Futile Devices Scans

When Chen Yixin fell asleep, he had been lying upon a woven cloud, resting within Wenren Li’s embrace. When he awoke, he found himself in the very same position—yet they were no longer within the palace of Chaotic Demon City.

They now lay within a half-open cloud vessel. No attendants remained—no Wu Fei, no Nan Ke, none of the demonic guards. Only the two of them, leaning quietly against one another.

“A-Rong is awake,” Wenren Li said softly, brushing a hand through Chen Yixin’s hair. A thread of spiritual energy slipped into him, clearing away the last traces of drowsiness.

“I had Wu Fei and the others remain behind in Chaotic Demon City to await the outcome of their deliberations. We departed first,” he continued. “Once the other nine Demon Lords conclude their council, they will follow according to the original procession.”

Chen Yixin nodded, then his nose twitched slightly.

“What has A-Li cooked?”

“I made a bit of porridge,” Wenren Li replied, helping him sit upright.

Without Nan Ke’s well-trained attendants, this meal could only have been prepared by Wenren Li himself. Chen Yixin glanced at him, faintly surprised—but on second thought, it seemed only natural. A master of artifact forging, alchemy, medicine, and talismans—how could cooking be beyond him?

“A-Li is truly remarkable.”

As he spoke, his gaze drifted toward the small stove where the porridge bubbled gently. When he turned back, he met Wenren Li’s slightly expectant eyes. Understanding at once, Chen Yixin smiled, leaned closer, and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Wenren Li’s lips curved faintly, the anticipation in his eyes softening into warmth. He tilted his head to return the gesture—yet Chen Yixin moved at the same time. Their lips brushed together by accident.

Chen Yixin’s eyes lifted slightly before narrowing with amusement. His arm tightened around Wenren Li’s shoulders, sliding up to clasp the back of his neck. Without the slightest hesitation, he deepened the kiss.

Wenren Li, faced with such unrestrained affection, felt as he always did—momentarily at a loss. Not from rejection, but restraint. The disparity in their strength forced him to hold back.

“A-Rong…” he murmured, catching the hand that had begun to wander. With a shift of movement, he gently pressed Chen Yixin back against the cloud. “A-Rong…”

This time, his voice carried a deeper tenderness—he had already been stirred.

Yet Chen Yixin showed no fear. His arms remained looped around Wenren Li’s neck as he cast him a sidelong glance.

“Does A-Li not like me kissing you this way?”

“I do,” Wenren Li answered simply—then lowered his head to kiss him once more. Words were unnecessary; action spoke more clearly.

Chen Yixin’s eyes slowly closed, his body relaxing as he surrendered to the gentle, focused kiss. A faint smile touched his lips—

Then, without warning, a vision flickered through his mind.

A sea of flowers.

Two figures standing together, close and inseparable.

Chen Yixin’s brows knit slightly. As he tried to discern who the other figure was, an invisible barrier rose, blocking his thoughts. At the same time, Wenren Li’s hand rested against his hair once more, a gentle current of spiritual energy dissolving the discomfort.

Chen Yixin licked his lips. At some point, his collar had been loosened in their entanglement. After a brief pause, he gave his verdict:

“Very good.”

The sweetness of that kiss—indeed, very good.

Wenren Li nodded, his gaze lingering upon Chen Yixin’s reddened lips and flushed cheeks. He pressed his own lips together, finding his restraint growing more difficult with each passing moment.

After allowing him a moment longer to settle, Wenren Li helped him sit up and began feeding him the porridge, now entirely at ease in caring for him.

The cloud vessel sped onward.

They ate, slept, and lived upon it, only occasionally descending when Wenren Li feared Chen Yixin might grow restless—wandering briefly through mountains or forests before continuing their journey.

A month later, they arrived at a small mortal town in the western lands.

Chen Yixin, now devoid of spiritual power, was no different from an ordinary mortal. With Wenren Li’s methods concealing his own aura, the two appeared no different from common travelers.

They landed before a dilapidated town god’s temple outside the town, then walked inward together.

Chen Yixin looked around, a trace of nostalgia surfacing on his face.

“I’ve been here before.”

On the Xiguang Plains, strange winds—feared even by Golden Core cultivators—often swept across the land. Back then, when Chen Yixin first arrived with members of the Jade Cauldron Sect, he had been separated by one such gale. Passing through this very town alone, he had discovered a clue—and entered the Burning Heaven Nether Palace ahead of the others.

As he spoke, he took Wenren Li’s hand and led him toward the place he once lived.

“I remember a sapling in that courtyard,” he said thoughtfully. “It never grew leaves—only a single flower bud. When touched, it would even grow shy… I wonder if, after a hundred years, it has gained sentience.”

His words faltered, and he glanced at Wenren Li, lowering his voice.

“I only touched it—nothing more.”

Wenren Li’s gaze had made it seem as though he had done something terribly improper.

“It was only a sapling.”

“Mm,” Wenren Li replied, his expression one of quiet indulgence.

Chen Yixin did not know—just that single touch had set countless fates and entanglements into motion.

At sixteen, Chen Yixin had established his foundation. At twenty, he arrived at the Xiguang Plains, entering the Burning Heaven Nether Palace, where he remained for ten years before forming his Golden Core. Yet he did not leave—he lingered there, searching for forty-nine more years before finally departing.

The world believed he had discovered some great opportunity within—

But in truth, he had only been searching for a Dao companion with whom he had been but one final bow away from union.

And now, it seemed—

He had found the wrong person.

“It’s just ahead,” Chen Yixin said, pointing toward the courtyard.

But as his gaze wandered, his tone shifted—growing heavier.

Nothing had changed.

Not a single thing.

Even the stones by the roadside lay in the exact same positions.

An old man carrying firewood approached—

Unchanged.

“Uncle Lin…”

A century had passed. Ordinary mortals should long since have perished. Yet everything here remained exactly as before.

“Ah, Young Master Chen! Back from the plains?” the old man greeted warmly. “Your aunt has been worrying about you. It’s dangerous out there—best not wander too far.”

“How long have I been gone?” Chen Yixin asked.

“Half a month or so,” the old man replied. “We’ve been quite concerned.”

His gaze then shifted to Wenren Li, his smile growing even more genial.

“A-Li, you’ve returned as well. Once you’ve settled in, come by our home—we’ll share a drink.”

Wenren Li nodded, exchanging a few words before the man departed.

Chen Yixin stood in a daze for a moment before allowing himself to be led into the courtyard he once occupied.

“A-Li… Wenren Li…” he murmured. “So that’s why the name sounded familiar.”

Back then, Uncle Lin had told him this courtyard once belonged to someone named Wenren Li. He had been allowed to stay freely, so long as he kept the place clean.

What he had never expected—

Was that it truly was Wenren Li’s residence.

Or that their fates had crossed more than a century ago.

Standing within the courtyard, Chen Yixin suddenly halted, lifting his chin.

“A-Li… do you have nothing to tell me?”

Wenren Li did not answer at once. He brushed Chen Yixin’s hair lightly and led him into the main hall before speaking.

“What would A-Rong have me say?”

Chen Yixin fell silent for a moment, his expression cooling.

“Everything.”

Wenren Li sighed faintly, drawing him closer before explaining:

“A hundred years here pass as ten days beyond. Every cycle of ten returns resets all things. When we return after a century, the town reverts to how it was when you first arrived.”

“This place is one of the domains of the Burning Heaven Nether Palace. All you see are souls drawn here. Yet within this domain, even Buddhist cultivators cannot perceive or harm them.”

Chen Yixin’s expression softened as he leaned against him, though his eyes still held a trace of feigned coolness.

“And you?”

“I once stayed here for two thousand years,” Wenren Li said quietly. “As a demonic embryo, I could make use of this domain. I left behind a soul imprint—this courtyard, this identity.”

“Mm…” Chen Yixin responded, then reached up and pinched his cheek lightly.

“You didn’t lie,” he said. “But you didn’t tell me everything either. A-Li… I trust you. Even if I never recover those memories, I will still believe you.”

Wenren Li stilled.

The Chen Yixin he knew was cautious, perceptive, difficult to trust—

And yet here he was, offering belief without reservation.

Their gazes met.

One hesitant.

The other unwavering.

Before Wenren Li could speak, Chen Yixin suddenly asked:

“A-Li… are you that little sapling in the courtyard?”

A faint flush rose upon Wenren Li’s face. He nodded.

“Yes.”

“Not only that sapling…”

“I am also the ‘A-Hua’ whom A-Rong cherished within the Burning Heaven Nether Palace.”

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