RIIDMDR chapter 128

 

Nan Xu looked at the scene before him and thought of his small wooden house in the mountains of Zhuyu. Compared to this, his house really did look like a pauper’s shack.

“Are these jade stones real?” Nan Xu asked uncertainly.

Tingchuan raised his brows slightly. After all these years, he had never really thought about it. “They should all be top grade. The Azure Dragon Clan wouldn’t use inferior jade as substitutes.”

Nan Xu felt even more envious—not only were they real, but they were also top-quality.

As they entered, the pearl-and-agate door curtain clinked softly. The interior was spacious and bright, filled with enormous coral ornaments and gemstones scattered about. It didn’t look like a hall; it looked like the palace of Nan Xu’s dreams.

But in such a vast space, not a single demon was present. It was eerily quiet.

Nan Xu was just about to ask about it when Tingchuan tugged on his hand and led him further inside. Behind the hall was a golden corridor, dazzlingly resplendent. As Nan Xu walked along it, the endless gold almost made his eyes blur. He sighed—even the exterior decorations of this small palace were far too understated.

After passing through the glittering pavilions, Tingchuan finally stopped. Nan Xu looked at the huanghuali wooden[mfn]黃花梨 (huánghuālì) Huanghuali wood, also known as Dalbergia odorifera, is a precious material with a rich history and a significant place in the world of Asian furniture. It is valued for its golden hue, subtle fragrance, and rarity, making it a central element in the design of traditional Chinese furniture.[/mfn] door before him and felt numb.

He hadn’t sent word ahead and had just stepped into Jing Yuan’s territory uninvited. Would that cause displeasure? Moreover, he had now entered the innermost chambers and was standing before another’s bedchamber door.

Just then, Zhixing’s mother emerged from a side door, carrying a bowl of medicine. When she saw Nan Xu and Tingchuan, she froze for a moment before reacting. “The inn owner arrived so quickly.”

Nan Xu nodded. Zhixing’s mother looked more haggard and aged than before. Nan Xu glanced at the bowl she held. Even from a distance, he could smell its bitter scent, which was several times stronger than any herbal medicine he had ever encountered in the human world.

“Where’s Uncle Bai?” Nan Xu asked.

Zhixing’s mother glanced toward the side room. “He came and treated the senior right away, but it drained too much of his spiritual power. He’s resting in bed now.”

Nan Xu understood. “Then, is there still hope for Jing Yuan?”

Zhixing’s mother sighed. “The senior’s old ailment has seeped into his bones and blood. My husband and I can do nothing now. His life is being held together only by this medicine.”

Her words made Nan Xu’s heart sink. Although he had already heard about Jing Yuan’s poor health, part of him had hoped for a miracle. When the Bai couple agreed to treat Jing Yuan, Nan Xu had held onto that hope, but reality had proven otherwise.

Nan Xu fell silent. Zhixing’s mother wasn’t talkative to begin with. Seeing that he didn’t plan to say more, she carried the medicine inside. Tingchuan followed her, and Nan Xu followed Tingchuan.

Unlike the lavishly adorned outer chambers, this room was simply furnished. The window was slightly open, allowing the shark-silk curtains to flutter in the breeze. The dim room smelled strongly of bitter medicine.

Nan Xu frowned. He stepped past the threshold but didn’t go any further. He stood there and gazed from a distance at the figure lying on the bed.

The large, ornate canopy bed made the frail figure lying upon it seem even more emaciated.

Tingchuan turned back to glance at Nan Xu and noticed his dazed expression. Tingchuan quietly approached the bed. Zhixing’s mother set down the bowl of medicine, murmured something softly, and took Jing Yuan’s pulse. After a while, she looked at Tingchuan and shook her head.

When she left, the room fell silent. The faint smoke from the incense burner mingled with the bitter smell of medicine, overpowering the fragrance.

Tingchuan’s gaze lingered on the bed for a moment before he sat down in a nearby redwood chair. Nan Xu hesitated, unsure whether to stay. Usually thoughtful, Tingchuan offered no advice this time. After wavering for a moment, Nan Xu finally sat down on a small stool in the corner.

Time passed slowly. At first, Nan Xu observed the room out of curiosity. Later, he lost interest and simply stared blankly in the direction of the bed.

He recalled the young and handsome Jing Yuan he had once seen in a dream, with sword-like brows and starry eyes. The demon wore a subtly luxurious black robe embroidered with fine patterns. His bearing was noble and commanding. Back then, he had stood tall and strong—nothing like the frail, skeletal figure before him now.

After some time, the figure on the bed stirred slightly. Jing Yuan awoke from the pain that had plagued him for so long, his brows tightly furrowed. It was as if every small movement cost him immense effort.

Tingchuan rose and walked to the bed. Jing Yuan, sensing another’s presence, didn’t appear surprised. Perhaps his illness had numbed him to new experiences. When he turned his head and saw Tingchuan, his dark eyes lingered on him quietly before he faintly curled his lips and said hoarsely, “You’re here.”

Tingchuan responded flatly. After a pause, he said, “You can’t hold on much longer.”

Jing Yuan gave a bitter smile and his voice halted. “I wanted to live two days longer than you, but my body can’t handle it. Seeing you still so alive and spirited—I suppose I’ve lost.”

His breath came unevenly, and even these few words had drained most of his strength. Perhaps he hadn’t spoken with anyone in a long time. Though he had always despised the nine-tailed fox, he now strangely wanted to talk more. However, the medicine only gave him brief moments of clarity.

He tried to move, pushing against the bed with his arm to sit up. The movement was slow and stiff. Tingchuan finally couldn’t bear to watch and handed him the bowl of medicine.

Jing Yuan froze, then leaned back against the headboard in resignation. After taking a few labored breaths, he accepted the bowl shakily but didn’t drink right away. Instead, he looked at Tingchuan, his tone full of mockery. “After all these years, you’ve grown a kind heart.”

Even on the brink of death, he wouldn’t have asked Tingchuan for help, not even for something as trivial as a bowl of medicine. What surprised him was that the same Tingchuan who had once coldly watched him fall into ruin was now offering him a helping hand.

Tingchuan ignored the sarcasm. After Jing Yuan finished the medicine, Tingchuan said, “I came all this way, so I should at least talk to you a bit more. Otherwise, I won’t have the chance again.”

It wasn’t pleasant to hear—it was almost cruel to say such things to a dying man. But Jing Yuan didn’t mind. Holding the bowl, he laughed softly. “True enough. Leaving you behind to live must be its own kind of suffering.”

All of his friends from the past had fallen one by one, leaving only Tingchuan alive to endure. Winning or losing hardly mattered anymore.

Thinking this, Jing Yuan suddenly felt at peace. The weight in his chest eased, and as death approached, he no longer felt any regret.

The air shifted—his sudden acceptance was palpable. Even Nan Xu, sitting quietly in the corner, could sense it, like the final spark of light before the death of an elderly person. Jing Yuan’s spirit seemed to brighten.

Nan Xu’s heart clenched tightly. He had come to see Jing Yuan because of an illusory encounter in the formation that had given him the false impression that they had once shared a deep bond. However, he hadn’t come to hasten Jing Yuan’s death by bringing Tingchuan.

“I didn’t just come to see you off,” Tingchuan said slowly. “I also have good news. My partner and I have pledged ourselves to each other. We’ll soon announce it across the demon realm and hold our wedding banquet. So, if you wanted me to linger in this world, it seems you won’t get your wish.”

This made Jing Yuan, who had just found peace, suddenly sit up straight. “What?”

Tingchuan glanced toward the corner and waved Nan Xu over.

Nan Xu didn’t know how the conversation had turned to him, but he stood up, tidied his clothes, and walked to Tingchuan’s side.

Tingchuan naturally wrapped an arm around Nan Xu’s shoulders and said to Jing Yuan, who was gasping, “Let me introduce you. His name is Nan Xu. He now lives in Zhuyu Mountain. You’re my only old friend left in the demon realm. Do you think you’ll live long enough to drink our wedding wine?”

It sounded as though Jing Yuan could live or die at will. His lover was taunting a dying man, and Nan Xu didn’t have the courage to look Jing Yuan in the eye.

Even without looking, he could feel Jing Yuan’s rage. He didn’t know why Jing Yuan was so furious over Tingchuan’s new relationship. It felt like the dying man might grab a stick and beat them apart.

The thought was absurd, and Nan Xu tried to shake it off. But Tingchuan seemed oblivious to Jing Yuan’s livid face and continued calmly.
“But your body can’t make it to the East Sea now. How about asking the mermaid or the white-crested albatross clan to prepare a banquet here in the South Sea first?”

Nan Xu never knew Tingchuan could be so tone-deaf. His heart pounded. Even though he felt guilty, he kept his eyes on Jing Yuan, afraid the man might die of rage on the spot. Yet, miraculously, despite seeming moments from collapse, Jing Yuan’s spirits remained unnaturally high—he refused to give in.

“I did promise not to make the wedding perfunctory,” Tingchuan continued. “Once we return to the East Sea, we’ll host a grand celebration, followed by another one at his home on Zhuyu Mountain. That means we’ll need several auspicious dates. I recall you studied such things. If you have the time…”

Finally, Jing Yuan threw the medicine bowl at Tingchuan. Lacking strength, it only crashed beside the bed and shattered.

It should have been an insignificant gesture, yet Nan Xu flinched instinctively because Jing Yuan’s fury felt like it could pierce the heavens. Tingchuan sensed Nan Xu’s sudden panic and pulled him behind him, standing protectively in front.

This only poured oil onto Jing Yuan’s blazing wrath.

“You…” Jing Yuan tried to speak, but he broke into violent coughs that shook his frail body until his eyes turned bloodshot.

“Where is your solemn vow? Your devoted heart? It’s only been three thousand years—three thousand!—and you’ve already found someone new! You want a grand wedding? Do you want to invite all the guests in the realm? How dare you return to Zhuyu Mountain? Don’t you remember whose body lies buried beneath that mountain?”

Each word struck Tingchuan’s chest like a blood-forged blade. Jing Yuan’s thin arm veins bulged as he glared up at Tingchuan, his eyes wild with rage.

But now, despite all his fury, he couldn’t fight as he once had. He couldn’t even stand.

After a long silence, as though realizing his helplessness, Jing Yuan slumped back against the bed and murmured, “You’ve already forgotten him… Who else in this world would remember him?”

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