TMWTGD CH52

Before departing, Xie Jianwei met with the little skeleton.

The little skeleton remained just as obedient and sensible as ever, practically bubbling with joy the moment he saw Xie Jianwei approaching.

A single glance at the little skeleton was enough to make Xie Jianwei’s heart melt completely.

Truth be told, this dream world was quite intriguing.

The little skeleton resembled the young Lu Li back on the barren planet, relying on him, trusting him, and loving him with his whole heart.

Li Fu’er, on the other hand, was the Lu Li who had ascended to the rank of Marshal after countless campaigns across the battlefields, wielding supreme power and draped in glory, yet still harboring only one person in his heart.

Regardless of which era his lover belonged to, he was still his lover.

Although an unexpected twist had caused both to appear at the same time, to Xie Jianwei, they were both Lu Li.

The little skeleton asked him, “Are you going out?”

Xie Jianwei said, “I might be away for a bit longer this time. Will you wait for me in the Intermediate Realm?”

The little skeleton asked, “Can’t I come with you?”

Xie Jianwei shook his head gently. “I am sorry.”

The little skeleton said dejectedly, “It’s alright…”

Xie Jianwei took his skeletal hand and rubbed it gently against his cheek. “Wait for me.”

The little skeleton nodded. “Okay.”

Xie Jianwei then went to find Loren.

Loren was currently preparing for his upcoming colorful nightlife.

Seeing Xie Jianwei appear by his doorway, he was rather surprised. “What’s this? Want to go fooling around with ge? Don’t want your little skeleton anymore?”

Xie Jianwei got straight to the point. “I need to go away for a while.”

“Go ahead then,” Loren replied without thinking much of it. “A mission in the Mortal Realm?”

Xie Jianwei stared at him and said, “It might take quite a long time.”

Only then did Loren pay attention. “Is it tricky? Need help?”

“There is indeed a favor I would like to ask of you.”

“Why be so polite with me? Just say it.”

Xie Jianwei said, “While I am away, I hope you can take good care of the little skeleton for me.”

Loren asked with some surprise, “You aren’t taking him with you?”

Xie Jianwei nodded.

Loren was sharp after all. His expression turned solemn. “You aren’t heading to the Demon Realm, are you?”

Xie Jianwei knew he couldn’t keep it hidden, so he admitted, “Yes. The little skeleton needs a physical body, so I must make contact with an Archdemon.”

Loren looked at him suspiciously. “Li Fu’er?”

Lowering his gaze, Xie Jianwei replied, “Not him.”

Recalling what had happened in the past, Loren felt deeply uneasy. “I should come with you!”

“Listen to me.” Xie Jianwei looked at him with utmost seriousness. “I have no one else I can entrust this to. I won’t be in danger, but I cannot leave him unattended.”

Loren examined him carefully…

Xie Jianwei said, “This is my request. I hope you can look after him and not let him know where I went or what I am doing. I will return as quickly as possible.”

Loren said, torn with hesitation, “Just what… are you…”

“Trust me,” Xie Jianwei said. “I leave the little skeleton in your hands.”

With him making such a solemn plea, what else could Loren say?

“If something happens to you, I won’t care about keeping secrets anymore.”

“Understood. Rest assured, six months at most.”

Hearing that timeframe, Loren breathed a sigh of relief.

Six months might seem long to humans, but to a Grim Reaper, it was hardly worth mentioning. Some lazy, shut-in reapers would enter seclusion for decades over the slightest whim.

Xie Jianwei made thorough preparations before setting off for the Demon Realm.

The Night of the Sky Curtain was not a fixed date, but a natural phenomenon in the Demon Realm.

When humanity’s resentment accumulated to a certain threshold, this night, which was equivalent to a grand carnival for demons, would descend.

The rate at which human hatred accumulated was irregular. It happened more frequently during wars or catastrophes, while in peaceful times it naturally slowed down.

Back when Li Fu’er was in the Heavenly Realm, the Night of the Sky Curtain descended only once every few decades. Naturally, after he fully adapted to his identity as a demon, the rhythm of these nights grew chaotic.

If Lu Li went to stir up trouble in the Mortal Realm, the Night of the Sky Curtain would arrive sooner.

If he refrained from meddling there, it would be relatively delayed.

It was precisely because of this that Xie Jianwei had the chance to catch one.

The Demon Realm possessed specific methods of measurement. Once human resentment reached capacity, the Night of the Sky Curtain was guaranteed to descend.

Disguising himself as an incubus once again, Xie Jianwei reached the Demon Realm before nightfall.

Since it was a night of wild revelry, slipping inside was relatively effortless. He stayed tucked away in a corner as usual, secretly gazing at Lu Li.

Lu Li detected his gaze almost immediately. His brow furrowed in irritation.

He could not explain what had come over him.

It was merely an incubus, yet because the creature’s inadvertent expressions bore a subtle resemblance to Xie Jianwei, it troubled his peace of mind.

He could not stop thinking that even an incubus could harbor such enduring affection, so why was Xie Jianwei…

Thinking of this, a scorching ache flared in Lu Li’s chest, suffocating his heart with pain.

He did not want to see that incubus again, nor did he want the creature watching him.

He knew the agony of unrequited yearning all too well, so he refused to feed him any false hope.

Lu Li stepped down the dais, striding with clear purpose toward Xie Jianwei.

Xie Jianwei also needed physical contact. The pain-transfer spell had an absolute prerequisite: he had to touch the target, or the incantation could not take effect.

As Lu Li approached, Xie Jianwei offered a polite bow.

Lu Li waved his hand dismissively. “Follow me outside.”

Xie Jianwei was somewhat surprised and quietly delighted. Although he tried his best to conceal his emotions, far too much still seeped through.

Lu Li looked away and strode ahead.

Exiting the banquet hall, the sky outside was gradually veiled in dense, inky darkness.

Lu Li got straight to the point. “Do not appear before me ever again.”

Xie Jianwei froze.

Lu Li said, “I know what you desire, but I cannot give it to you.”

At those words, Xie Jianwei shook his head repeatedly. “You do not need to give me anything. I just… I just…”

“Yet it annoys me,” Lu Li’s tone could hardly be called pleasant.

Xie Jianwei looked up at him, deep purple eyes filled with hesitation and unease. “I… I am sorry.”

“It has nothing to do with you; it is my own problem.” Lu Li paused, meeting his gaze after all. “Leave it at that. Forget about me as soon as possible!”

Having said that, he shifted his eyes away swiftly.

Xie Jianwei let out a faint smile, tenderness spilling freely from his features. “Your Excellency is truly gentle.”

Lu Li felt as if he had heard a ridiculous joke, preparing to say something harsh to extinguish this little incubus’s hopes once and for all. Then he caught sight of that smile.

Soft and lingering, brimming with deep affection, it was like unwrapped candy exuding an irresistible sweetness.

Lu Li stared unblinkingly. In a daze, he felt transported back to those most cherished days.

He had almost forgotten what kind of gaze Xie Jianwei used to look at him with.

When that sword pierced his heart back then, the Xie Jianwei who looked at him with devotion became nothing more than flowers in a mirror or the moon on the water.

Hollow and ephemeral, visible yet forever out of reach.

Because his mind was saturated with the agony and despair he had endured, he could no longer believe in the initial beauty.

After all, such beauty was nothing but endless torment to the current Li Fu’er.

Lu Li closed his eyes and said, “You are reading too much into it. I…” Before he could finish, a sudden wave of excruciating pain struck him without warning. The sensation of his bones fracturing made him stagger.

The little incubus caught him in an instant, asking anxiously, “Your Excellency? Are you alright?”

Oddly enough, the moment the little incubus touched him, a surge of warmth washed over his entire body, and that horrifying pain vanished into thin air.

The pain-transfer spell had succeeded, though Lu Li naturally remained unaware.

Confusion flickered across his face. “It is nothing.”

“That is good.” The incubus pulled back his supporting hands swiftly. Lu Li wondered if it was an illusion, but in that very instant, the little incubus beside him turned pale as paper.

“You…” Lu Li looked at him and asked, “Are you unwell?”

The incubus shook his head, his voice dropping very low. “I am merely a bit sad, because… I will never be able to watch Your Excellency again.”

Lu Li was rendered speechless.

The incubus seemed to catch his breath softly, his voice dropping even quieter as he spoke again. “In that case… I shall not disturb you further.”

With that, he turned and walked away.

In complete darkness, the Archdemon still possessed superb night vision.

He could see the incubus walking away slowly, noting his straight back, slender legs, and…

Lu Li’s pupils contracted sharply.

Sweat stains?

He stared at the ground in surprise.

What was going on? Why was this incubus sweating so profusely?

Lu Li wanted to call after him and ask, but the words withered on his lips.

Never mind. Even if the creature was unwell, it was better not to pry.

What he needed to do was draw a clear boundary and extinguish any lingering attachment. That was the right thing to do.

Heaven only knew how Xie Jianwei managed to walk away.

This bone-corroding agony was far more visceral than anticipated. How was this merely corroding bone? It felt as though every single bone were being snapped in half and jammed violently into his flesh, provoking every nerve into shrill shrieks of anguish.

It hurt so much his brain felt ready to explode.

Yan Ke asked with immense worry, “My Lord, are you alright?”

The moment he saw Lu Li depart, Xie Jianwei could take no further steps. Slumping against the wall, he gasped for breath. “It’s fine.”

Fortunately, the little skeleton was unaware, or this dream world would have collapsed on the spot.

Yan Ke was frantic. “You have to endure this raw pain all night long.” The mere thought was terrifying.

Xie Jianwei fell silent. Closing his eyes, he strove to regulate his breathing.

When pain was inevitable, one had to adapt to it.

Matching his breathing rhythm to the overwhelming waves of agony provided a fleeting numbing effect on his nerves.

The night was long, and he could only take it one second at a time.

Returning to the banquet hall, Lu Li remained deeply unsettled.

He experienced this feeling whenever the Night of the Sky Curtain approached, but today it was exceptionally pronounced.

It was as if something was happening beyond his knowledge.

Something of vital importance that he should not be ignorant of, yet remained completely in the dark about.

As the restlessness in his chest mounted, countless scenes flashed through his mind.

There was Xie Jianwei smiling as he leaned in his arms, Xie Jianwei embracing and kissing that human, and finally, that cold Xie Jianwei whose eyes burned with hatred as he drove a blade through his heart…

In the end, he unexpectedly thought of that incubus.

The incubus whose smile resembled Xie Jianwei so closely.

Lu Li tilted his head back and downed a cup of wine. The burning alcohol scorched his throat, yet failed to snuff out the agitation in his chest.

Amidst his chaotic thoughts, one struck him as especially absurd.

He was actually entertaining the delusion that the incubus was Xie Jianwei.

How could that be possible? Why would Xie Jianwei ever set foot in the Demon Realm? Xie Jianwei had loathed him to the bone long ago, all because Lu Li had killed the mortal he loved.

With a sharp crack, the wine cup was crushed into shards in his grip.

Standing beside him, Yan Ke asked, “My Lord?”

Snapping back to his senses, Lu Li murmured, “It is nothing.”

Having served him for years, Yan Ke knew his mood turned foul whenever the Night of the Sky Curtain arrived.

He suggested, “Would My Lord like to step outside for a walk?” The banquet hall was rather noisy.

The clamor was indeed grating on Lu Li’s nerves. He stood up and said, “Very well. I will step out for some fresh air.”

Walking out of the great hall, he initially intended to stroll along the Ink Lake. Yet his feet seemed to possess a will of their own, leading him inexorably back to where he had parted ways with the incubus.

The sweat stains on the ground had vanished long ago, yet in his daze, Lu Li felt he could still see them.

He understood his own heart and knew precisely what he was yearning for.

He simply refused to give up, craving like a madman that one-in-a-billion miracle.

What if… what if that incubus truly was Xie Jianwei?

Impossible, utterly impossible.

Yet repeated denials failed to banish the idea. Instead, it burned fiercer, driving him mad with the urge to verify it.

Just a quick look, Lu Li told himself, attempting to construct a sensible excuse. The little incubus looked unwell after all, so checking in to see if he required assistance was only natural.

With that thought, Lu Li finally set off.

Before walking far, he caught a brief groan.

It was a suppressed moan of agonizing pain, slipping out despite desperate attempts to stifle it.

Lu Li’s heart lurched. Quickening his pace, he rounded a corner and saw the man curled against the wall.

Drenched from head to toe in cold sweat, strands of fine black hair clung to his pale cheeks. His near-translucent lips trembled faintly, lending a sickly, fragile beauty to his already captivating countenance.

Clenching his fists, Lu Li leaned down toward him. “What happened to you?”

At the sound of his voice, Xie Jianwei jerked his head up. His eyes flooded with panic as he tried to speak, yet his tormented body could manage nothing more than ragged pants.

Lu Li reached out to touch him. “Where does it hurt?” While incubi lacked an Archdemon’s immense regenerative powers, being demons granted them sturdy constitutions, rendering ordinary sickness inconsequential.

As Lu Li’s hand drew near, Xie Jianwei recoiled slightly, offering a futile struggle with his paralyzed frame.

Lu Li’s fingers trembled faintly. He spoke softly, “Do not worry. I know some healing arts and can assist you…”

Xie Jianwei shook his head vigorously. Unable to speak or move, shaking his head was his sole means of refusal.

Lu Li paused. “What in the world is wrong with you?”

Xie Jianwei gazed up at Lu Li, his eyes brimming with desperate pleading. His frantic desire to avoid touch was plain for anyone to see.

Yet that only fueled Lu Li’s urge to touch him.

His heart pounded frantically, the thumping echoing in his ears. That absurd suspicion flared up once more. He had gone mad, driven insane by longing for Xie Jianwei, delusional enough to believe he was right here.

Yet what reason did he have to be here? What reason did he have to disguise himself as an incubus and appear before him? What reason could compel him to watch him in secret for hundreds of years?

He had to confirm it.

All it took was touching him and sending demonic power coursing through his frame; every illusion would shatter instantly.

It did not matter anymore. Things could not get any worse than they already were.

He might as well try.

Lu Li had likely never been so anxious in his entire existence. His fingers trembled uncontrollably, like a condemned man awaiting his verdict: seeing no path to survival, yet yearning desperately for life.

His fingertips finally made contact. Steeling his resolve, Lu Li unleashed the power within his core, channeling it straight into the defenseless incubus.

In an instant, the disguise collapsed like a crumbling sandcastle.

The raven-black hair transformed into brilliant silver, and the sultry facial features refined into breathtaking elegance.

Lu Li was at a complete loss for words.

Xie Jianwei.

It was truly Xie Jianwei.

How could an event with only a one-in-a-billion chance unfold right before his eyes?

With his disguise stripped away, Xie Jianwei seemed utterly unable to hold on any longer, his body slumping sideways into unconsciousness.

Lu Li caught him in a hurry. As that warm, familiar body fell into his embrace, an indescribable tremor seized Lu Li’s soul.

It was just like that distant encounter in the Heavenly Realm when he first laid eyes upon him.

A single glance, falling for a lifetime.

From that moment on, he was bound by a curse: a curse named Xie Jianwei.

Lu Li sat in a daze, cradling him through the long night.

There were countless things he could not fathom, yet his mind went completely blank.

He could see only the person in his arms, staring without so much as blinking.

He could remember nothing, contemplate nothing.

Hatred, resentment, and the despair of betrayal vanished without a trace.

Holding him, it felt as though he possessed the entire universe.

The next morning, Xie Jianwei woke in a daze. The agony of the previous night seemed still etched into his flesh; a mere flicker of memory sent tremors through his nerves.

“Ngh…” Xie Jianwei let out a pained groan.

The arms holding him tightened abruptly.

Xie Jianwei looked up, their gazes meeting in the cool morning air.

Panicking, Xie Jianwei struggled to get up.

Yet Lu Li held him firmly in his clasp, denying him any chance of escape.

Xie Jianwei stammered, “L-Let me go.”

Lu Li asked in a hoarse voice, “Just what is going on here?”

Xie Jianwei avoided his eyes, refusing to speak.

Lu Li demanded, “Why did you disguise yourself as an incubus? Why come to the Demon Realm? Why have you been watching me in secret all this time?”

“I didn’t,” Xie Jianwei lowered his head, protesting hurriedly.

Lu Li leaned close to him, his crimson eyes reflecting nothing but his image. “Do you have any idea how desperately I dreamed of seizing you and keeping you by my side?”

Xie Jianwei’s body stiffened abruptly.

Lu Li’s breath brushed against his ear. “Why did you walk right into my trap?”

It was phrased as a question, yet delivered with a profound sigh.

Xie Jianwei suddenly lifted his head. They stood so close that the slightest movement would bring their lips together.

Lu Li stared at him without blinking, but his eyes soon widened in shock.

Xie Jianwei kissed him, pressing his lips against his in an awkward, clumsy, and disordered rush.

A loud buzz rang through Lu Li’s head. Cupping the back of his head, he invaded his mouth.

Masterful kissing technique could hardly be displayed when one’s mind was in utter turmoil. Yet because of the deep love rooted in their hearts, no matter how rough, messy, or clumsy the kiss was, it became the most exquisite thing in existence.

It was as breathtaking as fireworks lighting up the horizon, dazzling the senses.

Fortunately, Lu Li retained a shred of reason, not taking him out in broad daylight.

Even so, he barely managed to bring him inside. The instant the door clicked shut, Lu Li pinned him against it.

Xie Jianwei urged breathlessly, “Come in, just push straight in.”

Lu Li satisfied him completely.

Both let out a simultaneous sigh.

It definitely hurt. Xie Jianwei felt the ache, and Lu Li hurt from how tightly he was held.

Yet what did that matter?

Aside from this frenzied lovemaking, what else could possibly sate a soul that had remained hollow for hundreds of years?

Lu Li thought of nothing, asked nothing, and held nothing against him anymore.

Xie Jianwei was in his arms, beneath his body, within his immediate reach.

Just this alone brought immense contentment.

Don’t run away again.

Whether you love me or not doesn’t matter, just please don’t leave ever again.

Only this single thought remained in Lu Li’s mind.

For a full day and night, they tangled together desperately like wild beasts stripped of reason.

Lu Li did not speak, and Xie Jianwei did not beg for mercy either. He would only murmur softly whenever he was pushed to the absolute brink, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.”

Lu Li could hear him, yet he had no idea what he was apologizing for.

For falling in love with someone else? For that final thrust of the sword?

Or perhaps he wasn’t apologizing to him at all?

He didn’t dare overthink, nor was he willing to do so.

The more he dwelled on it, the more sorrowful he felt. He would rather shut everything out and focus solely on the present.

In the end, Xie Jianwei could endure no longer, fainting amidst wave after wave of climaxes.

Lu Li came to a halt. He hadn’t reached his release yet, but he couldn’t bear to torment him any further.

He held him, sitting motionless through the entire night.

Whenever Xie Jianwei woke up, Lu Li would kiss him again.

It was as though the two were cut off from the rest of the universe, entirely lost in this realm where time, location, and the future ceased to matter, holding only one another.

Yet Lu Li could not remain cooped up in the room forever.

After an unknown number of days, knocking came from outside the door.

Lu Li snapped awake.

Yan Ke’s voice drifted through, “Your Excellency, are you alright?”

Lu Li finally set Xie Jianwei down, got up, and stepped out of the room.

Xie Jianwei had also spent these past few days in a daze.

The bone-gnawing agony had barely passed when, to strike while the iron was hot, he indulged Lu Li day and night in reckless passion. Even with a Grim Reaper’s sturdy constitution, this was wearing him down.

Yet he had no choice; it was the only way.

What happened back then could never be cleared up with simple words.

Furthermore, since the “Xie Jianwei” of this world had kept silent for hundreds of years, the current Xie Jianwei had to hold his tongue for the time being as well.

Xie Jianwei understood why that “Xie Jianwei” had chosen silence.

There were likely several factors at play. First was the stabbing itself. Whatever the reason, Xie Jianwei had done the deed, nearly killing Li Fu’er. Second, it was probably tied to Lu Li’s rebirth as a demon.

Using the life of his beloved as a catalyst, burning his own lifespan frantically for hundreds of years, how much longer could Xie Jianwei hold out?

If he couldn’t last much longer, telling Lu Li the truth would only result in a tragedy anyway.

Rather than having Lu Li watch him die while consumed by love, it was better to turn that love into hatred.

When a lover dies, one loses the will to keep living.

When an enemy dies, a burden is lifted, allowing one to live more easily.

That was how the original “Xie Jianwei” reasoned, but the real Xie Jianwei saw things differently.

During the life-and-death battle against the Hundred-Limbed race, Xie Jianwei had told Lu Li, “If we live, we live together; if we die, we die together.”

When Lu Li wanted to shoulder it alone, Xie Jianwei cut off his retreat completely, “If you die, I will never live on alone.” Saying this, he had added softly, “If I die, please be sure to come keep me company as well.”

Living and dying together was the very source of power that made Lu Li invincible.

What Lu Li wanted was never what that “Xie Jianwei” envisioned, sacrificing himself so his lover could live on.

What Lu Li truly desired was what Xie Jianwei had spoken of: fight to survive together if possible, and if death came, share the same ashes, leaving no room for lingering sorrow.

Death was not terrifying. What was truly horrifying was watching one’s lover sacrifice everything in secret while remaining completely oblivious.

How could Xie Jianwei ever bear to let that happen?

Of course, neither of them would die, whether in reality or in this dream.

Xie Jianwei rested only briefly before Lu Li returned.

He had sent Yan Ke to investigate certain matters. The reason he didn’t go in person was that Lu Li was perpetually terrified that the moment he turned his back, Xie Jianwei would vanish.

Although he still didn’t know why Xie Jianwei had appeared here, Lu Li would never let this opportunity slip away.

When he walked back inside, Xie Jianwei happened to wake up. Despite having engaged in countless acts of raw intimacy, they now had no idea what to say to each other.

Lu Li asked, “Do you want something to eat?”

Xie Jianwei shook his head.

Lu Li fell silent as well.

After a while, Xie Jianwei said, “If you have things to attend to, you can…”

Before he could finish, Lu Li scoffed coldly, “Wanting to leave already?”

Xie Jianwei gripped the bedsheets, murmuring, “No.”

Seeing his blanched knuckles, Lu Li felt sharp stabs of pain in his chest. He knew he was weak-willed, but never realized he could be pathetic to this extent.

If Xie Jianwei wept and begged him, he might genuinely let him go.

He couldn’t bear it; even after everything Xie Jianwei had done, he still couldn’t bear to see him suffer.

Truly hopeless.

Thinking of this side of himself made Lu Li irritable, and his words turned harsh, “Don’t even dream of going anywhere. Stay right here obediently.”

Xie Jianwei said gently, “I won’t leave, but you don’t have to keep watch here constantly.”

“Do you think I still believe anything you say?”

Pursing his thin lips, Xie Jianwei said slowly, “You need to replenish your strength, right?”

Without hunting souls, an Archdemon would starve to death.

Lu Li said, “Don’t worry, I will take you along. With a Grim Reaper’s help, what kind of soul wouldn’t be easy picking?”

Xie Jianwei shook his head. “Doing that will draw the attention of the Intermediate Realm.”

Did Lu Li not understand what he meant? It was just that…

Xie Jianwei repeated, “You can lock this room. I really won’t leave.”

“What kind of room could possibly contain a six-star Grim Reaper like you?” Right as the words left his mouth, Lu Li’s eyes lit up abruptly.

Xie Jianwei breathed an inward sigh of relief. You finally caught the point, my Big Li. His hints had been practically spelled out.

Lu Li stood up abruptly, striding out without a word to find Yan Ke.

When he returned, he was holding a cord in his hand.

Xie Jianwei had tasted the agony of this binding cord before. Once bound by it, one lost all magical power.

“No, you can’t bind me with that!” Xie Jianwei cried out anxiously.

Lu Li’s expression darkened. “What? You really do want to escape after all?”

“That’s not it.” Xie Jianwei was genuinely frantic, pleading, “Trust me, Li Fu’er, I really won’t leave, I…”

Lu Li said coldly, “I don’t trust you.”

As soon as the words fell, the cord had already wrapped around Xie Jianwei.

Once bound, even if the cord was untied later, all his power remained sealed.

Without power, spells could not be cast.

The spell that absorbed another’s pain required energy to activate as well.

And now, he couldn’t use it.

Xie Jianwei sat in a daze. Lu Li couldn’t bear to see him like this, and fearing that his heart would soften, he simply turned and left the room.

Yan Ke breathed a sigh of relief. “Awesome, half the battle is won!”

Exhausted, Xie Jianwei lay face-up on the bed.

Seeing that he was in good spirits, Yan Ke became chattier. “Now we just wait for the Night of the Sky Curtain to arrive.”

Out of nowhere, Xie Jianwei remarked, “What should I do?”

Yan Ke asked, “Huh?”

Xie Jianwei couldn’t help curving the corners of his mouth. “Lu Li is just too cute.”

Yan Ke was speechless.

“I didn’t dare act too pitiful, genuinely afraid that his heart would soften and he’d send me right back to the Intermediate Realm.” As he said this, Xie Jianwei’s eyes curved into crescents.

Yan Ke had zero time to duck the incoming wave of dog food.

Hey, don’t do this! You two are supposed to be in a tragic, angst-filled melodrama! What is this sweetness doing here? Take this seriously!

Military Advisor Xie felt sweetness bubbling inside his heart, his mind entirely filled with Lu Li. He truly wished he could step out of the dream right now and give the real Big Li a hearty kiss.

To have a lover who loved him this deeply, a lifetime was more than complete.

The Night of the Sky Curtain arrived much sooner than Xie Jianwei had anticipated.

Perhaps the mysterious “God’s will” was calling out to him, causing a moderate catastrophe to occur in the mortal world. Well, apologies to the human extras out there.

In any case, human resentment accumulated extraordinarily quickly this time, and the Night of the Sky Curtain was right around the corner.

Xie Jianwei naturally acted very “anxious,” spending several days pacing like an ant on a hot pan, unable to sit or stand still.

Lu Li noticed this of course. He assumed Xie Jianwei could finally stand being confined no longer and wanted to leave. The thought irritated him, and fearing he would grow soft-hearted, he cut down the frequency of his visits.

Yet if he didn’t see Xie Jianwei, he felt utterly restless. While telling himself not to go back, his feet carried him into the room on their own accord anyway.

Lu Li was rendered speechless at himself.

Seeing him return, Xie Jianwei hurried forward to greet him, his eyes filled with coaxing warmth.

Lu Li stated bluntly, “I will not restore your power.”

Xie Jianwei said anxiously, “Just for one day, is one day alright? Just restore my power when the Night of the Sky Curtain arrives.”

Lu Li looked at him with suspicion. “What do you want to do?”

Xie Jianwei couldn’t say the truth, only insisting stubbornly, “Once the Night of the Sky Curtain passes, I will bind myself with the cord. Truly, just one day, one day is all I ask.”

A memory flashed through Lu Li’s mind, recalling Xie Jianwei shivering violently in agony during the previous Night of the Sky Curtain.

Lu Li asked him, “Is there somewhere you feel unwell?” Although Xie Jianwei had been in immense pain back then, once that day passed, he was completely fine. Lu Li had examined him thoroughly, yet could find nothing wrong.

Xie Jianwei said, “It’s nothing. I just… on that day… um…” He couldn’t concoct a suitable excuse.

Lu Li didn’t believe him, unable to stop his thoughts from spiraling into worst-case scenarios.

The more he dwelled on it, the more uneasy he grew, and the less willing he was to restore his power.

Lu Li said, “Not even for a single day. Forget about it.”

Xie Jianwei parted his lips, his expression betraying anxiety he could not hide.

The resentment reached its critical threshold; tonight was the Night of the Sky Curtain.

Xie Jianwei grew even more frantic, pacing back and forth in the room the entire day, nervous and panicked, looking utterly distracted and beside himself.

Although Lu Li hadn’t entered the room, he kept close watch over him.

Seeing him this anxious only heightened his suspicions.

Yan Ke was beside him, and Lu Li asked offhandedly, “Does the Night of the Sky Curtain affect Grim Reapers?”

Yan Ke said, “It shouldn’t. In past years, Reapers have visited the Demon Realm for leisure on this day.”

Lu Li watched Xie Jianwei, murmuring, “Then why does he insist on having his power restored on this exact day?”

Yan Ke shook his head; he had no idea either.

Lu Li pondered for a moment before asking again, “Can the Night of the Sky Curtain… cause someone pain?”

He mentioned it casually, but a lesser demon standing near Yan Ke whispered, “…There really are people who despise the Night of the Sky Curtain.”

Lu Li looked toward him. “The Celestials?”

The lesser demon quickly bowed to Lu Li, adding, “Not the Celestials, but demons.”

“Oh?” Lu Li’s interest was piqued. “What do you mean? Explain.”

The lesser demon explained eagerly, “Has My Lord heard of non-native demons? Those who transformed from humans into demons.”

Lu Li had vaguely heard of this, but wasn’t well-versed in it. “I heard they became demons through some forbidden art?”

The lesser demon said, “Yes! Non-native demons detest the Night of the Sky Curtain. Rumor has it that this is their punishment. Because they were people who bore grave sins during their time as mortals, on this day they are attacked by humanity’s resentment, enduring bone-corroding agony.”

Bone-corroding…

Lu Li suddenly recalled the intense pain he felt when the previous Night of the Sky Curtain arrived, as if every bone in his body was coming apart.

Yet the pain had vanished almost immediately.

Why did it disappear?

Because… Lu Li rose to his feet in shock. Because Xie Jianwei, disguised as an incubus, had touched him!

Lu Li remembered the incubus’s paper-pale face in that instant, drenched in sweat.

Pain transference.

He had heard Xie Jianwei mention this spell once before.

That was very long ago, when they spent days and nights together and talked about everything under the sun.

Xie Jianwei had remarked half-jokingly, “I suppose I am the only one left who can cast this pain transference spell.”

Lu Li had teased him back then, “Teach me! If you ever get injured, I can take it for you.”

Xie Jianwei had merely smiled and shaken his head.

Lu Li had whispered against his ear, “Aren’t you the one most afraid of pain? You shiver even when I give you a tiny bite.”

To the very end, Xie Jianwei had never taught him that spell.