Yue Lin sighed, “Alright.”

He headed into the courtyard, saying, “Come on, I’ll help you catch crickets.”

Chu Tong followed behind, “But crickets aren’t that big this time of year, and it’s not much fun. I was looking forward to the Spring Festival, but it was canceled because of Xue Wuya. How unlucky.”

Yue Lin chuckled lightly.

Chu Tong looked at him with admiration. “You went down into the Celestial Burial Pit, right? What was it like? It’s always ranked among the top five most dangerous places! Must’ve been pretty exciting in there, right?”

Yue Lin didn’t respond.

“I heard it was the demon clan that caused it, is that true?” Chu Tong asked, eager for gossip.

Yue Lin glanced at him. “Everything’s the demon clan’s fault, huh? You didn’t pass your entrance exam—bet that was the demon clan’s doing too.”

“…” Chu Tong jumped around him, “Is that what I said?”

Yue Lin pushed aside some tangled vines and foliage as they walked deeper into the courtyard. Moonlight Palace covered a vast area, but Chu Hanjin didn’t care much for managing the grounds, so the vegetation had grown wild. The overgrown greenery, with its tranquil, secluded feel, matched Chu Hanjin’s cool, aloof nature perfectly.

Chu Tong continued, “Aren’t you worried though? The demon clan’s numbers are growing, and their current Demon Lord is ambitious, always doing things to benefit them at the expense of others. They keep encroaching on the righteous path. If a real battle breaks out, we might not win.”

Yue Lin crouched down, rummaging through the grass.

“Too bad every Demon Lord can’t be as short-lived as the last one.”

Yue Lin paused and looked up at him.

Chu Tong went on, “You know, that Demon Lord? Didn’t even last three months! Cruel, depraved, indulged day and night—so bad that even the demon clan couldn’t stand it. They tore him to pieces themselves. Supposedly, they pulled out all his bones, sliced off his flesh, and even the dogs wouldn’t eat it!”

Yue Lin smiled, calculating inwardly.

That short-lived Demon Lord—wasn’t that me?

Though the part about being cruel and depraved, constantly indulging—completely untrue. But rumors had spread that way, and he didn’t care enough to correct them.

Yue Lin pulled out a wild vegetable leaf from the grass.

Chu Tong asked, “What’s that?”

“Golden Crown Greens,” Yue Lin said. “Last batch of spring. Sweet and fresh, best stir-fried with oil.”

Chu Tong tilted his head. “Weren’t you supposed to be catching crickets for me? Why’re you picking wild vegetables?”

Yue Lin replied, “It’s for Lord Yue Zhao—a taste from his childhood. You go back and tend to the medicine. Stop following me around.”

“Oh.” Chu Tong obediently left.

Yue Lin wandered leisurely through the grass, gathering wild vegetables. He even found some wildflowers, plucking a bunch in various colors—red, yellow, blue, and purple—and lazily held them in his hand.

When Chu Hanjin stepped out of his hall and approached the doorway, he saw Yue Lin standing in the bright spring sunlight, holding a bunch of flowers, his face touched by dappled light.

Chu Hanjin frowned slightly.

For some reason, this scene felt strangely familiar.

Yue Lin raised the flowers in his hand. “Want these?”

Perhaps, once, someone had nodded and said yes.

But Chu Hanjin’s gaze followed his movements, eyes cold. “No.”

Then he added, “Come inside.”

Yue Lin asked, “Inside?”

Chu Hanjin only said things once. With a flick of his sleeve, he returned to the hall. After spending the afternoon thinking, he realized that getting angry wouldn’t solve the problem. He had to deal with it.

Yue Lin sat at the tea table with the food he brought. He uncovered the dishes: stir-fried lettuce with shrimp, a bowl of bone and mushroom soup, and a plate of fresh, green Golden Crown Greens.

“Let’s eat while we talk,” Yue Lin said.

Chu Hanjin had barely eaten all day. Even though he felt hungry, the sight of food made him nauseous. Despite the hunger, he had no appetite.

Just as he was about to brush it all away, his eyes caught sight of the Golden Crown Greens, and he froze. “Where did you find this?”

“In the wild patch of your courtyard,” Yue Lin replied.

When Chu Hanjin was a child, his mother would gather wild vegetables by the river every spring, along with her lovely attendants, amidst the misty rain and laughter of the Jiangnan region. Golden Crown Greens had always been a staple dish in their household. It had been years since anyone had brought him this.

Yue Lin picked up some of the greens with his chopsticks and placed them in Chu Hanjin’s bowl. “I didn’t use rice wine to enhance the flavor because you’re pregnant. You can’t have alcohol.”

“…”

The slight warmth Chu Hanjin had just felt was immediately replaced by a heavy silence.

After a pause, Chu Hanjin covered his mouth and said, “The child.”

Yue Lin asked, “What about the child?”

In a tone that sounded more like discussing a grand philosophical issue, Chu Hanjin said, “I can give birth to the child.”

Yue Lin looked up at him.

Chu Hanjin’s voice was flat, his face expressionless. “As a cultivator, if one gains a heavenly blessing but uses it for senseless killing, it becomes an act of tyranny. I thought it over this afternoon—even though I don’t remember you, and we aren’t married, the child is innocent.”

Yue Lin’s eyes glinted with amusement.

Chu Hanjin remained as calm as still water, his expression unchanging. “I’ll give birth to the child, and you can take the child away. Then we’re even. Also—”

As expected.

Whenever Chu Hanjin seemed to compromise, he’d already thought of another condition to add.

Yue Lin hummed in acknowledgment. “What else?”

Chu Hanjin’s voice lowered. “During the ten months of pregnancy, I can handle everything myself. You don’t need to appear before me. Once the child is born, I’ll give it to you.”

Yue Lin dragged out his reply, “Mm-hmm.”

Chu Hanjin immediately shot him a cold glare. “Do you have any objections?”

Yue Lin slowly set down his chopsticks. “No objections, but in normal families, when a wife is pregnant, the husband usually stays by her side. If he doesn’t, people might start talking.”

Chu Hanjin responded, “You don’t need to worry about rumors. We’re not a married couple.”

Yue Lin thought for a moment and then added, “Maybe you’ll need me.”

Chu Hanjin retorted, “I won’t.”

He maintained his cold and composed demeanor, eyelashes lowered, but there was a hint of reluctance in his words. “I… I can give birth on my own.”

His hand rested lightly on his abdomen.

Yue Lin frowned slightly, thinking carefully before he spoke. “Your pregnancy is different from that of an ordinary woman’s. It’s the result of a forbidden technique I cast. Magic like this has flaws and requires additional support. It would be safer if I stayed by your side.”

Chu Hanjin was about to lose his temper. “I already told you I can handle it.”

He seemed ready to push his food away again.

Yue Lin raised his eyebrows, then agreed, “Alright. If you don’t need me, I’ll leave. But call for me anytime if you change your mind.”

His gentle tone and compliance soothed Chu Hanjin’s anger, and his expression finally softened. His lips parted as he quietly began to eat.

Yue Lin thought to himself, Let’s see how long you can hold out.

The truth about this forbidden technique was that it had been created by one of Yue Lin’s eccentric uncles, a demon notorious for his love of men. This uncle would entertain a dozen beautiful young men in a single night and had developed various strange techniques to indulge his desires. Yue Lin had modified the technique for his own purposes, but there were still some peculiarities attached to it.

As Yue Lin watched Chu Hanjin’s pale, elegant face, he wondered, What expression will he wear when the effects of the spell fully kick in?

After they finished eating, Chu Hanjin left the palace for the first time in a while.

The sudden disappearance of Xue Wuya had caused the Six Great Sects to disband early, and the Spring Festival had been greatly subdued. The cultivators from various families had already received notices to leave Far Mountain Sect in the next day or two.

Not far from a nearby pavilion, a few people were chatting in a group.

“I went down into the Celestial Burial Pit with the others. There were talismans on the neck of the Qin Demon, controlling spirits—killing both humans and ghosts. It was terrifying!”

“Leaving this place early is the smart move. If he gets out of the pit, we’re all dead.”

“All dead? You forgot, this is Far Mountain Sect’s territory.”

Another asked, “Does anyone know what the talisman looked like?”

Rumors had spread, and someone pulled out a piece of paper, sketching for a while before holding it up. “It looked like this.”

Clearly, the sketch was based on hearsay. The drawing was a six-pointed star, which looked nothing like the symbol on the Qin Demon’s neck.

“Wow, that’s what it looked like?”

“What’s so special about that?”

Then, someone else spoke up. “Wait, I’ve seen a talisman that looks somewhat similar. But the edges were curved, like water droplets, with a faint red glow in the middle.”

Chu Hanjin stopped in his tracks.

He turned and called someone over. “Bring him here.”

The man approached. He was a young, frail-looking fellow in a pale green robe, shoulders slightly hunched, as if worn down by indulgence. He carried a fan with an air of forced elegance.

Chu Hanjin said, “Draw the symbol you saw.”

The man nodded, picked up a brush, and in a few strokes, drew it out and handed it to Chu Hanjin. “Here, Immortal Lord.”

The drawing showed six tomoe, spread in a circular formation, with a faint red hue.

It was exactly the restriction placed on the Qin Demon.

Chu Hanjin’s gaze shifted from the drawing to the man’s face. “May I ask your name?”

“My surname is Wu, given name Lan.”

“Where are you from?”

“I’m from the northern desert.”

“And where did you see this symbol?”

Wu Lan tapped his forehead with his fan. “The northern desert borders the demon realm, and there’s a market where we occasionally trade. I saw demons once, buying things with their slaves in chains. The slaves had this same restriction on them.”

One of his companions chimed in, “When did you see that? I never noticed.”

Wu Lan laughed. “You were too busy ogling pretty girls on the street to see it.”

The friend scoffed, “Like you weren’t the first to hit up the pleasure houses.”

They were joking, even in front of Chu Hanjin.

Laughter erupted all around.

Chu Hanjin nodded and said, “Thank you.”

With that, he turned, his white robes billowing, and headed back to Moonlight Palace.

He had planned to discuss the matter with Mu Lianchun, but seeing that it was late, he returned to the palace. The medicine Chu Tong had brewed was ready, and Chu Hanjin drank a bowl before preparing for bed. But once he lay down, his heart began racing.

It wasn’t just his heart—his abdomen felt hot, and his forehead flushed red.

Chu Hanjin removed his outer robe, leaving only a white inner garment, but even that felt too warm. He sat up, fanning himself.

Does everyone who’s pregnant feel this way?

Already, on the first day of realizing he was pregnant, Chu Hanjin felt exasperated.

He lay back down, but the heat became unbearable. He tossed and turned until late into the night, frustrated enough to throw his fan to the floor.

Something was wrong.

His belly felt empty, and his spiritual energy was in turmoil.

As for why my spiritual energy is out of balance…

By now, Chu Hanjin was no longer panicking, but he was certainly furious. Grinding his teeth, he called out, “Yue Lin!”

No response.

“Yue Lin!!”

In an instant, a dark figure stepped through the doorway, crouching beside the bed and looking up at him. “Here, here.”

He seemed to have just woken up, likely because of some spiritual charm Yue Lin had set on him to respond to Chu Hanjin’s calls. His eyes were half-closed, still drowsy.

Chu Hanjin gripped the edge of the bed, closing his eyes. “I can’t sleep.”