Liao Tingyan belatedly realized that someone had just confessed to her.

Saying things like “you are this way, and I am also this way,” when it should be the other way around. His meaning was clearly “Because I am this way, therefore you are also this way,” right? Truly a leader overflowing with confidence.

But other people’s boyfriends would speak words of love more tenderly. Not him—he spoke as if making a casual remark, his attitude far from proper.

After speaking, he didn’t even wait for her reaction before releasing her hand and directly rummaging through the pile of items she had taken out.

My only male friend? You’re not even giving me time to respond? —Although she hadn’t yet decided what to say, how could he deprive her of even the opportunity to speak?

Sima Jiao tapped on the streaming mirror, activating this spiritual tool that hadn’t been opened for over ten years. The product quality was quite good—it started up quickly and displayed images.

A fairyland of green mountains and clear waters appeared, with a group of albino animals drinking by an azure lake. Liao Tingyan was instantly interested and leaned in to look.

Sima Jiao handed her the mirror, “I made this for you before. You called it the ‘streaming mirror.'”

Liao Tingyan thought to herself that her previous life must have been quite nice if she had even started streaming. She watched for a while, unconsciously swiped, and the scene suddenly changed—the image abruptly transformed into a scorched wasteland. Black poles stood askew in the charred earth, each casual stake displaying one or two severed heads.

The human heads, weathered by wind, rain, and sun, emanated an eerie, malevolent aura. This sudden appearance of a massive graveyard created such a stark contrast with the previous fairyland scene that Liao Tingyan nearly threw the mirror away.

Sima Jiao calmly reached over and swiped, changing the image as he casually remarked, “Many of the places we chose back then are now destroyed. Nothing worth seeing. Next time I’ll find you some new locations.”

The next scene showed ruins of pavilions and towers, overgrown with weeds. Only from the fragments of exquisite murals and the barely discernible massive scale could one glimpse the former magnificence of this place.

Sima Jiao glanced at it, “Oh, this seems to be somewhere in the Gengchen Immortal Mansion. It’s become quite desolate.”

Liao Tingyan recalled news she had heard before in the marketplaces—that Sima Jiao, this Demon Lord, was formerly Immortal Lord Cizang, the founding ancestor of the Cultivation World’s premier Immortal Mansion.

It was said that he had turned demonic due to improper cultivation techniques, causing his nature to change drastically. He had slaughtered many cultivators of the Gengchen Immortal Mansion and destroyed its underground spirit veins, turning what was once heaven on earth, filled with spiritual energy, into a barren, charred wasteland where nothing grew.

Reportedly, the center of Gengchen Immortal Mansion once spanned a hundred li in all directions. Now, no one dared to set foot there. That enormous immortal mansion had quickly collapsed, fattening the rest of the cultivation world’s sects.

In recent years, the cultivation world was said to be in wild celebration, with joy spreading everywhere. Every sect had benefited to some extent, and several capable cultivation sects had plundered countless resources and treasures from Gengchen Immortal Mansion, becoming instantly wealthy. The sacrifice of one Gengchen Immortal Mansion had brought happiness to countless families.

Because this incident was so significant, related news had spread widely even in the Demon Realm, far from the Cultivation World. When Liao Tingyan previously worked at Rouge Platform, she had heard plenty of gossip about these matters, with all kinds of stories.

Some said that Gengchen Immortal Mansion was piled with corpses, with carrion birds circling overhead for years like dark clouds, making it more demonic than the Demon Realm itself. Others claimed that the great city of Gengchen Immortal Mansion had been destroyed, with countless magnificent palaces reduced to ashes.

Back then, Liao Tingyan thought these gossipmongers were exaggerating, but now it seemed… they hadn’t exaggerated at all. From what little she could see, just these few glimpses made the hair on the back of her neck stand up.

These days, every time she felt through daily interactions that Sima the Big Boss was a harmless cat, he would suddenly reveal his ferocious side, transforming into a divine-eyed tiger with eyes that changed into laser beams, sizzling.

Liao Tingyan imagined Sima Jiao bombing the imperial palace like a bomber aircraft, then glanced sideways at the real Sima Jiao beside her.

Sima Jiao seemed not to notice her small movements. Unhurried, he casually swiped the mirror surface a few more times. Liao Tingyan watched the succession of broken walls and ruins while listening to the culprit behind it all dispassionately commenting from behind: “It seems the Gengchen Immortal Mansion has indeed declined over these years. Even this large outer city has become so desolate… Hmm, they’ve hung the flags of Chishui Abyss here, not developing badly.”

“This used to be a music and dance hall you often watched. Every day, different performers would sing, dance, and play music. Now it seems they’ve changed businesses and converted it into an inn… Let me see, this is the White Emperor Mountain emblem.”

“This place is still here.”

The image stopped on a busy scene in a large kitchen.

The bombing aircraft in Liao Tingyan’s mind paused for a while. She held the streaming mirror and watched silently, unconsciously swallowing her saliva.

The homely atmosphere of the large kitchen was inviting and stimulated one’s appetite. Steamed meat just taken from the steamer basket was mixed with sauce—red meat with thick gravy. Some kind of roasted meat was sizzling, being torn into strips and sprinkled with unknown spice powder. Nearby, a serving boy sniffed the aroma and swallowed hard. There was also a clear sweet soup dotted with red, soft pastries and countless other dishes that looked delicious just by sight.

Liao Tingyan thought: “…” The food in the Demon Realm truly couldn’t compare to the Cultivation World’s.

As she was sighing, her attention was drawn to Sima Jiao beside her. He seemed uninterested in the bustling kitchen and delicious food, instead retrieving the wooden figurine No. 123 from the pile of miscellaneous items.

He tapped the wooden person’s forehead, and three small figures fell to the ground and grew larger, with round arms, round legs, and big round heads. One little fellow picked up a small mallet while huffing and puffing, then scurried around Liao Tingyan’s feet. Another sat right at Sima Jiao’s feet, looking up at the two of them with a mocking emoticon expression.

The third smiling-faced figure looked around, found Liao Tingyan’s plate of unshelled melon seeds, and placed it in front of the mocking-faced figure, who immediately began shelling the seeds.

The smiling-faced figure started organizing the messy pile that Liao Tingyan had taken out. When something rolled to Sima Jiao’s feet, it came over and tugged at his hem, retrieving the white jade medicine bottle and putting it away properly.

Sima Jiao seemed to find the mocking figure shelling melon seeds at his feet somewhat in the way, and gently kicked it with his toe, expressing the meaning “go shell elsewhere.”

Liao Tingyan pointed at the three small figures, somewhat guessing: “Did I make these…”

Sima Jiao pointed to two of them, “You created these.” Then pointing to the one at his feet, “I created this one.”

Oh, so we used to create people together.

Liao Tingyan watched this scene and strangely felt like she had been an abandoning scoundrel of a husband all these years.

“Can I ever recover my memories?” Liao Tingyan hesitantly asked. According to typical amnesia tropes, memories always returned—sometimes after hitting one’s head, sometimes after a life-or-death experience. Sooner or later they had to return, otherwise the plot wouldn’t be dramatic enough.

Sima Jiao’s hand paused as he sifted through the items, “Whether you remember or not doesn’t matter. It wasn’t a very long period, and there’s nothing too urgent that you need to remember.”

Fine then, whatever you say. Liao Tingyan relaxed a bit. If Sima the Big Boss had high expectations for her memory recovery, she would feel tremendous pressure.

Modern corporate slaves often couldn’t bear others’ expectations—it was too exhausting. Better to let nature take its course.

Liao Tingyan felt she couldn’t just put on pants and deny people because she couldn’t remember, so she had to take responsibility. She tried asking: “How did we interact before?” Just for reference.

Sima Jiao made a sound of acknowledgment, “Just like this.”

Liao Tingyan: “Just like this?”

Sima Jiao: “Just like this.”

Though Liao Tingyan maintained a serious expression, her mind was already wandering to less serious places. She cleared her throat, “Let me ask, did we, you know, do that?”

Sima Jiao, already knowing which “that” she meant, lounged on the nearby couch and deliberately asked lazily: “Which that?”

Liao Tingyan: “You know… that, premarital sexual behavior?”

Sima Jiao leaned back on the couch, blinking, “Yes, we did.”

Liao Tingyan: “Hiss—” No good, images were starting to form in her mind.

Sima Jiao: “Many times.”

Liao Tingyan: “Hiss—” The images in her mind uncontrollably started heading in a direction that would require censorship.

Sima Jiao: “Spiritual communion and dual cultivation together.”

Liao Tingyan: “Hiss—” The images became unimaginable and began to sway unstably.

Sima Jiao: “Now that you’re back, we should be as we were before.” He collapsed onto the couch, his black hair flowing like water beside the pillow, making a ‘you know what to do, come be like before’ gesture.

Liao Tingyan inhaled loudly: “Hiss—” The mental image turned into a censored exclamation mark.

Sima Jiao couldn’t hold back anymore. He turned his face slightly and began laughing, his whole body shaking, his chest vibrating. He lay there disheveled, his sleeves and robes hanging to the floor, one foot raised on the couch, one foot on the ground, his finger bent against his forehead.

That neck, those collarbones, that profile, that slender form—it inexplicably created an urge to pounce on him and roll around together.

“Come on,” Sima Jiao, having laughed enough, gazed at her, “Perfect timing to reinforce your Lianxu stage cultivation.”

Liao Tingyan: “Dual cultivation?”

Sima Jiao just smiled, watching her.

Liao Tingyan: “Wait a moment.”

She rummaged in her storage space for a while, looking for alcohol or something to boost her courage. After searching for some time, she finally found a jar in a corner, opened the red seal, and tried ladling out a spoonful to drink. It was spicy and unpleasant—alcohol. She drank two more spoonfuls. Seeing Sima Jiao watching her with a strange expression, she tried asking: “Do you want some?”

Sima Jiao glanced at her wine jar, “No, I don’t need to boost… yang.” His tone was peculiar, and as soon as he finished speaking, he burst into laughter, as if he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Liao Tingyan thought of something, turned over the bottom of the wine jar, and then froze at what she found.

Wait, why had she stored yang-boosting wine before? Wasn’t this something for men to drink? Her gaze involuntarily shifted to a certain part of Sima Jiao’s body.

A mental storm whirled—Do cultivators also have such hidden ailments? Oh no, have I discovered some terrible secret?

Sima Jiao gradually stopped laughing. He stared at her expressionlessly.

Liao Tingyan: “I’m sure this is a misunderstanding!”

And it truly was a misunderstanding. Previously, she had stockpiled a bit of everything, and this jar of wine was given by a shopkeeper after she bought a large quantity of fruit wine. In the end, all the sweet and sour fruit wine was consumed, leaving only this jar. When she discovered what it was, she tossed it into a corner, as she had no use for it anyway.

But now, who cared if it was a misunderstanding or not? Couples always need some misunderstandings.

Sima Jiao sat up, making as if to stand.

Most people, seeing this frightening scene, would back away or run quickly. Not Liao Tingyan—she abandoned her usual casualness, quickly stepped forward, pressed Sima Jiao back down with one hand, “Calm down, don’t be impulsive!” In her quick thinking during the crisis, she stuck a calming talisman on his forehead.

While doing this, Liao Tingyan felt a sense of déjà vu, as if she had done this before.

Sima Jiao coldly smiled and tore the calming talisman off his forehead.

…

When Liao Tingyan woke up, she saw a large patch of bamboo shadows outside the window and a branch of red maple leaves.

Were there bamboo and maple leaves outside the Winter City Imperial Palace? Probably not—it should be all white.

Liao Tingyan was startled and sat up in bed. She suspected she was hallucinating from exhaustion, but upon closer inspection realized that wasn’t the case—the elegant room before her was not the Winter City Imperial Palace.

She wore a thin silk robe, as light as if it weren’t there, clinging to her skin like flowing water. She stepped onto the floor and walked to the carved wooden lattice, seeing green bamboo, red maples, blue sky, white clouds, misty waters, and distant blue-green mountains, with a clear small lake below.

Where was this? She took out a mirror to look at her face.

It was still the same face, just with an added bite mark on her neck.

She leaned on the wooden railing to look outside when suddenly her foot was grabbed, and she fell forward into the water.

In the water was a pale-faced water ghost with black hair and black clothes. “Finally awake.”

Liao Tingyan wiped the water from her face and crawled toward the shore, only to be grabbed by the waist halfway and thrown back into the water.

“We’ll go up later,” said the water ghost.

Liao Tingyan sized him up, “Cats typically don’t like baths or being in water.”

Sima Jiao: “What do you mean?”

Liao Tingyan quickly changed the subject, “Where is this?”

Sima Jiao: “The villa with the big kitchen from the streaming mirror.”

Liao Tingyan: “…The Cultivation World?”

Sima Jiao: “Yes.”

Liao Tingyan: “Hiss—”