Lu Shi’an was wiping Ning Yuzhao’s forehead with a cloth when suddenly, the boy’s brows furrowed tightly as he began to mutter something. Lu Shi’an leaned in close to listen, but the voice was too faint and garbled, allowing him to catch only a few fragmented words. Yet, those few words caused him to stop his ministrations entirely.
“Honored Lord, kill Lu.”
Lu Shi’an’s heart sank. He could not be sure of the original sentence. Was it “Honored Lord wants to kill Lu Shi’an,” or something else? Yuzhao had always been by his side; why would he have such a dream? Unless, like him, he was witnessing events through a dream-like state. But there was another possibility: that he was dreaming of his previous life. Ji Yu was likely in the same situation. Thinking of Ji Yu, Lu Shi’an remembered that book. He realized he had been wrong before; the records in that book might be true, but they were written from the subjective perspective of the two protagonists, Ji Yu and Lin Tian. This explained why the plot trajectory remained consistent while many details differed.
Then who was the Demon Lord in the book? The greatest variable right now was Ning Yuzhao. He did not appear in the original story at all; his existence was the change Lu Shi’an had wrought. If Lu Shi’an had not intervened, how would the original plot have unfolded? If his Master had not sent him to the mortal realm, he would have sent a Foundation Establishment disciple instead of a Core Formation one. If that disciple had encountered misfortune, Ning Yuzhao would never have reached the cultivation world safely. With such talent, if Ning Yuzhao had not achieved fame, there were only two possibilities: either he died, or he turned to the demonic path.
Connecting this to the fact that the phoenix, originally the spirit pet of the Demon Lord Suyu, was now contracted to Ning Yuzhao, while Suyu himself was nowhere to be found, it seemed highly likely that Suyu and Yuzhao were the same person. Having realized Yuzhao was Suyu, Lu Shi’an did not feel disgust. Instead, he felt a surge of heartache. If not for his own arrival, what horrific experiences would Yuzhao have endured to choose demonic cultivation and, after unifying the Demon Realm, exact such ruthless revenge on the cultivation world? Lu Shi’an gently smoothed the furrow between the boy’s brows. A moment later, Ning Yuzhao’s expression relaxed, and he clearly whispered two words: “Senior Brother.”
Lu Shi’an smiled. His affection had not been wasted. Regardless of what the previous part of that muttering was, it did not matter. He knew that this Ning Yuzhao would never raise a sword against him.
Half an hour later, Xiao Heng finally rushed back with a doctor. “Brother Lu, how is Yuzhao? Has he gotten worse?” Xiao Heng looked weary. There were few physicians in the cultivation world who dealt with common ailments, and finding one had been a long ordeal.
“Yuzhao is stable; he just had a nightmare,” Lu Shi’an said, ushering the doctor inside.
The physician checked Ning Yuzhao’s pulse and declared, “Do not worry, young masters. The boy is merely suffering from a chill, exacerbated by nightmares and extreme fright. I will write a prescription. Have him drink the medicine to induce sweating, and he will push the cold out of his system.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Here is the fee,” Lu Shi’an said, handing over a silver ingot. It was far more than necessary, but the doctor looked like a man of integrity, and Lu Shi’an knew the surplus would help the physician aid the impoverished.
“Brother Lu, you stay and look after him. I will walk the doctor out,” Xiao Heng volunteered. Lu Shi’an looked at him with gratitude. He had troubled Xiao Heng too much lately, and he vowed to repay him properly once these matters were resolved.
After Xiao Heng returned, Lu Shi’an sat by the bed, pondering the doctor’s words. A chill and a nightmare. He looked at the window; it was closed, meaning the boy must have caught the chill before falling asleep. Why had he sat by the window for so long? Ning Yuzhao’s behavior had been odd since the trip to the Nether Secret Realm. Lu Shi’an massaged his temples; he would have to pay closer attention to Yuzhao in the future.
In the middle of the night, Lu Shi’an was nodding off by the bedside when he sensed movement. He opened his eyes to see Ning Yuzhao slowly waking up.
“Yuzhao? Are you awake? Does anything hurt?” Lu Shi’an asked gently, wiping sweat from the boy’s face.
As soon as Ning Yuzhao woke and saw his senior brother’s tender gaze, he threw himself into Lu Shi’an’s arms and sobbed. He had had a terrifying dream in which Lu Shi’an pointed a sword at him, intent on killing him.
Lu Shi’an realized the tears were linked to that dream, but now was not the time to ask. He patted the boy’s back soothingly. “Yuzhao, it was just a dream, it is not real. Do not be afraid; your Senior Brother is here.” He added with a laugh, “Thankfully the inn is soundproof, or your wailing would have brought the whole place down on us.”
Ning Yuzhao felt embarrassed and stopped crying, pulling away awkwardly. “Senior Brother, will you always be good to me?”
Sensing the boy’s insecurity, Lu Shi’an smiled with his usual indulgence. “You are my junior brother. If I am not good to you, who would I be good to? Stop overthinking it; Senior Brother will always be good to you.”
Hearing this, Ning Yuzhao’s tears threatened to start again. Seeing him so distressed, Lu Shi’an wondered what could have caused such fear. “Yuzhao, the doctor said you had a nightmare. Did you dream of something bad?”
Ning Yuzhao fought the urge to confess and shook his head. “I do not remember, Senior Brother, just that it was a very scary dream.” He dared not tell him. If a man as kind as his senior brother had pointed a sword at him in the dream, it must have been because he had made a mistake.
Lu Shi’an dropped the subject. Throughout the rest of the night, he remained by Yuzhao’s side, patiently comforting him until he drifted back into a peaceful sleep.