Chess

The noise of the outside world was cut off by a heavy curtain of jade beads. Bai Yujing sat with his chin resting in one hand, gesturing with the other. “After you, Immortal Sovereign.”

Xuan Lie glanced at him and asked, “Your age.”

Bai Yujing hadn’t expected him to lead with such a trivial question. He answered candidly, “To answer the Sovereign, I am eight hundred and one years old.”

While asking for the age of an elder of the Demon Race might be considered offensive, to Bai Yujing, it was of no consequence.

However, when it was his turn, he wasn’t about to be as lenient as Xuan Lie. “May I ask the Sovereign: aside from the matters of Shen Fenglin and the Seed, did the Emperor’s decree mention anything else?”

Bai Yujing had calculated this carefully. As a “Heaven-reaching” young snake who had reached the Golden Core stage by eight hundred, it was only natural for him to care about matters regarding Ascension. Surely, this wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

However, Xuan Lie replied, “No.”

The Proverb Stone remained dark.

Bai Yujing licked his fangs, a trace of disbelief flickering in his heart.

…Did Qingyu truly only tell him those things? Or was there a flaw in how I phrased the question, allowing this man to find a loophole?

As his mind whirled with possibilities, Xuan Lie suddenly asked: “To this day, how many times have you molted your scales?”

Bai Yujing froze. A flash of humiliated rage crossed his eyes, but he didn’t quite dare to lose his temper. He merely gave Xuan Lie a piqued look and answered honestly, “…Nine times.”

As expected. It matched the anomaly Xuan Lie had sensed five years ago.

Ten years ago, Bai Yujing had molted eight times. Now, ten years later, he had shed his scales once more in a place Xuan Lie hadn’t seen.

—Perhaps even in front of someone else.

A dark thought flickered through Xuan Lie’s mind, but his face remained a mask of indifference. Bai Yujing detected no hint of danger.

Bai Yujing was currently making his own calculations. Could the light he saw on Xuan Lie and Shen Fenglin be the same thing?

He turned it over and over but couldn’t make sense of it. Eventually, he tossed his logic aside and asked directly: “When Shen Fenglin was cut down, did you see anything unusual on his person?”

Xuan Lie’s answer remained the same: “No.”

How could Xuan Lie not have seen it from such a close distance? Could it be that only I can see that eerie blue light?

Bai Yujing frowned, lost in a labyrinth of confusion.

Yet, amidst his suspicion, he didn’t notice that he had subconsciously let out a small sigh of relief—as if he were glad that Xuan Lie wasn’t his true enemy.

Xuan Lie watched the beauty who had been deep in thought since the start of the wager. A hint of amusement brushed his eyes, and he couldn’t resist teasing him: “The last time you dreamed… what did you see?”

Bai Yujing faltered, his expression stiffening delicately. Then, with a look of humiliated fury, he glared at Xuan Lie and muttered evasively, “…I dreamed I was abandoned by someone.”

While there was nothing unspeakable in that dream, inquiring about a Demon’s dreams was a grave breach of etiquette, even between Dao companions—let alone between those who weren’t.

Bai Yujing didn’t believe for a second that Xuan Lie, who had lived for tens of thousands of years, didn’t know this. Moreover, they had known each other for five hundred years. Therefore… this bastard was absolutely insulting him on purpose.

At this thought, a surge of vengeful spite rose within him.

Fine. You like being offensive, do you?

Bai Yujing sneered inwardly, though his face adopted a syrupy, radiant smile. “It’s my turn. Then I would also like to ask about the Sovereign’s dreams.”

“May I ask if a ‘perfect gentleman’ such as yourself… has ever had a erotic dream?”

As the words left his mouth, Bai Yujing wanted to laugh. To his utter shock, however, Xuan Lie replied without even a change in expression: “I have.”

…

…!?

Bai Yujing’s eyes flew wide. It took him three full breaths to process what Xuan Lie had said, and then he blurted out: “Who did you dream of—”

The Proverb Stone emitted a warning halo of white light, signaling that his turn had ended.

Bai Yujing snapped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth in frustration.

But just because his mouth was closed didn’t mean the matter was settled. On the contrary, his heart was pounding; he was dying of curiosity.

No way. This stone actually has erotic dreams? I have to get to the bottom of this.

Bai Yujing was itching with curiosity, even forgetting his original goal. He made a desperate resolve: no matter what Xuan Lie asked next, he would not let the gamble end until he had pried the contents of that dream out of him—

“In this life, what is your greatest regret?”

“…”

Bai Yujing froze, the expression on his face going blank.

After a long silence, he lowered his eyes, his face devoid of emotion. “…I’m sorry. I refuse to answer.”

The golden Proverb Stone erupted in a searing red light, symbolizing the end of the wager and Bai Yujing’s defeat.

The contract took effect. A restrictive curse instantly enveloped Bai Yujing’s Dantian.

However, this was only a Proverb Stone from a minor world; the curse it produced wasn’t particularly sophisticated—at most, it was at the Nascent Soul level.

It would be child’s play for Bai Yujing to break this bond, but the situation returned to the original problem: if he broke it, Xuan Lie would inevitably notice the anomaly.

“…”

Ultimately, the “mute beauty who had swallowed bitter gold” could only vent his anger on the perpetrator, glaring at Xuan Lie with a flushed face.

But no matter how hard he glared, the die was cast. Since he didn’t intend to resist, then according to the wager, the right to weave and dominate his next dream would be handed entirely to the man before him.

This meant he would lose consciousness in the dream, his perceptions could be altered, and he would completely submit to whatever reality the other created—this was the fundamental reason why the Demon Race never allowed anyone to step into their dreams.

Xuan Lie remained indifferent to his glare. Bai Yujing couldn’t help but goad him: “I haven’t dreamed in ten years.”

Since the gamble was over, the stone was no longer active and naturally didn’t detect this lie.

Xuan Lie rose and walked over to him, speaking with absolute calm. “No matter. I can wait.”

As he spoke, he offered his hand to Bai Yujing.

Xuan Lie’s posture wasn’t so much indifferent as it was “utterly in control.” Bai Yujing knew him too well; seeing this, his composure finally broke into full-blown humiliated rage.

…Wait for your damn father!

He had started this gamble to humiliate Xuan Lie—how had he ended up becoming the stake?

Fuming, Bai Yujing sat in his seat with a dark face, having no intention of getting up to follow him.

Xuan Lie let out a soft “Tsk.” He leaned down, grabbed the other’s wrist, and pulled him directly into his embrace.

Though Bai Yujing stubbornly refused to stand on his own, once he was actually hauled up, he didn’t cause a scene. He simply pursed his lips and allowed himself to be led out of the booth by the wrist.

In the vast gambling hall, not a single person noticed that an extra person had appeared.

…So this bastard was perfectly capable of bringing me in directly! He deliberately chose not to earlier just so he could force me into my original form and play with me!

Bai Yujing was smoking with rage as he walked through the hall. The outside area was filled with conventional gambles—dice, Pai Gow, and the like—which held no interest for him.

He glanced around briefly before turning his gaze back to the man beside him.

—What exactly did Xuan Lie dream about in that dream?

Bai Yujing narrowed his eyes and reached back, gently grasping the wrist that held his own. The other man paused and looked at him calmly.

…Hypocritical stinking stone. God knows how lewd he is in his dreams, yet he puts on such a dignified act the moment he’s dressed.

Bai Yujing sneered internally. On the surface, he tugged at the man’s wrist like he was acting spoiled. When the man didn’t budge, Bai Yujing simply leaned in closer. “Immortal Sovereign, so… who exactly did you dream of in that erotic dream?”

Xuan Lie looked down at the person in his arms. The beauty’s eyes were bright, but they held no trace of jealousy or envy—only unhidden curiosity and a touch of subtle malice.

This “innocent yet wicked” air of a bystander truly made one’s teeth itch.

Xuan Lie’s eyes darkened. “An old acquaintance.”

Old acquaintance? Which old acquaintance does he have that I don’t know?

Suspicion grew in Bai Yujing’s heart as they coincidentally walked into the Wind and Moon Zone.

This was where people gambled on “Romantic Fate”; many cultivators came here to wager the rest of their lives.

Bai Yujing held onto him as they watched for a while, then suddenly seemed to realize something. He looked up and said, “Does the Sovereign love that old acquaintance? Otherwise, how could a man like you have such a dream?”

He clung to the topic, determined to get an answer. Any ordinary person would have been humiliated by now, but Xuan Lie showed no sign of being offended. Instead, he explained, “I was caught in a plot by the Shaman Race, and thus I dreamed.”

He didn’t answer the first question, and Bai Yujing didn’t notice the omission. Instead, he couldn’t help but laugh internally—The grand Immortal Sovereign actually got caught in a Shaman plot? What a useless, decorative piece of work.

While mocking him in his heart, he clung to the man relentlessly. “Since an old acquaintance entered your dream… what did you dream about?”

Xuan Lie paused and looked down at him.

The little beauty, who had no experience with the world, raised his eyebrows in a feigned look of maturity. His smile was full of the teasing arrogance of one who knows they are favored.

Xuan Lie hadn’t intended to answer, fearing it would frighten him. But in that moment, he suddenly changed his mind.

Xuan Lie pinched the other’s cheek and lifted his chin. Bai Yujing’s smile froze instantly, replaced by sheer shock, revealing his uninitiated greenness and innocence.

The cold, black-gold mask obscured half of the man’s face, leaving the rest a blur—he looked exactly like the person in his memories.

Bai Yujing’s heart trembled; he subconsciously held his breath.

Xuan Lie leaned down and spoke into his ear in that familiar, cold tone: “I dreamed—”

“That I blindfolded him, and suspended him from the throne by his snake tail.”

“…”

The moment the words “snake tail” and “throne” were uttered, Bai Yujing realized instantly who the “old acquaintance” was. His entire body froze, his expression going completely blank.

“He coiled his tail, trying to flee, but his belly happened to rub against the rope knots. Losing his strength, he fell upon the throne, weeping as he cursed me.”

“At the end of the dream, exhausted, he finally gave up his struggle.”

“Amidst his sobs, he lowered his eyes and softly called me ‘Master,’ begging me to let him go.”