Recap
Yan Zhao conjured a fruit knife, peeled the smooth skin, and said casually: “Don’t you eat apples with the skin on?”
He remembered that in the previous world, Rongrong was very delicate; he never ate apples with the skin on and insisted on peeling them himself.
After several worlds, seeing apples and peeling them for Rong Yu had become his habit.
Rong Yu stared at him suspiciously: “When did I say I don’t eat the skin? An apple has to be so particular.”
The knife in Yan Zhao’s hand for peeling apples paused, and the veins on the back of his clenched hand were slightly visible.
He lowered his eyes and said softly, “Maybe I remembered it wrong.”
It turns out that Rongrong’s habit of not eating fruit peels is because he always peels Rongrong’s apples for him.
Yan Zhao peeled the apple and handed it to Rong Yu: “Here.”
Rong Yu was startled. He looked at the snow-white flesh of the apple and asked uncertainly, “For me?”
“Who else?” Yan Zhao picked another apple from the tree and took a bite with the skin on. “I’m not that particular, but our Little Lotus needs to be taken care of.”
“Who’s ‘ours’?” Rong Yu retorted subconsciously. He held the apple, hesitantly put it in his mouth, and took a bite.
He thought… Yan Zhao thought he didn’t eat apples with the skin on, so he took the apple away and peeled it himself. Putting himself in Yan Zhao’s shoes, Rong Yu would never return the things he took away. He felt that Yan Zhao was the same way, and they were quite familiar, so he didn’t intend to care about it.
It turned out to be a gesture of care.
Unexpectedly, there was someone who would peel an apple for him.
Such an ordinary act was another rare gift to the devil. A bouquet of wild flowers, an apple—all given to him by the sun.
Rong Yu ate the most ordinary apple bite by bite, as if he was eating the most precious spiritual fruit. He ate extremely slowly, and Yan Zhao had already finished eating his apple before Rong Yu had eaten half of his.
Yan Zhao watched with soft eyes. He knew that Rong Yu was very powerful and lonely. The devil could easily plunder everything, but if a prerequisite of sincere giving was added, Rong Yu would get nothing.
Therefore, he would cherish the bouquet of flowers he picked and the fruit he peeled.
Treat sincerity with sincerity. Rong Yu had no heart, and everything dared not treat each other sincerely, so let him be the one to exchange sincerity.
Rong Yu was eating slowly at first, but when he looked up and saw Yan Zhao staring at him intently, he suddenly felt that the apple was a bit hot, as if his act of cherishing an apple was seen by others, which was particularly embarrassing. He quickened his pace, quickly finished the remaining half of the apple, and threw the core away casually. He said seriously: “The taste is average, and it’s not much sweeter after peeling. You don’t have to… flatter this king like this.”
Yan Zhao asked: “Then don’t peel it in the future?”
“There’s a future?” Rong Yu was surprised for a moment, and then said, “Then…it’s still necessary. Besides being a bed, you can also be a knife.”
Yan Zhao smiled: “Okay.”
Seeing him smiling, Rong Yu couldn’t help but curl his lips. He quickly smoothed the arc, trying to cover it up: “Let’s go. There’s nothing to see here.”
Yan Zhao naturally followed him.
When the god and demon walked a few miles and were about to go down the mountain from the other side, Rong Yu suddenly stopped: “This king seems to have left something behind. You wait here; I’ll go back and look for it.”
Yan Zhao stopped and looked at him: “Need help?”
Rong Yu abruptly stopped and declared, “I think I left something behind. Wait here; I’ll go back for it.”
Before Yan Zhao could respond, Rong Yu vanished in a streak of red light, retracing their path. This time, he was careful to contain his flames, ensuring the orchard remained unharmed.
Yan Zhao shook his head slightly but didn’t follow. His divine sense allowed him to perceive everything happening on the mountain. He knew Rong Yu had left nothing behind.
Closing his eyes, Yan Zhao focused his divine sense on Rong Yu’s location. He saw Rong Yu return to their previous spot, searching under several fruit trees. Suddenly, Rong Yu darted under a specific tree, squatted down, and retrieved the discarded apple core.
Yan Zhao was taken aback. Was this what Rong Yu had “left behind”? It was the core of the apple he had peeled for Rong Yu, now devoid of any value.
However, Rong Yu carefully picked up the core and cast a protective shield around it. He then conjured a firebird and commanded, “Take this back to the palace and instruct the servants to plant the seeds. Replace all the peach trees in my courtyard with apple trees.”
The firebird obeyed, taking the core in its beak and flying away.
Rong Yu remained squatting on the ground, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he rubbed his face and muttered, “I must be out of my mind…”
“No, I am, after all, demon fire.” Rong Yu’s voice was barely audible. “The heartless sun must never know about this; it’s too embarrassing.”
Yan Zhao, observing this scene, couldn’t help but chuckle. He had known all along. Little Lotus’s reaction was endearing.
His laughter subsided, and Yan Zhao’s expression turned somber. The fact that Rong Yu treasured a mere fruit core so deeply spoke volumes about his loneliness. It was this profound isolation that had driven Rong Yu to self-immolation after countless years.
The thought saddened Yan Zhao, even though he knew this particular event hadn’t occurred in this timeline. The 6666 world’s HE standards prevented such an ending, and his presence in the past had altered the course of events. Rong Yu’s extinguished soul lamp couldn’t be attributed to loneliness and self-immolation; there must be another explanation.
Before Yan Zhao could delve deeper into this mystery, Rong Yu returned, seemingly unaffected.
“Did you find it?” Yan Zhao inquired, playing along. He would respect Rong Yu’s desire for privacy.
“Yes,” Rong Yu replied calmly. “Let’s go down the mountain.”
_
Red Lotus slept on the rising sun for a hundred years, and Yan Zhao took Rong Yu to travel the world for another thousand years.
During this millennium, they journeyed to nearly every corner of the world, enjoying flowers and butterflies, boating on lotus ponds, collecting leaves in maple forests, and seeking plum blossoms in the snow. Along the way, when Rong Yu grew weary of travel, they would settle in a paradise for a decade, cultivating a garden and raising a cat.
These were mortal flowers and a mortal cat. Life that Rong Yu’s presence once extinguished now thrived under his care. Yan Zhao tended to most of the daily chores, while Rong Yu would occasionally water the flowers or stroke the cat’s fur when the mood struck him. This was a remarkable change.
Witnessing the flowers sprout, bloom, and wither, and the cat grow from a kitten into a plump feline, left a lasting impression. The cat, in particular, adored Rong Yu, often curling up in his arms, nuzzling against his clothes, and licking his fingers. Yan Zhao, at times, felt a pang of jealousy and would playfully remove the cat from Rong Yu’s embrace, only to be met with a gentle protest: “Give him back.”
All things are governed by the cycle of life and death. Eventually, the flowers withered, and the cat succumbed to old age. As the elderly cat nestled into Rong Yu’s arms, just as it had done in its youth, but never opened its eyes again, Rong Yu held it close, gently stroking its fur repeatedly.
Yan Zhao, wanting to ease Rong Yu’s sorrow, suggested, “Rongrong, let’s bury him.”
Rong Yu looked up, then back down at the cat, and said softly, “Sun, I want to revive him.”
For the first time, the devil experienced the pain of loss. He desired for this cat, and only this cat, to remain with him forever.
It became clear that some things, unlike emotions, were truly irreplaceable.
“He will be reincarnated as a human,” Yan Zhao said, gently covering Rong Yu’s hand that rested on the cat. “He will have a happy afterlife.”
Rong Yu paused for a moment, then said quietly, “Forget it.”
“It doesn’t seem worth it to disrupt the underworld for a cat.”
Though Rong Yu’s words sounded heartless, Yan Zhao understood the underlying reason for his decision: reincarnation as a human offered a happier existence than remaining a cat.
The happiness of a loved one outweighs one’s own selfish desires.
In the devil’s eyes, everything was no longer fleeting and insignificant. Instead, they had become vibrant, cherished beings.
He had taught Rong Yu to love the world.
To love the plants, flowers, mountains, rivers, and all living creatures.
Rong Yu was finally no longer so alone.
However, throughout this millennium, Rong Yu’s soul lamp remained unlit.
They were inseparable, yet their feelings remained unspoken.
Yan Zhao understood the importance of patience. Rongrong had only just discovered the world’s beauty and developed tenderness and compassion. Love would take time to blossom.
He could teach him slowly.
Yan Zhao occasionally pondered the possibility of the soul lamp never igniting. Qi Ye had once remarked that if not for Li Jin’s interference, he could have remained in the 999 world with the Snow God indefinitely, never returning to the Myriad Gods Realm. Yan Zhao found no fault in this sentiment. He, too, yearned to continue his life with Rongrong in the 6666 world.
Should all else fail, he resolved to stay by Rongrong’s side until the world’s final moments, then repeatedly return to the past for a fresh start, ensuring their eternal companionship. He was prepared to remain in the past forever, as long as Rong Yu was with him. Since Rong Yu had no future, he would willingly sacrifice his own. The lives of gods and demons were boundless; even without a future, they could find eternity in the past.
Moreover, the Myriad Gods Realm was under the capable watch of Qi Ye and the Snow God. Yan Zhao had made thorough arrangements before embarking on this journey. He had come with the unwavering belief that he must save Rong Yu, but also with the resolute acceptance that if salvation proved impossible, he would never return. His rightful place was wherever Rong Yu was.
___
After their millennia-long journey across the world, Rong Yu expressed his weariness and a desire to return to the Demon King’s Palace for respite. Yan Zhao readily agreed. Wherever Rong Yu wished to go, he would follow.
A thousand years had passed, yet the Demon King’s Palace remained largely unchanged. The only difference was the replacement of the peach trees in the courtyard with apple trees. Without the Demon King’s explicit command, no one dared to alter a single thing within the palace walls.
Logically, such a palace, meticulously designed according to Rong Yu’s preferences, should have been a haven for him. However, upon his return, Rong Yu found himself strangely dissatisfied. The palace felt too rigid, too lifeless.
Over the past thousand years, he had witnessed the natural ebb and flow of life, the shifting of celestial bodies. During their secluded time in the Peach Blossom Spring, Yan Zhao had taken the liberty of planting flowers in the yard and bringing home a cat without seeking his permission. Initially, Rong Yu had been displeased, but he gradually came to appreciate these unexpected additions. Life, he realized, was full of surprises.
In contrast, the Demon King’s Palace was a monument to his own grandeur, a reflection of his desires, devoid of genuine emotion or spirit. The servants, fearing his wrath, never dared to make even the slightest alteration. A palace lantern accidentally scorched by his flames remained untouched, as they assumed he preferred it that way.
Despite the bustling activity of the servants, the palace felt empty, inhabited by a solitary soul. Now, however, there was an additional presence – the sun.
In the palace, Rong Yu sat before a mirror, his hair cascading over his shoulders. Yan Zhao stood behind him, gently combing his hair.
Rong Yu had once captured a beautiful candle dragon, intending to use it as a living hair ornament. However, under Yan Zhao’s influence, he developed a sense of compassion and released the creature, replacing it with a red headband gifted by Yan Zhao.
Accustomed to being served, Rong Yu had grown used to Yan Zhao’s attentive care during their travels. Even upon returning to the palace, he never summoned his servants for personal grooming.
Yan Zhao carefully combed Rong Yu’s hair, his movements gentle and deliberate.
Gazing into the mirror, Rong Yu suddenly spoke, “I’ve investigated your background. There’s no Sun God in the heavens. Who are you?”
Yan Zhao’s hand paused momentarily.
“Don’t worry, I’m not accusing you,” Rong Yu chuckled. “The fact that you have no connection to those old celestial codgers is quite pleasing. But you seem to know me intimately, while I know nothing about you. Isn’t it time to enlighten me?”
Previously, he hadn’t cared about the origins of a mere “bed.” Now, however, curiosity had taken hold.
Resuming his task, Yan Zhao replied, “I’m not a god of this world.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
“I am the Sun God from another world. There is no sun in this realm; I come from elsewhere. You have a saying here that a rainbow always follows the rain. We have a similar proverb: sunshine always follows wind and rain. In my world, the sun rises and sets daily, emerging from the sea. It’s a natural phenomenon. You can think of me as akin to a rainbow or clouds.”
The truth was far more complex, but explaining the concept of a sun in a sunless world required relatable analogies.
“Another world? So, there are many worlds beyond this one?” Rong Yu’s surprise was evident.
Ignoring the law’s warning, Yan Zhao nodded in affirmation.
The existence of the Great Thousand World was a well-guarded secret among the gods. However, at this point, Yan Zhao’s defiance was absolute. He cared little for the consequences upon his return; his intention was to remain here.
“Then how did you come here?” Rong Yu inquired.
Because you died in the future, and I came back to save you.
I, whom you see for the first time, have loved you for countless lifetimes.
The law of God silenced Yan Zhao, preventing him from uttering these words. Even his revelation of originating from another world was forbidden. However, the laws of this world couldn’t bind the Lord God. The higher law of God, sensing Yan Zhao’s transgression, imposed a series of harsh restrictions.
Only the law of God, which even gods must obey, could restrain Yan Zhao.
And the law of God was undeniably displeased.
Enduring excruciating pain, as if his lungs were collapsing and his throat constricting, Yan Zhao swallowed the blood welling up in his mouth and said softly, “I came for you.”
Rong Yu was slightly startled. Although Yan Zhao’s expression was calm and his tone was even, Rong Yu felt a sense of unease and didn’t want to pry.
These five words were enough.
Instead of asking how Yan Zhao came or what he meant by “for him,” Rong Yu simply asked, “Then will you leave?”
Yan Zhao lowered his eyes. “Of course not.”
However, he was uncertain if the law of God would relent.
A wave of panic washed over Rong Yu. He impulsively grabbed a delicate hairpin and severed a strand of his blue hair.
“Isn’t there a mortal saying that tying hair together creates an unbreakable bond?” Rong Yu, once dismissive of such superstitions, now found comfort in the idea. “I won’t see you as a mere bed anymore. I’ll consider you a friend, Sun. You won’t leave then, right?”
Yan Zhao chuckled helplessly. “Little Lotus, friends don’t tie their hair together. Mortals call it ‘love silk,’ a bond reserved for husbands and wives.”
“Then let’s be husband and wife.” Rong Yu turned and grasped Yan Zhao’s sleeve, looking up. “I don’t care if it’s as friends or husbands; we’ll be bound, and you can’t leave.”
___
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