“Alright, I must tell you, this child isn’t born from me.” Liao Tingyan tried to calmly reason with the sixteen-year-old Emperor.

His Majesty sat across from her, hearing this and coldly smirking, “Stop lying. This child’s face resembles mine, but his eyes look exactly like yours. What’s the point of denying it? Will your denial make this not exist?”

Liao Tingyan: Even if I don’t deny it, it still doesn’t exist!

The black snake Sisi sat between this Dao couple, resting on the table and swinging his legs, like a confused little boy caught in his parents’ divorce, uncertain about his future.

Liao Tingyan also fell into confusion, carefully examining the black snake’s face, thinking, do those eyes look like mine? I don’t see it at all. In the past when she returned home for New Year, she always heard that some cousin looked like her in some way, but she could never see the resemblance. At this moment, she couldn’t help doubting whether her eyesight was poor.

Could it be that everyone else sees it, and I’m the only one who doesn’t? She recalled how over the years, everyone in the Demon Realm never doubted her mother-son relationship with the black snake.

Liao Tingyan: “He was created by you alone.” Fed had too much blood and turned into a mutant snake, and then who knows what was done to make him able to transform into human form?

Sima Jiao: “Now you’re talking even more nonsense.” He faced Liao Tingyan with an expression of someone who possessed all the world’s truth, completely disbelieving her honest words.

Yes, in this world, truth is often harder to believe.

Whether it was the sixteen-year-old Emperor or the centuries-old Master Ancestor, they were the same—stubborn and self-centered, thinking they were the most formidable in the world while everyone else was a fool, only believing what they determined. For instance, when he previously determined he loved her, he gave her everything; now that he determined she was a demon, he wouldn’t listen no matter how she explained.

It was truly headache-inducing.

Just make do, what else could she do?

“Fine, I gave birth to him. He’s your child. Happy now?” Liao Tingyan didn’t want to explain anymore.

Sima Jiao replied as if he had expected this all along: “I told you you couldn’t fool me.” The young man looked quite pleased with himself.

Hey, how could this guy be so infuriating?

But looking at her Dao partner’s naive face that didn’t know its limits, Liao Tingyan laughed coldly in her heart. Fine, ancestor, keep believing that. Wait until your memories return, and see how you feel when you remember this episode. Can you hear the sound of slapping your face? Can you hear your own distant “it smells so good after all” admission?

I’ll be waiting.

Sima Jiao accepted the suddenly appearing son, and along with him, accepted Liao Tingyan’s pet fox that had been raised into a pig. Occasionally when lying together with her, he would also casually stroke the pig-fox’s fur, but what he loved most was caressing Liao Tingyan’s waist.

Before Liao Tingyan knew it, a month had passed, and her monthly spiritual flame irritability period arrived as scheduled, leaving her pale-faced with pain, collapsed motionless on the bed.

Sima Jiao discovered her unusual condition and sent for healers, but was stopped by Liao Tingyan grabbing his hand. “It’s useless. They won’t be able to see what’s wrong, nor can they alleviate it,” she said weakly, her eyes half-closed.

Seeing her like this, Sima Jiao couldn’t contain his irritation and anger. “What exactly is going on? What’s causing you to be like this?”

Liao Tingyan finally looked at him. “…I was injured before.”

Sima Jiao’s expression darkened, his tone carrying storm-like anger: “Who? Who hurt you?!”

Liao Tingyan suddenly squeezed his hand firmly. “It was you.”

Sima Jiao flatly denied: “Impossible.” He rejected the idea without even thinking, possessed by blind confidence that no one in this world would protect this woman before him as he would.

Liao Tingyan, suffering from the pain, recalled the monthly agony of these past years and the moment when she extracted Sima Jiao’s divine soul. With shock and anger in her heart, she took a breath and said: “You used to be extremely powerful. With your protection, no one could harm me, so the only one who could hurt me was you.”

“You killed me once.” Liao Tingyan’s tone was calm and ethereal, unlike her usual casual manner.

“Impossible,” Sima Jiao still insisted.

Liao Tingyan: “You were dying then, and you wanted me to die with you.”

Sima Jiao fell into silence, staring at Liao Tingyan’s pale face without a word. He hesitated because when he considered such a situation, he wasn’t certain whether he would do such a thing. In a sense, he was now a more readable version of his former self, so his hesitation suggested that he might indeed have thought about killing her.

Liao Tingyan realized she didn’t even feel afraid. Yes, this was truly Sima Jiao. But why did he choose to sacrifice himself to leave everything to her back then?

Sima Jiao leaned forward, cradling Liao Tingyan’s face. “You’re not lying to me?”

Liao Tingyan: “Seventeen years ago, you did indeed kill me once.”

This man, Sima Jiao, wouldn’t believe the truth, yet the lie she was telling now, he seemed to truly believe. Frowning, he held her, not knowing what to say, just slowly stroking her hair.

He gazed at Liao Tingyan’s current face, and suddenly a brief image appeared before his eyes—he was holding her in a jade-colored pool, his body seemingly burning, while she looked at him with tears in her eyes, shaking her head and shouting something, appearing on the verge of collapse. Compared to her usual casual demeanor, it was as if something had shattered in her eyes.

Sima Jiao was startled and pressed his tight chest.

What was that? A memory from his past?

Liao Tingyan grabbed Sima Jiao’s hand. Sima Jiao came back to himself, held her hand, and spoke in a much gentler tone, perhaps the most tender tone of his life: “Does it hurt?”

Liao Tingyan inhaled: “It hurts.”

“I’m in so much pain, Sima Jiao. It hurts so badly.”

It hadn’t hurt this much before. During the previous seventeen years when Sima Jiao was absent when those days came, she would find a pool to soak in. When the pain became severe, she would loudly curse Sima Jiao, feeling it wasn’t that unbearable. But now, with the culprit Sima Jiao right beside her, she suddenly felt exceptional pain, making her especially want Sima Jiao to share in her suffering.

She succeeded. When she used her weak tone to say she was in great pain, she saw Sima Jiao’s expression and felt for a moment that he also seemed to be in pain, his lips pressed together slightly in an unbearable manner.

At this point, her heart softened again.

Forget it, why deliberately trouble him? Sima Jiao was just this kind of person, and this sort of pain, perhaps in his hundreds of years of life, he had been enduring day and night. Unlike her who feared pain, wasn’t it because he had already become accustomed to it?

Liao Tingyan fell silent.

Sima Jiao, however, seemed even more unable to bear it. “What would help ease your pain?”

Liao Tingyan: “…Soaking in water would help a bit.”

It wouldn’t. She needed to soak in an icy spiritual pool, but such pools didn’t exist here. Moreover, a normal person’s body would be invaded by the cold near such spiritual pools. The current Sima Jiao couldn’t withstand that.

Hearing her say this, Sima Jiao carried her to a spring pool behind the Zi Quan Palace. He carried Liao Tingyan in, soaking himself along with her, brushing her forehead with his lips. “Do you feel any better?”

Liao Tingyan leaned against his youthful embrace, sniffled, and continued to deceive him. “A little better.”

The spring water was clear, their robes intertwining in the water. Amidst the fine pain throughout her body, Liao Tingyan recalled many past events. It seemed only the stimulation of pain could help her gradually recover lost memories.

She remembered when they were at Gengchen Immortal Mansion, how Sima Jiao also loved to soak in water. She recalled that initially, he soaked in cold pools—so cold that even she couldn’t bear them. But later, imperceptibly, he began to simply find any pool to soak in.

Why? It seemed because at that time, no matter where Sima Jiao was soaking, he wanted her to accompany him. Was it because she couldn’t stand the cold pools, so he merely found ordinary pools to soak in?

After many years, Liao Tingyan suddenly understood the Sima Jiao who had gazed at her by the summer mountain stream. Were his feelings then the same as hers now?

Perhaps at that time, he was also enduring pain a hundred times worse than hers today, yet he could still lean there without showing the slightest sign, smiling at her and reaching out his hand to say: “Come here.” So calm that she felt it was just a pleasant and lazy afternoon nap, an ordinary and comfortable time.

Back then, their pain was not mutually understood.

The Sima Jiao from her memories suddenly vanished. The current young Sima Jiao, who remembered nothing, was silently wiping the tears that had fallen on her cheeks without her noticing.

“Does it hurt that much?”

His brows remained furrowed as he carefully wiped away her tears, then kissed her eyes, full of tenderness. He was merely a youth, supposedly a tyrant who didn’t know what compassion was.

Liao Tingyan gasped, tilting her head to find his lips.

Sima Jiao brushed away the wet hair clinging to her cheeks, cradling her head to kiss her. Liao Tingyan wrapped her arms around Sima Jiao’s neck, holding his back. He held her against the pool wall, their hair floating in the water, his hands slowly caressing her back.

Liao Tingyan suddenly felt the stinging pain caused by the spiritual flame in her body ease somewhat. She broke away from Sima Jiao’s lips, resting her head on his shoulder to catch her breath. “I feel better now.”

“Mm.” Sima Jiao turned his head to kiss her neck, nuzzling her earlobe with his nose.

Liao Tingyan: “It seems like after kissing, it doesn’t hurt as much as before.”

Sima Jiao pondered for a moment, then began to undo her clothes.

Liao Tingyan: “Wait.”

Liao Tingyan: “I’m still in pain, let go.”

Sima Jiao: “Let me try. Be good, don’t make a fuss.”

Liao Tingyan: “I won’t try! Even if I, Liao Tingyan, die of pain, die right here, I won’t do this!”

…

Liao Tingyan: “Are you in pain too?”

Sima Jiao: “…”

Liao Tingyan: “Then let’s forget it? We used to… you didn’t seem to be in pain back then. Or is it because you’re too young now…”

Sima Jiao pinched the back of her neck. “Shut up.”

Liao Tingyan: “Puhahahahaha~”

But Sima Jiao wasn’t angered or embarrassed by her laughter. He watched her laugh, his brows relaxing slightly, his face showing a hint of a smile. He held her tightly as he shifted positions, his thumb wiping her eyes. “Is it less painful than before?”

It did seem truly effective; the spiritual flame had been soothed by Sima Jiao.

Liao Tingyan realized she had just been seduced by his beauty and couldn’t control herself, suddenly feeling somewhat ashamed. She covered her face, then simply rested her forehead against Sima Jiao’s shoulder. Sima Jiao laughed softly in her ear, a gentle, soothing sound.

They were like two strands of swaying aquatic plants in the water, silently and tenderly entangled.

“You love me deeply.” In her daze, Liao Tingyan heard Sima Jiao say this as he pressed her head tightly against his chest.

Liao Tingyan, with her eyes closed, held him as well, softly humming in agreement.

If I didn’t love you, I would be happy anywhere.

But if I didn’t love you, I wouldn’t be this happy anywhere.

…

The ministers had been arguing for half the day without hearing a word from His Majesty at the head seat. Everyone simultaneously stopped and looked up, discovering he hadn’t been listening to them at all. Although His Majesty didn’t usually pay much attention to what they said, appearing quite casual, today he was daydreaming. With one hand at his nose, lightly pinching, lost in thought about something, his face revealed a rare genuine smile.

He didn’t look like the Emperor who would kill people when in a bad mood, but rather like a youth thinking of his beloved.

The ministers: …Shock!!!

Sima Jiao noticed their ghostly expressions and simply stood up. “Handle it yourselves. I’m going to the Summer Palace to escape the heat.”

He took the heat-averse, water-loving Noble Consort to the Summer Palace. The ministers who had been lavishing him with praise for a long time once again became distressed: His Majesty has been bewitched by beauty! There’s no hope! The country will surely perish!