The rain falling from the sky seemed to have no end. Occasionally, lightning flashed across the sky, leaving a bright white mark in the foggy sky and sending out faint sparks of electric current.
The man in red stood there, staring at the broken Buddha amulet in his hand, with an unfathomable look between his eyebrows.
He knelt down slowly and rested his forehead against the tombstone, his face revealing a trace of vulnerability that he would never show in front of others.
It is difficult to describe in words how he felt when he saw Lingyun Sword Master when he was on the verge of life and death.
Rong Lian hated Ling Yun, he really hated him.
Before Sword Master Lingyun became Sword Master, he hated himself, the Blood Contract Holder.
There may be no need for a reason for a person to hate another person, but there must be a reason for a person to hate another person.
And Rong Lian hates humans, he hates all humans.
A long, long time ago, when Rong Lian was young, he and his mother lived in a wealthy family in the mortal world.
The family is located in the southern border and is a prominent local family. The family is wealthy and has lived together for several generations, with many rules and regulations.
Rong Lian knew from a young age that he was different from other children.
He was born handsome, with an androgynous, delicate and exquisite appearance. The other children in the mansion only dared to watch him from a distance, never approaching him, let alone playing with him.
It was not the first time that Rong Lian heard those kids gossiping about him and his mother behind their backs. But the more they talked, the more Rong Lian wanted to appear in front of them, wearing a fiery red dress, as bright as the morning glow in the sky, if it could be an eyesore to others, the better.
The mistress of the mansion saw him on the road, asked the servant to pass him a candy, and then turned around and laughed with the female relatives: "Look at his seductive appearance. At such a young age, he is just like his shameless and vixen mother."
"After that person came in, some strange things happened frequently in the mansion... We have to ask a master to come and take a look one day. I always feel that there are some unclean things in the mansion."
"That's right. Our Rong family tradition is that we can't allow a woman of unknown origin to enter the house. Third Master was also confused for a moment. However, perhaps after some time, the novelty will wear off. Look, now you have no name or status. There are only two servants. Madam, please don't be angry. Third Master is still on your side."
Those people slowly walked away, completely unaware of the child standing behind the rockery, listening quietly.
Rong Lian ran back home. His mother was lying weakly on the edge of the bed, smiling at him, "Rong'er, where did you go to play today?"
His mother was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Although her face was sickly, her beauty that seemed to light up the whole room was still intact.
Only Rong Lian could see this scene. When others looked at their mother, they could only see a beautiful face, not the beauty that could topple a country or a city.
Rong Lian knew that he was different from his mother.
They all have tails and ears.
When Rong Lian got excited, a pair of snow-white ears would often grow out of his hair. Perhaps because of this, his mother rarely let him go out alone.
Because those people outside are not as good-looking as them, and they can't have ears like them. They will even scream and beat people with tails on their ears and ask the Taoist priest to chant spells.
Perhaps it was for this reason that the mother used magic to modify her appearance, making her less conspicuous.
Rong Lian didn't want to talk about his grievances, nor did he want her to know the servants' gossip. Instead, he sat down obediently, restrained the ostentatious expression on his face, and whispered: "No, I just walked around in the yard. Don't worry, mother, I didn't run around."
No one in this mansion was willing to approach them.
Even Rong Lian's nominal father looked at him with indifference in his eyes.
When Rong Lian was ten years old, his mother suddenly fell seriously ill.
Although my mother's illness had always been bad, it suddenly worsened that year. Even the doctor shook his head and said that she would not survive the winter.
Rong Lian would stand guard at the door day and night, watching over the small medicine stove that was emitting white steam. Meanwhile, his nominal father, with a few newly arrived beauties, would play and flirt in the pavilion in the middle of the lake, reveling in music and revelry every night, having a great time.
When his mother was seriously ill, the man never came to visit her in the backyard once. Instead, the mistress came several times with people in a hypocritical manner, and one could sense the malice from a distance.
Rong Lian had never hated humans so much.
At the beginning of spring, my mother's illness finally improved.
One night, Rong Lian watched his mother lying on the bed, vomiting a bloody demon pill from her throat, putting the pill in a box and placing it on the bedside, then leaving with him, never looking back.
By then, Rong Lian had already woken up and knew his identity as a half-demon, so he naturally knew what this meant.
Only pure-blooded demons can transform into their original forms, while half-demons like Rong Lian can only partially transform into demons.
The demon pill is the source of power for the demon race. If you lose the demon pill, you lose your power and can never return to your original form.
He looked at his mother in confusion, but his mother just lowered her brows, touched his hair, and looked gentle.
"I owe him a life. If I don't pay him back, according to the rules of the Qingqiu clan, I will have to shave my head and eat vegetarian food and chant Buddhist scriptures."
Diji's voice was very light, as if she had buried all her emotions deep down. "Now it's all right. We've paid it off, and we can go back."
Rong Lian did not doubt him, but looked up and asked, "Then mother, where should we go now?"
"We are now going to a place that my mother has spent most of her life escaping from, but will eventually have to return to."
So they returned to the demon tribe.
No one from the demon tribe welcomed them.
To the Qingqiu clan, Princess Di is a traitor; to other clans, she was a former rival; to the entire demon clan, she is a shame.
They can only live in the cold palace, which is only separated from the human village by a wall and only slightly separated by a barrier.
Humans often tried to climb over the wall from that side, and naughty human children also threw stones from that side. Several times, the windows were broken and accidentally hit Rong Lian on the head, causing his head to bleed.
Rong Lian also doesn't like the demon race.
Although the people here have ears and tails, the gazes they give us are mixed with more things than those of humans.
But there were also demon tribes that came here. The carriages of the Red Bird, Green Dragon, White Tiger, and Qingqiu tribes had all stopped outside the courtyard. They marched in a mighty procession with countless servants, and looked very proud.
She has no power, but only beauty. She was once high and mighty like a goddess, but now she is miserable and destitute, and no one knows what her fate will be in this place where the weak are the prey of the strong. If the Qingqiu clan had not cared about their reputation, they would not even have a place to stay.
As if they had reached some kind of tacit understanding, high-ranking officials from other families often came here. One day, when he returned, Rong Lian even saw the bright yellow imperial carriage in the courtyard.
He stood under the window and heard the man breathing heavily, the sound mixed with the creaking of the bed, it was extremely harsh.
"You stepped on my head for so many years, and now you have finally fallen to this end... How is it?"
A vague sound came from the dark palace, like the sound of a broken bellows, unpleasant and hoarse.
Rong Lian's eyes were bloodshot and he rushed forward like a madman, but was knocked to the ground by a punch from the servants brought by the Demon King, and his head was stepped on by the muddy soles of their shoes.
The sound suddenly became louder, coming from all directions, with sarcasm, ridicule, and a woman's painful howl, lingering in every corner.
Rong Lian had never hated himself so much for not having any power. The word "half-demon" doomed him to be limited. Even if he worked harder, he could not break through the shackles of his bloodline.
He wants to leave.
"If we leave, where else can we go? Apart from our clan, the demon race has no place to stay anywhere. We are incompatible with the mortal world and are aliens everywhere. Humans and us can never coexist."
Di Ji smiled bitterly: "My life has been like this, and it is my mother who has let you down. But Rong'er, only here can you live a better life. I never regret my choice."
"Promise your mother not to resist those who are stronger than you. Your mother would rather you live than see you die."
Rong Lian clenched his fists, a smell of rust and blood oozing out of his mouth, "Okay."
However, even this kind of life of living under someone else's roof could not last long.
My mother fell ill again, and her condition became more severe. She withered away at a speed visible to the naked eye. The Demon King lost interest several times and walked away in anger.
When the princess fell ill this time, all the imperial doctors were helpless.
Rong Lian knew that it was useless to ask anyone for help because his mother was suffering from a mental illness.
He stayed awake for several days, searching through ancient books in the monster tribe's library, and finally found an item that was recorded in the book.
Legend has it that there is a herb called "Big Dream", which is said to be able to make people forget their pain and strengthen their body.
"Mother, wait for me."
He knelt at the head of the bed, looked at Di Ji's closed eyes, and rushed into the secret realm without stopping.
Rong Lian naturally knew the danger of that secret realm. For him, who was in the late Jindan stage, it was no less than a death place.
However, my mother's mental illness has triggered her underlying illness. If she is not treated in a short period of time, the consequences will be disastrous.
Perhaps it was God's mercy that he was fortunate enough to find this legendary magical herb in a cave in a secret place.
Rong Lian was missing his mother so much at the time that he did not notice that he had already been imprisoned.
A demon cultivator with the Nascent Soul stage had long been eyeing Rong Lian, the Qingqiu prince's beauty, and had blocked him in a cave in an attempt to force him to submit.
Rong Lian fought bloody battles with him for several days, at the cost of several tails, and was seriously injured and fell into a coma.
At the moment he fainted, the edge of the boy's white clothes flashed by.
For the next seven years, Rong Lian's memory was blank.
After he woke up, he didn't remember what happened in the past seven years, and he didn't know who he was or what his name was in the seven years before he woke up.
When Rong Lian regained his memory and remembered that he was the prince of Qingqiu, he discovered that he had actually signed a blood contract with a weak and disgusting human being.
None of these are the most fatal. The most fatal thing is... it has been seven years.
Rong Lian rushed back to the demon tribe like crazy.
However, what greeted him was a green tombstone.
The servants outside the cold palace were chatting while washing clothes, saying that the princess was seriously ill and dying, but the demon king tortured her ruthlessly, and the prince whose biological father was unknown was nowhere to be found. The princess then carried a palace lantern and lay at the window of the cold palace day and night, waiting, watching people coming and going in the distance, and refused to move even if she was hit by stones thrown by the human race.
Unfortunately, the princess waited for a very long time, but in the end her son never returned.
He died on the Demon King's bed.
Even after death, she was humiliated, wrapped in a straw mat and thrown into a mass grave. The servants in the cold palace could not bear it and moved her back overnight and dug a grave for her out of pity.
Rong Lian knelt in front of the grave for three days and three nights, then turned around and stepped into the power vortex of the demon clan.
He is not a person who is obsessed with power. Compared with power, Rong Lian prefers to be a playboy in red, free and unrestrained, without any worries.
But from that moment on, he swore that one day, he would ascend to the position of the Demon King and make those people pay with blood.
Rong Lian hates humans, hates monsters, and hates everyone.
He hated the man who betrayed his mother, and he hated humans as well. He even hated the innocent blood contract holder.
He hated the demon race. So after he inherited the throne, he killed many people, and spared no one who had humiliated the Qingqiu Princess. Even after becoming the Demon King, Rong Lian did not want to make this place better, because this place was rotten and smelly from the root.
He hated fate even more, and hated the seven years he had missed, which he could have made up for.
Rong Lian thought about it more than once that it would be better for him to die in that cave. Otherwise, he would forget everything when he thought about how he was living a happy and carefree life day and night outside, while his mother was waiting for him in the cold palace with a lamp lit all night long.
Why should we save him
But it was just such a person, there was just such a person, who, despite his undisguised disgust, remained silent and quietly asked for the Buddha amulet from the Buddha Bathing Sect. And before he died, he used half of his blood and the bone-eroding pain to tremble and cut off the blood contract.
At that time, Rong Lian was infected by the state of coexistence of the blood contract, his eyebrows and eyes were also red, and he was on the verge of becoming a demon.
The moment Ling Yun severed the blood contract, Rong Lian no longer hated him.
It was clear in Rong Lian's memory that even though they had signed a blood pact, their contacts and meetings were very rare.
He couldn't figure out why Ling Yun did this, and he had been thinking about it for many years but still couldn't figure it out. Just like he couldn't figure out why Ling Yun asked for a Buddha amulet for him.
He had never been so eager to know what had happened in the seven years that were missing from his memory.
Rong Lian once thought that the first seven years were meaningless, but now, with the loosened fragments of memory, he began to feel sad for no reason, as if a piece of his heart was cut out and his internal organs were moved out of place.
The rain was still falling and the thunder was still roaring. His head looked like someone was cutting it with a knife.
In a trance, Rong Lian suddenly remembered that during those rare times in the past thousand years when he didn't feel pain during thunderstorms, it seemed that he happened to be wearing this Buddha amulet.
And now, it is broken.
The Demon King stared at the broken end of the Buddha amulet, closed his eyes dejectedly, and his forehead burned the cold tombstone into a scorching heat.
The boy in his memory was still talking to him, his cold eyes and eyebrows were filled with a hint of smile, and the roasted chicken skewered on bamboo sticks in his hands was sizzling on the fire. The two of them squatted under the eaves in the rain, sharing the hard-won pheasant together, and the rain curtain dripped down, as if they were forever sealed in that small space.
Nothing could stop the pain caused by this old disease, and no one smiled and called him a fox.
He lost his mother and he lost another person.