Futile Devices Scans

“Junior Brother?” Peng Jing asked Han Zichuang, concern evident in his expression. They had come here to establish their supportive position by Chen Yixin’s side, but Chen Yixin was clearly different from people like Jing Zhihua. He held not the slightest trust toward the Heaven’s Secret Sect, much less compared to his Dao companion Wenren Li.

“No need to rush,” Han Zichuang said, also stepping out from the gates of the Jade Cauldron Sect.

After several encounters, he had come to understand what he had missed. The current Chen Yixin was completely different from the one a hundred years ago. Having endured unimaginable suffering and calamity, he had forged a Dao heart now approaching perfection.

Chen Yixin not only had no intention of relying on the Heaven’s Secret Sect—even the Li Kui Demon Palace was not something he would depend on much. This was the mindset of a true powerhouse, the bearing of a Divine Son who could rebuild himself into a god.

Han Zichuang had not gone far when Yun Yazi, having come to his senses, blocked his path. Earlier, with Chen Yixin present, Yun Yazi had his reservations, but now he had none.

“Master Han, you’re leaving just like that without giving me an explanation?”

“Even if I told you, what could you change?”

Han Zichuang paused, his expression resolute and without regret. But was there truly no regret? He could feel that in the days to come, that near-regret would only grow stronger.

If his emotional tribulation were only about Chen Yixin, then severing it would be that. But Chen Yixin was the Divine Son—had he also severed the immortal path of the Heaven’s Secret Sect along with it?

“Look forward,” he continued. “After all… you are still his master.”

Yun Yazi had once been someone Chen Yixin regarded as half a father, someone he trusted most deeply. To Chen Yixin, he was unquestionably special. Perhaps that bond had not been completely extinguished.

“Too late… it’s all too late, hahaha…”

But Yun Yazi, who understood Chen Yixin better than Han Zichuang, revealed a desolate expression. His laughter sounded like sobbing, fading into the distance. No one in the Jade Cauldron Sect could console him now, because whether deeply or faintly, they all felt the same.

Once, they had been the closest to the Divine Son, yet they had personally pushed him away—and in a way that could never be undone.

From the Jade Cauldron Sect to Zhenhai City by the Northern Sea, the journey took three days at a steady pace. Only a hundred demon guards remained; the rest had been sent back to the Southern Domain by Chen Yixin. They also switched flying artifacts, as they did not wish to attract too much attention upon returning to Zhenhai.

By now, his identity had spread throughout Taixuan. Whether those who flattered him or those who sought to hunt him down, he had no interest in entertaining either.

Without alerting anyone, they flew directly to Little Bamboo Islet north of Zhenhai—a small island that still belonged solely to Chen Yixin.

Chen Yixin carried Wenren Li into the small bamboo house, set him down on the bed, then leaned in, rubbing his cheek against Wenren Li’s before calling softly, “A-Li…”

After spending so much time together, how could Wenren Li not understand what Chen Yixin meant by that tone? His hand wrapped around Chen Yixin’s, and with a pull, he pressed him down. At the same time, he transformed back—silver hair cascading like a waterfall, clothed only in a thin inner robe.

Chen Yixin cupped Wenren Li’s face, planting enthusiastic kisses all over it.

He pecked Wenren Li’s lips, cheeks slightly flushed as he invited softly, “I want A-Li.”

Wenren Li’s hand left Chen Yixin’s waist and waved outward, forming a barrier. Worried that time wouldn’t be enough, Chen Yixin removed his own clothes entirely.

“We’ll have to be quick.”

“Alright.” Wenren Li’s throat tightened slightly as he responded, lowering his head to kiss Chen Yixin’s vividly red lips, lingering and entangling as though to draw out each other’s very souls.

Chen Yixin’s breathing gradually quickened, soft sounds escaping him. At first, he still remembered they needed to hurry, but under Wenren Li’s touch, he forgot all about urgency and gave himself over completely.

“A-Li… A-Li…”

“I’m here,” Wenren Li replied, placing a kiss on Chen Yixin’s forehead. His soul entered Chen Yixin’s sea of consciousness, bodies colliding, souls merging, marking and possessing each other completely.

The barrier Wenren Li set only prevented Nan Ke and the others from entering. The aura he released in his passion was not fully contained. Nan Ke and the others, experienced as they were, showed no surprise at the wildly growing vegetation. Still, he sent people to Chen Yixin’s burial mound to ensure it wasn’t overrun.

Otherwise, when they finished and came out to pay respects, only to find no grave left—that would be his failure.

Yet something was different from before. The bamboo on Little Bamboo Islet did not grow wildly. Instead, a kind of blue flower spread everywhere—across the hills, even blooming in the cracks of seaside rocks.

Nan Ke, a Nascent Soul cultivator, had traveled widely but had never seen such flowers in Taixuan. Each bloom was about half a palm in size, radiant and fragrant without being overwhelming.

Little Bamboo Islet had become even more beautiful. Nan Ke ordered the grave area cleared, leaving the rest untouched.

Their intimacy lasted until evening. Wenren Li had not yet reverted to his smaller form. Chen Yixin gazed at him fondly, still clinging to him despite his slightly sore body, touching his face, his hair, rubbing against him, wanting more…

“Shall we go out for a walk?” Wenren Li asked, dressing himself and then helping Chen Yixin dress. His spiritual power flowed into Chen Yixin, instantly dispelling any discomfort.

“Alright,” Chen Yixin nodded. It had been quite a while since he had walked with Wenren Li like this.

“Ah…” As the door opened, Chen Yixin exclaimed. The scenery before him was breathtaking beyond expectation. He turned to Wenren Li, smiling knowingly—Wenren Li must have wanted to see this reaction.

Chen Yixin pressed his lips together, unable to hold back. Letting go of Wenren Li’s hand, he ran ahead, then glanced back before suddenly sprinting out of sight.

Wenren Li’s expression softened, a faint smile appearing. He did not immediately chase after him. Instead, he bent slightly, his hand hovering above the blooming blue flowers.

“Phoenix Flowers,” he murmured. In that strange place, such flowers had also bloomed everywhere. They were likely Chen Yixin’s companion flowers—wherever he stayed, they would gradually fill the land without needing to be planted.

Chen Yixin stood before his own tombstone, glancing back repeatedly. After a long while, Wenren Li finally arrived. Chen Yixin stepped forward, grabbed his hand, and pulled him along.

“Why are you so slow?”

Wenren Li did not argue, letting himself be led. His gaze fell upon the tombstone.

“A-Li doesn’t like it?” Chen Yixin turned back to look and also felt that this tombstone was somewhat inauspicious. He was clearly still alive, yet he had erected a burial mound for himself.

“No, it just feels too lonely,” Wenren Li said as he stepped forward. With a sweep of his palm over the tombstone, the single line of large characters changed into two lines. Beside the line “Tomb of Chen Yixin, the Beauty Who Enchanted the Taixuan Realm,” there now appeared the words “Dao Companion Wenren Li.”

Wenren Li searched through his storage ring, found a set of old clothes, and placed them together with the old garments Chen Yixin had buried.

Chen Yixin had already been moved by the flowers covering the mountains, and now he was moved again by Wenren Li’s actions. This time he didn’t run away—he turned and threw himself into Wenren Li’s arms, hugging his waist tightly.

“A-Li is my tree, always my tree.”

“Alright,” Wenren Li replied, embracing Chen Yixin and gently rubbing his hair. They stood like that, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, from dusk until the sky filled with stars.

“How can A-Li maintain this form for so long this time?” Chen Yixin asked, referring to Wenren Li’s ability to remain in his adult form. He added with slight regret, “If I had known, we should have stayed in the room longer…”

When the heart is stirred, desire follows. Chen Yixin had always been frank about his desires.

Wenren Li paused in his motion of stroking Chen Yixin’s hair, then lifted him up—not toward the bamboo house, but toward the field of Phoenix Flowers before them.

Where he walked, the Phoenix Flowers continued to grow, their stems and leaves intertwining layer upon layer to form a flower bed. Around it rose low walls of blossoms, until it became a flower house.

The Phoenix Flowers swayed in the wind, faint glowing pollen drifting through the air. Countless blossoms bloomed together, their soft luminescence enough to let them see each other clearly.

Chen Yixin wrapped his arms around Wenren Li’s neck, obediently letting himself be laid down on the flower bed.

The surroundings were beautiful—more beautiful than at dusk—but his gaze could not leave the person before him. He studied Wenren Li carefully, as if no matter how many times he had memorized him, he still wanted to look again.

“A-Li…” Chen Yixin called softly, only to have Wenren Li press a finger to his lips.

“The Phoenix Flowers will sing for A-Rong too. Listen carefully.”

Chen Yixin blinked but had no intention of listening. He tilted his face upward, his slightly pouted lips covering Wenren Li’s. He kissed gently, tenderly, his eyes half-lidded with rising emotion.

A moment of spring night is worth a thousand gold. Songs could be heard tomorrow—what mattered now was that he wanted Wenren Li again.

His meaning was clear enough. Wenren Li could only set aside his earlier intention of helping Chen Yixin comprehend the Six Arts of the Burning Heaven Nether Palace. Though the Six Arts were important, they were still less important than “feeding” his Demon Consort.

On the softly glowing flower bed, with the openly passionate person before him, Wenren Li could not have restrained himself even if he tried.

Seize the joy of the present—only then can one have no regrets.

In the end, Chen Yixin fell asleep in Wenren Li’s arms, overwhelmed by bliss. He dreamed of cheerful songs, of a tree he loved, and of himself as a lively little bird—singing, dancing, and resting upon his tree.

When Chen Yixin woke again, they had already returned from the flower field to the bamboo house. Wenren Li had dressed him, but the person who had entwined with him the night before had returned to his child form, sitting seriously at his bedside.

“A-Rong is awake.”

As soon as Wenren Li finished speaking, Chen Yixin—still half-asleep—pulled him onto the bed, showering him with enthusiastic kisses, squeezing and hugging him. He lingered like this for quite a while before finally getting up and going outside.

The glowing phenomenon on Little Bamboo Islet the previous night had already attracted cultivators from Zhenhai City. Because of the barrier, none dared to force entry, but more and more spirit boats were circling the island.

Among them were naturally members of the Chen clan. Not long after Chen Yixin stepped out, Nan Ke came to report that the old steward had come seeking an audience.

“Let him in.”

Chen Yixin remembered this old steward. Sitting on a long bench, he let Wenren Li feed him water, then glanced sideways. It was the same steward from years ago, though visibly older.

“Great Ancestor, it really is you,” the old steward said, visibly emotional. He bowed, then felt it insufficient and knelt in full salute.

“Didn’t I say? I’d come back to visit the grave when I had time.”

After speaking, Chen Yixin turned back to drink the spiritual spring water Wenren Li offered. Smacking his lips, he added, “Go tell the old man I’ll return to the residence tomorrow. Also, have my room cleaned—I and Xiao Hua will stay there for a few days.”

“Yes.”

The old steward wiped tears from his eyes, his joy undisguised.

Seeing him pleasing to the eye, Chen Yixin was generous. With a flick of his hand, a bottle of pills landed in the steward’s palm.

“This is for you. Cultivate well in seclusion and continue guarding Little Bamboo Islet for me.”

“Yes.”

The old steward was so overwhelmed with gratitude that he could hardly speak. His hands trembled as he held the porcelain bottle. He knelt again, kowtowed three times, and then left to deliver the message.

Chen Yixin watched him go, a faint smile appearing on his lips. Leaning his head onto Wenren Li’s small shoulder, he began speaking.

“Little Bamboo Islet is said to be where I was born. My mother died less than three months after giving birth to me. The first time I came here after I could remember things, the old man brought me.”

He continued murmuring, explaining why he had returned.

“The old man looks exactly like that person in the Upper Realm. That can’t be a coincidence…”

He didn’t remember his mother’s appearance, but the father who raised him and later sent him to the Jade Cauldron Sect—there was no way he could be mistaken.

Chen Yixin called his father in this life “the old man,” and his father in his previous life “that person.” Not calling them by name was already lenient enough in his opinion.

“My mother probably didn’t really die either… otherwise the old man wouldn’t have shown no sadness at all…”

He continued rubbing against Wenren Li, feeling both that he might have misunderstood and a bit annoyed at being kept in the dark.

“Hmph, at least he wasn’t completely foolish—he was willing to marry me off to you.”

Wenren Li couldn’t help but smile. He rubbed Chen Yixin’s hair, then paused before returning to his adult form, pulling Chen Yixin—who was still nuzzling him—into his arms.

“The divine light from your tribulation, and the immortal light from the Heaven’s Secret Sect’s test, both benefit me.”

The light they had been bathed in had not dissipated—it had been absorbed by him. That was why he had been able to stay in his adult form for so long the previous day.

Hearing this, Chen Yixin wrapped his arms around Wenren Li’s neck and planted a loud kiss on his lips.

“Then I’ll find more of those for you. I’ll raise A-Li’s little sapling into something tall, strong, and sturdy.”

“Then when A-Li blooms, let it bloom only for me to see, alright?”

As the warm moment came to an end, Chen Yixin still had to tease Wenren Li a little before letting him go.

“Alright,” Wenren Li nodded in agreement. If he could bloom, he would only bloom for Chen Yixin to see, and only be willing to bloom for him.

Chen Yixin tilted his head, blinking at Wenren Li. He leaned closer, his lips lightly brushing against Wenren Li’s. Their gazes met, and then they exchanged a moist, sweet kiss.

After the kiss, Chen Yixin took Wenren Li’s hand and stood up. They walked toward the flower house where they had stayed the previous day—he hadn’t forgotten that Wenren Li wanted him to listen to the song.

Wenren Li sat on the flower bed, while Chen Yixin sat on the ground in the flower field, resting his head against Wenren Li’s thigh, listening like that.

“Why don’t the Phoenix Flowers in the Burning Heaven Nether Palace sing?” In the strange land of the Burning Heaven Nether Palace, there was no night, so they couldn’t see last night’s wondrous scene. But the Phoenix Flower field there felt like a dead place—it had never given Chen Yixin this kind of vibrant vitality.

Wenren Li’s hand rested on Chen Yixin’s hair, gently stroking it. He pondered for a moment before answering, “Because that place is stained with A-Rong’s blood and tears.” The Phoenix Flowers wept for it—how could they sing?

But the Phoenix Flowers blooming across this Little Bamboo Islet came from their dual cultivation; he could nurture all living things, and since this was the place where Chen Yixin was born, it naturally carried companion flower seeds, which was why the current scenery existed.

Having received his answer, Chen Yixin continued leaning against Wenren Li’s thigh, closing his eyes and listening to the song.

Day faded away, and when night came, it was once again filled with those faint glowing lights that inspired awe. Chen Yixin stood up from the ground, pulled Wenren Li outside the flower house, and smiled lightly. “I’ll dance for A-Li.”

After learning this technique in the Burning Heaven Nether Palace, he rarely used it unless necessary. But now, he wanted to dance for Wenren Li in this Phoenix Flower field, to make this beautiful moment even more beautiful.

Wenren Li didn’t respond. Chen Yixin stepped back slightly and began to dance. His wide sleeves fluttered like the wings of a phoenix; the bells at his ankles chimed softly, each sound bewitching the heart.

“Phoenix, oh phoenix, return to your homeland, roaming the seas in search of your mate.”

His steps quickened. Chen Yixin rose with the glow and starlight, lightly pulling Wenren Li along. Wenren Li turned, only catching sight of Chen Yixin’s sleeve disappearing. After searching for a moment, he simply stood still.

When he stopped moving, Chen Yixin came close again, brushing lightly against his cheek before retreating. Wenren Li followed immediately, pulling the teasing figure into his arms.

“Beautiful.” Wenren Li wanted to say many words of praise, but his talent with language wasn’t great. In the end, nothing felt more direct than this. He repeated it several times, “Beautiful, beautiful…”

What pleased Chen Yixin wasn’t the simplicity of the words, but Wenren Li’s serious and earnest expression.

He stopped dancing, resting his head on Wenren Li’s shoulder and letting him carry him back down into the flower field. He softly requested, “Then from now on, A-Li can only watch me dance, and can only say that I’m beautiful. Remember that.”

If he was willing to dance for Wenren Li, then Wenren Li should only watch his dance.

“Mm,” Wenren Li agreed. To him, this wasn’t a demand. After seeing Chen Yixin’s dance, how could he pay attention to anyone else’s? No matter how good they were, they weren’t his. Only his A-Rong belonged to him—and was the only one he wanted.

But the moment they landed, tens of thousands of Phoenix Flowers shed their petals at once. They filled the sky as they fell, threads of fragrant glowing light gathering together, condensing into a pale blue pearl. Chen Yixin reached out, and the pearl landed in his palm.

He held it for a moment, then pressed it to Wenren Li’s forehead.

“A-Li doesn’t know—in this Taixuan, only I can gather immortal light for you. Do you like it?”

The Phoenix Flowers were key, but even more crucial was Chen Yixin’s dance. Without either, immortal light could never condense in this Taixuan. As he spoke, his lips curved in an undisguised smile of delight.

He was happy that he could do something only he could do for the one he loved.

“I like it,” Wenren Li said. The immortal light at his forehead hadn’t been fully absorbed, yet he didn’t close his eyes to cultivate immediately. Instead, he looked at Chen Yixin’s smiling face and lowered his head, kissing his lips gently and passionately.

“I like A-Rong.”

Chen Yixin’s heartbeat quickened with Wenren Li’s kiss and confession. The once bold and passionate person gradually softened within the kiss. He yielded to it, allowed himself to be held, then undressed—accepting everything, and delighting in it.

As expected, after a night of intimacy, Chen Yixin fell asleep near dawn, only waking at noon. Meanwhile, people at the Chen family estate in Zhenhai had been waiting for them for half a day. Father Chen sighed helplessly and was about to return inside when the old steward came running in excitedly. “The ancestral uncle has returned.”

To be precise, the ancestral uncle had returned with his man. When they arrived, his cheeks were flushed, his springtime affection completely undisguised. Even from afar, one could see Chen Yixin’s heartfelt joy—he had always been happy with Wenren Li.

Even during those years in the Upper Realm when he was hunted, with Wenren Li’s true form rooted in his heart, he never felt it was suffering.

“Have everyone else disperse. Let him come back to the Wutong Courtyard,” Father Chen said after spotting Chen Yixin from afar. Then he turned and walked back.

Chen Yixin had lived over a hundred and forty years; the Chen clan had long branched out. Even the steward called him ancestral uncle, showing how high his seniority was. Having left home early, he no longer recognized many people. Seeing things changed and people gone didn’t make him sad, but neither did he feel inclined for pleasantries—better not to meet them at all.

After hearing the steward, he continued holding Wenren Li’s hand and walked into the inner courtyard. The Wutong Courtyard was their family’s residence, and Chen Yixin’s old room was there.

“Old man, I’m back.”

Chen Yixin called out before entering with Wenren Li. Because of the immortal light gathered the night before, Wenren Li could maintain his adult form for a few more days.

Little Wenren Li was cute and adorable, and Chen Yixin liked that. But for closeness, it was a bit inconvenient—having just tasted intimacy not long ago, Chen Yixin naturally preferred Wenren Li’s adult form.

Father Chen had late Foundation Establishment cultivation, but was over a hundred seventy years old. He looked like a handsome middle-aged man. Sitting under the wutong tree, he glanced over once before looking away, continuing to brew tea.

Chen Yixin didn’t feel slighted at all. This was his home—he was completely at ease. He pulled Wenren Li down to sit, the two of them squeezing onto one chair, openly affectionate.

“What are you looking at? You only put out one chair, so of course A-Li and I have to sit together.”

If he wanted Wenren Li to stand and watch them talk, he should consider whether his son would allow it.

Father Chen’s face stiffened slightly. He glared at Wenren Li before restraining himself and pouring the tea into white jade cups.

“A-Li, drink,” Chen Yixin said, naturally taking a cup and bringing it to Wenren Li’s lips. “The old man’s only good at making tea.”

“Jiu’er…” Father Chen couldn’t help but interject. He was still sitting right there—since when had he become so nonexistent?

Chen Yixin handed the cup to Wenren Li, then turned to look at him, his expression turning serious. “Jiu’er?”

He had originally thought Father Chen called him that because of family ranking. But in the palace spirit’s memories, the Phoenix Divine Clan’s Emperor had called him the same way.

“What, do you want your father to call you ‘Demon Consort’ like everyone else?” Father Chen’s tone sharpened. A perfectly good son—why did he insist on tying himself to a tree that would never grow up, lifetime after lifetime?

“You can call me that—I’ll answer,” Chen Yixin replied softly, completely shameless. Since childhood, he had never been intimidated by Father Chen. As he spoke, he even glanced shyly at Wenren Li—like a married-off son whose heart had entirely gone to his man.

Author’s Note: A sweet, sweet chapter~~~

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