The Seventh Year the Demon King Captured the Holy Monarch

Hun Yao spoke slowly, as if pulling Langmuir into a bizarre dream.

The future, the past, the concept of time swirled him into its center.

The “imposter Demon King” in front of him seemed to know everything about him, including his past in the human world. The things he had no evidence to prove were all spoken out one by one.

At some point, Langmuir moved away from Hun Yao, and the Mana in his palm also dissipated.

He sat next to the Demon King like a boy listening to a story, fully engrossed. Occasionally, when there was a confusing part, he interrupted to ask a question, and Hun Yao patiently answered him.

“But, you said…you fell in love with me?”

“Yes, I fell in love with you.”

“You initially hated me, why did you fall in love with me?”

“I just fell in love with you.”

“You woke up ten years ago, so where is the original Demon King of this time?”

“I really don’t know, I don’t even know how I got here!”

“…”

“Don’t be like that, maybe he ran to ten years later. Ha, he must be scared to death, blinking his eye, Gasuo’s barrier is gone, the King’s royal court rules the abyss, the Holy Monarch he has been thinking about married him for three years, and even became another Demon King!”

For a moment, Langmuir found it hard to accept, staring blankly at Hun Yao.

Hun Yao stroked his head, messing up his beautiful golden hair. “Don’t believe it? It doesn’t matter, just wait and see what I do.”

That night, the Cliff Moon hung high, and the first snow fell outside the window.

Langmuir was nestled in his blanket, unable to sleep. He stole glances at the Demon King beside him, unconsciously counting the scales on the demon’s jaw.

Reversing time, rebirth of the old days… He had heard some legends about the laws of time when he was young, but could such a thing really happen?

He was clueless, and thought: It’s been many days since he entered the abyss, Hun Yao clearly said he liked him, wanted him to be the queen, but did not offend. There was not even some overstepping touch, polite unlike a demon.

Langmuir turned over, thinking: What exactly is love, that it has such great power, can tame a wild wolf into a loyal dog, tame a fierce tiger into a house cat?

“Can’t sleep?” Hun Yao suddenly opened his eyes.

Langmuir had to tell the truth. “The things you talk about are too bizarre, of course I can’t sleep.”

The Demon King stretched out his arm to him, “Come.”

Langmuir hesitated and moved a little closer, but did not crawl into his arms as Hun Yao wished.

Hun Yao then remembered. At this time, the Holy Monarch was still very resistant to skin-to-skin contact, like a little clamshell.

Hun Yao simply got up, cooked him a bowl of hot sheep’s milk, and said in a low voice when he handed it over. “Your body is just getting better, you can’t not sleep. Listen to me, don’t think about it tonight.”

Langmuir lowered his eyes and took a sip, calmed his mind, and took another sip. After drinking a bowl of sheep’s milk, there was a white stain on the corner of his lips, which he licked off with the tip of his tongue.

Hun Yao took a handkerchief and wiped it for him. “Are you sleepy?”

Langmuir: “…A little dizzy, did you put something in it?”

Hun Yao: “Nonsense, it’s just a sleep aid herb, I use it myself.”

Langmuir laughed. He closed his eyes and lay down, feeling Hun Yao getting closer, the Demon King gently patted him, and slowly started to sing.

It was the song he had heard on the barrier cliff seven years ago, but the tune was much softer. Hun Yao sang half of it, stopped, said that the tune was personally changed by the Holy Monarch eight years later, and then sang the second half.

The deep voice in his ear was like a wave, and Langmuir’s consciousness was like a rocking boat, slowly being pushed away. He fell asleep.

……

The next day, it was a new day. After confessing, Hun Yao was refreshed and energetically teased the young Holy Monarch. He bullied the person too much, and then personally made him delicious food to coax him, wagging his tail to beg for mercy.

Langmuir didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. He had been suffocated by guilt for seven years, but the Demon King teased him here and poked him there, and the guilt and pain were always punctured before they formed.

“How come you’re so good at cooking?”

“I’ve always been able to.”

“What about these human-tasting foods?”

Langmuir curiously poked at the pastry in front of him. To tell the truth, it was not a delicacy, but it was not bad. It was not easy to achieve this level with the barren ingredients of the abyss.

“I would say you taught me…”

“Liar, I never cook.”

Hun Yao just laughed, but stubbornly refused to reveal how he learned.

That day, the Demon King dealt with the affairs of the court inside and outside early, and returned to the palace at noon. After lunch, he took out a roll of sheepskin paper and spread it in front of the Holy Monarch, placing two pens.

Langmuir looked closely, and saw seven ancient characters from “one” to “seven” written on it; there were blank spaces under each character.

He had a thought in his heart and looked up at Hun Yao. The Demon King leisurely shook his braid, picked up the pen and handed it to him. “Come on, we should also discuss how to spend the next seven years.”

For Hun Yao, rebirth was of course a good thing. But those hard-won challenges returned to zero overnight, which was also a headache.

Moving a small part will affect the overall situation, how to go next, that still needs to be carefully explored.

Langmuir hesitated for a moment, but did not take the pen. “Sorry, I don’t know much about the abyss, I dare not speak wildly. You say it, I’ll listen.”

——Alright, now even the object of “careful discussion” is gone. If something is not arranged well, Langmuir might doubt him.

Hun Yao gave a bitter smile, feeling quite pressured for a moment. But he could only take a deep breath and make the first stroke on the paper.

He began to plan, without the premise of mutual harm and suspicion, their seven-year future.

The first year, they would rest and recuperate, and reorganize the court. The knowledge and technology that Langmuir brought from the human world, which had been tested well in his previous life, should be used as soon as possible.

The second year, those rebellious tribes around them, those who should be beaten would be beaten, those who should be taken would be taken. This time he had the Holy Monarch by his side who had not lost his Mana, what was there to fear?

The only thing worth worrying about was that Langmuir would definitely discover his old wounds early. If the Holy Monarch stared at him and didn’t allow him to fight, he might die of boredom.

The flood in the third year still made Hun Yao feel lingering fear. It would be best to open the barrier before the rainy season, disperse the miasma, and fewer demons would die.

With the sunlight, crops could be planted; freed from famine, education could be popularized. The demons would move towards the light earlier.

The fourth year, once the barrier was opened, there would definitely be movement on the human side. The Demon King and the Holy Monarch would have to go to the human kingdom together to try to resolve the hatred between the two races and truly extinguish the flames of war.

Then came the fifth year, the sixth year, the seventh year… Beautiful wishes were arranged one by one and filled the sheepskin paper.

In the end, Hun Yao rolled it into a scroll. He picked it up and knocked on Langmuir’s forehead.

“In the seventh year, you wrote a bunch of last wishes, and finally rolled it into such a scroll, which really annoyed me.”

Langmuir silently covered the place where he was knocked, not speaking, with ripples in his eyes.

Hun Yao pulled his hand down, stuffed the scroll into his palm, and patted it. “Keep it well, wait for me to show you.”

That night, Langmuir didn’t sleep well again. He had a very long dream, crying non-stop in the middle of the night, woke up once, clutching the blanket and shivering. Hun Yao woke up, held him tightly, kissing his golden hair, and suddenly heard Langmuir sobbing and saying, “Don’t lie to me.”

“I won’t lie to you.”

“It’s like a dream…”

Hun Yao paused, put his forehead on Langmuir’s neck, and said softly, “Yes. I also feel, like it’s a dream.”

He looked up at the Cliff Moon, “Ten years later, there will be no Cliff Moon… Langmuir, you tell me, what is the you of ten years later doing now.”

Langmuir’s emotions stabilized a bit, and he also watched the Cliff Moon with the Demon King.

He suddenly said softly, “Are you missing me? But not this me.”

Hun Yao did not deny.

In the first few days when he came back, he was indeed full of joy and guilt, just thinking about how to take care of his human. But as the days passed, he often thought of Langmuir ten years later, and then his heart was filled with uncontrollable longing and worry.

That His Majesty, who had not received any compensation and love, gritting his teeth and enduring the long night of seven years. The silver-haired Demon King who would smile and hug him for a kiss, and when he was in a good mood, he would actively merge with him…Before rebirth, they were still sweetly sticking together for a nap, what about now, how is it over there?

Langmuir hesitated for a moment, but still reached out and covered the Demon King’s broken horn, stroking it lightly.

“I have a premonition, Demon King, you will go back.”

Hun Yao clenched Langmuir’s wrist, feeling the soft skin that belonged to a human, and said sourly, “What if I go back, what will you do?”

“I still have our path to walk,” Langmuir shook his head, speaking softly, “and you have already walked the path you should have walked, you should enjoy the sunlight that belongs to you.”

“Besides,” Langmuir turned his head, looking at the sheepskin scroll lying quietly on top of the wooden cabinet not far away, and smiled, “you have left us this, haven’t you?”

“Don’t worry, Hun Yao. Even if you go back, and he comes back, the tragedies you talked about will not happen.”

“It will be good, it will be much better.”

“Although you are not my Demon King, but, thank you…for coming to my side.”

****

“My King…”

“My King…”

In his sleep, a familiar voice was calling.

The voice was getting closer to him. Or rather, he was getting closer to the voice, like a ship that had been sailing far finally reaching the shore.

“——Hun Yao!”

Hun Yao suddenly opened his eyes and sat up, gasping for breath. The view in front of him was bright, and between the still blurry and shaking vision, a silver-white figure rushed over to hug him.

“…My King! Is it you? Are you awake, do you recognize me?”

“Langmuir?”

Hun Yao rubbed his face and woke up completely.

Looking around again, he was on a neat bed, covered with a fur blanket. The sunlight came in, and the bone ornaments and a few small flower pots on the windowsill were brightly colored. This arrangement was clearly their palace ten years later.

Had he…returned?

He had left inexplicably, and returned just as inexplicably.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s all my fault!” Langmuir looked anxious, “Are you okay, is there anywhere uncomfortable, is your head dizzy, is your memory still clear?”

Hun Yao instinctively hugged Langmuir first. “I’m fine, don’t worry. What happened…”

Langmuir sighed, looking wilted like a child who had accidentally broken something valuable, and confessed in a small voice.

It turned out that the Holy Monarch had been idle these days and had been studying the laws of time with his demonic breath in private. Because of the Gasuo barrier, he had almost mastered the spatial laws, and this time he was just playing around with it, without deliberately informing Hun Yao.

That afternoon was the same, Langmuir woke up first, but Hun Yao’s embrace made him very comfortable, he was too lazy to get up, so he stayed in place, closing his eyes and thinking about those mysterious and profound laws.

Unexpectedly, the demonic breath in his body suddenly lost control, and the Hun Yao from ten years ago and the current Hun Yao, had a soul reversal…

Hun Yao listened in a daze. “Langmuir, I think you really want to become a god.”

But Langmuir was really anxious. “My King, don’t make fun of me, I’m scared to death…”

“What are you scared of…be good don’t move, let me have a look,” Hun Yao opened Langmuir’s clothes and checked carefully, “Did I bully you these days?”

“Don’t mention it, you were tormented by me.” Langmuir gave a bitter smile.

“How so?”

“Just say the first day, you were still showing your teeth and claws, but then Liu Sha came in and shouted at you ‘The Queen is arguing with my King again, be careful to be locked up again’, you were so stunned that you couldn’t even speak.”

…How miserable. Hun Yao fell silent.

Although letting Liu Sha call him queen was his acquiescence, but for the Demon King ten years ago…Hiss, it’s simply unbearable to look straight at.

But when Hun Yao thought of the weak Langmuir he saw when he was reborn and went back, he laughed fiercely. “It’s okay, he deserves it.”

Langmuir was still worried, and Hun Yao had already grabbed him like a rabbit. “Don’t think too much. How come it’s the same ten years before and ten years after…”

The Holy Monarch hummed and was pushed down on the bed, his silver-gray hair spread out, shining brightly. Hun Yao used his scaly tail to wrap around him, twisting it hard, and his hands began to untie his robe.

“What are you doing.” Langmuir was helpless, but did not refuse, instead he amusingly kicked the Demon King with his toes, “So many days, you didn’t touch me over there, are you craving?”

“Nonsense, you were like that back then, how could I bear to touch you.”

Hun Yao kissed him once, satisfyingly smelling the sunlight scent in the Holy Monarch’s silver hair. “Be good, let me hold you once, I’ll bake you a rose cake tonight.”

****

When the epilogue rang out in another time and space, the abyss of ten years ago was still dark.

The black-haired Demon King and the golden-haired Holy Monarch sat side by side in front of the window, allowing the Cliff Moon to envelop them in a gentle glow, silent for a long time.

After a long time, Langmuir turned his head and spoke softly. “Demon King, what did you see…what do sunlight and flowers look like?”

Hun Yao’s breath trembled imperceptibly, and the cold and hard expression he had deliberately maintained suddenly cracked.

He flicked his scaly tail irritably and grunted.

Langmuir handed over the scroll. “This…is what you left behind.”

Hun Yao didn’t even look at it, he reached out and grabbed it tightly. After a while, he suddenly said out of nowhere. “You still have blond hair that’s pleasing to the eye.”

Langmuir was taken aback. “What?”

“I mean,” the Demon King suddenly stood up and made a cruel smile, showing his white fangs, “Don’t think that by creating a strange and bizarre illusion, you can deceive my trust. There’s a long way to go, Holy Monarch, let’s see——”

But Langmuir laughed.

He nodded forcefully, his eyes clear as water.

“Alright, we…have a long way to go.”

The abyss was still dark, but the invisible sun was already rising——

Illuminating him and his, brand new future.