Chapter 47: The Array and the Tides of Feeling

Xie Jue had important matters to attend to outside, but he couldn’t bear to part with his young master.

Trapped by soft pleas and asked if it was alright, Su Zhuozhi—who could never resist a gentle approach—found himself without a way out and finally nodded in agreement.

The robes for going out were chosen by Xie Jue, who meticulously dressed him. Su Zhuozhi didn’t need to worry about anything; he just had to get ready and leave. But occasionally, he couldn’t help raising a hand to touch the side of his neck.

Earlier, Xie Jue had bitten him there. The bite wasn’t hard, leaving only a shallow tooth mark that quickly faded. Yet Xie Jue seemed afraid he might be in pain, and after biting, he licked the spot. Su Zhuozhi’s neck was sensitive to begin with, and that action left a lingering, intense tingling that refused to dissipate, sneaking up on him unbidden, reminding him of the scene.

Su Zhuozhi had to stare at him and issue a stern decree: “Don’t bite my neck anymore. I’ll get angry—really.”

Xie Jue readily agreed.

Though his attitude in admitting fault was good, he agreed too quickly, which made Su Zhuozhi uneasy. He had a feeling it was like “I was wrong, but I’ll do it again next time.”

Su Zhuozhi frowned, wanting to say more, but he didn’t know what else to say, so he silently pursed his lips.

After all, it was just a feeling. The next time hadn’t come yet; if Xie Jue truly disobeyed, he could talk to him then.

Before long, Xie Jue brought him to a desolate wilderness.

Tall, nameless trees stood like vast umbrellas, their green leaves lush and dripping. Above, clouds drifted and curled across the sky, a magnificent vista.

But Su Zhuozhi inexplicably disliked this place.

The branches twisted like the claws of vengeful spirits; even under the bright sunlight, the gloom and chill here could not be dispelled. Cold seeped up from beneath his feet, silently burrowing into his bones, bringing an intense sense of foreboding.

Not far behind them were two guardians, who had just finished clearing out traitorous demon cultivators.

The Left Guardian saw the honourable one’s flamboyant black-and-gold robes and was both surprised and confused: “Why is the Honourable One wearing such complicated clothes?” In his impression, the Demon Lord despised such gaudy things, always dressed in black with a face like an Asura from hell. But today was completely the opposite, as if he were attending some important banquet, decked out in finery.

The Right Guardian was also taken aback, but he wasn’t as puzzled. At the Su residence, he had already sensed something special between the Honourable One and that young master. Dressing carefully to show one’s best side in front of a beloved—that kind of sentiment was common. He just never thought he’d see it happen to the Demon Lord, like… a peacock displaying its plumage.

The Right Guardian’s expression was quite complex.

“Hey, I just noticed that little fox demon’s robes are very similar to the Honourable One’s,” the Left Guardian exclaimed, amazed at his own newfound attentiveness. Who dared say he had no brains now?

The Right Guardian’s expression grew even more complicated. He had noticed long ago, which was why he hadn’t spoken.

“Stop talking,” the Right Guardian advised in a low voice.

The Left Guardian looked baffled: “Why?”

“Because I’m afraid you’ll bore yourself to death with your stupidity.”

“???”

Under the tree was a large magical array, stained with blood. The chilling, unsettling aura that made one’s hair stand on end originated from it.

Su Zhuozhi’s face turned pale; he felt nauseous and wanted to vomit. But one corner of the array’s pattern looked familiar, and he unconsciously stepped forward to get a better look.

Xie Jue stood by his side, sensing his discomfort. He steadied him and asked softly, “Feeling unwell?”

“Mm,” Su Zhuozhi nodded, but he could bear the discomfort. He pointed at the array and asked, “Is this the array to awaken the demon?”

“Exactly.”

Xie Jue had come specifically to destroy the array and prevent the demonic faction from succeeding.

Demonic energy coiled around the pitch-black blade. Xie Jue gripped his sword and, with the force of thunder, slashed down fiercely. One strike cut through the blood-red grooves deeply carved into the earth, splitting them in the middle. Then, like a spiderweb, cracks rapidly spread outward, and the array shattered.

Xie Jue sheathed his sword. Done with the task, he turned to take Su Zhuozhi and leave. The young master didn’t like the environment here.

Su Zhuozhi approached the array, pinched his nose, and glanced at it. He realized the pattern was indeed familiar—it resembled the array used to seal the demon that Su Yanqing had shown him in the scroll, but reversed.

If these demonic cultists drew five such arrays and succeeded in activating them, the demon would emerge again from the abyss, reappearing in the world.

Good thing they had discovered and destroyed it in time.

Su Zhuozhi recalled the brutal battle scenes from the scroll and breathed a sigh of relief.

Good and evil were naturally opposed. But Xie Jue cultivated the demonic path simply by absorbing demonic energy; he wasn’t righteous, but he also didn’t commit evil deeds. On the contrary, he couldn’t stand those demon cultivators reeking of sin and malice—ugly, loathsome, and stinking to high heaven. He found them an eyesore and dealt with them when it suited him.

The outside world spread tales of the Demon Lord’s cruelty and ferocity. Many things he hadn’t done were pinned on him. He never cared about others’ opinions and never defended himself. But now, he did care. Su Zhuozhi had run away in fear because of his identity as the Demon Lord and the terrifying rumors.

He didn’t want to see disgust in Su Zhuozhi’s eyes. Previously, he had lacked clear moral alignment, acting on whims. Now, he wanted to be a good person—at least the kind Su Zhuozhi would like.

He also wanted Su Zhuozhi to know that, on the matter of the demon, his stance aligned with the righteous sects. He shouldn’t think that just because of what he saw in the secret realm, all things demonic were tied to him.

Just as Xie Jue and Su Zhuozhi turned to leave, the already destroyed array suddenly burst forth with a blinding light. A stream of blood shot up from the ground, heading straight for Su Zhuozhi.

Xie Jue’s back went cold. He sensed the danger with sharp instincts, violently yanking Su Zhuozhi behind him for protection. His eyes narrowed as he drew his sword and struck back.

At that moment, a demon cultivator sprang out from the shadows, his eyes filled with wild ecstasy, shouting: “This is a special array-within-an-array we set up—not so easily broken! Innate demonic aura! This is the true Lord of the Demon Realm!”

He fell to his knees with a thud, prostrating before the array. In the next instant, he was swallowed into the demonic array, devoured down to his bones.

Su Zhuozhi watched in horror, his eyes wide. It seemed he heard an eerie voice from within, greedily chanting: not enough, not enough—I need more flesh and blood.

He shuddered.

Fortunately, in the next moment, Xie Jue slashed down with his sword. Vast demonic energy collided. When the dust settled, the array was completely shattered, and the eerie voice disappeared.

Only when Xie Jue took Su Zhuozhi’s hand did he come to his senses. He realized his fingertips were as cold as snow, and the warmth from Xie Jue’s palm couldn’t warm them. Regret and self-reproach flickered in Xie Jue’s eyes; he felt he shouldn’t have brought him here, that it had frightened him.

But Su Zhuozhi wasn’t focused on that. He smelled blood. Looking down, he saw large stains on Xie Jue’s robes and exclaimed anxiously, “You’re injured!”

He immediately rummaged through his storage pouch, fumbling for healing medicines.

Xie Jue watched him, not frowning at the pain at all—instead, the corners of his lips curled up in a smile.

He was worried about him.

In truth, these injuries were nothing to Xie Jue; they would heal quickly.

But Xie Jue said it wasn’t convenient to treat the wound there and that they should go back first.

Su Zhuozhi was uneasy: “Can you make it back like this?”

Under his insistence, Su Zhuozhi went back to the demon palace with him, flying on Xie Jue’s sword. The pitch-black, gleaming demon sword didn’t resist at all when Su Zhuozhi stepped onto it—it was quite obedient.

Back at the demon palace, Xie Jue said there was a certain medicine very effective for such wounds, but it wasn’t in their main bedchamber. Hearing this, Su Zhuozhi rushed to the side hall to fetch it without a second thought.

When he returned, he saw that Xie Jue had cut a fresh wound on himself, still oozing blood.

Su Zhuozhi frowned and said, “Let me help you take off your trousers.”

The wound was on his thigh; to apply medicine, he naturally had to remove his pants.

Hearing this, Xie Jue paused, then smiled and said yes.

Su Zhuozhi’s mind was focused entirely on his injury. He bent down, moving carefully, afraid that the skin and cloth might stick together and tear the wound.

As a result, he was very close to Xie Jue’s thigh. His movements were clumsy, and it took him quite a while.

His delicate white fingers lightly brushed against Xie Jue’s skin. Xie Jue felt as if an electric current had shot through him, numbing half his body.

Su Zhuozhi heard his breath hitch and quickly looked up. Seeing his expression wasn’t right, he thought he had been too rough and caused him pain. Hastily withdrawing his hand, he said flatly, “Does it… hurt a lot? Maybe I should call someone else to help you.”

“…It’s fine.” Xie Jue shook his head nonchalantly. “I’ll do it myself.”

Su Zhuozhi handed him the medicine bottle, thinking, ‘So it does hurt. He just won’t say it.’

He watched Xie Jue apply the medicine.

Xie Jue opened his mouth as if to say something, then stopped. He suddenly shifted his leg, using the folds of his robe to cover himself.

“Young master.”

Su Zhuozhi looked up in confusion. “What is it?”

He thought Xie Jue needed his help with something.

But Xie Jue pursed his lips slightly and smiled. “I’m very happy that you worried about me and applied medicine for me.”

Because of his injury, his face was somewhat pale, revealing a vulnerability rarely seen. It softened the sharp coldness of his brows and eyes, making him seem gentle, like a warm and jade-like gentleman.

Su Zhuozhi was stunned. Seeing his own reflection in Xie Jue’s deep eyes, his ears flushed belatedly. He abruptly straightened up, pretending to be calm: “It’s nothing.”

Then he turned to pour himself a cup of tea, drinking it to appear busy.

Xie Jue stared at his back unblinkingly.

After spending some time in the demon realm, and with the injury and treatment, Xie Jue’s tight surveillance on Su Zhuozhi loosened a bit. Perhaps it was due to Su Zhuozhi’s words, or perhaps Xie Jue feared that pressing too hard would make it even harder for Su Zhuozhi to like him.

Regardless, Xie Jue could reluctantly accept the young master leaving his side for short periods.

It was around this time that Su Zhuozhi unexpectedly ran into an acquaintance.

Yan Ruishi.

Although he had heard that Yan Ruishi had fallen to demonic cultivation, Su Zhuozhi hadn’t expected to meet him at the demon palace.

His eyes lit up, and he greeted him with surprise.

But Yan Ruishi looked grave and serious. He grabbed Su Zhuozhi’s hand and hurriedly pulled him along, speaking quickly and quietly: “I’ve come to rescue you. There’s no time to explain; just come with me first.”

Su Zhuozhi was bewildered. “…Rescue me?”

Yan Ruishi avoided the servants in their path and nodded. “Mm. Qin Zhao contacted me, saying you were kidnapped to the demon palace by the Demon Lord. He finally managed to reach you through the Mirror of Light, but received a provocative message from the Demon Lord, saying that if he marries you in the future, he’ll definitely send Qin Zhao an invitation to the wedding feast.”

Su Zhuozhi: “…”

That was indeed quite provocative.

He had asked Xie Jue to deal with the trouble he had caused—and this was how he dealt with it?

Su Zhuozhi imagined Qin Zhao and the others’ reactions to the message and felt like covering his face, then punching Xie Jue. Who told him to say such nonsense?!

In the midst of their brief conversation, they had run some distance. Yan Ruishi tugged at Su Zhuozhi to continue fleeing, but felt resistance. He looked back to see Su Zhuozhi standing still, smiling frankly, and saying, “I’m not leaving.”

Yan Ruishi was shocked and confused: “Why?”

Su Zhuozhi thought for a moment, as if unsure how to explain clearly, and only said, “I’m here willingly. Tell Brother Qin Zhao not to worry—I’m fine.”

With a rosy complexion, some flesh on his cheeks, and dressed in luxurious brocade robes—he did look quite well.

But Yan Ruishi was still uneasy. He advised earnestly, “That’s the Demon Lord. Don’t trust him just because he acts harmless around you. Look at me—I’m a bloody lesson.”

Su Zhuozhi patted him. “I know what I’m doing.”

Seeing his insistence, Yan Ruishi wanted to say more, but Su Zhuozhi pushed him, urging him to leave quickly. Yan Ruishi hesitated for a moment, then said that if Su Zhuozhi ever needed help, he should contact him, and he would come to assist.

After parting with Yan Ruishi, Su Zhuozhi turned and went back. Since he had been gone for a while, he was worried Xie Jue might overthink—well, this time it couldn’t be called overthinking; it really did have something to do with running away. Regardless, Su Zhuozhi used a short-distance teleportation talisman to return faster.

A flash, and he landed right at the bathing pool in the demon palace.

Su Zhuozhi blinked. The placement control wasn’t great; if he had accidentally fallen into the pool, it would have been funny.

He shook his head and walked toward the bedchamber, unaware that in the short time he was gone, the demon palace had already descended into chaos.

The young master had disappeared.

When the attendants reported this, Xie Jue’s expression drastically changed. His aura became terrifying, frightening the attendants into pale faces and trembling.

Fortunately, not long after,

Xie Jue sensed the fluctuation of spiritual energy and rushed over eagerly.

Just as Su Zhuozhi entered the bedchamber, he collided headfirst into Xie Jue’s embrace. He looked up, about to complain about how Xie Jue had spoken to Qin Zhao, but only managed to get out one syllable: “You—”

Before he could finish, he was pushed to the ground.

Even at such a moment, a large hand was still placed under his head to cushion the fall and prevent pain.

Xie Jue had gone mad again.

This time, he stared at Su Zhuozhi with a faint smile on his face, looking very gentle. But the obsessive tone in his hoarse voice made one’s hair stand on end. It was as if he were telling Su Zhuozhi that his previous obedience and normalcy had all been a disguise put on for his sake.

“Didn’t you say you wouldn’t run?”

“You lied to me.”

“But even so, I still… don’t leave, okay? I can become whatever you like.”

Xie Jue’s eyes were rimmed with red, his forbearance evident as he stared fixedly at Su Zhuozhi, like a man standing on the edge of a cliff. One slight touch, and he would fall into the abyss.

Su Zhuozhi was stunned, shaken by his almost pitifully begging expression. A pang struck his heart. His body moved faster than his mind; he tilted his head up and kissed the corner of Xie Jue’s mouth, nuzzling him soothingly. Looking into his eyes, he said seriously, “I didn’t lie to you. I didn’t run.”

Xie Jue stared at him fixedly, as if trying to discern whether he was telling the truth or a lie.

He closed his eyes in discomfort, his mind a chaotic mess, unable to tell. So he resorted to his own method of testing—to see if the young master was willing to accept his advances and appeasement.

He gripped Su Zhuozhi’s waist and slowly leaned down.

Caught off guard, Su Zhuozhi’s body tensed abruptly. He let out a startled cry.

“Xie Jue!”

His slender hands flailed in panic, grabbing at the other’s black hair, but they couldn’t stop him at all. In an instant, his consciousness seemed to sink into the depths of the sea.

Bobbing up and down, the sound of waves came faintly from a very distant place.

Like a ball of honey placed over a candle flame, slowly melting, flowing helplessly beneath the tongues of fire.

After an unknown amount of time, he finally surfaced from the sea, gasping for air, his chest heaving violently.

Xie Jue drew close to him. His normally light-colored lips had deepened in hue. He was moving them, saying something.

Su Zhuozhi didn’t want to look at him. He reached out to push his face away, but his fingers accidentally touched the moisture at the corner of Xie Jue’s mouth. He jerked his hand back as if scalded.

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