Chapter 69: Shadows Over Yan City
Liao Tingyan felt as if she and her dao partner were experiencing the seven-year itch.
Recently, Sima Jiao had been somewhat cold toward her. He no longer pulled her to soak in water together, nor did he dual cultivate with her. Even though he couldn’t sleep at night, with bloodshot eyes, he still wouldn’t ease his condition through dual cultivation with her.
More dramatically, he had locked himself in the hall half a month ago, refusing to see anyone. This “anyone” included Liao Tingyan. Over these years, whenever she wanted to see Sima Jiao, she could go regardless of what he was doing. But this time, Sima Jiao refused to see even her.
“You think this is a relationship problem?” Hong Luo, who practiced a special cultivation technique, had grown considerably in a few years and now looked like a twelve or thirteen-year-old middle school girl—though her tone and demeanor remained that of a crude, experienced old hand. “Men are all like this. Who cares what he’s thinking? Just subdue him in bed. What can’t be solved with dual cultivation between dao partners?”
Liao Tingyan: “If you have the guts, say that in front of Sima Jiao.”
Hong Luo immediately shrank her neck. “No, no, you go yourself. Who dares to see him now? Won’t we get killed?! The old man is increasingly fond of burning people!”
A few days ago, a demon general came from the demon realm, escorting several spies who had attempted to break into the forbidden palace. They intended to hand them over to the Demon Lord, but as they approached the palace where Sima Jiao was in seclusion, the spies suddenly caught fire. The flames were colorless. The burning people didn’t even realize what was happening as they walked forward a few steps, the flesh and blood on their bodies turning to ash and falling off. By the time they reached the steps, the nearly completely burned people collapsed to the ground, instantly turning into white ash. The scene was both eerie and brutal.
Only the black snake and Liao Tingyan could approach those steps, but even the black snake couldn’t go further up. Liao Tingyan was the only one who could still walk to the door.
She sat on a massive tree branch, gazing at the palace where Sima Jiao was secluded. She gently furrowed her brows, and even Hong Luo’s deliberate jokes couldn’t make her smile.
Hong Luo looked her over twice and clapped her hands. “Keep that expression, preferably even more melancholic. Yes, a melancholic woman filled with sorrow. Then you can go stand by the palace door and strike a pose. I guarantee the Demon Lord will come out to comfort you soon.”
Liao Tingyan: “???” What nonsense?
Hong Luo: “No, that expression won’t do. You need the previous one.”
Liao Tingyan rolled her eyes and lay down. “Forget it, let him do what he wants. With his personality, no one can stop him from doing what he wants, this stubborn tyrant. I’ll just wait for him to finish and tell me himself.”
Yan City was sunny and pleasant today. The sky was clear and pure blue, white clouds resting on distant peaks. The cherry blossoms had just shed, leaving fresh greenery, and the crimson cherry fruits were beginning to ripen.
Those trees had been moved here years ago by Sima Jiao, just because she liked them. He had even invited people from Guyu Settlement to make sure they thrived. In spring, the mountains bloomed pink; in July, they bore bright red fruit.
Yan City bustled with demon cultivators and immortal cultivators alike. Food streets filled the city, especially near her temporary palace, where famous stalls gathered. In past years, Sima Jiao would sit with her while she ate, sometimes with Hong Luo or the black snake Sisi tagging along. The shopkeepers eventually learned that if they pleased her palate, they might receive rare treasures in return.
During Sima Jiao’s seclusion, she wandered there less. Instead, she stayed on the great Fragrant Sinking Cyan Wood behind the palace. The tree’s fragrance eased her melancholy, and it became her favorite perch. Sisi often coiled around the branches too, lazy in his snake form.
Deliveries from Guyu Settlement still came, carried by spiritual birds. Her fellow disciples had long since accepted her as the Demon Lord’s dao partner. Life here was harmonious, almost carefree. The only thing troubling her was Sima Jiao himself.
Sometimes she felt he was doing this on purpose, this scheming tyrant.
One night, she sensed something tugging at her heart and woke. A familiar figure stood not far away, gazing at the mountains. His black robes stirred softly in the night breeze.
“Please, ancestor, can you not wake me up in the middle of the night? Can’t you just come back and go to sleep? I’ve left space for you,” she muttered from memory of another night long ago.
“No,” he had said then.
Now, in the present, Sima Jiao turned toward her. “It’s only been half a month since you’ve seen me, and you can’t recognize me?”
She sat up. “Have you finished your seclusion?”
Sima Jiao: “No, I came out to see you.”
She grabbed his warm hand—too warm, too normal. “Don’t you want to soak in water?”
“No,” he said, drawing her closer, his hand at the nape of her neck. “Not happy? Why?”
Liao Tingyan: “…” You dare ask why.
“I feel like you’re doing something dangerous,” she whispered.
Sima Jiao: “So you’re extremely worried about me? Want to throw a tantrum?”
She stayed silent. He only smiled, taking her hand and leading her across rooftops under the moonlight. At dawn, he kissed the ring on her finger, then let go.
“I’ve had people find a beautiful white spiritual beast for you. It will arrive today. Go play by yourself, and have fun.” His figure dissolved into air.
“Who wants to play with a white furball, you stinky black furball…” she muttered.
The rare Snow Spirit Fox soon arrived, palm-sized, fluffy and round-eyed. It grew quickly, and she named it Ang Ang. With Hong Luo, Sisi, and now Ang Ang, her life grew chaotic and lively.
Every few nights, Sima Jiao emerged to find her. Always at night, always brief, leaving her more unsettled. Once, he even brought a flock of illusion birds that danced in the sky for her amusement.
But when she asked to see inside his spirit mansion, he refused. “If you enter now, your soul will burn.”
She pouted and wrestled with him, but he only held her tightly, laughing. His happiness seemed wrong. She feared he was preparing to die.
That winter, during the heaviest snowfall, he finally ended his seclusion. In the jade-green pool, he pressed her eyes shut and passed his golden blood into her mouth. Her cultivation soared uncontrollably as thunder rolled outside.
She realized what he had done—refining the Mountain Spirit Fire into himself, only to pass it all to her.
“Why?” she cried, trembling.
“Heaven wants me to die, but I won’t give my life to it. In this world, I only love you, so naturally, I’ll give it to you.”
Her tears turned to steam on her cheeks. Furious, heartbroken, she bit him hard. He only laughed.
“There won’t be anyone else. You’ll never forget me in this lifetime.”
Indeed, she would never forget him—this man who was both so hateful and so impossible not to love.
“Dream on! Do you think you can have whatever you want? I refuse to let you have your way!”