Now that everything had been laid out so plainly, the weight that had hovered over Zhao Changhe’s heart finally lifted. He tentatively reached out to embrace her.0

She did not resist. In fact, she even leaned her head naturally against his shoulder.0

Zhao Changhe could not help but exhale in relief.0

Ye Jiuyou heard it clearly and chuckled. “So, you think the dust has settled? That you’ve just accomplished some grand feat?”0

Zhao Changhe replied, “Haven’t I? Do you have any idea what kind of being you are? If this doesn’t count as a grand feat, then what does?”0

Ye Jiuyou laughed. “Piaomiao is not inferior to me, yet you weren’t like this with her.”0

“That’s because she was in Yangyang’s body, or at least something like that. It feels completely different. If I met the original, ancient Piaomiao directly, I’d probably feel the same as I do now. Besides, you’re way fiercer.”0

“Fiercer? When have I ever been fierce to you? Just say that it’s because I’m a villain, while Piaomiao’s a good being. If you went after her and something went wrong, at worst, she’d frown at you. As for me, I’d grind your bones and scatter your ashes into the wind.”0

She speaks with such menace, yet somehow it all sounds quite… adorable. Zhao Changhe could not help but laugh. With her still in his arms, they sat casually by the window, looking out at the blooming trees beyond.0

To sit with a woman in one’s arms, her head resting on his shoulder, chatting while admiring the flowers, it felt like romance in its purest form. Zhao Changhe reflected for a moment and realized that scenes like this had been rare in his life. Come to think of it, the only time he had properly pursued someone from start to finish… had been with Ye Jiuyou.0

It was surreal. The only woman he had ever courted properly turned out to be the greatest demon lord of this era, and perhaps the last.1

Even now, holding her in his arms, he could still feel the bone-deep chill of her body—the aura of a true villain. Yet, at the same time, she felt like a cool,...0