Chu Binghuan and his group's original plan was to infiltrate secretly, but when Mu Qinian and the others brought people and attacked, the demonic cultivators of the Fen Qing Palace rushed to support, leaving the palace's defences very weak, which made their mission easier.

After learning that Hua Che was imprisoned in the water dungeon, Chu Binghuan had been distracted. Even the blind could see Chu Binghuan's concern, so Zhuang Tian, acting like a thoughtful master concerned about his disciple's lovesickness, said, "You go to the water dungeon to assist eighth brother. We will split into three groups."

Chu Binghuan looked back at Lin Yan, then at Mu Rongsa , and then at the second, third, fourth, and fifth senior brothers, feeling even more worried. "Will that be okay?"

Mu Rongsa  was displeased. "Hey, hey, hey, I'm in the top three after all. What kind of look is that?"

Chu Binghuan recalled that Mu Rongsa did indeed rank in the top three in the Martial Arts Tournament. Even if Lin Yan and the others were not very reliable, at least Mu Rongsa could assist.

Thinking this way, Chu Binghuan didn't want to delay any longer. He flew on his sword towards the central courtyard.

Although he had lived in this place for three years, after Hua Che became the Demon Lord, the latter had remodelled the Fen Qing Palace, demolishing and rebuilding all the halls and palaces, so Chu Binghuan was not very familiar with the current layout.

He was quite adept at dealing with illusion formations, using the map Hua Che had drawn to locate the central water dungeon. As he walked, he found himself in a forest of fiery red maple leaves, as red as blood.

Chu Binghuan felt a bit dazed.

He remembered that Hua Che had uprooted this entire maple grove and replaced it with a peach blossom forest, constructing a bamboo house deep within, identical to the one at Yuntian Shuijing.

When Hua Che had initially kidnapped him and brought him to the peach blossom forest, he had been stunned looking at the bamboo house hidden deep within.

Three hundred years ago, during the last Martial Arts Tournament Chu Binghuan participated in, he was eliminated in the first round in the Shangqing illusion realm, suffering severe backlash from the illusion that took him five years to recover from.

He had never shared the contents of that illusion with anyone.

Although Mei Cailian was very curious, she never forced him to divulge. To Mei Cailian, her son was so outstanding, pure-hearted, and focused that he couldn't possibly be troubled by an illusion. It must have been a flaw in the Shangqing illusion realm that caused Chu Binghuan's misfortune.

Only Chu Binghuan knew how shocked and captivated he was by the illusion, how it lingered in his mind even now.

Upon entering the illusion, the first thing he saw was Hua Che.

Hua Che wasn't dressed in the Shangqing disciple's robes but wore black, form-fitting attire, holding a long sword, appearing as an ordinary martial artist. He was sitting in a small courtyard with a peach tree planted there, and behind the tree were two simple brick houses, resembling a commoner's residence.

Looking at himself, he was dressed in plain white robes, holding a paper fan in his left hand and a scroll in his right. The calluses on his fingers from holding a pen were clearly visible.

He was a scholar, enduring ten years of hard study in hopes of passing the imperial examinations.

"Binghuan," Hua Che called out to him suddenly from the courtyard. Chu Binghuan snapped out of his daze and saw Hua Che enthusiastically running towards him.

Chu Binghuan, who usually disliked physical contact, surprisingly forgot to dodge and was embraced by Hua Che.

His body was warm, and his embrace was even more so, leaving Chu Binghuan stunned. He had never imagined that hugging Hua Che would feel like this.

Hua Che, smiling brightly, said, "I just returned from the army and caught two fish by the lake. I've just finished cooking them. Come in and have a taste."

Chu Binghuan had many questions he wanted to ask, but each time the words reached his lips, he swallowed them back down.

Hua Che was still Hua Che, but also different.

He was no longer a top disciple of Shangqing or a cultivator, but an ordinary young man in the mortal world, practicing martial arts and aspiring to become a military officer.

And he himself was no longer the young master of Yuntian Shuijing but a humble scholar, studying hard in hopes of passing the imperial examinations.

They had grown up together, their parents were friends, and they had been betrothed since childhood. It was only natural for them to marry now.

But being still young, they agreed to wait until they both achieved their goals and then pick an auspicious day to get married.

They lived like this for a long time. They were not yet a married couple; one lived in the east room, the other in the west room. Every night, Hua Che would stay in the east room, reluctant to leave, and Chu Binghuan had to coax and push him out repeatedly.

Hua Che would earnestly say, "I'm not doing anything. It's just cold in my room, and I want to warm up here."

Chu Binghuan didn't believe his nonsense.

Hua Che would say, "You just recovered from a cold yesterday and are still coughing today. I'm just worried you'll catch a chill. You shouldn't be reading so much; if you joined the army and practiced martial arts with me, you'd be much stronger."

Indeed, he felt a bit chilly. The family's supply of charcoal was running low, and they needed to use it sparingly.

Finally, after much persuasion, Hua Che got his way. Contentedly, he climbed into bed and shared the pillow with Chu Binghuan. Snuggled together like this, they didn't feel the chill at all.

Hua Che's body was much warmer than he had imagined.

Days passed calmly but comfortably. A year later, they achieved their desires; both excelled in civil and martial examinations, enjoying their well-deserved glory.

Soon after, as planned, they married.

On their wedding night, Huache felt a bit timid for the first time. Previously boastful, now facing reality, he became nervous.

Chu Binghuan couldn't resist teasing him: 'General Hua, where's your former bravado?'

Hua Che looked pitifully aggrieved: 'Lord Chu, please don't be too harsh on me.'

Too harsh?

Well, General Hua didn't get out of bed until the sun was high the next day.

Later, while practicing swordsmanship, Hua he grumbled under a peach blossom tree: 'Usually pretending to be frail and sickly, but when it comes to that, has the vitality of a bear. This general was actually handled like this by a scholar... Aiyo, my back, hiss...'

Chu Binghuan saw it all with suppressed laughter, enjoying the scene through the window.

Days passed, one after another, countless years.

People say there's a seven-year itch, but between them, such things didn't seem to exist. What's seven years? Seventy wouldn't be enough.

One day, sitting on a swing under the peach blossom tree, Hua Che hooked his neck, eyes full of loss: 'Ice Cube, have you ever thought about taking concubines?'

'What?'

Hua Che, who usually lacked seriousness, rarely asked so seriously: 'You're getting older too. Without offspring, it's not good.'

Instead of being moved by this, Chu Binghuan was irritated: 'I don't have offspring, do you?'

As punishment, Chu Binghuan carried him back to the room and gave him a thorough beating.

Two days, no getting out of bed.

Lying on the bed, Huache felt particularly depressed: 'I'm getting old, yet he’s still charging around like a bull. Ouch, it hurts!'

Ten years passed, twenty years passed, fifty years passed.

But he felt it wasn't enough; he wanted to spend his whole life like this with Hua Che.

Until a beam of light came through, the surroundings began to crumble, and the old person cuddling in his arms vanished. He reached out for Hua Che but was met with excruciating pain as his organs ruptured.

Like waking from a dream, as if in a different world.

Hua Che was calling him, shouting desperately. He saw Hua Che in Shangqing disciple's attire, heard numerous cultivators' voices clamouring around him.

He woke up from a dream.

That dream which trapped him, which made him sick and in love.

Turned out, he loved Hua Che so deeply.

It was just a pity that he awakened too late. Just as he woke up,' Hua Che had already left.

Clearly within reach, easily attainable, yet due to his foolishness, his ignorance, he missed the chance. Once he had gone far away, no matter what, he couldn't retrieve him.

The mystical legend of Water Jade Purple Mist wasn't false. After Hua Che's death, he immediately used Water Jade Purple Mist.

Though the legend may exaggerate, this substance couldn’t bring back the dead, yet it could gather the spirits of the deceased. Though only a little, for Chu Binghuan at that time, it was a great comfort.

He attempted to revive Hua Che. Who would have thought that they would be reborn together!

In his previous life, Hua Che was healthy, but now he was plagued with illness. Chu Binghuan didn't know if it was because in his previous life, the Water Jade Purple Mist took away a portion of his soul, causing Hua Che's current frailty.

If that was really the case...

Chu Binghuan bitterly smiled.

Once again, He had caused harm to Hua Che.

This was unnecessary, an unnecessary addition.

Chu Binghuan passed through the brilliantly red maple forest, more vivid than fresh blood. Looking from afar, by some twist of fate, he unintentionally arrived at the Fen Qing Palace.

Just as he was about to change course, he suddenly saw a figure descending from above, wielding a sword like the wind, leaping into the Fen Qing Palace in a few steps.

"Xie Wanting?" Chu Binghuan was momentarily stunned, feeling something was amiss. The three major sects hadn't yet attacked the Fen Qing Palace, so how did Master Xie silently come up here? Wasn't there any demonic cultivator blocking the way? If outsiders could easily ascend the Fen Qing Palace like this, what was the point of the Demon Lord's face?

After weighing his options, Chu Binghuan decided to follow up quietly, standing outside the main hall, secretly observing the movements inside.

Sure enough, it was Xie Wanting, with Yin Wuhui seated on the throne beside him.

They locked eyes, neither speaking, as if they were scrutinizing something, the tension in the air palpable.

"Coming to find me, what timing?" Finally, Yin Wuhui broke the silence.

Xie Wanting stared straight at him, saying, "There are matters I must ask you face-to-face."

 

Translator: DarNan