ANOTHER THREE WEEKS later, Fu Jing’s project was coming along wonderfully. It almost looked like a full-fledged cottage now.

It only had one room, the entire space easily taken in at a glance. An elegant divider, handcrafted by Fu Jing, separated the sleeping area from the dining area.

It was small, but cosy—and that’s all they needed.

Fu Jing stood with his hands on his hips, proudly admiring his work, while Xiao Song took a well-earned nap. The two had spent the entire morning shaping roof tiles from clay.

Fu Jing was about to call out to Xiao Song when he was startled by the sound of cracking branches behind him. He whirled around, only to see Xuan Qi approaching.

Fu Jing’s countenance instantly turned grim. “Ah. What do you want?”

The demon stopped beside Fu Jing and crossed his arms, his gaze settling on the wooden structure. Ignoring Fu Jing’s spiteful tone, he asked, “What are you doing?”

Fu Jing raised an eyebrow, gesturing broadly toward the cottage. “Building a house. …Are you blind?”

“…” Xuan Qi remained sceptical. “You already have a perfectly fine home,” he said, pointing with his thumb at the palace peeking through the trees in the distance.

Fu Jing snorted. “Very funny.”

Xuan Qi rolled his eyes and continued, “Anyways, you gotta stop.”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been taking all these resources without asking. People are complaining.”

“Ah?? I thought I was free to do whatever I want?”

“You are. But you need my approval first.”

Xuan Qi languidly raised an arm, his palm aiming at the small house.

Alarmed, Fu Jing quickly leapt in front of the cottage, frantically waving his hands. “No, no, no! Don’t! I’ll compensate them!”

“Oh?” Xuan Qi arched his eyebrows, but kept his arm raised. “How?”

Fu Jing rubbed his forehead. “I don’t know… what do they want?”

“Justice.”

Fu Jing breathed an exasperated sigh. “Can’t we just give them money?”

“Do you have any?”

“No. But you do.”

“Too bad my money isn’t yours.”

Fu Jing balled his hands into fists, anger roiling in his chest. “You owe me!”

“I owe you shit. But…” Xuan Qi tapped a finger against his chin, “There’s a way it could become yours, too,” he said, his face smug.

“I’m not going to marry you.”

“Well, then…” Xuan Qi directed his palm toward the cottage once more.

“No, no, no, wait!” Fu Jing said hastily, waving his hands. “Let me… Let me think about it… okay?”

Xuan Qi finally lowered his arm and sent Fu Jing a satisfied smile before leaving.

Seeing the demon’s triumphant expression, Fu Jing couldn’t shake the suspicion that there were no actual complaints—that Xuan Qi had simply made them up to force him into this dilemma.

Heavily dejected by his encounter with the demon, Fu Jing did what he knew best: drown his sorrows.

He was in his regular tavern at his regular spot by the counter. His body was slumped, his usually graceful posture pulled down by the weight of his thoughts. He didn’t know how many drinks he’d had when someone sat down beside him.

At first, Fu Jing didn’t want to acknowledge this person. But when he felt the intensity of an almost penetrating gaze on him, he unwittingly glanced up.

His eyes slightly widened in recognition. It was the same stranger he’d met before—the demon with yellow eyes and yellow horns. He calmly watched Fu Jing, his cheek resting on one hand. His loose, black curls draped over his back and shoulders, and his robes were a mix of black and white.

Fu Jing’s eyes once again flicked to Xiao Song, who was perched on the counter, then back at the man. The resemblance was uncanny.

But it also meant the alluring stranger hadn’t been an illusion after all!

Fu Jing looked at him with narrowed eyes. “Who are you?”

The stranger arched his eyebrows, as if surprised Fu Jing didn’t know him. “Me? I’m Han Jiu.”

Fu Jing nodded to himself for a moment, then raised his cup. “Nice to meet you.”

Han Jiu returned the gesture with a bright smile. They shared idle conversation over a few jugs of wine.

“You’re a human?” Han Jiu asked in disbelief. “I couldn’t tell!”

“Mhmm… and I can’t leave because of that bastard Xuan Qi.”

Han Jiu tilted his head. “Why? What did he do?” He leaned closer to Fu Jing, now whispering, “…Did he curse you?”

Feeling caught, Fu Jing paused for a moment. “…No.”

Fu Jing really liked this Han Jiu fella, because he had a much more pleasant personality than Xuan Qi and seemed less cruel.

Afraid of spoiling his pristine image in the eyes of his new friend, Fu Jing was reluctant to tell him the whole truth. To spare Han Jiu unnecessary details, Fu Jing simply said, “He locked the realm gate with a barrier.”

With a pensive expression, Han Jiu looked down at his own cup, his fingers tracing over the rim. After a moment, he turned back to Fu Jing with a broad smile.

“I can help you open the gate.”

Fu Jing’s eyes widened. “Really?!”

“Of course.”

“That would be amazing! I really could use some help.”

Han Jiu jumped to his feet. “Great, then lead me to the gate!”

Fu Jing blinked. “Now?” He was slightly overwhelmed by the spontaneity. “I… have nothing to repay you with.”

“Don’t worry about it! We’ll think of payment later,” Han Jiu offered with a warm smile.

Fu Jing hesitated. “I’d love to, but… but not tonight.”

The full moon was fast approaching, and the thought of leaving with a stranger made him uneasy. He wasn’t prepared at all—what if they actually succeeded? Wouldn’t he need Xuan Qi to renew the suppression of the curse?

His train of thought came to an abrupt halt when Han Jiu extended a polite hand, his smile relentless. “Oh yes, tonight,” he insisted.

Fu Jing wanted to decline again, but before he could say No, the word caught in his throat. His smile froze. It suddenly felt as if his entire body was weighed down by an oppressive aura. His back was immediately covered in a thin layer of cold sweat.

Han Jiu’s smile stretched even wider, curving his eyes. “You want to go home, right?”

Fu Jing turned his head toward Han Jiu, his face ashen, and nodded despite himself.

Han Jiu beamed at him. “Then let’s not waste another minute!” He held his hand even closer to Fu Jing, who took it despite himself.

Han Jiu helped Fu Jing off his stool and led the way, and Fu Jing followed despite himself.

Fu Jing was scared witless. He had no idea what was happening or why Han Jiu was so insistent.

Worse still, if he didn’t return on time to suppress the curse, he’d die!

But as much as he wanted to struggle, his body wouldn’t obey. So when the demon pulled him along, it looked like Fu Jing was going willingly.

Before they could leave the tavern, however, a broad, large figure with crossed arms blocked their path. Fu Jing didn’t need to raise his head to know who it was.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Xuan Qi’s deep voice rumbled. This time, his words weren’t directed at Fu Jing, but at Han Jiu.

Han Jiu’s smile didn’t fade at all. “Home.”

“You have no right to take him.”

Han Jiu sneered at him. “And who are you to tell me what rights I have? He’s coming with me willingly,” he turned to Fu Jing, his voice intoxicatingly sweet, “Aren’t you?”

Fu Jing nodded once more despite himself. His free hand clutched his robes, beads of cold sweat trickling down his face. His entire body was trembling.

“I’m his husband,” Xuan Qi replied coolly.

The room fell silent. Even Han Jiu seemed stunned for a moment, but then he snorted. “Pfft! You’re not married. I would know.”

“Not yet,” Xuan Qi corrected him.

Under different circumstances, Fu Jing would’ve loved to smother that demonic mouth of his; but right now, Xuan Qi could spout whatever nonsense he wanted if it would get Fu Jing out of this situation.

Han Jiu clicked his tongue. “Alright, alright,” he said and shoved Fu Jing into Xuan Qi’s chest. “Then tell your future husband to stay out of other people’s territories.”

With that, he stalked off.

The oppressive aura on Fu Jing’s body gradually disappeared and it finally felt like he could breathe again. He clutched Xuan Qi’s vest, frantically gasping for air.

Xuan Qi had one arm firmly wrapped around Fu Jing’s shoulders, pressing him close. His expression was dark and resolute as he said, “You’re coming with me.”

Still too shaken to argue, Fu Jing let himself be dragged away.

Back at the palace, Fu Jing was sitting on the edge of the bed, his face as white as a sheet. One arm was folded tightly across his chest as he gnawed on a finger of his other hand, deep in thought.

“This is why you need my scent,” Xuan Qi explained, pointing an angry finger at an invisible Han Jiu. “That time you ran off, you treaded into his territory and almost ran into his arms!”

Fu Jing stayed silent, the dark circles under his bulging eyes making him look like a ghost.

“So… he’s one of the four demon lords?” he finally rasped.

Xuan Qi sat down beside him. “Yes.”

“Can you do the same?”

“Yes.”

“But you never did,” Fu Jing mumbled.

Xuan Qi scoffed. “Now you see how kind I am?”

Fu Jing ignored Xuan Qi’s remark. His head was all over the place. “Why would he want me? He doesn’t even know me.”

“You’re a high-level cultivator,” Xuan Qi replied. “You’re a highly valued treasure in this realm.”

Fu Jing whipped his head toward Xuan Qi. He might not be able to use his spiritual powers here, but strong demons sure could suck it all out of him. His stomach twisted at the thought.

“Is that why you lured me down here?” he asked evenly.

Xuan Qi sucked in a sharp breath. Crossing his legs, he rested his interlocked hands on one knee. “To be honest, I just wanted to have some fun.”

“Why me?”

“You were there.”

“So what,” Fu Jing smiled in disbelief, his eyes glazing over, “you’re saying it was all random?”

“Humans…” Xuan Qi scoffed. “You lot always need to find meaning in everything. Sometimes, things just happen. When I swat a fly or mosquito, it’s because they simply chose the wrong time and place to annoy me.”

Fu Jing narrowed his eyes. “Are you comparing me to insects?”

Xuan Qi let out a dry laugh. “I love your innate ability to jump to the wildest conclusions.”

“If it could’ve been anyone, what if that person had been as broad and tall as you? Would you’ve been able to torture them as easily?!”

“Well, I never intended to keep you,” Xuan Qi returned. “How was I supposed to know you’d just randomly snack some foreign food? In the demon realm, no less. I thought you were smarter than that. And falling for such a blatantly obvious lure as well…” Shaking his head in feigned disappointment, he leaned back, propping himself up on one arm.

Fu Jing’s face soured, but he had to swallow his pride. There was no dignified way to retort. He now had both arms crossed and turned away from Xuan Qi, sulking.

“Fine,” Fu Jing said weakly. “I’ll stay. But only for tonight. The scent lasts for two–”

“It doesn’t.”

“Huh?”

“The scent doesn’t last for two weeks,” Xuan Qi said. “I told you, you just had dumb luck. You’ve only encountered low-level demons or creatures that simply don’t care about humans. Most of them are already intimidated by your own formidable aura.

“If you want to blend in and avoid drawing the attention of stronger demons, you’ll have to stay with me every day. Most of the demons in this area know you’re my human, so they won’t dare lay a finger on you. But there are powerful demons who won’t be deterred by you and will take advantage.”

Fu Jing felt his heart crack. He slowly turned back, staring at Xuan Qi in blank horror.

He couldn’t believe how much power a stupid little mistake in the shape of an incredibly sweet berry could have over his life. And to make matters worse, now that he had met another high-level demon, he had to admit he wouldn’t be able to defend himself after all.

He found himself caught in a dilemma—there were two paths he could take, and both ended in misery.

Though his eyes were fixed on Xuan Qi, he couldn’t make out the demon’s expression. His vision was blurred by tears. The dark fog clouding his mind seemed to dim his surroundings as well.

A sense of vulnerability overtook his sanity. His body almost moved on its own as he grasped Xuan Qi, straddling the demon from one moment to the next and pulling him into a desperate kiss.

Caught off guard, Xuan Qi froze. Fu Jing seemed to be just as startled by his own action, jerking back almost immediately. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Fu Jing abandoned all reason and kissed him again.

Xuan Qi didn’t protest—on the contrary, he fully leaned into it.

Whenever his tongue poked into Fu Jing’s mouth, the latter bit down, but Xuan Qi didn’t mind. His hands, which had been resting on Fu Jing’s thighs, slowly slid upward until they reached Fu Jing’s ass and brusquely groped it.

Fu Jing suddenly broke the kiss, gasping for air, his chest heaving. His glazed eyes locked with Xuan Qi’s, heavy with silent despair, as tears dripped down his cheeks like translucent pearls. Xuan Qi stared right back, his excitement winning out over his befuddlement. He pushed Fu Jing onto the bed, the motion both gentle and fierce.

Fu Jing didn’t object when the demon grabbed his waistband and pulled his pants down, nor did he resist when Xuan Qi settled between his legs.

It didn’t matter anymore. Nothing mattered anymore.

When Fu Jing awoke, he was alone. It took him a moment to realise where he was, but once he did, his heart turned cold.

As reality settled in, he leaned his head back and closed his eyes in defeat. Now even his only safe space in this godforsaken realm had been defiled.

His mind was numb. So numb, he couldn’t even bring himself to cry.

For the first time he understood that he was truly, genuinely trapped. He’d always known he was, but he’d never fully accepted it, always clinging to the tiniest shred of hope he could find.

Because no matter how desperate the situation, he’d always been able to overcome it.

Even as a child, when he’d been locked in a shed by his classmates, who had bullied him for his small stature, he’d managed to fight his way out.

But back then, he hadn’t been on his own. He’d always had his two companions to back him up and help him when he needed it.

Here in the demon realm, he had no one. He was completely and utterly alone.

And now, all hope was lost. The final shred had slipped through his fingers, the last glimmer snuffed out.

There was no escape.