CHAPTER 65

Missing the Devil

LUO FAN

When we arrived in Zhaoyun City, the capital of Silang Empire, I was unprepared for the sheer number of light cultivators casually walking the streets. Unlike Wun or Xianru, where light cultivators were shunned or suppressed, Silang offered them sanctuary. It was as though the city thrived on their energy—temples adorned every street, their golden spires glinting in the sunlight, and vendors openly sold charms infused with light energy.

Ruan Yanjun wasted no time securing accommodations at a luxurious inn. The choice of lodging reflected his status, with a private courtyard, elegantly furnished rooms, and a serene pond filled with golden koi. The extravagance surpassed anything I had ever experienced, and while I admired the beauty, I couldn't help but feel out of place.

To my surprise, he told me I was free to explore the city—and even encouraged me to visit the temples if I wished.

"Don't wander too far," he said as he handed me a pouch of coins. "But take the chance to enjoy yourself."

The words sounded foreign coming from him. Ruan Yanjun, who watched me like a hawk and rarely let me out of his sight, was granting me freedom?

I didn't hesitate. The moment he turned away, I was out the door, the sound of bustling city life drawing me forward.

Despite a lingering weariness in my chest, I spent the entire day roaming the streets. I visited temples where light cultivators shared their wisdom with eager smiles and open hearts. Their kindness was exhilirating, but I kept my guard up. My dark core, though faint and almost unnoticeable, could betray me if I wasn’t careful. The mere thought of them discovering my secret made my skin crawl. In their eyes, dual core bearers like me were unnatural—a breach of heaven's order.

It was late by the time I returned to the inn, my legs aching but my heart light. The warmth of the city had made me forget, if only for a moment, the strange journey that had brought me here.

When I reached courtyard, however, I was met with an odd stillness. Ruan Yanjun was gone.

"Where is Lord Ruan?" I asked one of the staff.

"He left shortly after you did this morning," the attendant said, bowing politely. "He instructed us to take care of your needs until he returns. He mentioned he would be gone for a week."

"A week?" I echoed, surprised.

The attendant nodded and retreated, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

Ruan Yanjun never left without telling me. His absence felt unnatural, unsettling. Over the past two weeks, during our journey from Baixu City, he had been uncharacteristically quiet. Restless, almost. There were moments when I caught him clutching his chest or gritting his teeth, his expression clouded with pain.

Each time I asked what was wrong, he would dismiss me with the same curt reply, claiming it was nothing.

But it wasn’t nothing. I’d seen how his steps faltered, how his eyes dimmed in moments of quiet. Even though he had seemed to recover once we reached Zhaoyun City, his sudden departure now painted a clearer picture.

He was hiding something from me.

I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the moonlit courtyard beyond the window. Was he seeking a remedy for whatever plagued him? And if so, why couldn’t he tell me?

A familiar frustration bubbled up inside me. Ruan Yanjun carried the weight of his secrets like a shield, pushing away anyone who tried to get too close. And yet, despite knowing that, I still found myself worrying.

He was my captor, my protector, and—though I hated to admit it—my source of stability in a world that often felt like it wanted to devour me whole.

I clenched my fists, trying to banish the unease that gnawed at me. He was strong—stronger than anyone I’d ever met. Whatever he was facing, he would overcome it.

Wouldn't he?

The thought hung heavy in the air as I lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. The city’s distant hum was a comfort, but it wasn’t enough to quiet the storm in my chest.

*****

If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

For the entire week, I was free to roam Zhaoyun City. The bustling streets, the fragrant aroma of street food, and the warm smiles of light cultivators offered a reprieve from the constant shadow of Ruan Yanjun. I considered taking the chance to escape—severing the strange tie that bound me to him—but I hesitated.

This freedom felt like a test.

Ruan Yanjun wasn’t careless. He didn’t strike me as someone who would leave without calculating every possible outcome. If I ran, it would only confirm his suspicions that I couldn’t be trusted. And with his connections, I doubted there was anywhere I could hide where he wouldn’t find me.

The thought of upsetting him again lingered in my mind. If I made a mistake, I knew he would restrict my movements once more, keeping me shackled at his side. I didn’t want that—not the confinement, nor the quiet disappointment in his eyes that always felt like a dagger to my pride.

So, I stayed.

As the days went by, the toll of my relentless exploration began to show. It started with a subtle unease in my chest, a pressure I knew all too well, growing heavier with each hour. By evening, I was coughing up blood once more, the vivid crimson staining my hands—a grim reminder of my fragility.

By morning, I could barely stand. My legs trembled beneath me, and every breath felt like I was inhaling shards of glass.

I hadn’t realized how dependent I’d become on Ruan Yanjun’s medicines until now. His experimental concoctions—however unorthodox—had kept me stable for months. Now, without him, my condition was spiraling out of control.

How ironic. I, a renowned alchemist once hailed as the Divine Mage, couldn’t even manage my own ailment. And yet, a demon—someone who had no formal training in alchemy—had been the one keeping me alive.

After Jinjing’s death, I had lost the will to continue searching for a cure. My grief had hollowed me out, leaving me a shell too tired to fight. It was easier to rely on Ruan Yanjun, to let him take charge while I passively accepted whatever fate awaited me.

But now, the poison ravaging my body left me no choice. The balance of my dual cores had become dangerously unstable, the light and dark energies warring within me like restless storms. I spent the next two days meditating, desperately trying to calm the cores and suppress the poison before it consumed me entirely.

I must have overestimated my strength. The next time I opened my eyes, I wasn’t on the floor where I had been meditating. I was in bed, my limbs heavy and my mind sluggish.

At first, I couldn’t tell if it was day or night. The light in the room was soft and golden, either the dim glow of a lantern or the first rays of dawn. My vision was too blurry to make sense of it. Even the edges of reality felt frayed, as though I were caught between a dream and waking.

Then I heard his voice.

"Take this."

Ruan Yanjun’s deep, commanding tone cut through the haze, anchoring me to the present.

I blinked, trying to focus, and saw his familiar silhouette leaning over me. He was sitting beside the bed, his presence as solid and steady as a mountain.

“Lord Ruan,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. My heart skipped unexpectedly, the sight of him stirring a wave of relief so profound it almost made me tear up. I hadn’t realized how much I’d wanted him to return until now.

His hand brushed against my cheek, his fingers warm against my cold skin. “Take this,” he said again, pressing a pill against my lips.

I obeyed, though it took all the strength I had to swallow. The pill slid down my throat, its bitter taste spreading quickly. I gasped for air as it settled, already feeling a strange warmth radiating through my body.

“You’re back,” I managed to say, though the words felt heavy on my tongue.

“Don’t talk,” he replied softly, his tone uncharacteristically gentle. “You need to rest.”

But I didn’t want to rest. A strange fear took hold of me, a fear that if I closed my eyes, he would vanish again. I wanted to ask him where he had been, why he had left without telling me, but I couldn’t summon the energy to speak.

Instead, I reached out with trembling fingers, grasping his hand. It was a simple gesture, but it carried everything I couldn’t put into words.

Stay.

He didn’t pull away. His fingers curled around mine, firm and reassuring.

The warmth of his touch lulled me into a fragile sense of safety. My eyes grew heavy, and despite my resistance, sleep began to claim me.

RUAN YANJUN

I smirked as I watched him sleep, his slender fingers still clutching my hand as though it were his last tether to life. Even in unconsciousness, Luo Fan remained as stubborn as ever, refusing to let go.

He puzzled me. For so long, he had resisted me, loathed me, and rejected every attempt I’d made to reach him. And now, this sudden shift—the fragile desperation in his grip, the faint trust he placed in my presence—was almost enough to make me laugh.

Had he finally realized that he needed me?

The thought amused me. A little late for that revelation, wasn’t it?

I traced my thumb over the back of his hand, feeling the faint tremor in his pulse. His frailty unsettled me more than I cared to admit. Beneath his calm demeanor, Luo Fan was falling apart, his dual cores threatening to tear him from the inside out.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

For months, I had tried to make things easier for him. Gently guiding him, offering my protection, giving him every chance to embrace his dark core without fear. But he refused to cooperate, clinging to his light core as though it were the only part of him that mattered.

He was a fool.

And yet…

I sighed, my smirk fading as I gazed at his pale face. Even now, he was beautiful. Fragile but unyielding. A contradiction that fascinated me and infuriated me in equal measure.

My time with him was running out.

I had tried to be patient. I had tried to coax him into awakening the slumbering power of his dark core at his own pace. But patience was a luxury I no longer had. The clock was ticking, and the storm brewing within me could not be ignored much longer.

If I didn’t find a way to stop the inevitable, I would destroy everything—him, this city, and the fragile balance of the world itself.

The thought of leaving him unprepared, of him succumbing to his condition without realizing his full potential, was unacceptable.

I’d have to push him further. Harder.

I hated to do it. If circumstances were different, I would have taken my time, worn down his resistance with persistence and charm until he gave in of his own accord. But fate wasn’t so kind.

This time, I’d have to show him what real adversity felt like.

If Luo Fan was faced with the one thing he valued most—his dignity—being stripped away, and he realized that I wouldn’t be there to save him, perhaps then he’d have no choice but to tap into the power he kept buried deep within.

The power of his dark core.

It was a cruel plan, but it was the only way. Luo Fan was too proud, too stubborn, too blind to see the truth unless it was shoved directly in front of him. And if I had to be the villain in his story to ensure his survival, so be it.