Chapter 70 - 1#
Candlelight fell into Pei Huang’s dark pupils, appearing especially tender.
Pei Huang stepped forward and pulled Xue Jingci toward the table: “Today I met an old friend. Very skilled at cooking. I had him prepare this entire table of dishes. Will you taste it?”
Xue Jingci first swept his eyes over the abundant dishes, then spotted Jar dozing in a chair nearby.
He studied Jar intently, surprised: “It’s you. You know Pei Huang?”
Jar had waited a long time and grown drowsy. Hearing the familiar voice, he immediately perked up, surprise flashing across his face.
He looked at Xue Jingci, then at Pei Huang, thinking these two people seemed utterly unrelated.
His impression of Pei Huang was frozen when the boy was just over a decade old.
Back then, having just left the imperial city, he’d encountered Pei Huang making his living on the streets.
Their ages were similar, their temperaments alike, so they quickly became fast friends.
Pei Huang would often sneak into corrupt officials’ and nobles’ homes, while Jar would get hired as a cook first to scout the way.
All in all, the things they did weren’t particularly honorable.
As for Xue Jingci, Jar’s impression dated to their first meeting at Lingxu Sect.
He only remembered him as a cold, aloof, celestial being.
Later, he fell into the cloud sea while repairing the Heavenly Gate array.
A person of great righteousness.
He had no idea how Xue Jingci and Pei Huang ended up together.
But Jar had always been carefree—as long as there was wine and meat, life was good. Everything else was unimportant.
He pulled out a jar of wine from his storage pouch, feeling this unexpected reunion deserved the strongest spirits.
Jar filled the wine cups before Xue Jingci and Pei Huang, then poured one for himself and toasted: “Such fate deserves deep drinking.”
After that cup, Jar made a solo toast to Xue Jingci, admiring his work repairing the Heavenly Gate array.
Then he toasted Pei Huang separately, celebrating his position as demon lord.
Xue Jingci had excellent alcohol tolerance. Even after drinking four or five cups, he showed no signs of drunkenness.
But Jar and Pei Huang couldn’t match him.
Jar, always casual, simply collapsed onto the table after getting drunk and quickly fell asleep.
Yet Pei Huang, though his mind was foggy, still remembered Xue Jingci was beside him.
His feet unsteady, he still managed to walk to Xue Jingci’s side, picking up food for him, worried he wasn’t eating well.
Eventually, he tilted sideways against Xue Jingci, supporting his head with his hand, staring at him.
Xue Jingci noticed his gaze and swallowed a piece of pastry, turning his head.
Since becoming demon lord, Pei Huang had changed considerably. His demeanor was fierce and domineering, suppressing the powers of all factions.
Now, drunk, his eyes were slightly reddened, with a faint watery sheen. His entire form looked listless.
Only then did Xue Jingci realize that with Pei Huang’s temperament, sitting in such a position, he’d always maintain composure, only revealing unguarded exhaustion when unconscious.
He stood up, intending to take Pei Huang to rest.
Pei Huang looked at Xue Jingci. Seeing he seemed about to leave, he quickly grabbed his sleeve: “Don’t go.”
Xue Jingci’s heart softened. He guessed it was because he’d left Pei Huang behind so many times that this person had become so anxiously alert.
Though he naturally disliked restraint and rarely stayed in one place long, he found himself unable to resist complying.
Xue Jingci was about to say he wouldn’t leave when Pei Huang released his hand.
Though drunk, Pei Huang remembered Xue Jingci disliked being constrained, so he lowered his head dejectedly and added: “…It’s too far.”
Xue Jingci stared dumbly at Pei Huang.
After the incident with Xiao Xun, he particularly despised others’ confinement. Pei Huang naturally knew this, which was why he yielded so much.
Xue Jingci knew he was a taciturn, uninteresting person.
But Pei Huang always understood what he wanted without him speaking.
Yet Xue Jingci didn’t know what Pei Huang wanted.
After saying this, Pei Huang suddenly closed his eyes, holding his forehead with his hand, his brow tightly furrowed.
Seeing him uncomfortable from drunkenness, Xue Jingci stood to help, accidentally disturbing Jar.
Jar blearily opened his eyes. Seeing Xue Jingci supporting Pei Huang toward the bedchamber, he suddenly sobered somewhat and stood to block their path.
His tongue felt thick, yet he still managed to block their way, advising: “Pei Huang… when drunk, he goes crazy, talks nonsense. I’d advise you… not to stay with him.”
Yet this piqued Xue Jingci’s curiosity.
As a child, when Pei Huang didn’t want to fetch water, he’d just silently sulk and refuse to eat. Even as a young boy, he’d learned to control his emotions.
After growing up, this skill at hiding emotions only increased.
Xue Jingci had never seen Pei Huang lose control.
Perhaps this was his chance to see what Pei Huang truly wanted deep in his heart.
If possible, Xue Jingci would find a way to get it for him, making him happy.
Xue Jingci said “it’s fine” and gently pushed Jar’s hand aside, continuing to support Pei Huang toward the bedchamber.
Jar wanted to block them further, but his feet unsteady, in a moment they vanished from sight. Finally, he gave up.
His muddled brain thought that anyway, this was strong spirits—whoever drank it would get drunk. Even if Pei Huang said something crazy, no one would remember tomorrow.
With that thought, Jar lay back down and fell asleep.
Xue Jingci supported Pei Huang to the bedchamber and laid him on the bed.
Then he dimmed the lamp, poured hot tea to help sober him, and brought it to Pei Huang.
Pei Huang lay motionless, letting Xue Jingci manipulate him. His brow was tightly furrowed, looking quite uncomfortable.
Xue Jingci grew concerned and reached to touch his cheek.
Not too warm.
Xue Jingci relaxed, but as he went to withdraw his hand to get the tea, his wrist was tightly gripped by Pei Huang.
Pei Huang gripped his wrist and pulled him into his embrace. Xue Jingci found himself half-kneeling on the bed.
Pei Huang wrapped his arms around his waist and lowered his head to nuzzle against Xue Jingci’s neck.
“Xue Jingci.”
Since becoming his disciple, Pei Huang always said “master,” his tone extremely respectful, never calling him by his name like this.
Xue Jingci was about to speak when Pei Huang suddenly softened his voice and called: “Brother.”
After a moment, he began mumbling randomly: “Master’s wife…master…”
Xue Jingci swallowed his words, realizing Pei Huang was truly drunk.
And what Jar said was right—drunk, he talked nonsense. Well, when Pei Huang woke tomorrow, he’d just pretend not to know.
To get Pei Huang to rest, Xue Jingci patiently responded to whatever he called him, finally getting him to quiet down.
As night deepened, Xue Jingci reached to extinguish the candle. The room fell into darkness.
Seeing Pei Huang was heavily drunk, ordinary tea likely couldn’t help. Xue Jingci thought to go find something better.
Sensing him about to leave, the drowsy Pei Huang suddenly opened his eyes wide and wrapped his arms around Xue Jingci’s waist, holding him tightly.
“Don’t leave.”
Just two soft words made Xue Jingci stop all movement and sit back on the bed.
He could hear the barely contained anxiety in Pei Huang’s voice, so he spoke seriously: “I won’t leave.”
Hearing this, Pei Huang was like a child who’d received candy, greedily wanting more.
“Promise me you won’t leave without saying goodbye.”
“Don’t abandon me. Don’t look at others.”
“If you don’t promise, I won’t let go. Without you, I’ll die.”
Xue Jingci promised repeatedly until finally Pei Huang released him.
That night Xue Jingci watched over Pei Huang without sleeping, repeatedly contemplating his words.
Though Xue Jingci hadn’t been drinking, many things he wouldn’t normally think about, wouldn’t normally say, suddenly sprouted from his heart.
He didn’t realize he was so important to Pei Huang.
Unlike Xue Jingci’s restless night, Pei Huang slept well for once.
In his dream, he felt a gentle aura surrounding him, completely masking the bloody scent that clung to him.
Pei Huang reluctantly refused to open his eyes, indulging in this aura.
Yet suddenly he remembered something and sat up abruptly.
He’d drunk yesterday, then Xue Jingci brought him back to his room. Then what?
Pei Huang realized he must have blacked out.
He quickly looked around, desperately hoping Xue Jingci wasn’t here. But very quickly, he saw the disheveled pillow beside him.
Clearly, Xue Jingci had slept there last night.
Anxiety flooded Pei Huang’s heart. He didn’t know if he’d said anything inappropriate while drunk.
He’d always known he harbored many unspeakable feelings toward Xue Jingci.
And he clearly understood that Xue Jingci only saw him as a disciple.
So he never dared reveal anything.
But yesterday…
Pei Huang tried hard to remember if he’d done anything he shouldn’t or said anything improper.
Yet he couldn’t recall anything.
Lost in thought, Pei Huang heard footsteps. He looked up to see Xue Jingci enter with a bowl of hangover soup, still calm and quiet as usual.
Pei Huang, normally good at reading people, found his drunk senses made it impossible to judge Xue Jingci’s emotions.
After thinking, he simply asked directly: “Master… last night, did I say anything strange?”
Since Xue Jingci had remembered to bring him hangover soup, Pei Huang assumed he hadn’t said anything offensive, yet his heart remained uneasy.
Xue Jingci set down the soup and carefully recounted everything from last night—how Pei Huang had clung to him, refusing to let go, insisting he promise not to leave…
Pei Huang’s surface remained composed, but inside he felt utterly embarrassed. He grabbed the soup and buried his face in it, slowly drinking.
Finally, Xue Jingci stopped speaking.
Pei Huang sighed with relief. What he’d said was rather offensive, but it could be explained away.
For absurd expressions like “master’s wife,” he could completely claim he was thinking of the secret realm.
Pei Huang carefully considered his explanation, planning to smooth over everything he’d said, when Xue Jingci spoke again.
Xue Jingci watched Pei Huang for a long time, then said: “You also said…”
“You like your master, like him very much.”
“And you insisted I also say I like you, otherwise you wouldn’t let me leave.”
Pei Huang’s ears instantly turned crimson. He couldn’t maintain his composure.
He urgently explained: “Master, I was drunk… that’s why I was being so absurd.”
Xue Jingci looked at him steadily, then suddenly laughed softly: “But I was sober.”
“I said I also like you.”
Pei Huang’s remaining rationality completely crumbled under these words, unable to control his emotions anymore.
He desperately wanted to understand if the liking Xue Jingci spoke of was the same as his own.
Pei Huang stared at Xue Jingci’s cold eyes, his heartbeat drumming like thunder.
He set down the soup bowl and carefully leaned closer to Xue Jingci.
The strong alcohol’s scent had already faded to nearly imperceptible, yet it still delicately wrapped around Xue Jingci.
“Master…”
Pei Huang called softly, then fell silent, simply staring intently at Xue Jingci.
No one knew that from a glimpse years ago, a bright moon had taken residence in Pei Huang’s heart.
Was he struggling through mountains of swords and seas of blood, breaking through limits from desperation, all to eventually grasp the demon realm’s ultimate power, to be feared and revered by ten thousand?
No.
From the first time he drew his sword in battle, he thought of this person.
Even now that he finally stood at the center of ten thousand people, winning boundless honor, becoming the demon realm’s lord,
He only wanted this person’s more admiring gaze, wanted those eyes to always rest upon him.
This was his truest desire.
Master.
Xue Jingci waited for Pei Huang to continue, but the surroundings fell completely silent. Only Pei Huang’s increasingly rapid breathing could be heard, full of unspoken words.
“What I meant by liking is actually…”
Pei Huang paused again, as if saying this was harder than battling someone.
The two were so close. Xue Jingci felt Pei Huang’s breath gently strike his cheek, his heart inexplicably numbing and tingling, making him want to press his hand to his chest, forcibly stopping this strange sensation.
The next second, his shoulder was gently held by Pei Huang.
A kiss fell on his brow, light as a dragonfly kiss, fleeting.
He heard Pei Huang hoarsely say: “It’s this kind of meaning.”
Xue Jingci made no sound, simply looking at him.
He thought he’d misheard, but when that kiss fell, his spiritual senses had never been more acute. He could even feel the trembling warmth on those lips.
Xue Jingci had never imagined himself being held and kissed by a twenty-year-old man.
Just last night, he’d still viewed this person as his sole disciple, an important junior, swearing to protect him his entire life.
He’d heard Pei Huang say he liked him, assuming this was a disciple’s fondness for his master.
So despite being naturally cold and taciturn, he’d responded to Pei Huang, saying he also liked him.
Xue Jingci truly did like Pei Huang. In terms of both character and talent, this person was his favorite disciple ever.
He’d thought this master-disciple task would progress smoothly.
Yet now, this person kept calling him master, yet did something so improper.
It was truly absurd.
They were both men, with a master-disciple relationship. How could Pei Huang, just after becoming his disciple, be so presumptuous, harboring such inappropriate thoughts?
It was like… Xiao Xun, who’d imprisoned him, trying to make him a dao companion.
If it were anyone else, Xue Jingci would only scold them as mad, then mercilessly push them away.
But before he could act, he met Pei Huang’s eyes.
Pei Huang’s pupils were very deep—when silent, they were as cold and fierce as a beast’s, but now they were especially docile, his eyes brimming with stubbornness and sincerity.
The words Xue Jingci meant to say caught in his throat.
He recalled all they’d experienced together—the boy’s unhesitating courage in the secret realm, grasping the ghost pearl for sacrifice; his careful tending after the cliff fall; the decisiveness of severing his own meridians when controlled by Xiao Xun’s parasitic poison…
Perhaps Pei Huang was just momentarily impulsive and muddled, acting so inappropriately toward him.
Xue Jingci lowered his eyes and was silent for a moment before speaking: “I don’t understand the kind of liking you speak of.”
In his original world, he’d always been a monster-like existence. People feared his power, despised his strength.
So Xue Jingci had grown accustomed to a solitary life outside the world.
Until the main god appeared, gave him a task, and drew him from that abyss.
Only then did he begin learning to be human, studying human ethics and morals, trying to integrate into this world.
Xue Jingci understood there were many beautiful things beyond the abyss, but he didn’t dare touch them lightly, afraid his power would destroy them.
“Sorry.” Pei Huang released his hold on Xue Jingci’s shoulder and somewhat clumsily turned his gaze away. “Master, pretend you didn’t hear this.”
“Don’t send me away.”
Xue Jingci was silent a moment, then nodded.
Pei Huang left the room and went to an empty side hall, only then allowing himself to lean against the cold wall.
In the quiet room, his rough breathing echoed.
Like in his youth, one deep night waking suddenly from a dream, recalling Xue Jingci’s figure, his heart full of adolescent confusion and helplessness.
Though he knew he shouldn’t feel desire for this person, shouldn’t pull down the celestial seated on the high altar, he couldn’t help it.
Now the breach had appeared. Could the two of them still pretend nothing happened, continue as before?
Pei Huang knew it was impossible.
Going forward, he’d have to carefully hide his inappropriate gestures and thoughts, lest he truly lose this person.
Pei Huang couldn’t help but hit himself once.
He was still too greedy.
On the other hand, Xue Jingci’s mind was equally turbulent despite his calm exterior.
He sat on the bed, pressing his throbbing temples.
The system manual said great heroes shouldn’t indulge in romance. Pei Huang hadn’t even stabilized his position as demon lord yet. How could he think of such matters?
And whom he liked—not a female cultivator of his age, but ancient, boring, and much older than himself.
Pei Huang was a disciple Xue Jingci had personally chosen. He’d thought this task would go smoothly.
Yet who knew such complications would arise… Surely Pei Huang didn’t truly see him as master, harboring such improper thoughts instead.
Should he continue guiding Pei Huang?
If so, they’d inevitably have physical contact.
Xue Jingci tried to suppress his unease, reminding himself to fulfill his duty as master.
Thinking he still needed to guide Pei Huang’s sword practice today, he stood and walked outside.
The system hesitated, then quietly said: “Host, you forgot your sword.”
Xue Jingci’s form froze. Only then did he realize how uncentered his mind was.
He frowned and turned back to get his sword, suddenly hearing hurried footsteps behind him.
Realizing it was probably Pei Huang returning, Xue Jingci’s heart skipped.
He didn’t know how to face this person, so he stood rigidly in place.
Until he heard the river spirit’s urgent voice from behind: “Xiao Xun hasn’t given up on changing fates! This time he’s actually deceived Xie Zheng into the demon realm. You should go see!”
Hearing this, Xue Jingci immediately turned, only to collide with Pei Huang coming from the side hall.
Their eyes met. The air went quiet for a moment. But soon Pei Huang walked to his side, respectfully calling: “Master.”
Before the river spirit, Xue Jingci simply nodded coolly.
The strange atmosphere between them confused the river spirit, but he had no time for that now, anxious to spill all the intelligence he’d gathered.
He urgently said: “Though Xie Zheng is strong, he’s alone. If he’s harmed in the demon realm, it could incite turmoil.”
The demon realm had been fragmented for years, wild and barren. Pei Huang had long planned to stay hidden, with no intention of warring with the righteous path.
Xue Jingci also knew this was serious. Putting everything else aside, he looked at Pei Huang: “Let’s go see what’s happening with the Sand Demons.”
Within the Sand Demon territory.
Since discovering Lu Chengquan’s betrayal, Xiao Xun no longer trusted anyone.
He personally spread the news that Xue Jingci hadn’t died, successfully luring Xie Zheng to the demon realm alone.
Indeed, within three days, Xiao Xun received Xie Zheng, arriving alone.
When they met, Xie Zheng looked at Xiao Xun with complex emotions—disgust mixed with barely perceptible relief: “I didn’t expect you’d actually succeed.”
These years, as proxy sect master entrusted by the sect leader, he’d been occupied with countless sect affairs, and also needed to kill rogue cultivators attempting to break the Heavenly Gate array. He’d had no leisure for lower realm matters.
But his intelligence network was extensive, his influence spanning both realms. Of course he’d heard of Xiao Xun collecting offerings to revive Xue Jingci through unholy methods.
Xie Zheng had always despised such dark arts. Yet upon learning of this, he’d sat hollow-eyed all night on the mountainside where Xue Jingci had given him the storage pouch.
That day was the first time he’d seen Xue Jingci’s face show urgency, seeming as though he wanted to tell him something.