Chapter 67: Whispers of Loyalty and Betrayal
“If you become wealthy and noble, don’t forget me.”
Those were the words Liao Tingyan once said to Hong Luo when she was still Lu Yan, a simple security guard at Rouge Platform. Hong Luo had always been better off—earning more, living brighter. She often treated her to meals, tossing her fruit with an easy smile. But beyond that, she had dragged Liao Tingyan from battlefields, tended her wounds, and given her rare medicine when no one else in the cold demon realm cared.
Now, seeing Hong Luo alive again, jumping and laughing with unrestrained joy, Liao Tingyan felt a deep happiness.
They exchanged stories. When Hong Luo heard about Liao Tingyan’s entanglement with Sima Jiao, she slapped her thigh in envy.
“What kind of divine romance is this? Damn, I’m jealous!”
But when she spoke of her own end, her face darkened. She slammed the table in anger.
“You don’t know how pathetic those two killers were! Years of cultivating the arts of pleasure, handling countless men, yet their skills ranked dead last. Damn it, I almost wanted to turn vengeful ghost just to kill them myself. Who knew you’d avenge me? At least that’s one regret gone.”
Her bitterness melted as she leaned forward and hugged Liao Tingyan.
“Thank you.”
“You don’t need to thank me.” Liao Tingyan patted her back gently. “Come on, let’s go walk outside.”
Hong Luo perked up, sitting proudly in her arms, grinning wide. “Hahaha, dying once wasn’t so bad after all! My aptitude now is off the charts. And this face? Pure natural beauty! Not to mention, I even have the Demon Realm Queen as my dad.”
Liao Tingyan raised an eyebrow. “So you’re calling me your dad now? Doesn’t that make Sima Jiao your mother?”
Hong Luo instantly froze, covering her mouth. “Shh! If the Demon Lord hears that, I’ll be dead for real!”
Liao Tingyan laughed. “Relax. He’s not as cruel as people say. I’ve been with him all this time and never once saw him kill. He doesn’t even eat meat. Where would you find such a peace-loving demon king?”
Hong Luo gave her a look full of meaning. “Mother, that’s only because you’re his dao partner. Of course you don’t feel his aura. To us, he’s terrifying. We’re like stepchildren—if he doesn’t like us, we die. And don’t fool yourself, he kills plenty. He just hides it from you. Tsk, you weren’t so delicate when you used to run around with me.”
Liao Tingyan chuckled. “Be honest—if someone did all your thinking and work for you, would you want to do it yourself? Not a chance.”
Hong Luo clenched her fists in mock envy. “Damn it, you’re winning in life by lying down!”
Together with the black snake at their feet, they wandered the forbidden palace.
“So this is the Demon Lord’s legendary palace? Everyone outside makes it sound so frightening, but it doesn’t look so scary now,” Hong Luo remarked.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Liao Tingyan teased.
“Hell yeah! Others can’t step foot here, but I can. This is top-tier treatment.” Hong Luo puffed her chest. “But you’re too lazy. If it were me, I’d march back to Heron Immortal City with an army of demon generals and beasts, with the Demon Lord by my side, and make every fool who looked down on me regret it!”
Liao Tingyan opened her mouth, then decided against answering.
They eventually reached an outer palace guarded by demon generals. The guards, seeing Liao Tingyan with a child in her arms and a snake trailing her, didn’t dare stop her. They stepped aside respectfully. Liao Tingyan hadn’t planned to enter, but with the doors wide open, she went in.
Inside, Sima Jiao sat on the throne. Before him, demon generals writhed in flames, their bodies crumbling into black ash. A thick layer of ashes already carpeted the floor.
Liao Tingyan: “…” Wow.
Sima Jiao pointed to another group. Those selected trembled; one dropped to his knees, crying for mercy, but flames consumed him all the same. Soon, the ashes grew even thicker.
Hong Luo’s body stiffened, her hand clutching Liao Tingyan’s sleeve. She whispered in terror, “Mother, those are Winter City’s demon generals! Didn’t you say he doesn’t kill? Look at this!”
Liao Tingyan: “Uh…”
Her voice carried enough for Sima Jiao to hear. His gaze swept toward her.
“Why have you come here?”
Liao Tingyan shifted nervously. “Then… I’ll just leave?”
“Come here.”
Resigned, she carried Hong Luo, with the black snake slithering behind, and walked to his side. Demon generals dared not look directly, but their fear was palpable.
Liao Tingyan sat beside him, placing Hong Luo on her lap. The once-bold Hong Luo now sat like a quiet little chick.
Sima Jiao continued his grim selections. Watching, Liao Tingyan realized his manner was almost like a teacher calling students to the blackboard—solemn faces, nervous bodies, and resignation to fate. Not one resisted.
What she didn’t know was that many already had tried—and their ashes lay scattered at Sima Jiao’s feet.
When he finally dismissed the survivors, their relief was almost ecstatic.
“What were they?” Liao Tingyan asked softly.
“Disloyal ones. I was simply handling them.”
She patted Hong Luo, who trembled in her arms.
Only then did Sima Jiao notice her companion. “And this?”
Liao Tingyan introduced her quickly. “Hong Luo, my friend. The one I resurrected. Better for you to know, so she won’t be mistaken as an intruder later.”
Hong Luo shrank, hiding behind the snake.
Sima Jiao didn’t push further. Instead, he gripped Liao Tingyan’s hand. His palm was hot, unlike his usual coolness. She tried to pull away, but he tightened his grip, interlacing their fingers.
“You kill with fire?” she asked, recalling he was known to prefer bloody, brutal methods.
He didn’t answer her directly. “Their fear of the Mountain Spirit Fire is etched into their bones.”
Liao Tingyan: “???”
He brushed her temple with his thumb, changing the subject. “I’ve captured Shi Zhenxu.”
She gasped.
“Do you want to see him?”
The smart answer was no. But thinking of the many spirit stones he had given her, she said cautiously, “Can I say… yes?”
“If you want, then go.” His voice was calm, careless, as he tucked her hair aside.
She went.
Shi Zhenxu looked haggard, but alive. “…Brother?” she greeted him softly, remembering his past kindness.
His expression twisted. “Since you remember and still call me that, are you mocking me?”
Wrong—she hadn’t remembered. She scratched her cheek awkwardly.
Seeing her confusion, his eyes widened. “You still haven’t recovered your memory? Then how could you fall into Sima Jiao’s arms?”
“Because of love?”
Shi Zhenxu choked. After a long pause, he sneered. “Do you know why he hasn’t restored your memory? Because there are things he doesn’t want you to recall. Lies—everything he’s told you is lies!”
He had nothing left to lose. If he was going to die, at least he wanted to drive a wedge between her and Sima Jiao.
Liao Tingyan sighed and left. Memories of her years with the Shi family surfaced—their obsession with clan survival over personal will, their brainwashing of sacrifice. She had often felt like she was stuck in a pyramid scheme.
Still, after years together, there had been some small affection. But it was twisted, unhealthy, and could never be expressed.
Outside, Sima Jiao waited.
“I won’t kill him. For your sake, he’ll remain imprisoned here. His soul will still be allowed to reincarnate. But Shi Qianlü must die. Do you understand?”
She nodded tearfully.
He wiped the corner of her eye. “Only this one exception.”
She took his hand voluntarily. “Can’t I recover my memories?”
“If you can, then remember them yourself.”
She whispered, “I trust you.”
“It doesn’t matter if you don’t,” he replied, voice low. “Whatever I do, it’s because I choose to. Whether you trust or love me—none of that binds me.”
Liao Tingyan smiled faintly. “Dao partner, shall we dual cultivate? The kind that opens the spirit mansion?”
She thought he would refuse. He had always avoided it, perhaps wary of her memory loss. But he surprised her.
“If you wish, then of course.”
Entering his spirit mansion, she was struck dumb. The land was gone—replaced by roaring magma and sky-wide flames. Lava surged, firestorms raged, and heat pressed on her until she could hardly breathe. Only a tiny flowering ground remained where her soul could stand.
Later, lying exhausted, she gasped.
“If it were an ordinary person, would they have died from the pain already?”
Sima Jiao turned her face toward him.
“Am I an ordinary person?”