[Regent's Residence · Hidden Chamber]
Candlelight flickered and danced.
Yin Wuwang sat at the bedside, motionless.
Five hours now.
His eyes had never left Xie Qingyan's face, hadn't closed once. That face remained pale, bloodless, breathless—like an exquisite porcelain doll. In the flickering candlelight, it looked almost peaceful, as if he were merely sleeping. But Yin Wuwang knew better. He knew what death looked like, and this was too close for comfort.
Yin Wuwang held his hand. It was still cold, only slightly warmer than before. He had been tracking the temperature obsessively—every tiny change, every fraction of a degree. It was all he had to hold onto.
He knew he should stay calm. The feigned death pill lasted six hours. There wouldn't be any problems. No matter how useless that broken system was, it wouldn't dare deceive him on something like this.
But—what if?
The thought burrowed into his mind like a venomous snake, impossible to drive away.
What if something went wrong with the drug? What if those 500,000 points bought a fake? What if the pain suppression talisman interfered somehow? What if Fuguang really...
He didn't dare think further.
"Fuguang." He said softly.
No response.
"Fuguang." He called again.
Still no response.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Yin Wuwang, calm down. You've seen more life and death than everyone in this world combined. At Nine Abyss Mountain, you alone faced over a dozen Golden Core cultivators from the righteous sects. You weren't afraid then. During the war between righteous and demonic factions, you fought Fuguang for three days and three nights, nearly destroying each other. You weren't afraid then either.
How is it that you—
He opened his eyes, looking at the figure on the bed.
How is it that you've become so pathetic?
All this time. I've loved Fuguang in secret for so long, and I've never said a single word. If something really happens to Fuguang, I won't even have the chance to tell him.
He lowered his head, pressing his forehead to the back of their joined hands.
Fuguang... please wake up...
Meanwhile, at Prince Huai's residence.
Physician Lin reported to Prince Huai: The Regent showed no pulse, no breath, no heartbeat. But the coloration and body temperature were abnormal—it didn't feel like a truly dead person. He was about to examine more closely when someone struck him from behind.
Prince Huai was silent for a moment, a cold light flashing in his eyes.
Abnormal coloration and temperature... So what was tonight's "assassination"? A performance?
The Duke of Zhenguo and the Regent... staged a play together?
Interesting. Very interesting.
If true, it meant he had been played. The two men he had thought were destroying each other had actually been working together all along. The "assassination" that was supposed to clear the board for him was nothing but theater.
But Prince Huai was not a man who panicked easily. He had waited ten years for this moment. He could adapt.
Prince Huai let out a cold laugh. I've played sick for ten years—I'm no amateur. Let's see who wins this game in the end.
Even if the Regent isn't truly dead, it changes nothing. The whole city believes he is. The court believes he is. Tomorrow I will announce my regency, and by the time they reveal their hand, it will be too late.
[Regent's Residence · Hidden Chamber]
Time crawled by, moment by moment.
Yin Wuwang held Xie Qingyan's hand, waiting.
Outside, the world churned—Prince Huai calculating, the Prime Minister anxious, the entire city hunting the "murderer" Duke of Zhenguo.
But none of it concerned him.
Mortal schemes are so much simpler than the cultivation world. Prince Huai and the Prime Minister suspect each other, probe each other, each thinking themselves the chess master when they're actually just pieces.
Once Fuguang wakes, we'll deal with them together.
He only wanted to see Fuguang open his eyes.
"Fuguang... hold on a little longer..." He said softly. "It's almost dawn..."
He lowered his head, pressing his forehead to that hand again.
That hand seemed slightly warmer than before. A sign of improvement? Or was he imagining it?
He wasn't sure. But he chose to believe.
Fuguang, you must wake up. When you do, I'll tell you.
Even if you don't accept it, I still have to tell you.
"Fuguang... if you dare truly die on me..." His voice was hoarse. "I'll tear this broken world apart and go with you."
The candle wick trembled. Outside the window, the sky was beginning to lighten.
Darkness.
Endless, boundless darkness.
Xie Qingyan's consciousness drifted in the darkness, like a fallen leaf floating in a fathomless lake.
He couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Couldn't open his eyes.
The feigned death pill's effects hadn't worn off yet—his consciousness was clear, but his body was sealed as if by some ancient restriction. This feeling... was like being trapped in that primordial seal in the Nine Heavens all those years ago.
But he could hear sounds.
"Fuguang... hold on a little longer... it's almost dawn..."
"Fuguang... if you dare truly die on me... I'll tear this broken world apart and go with you."
That was Yin Wuwang's voice. Hoarse. Exhausted. With a hint of... trembling?
Xie Qingyan listened quietly in the darkness.
How long has he been watching over me?
From the time he "died" until now, it had to have been five hours. Yin Wuwang had sat there the entire time, watching for five hours? Holding his hand for five hours? Not eating, not drinking, not resting—just sitting there in the cold chamber, staring at what he thought might be a corpse?
This person... why would he do this?
The drug effects were stable—nothing would go wrong. There was so much to handle outside—Prince Huai, the Prime Minister, the physician, the evidence—which of those wasn't more important than sitting here doing nothing?
Yet he chose to stay.
And those words he had spoken, thinking no one could hear...
"I'll tear this broken world apart and go with you."
What kind of person says something like that about a former enemy?
Xie Qingyan thought back to the war between righteous and demonic factions all those years ago. Back then they were enemies, fighting for three days and nights. Yin Wuwang had said, "If you dare lose to anyone else, I'll destroy the entire cultivation world"—at the time, he had dismissed it as the Demon Sovereign's arrogance.
Looking back now...
That sentence, and tonight's "tear the world apart and go with you," were surprisingly similar.
All along, this person's way of speaking had been so...
He couldn't find the right word. Chuunibyou? Childish? Or...
Or what?
He didn't want to think about it.
Little Deer's voice echoed in the depths of his consciousness: "Reminder: Drug effects are about to end. Host should be waking soon."
Finally.
Xie Qingyan felt the force sealing his body beginning to fade. He tried moving his fingers.
"Fuguang?" Yin Wuwang's voice suddenly rose. "Can you hear me?"
Xie Qingyan wanted to answer, but his throat still couldn't produce sound. He could only try moving his fingers again.
Someone gripped his hand tighter. That hand was warm, a stark contrast to his ice-cold fingers.
Light pierced through his eyelids.
Xie Qingyan finally opened his eyes.
The first thing he saw was Yin Wuwang's face. That face was very close—close enough to see the red veins in his eyes, the dark circles beneath them, the tension in his jaw that was only now beginning to ease.
Red-rimmed eyes. Exhaustion written in every line.
Six hours, and he truly hadn't closed his eyes once.
This fool.
"You're awake." Yin Wuwang's voice was somewhat hoarse. "The drug lasted exactly six hours."
There was relief in those words—profound, desperate relief that he was trying and failing to hide. His grip on Xie Qingyan's hand had tightened reflexively, as if afraid he might slip away again.
Xie Qingyan opened his mouth, his voice raspy: "...How long were you watching?"
"Not long."
Xie Qingyan looked into his eyes. The red veins in those purple irises couldn't lie.
Yin Wuwang seemed uncomfortable under his gaze, looking away: "What are you staring at?"
"Your eyes are red."
Yin Wuwang's body stiffened slightly. Then he said nonchalantly: "The wind."
"What wind in a sealed chamber?"
"...The candle. The candle smoke."
Xie Qingyan didn't speak, but the corner of his mouth moved slightly.
Yin Wuwang grew more uncomfortable: "What exactly are you trying to say?"
"Nothing." Xie Qingyan paused. "Understood."
Yin Wuwang was taken aback: "Understood what—I was just confirming the drug worked."
"Confirming the drug requires watching for six hours?"
"What if something went wrong with an unstable drug? I spent 500,000 points on it! Of course I had to keep watch!"
His voice rose defensively, and Xie Qingyan noted with some amusement that his ears had turned pink.
The mighty Demon Sovereign, blushing like a boy caught stealing sweets.
Xie Qingyan didn't press further.
He lay on the bed, looking at the ceiling.
500,000 points. Six hours. Red-rimmed eyes.
And that sentence—"tear the world apart and go with you."
This person... what exactly is he thinking?
Three thousand years they had known each other. Three thousand years of enmity, of crossed swords, of standing on opposite sides of every battle. And now, in this strange world where they were forced to play different roles, something had shifted. The Demon Sovereign who had once sworn to destroy everything Xie Qingyan protected was now sitting by his bedside through the night, holding his hand, waiting for him to wake.
When did things change?
Or... had they always been this way, and I simply never noticed?
Yin Wuwang, guilty under his silence, looked away: "Anyway... it's good that you're awake. There's work tomorrow."
He stood up, back to Xie Qingyan: "Hungry? Thirsty?"
"Neither."
"...Then rest." Yin Wuwang paused. "Tomorrow Prince Huai will announce his regency. We'll strike when he's most pleased with himself, make him fall the hardest."
Xie Qingyan nodded: "Understood."
He propped himself up to sit, and Yin Wuwang immediately hurried forward to support him.
"Slow down—you just woke up, don't move around too quickly."
Xie Qingyan glanced at him: "You're a strange person."
"What's strange about me?!"
"Your mouth says you were just confirming the drug, but your body is very honest."
Yin Wuwang's face flushed red: "You—what nonsense!"
His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and he looked anywhere but at Xie Qingyan's face. The tips of his ears were crimson. The mighty Demon Sovereign, who had faced armies without flinching, was completely undone by a single teasing remark.
Xie Qingyan said nothing more, just leaned against the headboard and closed his eyes.
He could still feel Yin Wuwang's gaze on him—uncertain, flustered, wanting to say something but not knowing what.
Yin Wuwang stood frozen, face burning: "You rest. Call me if you need anything."
He pushed open the door and walked out, his footsteps slightly too quick—almost fleeing.
The hidden chamber fell quiet again.
Xie Qingyan opened his eyes, looking toward the direction Yin Wuwang had left.
Just now, that had definitely been deliberate teasing. Watching him blush like that... was rather amusing.
But jokes aside, there were some things he couldn't pretend he hadn't heard.
"Fuguang, if you dare truly die on me, I'll tear this broken world apart and go with you."
What did that sentence mean?
Would a former mortal enemy say something like that?
He thought back over all the moments from these past days—
In the black market, Yin Wuwang had immediately stepped in front of him, shielding him without a second thought.
During the interrogation, his insight into human nature had been remarkable—reading people like open books, manipulating them with ease.
When planning the feigned death, his "frame the Prime Minister" scheme was more thorough than his own, anticipating moves three steps ahead.
And tonight, six hours of vigil. Six hours of holding a cold hand and waiting. Six hours of refusing to leave even when there was nothing he could do.
This person... compared to before, seems to have changed a great deal. And yet... seems not to have changed at all.
The Demon Sovereign had always been intense, obsessive, unwilling to accept any outcome but complete victory. But that intensity had always been directed at destruction, at conquest, at proving his dominance over the world.
When had it turned into this—this fierce, desperate protectiveness?
Xie Qingyan closed his eyes, adjusting his breathing.
Tomorrow there would be a hard battle to fight. Prince Huai's regency ceremony. The final confrontation. The ultimate endgame of this entire elaborate scheme.
Everything else could wait until after.
He turned onto his side, facing the door Yin Wuwang had fled through. His hand moved to the spot on the bed where warmth still lingered—where someone had sat for six hours, holding his cold fingers, refusing to leave.
He let his palm rest there for a moment.
Then he closed his eyes and let exhaustion finally claim him.
[End of Chapter 29]
Next Chapter Preview:
The night before the confrontation. Sleep won't come. So why not climb to the roof and share a drink?
Under the stars, two former enemies sit side by side. And some things, once said, cannot be unsaid.
Chapter 30: The Night Before the Coup—Can't Sleep, Might As Well Drink on the Rooftop