Chapter 63: A Leisurely Interlude Amid Storms

Sima Jiao, the very ancestor who once toppled the most prestigious Immortal Mansion in the Cultivation World—the true Demon Lord now unifying the entire Demon Realm—had, at this very moment, spirited her away thousands of miles just because she craved certain foods. To think that heaven-moving, earth-shaking figures could be so easily swayed by a craving… what kind of boyfriend was this?

The more Liao Tingyan thought about it, the more she felt her old roommate’s boyfriend—who once got up in the middle of the night to fetch barbecue and cake after a single phone call—was utterly defeated in comparison.

So when Sima Jiao insisted she accompany him into the water, she endured it, because really, how could she complain with such an indulgent partner?

And truthfully, the scenery here was breathtaking. After years in the Demon Realm’s barren wastelands and bleak forests, seeing lush greenery and breathing in crisp mountain air felt like stepping into another life. Floating lightly on the water, she thought she might dissolve into the world itself, a single leaf adrift on the surface.

Sima Jiao, watching her float, rested his head lazily against her stomach, his gaze drifting skyward with hers. Red maples and bamboo swayed, their leaves dancing down. With a playful puff of breath, Liao Tingyan sent one fluttering back up, swaying like a butterfly. They lay there in a lazy T-shape, eyes following the leaf’s path.

“Have we done this before?” she asked.

“Mm,” he murmured, half-asleep.

Looking at him now, she found him increasingly at ease, a far cry from the cold, ruthless figure she had first met. He was almost… infected by her laziness. Her friends had once joked that spending time with her gave people “the laziness disease.” Who would have thought the mighty Demon Lord himself wasn’t immune?

Her hand absentmindedly twisted his hair, and before she realized it, she had slipped a strand into her mouth and chewed. Startled, she quickly pulled it out under his sharp gaze, rinsed it in the water, combed it carefully, and returned it in place.

“Was it tasty?” he asked.

“…Not tasty.”

His look made her instantly correct herself. “Tasty! Very tasty!”

Still, his expression didn’t change. Boyfriends were difficult to please.

“Greedy enough to eat even hair,” he muttered, standing with elegant disdain. “Come, let’s eat.”

He stepped onto the wooden corridor, and with a wave of his sleeve, dried himself instantly, resuming his sleek Demon Lord appearance. Liao Tingyan, dripping and wringing her hair, looked on speechlessly. Did he never change clothes? She suspected half his wardrobe in her storage space was his, so she pulled out a few robes to coax him into changing. Her sly strategy—presenting multiple options so he’d be forced to choose—nearly backfired when he teased her about preparing new clothes for him before.

His satisfied smirk only deepened when she tried to brush it off, and soon his lips were on hers again, shadows of their entwined figures cast long across the carved wooden screens.

When at last they were dressed, they left their private villa, where sedan chairs borne by wind carried them through maple-lined roads. Their destination: the famed Precious Food Tower, a place of song, dance, and endless delicacies.

Inside, Liao Tingyan’s eyes shone as she ordered nearly the entire menu, unconcerned by cost. To her, it felt again like she had married into wealth. Sima Jiao, indifferent to the food, leaned at her side as she delighted in flavors she hadn’t tasted in years.

The feast was perfect—silken music, graceful dancers, wine in white jade pots. Every sense was indulged.

Until chaos shattered it.

A pavilion across the lake exploded, hurling cultivators into the night. Purple-robed figures mocked their green-robed enemies, voices sharp with past grudges. Blades were drawn, tempers flared.

Liao Tingyan barely looked up, determined to continue eating—until a green-robed man was blasted straight into her pavilion, overturning her banquet. Her chopsticks still pinched a piece of sauced meat. Calmly, she ate it, set her chopsticks aside, and with one swift kick sent the purple-robed attacker flying back where he came from.

It was instinct, a Demon Realm reflex. Only after did she realize her mistake—this wasn’t Hejian City anymore. Here, violence was not so casually repaid. She glanced nervously at Sima Jiao.

But before she could say anything, the battered green-robed man looked up at her with dawning recognition.

“Are you… disciple Tingyan?”

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