AFTER PICKING UP Xiao Song, who’d obediently been waiting at the tavern, Fu Jing decided to visit the Southern gate. They arrived after three days of leisure travel.

“Here it is,” Fu Jing announced, gesturing toward the locked gate. Xiao Song stared at it with wide, curious eyes, his tail flicking.

The gate stood as it always had, flanked by two unmoving threshold guardians carved into tall wooden pillars, their surfaces gleaming with brilliant gold. Between them, the ever-present barrier shimmered, its translucent light swirling in slow, mesmerising currents, almost serene in their movement.

Fu Jing rapped his knuckles against the barrier, which rippled like a fluid, but felt as solid as wood.

“See? It’s blocked,” he said.

He moved to one of the gilded pillars, his fingers gently trailing over its intricate carvings. “I already checked for spells and incantations… anything, really. If I knew what kind of magic he used, I could at least do some research and learn how to break it. But I found nothing to work with.”

Sighing, he squatted next to Xiao Song, who sat in front of the barrier, his tail curled neatly around his paws. Hugging his knees, Fu Jing rested his cheek on them. “There’s no escape. I feel like a kidnapped princess, who’s forced to be the monster’s bride.”

Another sigh. “And now that he destroyed my weapon, I don’t know what else to do. Even exploring this realm has its limits…”

Xiao Song patiently listened to Fu Jing’s lament, then his ears suddenly perked up.

“Meow!”

Fu Jing looked at him, startled by the abrupt enthusiasm. “Hm?”

It almost seemed like Xiao Song had an idea. His eyes darted around as if searching for something before landing on a spot above them.

Since the kitten couldn’t speak or write, he had to find another way to communicate. He swiftly leapt up the trunk of a nearby tree until he reached a high branch. There, he began to gesticulate wildly with his little paw.

Fu Jing squinted his eyes to figure out what Xiao Song was trying to say until he recognised a bird’s nest.

“A… nest?”

Xiao Song nodded vigorously, pointing from the nest to Fu Jing, then to himself. He repeated the motion as if to emphasise his point.

Fu Jing frowned. “You want a nest? For us?” Then it clicked. “You want me to build a home for us?”

“Meow!!” Xiao Song exclaimed in delight. He then scampered back down and jumped into Fu Jing’s arms, gazing up at him with big, bright eyes.

Fu Jing beamed right back at him. That was a brilliant idea!

Months passed as Fu Jing roamed the demon realm with his cat companion, gradually collecting material to construct their home. Building it from scratch without the aid of his spiritual powers was a slow and laborious process, but Fu Jing didn’t mind.

They weren’t in any rush, and as long as they were free to stay at guest houses and sleep in the warm comfort of a bed, they had all the time in the world.

One particular guest house, situated near the capital, soon became their favourite establishment. It was the very same place where Fu Jing had gotten drunk for the first time.

And since it had helped him endure the monthly torment, Fu Jing continued to drink his fill before visiting Xuan Qi to appease the curse.

As a result, the pungent smell of alcohol burned into Xuan Qi’s nose, while the soft tinkling of the wind chimes on Xuan Qi’s balcony etched itself into Fu Jing’s ears.

When he was drunk, Fu Jing lost all his inhibitions. Throwing all dignity overboard, he moaned and groaned without restraint to endure the searing agony that burned him from the inside out.

Fortunately, the alcohol dulled the worst of it, blurring the edges of his torment and making the pain just bearable enough.

During one of the months, Fu Jing and Xiao Song happened upon a lively Lunar Festival. Fu Jing was astonished to see this event celebrated in the demon realm as well. Driven by curiosity, he couldn’t help but take a look.

Lanterns of all colours floated in the streets, casting a kaleidoscope of light across the cobblestones while the air buzzed with excitement.

As Fu Jing strolled down the broad street with little Xiao Song in his arms, he was struck by a powerful wave of homesickness.

Even if the street was filled with demons and yao, everything around him reminded him of the human realm. The lanterns, the food stalls, the crowded street—even the cheerful laughter of children as they ran around with their toys and sweets.

His thoughts drifted to the time when he and his companions had spent their first festival with Liang Feng.

Fu Jing and his two companions had arrived early, heading straight to the festival after their latest mission. They were waiting near the entrance, deep in conversation, when Liang Feng finally arrived about half an incense time later.

He was energetically waving an arm and calling out for his seniors, his voice brimming with excitement. Ever eager, he was practically bursting with energy.

While Jin Yang teased Liang Feng for idolising Fu Jing, Chen Xing had gone to buy tanghulu and mooncakes for everyone.

As the scene of the past played out in his mind’s eye, Fu Jing could almost see the shadows of his friends in front of him, hearing the vanishing echoes of their laughter.

A gentle nudge against his chin snapped Fu Jing back to the present. He looked down at Xiao Song and smiled, wiping away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes.

“Let’s get a snack,” he suggested, and Xiao Song replied with an approving “Meow!”

They wandered down the street until Fu Jing found a stall selling something that looked like colourful mooncakes. Since it already felt like he was walking down memory lane, he couldn’t resist buying a piece.

Just as he was about to take a bite, someone grabbed his wrist and stopped him.

“Haven’t you learned your lesson?”

At the sound of this familiar, deep voice, Fu Jing’s face dropped drastically. “Ugh, it’s you. What are you doing here?”

Though Xuan Qi smiled, a vein popped out on his forehead. “Am I not allowed to enjoy a festival of my people?”

“It’s such a huge festival, why’d you have to run into me?”

Xuan Qi raised his eyebrows, not sure whether he should be amused or annoyed by Fu Jing’s insolence. “My senses were telling me you were up to something. Again.”

“Well, I’m not. You can leave now. Best if you go aaaaaaall the way back there,” Fu Jing said, pointing at the other end of the crowd.

“…”

Determined to pay no further attention to the demon, Fu Jing finally wanted to have a taste of the mooncake—but Xuan Qi beat him to it. Without warning, he bent down to have the first bite. His bite, however, was so huge it almost devoured half of the cake.

“What the–?!” Fu Jing exclaimed.

Still chewing, Xuan Qi shrugged. “Gotta taste if it’s poisonous. You never know, y’know.” He let go of Fu Jing’s wrist. “Seems to be fine, though.” With a grin, he patted Fu Jing’s shoulder. “Enjoy.”

And then, he finally left in the direction Fu Jing had pointed at.

Fu Jing was left speechless, staring at the remains of his mooncake, now just a crescent.

Time flew by swiftly.

Two months had passed since the festival, marking Fu Jing’s eighth month in the demon realm. He wondered if his friends and family still considered him missing, or if they’d given up hope and had pronounced him dead by now.

He’d ventured into the demon realm after all, and since he hadn’t returned… He certainly wouldn’t blame them if they had.

Fu Jing was currently working on the cottage for himself and Xiao Song. He was determined to make it cosy yet elegant. The basic framework was already in place, built from rough-hewn timber. Before he could focus on the finer details, though, he first needed to install a door and reinforce both the walls and the roof.

As he wiped the sweat from his brow, his eyes drifted toward the sky. The moon was almost full. A deep sigh escaped him.

“Ugh, I have to go to the palace,” he told Xiao Song. “I’ll be back soon.”

They returned to the guest house, where Fu Jing got drunk and Xiao Song waited for him at the usual spot—their room above the tavern.

That night, Fu Jing gracefully climbed into Xuan Qi’s room through the window.

Over the past few months, he’d come up with many creative ways to get into the demon’s chamber, so Xuan Qi was hardly surprised to see him enter in such an unconventional way.

What made him choke, however, was the unusual greeting.

“Helloooo… husband!”

Xuan Qi’s stately figure faltered. He turned to look at Fu Jing with wide eyes, his expression more than concerned. “What did you do?”

“Huh?”

“You must’ve done something terrible, otherwise why the nickname?”

“Well, I didn’t.”

Xuan Qi raised an eyebrow.

Fu Jing rolled his eyes. “You’re overthinking. But since I’m obligated to spend the night with you once a month and can’t fall in love with aaaanyone else… aren’t you basically my husband?” he mocked.

Xuan Qi regained his composure, his lips curling into a smirk. “Want to get married?”

Fu Jing strode past him, heading straight for the divan. “Will it break the curse?”

“Only if you truly love me.”

“Then, no.”

Xuan Qi sarcastically clutched his chest. “That answer came a little too fast.”

Crossing one leg over the other, Fu Jing shot him a false smile. “I’m drunk, not insane.”

Xuan Qi chuckled and sat down beside him, watching in silence as Fu Jing reached for the dagger. The intensity of the demon’s gaze unsettled Fu Jing, making him cast Xuan Qi a wary sidelong glance.

“Got something on my face?” he asked, irritated.

“Nope,” Xuan Qi replied, smiling as he held out his arm for Fu Jing.

While Fu Jing slit open the demon’s wrist, Xuan Qi suddenly leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

Fu Jing jerked back instantly. “What the fuck?!” Heat rushed to his face despite himself, colouring his cheeks a light red.

“You don’t have to suffer through the pain, y’know,” Xuan Qi mused.

“Shut up,” Fu Jing said flatly. “Me? Sleeping with a demon? Dream on.”

Xuan Qi’s smirk deepened. “What’s so wrong with that?”

Fu Jing’s patience snapped. “Could you please–” He took a deep breath to collect himself, then continued in a forced, calm tone, “Just get this over with, before I sober up completely?”

“Alright, alright.”

Fu Jing shut his eyes, bracing himself for the blood. He was fully prepared to feel the rough press of Xuan Qi’s lips, the warmth of the liquid being forced down his throat.

But Xuan Qi had other plans.

He seized Fu Jing’s wrist and pulled him onto his lap.

Fu Jing’s eyes flew open as he felt his balance tipping. Before he knew it, he was straddling the demon. He gripped Xuan Qi’s shoulders for support. Completely flustered, he gasped, “What the…?!”

Fu Jing’s pupils shrank, his balance tipping. Before he knew it, he was straddling the demon. His hands shot out, gripping Xuan Qi’s shoulders for support. Completely flustered, he gasped, “What the…?!”

“Just because you’re not allowed to enjoy yourself, doesn’t mean I can’t,” Xuan Qi explained with a grin as he lifted his bleeding wrist to his mouth.

Even drunk, this position was mortifying as it felt way too intimate, too salacious, too–

Before Fu Jing could protest any further, Xuan Qi quickly locked their lips, keeping them pressed together until the pain struck.

Fu Jing’s hands tightened around the demon’s shoulders, his fingers clutching the fabric of his vest.

Once Xuan Qi released the kiss, Fu Jing buried his face against Xuan Qi’s neck in a desperate attempt to hide. When that wasn’t enough to smother his shame, he bit down hard, his teeth sinking deep into the demon’s skin in an act of vengeance.

Xuan Qi let out a low groan, his grip on Fu Jing tightening momentarily. Then, he mirrored Fu Jing’s action with a soft kiss.

Horrified, Fu Jing recoiled and grabbed Xuan Qi by the hair, yanking his head back to level him with a furious glare. His chest was heaving violently, his entire body trembling and drenched in sweat.

“Stop that!” Fu Jing hissed.

Xuan Qi smiled lazily. His head leaned against the divan’s backrest, his silent gaze boring slowly and deeply into Fu Jing’s eyes.

A strange, almost unsettling expression faintly crossed the demon’s face. If Fu Jing didn’t know any better, he’d almost describe it as… tender.

He couldn’t stand the piercing intensity of the demon’s gaze, but for fear Xuan Qi would do something heinous again, Fu Jing didn’t dare bite him a second time.

Instead, he simply screwed his eyes shut, clenching his fists as the final wave of cramps wracked his body.

Then, his strength gave out. He collapsed against Xuan Qi, too exhausted to move.

After a moment of silence, broken only by Fu Jing’s soft and laboured panting, Xuan Qi spoke up, his voice deep and measured.

“Fu Jing.”

Peeved, Fu Jing muttered, “What?”

“Marry me.”