Thriving after the Moon Falls (I Can’t Possibly Take Pity On A Demon) - Chapter 91
Chapter 91
Yan Chaosheng finished dealing with the people from southern spiritual vein and dragged Su Lun back with him.
He spoke concisely and coldly: “Go ahead and run… I’ll break your legs.”
Su Lun: “……”
Foxes, being a cunning species, were accustomed to watching from the sidelines, scheming and slipping through the cracks.
Even if all other races were wiped out, they could always find a way to survive.
And now, Yan Chaosheng’s calm yet resolute words didn’t sound like a joke at all.
Su Lun awkwardly followed him back, his mind still turning over what he had just seen.
He cast a probing glance at Yan Chaosheng, feeling more and more that this demon lord knew too much.
But no matter how clever he was, there was no way he could guess where the person before him had truly come from.
Yan Chaosheng never intended to hide anything.
Compared to his youth, he was now thick-skinned and caustic.
He hadn’t even concealed his Xiangliu bloodline from Su Lun, and he had no intention of hiding his origins either.
They would figure it out eventually.
After all, the collapse of Mount You was clear proof and he was the future ruler who would unite all the realms.
Keeping Su Lun around had great advantages.
The man was extremely useful, and a bit of despicableness didn’t matter.
Lately, many immortal soldiers and spies had entered the Ghost Realm, all of whom had their necks twisted by Fu Heng.
Yan Chaosheng wasn’t busy at all. He sat with his legs crossed in the palace, listening to a storyteller.
Butterfly demon were adept at flattery and had found a charming mister from the mortal realm.
This storyteller was well-versed in major events from both the immortal and human realms over the past three years and spoke with flair and intrigue.
Yan Chaosheng didn’t go looking for Liu Shuang immediately.
After so long apart, he didn’t want to be recognized the moment he stepped into this world.
To her, he, this despicable and heartless demon lord was nothing good.
A second chance was hard to come by.
Better to let her remember the boy who had once sacrificed everything for her.
At least that version was pure and spotless.
“Go on, tell me everything you know, truth or lie, all of it.”
Yan Chaosheng retained the memories from his youth.
The moment he awoke, he knew that the Liu Shuang of this world was the little immortal grass from before.
She still carried her memories and her hatred for him but no longer any love.
When Yan Chaosheng woke, his soul faintly sensed a guiding force it was the power of Hui Ling’s heart from the Soul Lantern.
Alongside his disbelief was a vague sense of strangeness.
The little immortal girl, once hurt, no longer loved him and yet could still be moved by a fool.
But he was no longer that fool.
Now, he was a walking disaster, causing harm to others with no benefit to himself.
Yan Chaosheng had been gone for three years.
Now, through the storyteller’s mouth, he could learn of the changes Liu Shuang had brought about.
What kind of world had this become?
The storyteller looked at the cloud of black mist upon the throne, cold sweat pouring from his face.
That man on the throne …h-he was the Ghost Lord! Apparently in life he had been some kind of snake demon, and every kind of being like that terrified the storyteller to the core.
Telling stories in front of the demon lord, he feared one slip of the tongue might cost him his head.
Yet Yan Chaosheng had a smile tugging at his lips.
Not bad.
Given a second life, she had finally grown smarter and was doing well for herself, so well that this world was no longer the one he remembered.
The storyteller began with events three years ago, starting with the dramatic scene of the Mountain Lord Yan Chaosheng being splattered in blood in the Grand Hall.
Stroking his beard, he sighed with feeling.
“That Mountain Lord harbored deep affection, only to end up with his soul scattered, a tragic end…”
The storyteller had no idea that the demon lord before him was once that very Mountain Lord.
This scene stirred memories belonging to the boy that Yan Chaosheng once was.
He recalled the youth shedding tears of blood, clutching a wedding robe to his chest.
That boy had hated Liu Shuang to the bone, yet clung desperately to one question — had she ever loved him, even once?
Yan Chaosheng pressed a hand to his chest.
The pain and hatred of that boy were vivid, as if it had happened just yesterday.
He could almost feel it, as if it were his own.
If the version of him that returned had no memory of his past life, he surely would have sought vengeance.
He would’ve dragged her down and had them both torn to pieces.
He would never have allowed her a single moment of peace while she lived.
But the Yan Chaosheng of today carried the memories of the man who once destroyed her entire clan and thus understood her hatred more clearly than anyone.
He had nothing left to say.
Only silent comfort in seeing her growth.
The little immortal grass who once trembled behind him, hiding her head from heavenly thunder, had finally learned something.
Knowing how to kill was better than standing there, dumb and naive, waiting to be deceived and have her heart gouged out.
Yan Chaosheng was no longer the pure youth he once was.
That boy in the life where he never met Liu Shuang had suffered too much.
So much that even hatred was a luxury few spared for him.
Yan Chaosheng thought: this is fine.
Her love was once his.
Her hatred now was his alone too.
All of it belonged to him and none of it shared with anyone else.
And when he thought of the hatred in her eyes, his body stirred with a strange excitement.
Yan Chaosheng sighed and laughed, propping his forehead with a hand.
Truly… such complicated feelings.
When he met her again like this, she would certainly despise him and perhaps even see through him at a glance.
There was no way he’d dare go see her right away.
A well-laid game couldn’t be ruined now.
The storyteller’s tales were rich in content.
He soon moved on to major events involving Feng Fuming.
Yan Chaosheng murmured thoughtfully, “It does differ somewhat from what I remember.”
As he spoke, the storyteller suddenly remembered something.
Before coming here, he had accepted a bribe from the butterfly demon — Cong Xia had only one request:
Slander Chishui Liushuang!
The storyteller quickly added, “The young miss of the Chishui clan could be called quite the charming figure. Three years ago, in the Grand Hall of Kongsang, she plotted and caused the death of the Mountain Lord of the Demon Palace. In the following years, she got entangled with the young master of Kunlun. She severed ties with her father and stayed in Kunlun for a long time. The Kunlun young master cherished her deeply and always put her first. In fact, this immortal once had a brief affair with the Heavenly Lord too. It’s said that upon first sight, the Heavenly Lord was captivated by her beauty, and they shared a fleeting romance. Counting it all up, the number of men who’ve been involved with her… is truly countless…”
The more he spoke, the more he felt something was wrong.
The storyteller looked up and saw Yan Chaosheng watching him with a half-smile.
“Everything else you’ve said,true or false,I won’t comment on. But that last part… might require some correction,” Yan Chaosheng said lightly.
“Wh-what?” the storyteller stammered.
“From beginning to end, the number of men who’ve been involved with her… is exactly one.”
The storyteller stuttered, “Who?”
Behind the ghostly mist, the man smiled faintly but said nothing.
That day, the storyteller was carried out with his rear end split open like a flower.
Outsiders only knew he had displeased the Demon Lord with his storytelling.
Such a minor incident stirred not even the faintest ripple.
Outside, war raged fiercely.
The immortals clashed, mortals suffered in the wake.
On the battlefield between Kunlun and the Heavenly Clan, not a blade of grass survived within a hundred miles, the air thick with the stench of smoke and blood.
And yet, the Demon Lord watched from the sidelines, showing no intention of interfering.
Every three days, the Ghost Realm held court.
One of the demon generals couldn’t hold back and asked, “Now that both sides have taken damage, why not seize the opportunity and strike? Wipe them all out, leave no survivors!”
They speculated that the Demon Lord’s power likely surpassed Feng Fuming’s.
There was no need to fear him—so why the hesitation? Both sides’ immortal troops were exhausted, even Kongsang’s were dragged into the fray.
These immortals were all their enemies.
If it were up to him, they should all be slaughtered!
“No rush,” Yan Chaosheng said.
“This war dragging on so long is already suspicious. Feng Fuming is waiting to see if I will make a move. Give it a few more days and when Kunlun can no longer hold out, I’ll make my decision.”
Since he said so, no one dared object.
Yan Chaosheng waited for the right moment.
But before he could act, that night, he had a dream, a nightmare of the Xiangliu clan’s slaughter. Rivers of blood, wails filling the air. Children were cut down like livestock, their souls trapped within the spiritual veins, forever denied rebirth.
Yan Chaosheng awoke in silence.
Eyes cold, he didn’t wait for daybreak before heading straight to the Ruthlessness Hall.
The hall still vaguely resembled what he remembered.
Inside, he gazed at the cold pool for a long while.
“Come out, Meng Ji.”
With a wave of his hand, a graceful, beautiful soul floated up from the icy waters.
But the soul now brimmed with murderous resentment—Meng Ji, hidden away in the Ghost Realm, had become a wrathful specter of indignation.
“You’ve been hiding here ever since the Demon Suppression Tower shattered?”
Meng Ji had known the moment she used her dream-weaving powers to stir his hatred that he would find her.
She stared at him, dazed.
“You… Your Highness, you’ve awakened your bloodline power.”
“Wonderful. After tens of thousands of years, the day has finally come. Now, all that’s left is the Heart of Huiling, and the Xiangliu clan can reclaim its ancient glory!”
Her expression was manic, just like in the past.
Even her words were exactly the same.
So familiar—this was exactly how they had once forced him.
Yan Chaosheng looked at her, this woman who was half a mother to him, and found it utterly laughable.
Were there truly mothers like this in the world? Was her child not mad enough already that she had to keep driving him insane like this?
It was through such madness that he had once deceived Liu Shuang into drinking the heart-refining elixir.
Meng Ji covered her lips and said, “Now that Your Highness has awakened your bloodline, you must understand, this sea of blood and hatred must be avenged. You already know where the Heart of Huiling is and that is her fate. Meng Ji knows that you once had feelings for her, but times have changed. Your Highness, have you still not given up?”
She raised a hand, trying to touch Yan Chaosheng’s face.
But he brushed it away, smiling. “Meng Ji, who gave you permission to probe my heart?”
Meng Ji froze in shock and she heard nothing.
Her power had failed!
She grew anxious, her expression twisting in rage.
“Your Highness, do you still care for her? Back then, Night Demon Luo and the others did everything they could to preserve your remnant soul just for this day, to help you rise! Yet Your Highness has returned and still hasn’t moved against that woman!”
So Meng Ji had no choice but to use her dreams to force him to relive the nightmare of his clan’s annihilation again and again.
Yan Chaosheng looked at her coldly.
After a long moment, he laughed. “Meng Ji, you really have lived… long enough. Do you still take me for that helpless child you could manipulate at will?”
Meng Ji’s eyes went wide with horror.
“What are you trying to do? I am your mother!”
“Mother?” Yan Chaosheng sneered.
“Yan was born of heaven and earth—he has no mother.”
He waved his hand, and a formation sprang up: “Stay here, Meng Ji. It’s not that I cannot bear to kill you. But the next time I return, it will be the day you die. I know what must be done—your presumptuous meddling is unnecessary.”
Meng Ji lunged at him like a madwoman, only to crash into the barrier.
After a certain morning court session, Yan Chaosheng stayed behind and called for Zhan Xueyang.
“Give me the Heart-Refining Elixir you’ve been refining.”
Zhan Xueyang asked, “Your Majesty intends to take revenge for the massacre?”
Ever since Yan Chaosheng left You Mountain, Zhan Xueyang had been refining the elixir in preparation, knowing it would be needed one day.
Now that it was ready, he handed over the transparent glass vial.
Yan Chaosheng looked at the bottle, and his pupils narrowed imperceptibly.
He remembered the little immortal girl on the swing behind the courtyard, her face pale from pain.
So many times she had willingly drunk the elixir and knowing her timid nature, she must have been terrified.
“Yes. Revenge,” Yan Chaosheng replied blandly.
Zhan Xueyang suspected nothing.
After all, the enmity was bloody and brutal.
He’d heard of it.
It was impossible, in his mind, that Yan Chaosheng still harbored love for Chishui Liushuang.
The bottle in his hand was smooth and cold to the touch, carrying a bone-chilling frost.
Yan Chaosheng turned it slowly, his lashes casting a cold shadow over his eyes.
None of that would happen again.
He had once paid a heavy price, and now he knew the correct path to take.
Within days, rumors spread like wildfire throughout the Ghost Realm about how Liushuang had once trapped and nearly destroyed Yan Chaosheng.
Some even claimed: “The Demon Lord himself issued a bounty on Chishui Liushuang and whoever captures her and brings her back to the Ghost Realm shall receive a great reward.”
As the most powerful figure in the entire Ghost Realm, Yan Chaosheng’s word carried weight.
Many believed the rumors and began waiting for Liushuang and Jimo Shaoyou to be defeated by Feng Fuming, planning to swoop in and seize her themselves.
Even if it sounded utterly fantastical.
Whispers among the ghost cultivators spread:
“Since ancient times, ghost cultivators have been bound by the limits of the Heavenly Will and unable to break through. It’s said that whoever captures the Demon Lord’s mortal enemy will be granted secret techniques to transcend those limits.”
“If he’s willing to share such secrets with outsiders, the Demon Lord must truly hate that immortal woman. If she ever falls into his hands, she’ll have no hope of living, no way to die.”
“Of course. The Demon Lord is ruthless and if he was so merciless to the Qianren Sect, imagine how he’ll treat a woman who betrayed him and bears such deep enmity.”
