TBR CH24

So when he said it was a walk, it truly was just a walk.

In the distance, it seemed the Yao palace had caught fire. The scent of sulfur lingered in the air, and sparks of red flame flickered like fireflies against the night sky. If one listened closely, the faint crackling of burning wood could be heard, carving a pale glow into the darkness.

Gu Shishu listened for a moment to the distant sounds and made a calm assessment:

“Wusu is probably dead by now.”

Even if the former Yao King had perished, the internal struggle for power within the Yao race would not end so quickly. At the very least, it was not affecting the two of them as they strolled leisurely through the demon realm.

There was still time.

Gu Shishu walked unhurriedly. So did Fu Tingxue.

Without thinking, they kept their pace aligned—ensuring they would not fall out of step with each other.

But the problem was…

It was difficult to judge the right distance between them.

If they had come here with a clear purpose, it would have been different. But now, Gu Shishu was beginning to regret his own words.

He had spoken of their walk as “aimless.” And now, the very thought of it had started to stir something within him.

By common logic, when two people strolled side by side, their relationship was often quite intimate.

They could be close. They could hold hands.

And he and Fu Tingxue were close—so close that if either of them extended a hand, their fingers would nearly brush.

But they never actually touched.

On the contrary, both of them were carefully maintaining that fragile space between them, as if an unintentional touch might shatter the delicate atmosphere.

But what was this atmosphere, exactly?

Even Gu Shishu couldn’t quite put it into words.

From the moment they had begun speaking earlier, from the moment they had started walking side by side through the streets of the Yao realm—

This was something they had done countless times, centuries ago. It should have been ordinary.

And yet—

It suddenly felt as if they had stepped back in time, back to a moment when none of it had happened.

The air around them was heavy, thick with something he could not name.

Each time he glanced at the figure beside him, it was a stolen look, as if he were doing something shameful.

Neither of them spoke. But the silence between them was not empty—it was so full, so seamless, that even the smallest noise felt like it might break it.

Then—

Their eyes met.

Gu Shishu laughed, unable to hold back the amusement bubbling in his chest.

Something itched within him—a feeling that had been simmering for far too long, finally reaching a point where it could no longer be ignored.

“Sword Sovereign,” he teased, “were you secretly looking at me?”

Gu Shishu was always the one to break past hesitation.

And he wanted to test something.

He had caught the fleeting movement of Fu Tingxue’s gaze, had blocked off any chance for him to deny it.

Now, he had to face it—he had been seen.

Fu Tingxue’s expression flickered with a trace of embarrassment, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t.

This was an unfamiliar feeling for him.

In fact, the only times he had ever experienced it had all been because of Gu Shishu.

But—

He thought to himself—Gu Shishu must have been looking at me, too.

Otherwise, how would he have noticed?

The silver-haired immortal turned to face him fully.

Their gazes met, neither dodging nor retreating.

Fu Tingxue pressed his lips together.

Gu Shishu thought—his eyes are damp.

Like frost melting into water.

Like a winter thaw.

These were the kind of eyes he had.

Fu Tingxue lowered his gaze slightly, but for the first time, the flutter of his lashes failed to conceal the emotion beneath them.

“…Mn,” he admitted.

“I was looking at you.”

Gu Shishu paused.

Fu Tingxue was always honest.

He had spoken it aloud, trying to strip the moment of its secrecy, trying to make it sound as if it were something ordinary.

But he had not been completely forthcoming.

He had left out a few details.

Gu Shishu didn’t want to press too hard.

So he simply chuckled, sighing lightly:

“If you want to look at me, just look. There’s no need to be so cautious.”

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then added—almost unconsciously:

“I… was looking at you, too.”

The words had barely left his lips before he regretted them.

Gu Shishu was not someone who fumbled with words. He prided himself on his ability to handle any situation with ease.

But when it came to Fu Tingxue—

His actions and words always seemed to falter.

Attempting to salvage his composure, he added:

“I looked because the Sword Sovereign is beautiful. But what about you—why were you looking at me?”

His words wove an invisible cocoon around them.

Inside it, something stirred, something about to break free.

Fu Tingxue felt lightheaded, almost as if he were intoxicated.

Or perhaps he simply wished to believe that he was.

It gave him an excuse to say something he might not have dared to voice otherwise.

He studied Gu Shishu for a moment.

Then, very softly, very sincerely, he answered:

“You are beautiful, too.”

By the latter half of the night, the bloodshed around the Yao palace had begun to settle.

Whoever the new Yao King would be, one thing was certain—

They would not be pleased to have both the Demon Lord and the Sword Sovereign wandering through their territory unchecked.

And by this point, Gu Shishu had made no effort to conceal his presence.

If he estimated correctly, someone would be arriving soon.

Sure enough, as he and Fu Tingxue turned a corner, a long street of red lanterns stretched out before them.

The crimson glow lined the path like scattered blossoms, casting an eerie light over the empty streets.

At the end of the road, a lone figure stood waiting for them.

The new Yao King.

The moment their eyes met, both sides hesitated—assessing, calculating.

Measuring each other’s strength.

Trying to see who would make the first move.

He looked just like Wusu.

Even Gu Shishu had to admit it.

It was said that the former Yao King, Wusu, had a useless younger brother. Now, it seemed the “useless” part had been an exaggeration—but the blood relation was very much real.

The new Yao King had the exact same golden slit pupils as his brother. At the sight of Gu Shishu and Fu Tingxue, they constricted slightly, reacting instinctively to danger. Though his expression remained calm, his mind was in complete turmoil.

—What was he seeing?

After a night of brutal fighting, he had finally seized power, finally tasted the sweet triumph of authority.

And before he could even savor it—

A moment ago, he had sensed the presence of the Great Demon descending upon the Yao capital.

Though the demon realm and the Yao race had always maintained a surface-level alliance, he had been considering launching a diplomatic discussion after his brother’s mysterious return from the demon realm, heavily wounded.

But now?

He had no choice but to face the Demon Lord directly.

And yet—why was there another person beside him?

A man in snow-white robes, walking close to Gu Shishu, the two seemingly engaged in low conversation.

Who was he?

The new Yao King hesitated. A lover? But that was impossible—he had never heard of such a thing.

Then the man lifted his gaze.

A single glance.

All the warning bells in his body screamed at once.

That gaze—cold as ice, sharp as a blade—carried a sword intent so fierce it nearly wounded him without striking.

It’s him!

Gu Shishu, watching the new Yao King freeze in place—nearly turning on his heel to leave—sighed in mild exasperation.

He turned to Fu Tingxue and asked, in a voice just low enough to be teasing:

“Sword Sovereign, do you have some kind of special ability to terrify fox demons?”

Fu Tingxue shifted his gaze toward him, and in that instant, all traces of sharpness vanished.

Instead, there was only quiet innocence.

The new Yao King finally seemed to accept the nightmare before him.

One was Gu Shishu, the Demon Lord himself.

The other was Fu Tingxue, the Sword Sovereign—the sworn enemy of the Yao race.

Unfortunate did not even begin to describe his situation.

Still, as a fox demon, he was adept at masking his emotions.

Even if he had to pretend, he would at least pretend to be composed.

“This is an unfortunate time for the Yao race,” he said smoothly, “and I regret that we have not been able to offer a proper welcome. I hope the two of you will forgive the oversight.”

Gu Shishu had not come here to make things difficult for him, so he simply nodded slightly.

“We arrived uninvited,” he said. “No need for formalities, Yao King. But—what exactly is the situation now?”

He had acknowledged the new Yao King’s status.

Though there had been a brief pause, his words had made it clear.

At this, the new Yao King—whose name they had yet to learn—felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

Of course, Gu Shishu had said we.

But that we included another person—one who was even more unpredictable.

He cautiously raised his gaze toward Fu Tingxue, afraid that the Sword Sovereign might have a different opinion.

But Fu Tingxue only cast him a fleeting glance before lowering his gaze again, as if naturally accepting Gu Shishu’s statement as his own.

The new Yao King nearly sighed in relief.

Seizing power had already cost him dearly. If either of these two had wished to oppose him, he might not have survived.

But now—perhaps this was an opportunity.

The previous Yao King, Wusu, had insisted on making an enemy of Fu Tingxue, keeping tensions high between the immortal and the Yao race.

But now Wusu was dead.

And grievances against the dead could be left in the past.

This might just be the perfect chance to change things.

The Yaos loved extravagance.

Even after a night of bloodshed, their palace was still stunning—though the traces of battle could not be entirely erased.

Finally, the new Yao King introduced himself.

His name was Wusui.

As he led them into the grand hall, there was a flicker of hesitation in his demeanor, as if embarrassed by the state of his surroundings.

Because behind this very palace, smoke still curled in the air from the fires that had only just been extinguished.

Still, the Yao race maintained a semblance of order.

The ones left standing in the palace were those who supported Wusui. His people were cleaning up the aftermath of the battle, and even the banquet servants had been gathered efficiently.

Gu Shishu watched them with interest.

The servers at Yao banquets were traditionally fox demons.

But clearly, the fox clan had suffered heavy losses during the internal struggle.

Now, there were some… unusual additions to the staff.

Hm.

Cat ears. Rabbit ears.

…Was that a bear?

One of the attendants—who, yes, did have bear ears—noticed his gaze and flashed a servile, eager smile.

Gu Shishu barely stopped himself from picturing a grizzly baring its teeth at him.

Suppressing a chuckle, he turned away—only to find Wusui looking at them, slightly troubled.

“Would the Demon Lord and… the Sword Sovereign be willing to sit together in the place of honor?”

The Yao banquet seating arrangement was similar to that of the demon realm.

The host sat at the highest seat.

The guests of honor sat on an elevated level nearly parallel to the host, with only a few seats available.

After all, there were very few individuals worthy of such positions.

Likewise, the seats were close together.

Wusui had no idea what kind of relationship Gu Shishu and Fu Tingxue currently had.

But he had heard plenty of rumors that their relations were anything but amicable.

His own advisors had rushed to warn him about the rift between them, urging him to tread carefully.

So—he could only ask, awkwardly, whether they would be comfortable sitting side by side.

Gu Shishu turned to look at Fu Tingxue.

And almost at the exact same moment, Fu Tingxue spoke.

“I will sit with the Demon Lord.”

It was only after the words had left his lips that he realized—

Gu Shishu was looking at him with a somewhat amused expression.

He had not hesitated at all.

It would be easy—far too easy—for someone to misunderstand.

His face warmed slightly under the weight of that gaze, but he did not look away.

Gu Shishu only laughed.

“Then let’s go with the Sword Sovereign’s suggestion.”

And so, they sat together.

For now, even with the undercurrents between them, all attention turned to business.

Though Wusui had polished his words to make things sound more orderly, as Gu Shishu listened—

Everything became perfectly clear.

This man had been lurking in the shadows for years, scheming in silence—like a parasite, slowly hollowing out the kingdom Wusu had once ruled.

The most terrifying part was that the Yao race’s Elder Council had remained silent in the face of his usurpation.

And silence was nothing less than tacit approval.

“This matter… actually involved the Demon Lord as well.”

Wusui’s words carried an implicit meaning.

Gu Shishu simply smiled, saying nothing.

Both of them knew exactly what was being implied.

He was talking about the qilin bone.

But judging by the new Yao King’s tone, he did not seem particularly intent on reclaiming it from Gu Shishu.

A pragmatic man.

“But,” Wusui continued, smoothly shifting the topic,

“To speak plainly with the two of you—though the Yao realm may appear golden on the surface, in truth, there are many things I cannot yet govern fully. I fear… I may need to rely on the Demon Lord and the Sword Sovereign in the future.”

First, he played the part of the struggling ruler.

Then, he asked for favors.

A classic move.

Yet, Gu Shishu actually found himself appreciating the new Yao King.

He was self-aware.

He knew he had only just ascended to power and that his position was unstable. If he could gain the recognition of both Gu Shishu and Fu Tingxue, his path forward would become far smoother.

Gu Shishu let out a light chuckle, idly toying with the cup in his hands.

“The Yao and demon realms have always been interconnected. No need for humility, Yao King. If we can each gain something from this, it is naturally a good arrangement.”

Hearing this, Wusui was already more than satisfied.

Still, he turned a careful gaze toward the immortal seated across from him.

“Previously, the Yao race and the Sword Sovereign have had… many misunderstandings. I do not wish to continue being a barrier to peace between our realms. And so—I must first apologize to the Sword Sovereign.

If given the opportunity…”

The Yao race’s past attacks had long been a grave concern for Fu Tingxue, who oversaw the immortal sects.

Centuries ago, the Yao race had even gathered an army to march against the celestial realm, pushing tensions between the two sides to their absolute breaking point.

However, if Wusui could truly govern his people as he claimed, it would undoubtedly be a positive shift for the entire cultivation world.

Fu Tingxue’s expression remained calm as these thoughts passed through his mind.

He was about to nod in agreement.

Then, Gu Shishu spoke.

“An apology in words alone… Yao King, don’t you think that lacks sincerity?”

Fu Tingxue’s gaze flickered ever so slightly.

Wusui, who had just begun to feel pleased with his successful negotiation, was abruptly interrupted.

His expression remained fixed in its practiced politeness.

But inwardly, a flood of thoughts raged.

If anyone ever tells me that the Demon Lord and the Sword Sovereign are bitter enemies, I swear I will personally see to it that they are corrected.

These two aren’t opposing each other. They are clearly teaming up against me.

Still, he forced a regretful smile and smoothly followed Gu Shishu’s lead:

“The Demon Lord is right, of course. I had always planned to present the Sword Sovereign with a gift as a gesture of apology.”

He made a brief pause before continuing:

“This way—once the banquet concludes, I shall have someone escort the Sword Sovereign to the treasure vault. Whatever catches his eye, he need only say the word, and it shall be his.”

Only then did Gu Shishu nod, satisfied.

Negotiating was an exhausting business.

Wusui spent the rest of the evening finalizing agreements with the two realm lords—discussing matters of governance, trade, and laws between their domains.

As their conversation progressed, he began to feel that this arrangement was, in fact, quite advantageous.

It was a mutually beneficial exchange.

Under his rule, the Yao race would no longer be split into two extremes—one half lawless, rampaging through the world, and the other cowering in fear, despised by the other three realms.

And he—

He would cement his power.

Unlike his foolish brother, who had wallowed in heartbreak, he sought only one thing—control.

Once the discussions reached their conclusion, they remained seated for a while longer, drinking idly.

But eventually, the wine ran dry, the cups grew cold, and the banquet came to an end.

As the guests finally prepared to leave—

Gu Shishu rose to his feet and turned to Wusui.

“Now… where is your treasure vault?”

“Isn’t this… a bit too much?”

Fu Tingxue hesitated.

He looked around—Gu Shishu had practically emptied the vault, selecting the finest treasures one by one.

Then, with perfect composure, he instructed the young Yao attendant to report to their emperor:

“The Sword Sovereign has taken a liking to these. We’ll be taking them with us.”

The little Yao looked as if he were about to cry.

Gu Shishu turned to Fu Tingxue, shaking his head in a reassuring manner.

“If Wusui dared to offer these, it means he can afford it.”

He smiled, voice utterly unbothered.

“Besides, he should be compensating the Sword Sovereign. These things are rightfully yours.”

His reasoning was sound.

Even though Wusui had secured the throne, he would never be reckless enough to offer up something as significant as the Yao race’s sacred artifact—the very thing Wusu had gambled away.

Still, Fu Tingxue knew—

Even so, the new Yao King would be feeling this loss for quite some time.

In truth, this had never been about an apology.

Before tonight, the Yao race had been more than happy to see him as their sworn enemy.

Wusu’s death had only made their resentment toward him stronger.

The so-called “apology” had merely been words.

And yet—

He now possessed these priceless treasures.

Because of Gu Shishu.

Fu Tingxue lifted his gaze.

The Demon Lord—who, even now, seemed mildly unimpressed with Wusui’s offerings—was reflected in his pale irises.

Before he even realized it, the corner of his lips had curled ever so slightly.

A soft smile.

Undeniably warm.

Like peach blossoms beneath snow.

Like twilight spilling over a frozen lake.

A man who had always been as cold as frost, as distant as winter—

For one person alone, he melted.

Even if it was nothing more than a fleeting dream—

He cherished it nonetheless.