Chapter 64

Shen Qingqiu thought he must have misheard. “You said what?”

Tianlang-jun repeated patiently, “I asked Peak Lord Shen, have you and Luo Binghe cultivated together?”

Shen Qingqiu’s face twitched several times. Tianlang-jun continued, “Or perhaps Peak Lord Shen doesn’t understand what I mean by ‘cultivate together’? What I mean is—”

“Enough,” Shen Qingqiu cut him off.

Have some shame, will you?!

He forced himself to appear calm. “Why would you think I’ve… cultivated with him?”

“To be perfectly honest,” Tianlang-jun said, leaning back, “I have always been fascinated by the folk culture and customs of the human realm.”

“And?”

What in the world did that have to do with his question?

Tianlang-jun raised a finger and wagged it gently. Then, in a soft voice, he began to hum a tune—a melody that was languid, suggestive, and unmistakably sensual.

At first, Shen Qingqiu’s expression remained blank. But the longer Tianlang-jun hummed, the harder it became to maintain his icy composure.

Dammit! Damn you to hell, ‘Spring Mountain’s Regret’!

Has that thing actually become popular all the way in the demon realm?!

Tianlang-jun hummed through two full verses before stopping, looking utterly satisfied and wistful. “Only a place as splendid as the human realm could give birth to such a monumental masterpiece. Truly brilliant. Especially the way each installment ends on a cliffhanger, leaving one desperate for the next.”

Oh for fuck’s sake, it’s a serial publication?!

“...Wait,” Shen Qingqiu said slowly. “The first time we met at the Holy Mausoleum, you said you had ‘long admired’ me.”

Could that ‘long admiration’ have been… because of this pornographic song?

“Precisely that meaning,” Tianlang-jun confirmed cheerfully.

[System Notification: Exchanging interests and hobbies with a boss figure. Antagonist character depth increased. Pretentiousness Points +150!]

Interests and hobbies, my ass!

They were staring each other down when the dark-skinned demon girl who had tended to Shen Qingqiu until he woke came bounding past below, as lively as a gazelle. Shen Qingqiu looked closer and realized she actually had the legs of a gazelle. The girl hopped up and down, calling out loudly, “Your Highness! Is the new place we’re going to very, very good?”

Tianlang-jun waved back with a smile. “Naturally, it is the best.”

With childlike innocence, she asked, “Is there lots of water?”

“Rivers and mountains stretch across the land,” he replied.

The girl cheered and bounded away. Watching her retreating figure, Shen Qingqiu felt a growing unease. “Where exactly are you planning to relocate them?”

Tianlang-jun said leisurely, “Peak Lord Shen has already drawn his own conclusion. Why ask what you already know?”

Rivers and mountains were not common features of the demon realm’s landscape.

A “good place” undoubtedly meant the human world. “By the looks of it,” Shen Qingqiu said, “over twenty percent of the Southern Border’s demon population has gathered in this procession. Do you really believe the cultivation world won’t notice such a massive force crossing the borderlands?”

“Who said anything about crossing the borderlands?” Tianlang-jun straightened up and smiled. “What do you think I want this sword for?”

Shen Qingqiu realized he couldn’t guess the thoughts of the male lead, and apparently couldn’t guess his father’s either. So he stopped trying and asked directly, “You intend to use the Heart Devil Sword to tear an opening between the two realms?”

“To be precise,” Tianlang-jun corrected, “to merge the two realms.”

Merge the human and demon realms!

It was the equivalent of crushing two separate dimensions into one.

Shen Qingqiu didn’t find the idea inconceivable. On the contrary, he was certain that with the Heart Devil Sword in hand, such an apparently absurd fantasy could absolutely be achieved.

Because there was canonical precedent!

The merger of the two realms was precisely the deranged act the original Luo Binghe had undertaken near the story’s climax to fully unify the demon realm and the cultivation world.

Shen Qingqiu had always thought he understood the original “Luo Binghe” best. But now, remembering that character, he felt a strange, vast distance between them. That “Luo Binghe” hadn’t cared at all about the catastrophic consequences. His reasoning had been that separate realms were inconvenient to rule, resources were unbalanced, and his demonic wives and underlings were constantly bickering and annoying him—so he’d merged the realms for easier management.

Shen Qingqiu’s voice turned low and heavy. “...Is this the ‘gift’ you intend to give? The malice in it is overwhelming.”

Tianlang-jun stroked his chin, his tone mild. “I truly bear no malice. I am quite fond of the human realm. Facilitating closer exchange between our peoples has long been a wish of mine.”

“Are you truly oblivious, or simply indifferent?” Shen Qingqiu’s eyebrow arched. “Demons might adapt to the human world, but how many non-cultivator humans could adapt to the demon realm?” He chose his next words carefully, emphasizing them. “Even if you ‘like’ humans, can you guarantee all demons will? The two realms have existed apart since antiquity, and even then, conflict is endless. If merged recklessly, you can forget about a single day of peace.”

Tianlang-jun sighed with apparent helplessness. “Peak Lord Shen truly is a product of the Four Great Sects. Always this same tune. I, too, would prefer not to act so hastily. But as things stand, I have no choice but to see it through. We’ll merge first and work out the details later. Given time, things will settle.”

A world-altering event was just “hasty” to him. The logic of his final statement was essentially equivalent to saying, Just force the issue, and the other party will eventually comply. Force it first, and talk later.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but ask, “You and Su Xiyan… was that also just for the sake of ‘closer exchange between peoples’?”

Tianlang-jun let out a soft sigh. “Xiyan. She was wonderful. I did like her.” His tone shifted, and he spread his hands. “But she is dead now.”

Because she’s dead, you feel no lingering attachment?

In the end, a demon’s affection is too fleeting, too cold.

If that was how he treated the woman he’d loved, his feelings for his own son couldn’t be much better. After a moment of silence, Shen Qingqiu asked, “What exactly are your thoughts regarding Luo Binghe?”

Luo Binghe had never spoken of it, but Shen Qingqiu knew the boy harbored fantasies about his birth parents.

He only knew he was born of a noble human woman and a noble of the Heavenly Demon bloodline. He didn’t know their names, their faces.

He had secretly imagined, all this time, how good they would have been to him if they’d lived. If Luo Binghe knew his father was like this, those imaginings would be revealed as the pitiful fantasies they were.

Tianlang-jun glanced at him. “Do you ache for him?”

Shen Qingqiu snorted.

All bosses are chuuni. That’s just the way of the world. But Tianlang-jun was a special case. In the past, he’d been a naive, idealistic chuuni, believing he could save the world and bring love and peace between the races. After being crushed beneath Bailu Mountain for so many years, he now harbored a chuuni idealism tinged with unconscious malice.

I have to tell Luo Binghe about Tianlang-jun’s plan. Get him to find a way to send a message to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, so they can at least prepare.

As night fell, the dust-choked procession halted on a vast, wild plain and made camp.

Only the relatively few humanoid demons actually needed tents. The beast-type demons slept under the open sky—in dirt hollows, atop trees, on the grass, anywhere would do.

Shen Qingqiu’s resting place was a comfortable, spacious white tent. Simple on the outside, it was fully furnished within. Zhuzhi-lang personally arranged everything before ushering him inside.

The moment the demon girl who had followed him departed, Shen Qingqiu eagerly lay down on the bed and closed his eyes to sleep. He was waiting for Luo Binghe to enter his dreams.

He didn’t know how much time had passed when he suddenly sensed a shift in the moonlight filtering through the tent. Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes to find Luo Binghe half-kneeling beside the bed.

“Luo Binghe, listen to me—” Shen Qingqiu got half the sentence out before Luo Binghe pounced.

Shen Qingqiu was caught squarely, pressed back into the bedding. His mouth was sealed by something warm and soft before he could make a sound, leaving him wide-eyed and furious, his face flushing red. Luo Binghe showed no restraint, his kisses growing fiercer, more desperate, until they became almost feral, like a young beast gnawing and biting.

Shen Qingqiu finally managed to gasp for air. “Luo Binghe!... What madness has taken you?!”

He meant it as a scolding, but the words came out breathless, more like a flustered complaint. Luo Binghe’s voice was thick with resentment. “Continuing where we left off last time.”

He dares bring up last time! Last time, I must have been possessed not to kick him away! Last time, their lips had been a hair’s breadth from touching when Shen Qingqiu woke up. Remembering it now made his face burn. Thankfully, the candle had gone out, or the sight would have been truly something.

Stop.

Shen Qingqiu suddenly realized their surroundings were not the bamboo hut on Qing Jing Peak.

Which meant… this wasn’t a dream?!

He sat bolt upright. Sure enough, he could see the torchlight of patrolling demon soldiers outside the tent and hear the howls of wolves, the lowing of ox-demons, and the deliberately hushed shouts.

Luo Binghe was standing in his tent. Not in a dreamscape. He was here in person.

This is… utterly reckless!

Shen Qingqiu felt like he might cough up blood. “Have you lost your mind?! Coming here alone, delivering yourself right to them! At least twenty percent of the Southern Border’s demons are in this camp, plus two others of your same bloodline. If you’re discovered, you’re courting death!”

Luo Binghe patted his back soothingly even as he spoke. “Shizun, I couldn’t snatch you away openly. I was afraid he’d activate the blood parasite inside you. But you can’t expect me to just sit and wait. Please don’t scold me, Shizun. I truly couldn’t help myself!”

Without the Heart Devil Sword to use as a portal, crossing the Northern Border to get here was a journey of at least a thousand miles. Shen Qingqiu wanted to smack the back of his head, but the thought of that arduous journey made him hesitate. Seeing Luo Binghe take advantage of the moment, one knee already pressing onto the bed, Shen Qingqiu immediately summoned his authority as a master. “Have you forgotten,” he warned sternly, “that this master has agreed to nothing yet?”

Luo Binghe’s argument was shamelessly logical. “I said it last time, Shizun. Either kill me, or call out—one shout, and those ugly brutes outside will swarm in. Since you haven’t called out, you must have agreed.”

The sheer audacity of it drew a strained laugh from Shen Qingqiu. What kind of choice was that? Kill him or let him have his way—only an idiot would play along!

He had to correct himself. This wasn’t boldness. This was pure, unadulterated lust.

Shen Qingqiu couldn’t kick him without risking noise, so he kept pushing Luo Binghe’s head away, struggling to maintain a stern facade. “When you came in… did anyone notice?”

As if there was any doubt the protagonist could slip through an army undetected. “Of course not,” Luo Binghe said. “If I want to enter, no one will see me. There’s just one thing to worry about…”

Before he could say what, a soft, deliberate cough sounded from outside the tent.

Zhu Zhilang’s voice followed. “Immortal Master Shen? Are you resting?”

At the sound, killing intent flashed in Luo Binghe’s eyes, sharp and cold as a blade. Shen Qingqiu quickly pressed a hand against his chest, shooting him a warning glare.

Instead of calming down, Luo Binghe’s cheeks flushed faintly pink under his gaze. Shen Qingqiu had no time to dwell on his disciple’s apparent masochism. With demonic guards patrolling outside and nowhere to hide inside, he threw back the blankets. Luo Binghe understood instantly and slid beneath them without a sound.

Zhu Zhilang murmured to himself outside, “Resting so early?”

Yes, so leave!

A moment of silence stretched. Shen Qingqiu was about to relax when Zhu Zhilang spoke again. “Then… this humble one will intrude.”

So you were coming in whether I was asleep or not?!

Then why even ask?!

Luo Binghe poked his head out, eyes blazing with suspicion and anger. “What does that snake want, coming in while Shizun sleeps?”

Just stay hidden, you brat!!!

Shen Qingqiu shoved his head back under the covers and sprang from the bed. “Don’t come in!”

Zhu Zhilang stopped, confusion evident in his voice. “You’re awake? Why didn’t you answer earlier, Immortal Master Shen?”

“I was tired. Didn’t want to talk.” Shen Qingqiu forced a casual tone. “Just leave, Zhilang.”

Zhu Zhilang paused. “But we agreed during the day…”

Damn it. He was right. They had agreed—Zhu Zhilang would come tonight to extract the remaining threads of lingering affection.

Luo Binghe’s face emerged again, voice a heated whisper. “Agreed to what?”

Before Shen Qingqiu could answer, he piled a second quilt over Luo Binghe and yanked the bed curtain shut just as Zhu Zhilang stepped inside.

The demon held the small golden brazier, his gaze carefully averted. “Forgive the intrusion at this late hour, Immortal Master. But leaving the threads unremoved may lead to… complications.”

Kicking him out now would only raise suspicion. Besides, for some inexplicable reason, Zhu Zhilang seemed reluctant to look directly at him. They just had to be careful.

Shen Qingqiu positioned himself in front of the bed curtain, offering a thin smile. “I understand. My apologies for the trouble.”

“It is my duty.” Zhu Zhilang bowed slightly. “Why does the Immortal Master not move to the bed…” He took a step forward, but Shen Qingqiu shifted to block him, grabbing his arm and spinning him gently in place.

Once Zhu Zhilang’s back was to the bed, Shen Qingqiu said, “Not on the bed. Here is fine.”

Confused but too polite to protest, Zhu Zhilang merely asked, “Standing?”

“Standing.”

“Can you endure it that way?”

Behind him, Luo Binghe threw off the quilts, a surge of dark energy and murderous aura boiling around him. Shen Qingqiu ignored it completely, keeping his eyes fixed ahead. “I’m used to it.”

Zhu Zhilang nodded and turned to place the brazier on a small table. In that split second, Shen Qingqiu sent a silent pulse of energy toward the bed, smacking Luo Binghe back into the mattress and hastily recovering him. By the time Zhu Zhilang turned back, everything appeared perfectly normal.

He lifted a glowing piece of charcoal with tongs. “Please remove your outer robe, Immortal Master.”

Shen Qingqiu looked down and began slowly, painfully slowly, to untie his sash. He didn’t dare hurry. If he actually undressed, Luo Binghe would probably tear the bed—and its occupants—apart.

His movements were so sluggish that Zhu Zhilang finally glanced over. “Is your hand troubling you, Immortal Master? Do you require assistance?”

Seeing his eyes lift, Shen Qingqiu yanked his collar open in a sudden motion. The outer robe slipped from his shoulders and pooled at his feet.