Thus, amidst the deep confusion of Langmuir and many demons, the army returned to the royal court.
The Holy Monarch, who was still recovering from his injuries, moved directly into the palace, carried in by the Demon King himself.
While Langmuir was still weak and asleep, Hun Yao efficiently dismissed his old bed companions and rearranged the palace to suit human habitation.
When Langmuir woke up, what awaited him was a freshly cooked sweet porridge and medicine, a cotton quilt, and a fire stone stove.
“…Demon King,” Langmuir said with difficulty, “You at least owe me an explanation.”
“Tsk, you really don’t understand the rules. Does a master need to explain to his slave when dealing with him?”
“…Do you think I’m easy to deceive?”
Hun Yao just laughed maliciously, stuffing a medicinal pill into his mouth. “Finally figured it out?”
Langmuir bit the pill, glaring a bit angrily at the demon in front of him. Hun Yao pinched his face, grinning, “Be good, just a joke.”
The Demon King was reckless, becoming more and more neurotic over the days—for example, in addressing the Holy Monarch, sometimes he called him “Langmuir”, sometimes “Your Majesty”, and sometimes casually called him “be good”.
“Turn around, let me see your wound.”
Langmuir sighed, turned around on the bed, presenting his back to his former enemy.
And Hun Yao bent over, carefully unwrapping the thin cloth bandaging Langmuir’s wound, cleaning and medicating it, then wrapping it anew. Human self-healing abilities were not comparable to demons, and now that Langmuir had not transformed into a demon, he needed to be cared for even more diligently.
“Looking at it, it seems to be healing well,” Hun Yao lightly touched it through the thin cloth, “How is it, does the wound still hurt, is the demonic breath still invading? Can you sleep at night?”
“I’m much better, it’s not uncomfortable anymore.”
Langmuir lowered his eyes to look at his own hands and feet, where beautiful silver bracelets were hung. In addition to his deep Mana resisting the demonic breath, and the witch doctor coming to treat him every day, he really wasn’t in much pain these past few days.
“But why…why do you always personally…”
“What I mean is, as the Demon King of the Abyss, aren’t you busy?”
His Majesty the Holy Monarch was well-mannered, tactfully phrasing “Don’t you have anything else to do?” in such a way.
Hun Yao thought for a moment and promised to take him to see the affairs of the royal court the next day.
…….
Having just experienced a great war between humans and demons, the first winter for the royal court was not peaceful. Rebellions, assassinations…they were endless.
But Hun Yao had already experienced being a demon once, handling things as easily as chopping vegetables, much more adept than before, so of course he wasn’t busy.
The prisoners who had caused the conflict between him and Langmuir were not slaughtered, because even the rebellion itself didn’t get a chance to break out.
During the suppression of the rebellion, Hun Yao deliberately kept Langmuir by his side, pretending to “anticipate the enemy’s moves,” and thoroughly enjoyed the look of astonishment on the young Holy Monarch’s face.
“Your Majesty, am I not very impressive?”
“You are very impressive.”
After it was over, Hun Yao carried Langmuir all the way back to the palace.
He always liked to hold him, the Demon King could lift the human with one arm, either putting him on his shoulder or letting him sit on his scaly tail.
What a good life this was. Hun Yao thought contentedly, what should I do tonight?
Should I tell Langmuir a story, or accompany the human in making bone ornaments, or sing a sacrificial song?
“…But.” Langmuir looked down, his face was a bit more flushed, but there was a cloud of worry between his brows and eyes, “I know you’re hiding something important from me.”
Seeing him like this, Hun Yao sighed inwardly.
Sure enough, he couldn’t be fooled. Dragging it out for a while wouldn’t work forever, he still had to think of a way to completely resolve the knot in Langmuir’s heart.
“How is your Mana recovery?” he asked.
“Mana?” Langmuir came back to his senses, “It can be used normally now.”
“Good. After we go back, show me your healing magic tonight.”
Langmuir’s eyes brightened, seeming to feel that he was finally going to be useful. “No problem, who needs healing?”
“Nonsense, of course it’s you.” Hun Yao flicked his tail, patting his waist, “With you looking so sickly, what can you do?”
“Once you’re better, I’m going to start using you officially. Then you’ll know why I’ve been treating you so well these days.”
His Majesty the Holy Monarch’s healing magic was famous among humans, but unfortunately, Langmuir had his Mana taken away as soon as he descended into the Abyss, and Hun Yao hadn’t had a chance to see it.
That night, he finally saw with his own eyes the soft golden light rising from Langmuir’s palm, like a lotus slowly blooming in the night.
Langmuir looked deeply at Hun Yao, but he didn’t apply the healing magic to himself first, instead he walked over, stretched out his arms, and sent that ball of magic light to the Demon King’s broken horn.
“You…!”
“This right horn,” Langmuir gently held that old wound with both hands, his expression complex, “Whenever it’s cold, it’s always much colder than the left horn. After so many years…does it still hurt?”
Hun Yao was taken aback. “When did you touch my horn!?”
Langmuir: “Once when you were holding me in your sleep…I woke up at night and touched it quietly.”
Hun Yao pursed his lips, his face suddenly strangely hot—
Damn it, he was the one who had been reborn, and yet he was made to blush and have a racing heart by a lover who was psychologically ten years younger than him. Was this even okay?!
It was all because he was too familiar with Langmuir, he could completely imagine the scene at that time: the young and innocent blond Holy Monarch, perhaps out of a bit of curiosity, perhaps more out of guilt, secretly reaching out to his broken horn in the night. He must have been as cute as a kitten.
“Cough,” Langmuir’s gaze suddenly looked down, “That, your tail…?”
Hun Yao’s mouth twitched, good, even the tail started to sway uncontrollably.
The Holy Monarch was still asking what it meant for a demon to wag its tail, he said ‘dogs wag their tails when they are happy, cats wag their tails when they are angry’.
The Demon King didn’t want to admit that he was a big dog, so he simply grabbed Langmuir’s hand and pressed the healing magic onto the Holy Monarch’s own heart.
“What exactly do you want to use me for?” Langmuir said, “Look, I’m already healed.”
“No, Duogu said you’re not yet.”
“You always scare him, he’s afraid of taking responsibility, of course he would say no.”
They ground each other down with one sentence after another, in the Abyss where winter was approaching, in the palace where there was no one at night, they were not like enemies, not like master and slave, just like old friends, even like a couple.
“Alright,” finally Hun Yao compromised first, “Then I’m going to start taking revenge on you. You can only nod to this, you’re not allowed to resist.”
Langmuir blinked.
Hun Yao slowly walked a few steps, looking at his expression, he was deliberating his words, soon he opened his mouth, first calling out. “Your Majesty the Holy Monarch.”
“…The hatred between demons and humans has lasted for two hundred years, the ashes of the dead could pile up into a mountain. I think you should also know that the two races are now in a fight to the death.”
Langmuir looked up in surprise, he never expected that the Demon King would bring up such a big topic as soon as he opened his mouth.
The Holy Monarch couldn’t help but become solemn, whispering. “Yes.”
“But actually,” the Demon King looked at him out of the corner of his eye, slowly saying, “Demons and humans don’t necessarily have to kill each other, don’t you think?”
“Two hundred years ago, on the former land of Gasuo, the people were completely self-sufficient. Now the demons are invading human land, for survival, not for greed. As long as we can open the barrier on top of the Abyss, and find a way to purify the miasma, the demons on the brink of extinction can be saved, and humans will never be troubled by war.”
“This is the first purpose of me bringing you down to the Abyss. Your Majesty the Holy Monarch, I want to ask you, to open the barrier of Gasuo for the demons, and find a way to purify the miasma on this land.”
“As for the second purpose, it’s incidental, depending on your feelings. Specifically, the relationship between the two races has already become so tense, in order to bridge the hatred, I think some measures should be taken.”
“So, cough…”
Hun Yao exhaled, then slowly inhaled, becoming inexplicably nervous, “Can you…marry me, become my queen? Yes, this is called a marriage alliance—would you like to marry me?”
Steady, he blurted out all of this, the Demon King’s heart was pounding, the corners of his lips were rising.
Langmuir would be overjoyed, everything was resolved. They could skip the twists and turns of seven years, from now on there would only be happiness, no sadness.
—Hun Yao was so hopeful.
But the next moment, a sense of crisis suddenly struck.
Hun Yao’s pupils shrank, the instinct that had killed its way out of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood screamed in unison.
His whole body tensed, in an instant the fire of demonic breath had burned to his claws, but he forcibly stopped it—nonsense, how could he possibly hurt Langmuir!
Bang!
Hun Yao’s world spun before his eyes, when he came back to his senses he was already pinned to the ground.
The night filled the palace, Langmuir knelt on his chest, his knee against his neck, his right hand formed a golden blade with Mana, his left hand cast a sound barrier around them.
“You’re deceiving me.”
The Holy Monarch’s eyes were cold, then he leaned close to his ear, “You’re not the Demon King Hun Yao.”
Hun Yao was dumbfounded!
Langmuir pushed his Mana closer by an inch. “Thank you for taking care of me these past few days. But please tell me, who are you, and what happened to the original Demon King?”
“He hated me so much,” the Holy Monarch bit out each word clearly, “how could he possibly cherish me so meticulously, taking care of every detail.”
“He cared so much about the Abyss, about his people, how could he casually hand over the barrier to the human monarch.”
The bottom of his purple eyes clearly flashed a hint of killing intent, but his tone was still light, “…he is very important to me, very…very important, so.”
“So, if you can’t explain, and you don’t give him back to me, I can only assume that you killed the Demon King.”
“I will kill you,to avenge the Demon King.”
Silence, the palace was extremely quiet. The moonlight from the Cliff Moon fell through the window, shining brightly on the lounge chair that had been newly purchased a few days ago.
Ah.
Hun Yao stared blankly at Langmuir.
He didn’t know what the boiling emotion was at this moment, how it should be named.
But, ah…why…would it be like this.
Sour tears quietly filled his eyes, Hun Yao wanted to laugh, but he wanted to cry even more, so he pulled at the corners of his mouth and cried.
“…Langmuir.” He asked in a desolate tremor, “Could it be, you want ‘that’ Demon King more, why?”
Yes, why? Hun Yao laughed bitterly in his heart.
He had come back.
He had made up for the regret.
He hadn’t hurt Langmuir.
No suspicion, no probing. Nothing at all, it was good, very good.
He hadn’t even let Langmuir see him being intimate with other demons. In the eyes of humans, he was clean this time.
So the Demon King almost wanted to forget his old self. He discarded it like a piece of rotten garbage.
That Hun Yao was bad, stupid, dirty, and made mistakes. It would be best if he could disappear.
But his Langmuir.
Langmuir said, that Demon King, is very important to me, very very important.
I want that Demon King, where did you put him, give him back to me.
Hun Yao gritted his teeth and cried, raising his hand, wanting to touch that deep golden hair that had never faded. But Langmuir coldly said, “Don’t touch me.”
“Langmuir, you know,” Hun Yao glared at him, laughing bitterly, “If it was the real Demon King, what would happen to you if you fell into his hands!?”
“No matter what happens,” Langmuir’s gaze was condescending, “That’s the grudge between him and me, it’s not for others to interfere.”
The Mana condensed in his hand stabbed down, the black scales burst out with unbearable cracks. “I’m giving you one last chance to tell the truth.”
Pain came, but Hun Yao laughed again.
In this situation, he could actually laugh.
Because he suddenly thought that for a long time, he had held that strange and subtle psychology, hoping that Langmuir would come to kill him for revenge.
Alright, this rebirth, it really was a dream come true.
What should be fulfilled and what shouldn’t, all were completely fulfilled.
“Alright, since you say so, I’ll be honest.”
“First, listen to me tell you a story.”
Hun Yao closed his eyes, murmuring like he was sleep talking. “A story of hate and love that spans fourteen years.”
