Shang Si sank into a peculiar sensation, her heart pounding in her chest with a rhythm that stirred feelings she hadn’t known in the thousands of years since her birth.
It had nothing to do with the flow of spiritual energy or the perils of cultivation deviation. The feeling simply arose on its own, the moment Lu Shiyuan slipped her hand into Shang Si’s palm and their eyes met.
“A Si?” The woman’s gentle call by her ear pulled Shang Si back from her daze.
Shang Si’s fingertips curled slightly, her beautiful ink-black pupils reflecting Lu Shiyuan’s face.
“What’s wrong? Is your injury flaring up?” Lu Shiyuan wrinkled her nose and pressed, seeing that Shang Si remained silent.
After all, Shang Si had been gently pressing her chest for some time now, showing no sign of further movement or any intention to speak. Lu Shiyuan naturally assumed it was her old wound acting up, causing discomfort in her heart.
“No, I just sorted some things out.” Shang Si lowered her hand, a faint smile touching her lips.
She glanced down at their clasped hands. The gloom that had lingered in her heart all night suddenly lifted, leaving her mind clear and bright. Yet she didn’t forget why they had come: “Take one of the Life-Prolonging Pills Hua Qiu left you earlier and give it to me. I’ll use it to save that Nightingale Demon’s life.”
As the Lord of Yedu, Shang Si rarely carried healing or life-preserving pills like that.
It wasn’t that she lacked them—her cultivation was such that few in the Three Realms could stand against her, so she had little need for such things.
Lu Shiyuan was different. She was a walking apothecary, stocked not only with the vast array of top-grade spiritual medicines Hua Qiu had given her before she left Yedu, but also with whatever Shang Si had gathered and tossed her way over the past three years.
Shang Si hadn’t even needed to ask. Precious as Life-Prolonging Pills were, she knew Lu Shiyuan would have them—and wouldn’t hesitate to hand one over.
Sure enough, the moment Shang Si mentioned it, Lu Shiyuan retrieved one from her Spirit Ring without a second thought and placed it in her hand.
The casual generosity of it—giving away a Life-Prolonging Pill without so much as blinking—made Yun Feng, watching from the side, ache inwardly.
To waste something so precious on a dying Nightingale Demon? He couldn’t wrap his head around it.
“Why would a Nightingale Demon show up here?” Lu Shiyuan asked slowly after handing over the pill. “The Nightingale Clan may be minor demons, but they flock together and prefer warm, leafy places like Jiangnan. This is far north, right by Kunlun Sect. Even migration wouldn’t bring them this far.”
“To tell you benefactors the truth, Qing Fu and I fled here all the way from the south,” the female demon replied. She turned to glance at her lover, whose breathing had steadied, and wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. “If our clan hadn’t been wiped out so suddenly, we never would have risked fleeing north in our wounded state. We stole the village poultry only to stay alive.”
“Clan extermination?” The three spoke in unison, their shock plain.
“Aren’t Nightingales the gentlest of demons? They avoid conflict—how could they face extermination?” Yun Feng muttered. Sent down the mountain to catch a demon, he’d never imagined such a story behind it.
Shang Si and Lu Shiyuan said nothing, but the flicker of surprise in their eyes betrayed their own astonishment.
Nightingale Demons were a small clan in the Demon Realm, weak in strength but mild-mannered and friendly toward humans. Every one of them was born with a beautiful voice, making them one of the few demon breeds humans didn’t revile.
Even in the capital’s pleasure houses, right under the emperor’s nose, transformed Nightingale Demons performed as top songstresses.
Far from harming people, they had to watch out for being hunted themselves—low in cultivation, blessed with fine looks and voices, they often caught the eye of Human Realm nobles seeking exotic pets.
Yet a race that never crossed paths with humans had been butchered overnight. No whisper of it had reached the great sects, not even Yedu under Shang Si’s rule.
Probe any deeper, and ugly secrets were bound to surface.
The night deepened as they lingered in the ruined temple, pressing the female demon for more details on her clan’s tragedy. Before they knew it, the eastern sky began to pale with the light of dawn.
“Your lover’s life is no longer in danger, but her wounds are grave. She’ll need time to recover in peace. You can stay here in the temple with her for now—just leave the villagers alone.” With their questions answered, Shang Si had no desire to linger.
She looked toward the female demon a short distance away. The woman stepped forward and bowed deeply once more. “Yes, this humble one will heed the benefactors’ words.”
The three stepped out of the ruined temple into the breaking dawn.
The warm golden light of dawn pierced the thin mist, sprinkling across the shoulders of the trio. Yun Feng had somehow fallen a step behind the other two.
He gazed at Lu Shiyuan’s figure ahead. She was the object of his affections, yet oddly enough, he found an inexplicable harmony in the sight of her standing alongside Shang Si.
“Ye Lord, may I ask you a question?” Yun Feng called out, halting the pair walking side by side.
Shang Si turned, instinctively flicking a glance at Lu Shiyuan before slowly shifting her gaze to Yun Feng.
“What is it?” Her voice was cool, like frost in the morning mist.
She saw no reason to chat with this young prodigy of the Kunlun Sect. In her eyes, Yun Feng was not only of a junior generation but also lagged far behind her in cultivation by several realms. As for the little crush he harbored… it was utterly beneath notice.
With her around, Shang Si didn’t believe Lu Shiyuan had room in her eyes for anyone else.
“I want to ask whether, under the Great Dao, we cultivators ought to treat humans and demons equally. When dealing with certain matters, should we cast aside our ingrained prejudices against demons, peer into their true nature, and probe the root causes? That way, perhaps we could resolve the intractable conflicts between humans and demons that have persisted for millennia.” The young man’s voice rang clear and bright. From afar, his posture stood tall like a newborn poplar tree, bathed in the light of breaking dawn, every word infused with righteous conviction.
Yun Feng paused after speaking. “Ye Lord saved that pair of Nightingale Demons last night for precisely this reason, didn’t you?”
This bold conjecture stirred Lu Shiyuan’s blood. She turned to gaze at the woman beside her, a flicker of emotion crossing her face.
—Did Shang Si truly harbor such noble ideals deep in her heart?
But no sooner had the thought surfaced than a scoff sounded from right beside her. “You’re overthinking it.”
Lu Shiyuan schooled her expression and withdrew her gaze.
Fine then.
The spark of passion in her chest fizzled out before it could ignite. But on second thought, it made sense—if Shang Si really thought that way, she wouldn’t be the Shang Si whom Lu Shiyuan knew.
Shang Si was at a loss for words but too lazy to bother explaining.
Just as when they’d arrived, she departed without a word, transforming into a streak of light that shot toward the mountain.
Lu Shiyuan, who always took her cues from Shang Si, naturally followed close behind.
They’d spent the entire night down the mountain, and this demon-hunting excursion had ended in failure.
But with Shang Si’s intervention to pin the blame on, Yun Feng could easily shift responsibility onto this Ye Lord. The Kunlun Sect elders wouldn’t dare utter a peep.
A mere pair of Nightingale Demons—letting them go was no great loss.
Two streaks of light—one leading, one trailing—passed through the Kunlun Sect’s mountain gate. Even as they reached the courtyard in the back mountains, Shang Si showed no sign of slowing to wait for Lu Shiyuan.
It was Lu Shiyuan who hurried forward and called out to the figure ahead. “A Si, wait!”
Shang Si assumed Lu Shiyuan had chased after her over Yun Feng’s earlier words. She paused mid-stride, her pale brows furrowing as she turned. “Humans and demons can never coexist in harmony. Demons are born stronger than humans—they can live for centuries or even millennia with ease, toying with mortals between their fingers. For humans, mingling with demons is like bargaining with a tiger. Before an absolute gap in power, such conflicts can never be reconciled.” That was human nature, plain and simple.
“He spouts childish fantasies. Do you think the same?”
The sudden lecture caught Lu Shiyuan off guard. She blinked, then pursed her lips. “Mm… that’s not what I came to talk about.”
Why on earth would she chase after Shang Si just to discuss Yun Feng?
Shang Si tilted her head slightly, meeting her eyes. In those clear, lovely almond-shaped depths, Shang Si’s own reflection stared back.
What Lu Shiyuan had to say clearly embarrassed her. She clenched her hands, then slowly released them, speaking softly. “These past few days, ever since that incident, you’ve been distant with me—neither warm nor cold. I’ve thought it over, and I still believe I owe you a proper apology.”
“That day, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that or given you attitude. You were only looking out for me.”
“I’m sorry, A Si.” As she spoke, Lu Shiyuan bowed her head and took a tentative half-step forward, tugging gently at Shang Si’s skirt sleeve.
It was like a young child seeking to make up after a spat—or perhaps simple coquetry.
A subtle ripple passed through Shang Si’s heart. Her beautiful eyes lingered on the other woman’s softly closed lips, and for a moment, she lost herself.
Of course, she knew exactly why this faint, peculiar feeling had arisen.
“Why apologize?” Unconsciously, Shang Si’s tone softened too.
Lu Shiyuan lifted her gaze, nibbling gently at her lower lip. “I’m afraid you’re still angry with me.”
Such a small gesture deepened the color in Shang Si’s eyes. After exhaling softly, she looked away. “Do you think a simple apology is enough to make me stop being mad at you?”
“Of course it is. I’ve apologized sincerely, so you can’t stay mad at me anymore.” Perhaps sensing that Shang Si’s attitude had softened, Lu Shiyuan grew bolder. She shifted from tugging at the other’s skirt sleeve to taking her hand, hooking her pinky around Shang Si’s and giving it a gentle shake.
Shang Si clearly fell for it.
Her gaze returned, her eyes lowering slightly as a charming smile played at her lips. “In that case, let me apologize to you too.”
No sooner had the words left her mouth than Shang Si opened her other palm. A small brocade box appeared right before Lu Shiyuan’s eyes. “You weren’t there yesterday, so I went ahead and completed the deal with Lin Xiao. This Ten-Thousand-Year He Shou Wu is mine now.”
“Shiyuan, it won’t be long before you can repair all your Spirit Veins and shake off that cripple label.”
Shang Si’s eyes burned with fervor and resolve as she spoke.
Before Lu Shiyuan could even protest, Shang Si abruptly released her hand and lifted it instead.
Her cool fingertips pressed against Lu Shiyuan’s soft, red lips. A hint of smug satisfaction colored Shang Si’s voice as she curved her mouth into a smile. “Just like you said—I’ve already apologized, so you can’t be mad at me anymore.”
