Mo Zhan After some time running, exhaustion hit him.
He had no strength left.
He sat somewhere unknown for half an hour, crying, until his tears finally dried.
Then he stood up, trying to find his way back to the residence.
He couldn't remember from which direction he had come.
Lost and confused, he wandered aimlessly.
Each time he stepped forward, he muttered curses—either toward himself or toward the talking book.
"Damn it… that cursed talking book.
Where the hell did you throw me?!"
A few times, out of frustration, he stomped on the ground.
He shouted his curses loudly.
His face darkened with anger, his bloodshot eyes like two bowls of red.
Grumbling and wandering, he still couldn't find the way.
Then something caught his attention—the sound of water, like a gentle stream, not too far away.
He didn't want to cause trouble, so he walked in the opposite direction at first.
But curiosity won.
He returned and headed toward the sound.
The closer he got, the calmer and more soothing the sound became.
Trees blocked his way, and he pushed through them with difficulty.
Finally, he stepped out into an open space.
Before him was a massive, beautiful waterfall.
Mo Zhan forgot all his anger and sadness.
His mouth fell open in awe.
"Whoa… incredible. What is this place?"
He was about to take a step forward when he noticed someone sitting on a rock in the middle of the water.
This time he was even more shocked.
A young man—handsome, snow-white skin, neatly shaped black brows, a well-proportioned nose, and a slim face.
With eyes closed, he sat straight on the stone.
In the dim light, a soft glow radiated from his body, illuminating the surroundings.
This person was none other than Lan Sizui, first disciple of Xuanyu and the youngest high-ranked cultivator of the Immortal Realm.
Because of his strong inner power, natural talent in swordsmanship, intelligence, and breathtaking beauty, he was famous among high-ranking elders.
However, aside from the highest-ranked individuals, no one had seen him or the other disciples of Xuanyu.
Lan Sizui, like the rest of Xuanyu's disciples, was responsible for monitoring demons.
Mo Zhan touched his mouth and felt moisture.
He had been staring at him so intensely that he was drooling.
He swallowed hard and whispered,
"Geez… what's this kid doing here, sleeping? Did he fall asleep sitting up?"
For a moment, Mo Zhan considered going back,
but then he saw the height of the rock Lan Sizui was sitting on.
"What if he suddenly leans back and falls into the water? He might die."
Feeling concerned, Mo Zhan stepped forward.
Narrow stones filled the gap between him and Lan Sizui, each barely enough for two feet.
Mo Zhan feared heights, but he carefully placed his foot on the stones.
His heart raced, sweat gathered on his forehead, and his body temperature dropped.
With trembling legs, he finally reached the large stone where Lan Sizui was sitting.
He sighed in relief—proud he had crossed four stones.
He brushed his face with his hand and examined Lan Sizui closely.
Up close, he looked even more beautiful.
He wore simple, neat white clothes, and a white circular headband on his forehead made him look even more attractive.
Despite the coldness of his features, he looked cute and sweet.
So the first thing that came to Mo Zhan's mind to call him was: "little kitty."
Mo Zhan reached out and poked his cheek with a fingernail.
At that moment, Lan Sizui's eyes snapped open—
his silver eyes meeting Mo Zhan's.
For a brief moment, they stared at each other,
as if something strongly connected them and yet pushed them apart at the same time.
Lan Sizui frowned.
He gathered power in his right hand and struck Mo Zhan's chest with his palm, sending him flying several meters away.
Lan Sizui looked at his hand in surprise, whispering,
"Even with such weak inner power… he has a strong demonic aura."
In an instant, he disappeared from where he sat and appeared before Mo Zhan.
With cold, disdainful eyes, he looked down at him.
Mo Zhan writhed in pain.
It felt like the bones in his chest had shattered.
He could barely move.
A voice reached his ears—
"Just one strike… how pathetic."
Mo Zhan turned his head toward the voice.
Lan Sizui stood before him.
Instead of thinking about the pain,
he felt furious about being hit—and about that insulting remark.
He struggled, pushed himself up, and faced Lan Sizui.
One hand on his chest, he glared at him with accusing eyes.
Despite his weakness, he shouted,
"Hey, you! What's your problem? You trying to kill someone?!"
Lan Sizui stared at him blankly at first, then replied coldly,
"I don't kill people. I kill demons."
Mo Zhan frowned.
He wanted to say he wasn't a demon, but stopped himself.
Instead, he said,
"I didn't do anything to you. Why did you hit me? Our realms are allies now, aren't—"
Hearing this, Lan Sizui's anger ignited.
He grabbed Mo Zhan by the throat, cutting his words short.
Lan Sizui hated the Demon Realm.
His mother and father had been killed in a battle with demons.
To this day, he believed the culprit was the Demon Lord, Lu Wang.
He had sworn to one day kill Lu Wang and destroy his realm.
Mo Zhan's face turned purple as Lan Sizui's grip tightened.
He struggled desperately for his life,
but Lan Sizui's fiery eyes continued to glare at him.
Finally, Lan Sizui came back to his senses.
He released Mo Zhan and turned his back.
Mo Zhan collapsed to the ground, gasping for air, fighting for breath—
and soon lost consciousness.
Lan Sizui forced himself to calm down.
He looked at Mo Zhan's unconscious body.
He approached him, examining him from head to toe,
then stared at his face.
Something inside him whispered—
this one was not an ordinary demon.
Despite his hatred,
he felt an inexplicable pull toward this man.