TBR CH16

The grand banquet in the Demon Palace was filled with the clinking of goblets, fine wine, and exquisite delicacies. Although it was already deep into the night, this was a city that never knew darkness.

Gu Shishu made no effort to hide his hospitality, generously instructing his attendants to prepare the finest treasures of the palace. He even summoned a group of handpicked courtesans—each of them the most stunning beauties of the demonic realm.

—Of course, considering the Yao King’s current preferences, there were also handsome, red-lipped youths, skilled in music and song, performing at the banquet.

For a moment, the entire hall radiated with brilliance, the warmth of wine filling the air.

Even Wusu, the Yao King, couldn’t help but indulge—sipping several cups in the pleasant anticipation of his impending revenge. The alcohol softened his demeanor, making him momentarily lightheaded.

However, as Gu Shishu observed him, he noticed something peculiar—Wusu truly seemed to be a devoted lover.

It was said that in the past, the Yao King had never been picky, indulging in all manner of beauties. Yet tonight, he appeared utterly indifferent to the presence of the most exquisite courtesans.

Hmm.

Taking into account some recent rumors…

It seemed that he had already pledged his heart to one person, determined to spend a lifetime with them.

At this thought, Gu Shishu smirked slightly, spinning the goblet between his fingers before refilling Wusu’s cup with crystal-clear liquor. He handed it over with a teasing remark:

“I heard the Yao King has won himself a great beauty. Tell me, why is it that none of my palace’s finest have caught your eye?”

Wusu, though slightly intoxicated, did not let his guard down—after all, this was a business negotiation with the Demon Lord.

However, since Gu Shishu had yet to bring up the true purpose of their meeting, Wusu relaxed just a little.

High-ranking figures always liked to talk about irrelevant matters before getting to the point.

Taking the cup, Wusu noticed it was Nan Ke Brew, a rare vintage found only once in a thousand years. He took a slow sip, letting the warmth spread through his chest, and responded:

“Nonsense—why, even your palace’s wine is of the highest quality. As for these beauties… Well, if it were the old me, I would have had nothing but praise for them.”

The sharp burn of aged liquor coursed through his throat, leaving behind a lingering warmth.

With a touch of arrogance, he continued:

“But now—pardon my bluntness, Demon Lord—no matter how many renowned beauties exist in the cultivation world, compared to my Dao companion, they are simply unremarkable.”

Gu Shishu chuckled.

“Oh? Could it be that love has clouded the Yao King’s judgment? Beauty is subjective—how is it that in your eyes, only one is worthy, while the rest are nothing but ordinary mortals?”

Seeing Gu Shishu’s casual disbelief, Wusu’s competitive nature flared.

His golden pupils narrowed, and with a slight tilt of his hand, he pointed to one of the most stunning courtesans in the hall.

Then, with an air of certainty, he declared:

“Demon Lord, if you doubt me, then listen well—my Dao companion is a thousand times more beautiful than her.”

Gu Shishu watched, somewhat amused.

The Yao King really did lose all reason the moment Shen Nian was mentioned.

What a foolish way to prove a point.

More importantly, he didn’t seem to care in the slightest that he was openly insulting one of Gu Shishu’s palace attendants.

His expression was one of absolute conviction, as though his Dao companion’s beauty was an undeniable fact, beyond all dispute.

With a wave of his hand, Gu Shishu dismissed the courtesan, who had flashed a charming smile, and continued the conversation:

“I never knew the Yao King was such a devoted lover. Since you’ve found your match, why not bring him along to this banquet?”

That was an impossible request.

And Gu Shishu knew it best.

Even Wusu himself had been hesitant about coming to the Demon Palace, carefully orchestrated into this trap.

He was here for revenge—how could he possibly bring his so-called lover?

More importantly—he couldn’t.

Because he had no idea where his beloved even was.

As expected, Wusu’s expression darkened.

The topic clearly displeased him. His tone turned dull:

“He—my Dao companion was born with a frail constitution and must cultivate in seclusion. Demon Lord, there’s no need to ask further. When the time comes, we will hold a grand ceremony, and you may see him then.”

Although Gu Shishu had already known the truth behind this lie, he still put on a look of regret, nodding thoughtfully.

“May I ask for the name of the Yao King’s Dao companion?”

“His surname is Shen, given name Nian,” Wusu replied, and as if merely uttering the name lifted his spirits, his features softened slightly. “I always call him Nian Nian.”

They were all so ridiculous.

Gu Shishu’s thoughts remained impassive.

Shen Nian had introduced himself the same way when they first met—insisting on using his nickname.

And now, Wusu was here formally introducing the very same name to him—why?

It was as if they wanted the whole world to know what they called their lover in private.

Some people, when deeply in love, become obsessed with boasting about their romantic tales, eagerly sharing every detail.

Even the Yao King was no exception.

But Gu Shishu only found it entertaining.

With a smirk, he said:

“Yao King, you may not know this, but—”

Golden pupils flickered with curiosity, awaiting his next words.

Gu Shishu smiled.

“There is also a beauty named Shen Nian in my palace. Hm, if you ask me—he is the most beautiful person in the entire cultivation realm. It is beyond me why Qingcheng Sect would be so blind as to let him end up in my hands.”

That was an immediate provocation.

And it struck directly at Wusu’s sore spot.

His possessiveness over Shen Nian was extreme—even the mere resemblance of a servant’s eyes to his beloved had driven him to rage.

And now—a man with the same name, also praised as the most beautiful in the world?

It was an outright challenge.

Wusu’s lips curled into a cold sneer. Though he suppressed his temper, his tone was icy:

“There are countless people with the same name. Why should I be concerned? A mere sect disciple could never compare to my Dao companion.”

Then, he glanced sideways at Gu Shishu.

“But if Demon Lord is so confident, why not call him here? I would quite like to see this so-called beauty for myself.”

Gu Shishu had been waiting for exactly this.

—Of course, he knew Shen Nian wouldn’t dare to come.

With a playful glint in his eyes, Gu Shishu smirked at the visibly provoked Yao King and said:

“Yao King, shall we make a wager? A simple one—let’s see which Shen Nian is truly the more beautiful.”

He then ordered his attendants to summon Shen Nian.

A short while later, the servant returned, empty-handed, kneeling before him with a troubled expression.

“Your Majesty, Shen Gongzi says… he is unwell and has already retired for the night. He also claims his appearance is presently untidy, and he fears spreading his illness. He wishes to avoid meeting strangers for now.”

Gu Shishu twirled the silver goblet in his fingers, leisurely thinking to himself—

What a terrible excuse.

But there was no rush.

These things required patience.

If rushed, the Yao King might start to doubt.

Indeed, Wusu’s gaze flickered toward him, as if expecting some reaction.

But Gu Shishu simply let out a sigh, his expression gentle with understanding.

“Then let Nian Nian rest well. Send him a few of my finest medicinal elixirs to aid in his recovery.”

Nian Nian.

Forcing himself to use the nickname, Gu Shishu barely resisted the urge to shudder.

But the effect was perfect.

Wusu, the Yao King, abruptly narrowed his golden vertical pupils. He cast a sinister gaze at the attendant who had come to report back and spoke with a mocking tone:

“So your master ordered you to bring someone here, but because he refused, he simply did not come? I was unaware that the Demon Palace followed such rules.”

As expected.

His curiosity and competitiveness had been thoroughly piqued.

At this moment, Shen Nian was probably breathing a sigh of relief, thinking he had narrowly escaped this ordeal. Little did he know that the Yao King now wanted to see him more than ever.

Gu Shishu had always been one to stoke the flames.

“Do not take offense, Your Majesty,” he said, shaking his head lightly. “Shen Nian is also an esteemed guest of mine. Besides, you may not be aware—he is perhaps the purest and kindest youth in the world and would never intentionally offend you.”

The Yao King… The Yao King forcefully set his wine cup down on the table, causing the liquid to spill slightly.

However, he ultimately suppressed his displeasure, merely curving his lips into a stiff smile.

“Then from now on,”

There was a faint trace of bestial cruelty in Wusu’s voice,

“I simply must meet him. Surely he cannot be ill every day.”

Gu Shishu shook his head with a smile, appearing indifferent to Wusu’s anger and making no effort to criticize his words.

Instead, he swirled the wine in his cup slightly before continuing:

“With Your Majesty’s great enthusiasm, I am certain that, even if Shen Nian does not meet you in person, he will understand your sentiment. However, I fear that our current priority lies elsewhere. Shall we instead discuss your thoughts on Fu Tingxue?”

This was a deliberate change of topic.

Although the Yao King seemed somewhat fixated on Shen Nian, he immediately became alert.

Finally, they had arrived at the real matter at hand.

Compared to Fu Tingxue, a person far less significant than his beloved could be set aside for now—revenge could be discussed later.

At this moment—

“I want him dead. And before he dies, I want him to suffer unimaginable torment.”

Wusu’s eyes remained locked onto the Demon Lord, his tone calm yet describing gruesome tortures.

“I want to exact my revenge personally. Of course, I know that you and I share the same goal. Given that, I am certain we can reach a… mutual understanding? Name your terms, and you may even participate.”

His words painted a vivid picture of blood and carnage, yet Gu Shishu remained unfazed. He even picked up a piece of fruit, eating leisurely as he listened.

However, he had already placed Wusu on his personal blacklist.

So many grievances against Fu Tingxue—why hadn’t the Immortal Lord simply killed him back then?

The Demon Lord, after hearing Wusu out, did not immediately respond with approval or rejection. Instead, he tilted his head nonchalantly, signaling the maid to refill his wine. Then, with a faint smile, he presented his prepared demand:

“I want the Qilin Bone of the Demon Realm.”

This was a moderate request—neither excessive nor insignificant. The Qilin Bone, after all, was one of the sacred relics left behind by the ancestors of the demon race. Handing it over to another faction would be a grave transgression. However, it also lacked any explicit function and was merely one among many treasures. To Wusu, its actual value was not particularly high.

The issue was that the rigid, antiquated elders of his clan would undoubtedly oppose it with all their might.

Wusu hesitated.

Noticing this, Gu Shishu naturally proposed, “There is no rush. If Your Majesty is willing, we can discuss the details further in due time. For now, why not stay at the Demon Palace as our honored guest and allow us to properly extend our hospitality?”

“Very well,”

Wusu had already decided to have his trusted subordinates retrieve the Qilin Bone in secret and report back to him.

For now, he would keep it hidden from the prying eyes of those old relics. As for himself, he was too conspicuous a target to return immediately.

Besides, Fu Tingxue was here. And so was that pathetic imitation—Shen Nian.

Gu Shishu raised his cup, and Wusu followed suit. The two rulers of the demon and yao realms had seemingly reached a tacit agreement within the Demon Palace.

However, at the very last moment, Gu Shishu posed Wusu an unusual question:

“Why do you hate Fu Tingxue so much?”

The words had barely left his mouth before he realized he might have misspoken.

After all, he was supposed to be playing the role of someone with an unrelenting hatred for the Immortal Lord.

Yet, deep down, he was genuinely curious.

Gu Shishu had always believed Wusu’s hatred for Fu Tingxue stemmed from the public humiliation of being struck by his sword a century ago. But after all this time, even if resentment remained, it should have faded somewhat. Instead, Wusu was still utterly consumed by vengeance, as if he wished to tear Fu Tingxue apart limb by limb.

To his surprise, Wusu gazed back at him strangely.

“Back then, Fu Tingxue wounded me with his sword,” he said slowly. “The injury carried his sword intent. As long as he remains alive, the wound torments me constantly. For centuries, I have suffered because of it—how could I not hate him?”

“But what about you, Demon Lord? Your battle with him back then was even more intense. I heard you, too, were run through by his blade—do you not understand my hatred?”

“How could I not?”

Gu Shishu’s eyes darkened, and his smile turned dangerous.

“He wounded me deeply, and the scar still burns with cold to this day. I will repay him a hundredfold.”

Dark energy surged around Gu Shishu.

Wusu, startled, no longer questioned him, assuming this was merely Gu Shishu’s way of testing him.

The banquet ended.

The cold dishes remained, and the drinks had gone stale.

The two leaders’ game had come to a close.

The Yao King had already left the grand hall, yet Gu Shishu absentmindedly placed a hand over the scar on his chest.

A wound left by Fu Tingxue’s sword.

After it had healed, aside from the scar, it had never caused him any lasting discomfort.

It was certainly nothing like what Wusu had described—relapsing endlessly, filling the body with cold.

Still, recalling the bone-piercing sword intent that had erupted from the Clear Frost Sword the moment he was struck, Gu Shishu found it unsurprising that Wusu, tormented for a century, harbored such deep resentment toward Fu Tingxue.

But how could that be?

Fu Tingxue had not held back in the slightest when he struck him. He had shattered half of his own sword in the process and gravely wounded Gu Shishu’s cultivation. The sword wound to his chest had nearly cost him his life. When he had finally staggered to safety, he had lost consciousness entirely.

It was a battle of mutual destruction—each the other’s mortal enemy.

By all logic, that injury should have been more severe than the one Wusu had suffered.

Gu Shishu couldn’t understand.