Futile Devices Scans

Chen Yixin closed his eyes and soon fell asleep.

Wenren Li sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed. He watched Chen Yixin’s back for a while before closing his own eyes—not to sleep, but to enter his usual meditation and regulate his breathing.

Treating Chen Yixin’s injuries was not easy, even for someone like Wenren Li.

Using the ancient method of healing meant both of them had to bear certain risks. Even when Chen Yixin ate meals made from spirit ingredients each day, Wenren Li still had to carefully guide the process with his spiritual energy so Chen Yixin could refine and absorb them.

Chen Yixin’s body had been injured far too severely.

The slightest mistake could cost him his life.

Fortunately, the most dangerous hurdle had already passed.

Chen Yixin’s period of excessive sleepiness had ended.

At the faint break of dawn, he opened his eyes.

Just like on many mornings before, he had somehow drifted in his sleep from the head of the bed all the way to the foot of it. One leg lay boldly draped across Wenren Li, who was meditating.

He had left Wenren Li only the small space at the foot of the bed to sit and meditate, yet he still ended up occupying even that space with his leg.

Chen Yixin felt a tiny flicker of guilt.

He was fully awake now, yet he didn’t withdraw his foot.

Instead, he stared quietly at Wenren Li’s profile.

Since he had lost his spiritual sense, he could no longer observe things with the same precision as before. Yet sometimes, seeing with one’s eyes alone struck the heart even more directly.

Wenren Li’s reactions often made Chen Yixin feel as if the two of them had met before.

But someone like this… there was no way he would have forgotten him.

Just as Chen Yixin was staring in fascination, Wenren Li slowly opened his eyes.

He had never been asleep.

He naturally knew Chen Yixin had been looking at him. In truth, Chen Yixin watched him like this several times a day—it should have been something he was already used to.

Yet the moment their eyes met, the blush that spread across Wenren Li’s cheeks had nowhere to hide.

In the past, Chen Yixin would pretend not to notice Wenren Li’s embarrassment, sparing the dignity of a Soul Transformation cultivator before calmly getting up.

But this time, Chen Yixin leaned closer instead.

He raised a hand, the faintly pink tip of his finger lightly touching the small dimple on Wenren Li’s cheek.

“Wenren Li,” he said softly, “smile for me.”

At those words, the spiritual energy inside Wenren Li trembled slightly as he struggled to calm his suddenly uneven heartbeat.

He pressed his lips together, seriously considering what kind of smile might satisfy Chen Yixin.

He knew very well that no matter how he smiled, it would never have the breathtaking charm Chen Yixin possessed.

Seeing him fall silent, Chen Yixin finally withdrew his foot from Wenren Li’s lap and sat up.

He leaned closer again, then broke into a brilliant smile.

The corners of his eyes and brows curved gracefully, dazzling and radiant. He even tilted his head slightly, trying to show Wenren Li exactly what a proper smile looked like.

Yet aside from the deeper flush spreading across Wenren Li’s face, his expression only grew stiffer.

Chen Yixin felt a faint sense of defeat.

There was no infatuation in Wenren Li’s eyes.

No covetousness.

None of the emotions Chen Yixin had half-expected to see.

The man’s reaction was as wooden as a block of timber.

What bothered Chen Yixin even more was his own reaction.

Instead of feeling relieved, what stirred within him was unmistakably disappointment.

Just then, however, a pair of long-fingered hands slowly lifted and gently cupped his face.

“You look beautiful when you smile. Truly beautiful.”

So there was no need to feel disappointed.

Just because Wenren Li couldn’t react properly didn’t mean he felt nothing.

His hands rested lightly against Chen Yixin’s cheeks, as though afraid he might hurt him if he used even a little force.

His tone and gaze made it clear he meant every word sincerely.

“I’m the most beautiful man in Taixuan,” Chen Yixin replied casually. “Of course I look good.”

Being held by the face like this made him a little uncomfortable, but when he met Wenren Li’s eyes, he resisted the urge to pull away.

“It’s alright if you can’t smile,” he added. “I’ll teach you.”

As he spoke, he reached up and lightly patted Wenren Li’s hair.

When Chen Yixin lowered his hand, Wenren Li slowly withdrew his own as well.

But in the next moment, he suddenly pulled Chen Yixin into his arms and hugged him.

“Alright,” he murmured.

The corner of his lips lifted slightly—not quite a smile, but far softer than his usual stiff expression.

Unfortunately, Chen Yixin was already buried against his chest and didn’t see this rare sight.

Leaning against Wenren Li’s shoulder, Chen Yixin blinked slowly.

The smile on his lips faded into something gentler, though his expression remained peaceful.

He quietly took hold of Wenren Li’s hand and held it.

For a brief moment, his gaze became distant.

Then it hardened with resolve.

Some people…

Some things…

It was finally time to let them go.

One evening three months later, shortly before they were to leave the Demon Palace, Wenren Li brought Chen Yixin to the summit of a nearby mountain.

They walked there together, taking a leisurely stroll after dinner.

The sunset in the Southern Region burned far brighter than those of the north. The sky blazed crimson, the land below spread out like a painting.

It had been Chen Yixin who suggested coming here.

The two walked side by side. Occasionally Chen Yixin glanced toward the distant horizon, while Wenren Li’s gaze remained entirely fixed on him.

He made no effort to hide it.

Nor did he know how to hide it.

And in truth—he had no reason to conceal the special attention he gave Chen Yixin.

After a while, Chen Yixin stopped walking.

“Why did you propose marriage to the Chen Clan of Zhenhai in the first place?” he asked.

Wenren Li did not stop.

Instead, he caught Chen Yixin by the wrist and guided him a few more steps until they reached a sheltered spot out of the wind.

With a wave of his hand, he produced a long wooden bench from his storage ring—large enough for a person to lie down upon.

Then he pulled Chen Yixin down to sit beside him.

Chen Yixin had lived in the Demon Palace for eight months now.

More than two hundred days had passed.

During that entire time, Wenren Li had cared for him with meticulous devotion—wholehearted and unwavering.

Even the coldest heart would have warmed by now.

“My body has already recovered,” Chen Yixin reminded him.

When he had first arrived, he had been so fragile he might die at any moment.

Now, however, he could easily handle a couple of strong mortal men in a fight.

“I know,” Wenren Li replied.

Only then did he finally shift his gaze away from Chen Yixin to look toward the brilliant sunset.

“You already knew me before this, didn’t you…” Chen Yixin said, refusing to let him brush the matter aside.

He reached over, grabbed Wenren Li’s hand, and shook it lightly.

Wenren Li pressed his lips together before giving a soft nod.

“Mm.”

Seeing his stiff expression again, Chen Yixin sighed helplessly.

He released Wenren Li’s hand, then leaned sideways until his head rested on Wenren Li’s lap.

“Fine. If you don’t want to say it, then don’t.”

Perhaps Wenren Li had once encountered him somewhere long ago and fallen in love at first sight. After harboring those feelings for years, he finally seized the opportunity to bring him back to the Demon Palace.

Chen Yixin would have disliked such a thought before.

Yet now, imagining Wenren Li in that role made him strangely happy.

Even a little amused.

He pressed his lips together, trying to suppress the smile that threatened to appear.

Turning onto his side, Chen Yixin gazed toward the horizon where the sun was slowly disappearing.

Wenren Li followed his gaze.

Only after the red sun vanished completely did he look back down—and realize Chen Yixin was no longer watching the scenery at all.

He was staring at him again.

A trace of confusion appeared in Wenren Li’s eyes.

Before he could raise a finger to check on him, Chen Yixin pressed his hand down.

“I’m not thirsty. I’m not hungry. And I’m not sleepy.”

“Oh.”

Wenren Li nodded slightly and continued looking down at him.

Chen Yixin noticing his unspoken question didn’t surprise him at all.

Chen Yixin had always been extraordinarily perceptive—one of the sharpest minds in the world.

Unlike Wenren Li, who needed centuries of cultivation to reach the Soul Transformation realm.

After a moment, Chen Yixin spoke again.

“Wenren Li… do you like me?”

His expression grew serious as he carefully observed every reaction on Wenren Li’s face.

Wenren Li’s surprise deepened.

After hesitating briefly, he shook his head.

Before he could say anything else, Chen Yixin abruptly sat up.

“You don’t like me?” he demanded.

Could he have misunderstood all this time?

But if Wenren Li didn’t like him, then why treat him so devotedly?

If that were the case, Wenren Li wasn’t a Demon Lord.

He was a saint.

This time Wenren Li didn’t hesitate.

He shook his head again—firmly.

Chen Yixin snorted.

Grabbing Wenren Li by the collar, he pulled him closer.

“Then what exactly do you mean?” he said sharply. “You keep shaking your head. Explain yourself clearly.”

Whether he liked him or not—today the answer had to be made clear.

Chen Yixin hadn’t expected Wenren Li to stir his emotions so much.

But right now, the important thing was hearing the truth.

Wenren Li placed his hands on Chen Yixin’s shoulders.

“I wanted to wait until your cultivation fully recovered before telling you,” he admitted quietly.

“I like you.”

In truth, he had hoped to continue treating Chen Yixin well for another ten… even a hundred years.

Only after becoming irreplaceable in Chen Yixin’s heart would he confess.

Even if Chen Yixin couldn’t return his feelings, at least he wouldn’t completely push him away.

“A-Rong… I like you,” Wenren Li said firmly.

Chen Yixin’s Dao title was Luxin, but over a hundred years ago he had also chosen a courtesy name for himself:

Rongzhi—meaning that the ultimate pinnacle of beauty ended with him.

It was a rather shamelessly narcissistic name.

His fellow disciples had teased him about it endlessly back then, and after the jokes faded, hardly anyone used it again.

Yet Wenren Li’s “A-Rong” sounded utterly natural.

After all this time together, Wenren Li had never once called him by his given name.

In Wenren Li’s heart, Chen Yixin had always been A-Rong.

Warmth rose unexpectedly to Chen Yixin’s face.

He hadn’t expected Wenren Li’s stiff confession to affect him so much.

“A-Rong… may I continue liking you?” Wenren Li asked carefully.

When Chen Yixin didn’t answer immediately, Wenren Li felt his heart sink slightly.

Perhaps he had spoken too soon.

Chen Yixin studied the faint tension on Wenren Li’s face.

Then he lifted his chin and gave a soft reply.

“…Mm.”

“A-Rong, thank you.”

Wenren Li’s gaze drifted over Chen Yixin’s breathtakingly beautiful face.

He reached out, intending to pull him into an embrace.

But Chen Yixin rolled his eyes slightly.

Many times before he had felt Wenren Li wanted to kiss him—yet every time, Wenren Li managed to restrain himself.

Now that he knew Wenren Li truly liked him, Chen Yixin realized those moments hadn’t been his imagination at all.

So this time, he leaned forward first.

Tilting his head, he quickly pressed a kiss to Wenren Li’s cheek.

Then he rested his head against Wenren Li’s shoulder.

Feeling Wenren Li’s body stiffen instantly, Chen Yixin’s expression turned mischievous.

“Go ahead, try being stiff again,” he teased.

“You’re the one who likes me. I’m a man—what can I do about that?”

Previous

Main

Next