Tears of the Demon Lord

Sensing her approach, Wen Xiaoran suddenly turned his head.

Caught off guard, Yan Yi met his gaze and froze on the spot, forgetting what she had intended to do.

The great villain’s eyes were moist, the corners reddened, his pupils shimmering with tears—he had actually cried?!

A fierce man shedding tears!

Yan Yi was stunned.

Her mind boomed loudly, and for a moment she did not know what to do.

In just a brief instant, she changed her mind twice, her thoughts tangled in chaos.

Gradually, one idea became clear in her heart, while various excuses rushed forward to compete—

The great villain was gravely injured.

If he could not withstand the ordeal and died during the process of dual cultivation, it would be a loss outweighing any gain.

Yan Yi released the red crystal pendant at her chest, walked quietly to the bedside, extinguished the calming incense, and said gently, “Your Excellency, I am willing to follow Brother Wen to the Frost Continent.”

Wen Xiaoran was quite surprised, as if he could not believe his ears.

There was a faint nasal tone in his voice as he spoke.

“What did you say?”

Yan Yi clasped her hands tightly, her knuckles turning white as if she had made an immense decision, and said word by word, “I recognize the Frost Lotus.

If Brother Wen takes me along, the chances of finding it will be greater.

Besides—”

Seeing her hesitate, Wen Xiaoran was eager to know her reason, yet his face remained calm as he waited for her to continue.

“I hope Your Excellency can live.”

Something in his heart seemed to melt.

Wen Xiaoran did not respond.

He stared at Yan Yi without blinking, as if searching her face for an answer.

Yan Yi suddenly let out a soft laugh, leaned closer, and whispered warmly, “Your Excellency, are you—moved to tears?”

Wen Xiaoran shifted his gaze away and said in a low voice, “Draw the appearance and characteristics of the Frost Lotus.

I will order my men to gather it from the Frost Continent.”

Yan Yi looked troubled and said honestly, “Your Excellency, my drawing skills are poor.

If they mistake it because of that, would it not delay important matters?”

Wen Xiaoran’s expression grew serious.

He still did not approve of her taking the risk.

“With a mere mortal body, how could you withstand the invasion of the Frost Continent’s cold?”

Hearing this, Yan Yi could not suppress her irritation and muttered softly, “Your Excellency, do you look down on us mere mortals?”

She had held these words in for a long time.

The great villain often spoke of “mere mortals,” and a trace of disdain frequently appeared on his face.

Not very harmful, but extremely insulting.

Wen Xiaoran was startled upon hearing this and remained silent for quite some time.

It was not that he looked down on them.

Mortals were physically weaker—this was an undeniable fact.

Cultivators often regarded ordinary mortals as vulnerable and offered them protection when appropriate.

“No.”

Wen Xiaoran denied it flatly.

Yan Yi was indignant.

The mighty Demon Lord, the greatest villain in the entire book, yet he dared not face his own heart.

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“Then why won’t you allow me to go to the Frost Continent?”

An inexplicable sense of pleasure rose in Wen Xiaoran’s heart.

Patiently, he explained, “For an ordinary mortal to step onto the Frost Continent is no different from a moth flying into a flame.”

This was true.

The original book indeed mentioned that the Frost Continent was not a place ordinary people could enter.

Many cultivators who went there in pursuit of rare species lost their lives, their bodies never found.

Yan Yi was troubled.

After pondering for a long time, she hesitantly asked, “Your Excellency, do you have a spiritual artifact that can block out the cold and prevent it from harming its holder?”

Wen Xiaoran’s expression stiffened for a moment.

His probing gaze fell upon her face.

“The Feathered Cloak?”

“Yes!”

Yan Yi suddenly grew excited, her eyes lighting up with joy as she looked at him.

“I knew it.

In such a vast Demon Lord’s residence, how could there not be at least one useful treasure?”

Wen Xiaoran studied her thoughtfully.

“How did you know this item exists?”

“I—”

Yan Yi guiltily touched the tip of her nose and gave an awkward smile.

“I guessed.”

Wen Xiaoran clearly did not believe her.

His scrutinizing gaze pressed closer.

“Tell the truth.”

Seeing she could not brush it off, Yan Yi lowered her head and said half-truthfully, “I once read in an ancient text that the Demon Realm possesses a spiritual artifact capable of resisting external harm and protecting its master.”

“Mere mortal—”

Wen Xiaoran spoke almost reflexively, then suddenly realized something and corrected himself.

“You are indeed widely read.”

Yan Yi was speechless.

The great villain’s skill in sarcasm had improved!

What else could she do but use ancient texts as an excuse?

Was she supposed to tell this old antique that he lived inside a book, a male-oriented restricted novel, and that she had transmigrated into it from another world to complete a mission?

Would he believe that?

He would probably think she was possessed and crush her with a flick of his finger, sending her straight to the final chapter.

Seeing that she sincerely wanted to save him, Wen Xiaoran could not help but feel moved.

He comforted her, “The old witch doctor is aged and prone to exaggeration.

My body is unharmed.”

Yan Yi was only half convinced and pressed further.

“He said the demonic energy injured your lungs and organs.

How can that be nothing?”

Wen Xiaoran seemed unconcerned.

“People of the Demon Realm can naturally repair bodily injuries.

It is of little consequence.”

After hearing this, Yan Yi’s thoughts drifted at the most inappropriate moment.

How enviable!

If in the real world illness and injury required no hospital visit, if one could simply lie flat and wait for the body to heal itself—

It would be humanity’s lifelong dream.

Seeing the strange look on her face, Wen Xiaoran frowned slightly.

“What are you thinking about?”

Her thoughts interrupted, Yan Yi raised her head blankly and met a pair of glass-like eyes, crystal clear as if washed by spring rain, dazzling and mesmerizing.

She quickly changed the topic.

“Your Excellency, what happens if one’s vital essence is damaged?”

The great villain had only said that bodily injuries could heal on their own.

Vital essence, however, did not belong to the physical body.

Wen Xiaoran did not answer.

His eyes slowly closed as he fell into deep thought.

Seeing his gloomy expression, Yan Yi sensed the seriousness of the matter and no longer had the heart to probe further.

She suddenly regretted not subscribing to and reading the entire book.

Her incomplete knowledge of the important plot left her ignorant even of something as crucial as vital essence.

“Your Excellency,” Yan Yi began carefully, “if you trust me, lend me the Feathered Cloak.

I will surely bring back the Frost Lotus.”

Two days later, Yan Yi donned the Feathered Cloak and stood with a group of Demon Realm guards at the center of the teleportation array, ready to depart.

The array activated.

Her body felt as though it were pulled by a powerful force toward their destination.

In the blink of an eye, when she opened her eyes again, they were already at the outskirts of the Frost Continent.

Though she had handed over the portrait of the Frost Lotus and thoroughly explained its growing conditions, Yan Yi still could not rest easy and insisted on coming along.

As far as the eye could see, everything was frozen.

The Frost Continent truly lived up to its name.

The biting cold made Yan Yi shiver uncontrollably.

Fortunately, the Feathered Cloak shielded her from the chill.

Otherwise, she would have perished here.

After Yan Yi left, Wen Xiaoran felt both joy and worry.

Joy that the mortal physician risked herself to save him—though what emotions lay behind her actions, he could not discern.

As time passed, his worry intensified.

He feared something might happen to her.

She had merely been a trivial gift delivered by his subordinates for amusement, yet she stirred his heart again and again, leaving him restless.

Wen Xiaoran could not understand it, yet he found himself unwilling to stop thinking.

Three days later, the group that had gone to harvest the Frost Lotus returned fully laden.

Supported by the old witch doctor Bu Shu, Wen Xiaoran waited outside the study, unable to suppress his joy.

From afar, he saw the Demon Realm guards hurrying back, dust-covered from their journey.

He silently breathed a sigh of relief.

Yet before his anxious heart could settle, he saw Wen Feng carrying someone in his arms.

The figure was soaked through, barely breathing—

It was Yan Yi.

The Feathered Cloak on her body was nowhere to be seen.

Wen Xiaoran staggered, nearly falling down the steps.

His throat tightened, swallowing became difficult, and his voice turned hoarse.

“What happened?”

With permission, Wen Feng carried her into the study and laid her down before explaining in heavy breaths—

“On the way to the peak of Frost Ice, we passed a glacier.

Miss Yan accidentally fell.

By the time I reached her, half her body was already frozen within the ice.

I suggested sending her back immediately, but she insisted on harvesting the Frost Lotus before returning…”

Wen Xiaoran’s legs weakened and he stepped back abruptly.

He steadied himself against the desk, barely managing to stand.

His heart felt as though pierced by countless sharp needles, a dense, lingering pain.

When Yan Yi volunteered to go, he had harbored doubts.

He suspected she sought his trust, perhaps to lurk at his side long-term and report back to her master.

But now, seeing her lying pale and barely breathing, it did not seem like an act any spy could perform.

The old witch doctor Bu Shu hurried about, using every method to dispel the cold from Yan Yi’s body.

Wen Xiaoran, though gravely injured, followed closely, fearing any mishap.

Wen Feng, anxious, urged, “Your Excellency, please return to your chambers and rest.”

“It’s fine.”

Wen Xiaoran waved him off and sat in the armchair beside the bed, gazing intently at the person lying there.

Wen Feng opened his mouth to speak but swallowed his words, waiting outside the study instead.

The next day, at dusk, Yan Yi slowly opened her eyes.

The first thing she saw was a handsome face magnified several times before her.

“Your—Your Excellency?”

Her head felt dizzy, and she had not yet fully awakened, unable to recall what had happened.

Looking around, she realized she was lying on Wen Xiaoran’s couch, with the great villain standing before her, his expression grim.

Her heart skipped a beat.

This is bad!

Had she overstepped her bounds and occupied the magpie’s nest?

“You’re awake?”

Wen Xiaoran’s voice, unable to conceal his worry, sounded close to her ear.

Yan Yi nodded blankly.

Before she could speak, the study door creaked open.

Wen Feng, who had kept vigil outside for a day and night, rushed in upon hearing movement.

Yan Yi instinctively looked toward the doorway.

As she recognized him, her memories gradually returned, and tension and fear surged within her.

She suddenly sat up, tightly gripping Wen Xiaoran’s wrist.

Her lips parted, yet no sound emerged.