The steam from the wooden basin swirled in the air.

Chu Hanjin sat firmly, as steady as a mountain, while Yue Lin squatted before him.

Yue Lin’s voice was barely audible. If Chu Hanjin refused again, it would seem as if he was being unreasonable. Besides, it wasn’t just about his own body; there was also the child in his belly to consider.

After thinking it over, Chu Hanjin gently lifted the hem of his robe and said, “Alright, I’ll trouble you to check if it’s swollen.”

Yue Lin removed Chu Hanjin’s shoes and socks, revealing a long, slender foot. Pale and delicate, the nails were tinged with a faint pink, with a few veins showing through the skin, highlighting the defined bones, as if carved from jade—a beautiful object.

Yue Lin’s lips unknowingly curved into a slight smile.

This Immortal Lord, fully dressed, was an unapproachable and imposing figure like a banished immortal. But once undressed, he looked like an exquisitely sculpted, alluring jade Buddha.

Chu Hanjin, completely unaware of Yue Lin’s thoughts, nodded routinely, his expression serious. “Is it swollen?”

Yue Lin pressed lightly along his calf down to the arch of his foot, gently placing it into the warm water. “It doesn’t seem swollen.”

“…?” The warmth of the water seeped through Chu Hanjin’s skin, and he said, “There’s no need—”

But Yue Lin lightly pinched his toes.

—No need to wash my feet.

The words caught in his throat.

Yue Lin’s fingertips slid from the top of Chu Hanjin’s foot to his toes, scooping warm water over them, the textures of their skin brushing against each other. His movements were slow and gentle, creating a subtle tingling sensation where their fingers met.

Chu Hanjin shielded himself with Yue Lin’s shoulder and finished his sentence, “There’s no need to wash my feet.”

Yue Lin smiled softly, not letting go. “It’s alright. In the future, when bending over becomes difficult for you, I’ll wash them for you anyway. You might as well get used to it now.”

“…” He’s reversing roles again, isn’t he?

Chu Hanjin suppressed his discomfort and said, “I’d rather do it myself. Serving others is beneath you. You shouldn’t lower yourself.”

Yue Lin smiled without loosening his grip. “In an ordinary household, it’s not uncommon for a husband to wash his wife’s feet. How does that make me lower myself? If I didn’t care about you, then sure, I’d feel humiliated. But you’re the person closest to my heart, and you’re carrying our child. Isn’t it only natural for me to wash your feet?”

Chu Hanjin: “…”

“Don’t feel burdened.” After saying this, Yue Lin placed Chu Hanjin’s pale feet back into the basin.

His palm slid across the arch of the foot, down to the toes, gently massaging each one, rubbing them slowly in the water.

Usually, when Chu Hanjin washed his feet, he liked the water scalding hot, so hot it made his soles tingle pleasantly. Now, under Yue Lin’s touch, the sensation was different—his feet felt a strange tickling pleasure. The light brush of Yue Lin’s fingers between his toes sent a tingling feeling straight to Chu Hanjin’s head, making his white feet twitch involuntarily.

Yue Lin asked, “What’s wrong?”

How strange.

Chu Hanjin calmly replied, “…Nothing.”

His toes continued to be kneaded.

Yue Lin’s hands were beautiful, with long, defined fingers that danced among Chu Hanjin’s pale toes like someone playing a graceful, slender ancient zither.

As the water cooled, the strange tingling sensation became even more pronounced. Yue Lin’s fingers slid lightly between his tender toes, making the itch almost unbearable. Chu Hanjin couldn’t help but let out a soft, involuntary “mm.”

The sound was barely audible, just a light sigh.

Yue Lin paused and looked up at him.

Chu Hanjin: “…”

What?

What’s happening??

Yue Lin looked slightly surprised, and in that instant, Chu Hanjin remembered that this sound was eerily similar to the sigh Yue Lin had drawn from him the other day, pressed against the rose wall…

It was a sound people made when they were intimate.

“………”

“???????”

Chu Hanjin’s elegant brows furrowed, and though he tried to appear calm, there was a faint trace of panic on his face.

He quickly pulled his white feet from the water and said hastily, “No more.”

Yue Lin chuckled softly and said nothing, reaching for a clean towel. “Alright, no more. Let me dry them for you.”

Though Chu Hanjin found the situation increasingly awkward, Yue Lin’s hands were quick and deft, wrapping his feet in the towel. The feeling of being held so gently was unsettling, making Chu Hanjin want to kick out.

“Don’t move.”

Yue Lin, as if holding two wriggling fish, firmly grasped his feet.

With a warm voice, he said, “If you don’t dry your feet after washing, moisture can settle in and make you cold at night. Just wait a bit.”

Yue Lin’s movements were unhurried, even seeming to playfully drag the task out. Only after thoroughly drying them did he finally place Chu Hanjin’s feet back on the bed. “All done.”

“…”

Chu Hanjin couldn’t shake the feeling that Yue Lin was up to something.

But Yue Lin, with his lazy, good-natured expression, gave no room for complaint.

Chu Hanjin stiffly muttered a “thank you” and pulled the blanket over himself.

The room had only one bed.

It was obvious they were going to sleep together.

When Yue Lin opened the door, Aunt Yu entered to take away the basin. Yue Lin washed his hands, and when he turned around, he saw Chu Hanjin staring at him with a serious expression.

Yue Lin asked, “What’s wrong?”

Chu Hanjin, without any expression, asked, “Do you sleep well?”

Yue Lin replied, “I sleep decently.”

Chu Hanjin pointed his chin toward the bed. “If not, I won’t be able to sleep.”

“…” Yue Lin was silent for a moment.

Wasn’t this a bit insulting?

They had slept together countless times.

Did Chu Hanjin not know his sleeping habits by now?

From outside, the soft melody of a lullaby drifted in, with Aunt Yu rocking little Ayu to sleep, her gentle words coaxing the child.

Little Ayu giggled, clinging to her grandmother’s shoulders.

Watching this scene of family warmth, Chu Hanjin let out a quiet sigh.

Yue Lin, his face dimly lit by the flickering lamplight, asked, “What are you thinking about?”

The night was deep, and the lamp’s flame flickered faintly.

Chu Hanjin’s mind wandered back to his childhood. His mother would sing to him by the stream, peeling lotus seeds for him when he was hungry. The cool, refreshing taste had been just perfect. Her voice had been sweet and clear, so beautiful that the aunts had all praised her.

But over twenty years ago, during the great war between the immortals and demons, both his parents had died. At the time, Chu Hanjin had been just a child, like many other orphans who had lost their families, left to struggle and grow up under the protection of the Rongku Sect.

From that moment on, aside from his senior brother, he had been alone. Moonlight Palace was cold and empty, and no one had sung to him again.

Chu Hanjin lowered his eyelashes and blew out the lamp. “It’s nothing.”

In this household, even a little lamp oil was precious, so he made sure to save it for them. As darkness fell, Yue Lin’s voice came softly, “You always needed me to play a tune for you to fall asleep. ‘Miscellaneous Flowers Among the Trees’—I learned it back then just for you.”

His voice was low, but clear.

Chu Hanjin froze for a moment.

Was this the same song Yue Lin had played at the spring feast?

Had he learned it for him?

Yue Lin seemed to catch the surprise in Chu Hanjin’s eyes and let out a soft snicker. “I hate it when you act like a stranger with me.”

“…”

Just as Chu Hanjin was about to respond, Yue Lin suddenly placed a hand on his shoulder, pushing him down.

“Someone’s here.”

Yue Lin’s voice was cautious and low, shattering Chu Hanjin’s thoughts.

From outside came the sound of swords slicing through the air, mixed with hurried footsteps.

In the dark, a few scattered lights appeared, gradually expanding into a group of torches. Beneath them was a group of robed cultivators, weapons at the ready, rushing toward them.

“Is it here?” someone asked.

Another voice replied, “Yes, this is the place! Junior Brother disappeared here, and all we found was a corpse. These treacherous peasants must have killed him!”

That person shouted, “Come out, everyone!”

The village doors creaked open, but many were still asleep. A cultivator set the wooden gate ablaze, and in the fiery glow, he bellowed in fury, “Where are they? Get out here, all of you!”

Chu Hanjin heard Aunt Yu and the old man opening their door.

“Immortal masters! We’re here, we’re here!”

“Immortal masters! What brings you here at this late hour? Do you have any instructions for us?”

The villagers gathered at the entrance of the village.

Chu Hanjin watched the chaotic scene, contemplating, “Is this still an illusion?”

“It should be.”

Yue Lin leaned against the window, his eyes shaded in darkness as he looked out toward the gathering crowd.

Chu Hanjin’s attention was drawn back by the angry shouts.

“Three days ago, my junior brother came to Fu Ling Village to gather intelligence. He was supposed to return in the afternoon, but we haven’t seen him since. Tell me, did you tip off that demon to capture him for a reward?!”

The villagers cried out, “No, we wouldn’t dare, Immortal masters! We wouldn’t dare!”

“Wouldn’t dare?! You filthy peasants, always treacherous and deceitful, willing to do anything for your own gain! You helped that demon and caused my junior brother’s death! Well, now it’s time for you to pay! Blood for blood—you’ll all be buried with him!”

“We didn’t capture him! If we’re lying, may a bolt of lightning strike us dead!”

The firelight illuminated both sides.

One side was filled with righteous anger, the other with fear and trembling.

“No need for lightning,” the cultivator said coldly, “I’ll make you pay right now!” He slammed his hand onto the ground, and in the fiery light, a spinning sword formation appeared beneath him.

Sharp blades glinted, dazzlingly white.

With a piercing shriek, the sword tips pointed toward each villager’s face.

Their expressions were lit up, eyes full of despair.

“We didn’t betray him!”

“It wasn’t us, Immortal master!”

“Slash!”

“Ahhh—”

Sharp swords plunged into flesh.

The blades cut through skin, muscle, and bone.

“Spare us, Immortal master!”

“Mother… Mother! Aaaahhhh, Mother…”

“I don’t want to die… Nooo, ahhh—”

The fire blazed toward the sky, blood spraying everywhere, painting the heavens crimson.

Ayu wept over her mother’s lifeless body, having just begged for a scallion pancake. Now, a sword had pierced her, and she lay crumpled on the ground, lifeless.

…

This is an illusion.

This is an illusion.

This is an illusion.

Repeating it to himself three times, Chu Hanjin barely managed to restrain his anger.

The bloody slaughter unfolding before him was a travesty, a crime against heaven and earth.

The cultivators, after slaughtering the villagers, simply left.

The blood soaked into the ground, staining their shoes, leaving red footprints with every step.

Chu Hanjin turned back and saw Yue Lin standing quietly in the straw hut, looking at a chipped enamel bowl on the table. Inside the bowl were cold, fried scallion pancakes. Ayu had been saving a piece for breakfast the next day.

But now, she, her mother, her grandfather, and everyone in the village were dead before dawn.

Snow began to fall.

The flakes drifted down, covering the cold corpses.

As always, cultivators killed with such reckless abandon, wiping out everything, even down to the pigs and dogs.

The snowflakes landed on Yue Lin’s jet-black hair. His eyes, like extinguished stars, scanned the field of the dead in silence. Then, he walked toward an old, abandoned temple not far away.

He pushed open the door with a “clatter” and rummaged behind a dusty, clay deity, pulling out a piece of dark-colored cloth.

It was a corpse.

The dead body wore a robe identical to those worn by the cultivators who had just committed the slaughter, but this person looked younger. He had already died, his chest pierced by a sword, the wound jagged and severe.

Chu Hanjin seemed to understand. “This is that cultivator’s junior brother?”

“Yes,” Yue Lin replied.

So, the young cultivator had indeed died in the village. The man earlier must have had solid evidence and came seeking revenge… but the culprits might not have been the villagers at all.

Suddenly, Chu Hanjin realized something, a chill crawling up his spine.

He heard a faint “crack.”

It was the sound of a shoe stepping on stone.

Slowly turning his head, Chu Hanjin looked straight at Yue Lin, who was just a few steps away, his gaze sharp and unwavering. His eyes seemed to be staring at a stranger. “…How did you know there was a body in the temple?”

The air became deathly silent.

Yue Lin looked down, silent.

His expression was shadowed, his eyes hidden by a lock of hair, as he gently wiped the blood from his fingertips.

Then, he slowly raised his head and met Chu Hanjin’s gaze.

“Because,” his voice was calm, “I was the one who killed him.”

Hearing those words, half of Chu Hanjin’s body went cold. The person standing before him no longer seemed like Yue Lin, but rather a demon from the depths of hell.

“You killed him, then dumped the body in this village?”

Yue Lin: “Yes.”

A surge of rage rose in Chu Hanjin’s chest. “And then! His comrades came seeking revenge, assuming the villagers had betrayed them, and massacred the entire village. All of this…” his voice faltered, “…all of this happened because you left the body here, shifting the blame… You caused the deaths of these villagers.”

Yue Lin’s eyes flickered with a mad crimson light, as if he too had just realized the truth. “I remember now. It was all my fault.”

“Yue Lin!!!!” Chu Hanjin ground his teeth in fury.

Yue Lin glanced around, saying, “Now I understand the purpose of this illusion.”

When it came to killing, no one in the cultivation world could surpass Yue Lin’s ruthlessness. Those who had fought him knew that ordinary illusions couldn’t harm him in the slightest, so they must have devised this strategy…

They wanted Yue Lin to witness the consequences of his past wrongs, to see the lives destroyed by his actions, the families torn apart, the suffering he had caused…

They wanted him to confront his sins.

Chu Hanjin shouted angrily, “Explain this to me!”

Yue Lin replied, “How can I explain?”

In an instant, the dilapidated temple crumbled, the ground splitting open. Tall pillars and walls rose from the earth, forming a vast, pitch-black palace. After a shrill crow’s caw, a towering throne, overgrown with thorns and vines, emerged from the depths of the floor. It was dilapidated and decayed.

Chu Hanjin didn’t recognize it, but Yue Lin did. This was the palace he inherited as the Demon Lord.

“Do you see?” Yue Lin muttered, “That man had one leg broken. He asked me why it had to be his leg. He used to run errands for the village, delivering salt and letters. Everyone liked him. But when my sword qi sliced through his leg, it snapped with a ‘crack,’ as easily as breaking a twig. After that, he became a cripple, his wound festering, and no one liked him anymore…”

The space before them was empty, but Yue Lin’s eyes were wide, staring at something invisible.

Chu Hanjin grabbed his wrist, sensing a chaotic surge of spiritual energy. It was coursing through Yue Lin’s veins in disarray, threatening to tear him apart.

—This was a sign of losing one’s mind and falling into demonic cultivation.

“Yue Lin!” Chu Hanjin called out, “Don’t do this.”

Yue Lin’s eyes were still clouded with bloodshot red, his voice low and strained:

“The bride and groom were also killed because of me. I sent him to war, and he died before his wedding. His fiancée couldn’t bear it and hanged herself…”

His Adam’s apple bobbed gently as he spoke, his voice like mist, wrapping around Chu Hanjin’s throat.

Chu Hanjin gritted his teeth, “No matter your sins, I want you to confess them clearly outside of this illusion! Not now, when your mind is clouded, and you can’t tell what’s real!”

Yue Lin seemed not to hear him. “It was all my fault.”

“They’re coming…”

He looked toward an empty spot in the air.

“Fengxue City was under siege for days, food and supplies exhausted, but the people refused to surrender, reinforcing the barriers. They were bombarded for three days and nights, and even the ground was stripped bare, the entire city perished…”

“Madam Zhang played with her daughter in the courtyard, a firebomb fell from the sky, and the entire city burned to ashes. After the war, they found her clutching her child’s charred remains…”

“The Chang clan of the Southern Mountains, fearing execution after their failed strategy, took their own lives…”

He continued, his eyes clouding with a white haze, as red veins spread toward his brain: “I owe so many lives…”

Chu Hanjin, seething with anger, shouted, “What are you even talking about?!”

At this moment, Chu Hanjin couldn’t be sure whether Yue Lin had fallen into another illusion or if these events had actually occurred. But this descent into madness wasn’t right.

He gripped Yue Lin’s wrist tightly, pulling him back, “Come out with me!”

He had no choice but to break through the barrier by force.

Just as he prepared to shatter it, the entire landscape began to tremble. In an instant, the black walls collapsed in on themselves, crashing down around them—

Everything went black, and Chu Hanjin couldn’t hear anything, falling into a deep, indescribable silence—

…

…

…

Darkness, utter darkness.

When Chu Hanjin finally managed to get up, his hands touched something cold and sticky. It seemed like someone was lying beside him.

As he lifted his head, “thud.”

His head hit something hard, echoing with a “thump, thump”—it sounded like wood.

It felt like…

He was inside a sealed coffin.