TBR CH3

“…Alright.”

The response came so quickly that Shen Nian hadn’t even processed it yet. Through his tear-blurred vision, he saw the black-haired, black-eyed Demon Lord break the unsettling silence that had made his heart race. Instead, the man curled his lips into a lazy, unrestrained smile.

Even if it was all just an act, Shen Nian was momentarily captivated by the Demon Lord’s condescending demeanor, standing there in a daze, unable to react.

Gu Shishu, however, leaned down carelessly, his fingers slightly curled as he wiped away the tear trailing down Shen Nian’s face.

His posture was ambiguous, as if he were facing a lover of many years, yet the words he spoke were cold and indifferent:

“If you’re going to stay in my palace, do you have anything useful to offer?”

Huh?

This was completely beyond what Shen Nian had prepared for—he had never even considered that he would actually need to contribute anything.

To him, staying in the Demon Palace simply meant being treated as an honored guest while he found opportunities to deepen his relationship with Gu Shishu, ultimately becoming his only salvation and successfully completing his mission.

After all, that was how it had worked before in both the demon clan and the human emperor’s palace.

Seeing the young man in front of him show a look of confusion and hesitation, unable to respond right away, Gu Shishu couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

Without his “universal heartthrob” aura and a scripted storyline, would this person even be able to handle the most basic improvisation in acting?

Straightening up, Gu Shishu spoke with indifference:

“You can stay. But I don’t keep freeloaders here. How about taking on some cleaning duties?”

Shen Nian was completely stunned for a few seconds before he realized that this meant he was expected to sweep the floors in the Demon Palace.

His beautiful eyes widened in disbelief, the lingering sting of tears—like the sensation of being irritated by onions—still present.

He frantically called out to the system in his mind, but even the system struggled to make sense of the current situation.

Understanding its host all too well, the system knew that Shen Nian wasn’t the type to endure hardship. If his emotions weren’t stabilized, it could seriously impact the mission. So, in a hurry, it offered some words of comfort:

“Don’t panic, Host! The Demon Lord’s difficulty level is the highest for a reason. Just now, he was definitely affected by your universal heartthrob aura and has already developed feelings for you—he just doesn’t want to admit it. Even if you’re assigned to sweeping, isn’t this the perfect opportunity for daily interactions? Are you really worried you won’t win him over?”

Shen Nian reluctantly considered it and found that the system’s words made some sense.

Maybe this was just one of those “if he likes you, he’ll bully you first” situations. Besides, sweeping the floors wasn’t too far off from the classic “cold CEO and the cleaning girl” trope.

So he quickly adjusted his emotions, praying that he hadn’t hesitated too long, and put on an obedient and sweet smile for the Demon Lord:

“Thank you, Your Excellency. I… I’m just happy to be allowed to stay. I’ll work hard!”

So fake.

Gu Shishu felt nothing.

If it weren’t for the fact that he needed to figure out the protagonist’s methods, he wouldn’t have wanted this person in his sight at all.

Unfortunately, the so-called “Break the Fate” that the Heavenly Dao had spoken of wasn’t something he could simply ignore, refuse, or reject. He had to find the flaws in both Shen Nian and his system and expose Shen Nian’s true nature before the entire world.

And to do that, he had to make sure Shen Nian remained unaware that he was no longer under the story’s control—he had to lull him into a false sense of security.

Troublesome.

Gu Shishu was a pragmatic and highly driven individual. In order to find a way to break free from this situation, he once again reviewed the black book’s storyline.

With numerous sighs and forehead rubs—and occasionally even looking away in sheer frustration—he finally finished retracing Shen Nian’s entire trajectory.

So, he had seduced the Yao King first, then the Human Emperor. These two figures, after being deceived both physically and emotionally, were now utterly devoted to him. Yet Shen Nian had fabricated all kinds of excuses, claiming he had to “temporarily leave” them. To make it more convincing, he even gave himself a tragic backstory—suffering from an incurable illness that required him to retreat to an isolated place for treatment.

Those two foolishly devoted beauties, longing for him day and night—

Gu Shishu couldn’t help but think, they probably still believed he was somewhere, yearning for them in solitude. Little did they know that their so-called “one true light,” their “salvation,” had already changed his face and moved on to seducing someone else.

Was this what they called redemption?

He didn’t believe in that kind of salvation.

As he read, Gu Shishu reassured himself that none of the events involving him had actually happened. He was nothing like that foolish third conquest in the book.

They were just characters in a fictional tale.

Just like he had thought before—he had read even more ridiculous stories than this.

His fingers, flipping through the pages, paused slightly when his gaze once again landed on a name:

Qingcheng Sword Sovereign, Fu Tingxue.

A man whose sword was even faster than divine tribulation.

He blinked, summoned the Heavenly Dao, and asked—

“Fu Tingxue is clearly a renowned and powerful figure of this era, so why didn’t Shen Nian try to win him over?”

Within the Eight Desolations, across the human, demon, and immortal realms, the so-called “Child of Fate” had already “redeemed” the supreme rulers of both the human and demon worlds.

Yet in the cultivation world, there was the Sword Sovereign, Fu Tingxue, in the open, and the Demon Lord, Gu Shishu, in the shadows.

If not for that calamity a hundred years ago, Fu Tingxue’s strength might have been on par with his own.

Even so, Fu Tingxue remained the unparalleled master of swordsmanship, transcendent and virtuous, upholding justice while leading the most prestigious righteous sect. Among the immortal masters of higher status than him, one would be hard-pressed to find even a single worthy name.

But the moment Gu Shishu asked the question, he realized it was a foolish one. He ran his fingers over the words “redeem the villain” in the book, his smile obscure and unreadable.

“Of course, he isn’t a villain—why would he need redemption? It’s I who have been shackled.”

The pages of the Heavenly Dao’s book trembled under his touch, instinctively sensing fear at the Demon Lord’s expression.

Yet what had to be said still had to be said. The original text faded, and a new line slowly emerged:

“Fu Tingxue cultivates the Path of Emotionless Dao.”

Gu Shishu stared at those words for a few seconds. Instead of reacting with surprise, he simply lowered his head and laughed, silent but deep.

After laughing, he resumed his usual careless demeanor, as if the brief moment of amusement had left no trace on his mind. He tapped the black book idly.

“Well, that’s truly unfortunate for him. Since he holds no value in the Child of Fate’s eyes as a target for conquest, he ends up being cast as the villain instead.”

Indeed, under Shen Nian’s influence, the demons and devils in the book were gradually reinterpreted as tragic heroes burdened with past sorrows, while the once-revered righteous sects were tainted with the label of hypocritical pretenders.

People loved to see villains reform, yet they could never tolerate a righteous man making even a single misstep.

Gu Shishu found it laughable—so much so that he considered Shen Nian’s flattery, “The people here are all good”, to be the funniest joke he had heard in the past hundred years.

Though he himself agreed that “there’s nothing truly good about the righteous path,” the inverse of that statement would then be “but there are at least a few good people among them.”

And if one were to invert “there are good people even among demonic cultivators,” it would suggest that “most demonic cultivators are not good people.”

As the supreme ruler of the demonic path, Gu Shishu knew better than anyone the greed, madness, and desire that surrounded him. Yet many outsiders, with little more than a shallow understanding, found it easy to define an entire group based on a handful of individuals.

But setting all that aside, Shen Nian was still parading around with the reputation of a “pitiful disciple bullied by his sect.” As a disciple of Qingcheng Sect, he technically fell under Fu Tingxue’s jurisdiction.

Gu Shishu recalled the utterly absurd revenge arc from the black book.

Within the book’s narrative, the version of Gu Shishu who had been bewitched by Shen Nian’s universal heartthrob aura was thoroughly manipulated by him. Deeply moved, he had personally climbed Qingcheng Mountain to confront Fu Tingxue.

Blade in hand, he forced the silver-haired Sword Sovereign back several steps, each strike carrying lethal intent, nearly causing Fu Tingxue to sustain injuries severe enough to cripple his cultivation.

In the sect’s main hall, he had unleashed scathing words of ridicule, each one more cutting than the last. His demonic aura had swept through the entire Qingcheng Sect, leaving every peak gravely weakened. The disciples were stricken with fear, the entire sect thrown into turmoil.

What a ridiculous spectacle of vengeance.

The Gu Shishu in the book had even provided Shen Nian with pills to boost his spiritual power, as well as divine weapons and artifacts, allowing him to exact revenge on the senior brothers who had once humiliated him.

Given such an opportunity, Shen Nian had, of course, indulged his desires freely—either maiming or killing anyone who displeased him, reveling in the intoxicating pleasure of wielding absolute power.

And in the end, it was the silver-haired Sword Sovereign who was forced to kneel before Shen Nian and apologize.

Fu Tingxue, the lone crane amidst frost and sky, had always carried himself with an unyielding spine. Yet for the sake of his sect, he had no choice but to bow before a nameless, unremarkable disciple.

A pearl buried in dust.
A sword of frost, now broken.

Though his eyes reflected humiliation, they remained as clear and cold as ice and snow.

From Shen Nian’s perspective, this revenge was a resounding success—his vanity and greed had been thoroughly satiated.

The boy who had been adored by all needed only to flash a smile at his conquest, and the world would be handed to him on a silver platter.

In a display of arrogance, he had clung to Gu Shishu like a parasitic vine, demanding a kiss as a reward—all while standing before the elders of Qingcheng Sect, before the humiliated and kneeling Fu Tingxue.

And in that moment, the Gu Shishu of the book had held him close and whispered sweetly,

“Nian Nian, if you want it, I’ll give you my very life.”

What kind of lunacy was this?

Gu Shishu shut the book in disgust, deeply repulsed by the idea of a version of himself—bearing his name, his strength—yet acting in complete defiance of his own will.

A nameless fury burned within him, smoldering at the depths of his soul.

His gaze bore into the book’s dark cover, as if trying to burn a hole through it.

Sensing danger, the Heavenly Dao struggled within his grasp, but he clenched it even tighter.

Had the black book never appeared, he would have truly lost his mind—fallen for a person of such weak character, devoid of ambition, and not even particularly remarkable in appearance.

…He would have lost his identity, his free will, his very soul—reduced to a mere puppet in the so-called Child of Fate’s grand love story.

…He would have been the one to force Fu Tingxue to kneel.

Which of these fates was the most unbearable? The one that had shaken him so deeply, to the point of losing control over his own emotions?

A sudden, overwhelming urge surged through Gu Shishu.

He wanted to contact Fu Tingxue. Desperately.

And as someone who did whatever he pleased, without fear or hesitation, there was nothing in the Three Realms that he dared not do.

This would be no exception.

He reached into his storage space and retrieved a set of talismans.

They were voice-transmission talismans, inscribed for the exclusive use of the two of them. The moment one was activated, the voice of the sender would resonate directly in the other’s ears—

No matter the distance.
No matter the time.
No matter the circumstance.

He had made plenty back then, worried there wouldn’t be enough.

He hadn’t used them in a long time, but they had always been there.

The closer one is to home, the greater the hesitation.

Despite all his earlier justifications for acting as he pleased, now that the moment had come, Gu Shishu found himself hesitating.

But in the end, he allowed a trace of spiritual energy to flow through his fingertips, activating the talisman.

The other end was silent.

Gu Shishu knew this silence all too well.

Lowering his gaze, he curled his lips into a smile, concealing all the turmoil beneath.

“I trust you’ve been well—Immortal Sovereign Fu.”