FU JING SLIPPED THROUGH the moon gate, leapt from the balcony and nimbly landed on the broad, deserted street below.

The moment his feet touched the ground, Fu Jing shot forward, his heart beating wildly as he ran for his dear life. The sound of his own harsh breath and the pounding of his feet on the cobbled path were the only things he heard while he dashed through the palace’s courtyards and bolted through the main gate.

He kept running for as long as his legs would take him. And boy, did he have stamina! He followed the path he’d carefully prepared in advance, his pace unrelenting.

Once he reached uncharted territory, he relied on his instincts. He had an approximate direction in mind, and with the Southern gate closed, he headed to the next closest option—the Eastern gate. As he sprinted through the forest he hadn’t explored yet, he pushed through branch wood and underbrush.

When his lungs started to burn and his legs began to grow numb, he scanned the area for a suitable hiding place—a cave, a hollow tree, anything that might provide cover. It wasn’t until he was barely able to breathe that his pace slowed down.

Fu Jing didn’t know what time it was, but he knew that the next day had already begun. Fortunately, his cultivation was advanced enough for him to go without sleep or food for several days.

After a while, he found a sturdy tree with a wide trunk that looked promising for a brief rest. Sitting with his back against the rough bark, he closed his eyes to regain some strength. As he meditated, he made sure to expand his consciousness, constantly on high alert.

As soon as his breathing had stabilised and the numbness in his legs had receded, he continued his flight.

Over the following days, Fu Jing pressed on through the woods, passing through several villages, rushing down a long path through plain fields, and navigating more forests. He crossed multiple rivers, even hiked up and down a small mountain.

At times, Fu Jing found himself missing the comfort of Xuan Qi’s bed, the softness of the sheets, and the strange warmth of Xuan Qi’s arm around him. He truly missed the pampered life he’d had in the palace. But once he was back home, he would have a much better life, so he kept pushing forward.

With each step, the distance between him and Xuan Qi’s palace increased—and with it, the confidence that he could escape.

Curiously enough, not once on his entire journey had he been attacked by a demon.

He’d rested in nature and slept a few times in guest houses as he passed through villages. No one ever questioned his presence, even offering directions to the Eastern gate without hesitation. Xuan Qi’s scent must be truly strong.

Over a week later, Fu Jing had already crossed the border into the Eastern territory. Here, Xuan Qi was no longer a threat to him. With the Eastern gate so close he could almost taste his freedom, he hurried through a grassy meadow, his heart thundering in his chest.

The sky was already pitch-black, and the bright moon was shining down on him, casting an ethereal glow over the landscape. Even though the Eastern gate wasn’t far now, exhaustion began to weigh down on his body. His legs wouldn’t carry him much longer, so he kept an eye out for a guest house.

But even after walking for a while, no village came into sight. The scenery remained unchanged—a seemingly endless expanse of open fields stretching into the horizon, swallowed by darkness.

Fu Jing hadn’t thought it would take this long to find a village, but then again, if he couldn’t stay at a guest house, he’d simply meditate in the woods. He could still properly rest once he’d returned to the human realm.

The moment he’d finished this thought, he felt a cold prickle at his nape that made all the hairs on his neck stand up. A powerful, oppressive aura had appeared behind him, putting a heavy weight on Fu Jing’s heart.

He froze.

How was this possible?

How had he caught up this quickly?

No—Fu Jing shouldn’t have slowed down in the first place. But he’d had his guard up this entire time! Shouldn’t he have noticed his presence before he could’ve gotten this close?

Fu Jing slowly turned around, covered in cold sweat. While he was still mentally debating whether he should justify his actions or just apologise right away, he was suddenly shoved into the grass.

Anger immediately flared up in his chest, but before he could complain, Xuan Qi had dropped to one knee, seized him by the ankles, and yanked him close.

Fu Jing barely had time to react before Xuan Qi climbed on top of him, catching Fu Jing’s swinging arms and wrenching them over his head.

Fu Jing struggled against the strong hands that pinned him to the ground and yelled, “Can’t you think of another way to punish me?!”

But Xuan Qi was in no mood to talk. Fu Jing was about to demand an answer when Xuan Qi crushed their lips together, silencing him in an instant.

Already used to this treatment, Fu Jing wasn’t surprised. He continued to protest, the only difference being that all his grievances came out as muffled cries.

Shortly after, a familiar, sickening metallic taste coated his tongue, the stench wafting into his nose. Apparently, Xuan Qi had come prepared. His mouth had already been filled with his own blood.

Fu Jing’s heart was torn between resentment and fear. Yet, having endured this torment a couple of times before, his fear wasn’t as strong anymore. He was mainly pissed at this demon’s utter disregard for consent.

He whimpered, furiously thrashing his legs about, but it was futile. The demon didn’t relent in the slightest, keeping their lips locked, no matter how hard Fu Jing bit down.

His muffled cries turned into miserable sobs as the searing agony ripped through him once more. It’s been a nice two weeks with no tears rolling down his face. Now the counter was set back to zero.

I didn’t miss this! Not one bit!!

His taut muscles contracted as brutal cramps gripped his body, his back repeatedly arching off the ground before slamming back down in a fit of uncontrollable jerks.

When Fu Jing’s vision wasn’t blurred by hot, unrelenting tears, it was filled with the sight of the demon’s face.

Xuan Qi’s eyes were tightly shut, his expression strained, a vein protruding from his temple.

Only when the convulsion of Fu Jing’s body stopped did Xuan Qi finally pull back. He remained on top of Fu Jing, his breath ragged and uneven.

Fu Jing’s own chest heaved violently, his back drenched in sweat.

Both their mouths were smeared with Xuan Qi’s blood, the scent thick in the air.

Fu Jing angrily stared ahead, his pulse pounding with pure rage. His jaw was clenched tight, his lips pressed into a thin line as his hands curled into fists.

Between trembling sobs and shaky gasps, Fu Jing bit through gritted teeth, “Get. Off. Me.”

At last, Xuan Qi rose to his feet, but still didn’t say a word. Fu Jing sensed the fury radiating from the demon.

The feeling is mutual! Fu Jing fumed. Propping himself up on his elbows, he shot Xuan Qi a fierce glare—one the demon returned with equal intensity as he forcefully wiped the blood from his mouth.

“Get up.”

“No,” Fu Jing responded obstinately. “I won’t. I won’t go back! I want to go home!!”

“I am your new home!” Xuan Qi snapped, his deep voice rumbling like thunder. He then pulled Fu Jing up from the ground and threw him—once again—over his shoulder.

“No!! I’m not going back!” Fu Jing cried, hammering at Xuan Qi’s back, his feet kicking wildly in the air.

Xuan Qi only tightened the grip around the back of Fu Jing’s thighs.

“Let go!! Let me go!!” Fu Jing roared, unable to contain his sobs any longer. “Why won’t you let me go?!”

“Because you’re mine now.”

Fu Jing had no words. What did that even mean?! He clutched the fabric of Xuan Qi’s red vest, his fingers tightening in desperation as he continued to sob uncontrollably.

Xuan Qi carried Fu Jing to the nearest road house—in the opposite direction of the Eastern gate. When they arrived, tears were still dripping from Fu Jing’s eyes, but his sobs had died down.

The two didn’t exchange a single word the entire way. In front of the road house, Xuan Qi let Fu Jing down and, with a tight grip around his wrist, dragged him inside.

Fu Jing let himself be pulled along, his gaze as lifeless as his body.

At the counter, Xian Qi dropped a few coins on the wooden surface. “One room.”

The owner knew better than to question his esteemed patrons and led them to a private chamber. Fu Jing walked right behind the owner, followed by Xuan Qi.

Fu Jing entered the room first.

Before closing the door behind himself, Xuan Qi addressed the owner. “Tell your staff we’re not to be disturbed.”

The owner acknowledged his request.

Xuan Qi let himself drop heavily on one of the two wooden chairs in the room, massaging the bridge of his nose. Fu Jing still stood in the middle of the room, clutching his robes.

“Get on the bed,” Xuan Qi commanded.

But Fu Jing didn’t move, as if rooted to the spot.

“I won’t touch you.”

These words acted like a releasing spell. Fu Jing immediately scrambled onto the bed and curled up, his back pointedly turned to Xuan Qi.

A heavy silence fell over the room. It stretched on for a long while until Fu Jing, once again, broke it.

“Can you at least get me fresh robes?” he asked, his voice tight. The top of his robes was soaked with blood again, and the metallic stench was nauseating.

“Yeah right, so you can run off again?”

“I won’t.”

“You just proved the opposite,” Xuan Qi retorted. “Do you have any idea how lucky you are that I’m not keeping you on a leash? Instead, you’re free to roam around, and all I ask is that you abide by the rules!”

“You kidnapped me!” Fu Jing snapped back.

“You came here out of your own volition. You have no one to blame but your own pride!”

They glared at each other, the air crackling with tension. Left with no arguments, Fu Jing lowered his gaze, fresh tears filling his eyes.

Despite his irritation, Xuan Qi rose from his chair and rang the bell to summon the owner, instructing him to purchase a new robe for Fu Jing.

The next morning, Xuan Qi was awake as early as ever. Without warning, he ripped the blanket off Fu Jing and tossed it aside. 

“Get up. We’re leaving.”

Fu Jing refused to move. “I’m not going.”

Xuan Qi grabbed Fu Jing by the lapels and pulled him up, stopping mere inches from his face.

“I’m losing my patience, human,” he said with an annoyed grin.

 “Let me go, then.”

Xuan Qi responded with a furious huff. But no matter how hard he tore, tugged, yanked, or hauled, Fu Jing wouldn’t budge. He struggled with all his might, making it impossible for Xuan Qi to move forward.

Until, from one second to the next, Fu Jing’s vision went dark.

Having reached the limit of his patience, Xuan Qi had knocked him unconscious by swiftly and firmly pressing one of Fu Jing’s acupoints.

When Fu Jing’s eyes fluttered open again, he was slung over Xuan Qi’s shoulder. He grunted.

“Awake? We’re here,” Xuan Qi said, before lowering him to his feet.

Fu Jing blinked a few times, his gaze still bleary, and turned around.

They were back at the palace.

His heart went cold. He was dizzy and exhausted, the horrific realisation adding to his discomfort.

Had he really been unconscious for two weeks?

Impossible.

The lingering ache throughout his body was still too fresh, too raw.

He pressed a hand to his temple, trying to steady his spinning head.

A wave of nausea rolled through him, though he couldn’t tell whether it stemmed from Xuan Qi’s latest abuse or from being back here, at the place of his agony.

Or from both.

The magnificent towers of the palace loomed over him like dark, sinister shadows as if they were looking down on him, mocking him.

His sallow complexion blanched even more.

To make matters worse, his legs were trembling from his sore muscles. His knees threatened to buckle and he felt like throwing up, but he refused to show any more weakness in front of the demon. Biting down on his bottom lip, he fought back the tears that were on the brink of coming out again.

“The same rules apply,” Xuan Qi said, not deigning a look at Fu Jing.

Fu Jing would’ve loved to run straight to Xuan Qi’s bed, but he knew his legs would give out if he took even a single step. So he just stood there, his whole body shaking like a leaf.

Xuan Qi finally glanced at him. Seeing that Fu Jing made no effort to move, he wanted to carry him to his room. But the second his arm twitched, Fu Jing growled, “Do not. Touch me.”

Xuan Qi paused briefly, but then disregarded Fu Jing’s demand. With one arm around Fu Jing’s shoulders and the other behind his knees, he swiftly scooped him up.

Fu Jing had no strength left to struggle, so he simply crossed his arms in protest. His brows were knitted into a deep scowl as he was carried through the main gate.

When they entered the grand entrance hall, they were greeted by two rows of yao servants, all bent on one knee, their heads bowed in silent deference.

A cursory glance at the group forced Fu Jing to do a double take.

One servant was missing.