Chapter 36
The Blood Moon hung above Kunlun like an open wound.
Crimson light flooded the mountains.
The shattered Demon Suppression Tower smoldered in the distance.
Everyone watched in horror as Zhao Yuanzhou slowly stepped forward.
Each step shook the ground.
The negative energy surrounding him had become so dense that even breathing felt difficult.
His eyes no longer held recognition.
Only destruction.
Only instinct.
Only pain.
Pei Sijing gritted her teeth.
She drew an arrow.
Pulled the bowstring.
Released.
The arrow streaked across the sky.
Straight toward Zhao Yuanzhou.
For a brief moment it seemed as though it might hit.
Then Zhao Yuanzhou casually raised a hand.
The arrow shattered.
As if it had struck a mountain.
The force alone sent Pei Sijing flying backward.
Meanwhile Li Lun stood nearby, smiling.
Watching.
Waiting.
Anticipating the end.
Then-
a silver flash appeared behind Zhao Yuanzhou.
The Yun Guang Sword.
Everyone froze.
Zhuo Yichen.
He was standing there.
Blood still staining his sleeves.
Trembling.
Not from fear.
From heartbreak.
Zhao Yuanzhou seemed to sense something.
Slowly-
he turned.
For a brief second, their eyes met.
One pair clouded by darkness.
The other overflowing with tears.
Zhuo Yichen’s hand tightened around the sword.
His voice shook.
“I don’t want….want this.”
But he forced himself to continue.
“Yet this world…”
A tear rolled down his cheek.
“…has always been cruel to us.”
The Yun Guang Sword trembled.
So did his hands.
So did his heart.
Then-
he thrust forward.
The blade pierced through Zhao Yuanzhou’s back.
Blood dripped onto the stone.
One drop.
Then another.
Then another.
Zhao Yuanzhou looked down at the sword protruding from his chest.
Surprisingly-
he smiled.
A small smile.
Gentle.
Almost relieved.
As though this outcome had never been a surprise.
Because it wasn’t.
The day before-
beneath the stars of Kunlun-
he had already prepared for this.
“Listen carefully.”
Zhao Yuanzhou sat beside him on the cliff.
For once his expression was serious.
“Li Lun’s one-word curse is dangerous.”
Zhuo Yichen frowned.
“So?”
“So if I lose control tomorrow…”
The demon’s gaze lowered.
“You may be the only person who can stop me.”
“No.”
“Yichen.”
“No.”
“Listen.”
His voice softened.
“If that moment comes…”
The words hurt to say.
“I need you to remain awake.”
“I need you to resist.”
“I need you to remember who you are.”
The moonlight reflected in his eyes.
“I’ll teach you a method.”
Zhuo Yichen’s throat tightened.
For some reason-
he suddenly understood.
The demon wasn’t teaching him how to survive.
He was teaching him how to say goodbye.
Back in the present-
the Yun Guang Sword glowed brilliantly.
The technique Zhao Yuanzhou had taught him activated instantly.
The dream curse shattered.
The one-word curse failed.
The negative energy wavered.
Then cracked.
Then broke.
Li Lun’s expression darkened.
“No.”
The darkness surrounding Zhao Yuanzhou began collapsing.
The crimson aura dispersed.
The Blood Moon trembled.
The nightmare finally ending.
Then-
Ying Zhao stepped forward.
The ancient mountain god looked toward Zhao Yuanzhou.
Then toward Zhuo Yichen.
And smiled.
A grandfather’s smile.
Warm.
Proud.
Sad.
“I suppose…”
His voice carried through the battlefield.
“…this old man must do something useful.”
Ying Lei’s eyes widened.
“Grandfather?”
Ying Zhao did not answer.
Instead-
he raised both hands.
Golden light erupted from his body.
Everyone froze.
But Ying Zhao only laughed.
A calm laugh.
The laugh of someone who had already made peace with his choice.
“The wilderness still needs a future.”
His soul began separating from his body.
Piece by piece.
Like starlight leaving the night sky.
Ying Lei’s voice cracked.
“Grandfather!”
Ying Zhao finally looked back.
His eyes were gentle.
“You’ve grown up.”
The words nearly shattered Ying Lei.
Then-
the ancient mountain god’s soul transformed into countless streams of golden light.
Flowing toward Zhao Yuanzhou.
Flowing into him.
The instant the soul entered his body-
the remaining negative energy vanished.
Completely.
Silently.
Gone.
The Blood Moon shattered.
The crimson sky faded.
The heavens returned to normal.
And Zhao Yuanzhou’s eyes slowly cleared.
The darkness disappeared.
The pain disappeared.
At last-
he returned.
The first thing he saw was Zhuo Yichen.
Still standing before him.
Still holding the Yun Guang Sword.
Still crying.
The demon blinked.
Confused.
Weak.
“…Yichen?”
His voice was normal.
Human.
Gentle.
The sound alone nearly made everyone collapse with relief.
Then Zhao Yuanzhou looked around.
Something felt wrong.
Terribly wrong.
His eyes searched the battlefield.
Searching for someone.
Searching desperately.
Until finally-
he found him.
Or rather-
what remained.
Ying Zhao’s body stood quietly beneath the Qian Kun Gate.
Still upright.
Still dignified.
Yet empty.
No soul.
No life.
Only a shell left behind.
The realization hit instantly.
Zhao Yuanzhou’s face lost all color.
“No…”
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That night, Kunlun was quieter than anyone had ever remembered.
No Ying Zhao teasing Ying Lei.
No old voice reminding everyone to eat properly or stop making reckless decisions.
Only silence.
A silence that seemed too large for the mountain itself.
Inside his chamber, Zhao Yuanzhou sat alone.
A small lamp flickered beside him.
Its light barely illuminated the room.
His eyes were fixed on the floor.
Unmoving.
Distant.
The memories wouldn’t stop.
They came one after another.
Relentlessly.
A young demon arriving at Kunlun.
Arrogant.
Rebellious.
Always causing trouble.
And behind him-Ying Zhao.
Patiently cleaning up every mess.
“Yuanzhou.”
“You cannot solve every problem with violence.”
“But violence solves many problems.”
“That is exactly the issue.”
Another memory.
“You must learn restraint.”
“Why?”
“So people won’t want to hit you.”
Another.
“You should respect your elders.”
“I do.”
The room blurred.
Zhao Yuanzhou lowered his head.
His shoulders shook.
The tears returned.
Again.
He hated crying.
Yet tonight they wouldn’t stop.
The door quietly opened.
Soft footsteps approached.
Then stopped.
For a moment neither spoke.
Then Zhuo Yichen sat beside him.
Close enough for their shoulders to touch.
Still neither spoke.
Because some grief could not be fixed with words.
After a long silence, Zhao Yuanzhou finally whispered,
“He was there.”
Yichen looked at him.
The demon’s eyes were red.
“He was always there.”
“When everyone feared me.”
“When everyone called me a monster.”
“When I made mistakes.”
“When I lost control.”
The tears slipped down again.
“He never left.”
Yichen’s heart hurt.
“He watched me grow up.”
The demon laughed weakly.
“He even taught me how to read.”
Another tear fell.
“I wasn’t there.”
His voice became smaller.
“I wasn’t there when he needed me.”
Yichen immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“I wasn’t.”
“Zhao.”
“I wasn’t.”
The guilt was unbearable.
Heavy.
Crushing.
Like stones tied around his heart.
Then suddenly-
Yichen wrapped his arms around him.
Pulling him close.
Firmly.
Without hesitation.
The demon froze.
For a moment he simply stared.
Then the last of his strength disappeared.
His forehead rested against Yichen’s shoulder.
And finally-
he cried.
He cried like someone whose heart had broken.
Years of pain.
Centuries of loss.
Everything pouring out at once.
Yichen held him tighter.
One hand resting in his hair.
The other rubbing slow circles across his back.
“It’s okay.”
The words were gentle.
“So cry.”
The demon buried his face against him.
“I miss him.”
“I know.”
“I miss him so much.”
“I know.”
“He was supposed to stay.”
Yichen’s own eyes became red.
“I know.”
The room grew quiet again.
Only the sound of Zhao Yuanzhou’s breathing remained.
Eventually the tears slowed.
Then stopped.
Exhaustion finally replacing grief.
Yichen glanced down.
The demon was still leaning against him.
Eyes half-closed.
Refusing to sleep.
“You need rest.”
“No.”
“Sleep.”
“No.”
Yichen sighed.
The most stubborn demon in existence.
A few moments later Zhao Yuanzhou slowly shifted.
Until his head rested in Yichen’s lap.
Comfortably.
Without shame.
Without asking permission.
As though he belonged there.
Which was honestly becoming a habit.
Yichen stared.
“You’re shameless.”
His fingers moved through the demon’s hair.
Slowly.
Gently.
The way someone calms a frightened child.
Or comforts a wounded soul.
Outside, the mountain wind whispered through the trees.
Inside, peace slowly settled.
The demon’s breathing became steadier.
Then slower.
Then softer.
Until finally-
he fell asleep.
His face relaxed.
The sadness remained.
But for a little while-
he could rest.
Yichen looked down at him.
At the ancient demon who carried too much pain.
Then quietly brushed a loose strand of hair from his face.
“Sleep.”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I’ll watch for both of us.”
Several minutes passed.
Only when he was certain Zhao Yuanzhou was truly asleep did Yichen carefully move.
Slowly.
Gently.
Making sure not to wake him.
He covered him with a blanket.
Then stood.
And left the room.
The night air greeted him outside.
Cold.
Lonely.
Just like the mountain itself.
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Not far away-
someone sat alone beneath an ancient tree.
Ying Lei.
The usually energetic mountain god was silent.
His eyes fixed on the stars.
As though searching for someone.
As though hoping an old voice would suddenly answer.
Yichen approached quietly.
Then sat beside him.
Neither spoke for a while.
Finally Ying Lei laughed weakly.
“You know…”
“I thought he would live forever.”
Yichen stared at the stars.
“So did I.”
The laughter disappeared.
And for the first time since Ying Zhao’s death-
Ying Lei cried.
Not loudly.
Just quietly.
Like a child missing home.
Yichen sat beside him the entire night.
Offering no grand speeches.
No clever advice.
Only company.
Because sometimes grief didn’t need answers.
Sometimes it only needed someone willing to stay.
And beneath the stars of Kunlun-
two people mourned the same loss.