Bai Li had never been one to care about other people’s face. During the years he’d spent as Demon Lord, he did whatever he pleased; thus, he ended up completely ignoring the Yao King, who was solemnly scrutinizing an important treaty.
The Yao King, Zhao Rong, opened his mouth a few times as if to speak, but then thought better of it. The Demon Lord really was lacking social graces – they’d just been in the middle of serious business when he’d suddenly stuck his foot in. He was so taken aback that he’d forgotten what he was going to say. But he was the Demon Lord, and he, despite being courteously called ‘the king of yao,’ was no more than a small tiger yao. He couldn’t do anything about him at all.
… Plus, he could tell from that Lord Sixth’s expression that he was also so at a loss he’d lost his train of thought.
Shi Wuduan was being clutched so tightly in Bai Li’s claws he could barely move. He difficultly turned his neck and patted Bai Li’s arm, asking, “What’s the matter?”
Bai Li didn’t speak. His heart was twisting painfully, but he didn’t know how to describe it, so he merely buried his face as his arms shook with faint tremors.
For a moment, Shi Wuduan was stunned, then unwittingly fell into silence as well. With his back pressed closely against Bai Li’s body, he could feel the other’s trembling and his warmth.
No one had ever asked him what he was scheming so madly for, and he’d never explained himself to anyone before.
Explanations really were such useless things — because some words, even if they were spoken aloud, wouldn’t be understood. It’d just give ignorant people reasons to flagrantly point and blame.
Later, Shi Wuduan got over it. He realized that — different people live differently.
Some people were like wild grass; give them a square of land, a few tiles over their head to block the rain, some straw to use as a bed, a bowl, a table, some food and water, and they could live just fine. Some were like porcelain, they needed silks, fine delicacies, rouge and romance, before they could bloom like a fragile flower. The tiniest bit of wind or rain could make them wither. Some people were like hawks, neither the most beautiful place nor the most beautiful women would ever stay their restless hearts. They needed freedom, needed to always walk on a road that would take them into the unknown. Without freedom they’d doubtlessly die.
Everyone was following their instincts, searching for the things they thought were important; food, shelter, acceptance, freedom, ambition, or maybe just a particular person’s heart.
People were stratified into all sorts of grades and ranks, after all, it did make a difference whether they ate grass or whether they ate flesh in the previous lives. Sometimes, Shi Wuduan thought that no one could ever truly understand another.
But the instant Bai Li hugged him fiercely from behind, Shi Wuduan suddenly had the delusion that, in truth, he understood everything. That feeling, even though he knew it might very likely be a misconception, made him feel very lost. His heart, beating smooth and steady, was suddenly seized and skipped a beat.
The Yao King, Zhao Rong, had the fortune of witnessing Lord Sixth open and close his mouth repeatedly, then, still not know what to say, clear his throat dryly and speak, “This is a rather monumental matter, and it’s already late now. If you’re not in a rush, Yao King, why not stay on the mountain for the night and continue this discussion tomorrow.”
Then, when he finished, he belatedly recalled the true master of Bodhi Mountain and asked faux-courteously, “If I may impose on the sect master for a night?”
The sect master smiled genially as he thought, when the dove takes over the magpie’s nest, can the magpie protest?
We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.
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Later, it would be known as “the Myriad Yao Banquet,” and the day it had occurred on, the first day of the twelfth month, would become a holiday known as the “Banquet Festival.” Legend had it that on that day, hundreds of yao walked amidst the human realm. The peasants would sing and make merry throughout the night, doing away with curfew, to entertain these honored guests. The city would arrange a ceremony as well as lantern displays. Every year, young men and popular courtesans would dress up as yao and perform.
Gu Huaiyang promised to designate the Amu Grasslands and all the land within a hundred kilometers of it as the yao’s territory and signed a treaty to never trespass. From then on, the yao would be forbidden from killing humans, or else they’d be punished by divine lightning.
The Yao King, Zhao Rong, made a show of putting his name on the treaty that he’d already signed before. A ball of light emerged from his hand, turned into a chain, and wound around the future emperor of humans and the king of the yao. The Emperor’s Star flashed, lightning fast. It was like the vast sea of stars had reflected the contract. The chain of light turned into fire and landed upon the contract, instantly burning it away.
That very night, Zhao Rong withdrew his hundred-thousand yao army.
Bai Li wasn’t one to stick his nose into all that excitement — he knew he didn’t have the patience to purposely put on an act and pretend the contract was being signed for the first time. When it was already late into the night, he blew out the lights in his room, closed his eyes, and almost sank into meditation. Suddenly, a shadow flickered outside his door.
Bai Li’s eyes shot open, he growled, “Who is it?”
A woman’s voice responded from outside, “An insignificant yao by the name of Biluo, carrying out orders from my king to invite the Demon Lord for a discussion.”
When Bai Li opened the door, the female yao trembled under his gaze and unwittingly took a step back.
Bai Li asked coldly, “The Yao King? What does Zhao Rong want with me?”
The female yao stuttered, “I don’t know.”
Bai Li looked askance at her, but didn’t give her any trouble. He said indifferently, “Lead the way.”
The female yao hurriedly scurried away like she was being chased by some ferocious beast. She was so frightened she didn’t dare look back.
The feast hadn’t ended yet, so it was strange that Zhao Rong had slipped away. He was sitting at a stone table in a small garden, waiting for him. The female yao led Bai Li there and looked at him anxiously. Zhao Rong said, “Biluo, your job is done, you can go.” She fled like the wind as if she’d just been pardoned from death row.
“Sit, Demon Lord,” Zhao Rong said.
Bai Li replied crisply, “No thanks. If you’ve anything to say, spit it out.”
Zhao Rong glanced at him, then stood up himself, in a gesture of politeness, and said, “Since you’re a straightforward person, then I won’t beat around the bush. I assume… that you’re clear on the current situation. No matter how much futile resistance Yan Zhen puts up, it’s only a matter of time. General Gu’s already fought his way to Datong City. He’ll reach the capital very soon.”
Bai Li didn’t respond.
Zhao Rong clasped his hands behind his back and turned to look at him, his face etched with overwrought worry, “I don’t know if you’ve heard of this information from the Mi Sect — the Hall of Demons is tied to the fate of the country. If the Demon Lord doesn’t die, then this country will never fall.”
Bai Li’s gaze sharpened, nearly slicing the flesh from Zhao Rong’s face. He gritted his teeth, “What’s it to you?”
Zhao Rong continued, “Well, it sounds quite mysterious, but us cultivators all know that it’s merely a result of karma. If that karma is severed, then so is the connection — the fact that you were able to emerge is entirely because of Sir Yan of the Mi Sect’s actions. He helped you escape from the outside, and subdue the thousands of demon shadows. If you discard your demon blood, endure the pain of having your skin flayed and your bones gouged, degrade to a yao, and abandon your unparalleled power, that is also a way to end this karmic relation.”
Bai Li’s expression remained placid, without any trace of anger, as he continued watching him, silently and expressionlessly.
“I presume this is how Lord Sixth intends to handle it,” Zhao Rong said, eyeing him.
Bai Li said, “What are you trying to say?”
A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of Zhao Rong’s lips as he said languidly, “You resemble your mother, Demon Lord, you value your bonds so deeply, willing to dedicate your whole heart and soul. I respect that, but I just can’t help feel that you’re getting the short end of the bargain.”
Bai Li sneered coldly, “I finally understand the meaning of that common saying — fussing over how salty your pickled carrots are.”
Zhao Rong raised his head and looked him in the eye, “Are you going to cut off your means of retreat and stubbornly stay your course then?”
He knew his words would hit the mark — human hearts were fickle. Who knew what those sweet, honeyed affections would become after being worn away by the passing of time?
Nothing in this world was unchanging, much less a human heart. They were all people who’d struggled to survive in this cruel world, they all knew that the only thing under heaven that they could rely on was the sword within their hands. Zhao Rong’s meaning was very clear — even when you were so powerful, he didn’t value you; to suffer so much for one person, to throw away that which guarantees your survival, is it worth it?
Zhao Rong said gently, “Worldly matters are heavier than steel, emotions are but a feather. I don’t mean anything by it, I just hope that you’ll think carefully before you act, Demon Lord.”
Bai Li’s eyelids twitched very slightly. His gaze, weighty and cold, fell on Zhao Rong, who didn’t shy away in the least. He saw, in Bai Li’s eyes, that he was beginning to waver.
He sighed, no longer trying to provoke Bai Li, and took a small bottle from the fold of his robes. It seemed to shine faintly under the moonlight. Zhao Rong pushed it carefully to Bai Li and explained, “This water is called ‘Never Part.’ Legend has it that to obtain a single bottle, one must pluck a star from the lovestruck sky, scoop a ladle of tears from the lovelorn sea, and smelt the two in the fires of the underworld for a thousand years.”
Bai Li casually picked the bottle up and examined it.
Zhao Rong continued, “If this is given to one’s lover, then their feelings will henceforth remain true, else they will suffer the pain of insects boring through their hearts.”
Bai Li scoffed, “And I thought it was something impressive. Turns out it’s nothing more than the petty tricks of the southern Miao people.”
Zhao Rong said seriously, “Not quite. The Miao merely plant a parasite in a person’s body. ‘Never Part’ is a seal, engraved into one’s soul. Just one bottle, and for every reincarnation hereafter, even if they are beyond the reach of the Stone of Three Lives, as long as their souls still exist, they will never be free of it.”
It was enough to give even Bai Li goosebumps all over.
Zhao Rong lowered his voice, “I’ll entrust it to you then, Demon Lord. I can’t leave the banquet for long, so I’ll leave it at that.”
Bai Li said, “Halt — what’s your purpose in giving me this?”
Zhao Rong stopped, looked at him, and smiled, “Of course… I hope that in the future, Lord Sixth might show us mercy on your behalf, Demon Lord.”
Bai Li narrowed his eyes.
Zhao Rong said, “Ordinary people like me have no way to guess what Lord Sixth is planning next. Back then, we all thought that his intent in gathering all the scattered sects, putting them in the cavalry, and combining arcane arts with martial arts, was to create an unrivaled tool of war. But now, I see that wasn’t his utmost objective. Now, I see that the purpose in forging the sects into a weapon, a division of troops, and training them to follow orders unquestioningly is so that when Gu Huaiyang rules the world, they’ll be easy to control.”
“Who knows that after mopping up the sects today, that the yao won’t be next tomorrow?” Zhao Rong said, almost to himself. He shook his head, “The way I see it, splitting up all these factions, getting rid of them one by one, cleaning up this land, so that the two sides will no longer have to struggle for supremacy, is sure to lead to a prosperous future. But what about after?”
Zhao Rong shook his head, “This has always been the way of things, uniting and dividing. The only thing that’s constant is that nothing is constant. What happens if, three hundred years later, the Amu Grasslands’ spiritual energy dries out? What happens if, three hundred years later, humans are struck by calamity and have too many mouths to feed, and the Gu family’s dynasty is breathing its last? Then, it’s certain that the treaty will be broken, and both will be in conflict once again.”
Bai Li thought these people were just too fussy, already worrying about what might happen three hundred years later.
Zhao Rong then said, “If even I understand this, then it’d be strange if Lord Sixth didn’t. He’s bound to seek some kind of balance, some form of mutual control, between humans, cultivators, and yao for his peace of mind. Right now, it seems that demons are the only key. If you make him drink this, he’ll be pulled into this karmic entablement as well. If… ‘deities’ cannot remain uninvolved, I don’t believe he’ll still have such an easy time of it.”
“Also,” Zhao Rong looked at Bai Li, his eyes frighteningly bright, “He will be yours forever.”
Bai Li startled, and Zhao Rong knew his words had taken effect. He smiled, turned, and left — he could tell that Bai Li was a lovesick fool, though Shi Wuduan might be another matter. When the time came to untie the bell from the tiger’s neck, he’d be waiting for Lord Sixth to seek him out for a way to remove the seal of “Never Part.”
That’s nasty. What an old fo- , I mean, old tiger.
Thank you for the chapter!
Don’t listen to him Bai Li 😲
Nah dont listen to him. If u use that, misery is all it awaits.
Thank u for the food!
Trickster 😈
I’m afraid 😟
I’m curious why the comments think the seal is a bad thing. If done in secret, sure, but what if SWD consents?