[Regent's Residence · Rooftop · Midnight]
The moon finally emerged from behind the clouds, casting down a cold, clear light.
The two of them sat side by side on the roof ridge, a jug of wine at their feet.
The tiles were cool beneath them, still holding the chill of the day's rain. Below, the Regent's residence lay silent—servants asleep, guards at their posts, everything wrapped in the hush that comes before a storm. Tomorrow, everything would change. But tonight, there was only this: two figures on a rooftop, sharing a jug of wine under the stars.
Yin Wuwang had grabbed the wine from the kitchen on a whim. He didn't know what kind it was—it had a faint osmanthus fragrance, probably homemade by the Regent's household servants, aged who knows how many years.
As long as it was drinkable, that was fine.
He took a swig. The fiery liquid slid down his throat, igniting a blaze in his stomach. It was stronger than he expected—mortal alcohol, but with a kick that almost reminded him of the spirit wines back in the cultivation world.
"This wine's not bad," he said.
Xie Qingyan didn't respond, just reached out to take the jug and drank a mouthful himself.
Yin Wuwang stole a glance at him.
In the moonlight, Xie Qingyan's profile was like jade—clear, luminous, untouched by dust. His eyelashes were long, casting faint shadows across his face.
I've looked at him for so long, and I still can't look enough.
He quickly averted his gaze, looking toward the dark silhouette of the palace in the distance.
"Tomorrow is the decisive battle."
"Mm."
"That old thing Prince Huai probably never dreamed tomorrow would be his death day."
"Mm."
"That old fox the Prime Minister too—thinks he's the mantis catching the cicada, never knowing there's an oriole behind."
"Mm."
Yin Wuwang grew somewhat irritated.
"Don't you have anything else to say?"
Xie Qingyan turned to look at him, his gaze calm: "What do you want to hear?"
Yin Wuwang choked.
What do I want to hear?
I want to hear you say...
He strangled that thought in its cradle.
Don't even think about it. Impossible.
He took another swig of wine and fell silent.
Xie Qingyan also said nothing.
The two of them just sat there in silence, watching the distant horizon.
Wind blew past, carrying the particular coolness of night.
Yin Wuwang could smell the faint scent on Xie Qingyan—like pine and cypress on a snow mountain, cold with a hint of bitterness. He knew this scent too well, could recognize it with his eyes closed.
The first time he had smelled it was in the snow.
Back then, he had been on the verge of death, certain he would die. A pack of righteous cultivators had hunted him for three days, and he had finally collapsed in a snowdrift, bleeding from a dozen wounds, his spiritual energy depleted. He was just a minor demon then—weak, worthless, certain that no one would mourn his passing.
Then a figure in white descended from the sky. Silver hair, amber eyes, a sword at his hip that gleamed like frost. The Sword Deity of the cultivation world—the most feared, most revered figure in all the realms.
He had looked down at the dying demon without expression, then casually tossed him a medicinal pill and left without looking back. No words. No explanation. Just that single act of inexplicable mercy.
He had chased that retreating figure for an entire lifetime. To stand before him, he had cultivated from a dying minor demon into the Demon Sovereign of Nine Abyss Mountain. How many people he had killed along the way, how many factions he had offended—he had long lost count.
All to be worthy of standing in front of that person.
But he didn't remember me.
He had saved so many people; I was just one of them. To him, that day was nothing more than a casual act, forgotten the moment he turned away. But to me... it was the only light in all these years. The only reason I kept going.
"What are you thinking about?"
Xie Qingyan's voice pulled him back from memory.
"Nothing." Yin Wuwang said. "Just thinking about tomorrow's plan."
Xie Qingyan didn't expose his lie, only said mildly: "The plan is already thorough."
"Yes..." Yin Wuwang looked toward the distant palace. "Everything is ready. We only await the east wind."
In the cultivation world, opponents of this level—I could handle them alone. But now, without spiritual power, I can only use mortal methods—commanding troops, laying schemes, waiting for the right moment. It sounds troublesome, but it's also... rather interesting.
At least I can fight side by side with Fuguang.
Silence.
After a long while, Yin Wuwang spoke again.
"Are you afraid?"
"Afraid of what?"
"What if the plan fails... what if Prince Huai has backup moves... what if our ambush can't hold them... what if..."
He couldn't continue.
What if something happens to you.
What if I can't protect you.
What if...
Xie Qingyan turned to look at him.
Moonlight fell on his face. Those amber eyes were as calm as a deep pool.
"You will catch me."
Yin Wuwang's heart skipped a beat.
"...What?"
"If the plan fails," Xie Qingyan's voice was perfectly calm, "you will catch me."
Yin Wuwang froze.
He wanted to say: On what basis? On what basis do you trust me like this? I'm the Demon Sovereign, the sworn enemy of the righteous path, the foe you hunted for a lifetime. I've killed countless people, my hands are stained with blood, I've never been a good person.
On what basis do you believe I will catch you?
"On what basis do you trust me like this?"
He heard his own voice, somewhat hoarse.
Xie Qingyan looked at him, his gaze calm.
Then he said four words.
"It's just trust."
Yin Wuwang's heart skipped two more beats.
This person, Fuguang...
When you say things like that, could your eyes not be so serious?!
What do you mean "just trust"? What kind of reason is that? That's not even a reason!
Just trust. As if it were the simplest thing in the world. As if trusting the Demon Sovereign—the most feared, most hated being in the cultivation world—was as natural as breathing.
Three thousand years. For three thousand years, no one had trusted him. His own subordinates obeyed him out of fear. His enemies hunted him out of hatred. Even the demons who served him kept one eye open when they slept, never knowing when he might turn on them.
Trust was a weakness. Trust got you killed.
And yet here was Fuguang, saying "just trust" like it was nothing.
But... why is it that hearing these four words makes my heart pound harder than after fighting for three days and three nights?!
Fuguang... does he acknowledge me now?
No, no, don't overthink it. He just thinks I'm reliable, it's not... not that meaning.
But even if it's only this much, I...
He quickly looked away and took a large gulp of wine.
The liquor choked his throat, making him cough several times.
"Bastard," he cursed, though it was unclear whether he was cursing Xie Qingyan or himself. Probably both. Probably the whole situation—the moonlight, the wine, the way his heart wouldn't stop pounding like a war drum.
But the corner of his mouth couldn't help curving upward.
Fuguang trusts me.
That's enough. For now, that's more than enough.
Xie Qingyan watched Yin Wuwang's profile, a hint of amusement flickering in his eyes.
This person.
Always so contrary—saying one thing, meaning another.
Clearly worried sick, yet pretending to be unconcerned. Clearly caring desperately, yet stubbornly insisting "it has nothing to do with me." That question just now—"are you afraid"—clearly wasn't about the plan failing at all, yet he had to beat around such a large bush.
In the cultivation world, Yin Wuwang had been terrifying. Cold, ruthless, unpredictable—a force of nature that couldn't be reasoned with or negotiated. Xie Qingyan had faced him in battle dozens of times, and never once had he seen vulnerability.
But here, on this rooftop, under this moon—the Demon Sovereign was blushing because someone said they trusted him.
Yin Wuwang, oh Yin Wuwang... do you think I can't see through you?
Your question about "being afraid" wasn't about the plan at all. You're worried about me.
This sentiment... I accept it.
He didn't say it aloud.
He just withdrew his gaze and continued looking at the distant horizon.
But something had shifted. Something small, barely perceptible—like the first crack in ice at the start of spring thaw.
He was smiling.
Xie Qingyan suddenly noticed this.
Yin Wuwang was smiling.
Back in the Nine Heavens, Yin Wuwang rarely smiled. He was the Demon Sovereign, the Lord of Nine Abyss Mountain, an existence that made countless cultivators tremble in fear. His face always wore coldness and killing intent, like an unsheathed blade. Even in victory, even when his enemies lay broken at his feet, his expression never changed.
But now, he was smiling.
The smile was faint, just a slight curve at the corner of his mouth, but in the moonlight, it was exceptionally clear. It softened his features, made him look younger somehow—more like the person he might have been if the world had been kinder.
So this is what he looks like when he smiles...
Completely different from the Demon Sovereign of the Nine Heavens. Back then, Yin Wuwang's eyes held only killing intent and ambition. But now...
This smile makes one want to look a few more times.
This smile makes one want to see it again.
Xie Qingyan said nothing, just passed the wine jug over.
Yin Wuwang took it and drank another mouthful.
The two of them sat side by side like this, one jug of wine, one night of wind.
Not discussing heavy topics, not talking about tomorrow's battle.
Just sitting.
Occasionally exchanging a few inconsequential words, occasionally falling silent, occasionally glancing at each other, then casually looking away.
It was strange, Yin Wuwang thought. Three thousand years of enmity, and yet sitting here felt... natural. Comfortable. Like they had been doing this forever, sharing silences and stolen glances under countless different moons.
Maybe they had, in a way. All those battles, all those confrontations—hadn't they been a kind of conversation? A dialogue written in sword strokes and spiritual energy, in feints and parries and near-misses?
We've always understood each other, he realized. Even when we were trying to kill each other.
Time passed, bit by bit.
The wine jug emptied.
The moon tilted westward.
On the eastern horizon, a faint fish-belly white gradually appeared.
"Time to prepare." Yin Wuwang stood, stretching lazily.
Xie Qingyan nodded and also rose.
Their eyes met.
Something passed between them—unspoken, unacknowledged, but undeniably there. The weight of three thousand years. The lightness of this single night.
Yin Wuwang suddenly spoke: "After today—"
He paused, not finishing.
Xie Qingyan waited a moment, then asked: "After today, what?"
Yin Wuwang shook his head: "Nothing."
After today... perhaps the relationship between Fuguang and me will be different.
At least, we won't just be "old enemies" anymore, right?
We've fought side by side. We've schemed together. We've sat on a rooftop and shared a jug of wine. That has to mean something.
He didn't say it aloud.
Some words, once spoken, would only seem strange.
"Let's go," he said. "The decisive battle—is today."
The two leaped down from the rooftop and returned to their rooms to prepare.
The night was ending. Dawn was breaking. And with it, a new chapter was beginning—for the empire, for their enemies, and perhaps for them as well.
Yin Wuwang walked a few steps, then suddenly turned back for a glance.
Xie Qingyan's figure disappeared at the end of the corridor, his white robes glowing faintly in the morning light.
Fuguang said "just trust"...
In my entire life, I don't think anyone has ever trusted me like that.
Not my subordinates, who obeyed out of fear. Not my enemies, who fought out of hatred. Not even myself—I've never trusted myself the way Fuguang trusts me.
This feeling... isn't bad at all.
Actually, it's the best feeling I've ever had.
He took a deep breath and strode away.
In the distance, the palace silhouette gradually became clear in the morning sun. The Hall of Supreme Harmony, where Prince Huai would hold his regency ceremony. The place where, in just a few hours, everything would be decided.
Prince Huai, your good days are over.
And Fuguang... when this is finished, I'll tell you. I'll finally tell you everything.
Even if you don't feel the same way. Even if you look at me with those calm eyes and say nothing. At least I'll have said it.
At least you'll know.
[End of Chapter 31]
Next Chapter Preview:
The regency ceremony begins. Prince Huai sits beside the dragon throne, certain of his victory.
Then the doors burst open.
"Report—! The Duke of Zhenguo is storming the palace with troops!"
Chapter 32: Prince Huai's Enthronement Ceremony—This Duke Has Come to Crash the Party