Shi Yan lay on the couch by the window, gazing at the snow-white buildings outside. The overwhelming whiteness—if only some blue could be painted on it, it would have a Mediterranean style, perhaps even resembling the famous blue-and-white town. As an unemployed vagrant who had lost her job, she could then enjoy an even stronger vacation feeling.
She thought aimlessly about various random things, enjoying the luxurious life of doing nothing but lying around and wasting time.
Suddenly, a black speck appeared in the distant sky. This black speck flew closer and closer, eventually landing on the carved wooden railing outside the window.
It was a small black bird, only the size of a palm. Its two beady eyes stared at Shi Yan as if examining her. Shi Yan and the bird looked at each other for a while, and she suspected she saw a hint of intelligence in those bird eyes.
She took a plate of melon seeds from a small table nearby. These things weren’t called “melon seeds” in the Demon Realm, but Shi Yan thought they looked and tasted very similar. After hearing this “Demon Lord’s Lady” call them melon seeds, they were renamed in Winter City to simply “melon seeds.”
Shi Yan cracked two melon seeds to feed the bird. The black bird’s beak pecked on the carved wooden railing, making a tapping sound. After it ate those two melon seeds, Shi Yan tried to touch its head, and it stayed still, allowing her to pet it.
Shi Yan cracked a small handful of melon seeds and fed the bird for a while. It seemed like an illusion, but she felt that after eating the small handful of melon seeds, the bird’s small body had become noticeably rounder. Suddenly, a pale hand reached out from behind her and grabbed the plump black bird.
Shi Yan turned around to see Sima Jiao pinching the black bird’s beak. Then the blackbird transformed into a cloud of black smoke in his palm, which then became a black piece of paper. On the paper were the melon seed kernels, no different from when the blackbird had eaten them.
Shi Yan vaguely saw two lines of writing on the paper surface, hidden under the pile of melon seed kernels.
Shi Yan: “…” So it was a carrier pigeon?
Sima Jiao swept the pile of melon seeds into his palm and opened his hand in front of Shi Yan while reading the piece of paper with his other hand. He said, “Magic sound bird, used for delivering messages and can also carry some small items.”
It had been obedient because it sensed his aura on Shi Yan, and it had eaten the melon seeds because it thought they were the “message” it was supposed to deliver.
Shi Yan silently ate the intact returned melon seed kernels. She thought to herself that this bird was impressive—even with her cultivation level, she hadn’t realized it wasn’t a real bird.
After reading the letter, Sima Jiao folded the black paper twice, somehow transforming it back into a blackbird, and placed it in Shi Yan’s palm.
“You like it? Keep it to play with.”
Shi Yan stroked the smooth feathers of the blackbird in her hand and squeezed its round plump belly, feeling the texture was somewhat wonderful, though unfortunately, it wasn’t a real bird.
“I’ll take you to see someone this afternoon,” Sima Jiao said after watching her play with the bird for a while.
“Oh,” Shi Yan responded very honestly, with the same attitude she had shown in front of Shi Qianlü.
Sima Jiao got up and left. But Shi Yan knew he hadn’t gone far, as if he was watching her from somewhere nearby, which made her think he was really like a cat, with habits of observing secretly. However, Sima Jiao concealed his aura very well, and Shi Yan didn’t know how she could accurately sense that he was nearby.
She pretended not to notice and continued holding the obedient little black bird until it automatically dissipated into a cloud of smoke when its time was up.
Then, after a little while, a flock of blackbirds flew past the window. These black birds stood out conspicuously in the white world, and they all seemed to have a purpose. After circling this level once, they landed at Shi Yan’s open window, almost filling the carved wooden railing outside.
They looked similar to pigeons, making cooing sounds, just a different color. This time Shi Yan observed and confirmed these were real birds. Honestly, she had been lying here for several days and hadn’t seen a single bird dare approach this Forbidden Palace where Sima Jiao resided. Now this flock suddenly appeared, probably not on their own.
Most likely, the great lord saw that she wanted to feed birds and sent a flock over for her to play with. In this regard, this Demon Realm great lord truly had an attentiveness completely at odds with his identity and reputation. Could such a majestic Demon Lord be so considerate?
Shi Yan’s guess wasn’t wrong. Down below the Forbidden Palace, a Demon General who could command demon beasts and fierce creatures was expressionlessly summoning harmless and cute birds from nearby. She, who had previously summoned ferocious man-eating beasts—whichever fierce creatures she liked to summon—was now summoning these little things for the first time in her life, which made her feel thoroughly uncomfortable.
But there was no choice. The Demon Lord had commanded, so she could only fucking do it.
Shi Yan fed birds all morning. By afternoon, she saw a group of people deliver something into the Forbidden Palace, after which Sima Jiao came to take her to see someone.
The person was someone familiar—her aunt Shi Qiandu whom she had met once before.
This aunt had been restrained, unable to move, injured, and glaring fiercely at them.
Real imprisonment: confined in a small space without personal freedom, no food or drink, and beaten badly, like Shi Qiandu. Fake imprisonment: able to go wherever she wanted, and eat whatever she wanted, with people going to great lengths to please her, like Shi Yan.
Shi Qiandu couldn’t speak, but everything she wanted to say was in her eyes. Shi Yan could see the word “traitor” written clearly in them. Shi Yan looked at this aunt with whom she had a superficial relationship and hesitantly glanced at Sima Jiao beside her. Although she didn’t say anything, Sima Jiao seemed to be angered. His anger was then vented on Shi Qiandu.
Sima Jiao violently grabbed Shi Qiandu’s forehead, revealing a faintly struggling halo of light. Shi Yan was startled, suspecting this was a person’s soul. She had been in this world for several years but this was the first time she had seen a real soul extracted from a human body, which shocked her in a way she hadn’t experienced for a long time.
Sima Jiao grabbed her hand and pressed it into that distorted light halo.
The words “soul search” came to Shi Yan’s mind, and she felt her perspective instantly change. Many scenes appeared around her like a revolving lantern, then quickly disappeared as if someone was rapidly flipping through them, soon stopping at one scene. Shi Yan found herself appearing in this scene.
It seemed to be in some palace with thousand-acre flower gardens outside. The interior was also magnificent. Some people surrounded her as if to capture her, and eventually, she was indeed captured, with Shi Qiandu being the one who acted.
They said that she, a mere woman, was of no use, and also that since she had been protected by Sima Jiao and brought back, she could threaten Sima Jiao. They easily took her away to a place called Taixuan Peak. Many people milled around before her eyes, and she also saw her elder brother Shi Zhenxu, who often gave her pocket money and was ordered to guard her.
They all called her Liao Tingyan, not Shi Yan.
The scene shifted, and Shi Yan saw Shi Qiandu arrive at a strange place, where she saw her father Shi Qianlü fighting with Sima Jiao. However, he was no match and was forced to retreat continuously. Fire was everywhere, with erupting magma filling the sky.
Sima Jiao taunted without restraint, but then Shi Qiandu’s words made him change his expression.
“That woman by your side is also on Taixuan Peak. If we die, she will die with us!”
Shi Qiandu’s laughter amid the apocalyptic explosions and scorched earth covered in magma was somewhat dazzling.
Shi Yan felt darkness before her eyes. When she regained consciousness, she was already being held in Sima Jiao’s arms, her head resting against his chest.
“Her cultivation is higher than yours. When I took you to search her soul, you could only endure brief scenes,” Sima Jiao said, his ice-cold fingers pressing against her temples, steadily supporting her head. Whatever he did, Shi Yan felt much better, and the headache gradually disappeared.
She emerged from Sima Jiao’s embrace to see Shi Qiandu with clouded eyes and drooling, seemingly having lost her mind.
The soul search technique was overbearing. Unless the practitioner’s cultivation far exceeded the subject’s, it couldn’t succeed. A slight carelessness could even result in backlash. Those who had their souls searched would become mentally challenged in minor cases or have their souls scattered in severe cases. But Shi Yan had never heard of being able to bring someone else along for a soul search—such an advanced operation was far too extraordinary!
“Do you believe me now?” Sima Jiao asked her.
Shi Yan nodded: “I believe I am Liao Tingyan now.”
She secretly breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness the irritable father Shi Qianlü, with whom she had lived for several years, wasn’t her real father. Thinking this way, the original Liao Tingyan wasn’t too pitiful either. At least her real father wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to use her as cannon fodder and constantly instilled hatred in her.
Sima Jiao looked at her for a long time, until Shi Yan felt goosebumps on her back. They left this place and walked along the corridor of the Forbidden Palace. Sima Jiao occasionally looked at her with a thoughtful expression: “You still don’t seem to believe you are Liao Tingyan.”
Liao Tingyan said seriously: “No, I truly believe I am Liao Tingyan now.” See, she had even changed how she referred to herself.
Sima Jiao suddenly smiled: “Of course, you are Liao Tingyan, but now I’m beginning to doubt whether Liao Tingyan is you.”
Liao Tingyan felt she shouldn’t understand this.
Sima Jiao: “Since I met you, you’ve been this way. No matter what name you go by, I wouldn’t misidentify you.” He suddenly sighed, “I won’t make a mistake because I’m smart, and as for you, it’s not surprising if you get confused.”
Liao Tingyan: “…” What the hell? Say that again and I’ll stop being this Liao Tingyan.
Sima Jiao: “Do you know why I won’t make a mistake?”
Liao Tingyan forced a smile: “Why?”
Sima Jiao acted as if he hadn’t heard her cursing him in her mind. He touched her forehead with a finger, his manner extremely matter-of-fact and arrogant: “Because we are dao partners, and this mark is in your divine soul. Who do you think I am? How could I misidentify a mere divine soul? Even if you’re in another body now, I can still recognize you.”
Liao Tingyan was stunned, feeling a bit panicked inside. What was that about souls? The body wasn’t hers, but the soul was—what did the great lord mean by saying this?
Sima Jiao, hearing her mentally shouting to stay calm and not panic, smiled even more meaningfully. “Why do you think you have no malice toward me? You should be able to feel that you subconsciously rely on me and feel close to me. Even before you knew the truth, your subconscious was more willing to believe me. Because in your spirit mansion, the flowers belonging to me are still blooming.”
Sima Jiao thought her current appearance somewhat resembled how she used to look after transforming into an otter and being suddenly grabbed by the back of the neck, frozen in that state.
Spirit mansion, divine soul—these basic concepts Liao Tingyan still understood. It was precisely because she understood that she began to feel things were not good. Had she been too presumptuous in assuming a clichéd amnesia substitute plot? In this high-magic fantasy world, the soul was more advanced than the body. This great lord had just nearly pulled someone’s soul out of their body with his bare hands. After witnessing this, she did not doubt that the great lord could also pull her soul out of her body.
Would such a great lord fail to notice that his girlfriend’s core had been replaced?
No, she couldn’t think further. If she continued thinking, she’d end up becoming single.
Sima Jiao smiled and wiped the sweat from her forehead, seemingly unintentionally placing his fingers on the back of her neck, asking her: “Are you feeling insecure?”
Liao Tingyan couldn’t even force a smile anymore. She did indeed feel somewhat insecure. As righteously as she had been mentally shouting “What does Liao Tingyan have to do with me, Zou Yan?” these past days, that’s how insecure she felt now.
She suddenly felt that the good food, drink, and sleep these past few days were Sima Jiao’s special provision to let her rest well, considering her difficult situation in enemy territory. Now that she had rested, he was going to settle accounts all at once.
Sima Jiao: “You’ve rested well these days, and there is indeed something that should be resolved now.”
Liao Tingyan’s heart jumped in alarm, thinking, sure enough!
Sima Jiao leaned closer to her, holding her shoulders, and said hoarsely in her ear: “Restore your cultivation for you.”
Liao Tingyan: “…” With such an ambiguous tone, she had thought of something not quite harmonious, like dual cultivation. Originally, according to the basic rules, healing often relied on dual cultivation—this was standard for fantasy world love stories!
But she wasn’t ready yet, the ultimate philosophical question of “Who am I?” hadn’t been resolved! Liao Tingyan’s mind stormed with healing images of naked bodies in flower fields with palms joined together. When she came back to her senses, she found Sima Jiao leaning against a nearby pillar, laughing hysterically.
Liao Tingyan: “…” This was the first time she realized her orientation and preferences might be of this type.
She nonchalantly imagined all sorts of yellow scenes along the way, listening to the mental male protagonist beside her burst into laughter every few steps, like someone with epilepsy.
In the end… healing wasn’t through dual cultivation but through taking medicine.
Sima Jiao sat across from her, arranging medicine bottles in three rows from high to low, saying: “Take them.”
Each bottle contained one pill, which when poured out looked like pearls infused with incense. Such large pills to swallow seemed like they could choke someone to death.
Liao Tingyan looked at the pile of medicine bottles, thinking that taking so many pills would be worse than dual cultivation.
Sima Jiao pushed over a bottle, letting it roll to Liao Tingyan, saying: “It’s sweet.”
This person, though not picky about food and liking to eat everything, absolutely wouldn’t eat bitter things. She was a lazy person who feared bitterness, pain, and fatigue.
Liao Tingyan: “…” Huh, as if fooling a child. Pills are all bitter. I’ve taken medicine these past few years too.
Sima Jiao pushed over another bottle, leisurely straightening his sleeves. “The highest-grade pills are all sweet.”
Is that so? Liao Tingyan was half skeptical, half believing as she tried one.
It was sweet!
What she didn’t know was that the top pill refiners of the Demon Realm, to satisfy the Demon Lord’s unreasonable demands, had worked to make these pills sweet in this short time, nearly worrying themselves bald.