You can also read it on Tapas and Inkitt, or the NSFW version (+ illustrations) on Patreon.
Chapter 12: Month 9, Part 2
FU JING’S HEART dropped. He’d been so deep in his own misery that he’d completely forgotten about Xiao Song!
“Is it a black cat with yellow eyes?”
Both Xuan Qi and the servant looked at him, slightly surprised.
“Yes, sir,” the servant replied.
Fu Jing’s eyes widened, and without another word, he jumped out of bed and rushed down the marble stairs, taking three steps at a time. Ignoring the pouring rain, he bolted outside without boots, a coat, or even an umbrella.
His bare feet splashed through puddles as he sprinted down the broad street toward the main gate.
When he arrived, he frantically looked left and right, and sure enough—to his left he spotted a small, black kitten sitting pitifully on the ground, drenched to the bone.
Xiao Song looked up with a sad, miserable gaze, his big eyes round and wet. But the moment he saw Fu Jing, his ears perked up and his little face brightened.
Fu Jing’s heart felt lighter at the sight of his small companion, only for the feeling to be swiftly drowned by a crushing wave of guilt. A soft, tearful smile spread across his face as he opened his arms in an inviting gesture. Xiao Song didn’t hesitate and leapt right into his embrace.
The two of them stood in the storm’s torrents, wallowing in the warmth and solace they provided each other—when the downpour suddenly stopped.
Fu Jing blinked in confusion. It hadn’t stopped at all. The rain was still falling heavily around them, just not on them. He turned his head and found Xuan Qi standing beside him, silently holding an umbrella over their heads.
Xuan Qi eyed the cat in Fu Jing’s arms. “Who’s that?”
A gentle smile bloomed on Fu Jing’s face. “My home.”
Without offering further explanation, he stepped past Xuan Qi and back into the palace. Already soaking wet, Fu Jing didn’t care whether he was covered by an umbrella or not.
Xuan Qi remained where he stood, as if rooted to the spot. His grip on the umbrella tightened.
Back in the master bedroom, Fu Jing gently rubbed Xiao Song dry with a towel. When Xuan Qi returned to this scene, his face darkened.
Seeing Fu Jing being so warm and tender with someone else felt like a sharp pinprick to his heart. Suddenly irritated, he strode forward and snatched the towel from Fu Jing’s hands. Xiao Song shrank back.
“You should dry yourself off first,” Xuan Qi grumbled.
Fu Jing, who’d been staring at his suddenly empty hands, lifted his head. “I was in the rain for a few minutes. Xiao Song’s been out there for days. He’s soaked to the bone, probably freezing to death. I need to warm him up.”
“It’s a yao,” Xuan Qi retorted sharply. “It doesn’t need the same care and attention as a human.”
Fu Jing glared at Xuan Qi. “Give me back the towel.”
“Fine.” Xuan Qi tossed the towel into Fu Jing’s face before dropping heavily onto the wooden chair with crossed arms and a pout. “I won’t bring you soup if you get sick.”
Fu Jing imitated him in a mocking tone, then turned his full attention back to Xiao Song. The black kitten was purring, leaning into the good rubs. As soon as Xiao Song was dry, Fu Jing stood up.
“Can you hand me dry robes?” he asked without looking in Xuan Qi’s direction, but the demon pointedly ignored him.
Very well, Fu Jing thought and began to strip demonstratively. He loosened his belt and yanked off his wet robes. When his hands wrapped around the waistband of his pants, Xuan Qi could no longer take it.
“Stop it.”
Fu Jing smirked. He knew how much Xuan Qi hated the idea of him being naked in front of others—even small, innocent creatures like Xiao Song. When Fu Jing tugged at his waistband, Xuan Qi finally caved in. Cursing under his breath, he went to fetch a fresh set of white robes, which he shoved into Fu Jing’s hands.
“Thanks,” Fu Jing said with a self-satisfied smile.
However, when Fu Jing invited Xiao Song into their bed, Xuan Qi had enough. “It will not sleep with us.”
Fu Jing frowned. “But I like his warmth. I’ve spent every night with him, and we’ve always shared a bed.”
At those words, Xuan Qi’s eyebrows twitched. A vein bulged on his forehead, threatening to explode.
“Get it out,” he ground through gritted teeth.
“He can sleep on my side of the bed,” Fu Jing argued. “You won’t even notice him.”
Fed up with Fu Jing’s stubbornness, one of Xuan Qi’s hands shot out to grab Xiao Song, but Fu Jing was swift enough to shield the kitten with his body.
“Ugh, fine,” he relented. “At least let me prepare a proper bed for him.”
Xuan Qi rubbed his temple with two fingers, but made no further objection. When Fu Jing finally returned from tucking Xiao Song in, Xuan Qi’s tone was clipped. “Are you done?”
Fu Jing humphed. “What are you so impatient for? You can sleep without me, you know.”
At first, Xuan Qi was somewhat relieved that Fu Jing had returned to his old self. On second thought, though, he might prefer the apathetic version to this insolent brat after all.
As soon as Fu Jing laid down beside him, Xuan Qi pulled the blanket over them and wrapped an arm around Fu Jing. Fu Jing’s breathing was calm and his body warm despite having been in the rain mere moments ago.
When Fu Jing opened his eyes, he stood in front of the realm gate. He didn’t remember how he got here, but he also didn’t question it.
Because what he saw wasn’t the white, swirling light—it was sunshine and green meadows shimmering through.
The human realm.
His heart skipped a beat. Utterly mesmerised, he slowly approached the gate. His hand rose as if by itself, and when he tentatively reached out, his fingers slipped through the barrier.
Surprised, he quickly pulled it back. Then, something clicked in his mind.
The gate was open!
He took a cautious step forward—and went through! This time, however, he didn’t pull back.
Once his foot touched human soil, he immediately poked his head through the barrier. The green of the vast, open plains was so vibrant, he had to squint his eyes. It had been ages since he’d seen real daylight.
But Fu Jing didn’t mind the brightness. He’d get used to it soon enough. Right now, he was far too elated to care.
As soon as he’d walked through, he drew in a deep breath of fresh air. He crouched down, brushing his fingers gently through the soft grass beneath his feet.
Then, he abruptly jolted upright as a chilling realisation swept over him. Was he safe??
Nervous, he darted glances in every direction, his heart pounding against his ribs. He scanned every shadow, every bush, every tree—but no one was there. No demons. No monsters. No threats.
He took a step away from the gate. Then another.
Nothing happened.
He couldn’t believe it… He was free!
A burst of energy shot through him, and he broke into a run. Away from the demon realm, away from Xuan Qi, away from the torment and misery. He ran back home—back to the warmth and comfort that awaited him.
As he ran over the fields and through the woods that separated him from his hometown, time seemed to pass in a flash. Though he must’ve run for hours, it felt like mere minutes.
Once he reached the entrance of his hometown, he spotted Jin Yang and Chen Xing and sprinted even faster. Before they could react, he had already thrown himself into their arms.
His companions froze in shock, but returned the hug nonetheless. Tears flowed down Fu Jing’s face without restraint. It didn’t take long for Jin Yang and Chen Xing to follow suit.
“It’s been so long,” Fu Jing sobbed.
“We thought you were dead,” Chen Xing bawled.
Jin Yang didn’t say anything, his lips pressed tightly together as he fought to hold back his own tears.
Only when they escorted Fu Jing home, did Jin Yang find his words. “What happened? When you didn’t return by nightfall, we tried to enter, but the gate was sealed by a barrier!”
Fu Jing let out a long, weary sigh. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain everything when we’re at my place.”
Jin Yang and Chen Xing nodded in acknowledgement, asking no further questions.
Outside the house, his mother was trimming a flowering branch with a pair of garden shears. The moment she saw her son, the shears slipped from her hands and fell into the grass. She rushed over, wrapping him in a tight, tearful embrace.
She cupped his cheek and brushed the long silky hair that framed his face behind his ears. “You’re here. You’re alive,” she repeated over and over between sobs.
And Fu Jing nodded through his own tears, “I am. I am.”
She turned to Jin Yang and Chen Xing to hug them as well, thanking them for bringing her son back home. Both men stood flustered as they’d never been hugged by her before. They blushed, mumbling some words of courtesy.
Fu Jing’s mother led them inside and ushered them to the dining table. As they sat down, Fu Jing asked, “Where’s dad?”
“In a meeting,” Jin Yang replied. “Still trying to find a way to break the realm gate’s barrier… We tried many methods, but only got so far…”
Fu Jing was relieved to hear that. Unlike his imagination, they hadn’t given up on him. He silently scolded himself for ever doubting them.
But it didn’t matter anymore. He was home. All was good.
True to his word, he recounted the past nine months of his time in the demon realm—carefully omitting the torture part to not worry them. After finishing his story, his mother and friends wanted to give him some time and space to rest.
Fu Jing retreated to his room. Though it was clean and well-maintained, the stale air made it obvious that the space hadn’t been used in a very long time.
Sitting on the bed, he bounced lightly, as if testing the bedding. This felt right. This felt like home. It was home.
Fu Jing let himself fall back, taking a deep, deep breath. This was what freedom felt like. Light and sweet. He closed his eyes and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
When he woke up again, he found himself in darkness. Jolting upright, he took a moment to reorient himself.
Muffled voices drifted from outside—his parents. A wave of relief washed over him. All was good. He considered getting up to greet his father, but the sound of their voices was so soothing, he immediately drifted back to sleep.
The next morning, Fu Jing felt absolutely refreshed, his spirit lighter than it had been in months.
And then it hit him. The demon had lied! He’d spent an entire day and night in the human realm, and nothing had happened. It probably had just been a devious ploy to manipulate Fu Jing into staying.
But none of that mattered anymore.
He was home. And all was good.
His father, however, wasn’t as lenient as his mother. After Fu Jing reported what he’d been through over breakfast, his father pushed him to train harder so that something like this would never happen again.
And Fu Jing agreed. He wanted to become stronger. Strong enough to defend himself and one day take his revenge on the demon.
Thus, Fu Jing quickly resumed his routine of practising swordplay with his companions, cultivating his powers, and exorcising evil.
The more time passed, the more his stay in the demon realm became a dark memory. Soon, he was able to sleep through a whole night without jolting awake, soaked in sweat.
Days went by and all was good.
Until one night.
Fu Jing was deep in a peaceful slumber when something brushed against his calf. Half-awake, he dismissed it as a fragment of imagination—just another dream bleeding into reality. It happened all the time.
Rolling over, he tried to fall back asleep, but then there was a firm tug on his ankle.
This time, he jerked awake. His eyes snapped open, and he froze, staring right into the grisly face of a monster.
And it wasn’t alone.
His room was full of them, each shadowy creature clawing and reaching for him. Hands gripped and tore at his body, yanking and pulling with terrifying force.
He fought back with everything he had, thrashing and struggling, but it was useless. Their grasp was too strong.
Cold sweat drenched his body as his eyes flicked toward the window.
His stomach dropped.
A full moon was suspended in the dark, starry sky, casting its cool, pale light down on Fu Jing without mercy.
The monsters pulled harder, their claws and teeth sinking deep into his skin.
He felt muscles tear like wet fabric, joints popping from their sockets with sickening cracks. The sound of flesh ripping and bones crunching echoed through the room, mingling with his own agonised screams.
He was being ripped apart, limb by limb, devoured alive.
In his panic, the first name that burst from his lips was “Xuan Qi!”
Fu Jing choked on a sob. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…,” he cried, even though he knew it was pointless. No one could hear him. Yet, he couldn’t stop. It hurt too much.
“Please help me! I swear I won’t run away again… I’ll stay with you! I promise! Xuan Qi!!”
“I’m here.”
Fu Jing’s eyes flew open at the sound of the deep, familiar voice. He frantically searched the room. Was he somewhere among the crowd of monsters? He couldn’t see him in this swarm of hideous faces!
Fingers brushed over his forehead. Unlike the other hands that seized him, it was a gentle touch.
“Xuan Qi?” Fu Jing rasped.
“I’m here,” the demon repeated. “Calm down.”
“But it hurts,” Fu Jing sobbed. “It hurts too much.”
“I know. Just take a deep breath.”
Fu Jing didn’t know what good it would do, but with no other options, he did as he was told. He took a deep breath—and snapped awake coughing, gasping for air like a man who’d almost drowned.
And just like a drowning man, he instinctively grasped at anything that would keep him afloat. In this case, it was the solid arm of Xuan Qi.
“Xuan Qi…,” Fu Jing croaked, dazed and disoriented.
“Yes.”
Fu Jing buried his head in the crook of Xuan Qi’s arm, panting heavily, his body shaking. Sweat clung to him like a second skin.
“I’m back…”
“You were never gone.”
Fu Jing’s brow furrowed, clearly confused.
“You’re sick,” Xuan Qi said, wiping Fu Jing’s forehead with his free hand. “You’ve been in and out of consciousness for a few days now. We tried to recreate human medicine, but nothing works. The fever won’t go down.”
“Meow!”
Xiao Song sat beside Xuan Qi, his golden eyes wide with concern as he stared at Fu Jing. He gently placed a paw on Fu Jing’s arm, as if to reassure him he was safe.
It took Fu Jing a moment to adjust to reality, but once he did, a sense of bittersweet relief washed over him.
He let himself fall back with a heavy groan, draping an arm over his eyes to shield them from the light. His head throbbed violently.
He sniffed, his voice nasal. “Just get it from the human realm.”
Xuan Qi scoffed. “You think they’d sell it to me?”
“Send Xiao Song then.”
“You think they’d sell it to a cat?”
“…” Right. Cats understanding the human language wasn’t a thing in the human realm—at least they’d be considered highly suspicious.
Fu Jing sighed. “Then I don’t know, man. Just let me die.”
Xuan Qi chuckled softly. “This is the longest you’ve been conscious for a while. Looks like you’re out of the woods—a bit of tea and soup should do the trick now.”
Fu Jing scowled. “Are you kidding me? My head is about to explode.”
Xuan Qi placed a hand on Fu Jing’s forehead, channelling energy into him. A moment later, Fu Jing’s headache was gone.
“…Why didn’t you use that for my fever?”
“I tried,” Xuan Qi replied with a faint smile. “Didn’t work.”
“…Huh. So you can heal with demonic qi? How ironic.”
“We get hurt too, you know.”
“Hm.” Fu Jing wasn’t in the mood to debate the justification of demon lives, so he turned on his side, away from the demon, and closed his eyes to rest up.
I’m not super proud of how this turned out but after 11 hours I finally finished it!! One of these days I’ll get better at drawing environments and backgrounds
I just fucking love love love when a narrative shows me a character who is an insufferable and badly behaved bully being propped up by an even shittier familal authority figure assuring them that they are a Special Princess who deserves to walk all over everyone else, and then the narrative pulls back a little and shows me that in fact the love and support of that authority figure is Deeply Conditional and Finite and this bully is both aware of it and haunted by that knowledge. Their Special Princess Swagger is PAPER thin
You can also read it on Tapas and Inkitt, or the NSFW version (+ illustrations) on Patreon.
Chapter 11: Month 9, Part 1
ANOTHER THREE WEEKS later, Fu Jing’s project was coming along wonderfully. It almost looked like a full-fledged cottage now.
It only had one room, the entire space easily taken in at a glance. An elegant divider, handcrafted by Fu Jing, separated the sleeping area from the dining area.
It was small, but cosy—and that’s all they needed.
Fu Jing stood with his hands on his hips, proudly admiring his work, while Xiao Song took a well-earned nap. The two had spent the entire morning shaping roof tiles from clay.
Fu Jing was about to call out to Xiao Song when he was startled by the sound of cracking branches behind him. He whirled around, only to see Xuan Qi approaching.
Fu Jing’s countenance instantly turned grim. “Ah. What do you want?”
The demon stopped beside Fu Jing and crossed his arms, his gaze settling on the wooden structure. Ignoring Fu Jing’s spiteful tone, he asked, “What are you doing?”
Fu Jing raised an eyebrow, gesturing broadly toward the cottage. “Building a house. …Are you blind?”
“…” Xuan Qi remained sceptical. “You already have a perfectly fine home,” he said, pointing with his thumb at the palace peeking through the trees in the distance.
Fu Jing snorted. “Very funny.”
Xuan Qi rolled his eyes and continued, “Anyways, you gotta stop.”
“Huh?”
“You’ve been taking all these resources without asking. People are complaining.”
“Ah?? I thought I was free to do whatever I want?”
“You are. But you need my approval first.”
Xuan Qi languidly raised an arm, his palm aiming at the small house.
Alarmed, Fu Jing quickly leapt in front of the cottage, frantically waving his hands. “No, no, no! Don’t! I’ll compensate them!”
“Oh?” Xuan Qi arched his eyebrows, but kept his arm raised. “How?”
Fu Jing rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know… what do they want?”
“Justice.”
Fu Jing breathed an exasperated sigh. “Can’t we just give them money?”
“Do you have any?”
“No. But you do.”
“Too bad my money isn’t yours.”
Fu Jing balled his hands into fists, anger roiling in his chest. “You owe me!”
“I owe you shit. But…” Xuan Qi tapped a finger against his chin, “There’s a way it could become yours, too,” he said, his face smug.
“I’m not going to marry you.”
“Well, then…” Xuan Qi directed his palm toward the cottage once more.
“No, no, no, wait!” Fu Jing said hastily, waving his hands. “Let me… Let me think about it… okay?”
Xuan Qi finally lowered his arm and sent Fu Jing a satisfied smile before leaving.
Seeing the demon’s triumphant expression, Fu Jing couldn’t shake the suspicion that there were no actual complaints—that Xuan Qi had simply made them up to force him into this dilemma.
Heavily dejected by his encounter with the demon, Fu Jing did what he knew best: drown his sorrows.
He was in his regular tavern at his regular spot by the counter. His body was slumped, his usually graceful posture pulled down by the weight of his thoughts. He didn’t know how many drinks he’d had when someone sat down beside him.
At first, Fu Jing didn’t want to acknowledge this person. But when he felt the intensity of an almost penetrating gaze on him, he unwittingly glanced up.
His eyes slightly widened in recognition. It was the same stranger he’d met before—the demon with yellow eyes and yellow horns. He calmly watched Fu Jing, his cheek resting on one hand. His loose, black curls draped over his back and shoulders, and his robes were a mix of black and white.
Fu Jing’s eyes once again flicked to Xiao Song, who was perched on the counter, then back at the man. The resemblance was uncanny.
But it also meant the alluring stranger hadn’t been an illusion after all!
Fu Jing looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Who are you?”
The stranger arched his eyebrows, as if surprised Fu Jing didn’t know him. “Me? I’m Han Jiu.”
Fu Jing nodded to himself for a moment, then raised his cup. “Nice to meet you.”
Han Jiu returned the gesture with a bright smile. They shared idle conversation over a few jugs of wine.
“You’re a human?” Han Jiu asked in disbelief. “I couldn’t tell!”
“Mhmm… and I can’t leave because of that bastard Xuan Qi.”
Han Jiu tilted his head. “Why? What did he do?” He leaned closer to Fu Jing, now whispering, “…Did he curse you?”
Feeling caught, Fu Jing paused for a moment. “…No.”
Fu Jing really liked this Han Jiu fella, because he had a much more pleasant personality than Xuan Qi and seemed less cruel.
Afraid of spoiling his pristine image in the eyes of his new friend, Fu Jing was reluctant to tell him the whole truth. To spare Han Jiu unnecessary details, Fu Jing simply said, “He locked the realm gate with a barrier.”
With a pensive expression, Han Jiu looked down at his own cup, his fingers tracing over the rim. After a moment, he turned back to Fu Jing with a broad smile.
“I can help you open the gate.”
Fu Jing’s eyes widened. “Really?!”
“Of course.”
“That would be amazing! I really could use some help.”
Han Jiu jumped to his feet. “Great, then lead me to the gate!”
Fu Jing blinked. “Now?” He was slightly overwhelmed by the spontaneity. “I… have nothing to repay you with.”
“Don’t worry about it! We’ll think of payment later,” Han Jiu offered with a warm smile.
Fu Jing hesitated. “I’d love to, but… but not tonight.”
The full moon was fast approaching, and the thought of leaving with a stranger made him uneasy. He wasn’t prepared at all—what if they actually succeeded? Wouldn’t he need Xuan Qi to renew the suppression of the curse?
His train of thought came to an abrupt halt when Han Jiu extended a polite hand, his smile relentless. “Oh yes, tonight,” he insisted.
Fu Jing wanted to decline again, but before he could say No, the word caught in his throat. His smile froze. It suddenly felt as if his entire body was weighed down by an oppressive aura. His back was immediately covered in a thin layer of cold sweat.
Han Jiu’s smile stretched even wider, curving his eyes. “You want to go home, right?”
Fu Jing turned his head toward Han Jiu, his face ashen, and nodded despite himself.
Han Jiu beamed at him. “Then let’s not waste another minute!” He held his hand even closer to Fu Jing, who took it despite himself.
Han Jiu helped Fu Jing off his stool and led the way, and Fu Jing followed despite himself.
Fu Jing was scared witless. He had no idea what was happening or why Han Jiu was so insistent.
Worse still, if he didn’t return on time to suppress the curse, he’d die!
But as much as he wanted to struggle, his body wouldn’t obey. So when the demon pulled him along, it looked like Fu Jing was going willingly.
Before they could leave the tavern, however, a broad, large figure with crossed arms blocked their path. Fu Jing didn’t need to raise his head to know who it was.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Xuan Qi’s deep voice rumbled. This time, his words weren’t directed at Fu Jing, but at Han Jiu.
Han Jiu’s smile didn’t fade at all. “Home.”
“You have no right to take him.”
Han Jiu sneered at him. “And who are you to tell me what rights I have? He’s coming with me willingly,” he turned to Fu Jing, his voice intoxicatingly sweet, “Aren’t you?”
Fu Jing nodded once more despite himself. His free hand clutched his robes, beads of cold sweat trickling down his face. His entire body was trembling.
“I’m his husband,” Xuan Qi replied coolly.
The room fell silent. Even Han Jiu seemed stunned for a moment, but then he snorted. “Pfft! You’re not married. I would know.”
“Not yet,” Xuan Qi corrected him.
Under different circumstances, Fu Jing would’ve loved to smother that demonic mouth of his; but right now, Xuan Qi could spout whatever nonsense he wanted if it would get Fu Jing out of this situation.
Han Jiu clicked his tongue. “Alright, alright,” he said and shoved Fu Jing into Xuan Qi’s chest. “Then tell your future husband to stay out of other people’s territories.”
With that, he stalked off.
The oppressive aura on Fu Jing’s body gradually disappeared and it finally felt like he could breathe again. He clutched Xuan Qi’s vest, frantically gasping for air.
Xuan Qi had one arm firmly wrapped around Fu Jing’s shoulders, pressing him close. His expression was dark and resolute as he said, “You’re coming with me.”
Still too shaken to argue, Fu Jing let himself be dragged away.
Back at the palace, Fu Jing was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face as white as a sheet. One arm was folded tightly across his chest as he gnawed on a finger of his other hand, deep in thought.
“This is why you need my scent,” Xuan Qi explained, pointing an angry finger at an invisible Han Jiu. “That time you ran off, you treaded into his territory and almost ran into his arms!”
Fu Jing stayed silent, the dark circles under his bulging eyes making him look like a ghost.
“So… he’s one of the four demon lords?” he finally rasped.
Xuan Qi sat down beside him. “Yes.”
“Can you do the same?”
“Yes.”
“But you never did,” Fu Jing mumbled.
Xuan Qi scoffed. “Now you see how kind I am?”
Fu Jing ignored Xuan Qi’s remark. His head was all over the place. “Why would he want me? He doesn’t even know me.”
“You’re a high-level cultivator,” Xuan Qi replied. “You’re a highly valued treasure in this realm.”
Fu Jing whipped his head toward Xuan Qi. He might not be able to use his spiritual powers here, but strong demons sure could suck it all out of him. His stomach twisted at the thought.
“Is that why you lured me down here?” he asked evenly.
Xuan Qi sucked in a sharp breath. Crossing his legs, he rested his interlocked hands on one knee. “To be honest, I just wanted to have some fun.”
“Why me?”
“You were there.”
“So what,” Fu Jing smiled in disbelief, his eyes glazing over, “you’re saying it was all random?”
“Humans…” Xuan Qi scoffed. “You lot always need to find meaning in everything. Sometimes, things just happen. When I swat a fly or mosquito, it’s because they simply chose the wrong time and place to annoy me.”
Fu Jing narrowed his eyes. “Are you comparing me to insects?”
Xuan Qi let out a dry laugh. “I love your innate ability to jump to the wildest conclusions.”
“If it could’ve been anyone, what if that person had been as broad and tall as you? Would you’ve been able to torture them as easily?!”
“Well, I never intended to keep you,” Xuan Qi returned. “How was I supposed to know you’d just randomly snack some foreign food? In the demon realm, no less. I thought you were smarter than that. And falling for such a blatantly obvious lure as well…” Shaking his head in feigned disappointment, he leaned back, propping himself up on one arm.
Fu Jing’s face soured, but he had to swallow his pride. There was no dignified way to retort. He now had both arms crossed and turned away from Xuan Qi, sulking.
“Fine,” Fu Jing said weakly. “I’ll stay. But only for tonight. The scent lasts for two–”
“It doesn’t.”
“Huh?”
“The scent doesn’t last for two weeks,” Xuan Qi said. “I told you, you just had dumb luck. You’ve only encountered low-level demons or creatures that simply don’t care about humans. Most of them are already intimidated by your own formidable aura.
“If you want to blend in and avoid drawing the attention of stronger demons, you’ll have to stay with me every day. Most of the demons in this area know you’re my human, so they won’t dare lay a finger on you. But there are powerful demons who won’t be deterred by you and will take advantage.”
Fu Jing felt his heart crack. He slowly turned back, staring at Xuan Qi in blank horror.
He couldn’t believe how much power a stupid little mistake in the shape of an incredibly sweet berry could have over his life. And to make matters worse, now that he had met another high-level demon, he had to admit he wouldn’t be able to defend himself after all.
He found himself caught in a dilemma—there were two paths he could take, and both ended in misery.
Though his eyes were fixed on Xuan Qi, he couldn’t make out the demon’s expression. His vision was blurred by tears. The dark fog clouding his mind seemed to dim his surroundings as well.
A sense of vulnerability overtook his sanity. His body almost moved on its own as he grasped Xuan Qi, straddling the demon from one moment to the next and pulling him into a desperate kiss.
Caught off guard, Xuan Qi froze. Fu Jing seemed to be just as startled by his own action, jerking back almost immediately. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Fu Jing abandoned all reason and kissed him again.
Xuan Qi didn’t protest—on the contrary, he fully leaned into it.
Whenever his tongue poked into Fu Jing’s mouth, the latter bit down, but Xuan Qi didn’t mind. His hands, which had been resting on Fu Jing’s thighs, slowly slid upward until they reached Fu Jing’s ass and brusquely groped it.
Fu Jing suddenly broke the kiss, gasping for air, his chest heaving. His glazed eyes locked with Xuan Qi’s, heavy with silent despair, as tears dripped down his cheeks like translucent pearls. Xuan Qi stared right back, his excitement winning out over his befuddlement. He pushed Fu Jing onto the bed, the motion both gentle and fierce.
Fu Jing didn’t object when the demon grabbed his waistband and pulled his pants down, nor did he resist when Xuan Qi settled between his legs.
It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.
When Fu Jing awoke, he was alone. It took him a moment to realise where he was, but once he did, his heart turned cold.
As reality settled in, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes in defeat. Now even his only safe space in this godforsaken realm had been defiled.
His mind was numb. So numb, he couldn’t even bring himself to cry.
For the first time he understood that he was truly, genuinely trapped. He’d always known he was, but he’d never fully accepted it, always clinging to the tiniest shred of hope he could find.
Because no matter how desperate the situation, he’d always been able to overcome it.
Even as a child, when he’d been locked in a shed by his classmates, who had bullied him for his small stature, he’d managed to fight his way out.
But back then, he hadn’t been on his own. He’d always had his two companions to back him up and help him when he needed it.
Here in the demon realm, he had no one. He was completely and utterly alone.
And now, all hope was lost. The final shred had slipped through his fingers, the last glimmer snuffed out.
There was no escape.
Fu Jing stayed in bed for an entire week, blankly staring out the window. The sky was overcast. Dark and gloomy—a perfect reflection of his mind.
His pallid complexion was accentuated by sunken cheeks, his eyes vacant. He had no drive to move, no desire to do anything at all. No matter what Xuan Qi said, be it questions, comments or provocations, Fu Jing wouldn’t react.
As for bathing, Xuan Qi had given up trying to persuade him. Instead, he had a wooden bathtub installed in his room to wash Fu Jing himself. Fu Jing didn’t even flinch when Xuan Qi removed his robes and lowered him into the tub.
Fu Jing also refused to eat.
In his current state, he resembled a lifeless porcelain doll—fragile, hollow, and cold to the touch.
Xuan Qi silently stood by the bed, gazing at Fu Jing, who in turn was staring out the window at the pouring rain.
After a while, Xuan Qi sat down beside Fu Jing, placing a large, warm hand over Fu Jing’s cold one.
“What do you want?” he asked.
Fu Jing didn’t respond.
“I’ll do anything,” Xuan Qi added.
Finally, a reaction. Fu Jing’s bloodshot eyes slowly drifted to Xuan Qi’s face, which showed a vague concept of concern.
There was really only one thing Fu Jing wanted. His chin quivered at the thought, tears welling up in his eyes. He opened his mouth, the words stuck in his throat, only rolling out with difficulty.
“I want to go home.”
Xuan Qi looked him square in the eyes. “This is your new–”
“It’s not.” Fu Jing slapped his free hand over Xuan Qi’s mouth. “It’s not! And it never will be!”
Xuan Qi lowered his gaze.
Fu Jing continued, his voice hoarse, “I miss my home! My real home! My friends and family… Please!”
Xuan Qi gently shook his head. He removed Fu Jing’s hand from his mouth before replying, “I can’t send you back. Anything but that.”
Face twisting in despair, Fu Jing urged, “Just come with me. I’ll protect you, I promise!”
“I’m sorry.”
Fu Jing’s icy fingers curled into a fist beneath Xuan Qi’s hand. His eyes burned with hostility as he spat, “Your word means shit.”
Xuan Qi didn’t respond. Instead, his gaze shifted to the untouched bowl of rice on the bedside table. He picked it up with his free hand and held it out to Fu Jing.
“You need to eat.”
Fu Jing turned his face away in aversion. “I don’t.”
“You can only fast for so long before you lose your strength.”
Fu Jing snorted. “What do I need strength for?” Then it dawned on him. He sneered. “Ah, right. The full moon torture.”
“No.”
“No?” Fu Jing echoed with a frown.
“Since we already used a different method this month, there’s no need to drink my blood.”
Fu Jing arched his eyebrows. “So it doesn’t have to be on the full moon and it still counts?”
“Correct. Like I said, it has to happen before the full moon. Once it’s full, it’s too late.”
“Huh.”
Just then, a yao servant knocked on the door before stepping in. “My Lord, the cat has returned.”
Xuan Qi slightly turned toward the servant. “Is it sitting at the main gate again?”
“Yes, sir.”
Xuan Qi heaved a sigh. Before he could issue a command, Fu Jing spoke up.
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