Chapter 25: Zhao Lixuan, You Actually Have… You Actually Have… Part 2

So he did greater things—guarding the North Sea Eye, repelling the demon fish tide. Immortal Lord Jiang’s title grew louder; several border cities he saved even built shrines for him, incense burning day and night.

Yet it still wasn’t enough.

He’d make his name even louder, enough to shake the Three Realms.

Someday, teahouses and taverns in the Mortal Realm, cloud-top palaces in the Unstained Immortal Realm—everyone would sing of Sword-Holding Immortal Venerable Jiang Chen’s feats and might.

By then, the one he waited for… should remember him, right?

…

But year after year, the loofah vines greened and yellowed.

Sword-Wielding Immortal Lord was famed across the Three Realms, yet he remained forgotten, alone in this little courtyard.

Autumn to spring, frequent travels between realms. Xia Yunjie, Yu Rumu… virtually every notable Fu Xi Palace immortal lord had come to the Mortal Realm on business—some a few times, others over a dozen.

Jiang Chen thought, maybe next time…

There’d be a time when he finally came.

Finally, during Liao Yuan Court’s Moon Hunt, Fu Xi Palace sent their support list—and Immortal Lord Li Xuan was on it.

The Misty Crevice Abyss of the Moon Hunt lay at the nexus of the Three Realms; Jiang Chen went specially to the forward station. The two even locked eyes from afar—

Ten years apart, he was utterly certain that man had seen him.

Seen him.

Then fled like facing a great enemy.

When he returned that time, Jiang Chen began to unravel a bit.

Before, he’d maintained enough decorum over the years—after all, he’d been a city lord in the Demon Bright for two years. Even with his arrogant nature, he’d learned to wear a mask of gentle humility, mingling smoothly with all sorts.

Not to mention, after returning to the Mortal Realm, to rise quickly in Liao Yuan Court, he’d suppressed his sharp edges ruthlessly.

Once upon a time, Immortal Lord Jiang Chen of Liao Yuan Court had been praised as “steady and reliable,” “courteous and refined”—not the later “icy and sharp,” “bad-tempered,” “hard to approach.”

But when the last shred of self-deceptive illusion was torn away by reality, he could no longer sustain the pretense.

Year after year thereafter, he grew ever more taciturn and biting in speech, took to heavy drinking, bristling with thorns.

He slew a few more demons; the world gained more shrines and offerings.

He bought several mountains, planted vast fields of honeysuckle, opened a branch of Luozhou Sunken Wood Manor in the upper realms.

He did many things, yet seemed to do nothing at all. Spring came and went, pear blossoms bloomed and withered—five years in a blink, ten years, endless.

The courtyard still flowered brightly, sunlight still flooded the yard.

Only he was gradually swallowed by the mire of resentment, sinking deeper into cold, damp darkness year by year.

How many days left?

How much longer could he wait? Five years at most, maybe four… or three?

Occasional moments of clarity came.

But mostly, what was clarity? They said one should keep a measure of it in life—unfortunately, he’d lost his long ago.

And so it dragged to this day.

Reunion, then parting once more.

The cold moonlight spilled like mercury, edging their tightly entwined, greedy silhouettes in hazy haze.

Jiang Chen inhaled deeply at the crook of the man’s neck. Only then did he finally release—hazy, reluctant, extremely gentle and slow.

Zhao Lixuan was already swaying with exhaustion, mustering his last strength to flop onto the bed’s edge. But then he rubbed his face fiercely, struggling to stay awake—

Probably because this familiar Pear Flower Water Pavilion always carried a faint plum fragrance, strange yet somehow familiar.

Making him feel like… he seemed… to recognize the person lingering nearby.

So with his final effort, he forced open his drooping eyelids, trying to see clearly.

But the moonlight was too hazy, and he couldn’t make it out. Without a trace of guard, he leaned closer… and closer.

Jiang Chen gave a bitter smile. And how could he alone lack defenses?

The foremost righteous sect of the entire Unstained Immortal Realm had no defenses against those with ulterior motives.

Jiang Immortal Lord said he would safely escort Immortal Lord Li Xuan back to his residence, and they believed him!

Trust, ha. Did they know what he had been plotting all evening? Did they know he had deliberately waited for him to get dead drunk so he could take advantage of his vulnerability? He could ruin him right then and there, then tomorrow pin everything on Zhao Lixuan and extort any dark secret or outrageous demand he wanted!

He was already prepared to resort to any means necessary just to stay.

Jiang Chen harbored these sinister thoughts with chilling malice, but in the next moment…

Clouds parted over the moon, spilling clear light that caught him utterly off guard as he met Zhao Lixuan’s sober gaze under the moonlight.

Zhao Lixuan was looking right at him.

The moonlight was pristine and bright, exposing him in an instant with nowhere to hide.

A dense, stabbing pain bloomed in his chest, quietly spreading through his limbs. All color drained from Jiang Chen’s face. Yet across from him, Zhao Lixuan merely blinked in a daze, his weary gaze tracing his features with gentle warmth, gradually revealing joy:

“I… I know. I remember now.”

“Tiantian,” he said, enunciating each word, “you’re Jiang Sweetie.”

The moonlight flickered.

His entire chest surged with bitterness, stealing his breath. All his malice crumbled to dust in that moment.

His heart raced cold, and years of accumulated resentment vanished in a puff of smoke, leaving only overwhelming helplessness, bewilderment, and exposure.

Countless words he wanted to say, should say, welled up like a tide.

Then receded, drowning once more.

…

Go back.

These past days, you’ve admired flowers together, drunk wine together, even leaned on each other for a few moments.

It’s enough. Go back to the Mortal Realm alone. Say you’re off wandering, viewing flowers, gazing at the sea—vanish quietly where no one knows.

It’s enough. He doesn’t hate you. You even fought side by side.

This is the best outcome. You know it.

Leave.

You’ve always known everything—

What you want will never come again.

Not since the first year back in the Mortal Realm. Or even earlier.

The years after were just like back then under the Three Realms Gate—knowing there was no hope, yet craning your neck in desperate longing, verifying a miracle that would never come, over and over.

Too much time has passed.

Only you remain in place.

He’s free and unrestrained. Without you, he’s even happier, more carefree than before.

So go back.

…

The moonlight dimmed between clouds, then brightened again.

The ground felt cool beneath him. Jiang Chen leaned against the bed, his fingers still greedily brushing against the warmth of that person’s fingertips.

For a long, silent time, he wished this long night could stretch on forever.

How absurd. People were always like this—resolving themselves one moment, forgetting their original intent the next. Then remembering again in some instant, trapped in endless self-contradiction.

Why had he returned to the Mortal Realm at any cost back then?

He had known there was no chance of ever being together again.

So… really, he had just wanted to see him one more time.

Under the moon, Zhao Lixuan could no longer fight his drowsiness. He slumped into a pile of soft white goose-feather pillows and fell into a deep sleep, his breathing steady and even.

Jiang Chen rubbed against that warm palm again.

This stolen intimacy would surely comfort many lonely nights to come. His last night in the Unstained Immortal Realm was warm enough already.

The gentle rubbing spread from fingertips to wrist, caressing carefully.

In the Immortal Realm, the wrist connected to the heart meridian, a key nexus for immortal energy flow.

Even when Immortal Couples formed their bond, they used heart blood as a catalyst to draw a red cord on each other’s wrists. Once the Red Cord merged into flesh and bone, it transformed into an eternal Golden Contract Mark, binding them through endless lifespans.

His fingertips suddenly froze.

…Anyone could form a contract Red Cord—it was just condensing immortal power into threads and wrapping them densely around the other’s wrist. But without mutual affection and harmonious intent, even a hundred or thousand cords would be nothing but one-sided futility.

Just like now, in his dazed haze, he had quietly wrapped a few around Zhao Lixuan’s wrist. By rights, no trace should remain.

But in this moment, under the clear moonlight, something on the inner side of Zhao Lixuan’s wrist was faintly repelling him.

Jiang Chen rubbed that patch of skin in disbelief.

There, warm on the inner wrist, a faint golden pattern glowed softly in the moonlight, dissolving each of the Red Cords he had tied one by one.

His blood boiled, then froze solid in an instant.

Silence gripped the air. His fingers stiffened, immovable.

Impossible.

He had never heard that Immortal Lord Li Xuan had formed an Immortal Couple bond. This was an illusion, fake—something he could yank right off—

Zhao Lixuan slept on peacefully under the moon.

He gathered his immortal power and tugged. The golden pattern didn’t budge an inch.

How could it not break?