Consciousness floated, time and space shifted.
When Aoki opened his eyes again, he was already in the simulated world.
It was no longer the war-torn Benji City, but a serene valley lying on the buffer zone between the human and demon realms. Several simple yet tidy wooden cabins nestled against the mountain, with a barrier set all around to hide their presence.
The spiritual energy magnetic field was chaotic. Without an insider to guide the way, even a Grand Luo Golden Immortal wouldn’t be able to find this place.
This was the place where Qin Feng and the Giraffe Demon “jointly cared for” him—a symbolic, fragile land of peace.
The Giraffe Demon was carefully wiping down the tables and chairs inside the house, humming a little tune cheerfully. Strangely enough, he seemed to be rather fond of this secluded, tranquil place.
Qin Feng, meanwhile, was outside in the open yard practicing swordplay. Sword Qi crisscrossed, but he intentionally restrained the killing intent, making his movements appear balanced and calm.
In the beginning, this man and demon had gotten along awkwardly, but as time went by, they had actually become friends—or at least, it looked that way. Aoki didn’t know what they really thought inside, but that wasn’t important.
Seeing Aoki awake, both of them paused their movements and looked his way.
“Mr. Aoki, you’re awake?” The Giraffe Demon hurried forward, his tone respectful with a hint of subtle complexity.
By now, he fully understood what kind of astonishing soul was hidden in this “child” before him, as well as his significance in Lord Nongli’s eyes.
Qin Feng also sheathed his sword, stepped inside, and nodded. “How do you feel? Is your injury any better?” His tone was more familiar than before; after all, Aoki-brother had now become Aoki-uncle.
“Sigh.”
Aoki rubbed his chest, which still felt somewhat heavy. The injuries of his body in the simulated world seemed to overlap with the fatigue in reality. He nodded, his voice perfectly weak, “Much better. Thank you both for your care.”
His gaze swept over the two. This seemingly harmonious coexistence was only the calm before a greater storm.
And he—he would be the one to stir up this stagnant water.
Today seemed a bit unusual. From the early morning, Qin Feng had been restless, and the Giraffe Demon even more anxious.
Aoki vaguely understood what was about to happen, but he pretended not to know.
In the afternoon, Lin Qiyou arrived.
She was still dressed in that snow-white robe, her posture upright, her face cool and elegant. Only the teardrop mole beneath her left eye seemed more solemn than before. She came alone, without attendants, as if it were just an ordinary visit.
She placed a bottle of fine healing pills on the small table by Aoki’s couch, her movements a bit stiff. “The pill master inside the sect refined these recently; they’ll help your injuries.”
“Pill master…”
Aoki saw the jade-green bottle and let out a laugh.
Lin Qiyou remembered—centuries ago, there had also been a pill master named Aoki. She had never paid him much attention, but it was always those she least noticed that turned out to matter most.
“Did I stab you with my sword?”
She had always wanted to ask about this incident.
She had some impression of it, but never looked deeply. Only after Aoki mentioned it that one time did she realize what she had done.
“Yes.”
Aoki merely nodded. Since Lin Qiyou understood that the pill master Aoki was him, she should also know what she had done.
Lin Qiyou was silent for a long time, as if embarrassed by a mistake.
“Thank you.” Seeing that Lin Qiyou was quiet, Aoki took the pills but didn’t take them immediately. Instead, he lifted his eyes and casually asked, “How has Youjian Sect been lately? As the sect master, you must be busy. Still, you came all this way yourself.”
Given the chance to change the subject, Lin Qiyou sat down by the table, her gaze falling on the mountain range outside the window. Her tone was calm: “Not bad, just some trivial matters, nothing worth mentioning.”
“Trivial matters?” Aoki frowned slightly, showing just the right amount of concern. “Though I’ve been away from the sect for a long time, I know that a great tree catches the wind. With the Youjian Sect’s current prestige, you’re bound to attract envy. Internally…is everything stable? I’ve heard that some elders have been voicing concerns about your recent decisions?”
These weren’t baseless rumors. From Qin Feng’s occasional slip-ups and his own understanding of the sect’s power structure, he’d long surmised that Youjian Sect wasn’t as united as it appeared. Lin Qiyou was powerful, but her proud and aloof nature meant she neither excelled at nor cared for social maneuvering—factionalism within the sect was inevitable.
At these words, Lin Qiyou’s brows furrowed ever so slightly, but she quickly returned to calm: “Jumping clowns, not worth mentioning. If anyone steps out of line, I’ll cut them down with a single sword.”
Still the same as always. Aoki shook his head inwardly but sighed on the surface. “Qiyou, running a sect isn’t something that can be solved by force alone. Water can bear a boat, but it can also overturn it. If you keep pressing too hard, you may lose people’s loyalty. Sometimes, knowing what they’re thinking is more important than simply suppressing them.”
He paused, as if recalling something. “I remember…my Qi method is still with you, right?”
Lin Qiyou turned to look at Aoki, deeply. “I have it.”
With that, she took out that familiar, yellowed booklet of his.
“Thank you.” Aoki smiled faintly and said no more. The seed had been planted. He believed that with Lin Qiyou’s personality, even if she appeared dismissive on the surface, his words about “people’s hearts” and “connections” would stay with her. That was exactly what he wanted. Internal instability would drain her strength.
Aoki put away the Qi method, and the room fell into a brief silence. Lin Qiyou seemed in no rush to leave, her gaze sometimes sweeping over Aoki’s pale face, as if she wanted to speak but stopped herself.
“I’m a bit hungry,” Aoki broke the silence at the right time, propping himself up to get out of bed. “The porridge just now was pretty good. Want to try some together?”
Lin Qiyou was momentarily stunned, not expecting such an invitation. She suddenly seemed afraid, wanting to refuse, but seeing Aoki’s struggling movement, she stepped forward and, without a trace, offered her support in a soft voice: “…Alright.”
The two walked out of the cabin, the sunset casting a warm golden hue over the valley. Qin Feng had already made himself scarce, and the Giraffe Demon busied himself in the distant vegetable patch, pretending not to see them.
Aoki spoke briefly to the Giraffe Demon, who soon brought over two steaming bowls of porridge and a few sweet, fresh mountain vegetables, all packed neatly in a basket.
They went to a scenic spot further from the cabin and sat down together, the atmosphere awkward and subtly tense.
Aoki sipped his porridge in small mouthfuls, as if offhandedly mentioning, “You used to always pester me for a match when we were young, but I don’t think you ever won.”
The memory was like a sharp blade, cutting through the coldness on Lin Qiyou’s face. Her hand paused slightly as she held the spoon, nostalgia flashing across her features. She lowered her head, looking at the gleaming white rice porridge in her bowl, her voice so light it was almost a breeze: “…Nonsense. I won the last time…”
After a long pause, she added, “Though, it wasn’t really a win.”
“Is that so?” Aoki smiled, a trace of nostalgia in his voice.
Lin Qiyou didn’t argue, simply drank her porridge in silence. The sunset outlined her flawless profile, the teardrop mole beneath her eye especially clear in the glow. After a while, she spoke, voice as faint as a dream: “A hundred years ago, I had a dream.”
“Oh?” Aoki looked up, slightly intrigued.
Lin Qiyou’s gaze grew distant, as if lost in that illusory dreamscape. “In the dream, there was no Youjian Sect, no cultivation, none…of those conflicts. It seemed like we were in a perfectly ordinary small town, living together in a courtyard.” Her voice trailed lower, carrying a confusion and yearning even she didn’t notice.
“I…I saved you. Mm…We were…a married couple…” She paused, as if struggling to recall the details, but the faint flush on her pale earlobes betrayed her pure embarrassment.
Aoki’s hand holding the spoon hovered midair. He seemed to remember…something…
Back when she stabbed him in the north of Benji City, he seemed to have heard Lin Qiyou mumbling about a dream, and then she stabbed him.
He teased with a hint of mischief, “And then? In the dream, I didn’t get stabbed clear through by you?”
The joke was barbed, instantly yanking Lin Qiyou out of that warm, hazy dream and back into cold reality. Her body stiffened slightly, the air thick with awkwardness.
“You’re still angry…I know, from a long time ago, I never really took a stand on the spirit vein matter.”
Lin Qiyou sighed, her eyes full of grievance and unwillingness. “I don’t think I was wrong. I just ended up doing something bad, hurting you, but hurting you is still a fact…I’m sorry, I don’t even know how to apologize anymore, it’s been so long, far too long.”
She reached up, brushing her hair. “I’ve always, always been searching for a way to bring you back…Maybe at first it was just a foolish dream.
Just surviving was hard enough for me. I was hunted by my father, wanted by my family.
When I resolved those things and took on the name of parricide, I started building Youjian Sect… I want to say, the founding of Youjian Sect was also for you.
I could find Benji’s way to resurrect you only because of Youjian Sect’s efforts.
I gave up everything. I betrayed my sect and my clan…”
Lin Qiyou hugged her head, her body trembling. “Even now, I can’t remember all the details clearly…I’m very afraid.
I always told Qin Shuang that cultivators should stop at nothing, but I feel like I’m lost myself.
Aoki…”
Suddenly, Lin Qiyou turned and crawled over to Aoki’s side, gently embracing him.
Aoki froze, bowl in hand, holding it up high, afraid Lin Qiyou would spill the porridge.
Her fragrance was familiar, pulling his thoughts far, far into the past.
For him, those memories were already hard to grasp—how much more so for Lin Qiyou?
Just as the awkward and tense atmosphere seemed about to solidify, a voice, distinctly displeased and tinged with jealousy, abruptly cut in:
“Oh? What interesting things are you talking about? Shouldn’t you let Nongli hear as well?”