SOL Chapter 10

Water Deep, Mud Turbid (Part Two)

In Tian Chang’s eyes, Li Shan—as a rival—had once been dazzling and dangerous, keeping him on edge day and night, unable to tell whether his heart was stirred or terrified. But once Li Shan had become nothing more than a defeated subordinate—a being no longer posing any threat—Tian Chang’s interest in him naturally waned. With the greatest obstacle prophesied already removed, Tian Chang shifted his energy to devising plans to conquer the mortal world.

As for Li Shan, Tian Chang merely locked him away like a trophy in his own sleeping chamber within the Qianxun Tower, occasionally “using” him as though he were one of his favored concubines. As Li Huai Su had once remarked, the demonic clan found it exceedingly difficult to reproduce. Tian Chang’s alteration of Li Shan’s body was nothing more than a cruel jest to see how he would react—the talk of his pregnancy was said merely in jest.

Yet when Li Shan eventually awoke and learned of it all, he said nothing. He lay as motionless as a pool of stagnant water—not out of gentle submission but rather exhibiting a silent, subtle defiance that Tian Chang found disappointingly uninteresting. Still, in the bedchamber Li Shan did offer the slightest hint of resistance; though to Tian Chang it appeared more like playful bed-time amusement, a diversion he quite enjoyed.

After discussing matters with Li Huai Su and Shi En, Tian Chang returned to the Qianxun Tower. Finding his sleeping chamber cloaked in darkness, he raised his hand and lit the floor-standing candle by the bed. Fresh from the battlefield in his black battle armor—with frost yet clinging to him—his attire finally revealed the unmistakable aura of the Demon World’s ruler.

Li Shan lay quietly on the bed, his back turned outward, draped in Tian Chang’s garments. A silver chain extended from the head of the bed, disappearing into the intricate layers of his black robe. The area Tian Chang permitted him to move in was limited to the small space behind the curtain; even taking two steps proved a struggle. At that moment, Li Shan’s quietude seemed tinged with a hint of reluctant compliance.

Tian Chang sat at the bedside and leaned in to kiss the black hair at Li Shan’s temple. His hand slipped through the half-open collar, yet Li Shan remained silent, allowing Tian Chang to do as he wished. Noticing something amiss, Tian Chang grasped Li Shan’s chin and twisted his face—perhaps due to his body’s maladaptation, for Li Shan had lost much weight lately and his complexion was pale, his eyes closed and brows furrowed. Tian Chang called his name twice, but received no response.

Li Shan—the Golden-Eyed, former Number One of Cui Wei Sword Pavilion, that dazzling young sword cultivator and Tian Chang’s lifelong foe—was, stripped of all these titles, merely a man.

Tian Chang had never before cared for a mortal in his realm; unacquainted with how to treat human ailments, he had no choice but to summon his clan’s great shaman. The usually taciturn shaman, after examining Li Shan’s condition, suddenly sprang to his feet, and Tian Chang could almost detect a trace of delight on that impassive, almost bone-like head. Then came a stream of prayers, blessings, and praises—the great shaman announced: “Li Shan is pregnant.”

It was no wonder he was so overjoyed. The demonic clan had great difficulty reproducing; forced offspring were often, like Garuda, senseless creatures driven only to slaughter—hardly maturing properly, their generations overlapping and leading to the current state of decline. Tian Chang listened blankly to the shaman’s words, almost unable to process them. He had once roamed the mortal realm and witnessed mortal men’s elation at news of a wife’s pregnancy. Though he’d never understood such sentiments—given the demonic clan’s scant familial bonds—the news of Li Shan’s pregnancy stirred in him a novel, empathetic feeling.

However, Li Shan was ultimately flesh and blood—a mortal. Though he had practiced cultivation, demonic seed is inherently at odds with humanity. Now, having been forced into pregnancy, his body struggled to bear the burden. After dismissing the great shaman, Tian Chang fed some of his own blood to Li Shan, thereby linking his bloodline to the child in Li Shan’s womb—a measure intended to soothe the restless demonic seed.

When Li Shan slowly awoke, he felt someone tightly embracing him, the person’s head resting against his chest. For a moment he was utterly disoriented—after all, Tian Chang had always been brutal, and such tender moments in the bedchamber were unprecedented. When things turned unusual, one always suspected mischief. Though Li Shan couldn’t fathom what was happening, he instinctively tried to push the other away. Yet his arms were weak, and he only managed to place his hand on Tian Chang’s hair. Sensing something from this gesture, Tian Chang lifted his head, misinterpreting the push as almost coquettish, and affectionately rubbed his cheek against Li Shan’s hand.

A chill ran down Li Shan’s spine as he saw Tian Chang slowly rise and look at him with extreme tenderness:

  “You are pregnant. You carry my child.”

For a moment, Li Shan’s ears rang—as though those words had been jumbled upon entry, leaving him utterly unable to comprehend. He stared into Tian Chang’s eyes and saw his own reflection—a haggard, pitiable little wretch, or perhaps like a porcelain vase with a narrow neck and a swollen belly, inside of which writhed a mass of disordered remains.

Seeing Li Shan’s vacant expression, Tian Chang gave his arm a shove—as if he were an innocent child—and repeated what he considered good news. With a smile, he said, “Rest easy and nurture the baby; I will treat you well from now on—I won’t bully you anymore.”

Though the demonic clan was generally indifferent to their offspring, they took great care of the mothers. Compared to the unappealing little monsters, the mother’s womb—united with the father’s—evoked a reassuring intimacy. Still, Tian Chang did not feel any genuine affection for the pitiful Li Shan, now reduced to a prisoner.

Tian Chang had once secretly infiltrated a grand assembly in the realm of cultivation to witness the prophesied Golden-Eyed Li Shan—watching him unleash a stunning sword strike in the arena was truly magnificent, like a dazzling sunrise whose brilliance scorched the eyes if looked upon directly, demanding only devout admiration. Yet in this world, no sun ever shone without setting. Now, Li Shan was nothing more than a faded piece of silk, unremarkable and even reeking of mustiness—but Tian Chang chose to follow the natural instinct passed down from the Demon Ancestor, taking care of the mother of that little monster.

Gathering his thoughts out of his stupor, Li Shan suddenly felt a surge of horror welling up from the back of his throat. The demonic clan found it exceedingly difficult to bear offspring; yet once born, such children became a scourge upon the mortal world—beings who inherited the full power of both parents and, even in their ungoverned infancy, possessed the strength to annihilate worlds. Moreover, many among the demonic clan never attained the rationality of Tian Chang, not even capable of feigning a human guise.

Suddenly, Li Shan spoke up, breaking through Tian Chang’s chilling gentle words:

  “I want to see Li Huai Su.”

Tian Chang’s face froze. He looked at Li Shan in bafflement and asked, “You want to see Li Huai Su?”

A complex, hard-to-describe emotion welled within Tian Chang—one he eventually dismissed as nothing more than the envy often depicted in old tales. Thus, he responded in the manner typical of a mortal man experiencing jealousy:

  “Bringing up another man in front of a man is hardly pleasant. What do you want him for?”

The burden of the demonic seed within was immense, and Li Shan’s spirit was so weakened that he could no longer continue the conversation. Seeing this, and unwilling to indulge in further childish displays of jealousy, Tian Chang blew out the lamp, scooped Li Shan into his arms, and gently stroked his small abdomen to comfort him. It wasn’t long before Li Shan slipped into a deep sleep.

Li Huai Su had been dispatched by Tian Chang to the mortal world—and only returned three months later. When he left, the willows were swaying gently; by the time of his return, it was already midsummer. Upon meeting him, Tian Chang had originally wanted to say, “Li Shan is carrying my child,” but that sounded too provocative and counterproductive to harmony. Choosing his words carefully, he instead said, “You’re going to be an uncle.”

Li Huai Su was clearly stunned for a long moment—a fact that made Tian Chang feel rather triumphant. Yet Li Huai Su soon composed himself and asked coolly, “Why are you telling me this?”

Tian Chang replied, “He isn’t feeling well in his condition; he wishes to see you.”

Li Huai Su sneered, “What use is it for him to seek me? I’m not a doctor—haven’t all your clan’s healers perished?”

With confidence, Tian Chang retorted, “He’s in a foul mood—gloomy when awake, restless even in sleep—and he treats the child poorly. I figured that in the Demon World, you’re the only one he’s familiar with, so I had no choice but to seek you out.”

Utterly baffled yet well aware of the demon lord’s temper—who, when displeased, could behave like a petulant child throwing a tantrum—Li Huai Su decided not to tangle further and accompanied Tian Chang to Li Shan’s place.

The moment Li Huai Su stepped into the Qianxun Tower, he caught the scent of sandalwood. Near Tian Chang’s sleeping chamber, the fragrance was even stronger. Frowning, he said, “I had no idea when you changed your nature.”

Tian Chang immediately replied as if trying to cover for himself, “I asked Shi En—she said sandalwood calms the spirit…” He then elaborated on the wondrous effects of sandalwood as told by Shi En, but Li Huai Su was too disinterested to listen. Instead, he strode over to the bed and, without a word, lifted the curtain.

Tian Chang unfastened the silver chain from Li Shan—of little use now that he was bound. Ever since his pregnancy began, Li Shan mostly slept; even when awake, he had scarcely enough strength to move, let alone run or even rise from bed. At that moment, Li Shan, barely lucid, curled up with his knees drawn to his chest, huddled in the far corner at the foot of the bed—a tiny bundle tossing fitfully as if tormented by nightmares.

Without further ado, Li Huai Su scooped him up. Though he knew Li Shan’s life with Tian Chang must be harsh, when Li Huai Su cradled him he couldn’t help but pause in astonishment—he was too thin, too light. The summer garments were so light that when Li Huai Su touched him, all he felt were the bony protrusions along Li Shan’s spine.

Having suffered from a lack of food and clothing since childhood, Li Shan’s fortunes improved somewhat when he began following Li Huai Su. He grew like wild grass, sprouting swiftly at the slightest breeze, yet his frame remained smaller than his peers’, appearing frail and delicate. Li Huai Su had tried to give him extra meals before—Li Shan would finish every bite yet never seem to gain even a bit of flesh. Even after entering the Cui Wei Sword Pavilion to train, he failed to develop the pronounced muscles typical of a martial artist; his abdomen remained a mere thin layer, no longer graceful yet still meager. Though only three months into pregnancy, his lower abdomen had already swollen uncomfortably high, its shape bizarre—as if Li Huai Su could see the demonic seed writhing continuously beneath.

Sitting by the bedside, Li Huai Su restrained the restless Li Shan at his side and cast a silent glance at Tian Chang. Tian Chang, aware that he had not taken proper care of Li Shan, felt a pang of guilt when met by a reproachful look from Li Huai Su. “After all,” he admitted, “he is merely flesh and blood—his constitution is incompatible with the demons. For now, the only plan is to let him recuperate and give birth to the child.” Moreover, this demonic fetus was bound to the mother in a symbiotic manner; even if forcibly removed, Li Shan’s life might be imperiled.

Li Huai Su frowned deeply at this, but seeing Li Shan sleep so restlessly in such a pitiful state, he felt a twinge of compassion. Taking a deep breath, he lifted Li Shan’s head and rested it on his knee like a pillow, gently patting his slender back. He recalled the lullabies his mother once sang to him as a child and, lowering his gaze, began to hum softly. As if moved by this, Li Shan gradually ceased struggling and, head nestled on Li Huai Su’s knee, fell into quiet sleep.

Standing aside with his arms crossed, Tian Chang watched with widened eyes as Li Huai Su successfully soothed Li Shan to sleep. Yet the intimacy between the two Li’s—so close that it seemed no outsider could intrude—prompted Tian Chang at last to remark, “Young Master Li, you are truly extraordinary; you’ve even mastered the art of lulling a child to sleep with such finesse.”

Li Huai Su shot Tian Chang an impatient glare and raised his hand in a shushing gesture. Realizing his presence was unwelcome—and not wanting to disturb Li Shan’s hard-won sleep—Tian Chang fell silent, mouthing resentfully, “Fine, I’ll be off then.”

Soon, the room was left with only Li Huai Su and Li Shan. Gazing at the man sleeping on his knee, at that very Li Shan, a strange and complex emotion churned within Li Huai Su, as though a fiery anguish burned inside him. He could almost hear a faint voice whisper, “Is this really what you want? The man you once envied so deeply—once the dazzling pride of the heavens—has now become something neither fully human nor ghostly. Does that bring you any satisfaction? Perhaps you’d be happier if he were dead.”

Later in the night, Li Shan regained consciousness. Tormented by the demonic seed in his belly, he had been in a constant, dreamlike slumber, yet now he was unusually alert. He turned his face slightly and saw the dim candlelight cast upon Li Huai Su’s handsome profile—softening even the cold luster of his features. Though Li Huai Su had closed his eyes for a brief rest, his hand continued to gently pat Li Shan’s back in soothing rhythm.

In silence, Li Shan raised his hand; his fingertips reached for the hilt of the Enraged Sea Rising Tide sword that Li Huai Su wore at his waist. The very moment he gripped its hilt and drew the sword, a surge of furious sword qi radiated through his hand. Overwhelmed by a torrent of anger, bewilderment, and resentment, Li Shan hesitated only for an instant before twisting his wrist and resolutely thrusting the sword toward his own swollen belly.

The sudden sound of the sword being drawn startled Li Huai Su. But before he could intervene, a burst of demonic qi thundered from outside the room, racing straight toward Li Shan. In a flash, Li Shan felt an excruciating pain shoot through the bones of his right wrist, and his arm twisted and contorted in a most unnatural manner as if broken. The Enraged Sea Rising Tide clattered to the ground with a sharp, ringing sound.