The fox hill embraced Yetao in its familiar stillness as he slipped back into his cave, moving with the stealth of a shadow. No sooner had reached, he collapsed onto his bed, arms flung wide, releasing a deep, theatrical sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his entire adventure.
"I'm going to an ocean?" The words escaped him as a breathless whisper, suspended in the quiet air of his sanctuary. For a moment, he stared into the empty space, eyes unfocused, lost in the realm of imagination.
Suddenly, excitement erupted like a wildfire. With the unbridled enery, he began to roll across the bed, kicking his legs and arms. A squeal of pure joy escaped his lips—a sound of anticipation so raw and uncontrolled that it seemed to bounce off the cave walls.
As quickly as it began, the moment passed. Yetao collapsed, catching his breath, a contented sigh replacing his earlier exuberance.
"Oh right," he muttered, instantly shifting from childlike excitement to calculated scheming. "I have to plan my perfect escape."
He sat up, legs folded beneath him, fingers moving with precision as he began to unravel his dilemma. "I've already used the training in seclusion excuse," he mumbled, folding one finger down. "And since this is my last month of cultivation, my aunt won't believe it this time."
Another finger folded, accompanied by a hint of frustration. "The fake contagious illness worked before—but only for two days, and I made it back quickly. Can't use that now."
His brow furrowed, creating delicate lines of concentration. The weight of his challenge hung in the air—how to convince his ever-watchful aunt to let him disappear for an entire week? Each of his previous excuses had been carefully crafted for short absences, but this mission was different. This was a full week, during the most crucial month of his thousand-year cultivation.
The night had crept by, being a relentless companion to Yetao's restless thoughts. As dawn broke, he found himself gaunt and haggard, the weight of sleeplessness etched into every line of his face. The chirping birds and the first tentative rays of light filtering through a small hole in the cave wall startled him.
"It's morning already?" he mumbled, his voice a rasp of exhaustion.
Rolling in frustration, Yetao let out a groan. "I'm screwed," he whispered to the empty cave, his mind still desperately churning for an escape plan.
Footsteps approached—measured, familiar. In an instant, Yetao was alert, hastily running his fingers through his hair, attempting to erase the evidence of his sleepless night.
His aunt's gentle concern filled the cave. "Taotao, you look like a ghost. Didn't you sleep last night?"
A forced smile—practiced and paper-thin—masked his internal panic. "It's okay, aunt. I'm fine," he assured her, his mind screaming with unspoken plans of escape.
Her next words caught him completely off guard. "I guess you must've been stressed about your accession. Good time he came with the news," she mused.
"What do you mean, aunt?" Confusion clouded Yetao's features.
Yang mi took a deep breath, the weight of something significant hanging in the air. "An immortal is here to help you, Taotao."
The words hung between them like a thunderbolt. "An immortal? In the demon realm?" Yetao's disbelief was palpable. The enmity between immortals and demons was legendary, a chasm as deep and untraversable as time itself.
His aunt's smile was tinged with memory and resignation. "I know what you're thinking," she said softly. "The fox clan has always remained neutral in conflicts between immortals and demons. Those are all in the past"
She continued, her voice carrying the weight of old memories. "This person is the son of a great immortal who helped me ascend. I never expected he'd send his son to aid your accession." A sigh escaped her, laden with unspoken history. "Seems like he still feels guilty about things that happened in the past."
Yetao's mind reeled. "Guilty? For what? And first of all, who is he?"
The cave seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the revelation that hung just beyond the edge of understanding.
Yang Mi's voice carried the delicate weight of a long-hidden truth. "Taotao... I've always told you your parents were great people who died an honorable death, haven't I?"
Sadness clouded Yetao's eyes, a familiar ache rising within him. "Yes," he whispered, "You said they died in an accident saving numerous children of some other clan." The words hung between them—a memory of loss that had defined his entire existence.
Her sigh was laden with centuries of unspoken pain. "Those children," she began carefully, "were from the immortal realm."
The revelation struck Yetao like a physical blow. His aunt continued, her words painting a tragic picture of sacrifice and heroism. "They found children trapped in a goblin's cave, held hostage during a conflict. The children were dying, unable to breathe due to the high demon miasma energy. Your parents saved them but became trapped themselves, ultimately losing their lives."
Yetao froze, his mind struggling to process the weight of this new information.
"They loved you so much," Yang Mi continued, her voice softening. "In the message stone they held, they said they saw your face in every child trapped in that accident. That's why they risked everything to save them." She explained how the rescued immortal children were important heirs, and how their gratitude had transformed their relationship with the fox clan.
"The grand immortal has helped us ever since—lending strength, offering advice. He even helped me ascend without tainting my energy, making me the most powerful head our clan has ever seen." Pride and pain intertwined in her words. "I've passed all my teachings to you, Taotao. And now, he's sent one of his own sons to check on you."
With a gentleness that belied the magnitude of her revelation, she offered Yetao a choice. "I'm not forcing you to accept. We'll be waiting in the main hall. Meet me by afternoon if you wish."
After she left, Yetao was consumed by a mix of emotions. "They saw my face in those kids?," he muttered bitterly, "but they forgot that I exist too." A wave of his hand seemed to attempt banishing these painful thoughts.
His internal dialogue continued, a testament to his complex understanding of sacrifice. "But I can't blame anyone, can I? If someone's to blame, it's those stupid goblins who took children as hostages. And yet, I can't even seek vengeance—the goblins were wiped from history when I was just a child."
As the sun climbed to its zenith, marking the approach of noon, Yetao remained lost in the intricate landscape of his thoughts—a terrain as complex and layered as his own mysterious heritage.
A resolute breath escaped Yetao. "I can't keep thinking forever," he muttered to himself. "I'll just meet with them, reject politely—that's the correct thing to do, especially since I need to escape tomorrow. And I really should see this immortal once."
Determination propelled him from his cave toward the main hall.
Yang Mi's face illuminated with joy as Yetao arrived. Seated upon the throne, she rose, her happiness radiating like warm sunlight. Yetao forced a smile—a fragile thing that barely masked the guilt churning within. He knew he would soon shatter her hopes by rejecting whatever proposal awaited him.
His gaze was drawn to a tall young man seated near the throne. Curiosity pulled him forward, drawing him closer with an inexorable magnetism.
The moment the man turned; the world seemed to stop.
"Yuchen?" The name exploded in Yetao's mind, a silent scream of pure shock. His body froze mid-stride, muscles turning to stone, every nerve electrified with sudden, inexplicable tension.
Yuchen's sigh carried a weight of understanding. His eyes met Yetao's, a silent communication passing between them—recognition, surprise, something deeper.
Yetao's eyes spoke volumes: What are you doing here? His rapid blinking betrayed his inner turmoil.
Yuchen's casual shrug offered no explanation.
Yang Mi's confused voice cut through their silent exchange. "Why are you standing still, Taotao?"
With unexpected smoothness, Yuchen interjected. "If you don't mind, may I speak with him privately fox lord?" His polite smile was a masterpiece of diplomacy.
Yang mi let out a smile and nodded as acceptance.
Yetao's internal monologue raced. My aunt—who's suspicious of even a walking ant—is letting me go without questions? His bewildered gaze locked onto Yuchen, seeking answers.
A subtle gesture from Yuchen signaled Yetao to follow.
And follow he did, pulled by an irresistible current of curiosity and confusion, leaving behind the main hall.
The moment they reached a safe distance, Yetao's carefully cultivated composure shattered. He swept the area with a cautious glance, ensuring absolute privacy before unleashing a torrent of questions.
"Now will you tell me?" he exploded, his voice a mix of accusation and desperation. "Aren't you Lu's shadow? What are you doing here? Why does my aunt believe what you said? Did you do something to her?"
The barrage of questions hit Yuchen like a physical force. He stopped, releasing a deep, weary sigh that seemed to carry the weight of countless unspoken secrets.
"Why don't you ask one question at a time?" Yuchen suggested, his tone a blend of patience and mild exasperation.
Yetao's stubborn streak flared instantly. "No, answer all of them right away," he demanded, his eyes blazing with determination.
Another sigh escaped Yuchen—this one tinged with a mixture of resignation. "Fine," he conceded. "Yes, I'm the wolf lord's shadow, and I came to aid your escape. I did not brainwash your aunt or do anything else to her."
Yetao's eyes narrowed, sharp as a fox's intuition. "You forgot to answer why my aunt is believing you," he pointed out, refusing to let a single detail slip.
The next words hung in the air like a blade suspended mid-strike.
"That's because I'm really the immortal's son," Yuchen said.
The silence that followed was absolute. Tension crackled between them, electric and charged with unspoken implications.
"What?" Yetao's confusion was a tangible thing—a living, breathing entity that seemed to fill the entire space around them.
The revelation hung between them, waiting to be unpacked, promising to unravel everything Yetao thought he knew about his world.