Futile Devices Scans

Wenren Li stepped closer to Chen Yixin. Lowering his head, he pressed a gentle kiss to the center of Chen Yixin’s brow. The faint, mysterious azure imprint there flickered once before vanishing from sight.

“A-Rong is pleasing to the eye.”

The dance had been beautiful—but the person, even more so.

He ruffled Chen Yixin’s hair, then took his hand. With a single step, they left the Land of Inheritance.

Chen Yixin allowed himself to be led along, yet his free hand could not help but rise to touch his brow. A faint warmth spread across his cheeks, threatening to creep toward the tips of his ears. Because of Wenren Li’s simple words, he found himself inexplicably shy.

Of course, he told himself that the flush was not entirely due to those overly plain words—surely it was also from the exertion of dancing earlier. He was not someone so easily embarrassed.

Even so, his gaze lingered on Wenren Li, a smile tugging at his lips. Wenren Li had not blossomed in the slightest, yet Chen Yixin himself felt as though he were about to bloom with delight.

“Actually, A-Li is good-looking too. Truly,” Chen Yixin said, giving Wenren Li’s hand a small shake. His eyes drifted aside as he spoke, though his words were sincere. To him now, everything about Wenren Li seemed precious beyond measure.

Wenren Li’s gaze shifted slightly, and their eyes met. The once cold and sharp Demon Lord now carried a trace of bashfulness. He pressed his lips together lightly.

“As long as A-Rong likes it.”

“I do,” Chen Yixin replied, his smile growing all the brighter.

The scenery within the Burning Heaven Nether Palace could hardly be called beautiful. Yet, buoyed by his mood, Chen Yixin found it pleasing nonetheless.

“Where are we going now?”

“To retrieve the other Inheritance Crystals,” Wenren Li answered calmly. He led Chen Yixin to a low doorway—an exit within the secret realm that connected to another Land of Inheritance.

However, Wenren Li did not bring him inside. Instead, he retrieved a soft couch from his spatial ring, guiding Chen Yixin to sit upon it before turning his gaze back to the doorway.

With the addition of an Inheritance Mark, Chen Yixin felt somewhat better than before. Yet the intense pain had not truly left him—it was only that he had grown accustomed to enduring it. Having suffered such agony once already, it no longer affected him as deeply.

“I wonder which sect’s disciples it will be…” Chen Yixin murmured, leaning lazily against the couch. Though he appeared to be pondering, his gaze remained fixed on Wenren Li. After a moment, he tugged lightly at Wenren Li’s sleeve.

“A-Li, would it be troublesome for you to sit?”

Wenren Li tilted his head slightly, then stepped back and sat down beside him.

Chen Yixin leaned in, resting his head on Wenren Li’s shoulder. After a moment, finding the position somewhat uncomfortable, he stretched out his legs and casually draped them across Wenren Li’s thigh.

At that moment, three figures emerged from the low doorway—one Nascent Soul cultivator and two Golden Core cultivators. Their faces were pale, lingering fear still evident; clearly, their experience inside had not been an easy one.

Wenren Li’s brows knit slightly, a trace of undisguised disdain appearing in his expression. None of the three had obtained an Inheritance Crystal—they had only managed to escape that Land of Inheritance by relying on their hidden treasures.

The trio let out a breath of relief and glanced around, only to freeze in shock upon seeing Wenren Li and Chen Yixin. The two Golden Core cultivators’ legs went weak on the spot, while the Nascent Soul cultivator fared slightly better, hastily raising a magical artifact above her head, ready to strike at any moment.

“You… Chen Yixin!” The Nascent Soul cultivator was a female cultivator dressed in white, ethereal as a fairy of the lunar palace. Yet upon seeing Chen Yixin, her expression twisted.

“It is I,” Chen Yixin replied leisurely, clearly quite pleased to see her like this. Wrapping one arm around Wenren Li’s, he spoke with infuriating ease, “Granny Meng, long time no see.”

“You—you still haven’t—” Before Fairy Meng Suo could finish her sentence, a terrifying pressure descended upon her. With a thud, she dropped straight to her knees.

“A-Rong knows her?” Wenren Li asked, his gaze deepening. The two Golden Core cultivators had already begun coughing up blood, while Fairy Meng Suo did not even dare raise her head. This was undeniably a Soul Transformation realm powerhouse—one long established, with terrifying methods.

Chen Yixin raised a brow, hesitated briefly, then said, “We are… acquainted. She is jealous that I am better-looking than she is.”

At these words, Fairy Meng Suo’s expression twisted even further.

She was three hundred years older than Chen Yixin. Every time they met, he would call her “Granny” several times over. That alone was infuriating enough—but Chen Yixin’s talent for provoking others was unparalleled. Relying on his striking appearance, he acted with all the ruthlessness of the demonic path, seizing and scheming without the slightest regard for reason.

The miraculous fruit Chen Yixin had once consumed had been traded from her—for nothing more than a worthless stone. Ever since learning its true function, she had regretted it bitterly.

Yet to this day, Chen Yixin saw no fault in himself. She had agreed to the exchange willingly—what fault could be his?

Besides, there were countless in the cultivation world who wished him dead. One more or one less made no difference. Had he not seen her here, he would not even have remembered her at all.

“Useless,” Wenren Li said indifferently.

With a casual wave of his hand, the three vanished instantly. At the same time, several items fell into his grasp—one-third of an ancient jade pendant, and a high-grade treasure artifact.

Chen Yixin opened his mouth, clearly intending to mock her a few more times, yet before he could speak, Wenren Li had already made them vanish. Fairy Meng Suo was the Deputy Sect Master of the Moon Concealment Sect; before Chen Yixin rose to prominence, she had been known as the foremost beauty of the cultivation world.

Of course, ever since Chen Yixin appeared at the age of thirty as a Golden Core cultivator, her title had quietly fallen to second place—and from then on, it no longer concerned her.

“Where did you send them?”

A deputy sect master was not someone easily killed—especially now that many had already entered the Burning Heaven Nether Palace. Of course, if one truly wished to kill, then kill they would.

“Burning Prison.”

Wenren Li named a place unfamiliar to Chen Yixin, though from its name alone, it was clearly no place of mercy.

With the troublesome figures dealt with, it was time to attend to their true purpose. Using the ancient jade pendant, they reentered the Land of Inheritance.

It was little wonder Fairy Meng Suo and the others had failed—this place was filled with layered illusions. If one could not see through them, one would never awaken.

Chen Yixin stirred awake within Wenren Li’s embrace. The moment his brows began to furrow, Wenren Li smoothed them gently.

Chen Yixin looked at him, then slowly sat up. He leaned forward, brushing his cheek lightly against Wenren Li’s before pulling him into an embrace.

“You are A-Li… and also my A-Hua. You belong to me, Chen Yixin.”

As he spoke, he lifted a hand to caress Wenren Li’s cheek—then, without hesitation, formed an ice blade in his palm and slashed across Wenren Li’s neck. No blood spilled; the figure dissipated instantly.

Another illusion.

“How could I fail to recognize what A-Li truly is?”

He had mistaken once before—never again.

Ten times, a hundred times… false versions of Wenren Li appeared ceaselessly, each more lifelike than the last. Yet truth was truth, and falsehood falsehood. In the end, Chen Yixin grew impatient with distinguishing them—he simply struck down every figure he saw.

He stepped forward again, only to find another scene—a pool where Wenren Li stood bathing, his back turned. Mist curled through the air, his figure alluring beyond words. Chen Yixin, still brimming with killing intent, froze for a moment—then swallowed.

His brows lifted slightly, gaze lingering on that straight, elegant back. With a flick of his sleeve, he scoffed,

“Seduction is useless. I am only interested in A-Li’s beauty.”

He advanced, ice blade in hand, still muttering under his breath,

“Though… watching A-Li bathe for me wouldn’t be so bad.”

Thinking thus, he grew all the more eager to awaken and return to the real Wenren Li.

Just as he raised his dagger to strike from behind, the bathing figure suddenly turned.

Chen Yixin halted, eyes widening slightly.

“A-Li?”

“It is I.” Wenren Li nodded. With a wave of his hand, the illusion of the pool dissolved, replaced by the small valley flower field from that strange land.

“How did A-Li get in here?” Chen Yixin stepped closer, first sniffing lightly, then reaching out to touch him. Meeting Wenren Li’s gaze, he finally confirmed it—and all restraint vanished. Rising onto his toes, he pressed his lips forward.

Wenren Li had intended to answer, yet with his lips sealed by Chen Yixin’s kiss, how could he speak? He wrapped an arm around Chen Yixin’s waist, responding in kind, deepening the kiss—one tinged faintly with longing.

“I came… to fulfill A-Rong’s dream…”

As his words fell, Wenren Li released him and knelt upon the flower field.

“I, Wenren Li, am willing to become husband to Chen Yixin—to grow old together, never to part.”

Chen Yixin steadied his racing heart. Looking around at the familiar scene, he smiled softly and knelt as well.

“I, Chen Yixin, am willing to become husband to Wenren Li—to grow old together, never to part.”

They exchanged a glance, then bowed together, kowtowing three times before rising.

Hand in hand, Wenren Li led Chen Yixin toward the small wooden hut. Within, red candles flickered beside mandarin duck bedding. It was a simple bridal chamber, yet every detail felt intimately familiar to them both.

“What do we do next?” Chen Yixin asked, gripping Wenren Li’s hand. His gaze wandered until it landed on a wine jar by the door. His eyes lit up, and he pulled Wenren Li along.

“I know—we drink the cross-cupped wine.

Wenren Li nodded and stepped forward, pouring wine into two small bamboo cups.

They raised their cups, arms entwined, and drank. The wine slid down their throats, yet their gazes never left each other.

“Next… comes the bridal chamber rites,” Wenren Li said, leading Chen Yixin toward the bed.

Chen Yixin sat at its edge, lifting his gaze toward Wenren Li. Then, slowly, he spread his arms, allowing Wenren Li to undress him.

When he had first arrived at the Demon Palace, Wenren Li had often helped him change clothes. Yet now, in this moment, Chen Yixin truly felt what it meant to be nervous. Still, beneath that nervousness, there was not a trace of unwillingness.

To fulfill a dream—this was what it meant.

“A-Li, to break through this illusion, my heart must reach completion… But what is completion? We may have missed a hundred years, but we still have thousands, tens of thousands more—this life, the next, and countless lifetimes beyond.”

“I do not need perfection… but I want A-Li.”

As his words fell, Chen Yixin tilted his head and captured Wenren Li’s lips, sucking and licking before pulling back slightly.

“And A-Li?”

Wenren Li was not surprised by Chen Yixin’s insight. Though he had entered alongside him under the pretense of helping, in truth, he simply did not wish for Chen Yixin to touch anyone else—even if they were mere illusions.

At the same time, this was also a way for them to draw closer—more intimately than ever before Chen Yixin had begun cultivating.

Wenren Li gave no verbal reply. Instead, he pulled Chen Yixin into his arms and pressed him down onto the bed beneath him.

Perhaps he had once not understood—but after meeting Chen Yixin, he began to learn.

Some things were instinctive, requiring no instruction at all.

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