Very soon, Xiao Lin and Pang Yizhi arrived with their men, broke through the barrier, and rescued everyone that the Nightmare Demon had captured.
Tan Jin and Yang Ruo were safe as well, which set Xiao Lin’s mind at ease. Pang Yizhi laughed:
Yang Ruo secretly stuck out her tongue. Pang Professor, oh Pang Professor, please don’t flatter me to death in public.
Tan Jin, hearing this, turned to glance at Yang Ruo, who was at that moment winking playfully at Pang Yizhi, as though shyly sending some private signal.
Exchanging glances…
The phrase leapt into Tan Jin’s mind.
His brows drew together slightly; with a flick of his sleeve, he turned and said coldly,
Yang Ruo quickly ended her banter with Pang Yizhi and followed behind Tan Jin.
Pang Yizhi watched the two of them walk away side by side. Propping up his chin, he mused aloud, “Nephew, didn’t you say Lady Ye Xiwu and her husband, Tan Jin, didn’t get along? That you were worried Tan Jin was being bullied in the Ye household? But from what I just saw, it’s clearly the Second Miss who’s accommodating this hostage husband of hers.”
Xiao Lin also gazed after their retreating backs, a hint of puzzlement flickering in his eyes.
He had watched Ye Xiwu grow up. She had always been willful and overindulged by her family, running rampant without scruple. Yet now she seemed softer, more reasonable—not so thoroughly unpleasant.
…
Back at the Ye estate, Yang Ruo and Tan Jin rested for one night and finally regained some energy. When she saw he was no longer in the room the next morning, she stepped out as well.
Chun Tao came up to greet her.
“Mm. Where’s Tan Jin?” Yang Ruo glanced around, but the courtyard was empty of him.
Did he go to the library again?
Before she could think further, breakfast had already been laid in the side hall. After eating, she looked outside—the day was clear and bright, a rare fine weather. She felt like going out for a stroll instead of locking herself away to practice talismans again.
As she passed by Fangwu Court, she happened to see Xiao Lin. Fangwu Court was where Ye Xiwu’s elder sister, Ye Bingshang, lived. She had just been rescued last night, so it was natural for Xiao Lin to keep watch over the woman he loved.
Yang Ruo wanted to slip away without disturbing this little couple’s tender moment. Unfortunately, Xiao Lin’s sharp eyes spotted her at once. Their gazes met, and it was impossible to pretend she hadn’t seen him. She had no choice but to go over, salute, and properly express her gratitude for last night’s rescue. After all, he and Tan Jin were her nominal saviors.
Xiao Lin said, “Second Miss, there is something I need to tell you.” He seemed hesitant, as if weighing his words.
Hearing this, Yang Ruo suddenly had a flash of inspiration. Combined with her memory of the plot, everything clicked into place. No wonder this scene had felt strangely familiar from the start.
She glanced around for any crows, then leaned closer to Xiao Lin and whispered, “Your Highness, I know exactly what you’re going to say. Congratulations to you and my eldest sister! I won’t intrude any further. Please give my regards to Bingshang. Farewell!”
And with that, she bolted from the courtyard like a fugitive.
If her memory of the story was right, this very conversation would act as a catalyst that deepened the darkness in Tan Jin’s heart.
Now that he had absorbed the Nightmare Demon, he had awakened the crow’s-eye telepathy ability—practically a spying artifact. Everywhere he looked, crows served as his surveillance. No word or action escaped him.
How terrifying! Yang Ruo patted her chest nervously, recalling what Xiao Lin would say next in the drama. He would warn Ye Xiwu that Tan Jin was an important political pawn in the contest between two nations and appeal to her with the logic of statecraft—urging her not to torment him too much, even if she disliked him.
Xiao Lin’s intentions were good. But what Tan Jin, eavesdropping through his crows, heard was only the surface meaning—or perhaps he simply could not bring himself to believe anyone would go through such roundabout trouble to treat him kindly. He always assumed the worst.
Publicly and privately, Xiao Lin had always held goodwill toward Tan Jin. Yet because of his prejudice against Ye Xiwu, he uttered those words. And that single remark led the little demon god to misunderstand—that Xiao Lin’s lifelong friendship and care for him were only born of political expediency. The simple, genuine bond between them became tainted, reduced to the currency of exchange.
To make matters worse, Li Susu, playing the role of Ye Xiwu, bluntly declared that she hated Tan Jin and wanted him dead. Good heavens! Yang Ruo’s heart had clenched watching that scene, frightened and pained on both their behalves. It was no different than badmouthing someone behind their back—only to be caught red-handed.
Li Susu had no idea that she had already succeeded in planting a fragile seed of trust and warmth in Tan Jin’s heart. Yet with that one cruel sentence, she shattered it entirely. His pain was unimaginable: he had just begun to believe, only to discover it was false—just his own delusion.
If a person can hate purely or love purely, it’s actually a kind of happiness. The real torment lies in being torn between both—swaying endlessly, never finding a clear answer.
And Li Susu was the only person in the world who made Tan Jin both love and hate. The hate was not pure, so he could not fully vent it in cruelty. The love was not pure, so he could not wholly enjoy its sweetness. His heart and mind were torn apart by two opposing forces. No wonder, in the end, he would spiral into extremity and madness.
But what Tan Jin lacked the most… was pure love.
In some ways, this little demon lord had an almost obsessive form of emotional cleanliness. He was naïve, idealistic—even childish. A heartless devil without seven emotions or six desires, yet he demanded from others a heart that was utterly pure, utterly good, without the slightest blemish.
But tell me—among humans, even among immortals—how many can truly give such love?
Tan Jin was far too greedy.
And when that greed couldn’t be satisfied, when what he sought could never be obtained… it was only natural that he would go astray.
The deadliest part? He didn’t even know how to love himself, yet he craved the love of others. That was why, later on, he loved Li Susu until he lost himself. He loved her until obsession drove him mad, until his devotion turned into a demon’s curse. And when their wedding day ended with six Soul-Destroying Nails nailed into his body, he thought even the last person who loved him in this world had abandoned him.
But he was wrong. This update is available on novｅlfire.net
Love isn’t something you seize from others—it has to grow from within. The greatest love in this world is the love you can give yourself.
Until he learned that lesson, anyone he loved would only be dragged into disaster. His disaster.
At this point in the plot summary, Yang Ruo could already smell the incoming angst. The tragic love story was about to kick off in full force. She had no idea what to do, so her only option was to dodge and muddle her way through, hoping her interference wouldn’t ruin the overall storyline.
And she almost forgot—this very conversation, coupled with Tan Jin obtaining the Nightmare Demon’s power, was what made him arrogant enough to stir trouble later. He actually planned a… well, let’s not call it a massacre, more like a farce, at Xiao Lin and Ye Bingshang’s wedding. After all, his little flock of crows couldn’t kill anyone yet.
The memory almost made her laugh. This guy really could hold a grudge. He even made a revenge list and was planning to take everyone down in one sweep while the whole crowd was gathered at the wedding. Of course, he ended up attracting suspicion from Prince Sheng, and before long, the royal family sent assassins after him.
…See? What did she say? If you don’t want people to know, don’t do it in the first place. And Tan Jin, barely swallowing one measly Nightmare Demon, was already so high on himself that he blew his own cover.
On the day of the wedding, he even carried a pen like some lunatic. She thought it was a congratulatory gift when she watched the drama… only to realize later that it was his “commander’s baton” for directing his crow revenge squad.
But the moment she remembered, her laughter froze.
Because at the very top of that revenge list—the first name written—was Ye Xiwu.
Yang Ruo collapsed in despair: I want to log out of this game…
Could she get a refund on transmigration?
…
Meanwhile, Tan Jin had already seen everything through his crows from inside the library.
This time, Ye Xiwu hadn’t said those cruel, heart-piercing words like she did in the previous life. He showed no surprise at all.
Leaning by the bright window, he lowered his head in thought. This woman didn’t seem as capable as before. She couldn’t draw talismans, and she wasn’t as domineering in how she treated him. Her whole style had become almost like that of Pang Yizhi from Xiaoyao Sect—aimless, careless, drifting through life without any clear goal. He couldn’t see through her depths, and that was exactly why he knew he must not underestimate her.
Well, thanks for the high opinion, Little Demon Lord.
But if you asked Yang Ruo herself? She was nothing more than a salted fish. Even if she flopped around out of desperation, at the end of the day, she was still just a salted fish.
From the bottom of her heart, she felt none of this had anything to do with her. If not for that faint thread of attachment she still had toward Tan Jin, she wouldn’t want to stay here at all.
Whatever trouble Tan Jin stirred up, he wouldn’t die anyway. So why should she stress? Better to take a break. She had been so wound up lately; her nerves were fraying.
With the resolve of a doomed woman, Yang Ruo went shopping in town like it was her last day on earth. She bought anything pretty or fun she could see, as if she’d never get the chance again.
Passing by a clothing shop, she suddenly remembered how the Li Susu version of Ye Xiwu had once bought clothes for Tan Jin in the original story. She couldn’t quite recall when it happened, but… since Li Susu had won herself a reprieve by doing it, why not imitate her? Her own little life was dangling by a thread—whether she liked it or not, she had to bow her head. If Li Susu did it, she’d do it too. Sigh.
Back at the mansion, she couldn’t wait to find Tan Jin, hoping to raise his favorability before he added her to his hit list.
“Tan Jin, look! I bought these clothes for you. Do you like them?” Yang Ruo held up a few carefully selected winter robes, displaying them before him.
Tan Jin’s expression didn’t soften one bit. His voice grew even colder. “Second Miss, what are you doing now? I don’t lack clothes.”
Indeed, the servants of the Ye household no longer dared to slight him. He was treated with the dignity of a true master, with garments prepared accordingly. He had no shortage of fine clothes.
Yang Ruo realized as much, but for the sake of her poor little life, she refused to give up the tried-and-true “Li Susu method.” She lifted the best-looking robe, intending to drape it over him.
—At this point, she was completely desperate. She couldn’t believe she’d get the same mercy Li Susu had, so she was throwing medicine at the wall to see what stuck.
What she hadn’t counted on was this: the Tan Jin before her wasn’t the same as in the past. This was Tan Jin, who had been reborn—Tan Jin, who had once been stabbed with six nails by Ye Xiwu. The kind of sugar-coated tricks that had once deceived him… only disgusted him now.
So when Yang Ruo tried to imitate Li Susu and gift him clothes, he not only failed to be moved—her action ripped open old wounds. His face grew even darker.
Tan Jin turned and left without another word.
Yang Ruo sat there in silence, reflecting by herself. The candlelight flickered, destined to burn out sooner or later—just like her fleeting little life.
If she had known, she would have followed Li Susu’s script from the very beginning.
She should have risked her life to enter the Nightmare Demon’s lair, gone into the dream realm with him, and grasped the blade with her bare hands for his sake.
Now look at her. She had failed to build enough favorability on the proper route, and her transmigration game was about to reach “Game Over.”
Being pecked to death by crows—or worse, having her face ruined—was absolutely not on her wish list. If it came down to that, she’d rather just drink poison and get it over with.
After the disgust Tan Jin had just shown her, there was no doubt—her name was going on that list.
The problem was… she really didn’t know what she’d done wrong. Since she arrived here, sure, she hadn’t exactly gone out of her way to fawn over him. She’d been following her whims, living like a salted fish tossed into the wrong pond. But she had never actually harmed him.
The thought sparked in her eyes. Wait—what if I just tell him the truth? That I’m not Ye Xiwu at all? Was that the one who bullied him before, the old Ye Xiwu? Wouldn’t he spare me if he knew?
But the very next second, cold dread followed. If she exposed herself, wouldn’t he just turn it into leverage? Or interrogate her until he pried out some detail that made him fear her even more? And then, out of that fear, decide she had to die?
…No. That road was a dead end.
She wasn’t exactly afraid of Tan Jin himself. No—what she feared was her own lack of ability.
The stronger he became, the smaller she felt. Not because of him, but because right now she was wearing Ye Xiwu’s face—the same woman who had wronged him, who stood as his enemy. Yet from her real perspective, from Yang Ruo’s own heart as someone who had witnessed Tan Jin’s entire tragic life in another timeline… she wasn’t afraid of him at all. She only wanted him to be well. She wanted him to be happy.
It was such a contradiction that it almost tore her in two.
If she could, she wanted nothing more than to lay her heart bare before him, to prove she had no intention of harming him. But how? How could she make him believe her? Time was running short. Before she could prove anything, she would probably die for the debts of Ye Xiwu’s past.
Yang Ruo felt tears sting her eyes. Her body was collapsing under the weight of injustice, but no tears would fall. It was beyond crying—utter despair.
…
Through the eyes of his crows, Tan Jin had seen every flicker of panic and hopelessness across her face. This was something he had never once witnessed since his rebirth.
In his previous life, Ye Xiwu had been unyielding, almost unbreakable. But just now… hadn’t he seen this woman’s eyes glisten with tears?
Tan Jin: “…”
What on earth was this woman playing at?
More and more, she no longer resembled the Ye Xiwu he remembered. Not from before, not from after.
With a sigh, he crushed the paper in his hand and reached for a new sheet. His quill scratched across the surface, rewriting the names of his revenge list.
The discarded balls of paper rolled across the floor, but every one of them bore the same start:
The first name written down—just like in the previous life—was still Ye Xiwu.