Chapter 101#

I Love Him, I Will Accept Defeat#

Su Ruhui felt a helpless sorrow. When he first created the world, he only set basic parameters such as the natural environment and the construction of races. All subsequent rises and falls, successes and failures, were written by their own struggles and had nothing to do with him. Without Su Ruhui’s knowledge, the demon race, in order to survive the blizzards, had no choice but to accept King Luofu’s Spiritual Mind Communion, abandoning themselves, erasing their individuality, and becoming cogs in the machinery of their race to ensure its prosperity.

This was his senior sister’s own choice, and Su Ruhui indeed had no right to interfere. It seemed that their falling out was inevitable, with no room for turning back. If he wanted to take Tantai Jing and Sang Chiyu away from the Border City, he would have to kill Bai Ruoye.

But there was still one point of doubt—any demon influenced by King Luofu’s secret art would become the King’s eyes, seeing what he sees and hearing what he hears. Logically, Bai Ruoye harboring Tantai Jing should not be hidden from King Luofu. Why had King Luofu not yet confronted Bai Ruoye? Su Ruhui pondered silently. Perhaps King Luofu had tacitly approved of Bai Ruoye’s actions. Bai Ruoye had abolished his uncle’s secret art; what harm was there in raising a powerless ordinary human? King Luofu would not punish his beloved daughter and meritorious subject for such a reason.

Su Ruhui felt something was off. This reasoning seemed to have some holes.

He thought back carefully, scenes flashing through his mind one after another: Su Guanyu appearing in the Puppet Workshop on Dark Street, Su Guanyu tempting Sang Chiyu in the Immortal Cave… How did Su Guanyu know their every move? How did Su Guanyu know that Bai Ruoye had prepared a super-grade flesh puppet for him?

An answer was on the verge of emerging, as if the fog was clearing. Su Ruhui’s mind became clear. Su Guanyu knew he was on Dark Street because of Shentu, and knew about the super-grade flesh puppet because of Bai Ruoye. Both Shentu and Bai Ruoye were King Luofu’s “eyes.” As for Sang Chiyu, Su Guanyu knew he was in the Immortal Cave, of course, because of King Luofu.

Finally, Su Ruhui understood. Su Guanyu had parasitized King Luofu’s body, so he could see Shentu and Bai Ruoye. Based on Sang Chiyu’s experience, it was certain that Su Guanyu could deceive King Luofu’s mind, making him mistakenly believe he had used Spiritual Mind Communion when he actually had not. Similarly, Su Guanyu could make King Luofu think he was monitoring Bai Ruoye. Perhaps King Luofu had not tacitly approved Bai Ruoye’s actions; the one using Spiritual Mind Communion to spy on Bai Ruoye was not King Luofu, but Su Guanyu.

[Intel unlocked. Host’s guess is correct. Twelve years ago, Su Guanyu traveled alone to the Snow Realm’s Celestial Pole to slay the five demon ancestors. Four demon ancestors died; King Luofu was severely wounded. Su Guanyu transformed into a virus and parasitized his body.]

[Quest 1 and Quest 2 completed successfully. System authority released 20%. Current authority: 95%.]

Beep—

Quest released: Final ultimate quest.

Quest description: Eliminate the virus, safeguard the Superdomain.

Quest reward: System authority released 5%, return-to-reality channel opened. After this quest, Superdomain management authority will be transferred to the host, granting access to all Superdomain databases.

The last five percent. Su Ruhui took a deep breath. To kill Su Guanyu, he would have to kill King Luofu—no easy feat. Su Ruhui still had a question: Why was Su Guanyu paying attention to Bai Ruoye?

Su Ruhui frowned and asked, “Senior Sister, have you ever met my father?”

Caught off guard by this strange question, Bai Ruoye asked, “Why are you asking?”

“Just curious. Have you met him?”

“A few times, when he came to visit you.”

Su Ruhui asked, “Did he ever say anything to you?”

“He said a word or two. He said…” Bai Ruoye suddenly stopped.

“Said what?”

Bai Ruoye remembered one time when heavy rain fell on Mount Zhuluo. She was coming back from outside and saw him taking shelter under a tree. He was probably coming to visit Su Ruhui but got caught in the rain halfway. She was twelve then, already a young lady who knew pity. Su Guanyu stood under the tree, thin as a wisp of smoke, as if the wind and rain might scatter him. She tossed him her umbrella and ran back up the mountain in the rain. Later, he came to return the umbrella and thank her. Before leaving, he stared at her for a long time, then smiled faintly and said she looked very much like Tantai Xun.

Very much like Tantai Xun. There was nothing strange about that; many people had said the same to Bai Ruoye, including Tantai Jing.

But for some reason, Bai Ruoye suddenly couldn’t say it now.

Why did everyone say she looked like Tantai Xun? What kind of person was Tantai Xun? Bai Ruoye suddenly felt a violent headache. One moment she recalled the beauty painting Tantai Xun had kept in the secret archives, the next she remembered the phantom she encountered in the Stone Nest. The pain made her break out in cold sweat. She forced herself to hold on, clenching her teeth and saying, “Enough. No more idle chat. Su Ruhui, I’ll give you one hour to leave the Border City. One hour from now, I will lead troops to surround your residence.”

Su Ruhui moved to support her. “What’s wrong?”

Bai Ruoye pushed his hand away, closed her eyes, and said, “Consider this my debt to you. After today, we’re even. Next time we meet, I will kill you.”

Bai Ruoye left without looking back. Su Ruhui called after her, “Within the hour, I will be brewing tea here. If you want to see me, come find me.”

Bai Ruoye did not turn around.

Once outside the inn, her attendant rushed forward to hold an umbrella for her. She pushed him aside, mounted her horse alone, and rode back to the Stone Nest in the rain. She had spoken so harshly, yet she fled like a coward. Only then did she realize she was avoiding the name “Tantai Xun.” That name was like a homeless ghost, chasing her, filling her with an inexplicable fear.

When she returned to her Stone Nest palace, dead bodies were piled in the grass. She had no time to deal with them, pressing her throbbing temples as she staggered up the stone tower. The place was empty—Tantai Jing was long gone. The window was unlatched, and driving rain beat against the low table, wetting a patch of it.

Good, he left. She thought, It’s good that he left.

Her head ached terribly, but she was too lazy to take medicine. She sat alone by the window, the spot where Tantai Jing used to sit. From here, you could see the entire Border City. Strange-shaped demons walked the streets; long-tailed demon bats flew through the air; in the North Star Hall sat the demon king. She felt her head was splitting; the pain was unbearable. Something crawled out from the depths of her mind, bloodied, like a soul from the past, forcibly boring open her skull. She covered her face, blood dripping between her fingers. Spiritual Mind Communion was loosening; blood flowed from all seven orifices.

A pair of feet bound in golden shackles stopped before her. She looked up and saw Tantai Jing’s cold face.

Though he was the imprisoned one, now it was Bai Ruoye who looked utterly wretched.

“You didn’t leave?” Bai Ruoye asked hoarsely.

Tantai Jing stared at the blood on her face for a long moment, then turned and knelt behind the low table. Indifferently, he said, “I am already a cripple. What use is returning? I might as well stay here and watch you all bring about your own destruction.”

Bai Ruoye murmured, “Bring about our own destruction…”

“The demon race is full of shortsighted fools,” Tantai Jing extended his hand, catching the drifting rain in his palm. “Jiang Xueya, you cannot bear their burden alone.”

Bai Ruoye gave a bitter laugh. Tantai Jing, imprisoned in the tower, could still grasp the general situation of the Border City. It was simple: he only needed to gaze at the reveling demon soldiers roaming the streets to glimpse the decadent atmosphere prevailing among the demon race. If even the soldiers were like this, what of the nobles? Unfortunately, her kinsmen didn’t understand such a simple truth.

Bai Ruoye suddenly felt exhausted. Sickness and hallucinations tormented her; she seemed to be at the end of her strength.

“Hey, Tantai Jing,” Bai Ruoye said softly, “tell me about your younger sister. The archives say that back then you enforced harsh laws exiling the refugees, and she strongly opposed you, volunteering to explore the Snow Realm to seek a century’s livelihood for the race. The blizzard was so fierce—we fought tooth and nail to escape—yet she walked straight into the snow. She was truly a brave woman. Tell me about her. If she encountered a killing blizzard, or clan members she couldn’t save, what would she do?”

“You are not her,” Tantai Jing said coldly. “You are inferior to her.”

His words pierced her like thorns, deep into her heart. She was not angered; she merely lowered her head and smiled. “I’ve already heard that once. Tantai Jing, A Hui and Sang Chiyu are both in the Border City. I can report to my father at any moment that Sang Chiyu was never affected by Spiritual Mind Communion. So if I ask you to speak, you will speak.”

Tantai Jing’s gray eyes were coated with a thin frost.

After a long moment, he finally spoke. “As you wish.”

Qinghe Street, the inn.

A faint phantom stood in the rain, like a lonely soul blown in by the wind. Su Guanyu stood on the pear-blossom path covered in mud, looking up at the towering gate of the inn. He was a shadow with no anchor; passersby could not see him, the wind passed through him, and so did the rain. He had been watching Bai Ruoye all along, using King Luofu’s Spiritual Mind Communion. He had heard the conversation between Bai Ruoye and Su Ruhui, and Su Ruhui knew he was listening—hence that final remark about “brewing tea and waiting” was not directed at Bai Ruoye, but at him.

He knew Su Ruhui had guessed his hiding place, and therefore Su Ruhui was certain he would come. What a clever child, Su Guanyu smiled silently. Indeed, if he weren’t clever, how could he have created the world, this vast snowy realm?

When Bai Ruoye left, she had withdrawn all the guards from in front of the inn. Under the stone colonnade it was desolate and cold, raindrops splashing to the ground like shattering jade. A huge white cat carrying an oil-paper umbrella in its mouth paced to his feet. It crouched in the rain, looking up at him, its icy blue eyes seeming even colder than the rain. He laughed despite himself, bent down, and took the umbrella from Sang Baobao’s mouth, opening it.

“Why give me an umbrella? I am but a shadow.” Su Guanyu extended his pale hand into the rain. “Look, I cannot even hold a single drop.”

Sang Baobao did not reply. It walked toward the New Moon Residence.

It led Su Guanyu to the New Moon Residence. Su Guanyu pushed open the nutmeg wood door, took a few steps, then looked back. The furry white cat crouched like a shadow under the eaves, watching him go.

“Do you truly accept defeat?” Su Guanyu asked. “Even knowing that your love for him originated from a designed game, even knowing this world is all false—do you still love him?”

Sang Baobao’s gaze was like cool ripples, calm and serene.

“Su Guanyu, how do you define truth or falsehood?” he countered instead. “Does loving Tantai Xun cause you pain? Does it cause you sorrow? If the pain is real, if the sorrow is real, then why is the love not real?”

Su Guanyu closed his eyes. Outside the door, the drifting rain passed through his face, like tears.

Sang Baobao’s clear voice pierced the heavy rain and reached his ear.

“I love him. I will accept defeat.”

The door closed before Su Guanyu’s eyes. He turned around. His nominal son, Su Ruhui, knelt behind the low table, brewing tea. He had once despised this child, tried every means to break free from the invisible threads Su Ruhui had tied around him. But the more he struggled, the tighter the threads wound, like a small insect caught in a spider’s web, facing death.

Su Guanyu sat down opposite Su Ruhui, lowering his eyes to watch the curling steam from the teacup. Two extremely similar men sat facing each other as the rain poured outside the window, like a father and son enjoying a leisurely afternoon tea.

“Old man,” Su Ruhui smiled lightly, “you came after all.”

“Do not call me father,” Su Guanyu also maintained a smile. “In any sense, I and A Xun are not your parents.”

Su Ruhui sighed and nodded. “You’re right.”

Su Guanyu asked, “Why did you summon me?”

Su Ruhui said, “To make a deal with you.”

“You are the creator; the Superdomain is your property. What else could you possibly want?” Su Guanyu shook his head gently. “I have broken some of Snowflake’s permissions and can see a few things. Not much, but useful—for instance, your quest logs. So do not tempt me with the offer of letting me leave the Superdomain. The ultimate quest to open the Heavenly Gate is to kill me. You have no way to let me leave the Superdomain.”

“My quest is to eliminate the virus,” Su Ruhui said. “But whether there is a virus is up to the system. If I delete the system’s data logs of the virus, then in the system’s perception, there is no virus in the Superdomain. Old man, I can take you to reality, but I need to implant some protocols into your code. Don’t worry, these protocols won’t restrict your freedom; they only ensure you pose no threat to the real world.”

“I see.” Su Guanyu lowered his eyes and smiled faintly.

His smile was very thin. He did not seem particularly happy to receive Su Ruhui’s promise to let him leave the Superdomain.

“What do you want in return?” Su Guanyu asked.

Su Ruhui took a sip of tea and said slowly, “I want to hear a story. A story that only you can tell me.”

The spring rain was too heavy; the mortal world seethed like a tide. They sat facing each other, the curling steam from the hot tea rising between them.

Su Guanyu closed his eyes, and a barely audible sigh escaped his lips.

“Very well, I will tell you.”