Thriving after the Moon Falls (I Can’t Possibly Take Pity On A Demon) - Chapter 59
Chapter 59
Feng Fuming looked at Liu shuang with an inscrutable expression, his gaze sweeping over the Xirang in her hand.
Liu shuang had thought several times that he might make a move and wouldn’t let them leave easily.
After all, this lord was as ruthless and venomous as a scorpion.
Yet, even after she had mounted Shaoyou’s crane, there was still no sign of him taking action.
“Young Master Jimo, what a broad mind you have,” Feng Fuming said with deep meaning.
Liu shuang looked down at him.
He smiled faintly, “May I know the immortal’s name?”
“Chishui Liushuang,” she replied, now unafraid to reveal her name with Shaoyou by her side.
“Very well,” Feng Fuming narrowed his long, narrow eyes, his tone laced with amusement.
“If the immortal takes the spiritual vein, it’s no different from me taking it. It’s a pity that immortal Chishui missed today’s Four Seas Banquet, leaving only a clan maiden to take her place. But no matter, I am most adept at filling in such gaps.”
“Clan maiden?” Liu shuang caught the two words in his speech.
She remembered that on the day she left the heavenly chariot, she had left a letter for her father and hadn’t asked anyone to replace her at the Four Seas Banquet.
After all, this banquet was Feng Fuming’s selection of a consort, and she wouldn’t act recklessly.
Feng Fuming chuckled ambiguously, offering no further explanation.
At this moment, Shaoyou spoke, “Immortal Chishui and I will take our leave now. Farewell, Crown Prince.”
Shaoyou’s tone was neither humble nor overbearing, and he indeed held such status.
Long ago, ten thousand years back, the position of the Heavenly Lord was selected from among the four great immortal realms, with the most capable taking the throne.
If not for the Feng family’s overwhelming power and tyranny, the position of Crown Prince might well have fallen to Shaoyou.
Moreover, even if Shaoyou were not the future Heavenly Lord, he was still the lord of Kunlun, a position of great respect, and he did not need to submit to anyone.
As the crane took off, a flash of goose-yellow light flew towards them from afar.
“Brother Shaoyou!”
Shaoyou paused but did not look back, continuing to take Liu shuang away.
Feng Caiyi wanted to chase after them, but Feng Fuming, with a dark expression, pulled her back.
“Brother, let me go, I need to find him,” Feng Caiyi said urgently. Today’s Four Seas Banquet was her brother’s selection of a consort, but for Feng Caiyi, it was also the best day.
She had finally convinced her father to betroth her to Shaoyou, and Shaoyou, after some deliberation, had not opposed.
Feng Caiyi hid behind the curtains, nervous and anxious, stealing glances.
She was overjoyed, her thousand-year wish about to come true.
If not for her mother, the Heavenly Consort, forbidding her from being rude, she would have urged her father to skip the formalities and directly discuss the marriage with the young master of Kunlun.
Feng Caiyi knew that Shaoyou did not yet love her, but it didn’t matter.
She had persisted for so long and didn’t care about the days to come.
With Shaoyou’s character, even if he didn’t love her, he would cherish and respect her, not letting his wife suffer.
She knew that for the sake of Kunlun’s nearly depleted spiritual vein, Shaoyou would agree.
But before the banquet was half over, an old man with a white beard whispered something in Shaoyou’s ear.
Shaoyou paused, then found an excuse to leave!
Shaoyou casually caught a spirit crane from the banquet to guide him and left the heavenly realm in an instant.
Feng Caiyi was so angry she could grind her teeth.
She quickly followed, but her cultivation was naturally inferior to Shaoyou’s, and she fell far behind.
By the time she caught up, she saw him leaving with a woman.
Feng Caiyi only had time to glance at the woman, but she had to admit, the girl was stunning—
Her eyes like spring water, her lips like red silk, a blue feather flower on her forehead like a shyly blooming lotus, adorned by the morning light.
In her shock, Feng Caiyi realized she had never seen this woman before.
A great sense of crisis made her heart tighten.
She was about to chase after them when Feng Fuming restrained her.
Feng Fuming smiled gently, “Still chasing? Haven’t you embarrassed the Feng family enough, hmm?”
His voice was extremely soft, but when Feng Caiyi met his affectionate eyes, she trembled and lowered her head.
She was afraid of him.
The two shared the same father but different mothers. Feng Fuming’s mother was the Heavenly Consort, while hers was a minor earth immortal.
Feng Caiyi was an unexpected product of the Heavenly Lord’s dalliance.
However, immortal bloodlines were always rare and precious, so she was brought back to the heavenly realm to be raised, growing up alongside Feng Fuming.
This elder brother always spoke and smiled gently, but she was afraid of him, terribly afraid.
No one understood better than her how terrifying Feng Fuming was.
Feng Fuming was the Crown Prince, and she was a princess.
Others only saw her high status, but only Feng Caiyi knew the vast difference between them.
Feng Fuming’s tone was indifferent as he said lightly, “Let’s go.”
His figure turned into a stream of light and suddenly disappeared before the Weak Water. Feng Caiyi bit her lip, not daring to disobey him.
She glanced in the direction Shaoyou and Liu shuang had gone, then followed Feng Fuming.
After everyone left, Fuheng looked at Yan Chaosheng.
It was the first time Fuheng had seen so many noble-blooded immortals.
To these descendants of ancient bloodlines, creatures like them were no different from insignificant sand or animals.
Not only had the Crown Prince and Princess not glanced at the mountain lord, but even the immortal whom the lord had personally jumped into the water to save hadn’t looked at him.
Indeed, when mortals are in a hurry, why would they stop to look at ants?
The mountain lord’s arm was now only bones, glowing strangely in the rising sun.
The pain of flesh being stripped away was unbearable for ordinary people, but Yan Chaosheng’s expression was calm.
He didn’t show a hint of pain, as serene as the calm before a storm.
Yan Chaosheng watched the crowd leave with a detached gaze.
After a long while, he suddenly asked, “Do you hate the immortals?”
Fuheng looked up.
Under the sunlight, Yan Chaosheng’s eyes were pitch black, his voice soft and low, devoid of any fluctuation.
Of course.
Fuheng thought, he hated them deeply.
He would always remember the forest where he had once lived, how his father had been killed by a hypocritical immortal who took his core, how his mother had been dragged away by a group of mortal cultivators and violated in a broken temple.
His mother was a beautiful, delicate flower demon.
They tortured her to death and didn’t forget to use her essence to make incense.
That day, the fragrance that permeated the entire town lingered for a long time.
Fuheng crawled out of the tree hollow where he had been hiding and followed the scent of his mother, only to see the incense being bought for a hundred taels of gold.
The disciples laughed contentedly, “Not bad, worth the effort Master spent to deal with that tiger demon. Did you see how, even in death, he told the flower demon to run? Run? Could she escape?”
They laughed heartily, then lamented that such a beautiful flower demon was hard to find in the world.
In their cave, they hadn’t seen any offspring, what a pity.
Just a group of beasts who had gained immortal blessings could trample all things underfoot.
At that moment, the young Fuheng truly wanted to kill them all.
But as he grew up, he didn’t inherit his father’s demonic power but his mother’s beauty.
He grew up hiding and dodging, unable to take revenge, and was eventually captured and offered to the mountain lord of Demon Mountain, kept as a plaything.
During the long years of torment, Fuheng forgot how to laugh, how to cry, and even his hatred became blurred.
The previous mountain lord was so powerful, yet he dared not provoke the immortals.
Fuheng thought he would live like this forever, until that day when Yan Chaosheng arrived, and Demon Mountain was bathed in blood.
The young man lifted him up, shattered the chains on his body, and fed him a pile of demon cores.
From a weak little demon, he suddenly became a powerful demon.
The youth, unstable in his true form and filled with dark energy, made only one request: “Go guard outside.”
Fuheng, without a word, stood guard outside.
Now, Yan Chaosheng before him asked, “Do you hate the immortals?”
Fuheng was silent for a long time, then “treasonously” nodded.
He would never deceive his master.
Yan Chaosheng raised his hand, and the Weak water surged, forming a vortex.
He grasped at the air, and countless blood threads gathered from the Ruoshui.
Fuheng stared in shock.
At this moment, the Weak Water was playfully controlled by Yan Chaosheng, no longer terrifying and powerful.
Yan Chaosheng casually brushed over the bones of his arm, and flesh regrew.
He said softly, “Since you hate them, then kill those who deserve to be killed.”
Fuheng looked over.
Daylight came to Demon Mountain.
The youth who had once saved him, still carrying some youthful spirit, now only exuded a steady coldness, his eyes dark.
When he said “kill them all,” it was as casual as eating or dressing.
Fuheng vaguely realized that something seemed different.
He remembered the youth who had stormed into Demon Mountain that day.
Though his demonic nature was violent, he had tried to suppress and control it, sealing himself under the cold pool and telling Fuheng to guard outside.
But now, the deep hatred in his eyes seemed to have been brewing for ten thousand years.
It surged forth.
If the little immortal had turned to look at him, she would have noticed.
He had jumped into the Weak Water for her.
If only she had looked back at him, or not left with Shaoyou.
Liu shuang was now on her way back to Kongsang with Shaoyou.
The crane flew slowly.
In Yangshuo City, a spring rain began to fall in April, and she suggested going down to take a look.
Shaoyou said nothing, nodding and taking her down.
She walked through the alleys, relying on her memory, and arrived at a red door.
Liu shuang looked up to see three large characters: “Helan Residence.”
Hundreds of years later, this would be her home in the mortal world.
Back then, it was called the Yue Residence, and she was Yue Liushuang.
She remembered wearing a bridal gown and knocking on this door, only to be told by the servant that it was now the Zhang Residence, leaving her in shock.
The world was ever-changing, and time moved too quickly in the mortal realm.
She wondered if, having unlocked her Huiling heart early, she would still meet her parents hundreds of years later.
Shaoyou looked down at her, seeing the nostalgic tenderness in her eyes, and thought she might enter.
The tightly closed door was no obstacle for an immortal, but after a long wait, she did nothing, signaling Shaoyou to leave with her.
The two walked together on the streets of the mortal world in April.
The girl used the jewelry on her body as collateral to buy two umbrellas, one for herself and one for him.
The vendor was overjoyed.
She smiled, “And the change?”
Shaoyou glanced at her.
The vendor was taken aback.
He had thought the girl, using jewels to buy umbrellas, was a naive young lady from a wealthy family and had planned to swindle her.
He didn’t expect her to know his umbrellas weren’t worth that much.
Embarrassed, he handed over a few silver ingots.
But she shook her head slightly, taking only a small piece and handing the umbrella to Shaoyou.
He had forgotten, but she remembered when she had first wandered outside, lost and confused, she had been cheated—a bun costing her an ingot of silver.
She had bitten into the bun, missing her family, when Shaoyou’s sword hilt tapped the vendor’s wrist, and he said coldly, “Even if she doesn’t understand, you shouldn’t cheat her.”
Now, without the experience of wandering the mortal world for hundreds of years searching for souls, it was she who remembered the little things Shaoyou had taught her.
Shaoyou didn’t ask why, reaching out to take the umbrella.
She led him to a bridge where people hurried to avoid the rain.
Two immortals holding umbrellas walked with unusual calm.
It was the bridge where, in her past life, she had waited for him for so long.
She hadn’t waited for Shaoyou but for Yan Chaosheng, the deceiver.
The spring willows on the bridge were as green as they had been back then.
