The Possessive Beauty Desires Me in Vain - Chapter 17

Chapter 17: No Longer Loving

Chen Hexuan looked at Qi Yu, unsure of how to respond.

Does he love him? If so, why would he discard the memories that ought to be cherished?

Does he not love him? Then why does this Inner Demon exist? Why does he feel sorrow when “Baby” is hurt, or feel self-loathing and grief knowing Baby would rather harm himself than others? Why is he so desperate to keep Baby from dying?

Even as Chen Hexuan’s Inner Demon, he couldn’t fathom what the version of himself that “didn’t love Baby” was actually thinking.

Qi Yu knew it was wrong to take his anger out on the demon. He forced a smile and said, “I’m sorry. I made you worry.”

Seeing that strained smile, Chen Hexuan pressed Qi Yu’s head against his chest and said, “Baby, if you don’t want to smile, then don’t. He doesn’t love you, but I do.”

Feeling the rise and fall of the demon’s chest, Qi Yu couldn’t help but laugh. He hugged Chen Hexuan’s sturdy waist tightly, thinking: If he doesn’t love me, then so be it. I don’t care anymore.

Remembering the gravity of the situation, Chen Hexuan lifted Qi Yu’s face and leaned in close, murmuring, “Baby, you must leave this place quickly. He wants to hurt you.”

“If I leave, what will happen to you?” Qi Yu looked into his tearful eyes, his heart softening. “Can you truly bear to let me go?”

Chen Hexuan looked conflicted. “Baby, I can’t bear it, but I don’t want to see you die again. You have to hide far away, somewhere he can’t find you.”

Qi Yu asked further, “Then won’t you miss me? What if I want to see you?”

Chen Hexuan replied gloomily, “I will come find you in the future. We can meet again then.”

“But if you find me, he finds me too,” Qi Yu pointed out.

Chen Hexuan held him even tighter. “Then… then I will never see Baby again.”

Qi Yu brushed the demon’s hair. “Really? If I run now, you might never see me for the rest of eternity. Can you truly stand that?”

Chen Hexuan remained silent, simply clinging to Qi Yu.

Qi Yu gave him a nudge. “Speak.”

“As long as Baby is safe,” Chen Hexuan whispered, “I can go my whole life without seeing you. I will try my best to control it.”

Qi Yu held him, feeling the utter absurdity of it all. The man he loved didn’t love him, yet that man’s Inner Demon was devoted to him. He didn’t know if this was a punishment or a reward.

Sometimes, Qi Yu felt he was pathologically obsessive. Every demon who had met him thought that, aside from his green eyes, he was nothing like a demon. Demons symbolized greed, yet he craved nothing—not beauty, power, fame, nor immortality. He seemed entirely devoid of desire.

But Qi Yu knew better. He was incredibly greedy; he was greedy for Chen Hexuan alone. He didn’t want anything else. But this one thing was too difficult—compared to power and wealth, everything else was easy.

If Chen Hexuan were an ordinary man, Qi Yu could have locked him in the Demon Palace forever. But Chen Hexuan was the eldest disciple of the Xingzhou Sect, the young master of the Donglin Chen family, a man destined to stand at the peak of the world and ascend to immortality. He was someone Qi Yu shouldn’t touch—someone who would never love him, someone he couldn’t obtain no matter what he sacrificed.

Years ago, when he looked into those deep eyes, he hadn’t realized that one glance would birth a lifelong greed. If he could do it over, he wouldn’t have looked so carelessly. He wouldn’t have lost his heart and drowned in an emotion that was never meant for him.

Chen Hexuan stared at Qi Yu intensely, trying to engrave him into his soul so that in the days without him, he would have something to hold onto.

Qi Yu’s lips curled up nonchalantly. “Senior Brother, let’s do it. There might not be a next time.”

Chen Hexuan hesitated. “No, I need to send you away. You can’t stay here.”

“I’ll leave right after we’re done,” Qi Yu nuzzled into his chest. “If you wait a bit longer to let him back out, I can get further away.”

Seeing him still wavering, Qi Yu grabbed the back of the demon’s neck and kissed him. “Senior Brother, hold me. I want you to love me.”

Facing such an assertive Qi Yu for the first time, Chen Hexuan felt shy, but when the beauty was offered up, he met him eagerly.

Qi Yu felt the warmth of Chen Hexuan’s body. He didn’t even know why he suddenly wanted this so badly. Perhaps he just wanted to be held tight—to fill the void in his heart with a physical embrace. There was a hole in his soul that grew larger with time, letting in a cold wind that constantly echoed: “He just doesn’t want to love you.”

…

Everything came to a close when Chen Hexuan’s eyes drifted shut.

“Baby, I truly love you so much.” Chen Hexuan whispered this into Qi Yu’s ear before Qi Yu knocked him unconscious. His heavy body slumped over Qi Yu.

Qi Yu pushed the large frame aside and gazed silently at his profile. He used to think he would never tire of this face, but now, seeing it brought no sweetness—only bitterness. Even the tightest embrace couldn’t fill the hole in his heart anymore.

Sensing Qi Yu’s unease, the unconscious Chen Hexuan shifted closer, instinctively pulling Qi Yu into his arms.

Qi Yu covered his chest, murmuring, “Senior Brother, you said you love me. You will love me… right?”

But he could no longer lie to himself.

In the past, there were times of great sorrow when he vowed to stop liking his Senior Brother. But the next time he saw that face, his heart would betray him, leaping in his chest and making him forget the coldness.

This time was different. After all these days, even looking at his face, Qi Yu’s non-existent heart still ached, twisting into a tight knot.

Before, he had firmly believed that his Senior Brother would eventually love him. That belief allowed him to return to Chen Hexuan’s side no matter how many times he was rejected. But now, he knew with absolute certainty that his Senior Brother wouldn’t even like him, let alone love him. His efforts were a joke; he was merely embarrassing himself.

Qi Yu curled up next to Chen Hexuan, not daring to hug him back, only gripping the man’s sleeve like a lifeline.

“Senior Brother, it hurts so much…”

“Please… love me a little…”

“Senior Brother, I don’t want to stop loving you…”

“I beg of you…”

The murmurs escaped his lips, but there was no one to answer. Finally, Qi Yu let go of the sleeve. A single tear traced its way down his cheek. He stared blankly into the void, one hand pressed against his chest.

“Is this what it feels like to stop loving?”

His heart was completely hollow. He truly had no heart left. He tried to force a smile, but he couldn’t, even though this was a state he had longed for during his most painful moments.

There were only two possible endings for him and his Senior Brother: either Chen Hexuan would say he loved him, or Qi Yu would stop loving him. He had only expected the second ending as a desperate wish during times of heartbreak; he never expected it to come true. Ironically, the ending he actually desired would never happen.

Qi Yu sat on the bed, his gaze slowly sliding over Chen Hexuan’s face. He used to feel a fluttering heart whenever he looked at him, but now, there was nothing. Looking back at the memories he once thought were sweet or bitter felt like looking through a thick fog.

Had I really… loved someone so passionately once?

Qi Yu’s finger traced Chen Hexuan’s forehead, brow, and nose, finally stopping at the curve of his lip. He leaned down and gave the lip a light, soft kiss. Then, he tucked Chen Hexuan in, got out of bed, and never looked back.

He walked out the door into the wind and snow, but he no longer felt the cold.

The Divine Messenger was sitting on the stone stool in the courtyard, a “told-you-so” look in his eyes. “So? No longer in love?”

Qi Yu sat opposite him. “Mm.” He picked up a cup of wine the Messenger had just warmed and drank it.

“Then the thing you promised me… will you still do it?” the Messenger asked with a smile, observing him.

Qi Yu rarely drank; the wine made his eyes turn red as he choked slightly. He smiled. “What I promised you, I will do.”

“You’ll still do it even if you don’t love him?” the Messenger asked with interest.

Qi Yu raised his cup toward the moon. “On the day of his capping ceremony, my blessing to him was ‘May you obtain all that you seek.’ That was my most sincere wish. Since he seeks the Great Dao, I will help him ascend to it.”

“Because that was once my wish too.”

“Aren’t you afraid? Even if the price is your soul being scattered ($hun fei po san$)?” the Messenger asked, his smile vanishing as he turned serious.

Qi Yu glanced at him. “Didn’t you ask me this at the very beginning? My answer hasn’t changed.”

The Messenger recalled that memory. A fragile, desperate young man who had just discovered his lover intended to kill him had forced a smile and said, “Okay.”

“But you don’t love him anymore,” the Messenger’s golden pupils filled with confusion. “The world is beautiful. You could go see it; you could meet so many other people. Did you… never plan on living at all?”

“Mm,” Qi Yu’s lips curled into a slow smile. “For me, living is just too hard.”

The Messenger looked puzzled. “Why?”

“Being abandoned over and over, doing meaningless things, fighting for things that don’t matter… in the end, it’s all empty,” Qi Yu sighed. “Look at me. I chased my Senior Brother for so many years and got nothing. Being human or being a demon—it’s all so tiring.”

Perhaps because he had finally laid down the burden in his heart, Qi Yu was talkative tonight. He said thoughtfully:

“I think I’d be fine just being a speck of dust. Living… is truly painful.”

…

The heartbreak is absolute. Qi Yu has reached the point of emotional exhaustion where he no longer loves, but he is still committed to the tragic plan he made when he did.