TBR CH19

Though this matter required careful handling, the Qilin Bone from the demon realm had finally been delivered.

Gu Shishu’s choice of the Qilin Bone was not merely to help Wusu make up his mind—it was a deal that guaranteed a profit.

After all, it was a sacred artifact of the demon race. Regardless of its specific use, the spiritual energy it carried was enough to make countless cultivators covet it. Moreover, Gu Shishu, an expert in sigil techniques, had long wanted to experiment with its properties.

To mark the occasion, he hosted a grand banquet.

In the past few days, Shen Nian had finally found a brief reprieve amid the relentless game of cat and mouse. He reassured himself that perhaps the Yao King’s interest in him had been limited to begin with—already worn thin by his repeated evasions.

Little did he know that, at that very moment, the Yao King and Gu Shishu were conversing in the palace hall:

“Demon Lord, surely you’re willing to let your beauty make an appearance by now? If you hadn’t been playing games, I would have found him myself already. You’ve left too many loose ends—tonight, I hope your ‘Shen Nian’ won’t disappoint me.”

Gu Shishu chuckled.

“Indeed, you will see him tonight. Let’s just hope, Yao King, that you won’t be the one disappointed.”

Despite the pain of parting with the Qilin Bone, Wusu was far more consumed by the satisfaction of his imminent desires. His golden pupils narrowed, glinting with greed and delight.

Besides, his stay in the Demon Lord’s palace had been rather comfortable these past few days. Though he had yet to catch a glimpse of the elusive Shen Nian, the palace offered lavish surroundings, fine wine, and beautiful courtesans—everything one could ask for.

Compared to the endless affairs of the demon realm, this was a rare indulgence.

…Of course, once he returned to his realm, he would have to deal with those old relics from his clan. As if parting with the Qilin Bone were some unspeakable act of treason.

Wusu’s fingers curled slightly. Instead of frustration, a wave of exhilaration surged within him—his long-awaited vengeance was nearly at hand.

What did those old fools matter?

There was only one ruler of the demon race. If he wished to kill someone, he would kill them. If he desired someone, he would take them. That was the law of the world.

While the banquet was being prepared outside, Gu Shishu walked through the damp, dimly lit dungeon, where the stench of blood thickened with every step, seeping from the stone walls.

The cells were filled with things that could barely be called human anymore.

The deeper he went, the more unbearable the sight became.

Until, at the very depths of the prison, there was a single pure white crane.

From afar, Fu Tingxue had already heard his approaching footsteps. As Gu Shishu entered, he lifted his head slightly, revealing the pale curve of his throat.

There was no longer any need for him to disguise himself. After tonight, pretense would be meaningless.

But Wusu had demanded one final inspection before the handover at the banquet.

Not out of concern that Fu Tingxue might escape. Rather, he feared the Immortal Lord might die before he could claim his revenge.

Yet, Fu Tingxue was far from Wusu’s worries—unfortunately for Wusu, he was even further from getting what he wanted.

Impossible, really.

Gu Shishu’s dark eyes reflected the figure before him, and he suddenly realized something—Fu Tingxue was completely unguarded. His most vulnerable point lay exposed before him, as if he could crush the Immortal Lord’s life with a single hand.

And yet, he showed no intention of defending himself. If Gu Shishu were to strike now, Fu Tingxue might not even have time to react.

After a moment’s thought, Gu Shishu stepped closer.

He reached out his hand.

“You—”

Fu Tingxue instinctively started to recoil, only to see the Demon Lord merely lift a loose strand of his hair.

Gu Shishu smiled, his tone light and careless.

“Your hair was messy. I was just fixing it for you.”

The strand of hair obediently fell back into place. Fu Tingxue, momentarily puzzled by his gesture, soon realized that his earlier reaction had been too revealing. Swallowing down the unspoken words, he left only the single syllable hanging in the air.

But Gu Shishu picked up the thread of the conversation effortlessly.

“Immortal Lord doesn’t seem the least bit concerned that I might harm you?”

Fu Tingxue had no way to avoid the question, so he simply answered it.

He rarely lied. Or at least, Gu Shishu liked to believe that he rarely lied.

Though clearly unimpressed by Gu Shishu’s foolish jest, the Immortal Lord remained composed.

If anything, he now looked slightly more dangerous.

“If the Demon Lord truly wished to act, would you have waited until now?”

That was fair.

Gu Shishu reflected on it—he had certainly had many chances to kill Fu Tingxue. Even in the recent series of events alone, he had let those opportunities slip past him time and time again.

He supposed he could still do it now. If he and Wusu joined forces and turned against him, not even Fu Tingxue at his full strength would be able to escape.

But that wasn’t an option.

Teaming up with Wusu? That would be his idea of suffering.

Besides, he had no right to criticize Fu Tingxue.

Because, in that moment, Gu Shishu realized something—he himself had never been truly wary of Fu Tingxue either.

If the Immortal Lord were to suddenly draw his sword against him, Gu Shishu would, at the very least, suffer a grave wound.

As he contemplated his unconscious lack of defense, Fu Tingxue suddenly smiled at him.

“What?”

Before he could react, the Immortal Lord—still seated against the wall—reached out and grabbed the front of his robe, using the momentum to lean in slightly. Then, with his free hand, he lifted a stray lock of Gu Shishu’s hair and brushed it back.

He rarely smiled.

Though it was a faint smile, it was like peach blossoms falling onto snow, his pale irises glimmering subtly in the dim light.

His cold fingertips brushed against Gu Shishu’s ear.

“Your hair was messy too.”

A counterattack.

Gu Shishu, at first, failed to react. Then, as Fu Tingxue’s fingers touched his hair, his body instinctively prepared a lethal strike.

Demonic energy coiled around his palm—dark and venomous, seething with the intent to consume life.

Then, he caught himself.

With a sigh, he let the killing intent dissipate into nothing.

“Let’s talk business,”

He crouched down, bringing their eyes level.

“If tonight goes as planned, Shen Nian will likely abandon Wusu and turn to my side. Hm… We’ve almost pushed him to his limit.”

“And then? What does the Demon Lord intend to do with him?”

Once tonight was over, Shen Nian would no longer be necessary.

Yet, even after ensuring that neither of Shen Nian’s targets harbored any remaining affection for him, Gu Shishu still felt that it wasn’t quite enough.

Earlier, he had consulted the Black Book. Recently, the Heavenly Dao had been eerily silent. Even when Gu Shishu tapped on it, it barely responded, and only after much reluctance did it finally print an explanation onto its pages.

He could not really blame it.

If Gu Shishu’s targets were Shen Nian and the two unfortunate men betrayed by him, then the Heavenly Dao’s true opponent was the system lurking behind Shen Nian.

According to the book, it had been searching for weaknesses in the system—this parasitic entity that had invaded the world. It had a purpose here, something it sought to obtain.

Gu Shishu fell into thought.

Indeed, at a glance, Shen Nian’s actions seemed foolish. Tasked with seducing the villains, he had used his “Irresistible Charm” aura to win their affections. On the surface, it all appeared laughably straightforward. But the more one examined it, the stranger it became.

And then there was the inexplicable “body possession” incident.

Gu Shishu knocked on the Black Book again, asking about its progress—whether it was ready to take down the system in one decisive strike.

The Heavenly Dao remained silent.

That was as good as admitting failure. Worse still, it had become sulky and refused to respond.

Gu Shishu left it alone to stew in its frustration.

Still, the Heavenly Dao’s initial request had been clear: Expose his true identity before the world and thereby break the hold of the “Irresistible Charm” aura.

So perhaps he and Fu Tingxue still had more to accomplish.

At that thought, he leaned slightly closer to Fu Tingxue, a smile playing at his lips.

“Immortal Lord, I’ll need your help with something else…”

Stepping out of the dungeon, Gu Shishu found the world outside already shrouded in darkness. Thick clouds rolled overhead, as if plotting a conspiracy of their own.

At the center of this scheme, oblivious to his impending fate, the Yao King remained unaware.

Moments ago, Wusu had been admiring Fu Tingxue’s wretched state.

The Immortal Lord’s wounds were even more severe than the last time Wusu had seen him—his suffering more pronounced. And yet, his spine remained straight, his mind unclouded.

Such a man—breaking him would be truly satisfying.

Wusu was pleased with Gu Shishu’s reliability. He even considered adding a few more wounds to the Immortal Lord right then and there. But when he turned, he found himself confronted by the Demon Lord’s dark, unreadable gaze.

Gu Shishu reached out to stop him, his gesture casual yet carrying an unspoken warning.

“Surely the Yao King can wait a little longer? I certainly didn’t rush to seize your Qilin Bone.”

Wusu steadied himself. Yes, he could wait until the banquet was over.

The Demon Lord was a cunning opponent—he could not afford to reveal his impatience too easily.

With that thought, Wusu grinned, turning back to Fu Tingxue with a cruel, malicious smile. He even mouthed something at him—undoubtedly obscene.

Fu Tingxue did not so much as lift his head, ignoring him completely.

Wusu cursed under his breath, vowing that soon he would force Fu Tingxue to look him in the eye—to see his tormentor with his own eyes. He would drag him down from his pedestal, force him to grovel.

At that moment, Gu Shishu’s mind wandered elsewhere, unbidden.

He recalled the curve of Fu Tingxue’s pale throat, the way his own fingers had brushed against the Immortal Lord’s hair. His hair was soft, light as drifting mist—cool to the touch, just like the man himself.

Fu Tingxue always kept himself well-groomed. Always clean.

These images surfaced in his thoughts, and before he could stop himself, Gu Shishu turned toward Wusu with an odd smile.

Upon closer inspection, that smile did not reach his eyes. It carried a detached, indifferent air—as if he were observing something utterly insignificant. It was the same look he had given countless dying enemies before delivering the final blow.

But Wusu, still lost in his own imaginings, did not notice.

Gu Shishu waited patiently for a moment before finally suggesting it was time to leave.

The long-awaited vengeance was now just one banquet away. Wusu convinced himself that there was no need to rush—besides, the Demon Palace’s feasts were always grand affairs. Gu Shishu, ever the generous host, would make sure of that.

And Gu Shishu had promised: After tonight’s banquet, Fu Tingxue would be his to deal with.

What a pity.

Gu Shishu thought idly, though he did not truly pity anyone.

After all, he was the true orchestrator of the performance about to unfold.

Seated high upon his throne, he overlooked the Demon Palace, once again bathed in dazzling light. The halls gleamed with priceless treasures, laughter and revelry filling the air. The scent of rich wine lingered, swirling amidst the desires of those seeking satisfaction.

Their lust for power, their joy in indulgence—all of it gleamed in the depths of the wine.

It reflected in Wusu’s golden eyes.

But their Demon Lord looked down upon it all, lashes veiling his gaze, eyes holding nothing but the cold glint of a sharpened blade.