Cloud Cliff City made folks call it “Cloud Cliff Gate,” and the path outside “Cloud Cliff Path.”

…

Now, Cloud Cliff Path was wreathed in mist, reeds swaying thickly.

Mo Qing pointed to the reeds, where letters and packages were stacked neatly by date—yet vast as a sea, endless to the eye. He sighed helplessly. “See for yourselves—this can’t go on.”

“Not allowed delivery, not permitted return. Just sitting here. Who knows what the Demon Capital’s thinking?”

“Thank the Three Realms Gate’s unique spirit energy—even fresh provisions don’t spoil easily. Otherwise…”

“…”

Jiang Chen stood silent a moment, then—compelled by impulse—spoke. “Perhaps… I have letters here too. May I… take a look?“

He felt ridiculous even saying it.

Absurd as it was, ignoring his colleagues’ startled glances, he bent and rummaged through a nearby pile.

Fingertips grazed unfamiliar names. It was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

But what if…

What if the next one I open is…

Of course, after a long search, he found nothing.

Beyond the reeds outside Cloud Cliff Gate stood a solitary colossal ancient tree. Its trunk took ten people to encircle, gnarled branches like a dragon’s claws. The whole tree was festooned with colorful ribbons, bells, and wooden plaques that chimed endlessly in the breeze.

Passing under it, the city lord explained, “These ribbons and plaques are from immortals heading back to the Mortal Realm lately—tokens of their longing.”

“…”

Having found no letters, Jiang Chen idly plucked a nearby plaque. It was Chu Fusheng’s poem:

“Not that Fusheng takes parting lightly—aged parents call me home. Drunk Moon City’s pear-blossom snow—when shall I return to sing its praises?”

“…”

But before he finished reading, a sharp whoosh pierced the sky—

Dozens of streaks of light burst through the clouds. The leader rode a sword through the air, followed by Xuanjia forbidden troops like a dark storm cloud. In moments, they’d sealed Cloud Cliff Path watertight.

The sword-riding herald thrust a gold-embossed decree before Cloud Cliff City’s lord, voice booming:

“Cloud Cliff City Lord Mo Qing, hear this! By Demon Sovereign decree: To safeguard the Demon Bright’s eternal peace, the realm seals itself from this day—severing all Three Realms contact forever. Cloud Cliff Ancient Path closes immediately. No mistakes!”

The forbidden troops swiftly took control. As Mo Qing moved to protest, the lead general pressed his sword to him. “This is the Demon Sovereign’s personal decree. Defy it, and face charges of realm treason!”

It all happened too fast.

In an instant, the black-armored forbidden troops scaled the walls of Cloud Cliff City and activated the realm-sealing grand array. Ancient, heavy mechanisms groaned to life, runes flowing like coiling chains. With a deafening boom, the massive stone gate of Cloud Cliff descended ponderously.

The demon immortals who had been lingering near the gate erupted into chaos.

Many of them had brought their families along, terrified they might never return to the Mortal Realm—yet when they reached the Three Realms Gate, hesitation gripped them.

They had dawdled like this for days. Now, seeing the Demon Bright truly about to sever ties with the Mortal Realm forever, they surged toward the gate like madmen.

Screams and shoving filled the air. A carriage jammed in the closing gate, its cargo spilling everywhere. A little girl was knocked down by the crowd, on the verge of being trampled.

Jiang Chen’s dark figure flashed forward. He scooped the child into his arms and handed her back to her parents.

The Cloud Cliff City Lord pleaded urgently, “My lords, please make an exception—just for a moment! At least let these common folk out! Their parents, wives, and children are all in the Mortal Realm…”

“City Lord,” the forbidden army leader drew his sword three inches from its sheath, “the decree has been issued—no delays permitted!”

The Cloud Cliff City Lord grew frantic. “I am the border city lord! For something as monumental as sealing the realm, you don’t notify me in advance and instead send troops to take over? This is utterly unreasonable!”

The leader ignored him, barking harshly, “Enough—stand aside! The Demon Sovereign’s edict is here. If you obstruct further, don’t blame me for being rude… Lord Jiang, what are you doing?!”

Jiang Chen said nothing. Black flames surged from his palm like an ink dragon writhing, demonic power burning fiercely as he forced back the thousand-jin stone gate. Enraged, the forbidden army leader unleashed his spiritual power in a torrent. A beam of golden light slashed straight down.

Jiang Chen met it with a single palm. Black and gold spiritual lights clashed violently in the narrowing gap.

In that fleeting moment, countless demon immortals showered him with thanks, dragging their children along as they squeezed through the gap Jiang Chen strained to hold open, fleeing back to the Mortal Realm!

The next instant, the forbidden troops formed up and closed in. The leader roared, “Lord Jiang, cease this at once! Are you defying the decree—rebelling?!”

But Jiang Chen turned a deaf ear.

In that moment, he didn’t even know why he was doing this.

His heart pounded fiercely, his fingertips burned. Even with the array’s immense pressure bearing down like a thousand jun, he gritted his teeth and held the Three Realms Gate’s final sliver of opening—

As if he was doing it for those demon immortals, so their families wouldn’t be torn apart, flesh and blood separated.

But also, as if it was for something else.

Instinct alone told him: he couldn’t let this gate fall shut like this. Otherwise, some vital thread in his life—something crucially important—seemed like it would be severed along with it.

But what was it?

He didn’t know.

The array’s pressure mounted heavier and heavier. His knuckles whitened, veins bulging. The gap narrowed to barely enough for a body to slip sideways. The last demon immortals shed all their worldly possessions and charged into that fading sliver of heavenly light.

In one instant, Jiang Chen felt a sudden urge to go with them.

But why?

In the Mortal Realm… he had no family.

No one he longed for, no lingering ties.

No lights waiting for him there.

Why?

Boom—!

The stone gate slammed shut completely, the thunderous crash shaking the earth. That final thread of light vanished in a heartbeat.

Heaven and earth fell eerily silent, save for the buzzing roar of blood pounding in his ears.

His heart thundered; the world spun.

For a split second, Jiang Chen saw a broken paper kite drifting toward the ashen sky, fluttering aimlessly without anchor. The next, it was as if he’d stepped off a ten-thousand-zhang cliff, plummeting endlessly.

“Eternal severance of passage between the Three Realms.” Those six words echoed relentlessly in his mind.

He struggled to steady himself, staring blankly at the sealed gate. Sudden panic flooded his limbs like a tidal wave, only to ebb moments later into bone-deep chill.