Chapter Text
Finally.
Zhuo Yichen savors the rush of energy that courses through his body as he grabs the handle of the re-forged Cloud Light Sword.
Power.
It’s exhilarating. Intoxicating.
He does absolutely nothing to prevent a wide grin from appearing on his face.
He’s turned away from Zhao Yuan Zhou and Lord Bai Yan.
There’s no need to pretend.
He hears Zhao Yuan Zhou spit up a mouthful of blood; terribly weakened after having used up nearly all of his energy to repair his sword.
The sound of his pained wheezing is music to Zhuo Yichen’s ears.
Glee, unrestrained, unbridled, blooms in his chest.
Finally, he’s got that annoying Da Yao exactly where he wants him.
Under his thumb.
He rolls his eyes one last time before biting the inside of his cheek to make his eyes tear up.
He’s always found it easy to cry. To soften his midnight blue doe eyes with grief and innocence.
Nobody, especially not Zhao Yuan Zhou, has ever realized that it’s all a farce. A mask, just like the one the Great Demon likes to don.
He transforms his grin into an expression of guilt and regret.
He turns around, presenting gratitude on a silver platter as he’s supposed to.
As he’s expected to.
He turns the blade downwards as he grasps Zhao Yuan Zhou’s shaking shoulder.
Unconsciously, he puts his hand atop the sacred boulder.
“Promise me, you’ll protect the Wilderness and the mortal world with me from now on.”
“Promise me, you’ll spare Li Lun’s life.”
Zhuo Yichen is nothing short of revolted as Zhao Yuan Zhou’s burnt hand covers his.
He wishes nothing more than to pull his hand away and push that useless old demon as far as he possibly can. Which would be quite far, given the power that’s surging through his meridians right now.
Courtesy of said demon.
He does neither. Merely puts on his usual sincere frown and nods obediently.
Really, does the Monkey have nothing better to do than force him to make oaths?
He’s not planning to keep any of them.
Except the first.
Wen Zongyu’s words resonate with him now:
“Give me Zhao Yuan Zhou’s neidan. He’s the evil demon who killed your family. Why protect him? Wouldn’t it be more fitting to extract his inner core and avenge your father and brother?”
Looking at Zhao Yuan Zhou’s fathomless black eyes, Zhuo Yichen finds himself agreeing with the leader of the Chongwu camp.
There’s nothing but evil in those eyes.
Evil that he will eradicate.
Forever.
He catches Zhao Yuan Zhou, who’s nearly unconscious from the pain of the Ever-Burning Wood.
Holds him and lowers him onto the floor in his arms as the Demon looks into his eyes naively, unquestioningly;
“I’ll have to ask Xiao Zhuo-Daren to protect me well till then.”
Protect him? The most repulsive Demon in the world? The one who brutally murdered his last remaining family?
Zhuo Yichen is so furious that he wants to laugh.
But he says nothing.
Just wraps his arm around Zhao Yuan Zhou as he waits for Lord Bai Yan to leave.
He smiles at her reassuringly, telling her he’ll take care of Zhao Yuan Zhou.
Her retreating footsteps seem agonizingly slow to Yichen, who’s itching to move his arm from around the Great Demon’s chest to his throat.
His fingers twitch: it would easy, so easy; to wrap his hand around the Demon’s pale neck and strangle him.
He wouldn’t die. No, even though he’s at the nadir of his atrocious existence, he would not die from a mere chokehold.
But oh, it would be so satisfying to watch him struggle for breath.
Zhuo Yichen breathes in deeply, curbing his rage.
Two nights.
That’s how long he has to wait before he can finally do the deed.
He’s waited for eight years.
Two nights should go by in the blink of an eye.
He’s brought back to reality from his thoughts by the faint voice of Zhao Yuan Zhou is his arms.
“Xiao Zhuo-”
Zhuo Yichen snaps. All the self-control he’s been practicing evaporate with those two words.
Faster than thought, he flips the two of them around bodily.
Zhao Yuan Zhou’s body slams into the cold stone floor, with Zhuo Yichen practically on top of him.
He’s exalted by the sharp gasp of pain Zhao Yuan Zhou lets out.
“Don’t you dare. You have no right-”
He closes his eyes briefly to let his anger subside a little before he finds his voice again.
It comes out a choked whisper instead of the growl he had been aiming for.
“How dare you call me that name? Do you really think that you deserve to say my name with such familiarity? As if we’re friends?”
If thoughts could blaze as bright as fire, Zhuo Yichen is sure, Zhao Yuan Zhou would be burning right now: and the agony would be nothing compared to what he had endured from the Ever-burning wood.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Zhuo Yichen cannot believe the look on Zhao Yuan Zhou’s face as he says those words.
As if he’s confused.
As if he’s worried, concerned about Yichen.
As if he doesn’t know.
Another wave of anger, of hatred, of loathing gushes through Yichen.
Before he knows it, he’s slammed the trembling Demon against the trunk of the Jianmu tree.
He ignores the red stain that splatters on his sleeve as Zhao Yuan Zhou throws up more blood.
“There is nothing wrong with me, Zhao Yuan Zhou. Don’t you recognize me? This is who I am.”
“What did you ask me to promise you? Protect the wilderness? Spare Li Lun’s life?”
Zhuo Yichen lets out the laugh that he’d been holding back.
“Did the Wilderness spare my father, my brother? Did Li Lun spare my life?
This is what you and Li Lun have made me, Zhao Yuan Zhou. A monster.
Look at me. Am I not your mirror-image, Zhu Yan?”
Zhuo Yichen watches in pleasure, as Zhao Yuan Zhou’s eyes widen in pain, in fright.
Yichen has never called him Zhu Yan before. But now he does. Because that is who he sees. The evil demon who destroyed his life.
He draws the newly re-forged Cloud Light Sword.
Zhao Yuan Zhou stiffens as the blade against his neck draws blood.
Yichen crouches before him, eyes red yet hand steady.
His voice is softer than silk, colder than ice.
“I told you I would come to kill you once you repaid your debt and atoned for your sins.”
He shoves his face in closer to the barely breathing Demon,
“You can never repay the debt of blood, Zhu Yan. But I’ll accept this as well. You shattered my Sword, took away my humanity. Now you’ve broken yourself to re-forge it. The cycle of karma has come a full round.”
His voice turns into a hiss,
“I asked you whether you wanted to live. But you told me yourself: that you’re happy to be the anomaly, a great demon wishing for death.”
“So, come; let me take you to your death.”
Without waiting for an answer, Zhuo Yichen sweeps the nearly unconscious demon into his arms.
He holds him, gentle as a lover carrying his sleeping beloved.
But it is not love but hate that powers his muscles; makes the feeble demon in his arms feel so light.
He moves with resolute feet toward the darkest annex he could find in the temple at Kunlun.
Dark, damp, devoid of life.
Just like Zhu Yan.
Even as he moves through the dimly lit hallways, Zhuo Yichen can’t understand what annoys him more:
The unconscious Demon’s head that falls on his shoulder or his own heartbeat, that for some inscrutable reason, beats in sync with Zhu Yan’s.
And unbeknownst to the world, two demons move, slipping quietly into the darkness.