TBR CH21

This matter did not need to be so complicated.

However, Gu Shishu was unsure whether the Yao King would still honor their agreement once he uncovered the truth.

Even though the terms of their deal were clear and indisputable, it wasn’t impossible for a man to throw everything away for the sake of a beauty.

The Demon Lord watched as Wusu’s subordinates entered the great hall, carrying a narrow wooden box. They approached reverently, lowering themselves to kneel before him.

Just moments ago, Wusu’s gaze had been locked onto Shen Nian with unwavering intensity. But now, with the deal reaching its final stage, he had no choice but to shift his focus back to the matter at hand, regaining some of his composure.

He was here to negotiate with Gu Shishu. This was the final step.

Even if there was something deeply unsettling about the veiled “Shen Nian”—a presence that made his instincts recoil as if an acidic stench of conspiracy lingered in the air—it had no relevance to their transaction.

…No point in getting distracted at a crucial moment.

Wusu lifted the box with one hand, his sharp, dark claws slicing through the wax seal with ease.

A faint golden glow spilled from the small opening, radiant and brimming with spiritual energy. Even the kneeling subordinates trembled slightly at the overwhelming pressure emanating from within.

As expected of one of the sacred relics of the demon race.

Gu Shishu thought to himself. For those lacking sufficient strength, the sheer presence of the Qilin Bone carried its own oppressive weight.

A rare and priceless artifact—no doubt about it.

Wusu withdrew his claws.

His previous motion had been nothing more than an inspection. Now that both parties had confirmed the authenticity of the item, all that remained was the formal exchange.

Gu Shishu spoke, his tone calm.

“Let’s seal the contract.”

Wusu had been feeling a strange, inexplicable unease since earlier, but the Demon Lord’s initiative in formalizing the agreement reassured him somewhat. He attributed his discomfort to nothing more than the natural tension before the completion of a major transaction.

The contract itself seemed straightforward.

Wusu would deliver the Qilin Bone to Gu Shishu.

In return, Gu Shishu would transfer full authority over Fu Tingxue’s fate to him.

The Yao King bit the tip of his finger, letting a single drop of his blood fall onto the contract. The moment it made contact, the air around them vibrated subtly, sealing the agreement.

The kneeling attendant once again took possession of the relic, carefully lifting it and, with measured steps, ascended the dais to present it to the Demon Lord.

Even though Wusu had promised great rewards for his role in the exchange, the demon warrior still trembled with unease.

Handing over a sacred relic of the demon race—who could say what consequences awaited?

Gu Shishu now had what he wanted. His objective was halfway complete.

He turned, gesturing for more wine to be poured for the Yao King. Lifting his own goblet, he smiled.

“Now that we have both achieved our desires, let me offer you a toast, Yao King.”

Wusu felt a pang of impatience.

The Qilin Bone was no longer in his possession—but it didn’t matter. Soon, Fu Tingxue would be his.

Despite his eagerness, he maintained his composure. It was only proper to observe formalities.

Still, as his murky golden eyes shifted, his focus once again landed on the veiled figure of Shen Nian.

He drank the offered toast, but rather than continuing with polite conversation, he turned to the silent youth seated nearby.

“Young Master Shen,”

Though Wusu could not see his face, he could sense the momentary spike in fear—the stiffness in his movements.

“I have long heard your name, yet only now do we finally meet. Why not share a drink?”

From the moment Shen Nian had taken his seat, he had felt as though he were sitting atop a bed of biting ants—or worse, sinking into a cauldron of boiling oil.

His entire being burned with anxious discomfort, but there was nowhere to run.

Through the semi-transparent veil, he observed the two men seated above him.

Both had fallen under the influence of his “Irresistible Charm” aura.

One was a figure from his past.

The other was the one he was currently courting.

After so long, seeing the Yao King again should have reminded him of all the moments of affection and indulgence, the lavish attention and adoration.

Instead, all he felt was fear.

After all, he knew better than anyone how violent and unpredictable Wusu could be.

Once, Wusu had personally tortured a subordinate to death—someone who had merely dared to approach him.

That night, Shen Nian had been seated in Wusu’s lap.

The Yao King had gently covered his lover’s eyes, shielding him from the gruesome sight.

But no amount of shielding could block out the agonized screams that filled the air.

Back then, Shen Nian had not felt fear.

Even though he had been the one who had seduced that unfortunate subordinate in the first place, leading him to his demise—what did it matter?

He had reveled in the Yao King’s jealousy, in his possessiveness.

It had only added another layer of pleasure to the game.

That had been his strategy.

But now… now he was the one who had betrayed him.

Now, he was the one being hunted.

He had tried to hide, but now he clung to his veil like a lifeline—only to realize that Wusu’s gaze had never left him since the moment he entered the hall.

Desperate, he cast a glance toward Gu Shishu, silently pleading for intervention.

But the sheer fabric of his veil blurred his expression, making it impossible to tell whether the Demon Lord could even see the fear in his eyes.

No.

At the very least, Gu Shishu was still on his side.

He clung to that thought.

Moments ago, Wusu had nearly ripped the veil from his face, but Gu Shishu had intervened just in time, commanding him to take his seat instead.

No matter what happened, he had to secure Gu Shishu’s favor.

Then—

A single sentence struck him like a thunderbolt.

Wusu’s reasoning was polite on the surface.

But the malice beneath it was unmistakable.

Shen Nian’s fingers went ice-cold.

No one could see how pale he had become beneath the veil.

He had no excuse to refuse.

Shaking, he reached for his goblet, hoping to simply raise it and drink without issue.

But Wusu was not about to let him off so easily.

The Yao King’s smile remained slow, deliberate.

“Young Master Shen is an honored guest of the Demon Lord—there is no need for such modesty.”

His voice carried an unsettling amusement.

“This hall contains only a single jar of Immortal’s Drunken Bliss—a rare and exquisite wine.”

“Why not come forward? Allow me to pour for you myself.”

Shen Nian’s seat was already close to the two rulers.

On any other day, he might have relished the privilege—might have basked in the jealousy of others.

But right now, he wished he had been seated far, far away among the lower guests.

What now?

Gu Shishu’s gaze was heavy on him, filled with something unreadable.

A silent expectation.

Shen Nian clenched his teeth, shut his eyes, and took a step forward.

Wusu watched him approach—watched this shrouded figure inch closer, as if stepping toward his own doom.

Why is he so afraid of me?

The question nagged at Wusu’s mind.

Given how he had been avoiding him, given the strange evasiveness tonight—suspicion took root.

Could he be an enemy?

Step by step, Shen Nian advanced.

And as he neared, Wusu felt an inexplicable familiarity in the youth’s posture, in the way he moved.

Then—

A gust of wind.

A blur of white silk.

A whisper of air brushed against his wrist, light as a feather.

The veil drifted to the ground.

In an instant, the world snapped into clarity.

A goblet clattered against the stone floor.

Wine splashed across the ground, the scent thick in the air.

Before him, Wusu shot to his feet.

Golden eyes widened.

Pupils contracted into slits.

And for the first time in centuries—

He was completely, utterly stunned.

“You—”

Wusu let out a hoarse cry, his hand shooting forward to seize Shen Nian.

Shen Nian flinched at the sight of those sharp claws, instinctively taking a step back. His grip on the wine cup remained firm, but in his sudden movement, some of the liquid sloshed over the rim.

The sound of something falling to the ground echoed through the hall.

It was Wusu’s golden goblet.

His mind was a haze, unable to grasp what had just happened. He could only stare in bewilderment at the storm of rage and elation in Wusu’s eyes, unable to discern their meaning—until, at last, those emotions settled into a deep and overwhelming confusion.

And then, in those golden eyes, he saw—

His own face.

His face, distorted and perfected by the “Irresistible Charm” system.

No—

A trembling hand rose to touch his own cheek, searching for any remaining veil.

There was nothing.

The silk veil had already fallen.

Shen Nian’s legs nearly gave out.

The moment realization struck, he could barely stand, let alone respond.

Desperately, he turned to Gu Shishu.

The Demon Lord remained seated, high above them all, as if oblivious to the unfolding chaos.

Dark eyes regarded him with quiet indifference.

“What’s going on?”

Gu Shishu, of course, knew exactly what was happening.

Not only had he planned to watch this spectacle himself, but he had also ensured that someone else had a front-row seat—whether they wanted it or not.

At the very moment Shen Nian had stepped toward Wusu, Gu Shishu had silently cast a spell.

Now, every movement, every reaction, was being displayed to one more unfortunate soul: the human emperor, Jing Qianshan.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be so enraged that he fell ill.

Gu Shishu offered a mock prayer—without the slightest hint of sincerity.

The anticipation had been carefully built.

By now, Wusu’s curiosity about Shen Nian had reached its peak. And since their business transaction had already been completed, he no longer needed to moderate his behavior.

Besides, Gu Shishu himself had just moments ago prevented Wusu from forcefully removing Shen Nian’s veil.

Had Wusu not made a move this time, he wouldn’t be the Yao King.

In the end, he had taken the direct approach.

A simple gust of wind, summoned by magic, had been enough to send the veil drifting away.

An unintended blessing—saving him the trouble of any further probing.

Yet Gu Shishu’s expression remained composed.

His lashes lowered slightly, masking the amusement beneath his carefully crafted look of confusion.

As though he knew nothing.

As though he were just as surprised as everyone else by the turn of events.

Wusu should have felt suspicion.

Instead, his first instinct was something entirely different.

Shock, yes—but not at Shen Nian.

No, his first thought was to defend him.

His lover—his Nian Nian—stood before him now, his delicate features pale with distress, his lips trembling.

Through the lens of the “Irresistible Charm” aura, Shen Nian appeared fragile, helpless, his eyes shimmering with unshed tears.

He looked like someone with a secret burden, someone suffering in silence.

A victim.

Wusu ignored the glaring contradictions—the impossibility of his presence here, the sheer absurdity of the situation.

Instead, his voice cracked with disbelief.

“Nian Nian?”

Wusu prided himself on never mistaking faces.

Never.

He reached out, intent on soothing his distressed lover.

Yet Shen Nian recoiled as if he had seen a ghost, his body jerking backward.

What was this?

The Yao King’s hand froze in midair.

He had always been above all others, untouchable and revered.

And yet, here he was, grasping at nothing.

The impulse to question was drowned beneath a flood of desperate affection.

He had to understand.

“Why are you here?” Wusu’s voice was hoarse. “Nian Nian, don’t be afraid—it’s me. Come here.”

But Shen Nian stood frozen, utterly lost.

One thought consumed him:

I must not take his hand.

Frantic, he lifted his gaze to Gu Shishu.

The Demon Lord’s brows furrowed slightly, his expression one of quiet discontent—almost as if he was displeased by the scene before him.

Wusu’s hand remained suspended in the air, fingers stiff.

Some sense of rationality returned to him.

And yet—

Though his lover’s face was still etched with misery, though tears glistened in his eyes, though he looked as though he had been wronged beyond words—

He refused to look at him.

His gaze was fixed elsewhere.

Not at Wusu.

At Gu Shishu.

A bolt of lightning might as well have struck the Yao King where he stood.

No.

It was impossible.

Nian Nian loved him. Needed him.

His entire world had always revolved around him.

And yet—

That face, that voice, that very soul he knew so well—

They belonged to his Nian Nian.

But those eyes—

Those eyes no longer looked at him.

A hundred possibilities flashed through Wusu’s mind.

He refused to believe the worst.

And so he clung to the explanation he could most easily accept.

Staggering forward, he took another step.

And another.

But however he moved—

Shen Nian moved away.

Red bled into Wusu’s golden eyes.

His breath came sharp, unsteady.

And then—

His gaze locked onto Gu Shishu, and his voice came as a low, broken snarl.

“Was it you?”

“Did you force him?”

“Nian Nian—tell me. It’s alright. I will make it right for you. I don’t mind. Just tell me—did the Demon Lord force you to stay by his side?”

Shen Nian nearly did cry.

Never—not once—had he ever been so helpless, so exposed.

His Irresistible Charm had saved him.

Without it, Wusu’s trust would have shattered already.

But—

Now was the worst possible time to align himself with Wusu.

He had to win over Gu Shishu.

And at least… at least, if things went terribly wrong, he knew Wusu would take him back.

He would be forgiven.

Accepted.

The blame would be placed elsewhere.

And if that were true—

Then Gu Shishu, also under his system’s influence, should react the same way.

Yes.

Even if the Yao King was furious—

As long as he had Gu Shishu’s favor, even if the damage was severe, he could still survive this.

Still enjoy his wealth. His power. His love.

And so—

Without a moment’s hesitation—

Shen Nian turned away from Wusu.

Did not spare him so much as a glance.

“A sacrificed piece for the sake of the king.”

It was not the first time he had done this.

To outsiders, what they saw was a breathtakingly beautiful youth, his expression stricken with anguish, collapsing to his knees.

But the direction he fell—

Was toward Gu Shishu.

His voice trembled, laced with sorrow, seemingly burdened by an unspeakable pain.

“Your Excellency… please… help me…”