He and It Chapter 195: Inquire Here (23)

Chapter 195: Inquire Here (23)

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: GaeaTiamat

 

Yan Huan sank into the extremely cold purgatory. He used the wind and frost there to wash away the fires on his body. Then, he ascended to the void realm beyond the heavens, and used the ethereal clouds to extinguish the unceasing, surging true fire within him.

Once everything was ready, he wiped off the white frost on his hair, eyebrows, and eyelashes, and hurriedly ran back to Liu Fuguang’s residence.

The Dragon God was uneasy, as he rubbed his palms together.

Earlier, when he rushed out in a hurry, his heart was filled with so many burning words of love, they scorched the tip of his tongue; he wanted to pour them all out to Liu Fuguang in one breath. However, after he’d cooled down outside for a while, his impulses seemed to have cooled as well, and many words were stuck in his throat, and now he was hesitating whether to confess or not.

“I…um, I’m back.”

He stared at Liu Fuguang, who looked calm, and in the end, he only repeated his previous words in a low voice.

However, Liu Fuguang only lowered his eyes, focused on reading a jade slip, and no longer looked at him.

Should he explain the matter to Yan Huan?

The matter of the tenth eye was no small thing, and potentially indicated a great change in the world. Yet, when he saw Yan Huan in that state, it seemed he was still unaware of the birth of his tenth eye.

…But, when he thought about communicating with him, Liu Fuguang felt disheartened. His lips sealed tightly together, not wanting to reopen the conversation.

Forget it.

He put down the jade slip and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Better to wait until he figured it out on his own. Surely, he couldn’t be so dull as to not notice the growth of a tenth eye on his body.

Regardless, Yan Huan’s second action was effective. Even an ordinary person walking on the street could now marvel at the no longer dark sun and feel the temperature rise. The long-present clouds above everyone’s heads became a new, pristine white, as if one could see the azure sky through the barrier of the celestial phenomenon.

Since the emergence of the Ghost Dragon, the once raging and violent undead tide eerily quieted down during the day. Faced with the current situation, they instinctively felt pain and discomfort, unwilling to be excessively exposed to the orange-red sunlight. The major sects seized the opportunity, and within a few months of hunting undead, ordinary people’s lives had stabilized considerably.

During those unusual days, some high-level demonic cultivators sensed an ominous sign. Concerned with their own interests and the changes in the cultivation environment, they were far more sensitive than righteous cultivators. They couldn’t understand why the Ghost Dragon was dedicated to restoring the sun, and equated it to a significant weakening of its own power. Why would it do such a self-damaging, altruistic thing?

Unfortunately, they wouldn’t live to see the day their confusion was resolved.

Yan Huan, dissatisfied with the slow healing of his injuries, summoned all the high-level demonic cultivators in the realm with a single thought. No matter that those people had once served him with utmost respect and devotion, he opened his giant, chaos-filled mouth that reached from the sky to the earth and devoured them all in one gulp without even a burp.

——Mosquitoes might be small, but they were still meat. Why not eat them? Moreover, eating those people was also a way to reduce evil power.

After consuming those numerous demonic cultivators, Yan Huan happily returned to Liu Fuguang’s palace. Ever since he received a glance from Liu Fuguang, he had been utterly smitten, his trembling heart completely hooked by that one look.

If he had known that making himself miserable would earn him special attention from his beloved, he would have done it long ago…

After steadying his mind, Yan Huan walked into the bedroom like a peacock displaying its feathers. The only difference from a peacock was that the capital he used for courtship was not his splendid tail feathers, but his scarred and battered body.

He parted the curtains and, familiar with the route, entered the inner chamber. Then, he lifted his robes and, both cautiously and joyfully, knelt by the bed where Liu Fuguang was reading.

“Fuguang, I…I think I need to go to the world sea once more. The mysterious sun will be restored to its original state soon.” His voice was extremely gentle, almost turning into a pool of water that swirled tenderly around Liu Fuguang’s ears. “By then, your body will be much better and able to withstand the spiritual energy of the Dao-heart…”

Liu Fuguang remained silent, but Yan Huan didn’t mind. He smiled and, in a soft tone, as if talking to himself, said, “Actually, the day you finally looked at me, you don’t know how happy I was…I would do anything just to not be ignored by you…”

In the end, he still was pleading miserably.

When he heard that, Liu Fuguang’s state of mind didn’t waver in the slightest. He remained as calm as a spectator.

If I don’t ignore you, what else can I do? he wondered. Should I beat you, hate you, or think of harming or expelling you? Like a clingy adhesive, beating and hurting you would only please you, and hating you is useless. As for expelling you, you are almost the lord of the world; would you really stay away if I kept emphasizing it?

If it weren’t for the sudden appearance of the tenth eye, which could potentially have far-reaching implications, Liu Fuguang wouldn’t even ask. Today, his heart, while not large, could accommodate everything except Yan Huan.

Their relationship remained unchanged. Yan Huan knew that altering Liu Fuguang’s attitude towards him, warming his heart, wasn’t something that could be done overnight. He was a desperate, impoverished suitor, who placed all his hopes on rekindling the mysterious sun, as a prayer for a chance to turn things around.

Therefore, after more than three months, when the sun was about to complete its third grand cycle and descend near Tang Valley, Yan Huan, despite his still-healing wounds, insisted on going to the world sea.

Just one last time, he thought, one last ignition, and the sun should gradually return to its state six thousand years ago. As long as my beloved can look at me. Just look at me again…

Every time he thought of that, Yan Huan trembled with excitement, and his boiling joy almost made him roll over and over, unable to remain calm.

After he made arrangements similar to the previous times, the Dragon God transformed into his original form in the dead of night.

His body was charred and withered, with countless dancing tendrils weaving through the starry sky. The broken dragon horns had snapped off at the roots, and the newly grown parts only cast faint shadows in the air. The nine eyes on his roaming dragon body still burned fiery red around the edges, like a ring of bizarre, crystal-clear blisters.

His appearance was undeniably miserable, but Yan Huan didn’t mind. After all, he was now the only true dragon of the zodiac in the vast world, and an unrivaled tyrant. Who else, apart from Liu Fuguang, could touch him or challenge his authority?

The Dragon God soared into the cloud-filled world sea.

He flew towards the sun, a mix of gold and orange. As he faced the increasing heat, Yan Huan seemed to see Liu Fuguang’s gaze cast upon him. This made him let out an earth-shaking roar, filled with anticipation and joy.

Before the echo faded, the dragon’s body collided with the blazing sun.

The orange-red sun, being struck hard, quaked violently. Its surface, seemingly semi-fluid, instantly burst into huge, golden-red sparks that splashed onto Yan Huan and scorched bright red spots on his body.

Yan Huan didn’t feel the pain, or rather, even the feeling of pain was twisted into a form of eager joy. The true dragon’s claws tore at the surface of the sun, like a venomous snake coiling around a red-hot goose egg, willing to melt its fangs and burn its scales to break open the shell and reveal what was inside.

Amidst the earth-shattering explosion, the light that burst forth from the sun was actually snow-white.

No words could describe that flawless white; it was even whiter than the light at the beginning of the world, when chaos first created the universe.

The sensation of pain and heat had far exceeded the threshold of what could be endured. Yan Huan could neither hear, see, nor feel anything. He just laughed—joyous, silly laughs, excited shrieks, secretive chuckles, and mad cackles. He seemed to be dancing at the end of destruction, with Liu Fuguang’s focused gaze reflecting only him, replaying countless times in his mind.

—Burn!

Yan Huan roared, and a million thunders rolled in the white light, as divine power erupted like the day all things were born.

—Burn!

His voice drowned out everything else, his will forced everything to comply. He was the emperor, the eleventh Dragon Lord, the deity holding the Dao, standing between the heavens and the earth, commanding the universe. The world had to yield to his will, and so did the sun. Yan Huan’s bones and flesh had almost liquefied into pure magma. He was boiling ash, a burning storm, and the sun cracked under his absolute power, surging out in golden-white solar fire.

“…I allow you to burn.”

In that moment of absolute silence, Yan Huan’s soft murmur sounded like a lover’s whisper.

At first, there was the faintest, smallest sound.

It was as light as a flower bud opening, quieter than wheat soaking up water and stretching its stalks, yet that tiny sound set off an almost endless wave of heat in the world sea, and blasted Yan Huan away!

Yan Huan’s nine eyes melted. He struggled to stabilize his shattered body, and strained to look at the sun which glowed at the center of the light waves.

Just a bit more, just a bit more…

His ecstatic heart was lost in itself, while the true dragon rolled in the boundless white waves, and desperately tried to pounce on the blazing sun again.

“Haven’t you played enough?”

Suddenly, an impatient and piercing voice echoed in Yan Huan’s mind.

“I’m done playing this ridiculous game with you, Yan Huan.”

His body shook, but before he could identify the voice’s owner, or even respond, the area where his dragon heart was deeply indented—a strange sensation accompanied by the voice, then his heart was gone!

As a Dragon God, Yan Huan couldn’t cultivate a dragon pearl. His source of power came from the ancient gods’ wickedness and the true immortals’ seals. He couldn’t cultivate a normal dragon pearl; instead, he had a “core” hidden in his dragon heart.

Thus, he had gouged out his heart for Liu Fuguang several times, genuinely hoping the other could control all of him. Now, gravely injured and having lost his dragon heart, he truly couldn’t sustain himself anymore.

In an instant, Yan Huan lost consciousness.

The dragon’s body could no longer maintain its flight. That massive creature, like a whale falling in the sea, wrapped in foamy flames, aimlessly plummeted downward. However, midway through the fall, the dragon’s body hovered strangely.

Like a puppet tied by invisible strings, it began to rise, then rise again. At first, it awkwardly swayed, uncomfortable in the sea of light, as if unable to bear the intense heat and light. After a moment of drifting, it seemed to adapt a bit. Its flying form became more skilled, and then it unhesitatingly abandoned the burning sun, turned around, and flew off in another direction.

Inside the palace of Eastern Swamp, Liu Fuguang, draped in an outer robe, was slowly walking around. As his health improved, the time he could spend out of bed grew longer.

Suddenly, he looked up, gazed at the dawn sky, and inexplicably frowned.

***

Yan Huan slowly opened his eyes.

As his body gradually adapted to the light in that space, he froze.

He was facing a magnificent and intricate treasure mirror, shimmering with clouds and vibrant colors.

This was the Floating Life Mirror, a precious artifact of the Immortal family, inlaid with seven treasures and adorned with colorful pearls and jade. It contained the prosperous and beautiful scenes of the three thousand worlds within it. He remembered clearly that during his wedding with Fuguang, he had deliberately placed it above their bed to unsettle his unfamiliar Dao companion.

The reason for his daze, however, was not the mere presence of the mirror, but the person reflected in it, peacefully sleeping beside him.

“…Fuguang?”

Yan Huan didn’t dare turn his head. He could only stare at the mirror above, as he asked hesitantly and tremblingly.

Hearing his voice, the figure in the mirror stirred slightly, then turned half of his rosy, sleeping face to look at Yan Huan through the mirror for a moment.

Liu Fuguang chuckled softly, with a lazy nasal tone, and asked with a smile, “Why are you looking at me like that? Have you turned into a fool?”

Yan Huan closed his eyes tightly. Even though he knew that it was false, an illusion, his heart still ached as if being twisted by a knife. His lips and teeth tore at each other as he trembled, unable to utter a word.

“What’s wrong with you?” The sound of rustling fabric reached his ears as Liu Fuguang got up, and worriedly touched him. “Is it your body that’s uncomfortable, or…?”

Before he could finish his sentence, Yan Huan opened his arms and hugged him tightly to his chest.

Yan Huan smelled the scent of his hair, clear as carefree clouds, felt his body temperature, his beating pulse and heart, his healthy and strong body, and even that pure, immaculate spiritual energy. Yan Huan said nothing, just held him tightly, as if there was no tomorrow and no future; holding him with all his might.

“…Yan Huan?”

The person in his arms made a small, confused sound. Yan Huan stared blankly ahead, his expression stiff. In his vision, the bed seemed to dissolve like mist, the room disintegrated like clouds, and the dragon palace collapsed layer by layer, like frost exposed to sunlight. In the end, all that was left was an empty, desolate darkness.

“Yan Huan.”

“Liu Fuguang” did not lift his head. In Yan Huan’s tightly enveloping arms, he called out to him gently and softly.

In such pure silence and darkness, he still emitted a faint white light, like a self-heating, self-illuminating sun.

“Yan Huan,” he said sadly. “What happened to you? Why did you destroy our nest? Isn’t it good for us to live there?”

Yan Huan clenched his teeth, still silent.

“Look, my wounds have healed. I have forgiven you and am willing to start over with you. Our red thread remains unbroken, and we can still be husband and wife for a lifetime, Dao companions for eternity…Don’t you want that?”

As “Liu Fuguang” spoke, a radiant red thread truly extended from his finger and connected to Yan Huan’s finger, once again making him feel a burning heat after six thousand years.

“…I do.” Yan Huan inhaled deeply, his fingers buried in “Liu Fuguang’s” hair, as he forced himself to speak in a hoarse voice, “I want it a million times, ten million times over. I…I want Fuguang to be well. I want us to reconcile, to renew our love, I want our red thread to remain unbroken, and I want us to be lovers written in the Book of Fate, but…”

He paused, and took a long time to steady his breathing before he continued, “…but I don’t want him to forgive me. I…for such a thing, truly wish for him to hate me, to hate me for a lifetime, to the point of wanting to drink my blood and chew my flesh. That way, I would be utterly satisfied and infinitely happy.”

The figure in his arms was silent. Yan Huan whispered, “You are not him. You are just a shadow very much like him…a shadow born from my inner self. I should have killed you the first moment, but you look so much like him, I didn’t want you to depart miserably.”

His embrace tightened until “Liu Fuguang” could no longer make any extra sounds, and turned into a mass of dark dust that fell from his arms, and scattered all over his chest.

As he faced the boundless darkness, Yan Huan raised his head.

“Come out. Your illusion is useless against me.”

The silence lasted but a moment before he heard a malicious laugh.

“Yan Huan, let me ask you, can a dragon live without a heart?”

The voice was both familiar and strange. Yan Huan’s gaze turned cold as he countered, “Why can’t a true dragon live without a heart?”

The other replied loudly, “Indeed, a true dragon can live without a heart, but…it won’t live comfortably!”

As soon as the words fell, Yan Huan felt a heart-piercing pain in his chest, while the nine melted eyes on his body twitched violently. He spat out a mouthful of blood mixed with magma, unable to maintain his disguised appearance. The once peerlessly beautiful divine body turned into a pool of hot, flowing liquid that dripped from decayed tendrils and shriveled eyeballs spread all over the ground.

The purposeless dragon god—or perhaps it was no longer appropriate to call him that, as he could barely maintain a human form and could no longer transform into a dragon—coughed up blood intermittently, and lowered his head to inspect himself.

A huge hole had indeed appeared in his chest. That void pierced through his torso, while tendrils grew around it, trying to heal, but they repeatedly broke and fell off powerlessly.

Yan Huan knelt on the ground, barely lifting his head, and stared at the figure emerging from the darkness.

In black robes, with a deep-set face, dragon horns on his forehead, and a large gold hoop hanging by his ear…

It was him, yet not him.

The standing “Yan Huan” smiled, looked down at his own miserable self with an identical appearance, and laughed, “Hello, Yan Huan.”

The real Yan Huan saw through the fake’s disguise, and recognized the true nature beneath the false appearance.

——He was clean, without wandering eyes, with only one spinning eye on his supposedly empty face.

“Hello, Yan Huan,” he repeated. “Finally seeing the light of day, finally able to materialize under your suppression, finally, finally…”

He joyfully took some deep breaths, but before he could finish,

Yan Huan slowly bared his dense fangs, his smile twisted and cold.

“Stop pretending. I know what you are,” he said. “You are my internal demon.”