After rescuing the Village of Dolls from its terrifying fate—its people returned to their senses and the puppet master demon vanquished—the group did not linger long. The morning sun rose behind them as they stepped beyond the cursed village's borders, their cloaks catching the wind as they made their way toward their next destination. Word had reached them of another strange village hidden deep in the forest valley to the south—a place rumored to be peaceful, yet oddly without men. And so, with the scent of mist and lingering spells behind them, the group departed toward a new mystery.
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The sun began to set behind the mountain pass as the group reached the outskirts of a small village nestled in a secluded valley. It was strangely quiet. No children's laughter, no hammering from blacksmiths, no drunken bickering from old men. Instead, flower petals drifted lazily through the air, and the streets were lined with well-maintained homes that looked... too perfect.
Longxuan narrowed his eyes. "No men."
Zhenhai frowned. "This isn't right."
Fenglan scratched his head. "It's kinda weird. Where are all the husbands?"
Fenglie stepped forward, placing a hand on the hilt of his blade. "Stay alert."
Mo Tianzun said nothing, but his brows furrowed. There was an unnatural sweetness in the air—like perfume, thick enough to cling to skin. And beneath it, something else... a faint demonic Qi.
As they ventured deeper, beautiful young women emerged from their homes, smiling coyly at the group. Their skin was flawless, their eyes like warm honey. One of them offered Longxuan a flower. Another winked at Fenglie. A third walked up to Mo Tianzun and gently brushed her fingers against his sleeve.
He stiffened.
Longxuan's eyes flashed dangerously. "Don't touch him."
The woman gave a delicate pout, but withdrew.
They were invited to stay in the village's largest guesthouse, a place filled with silken curtains, soft lighting, and the overwhelming scent of lotus incense.
That night, over dinner, the villagers poured wine for them and offered dances. But Zhenhai and Fenglan, both growing more red-faced by the second, suddenly stood up and ran out of the room.
"Wh-What's happening to me!?" Fenglan shouted from the courtyard.
"The wine's drugged," Tianzun said calmly.
Zhenhai wiped his lips and looked at his cup in disgust. "A spell. Lust-inducing demon magic. Subtle but powerful."
Tianzun's hands were trembling. He hadn't even touched the wine—but the moment the demoness brushed against him earlier, her Qi had sunk into his body like oil to a flame. He rose abruptly and stumbled toward the private quarters. Longxuan, sensing something was wrong, followed immediately.
The moon hung low over the rooftops of the village, casting silver light on winding paths paved with ancient stone. Crimson lanterns swung gently in the night breeze, their glow soft and warm—yet beneath their beauty, a subtle aura of enchantment pulsed through the air like a heartbeat.
Mo Tianzun leaned against the wooden railing outside a small room of some villagers house, his breathing uneven. His fingers curled tightly around the wine cup, but the liquid inside had long since gone untouched. His entire body was burning. Not with fever. Not with illness.
With desire.
It was the demon's doing. The soft-spoken girl in white robes who had welcomed them into the village with too-sweet tea and too-kind eyes. A low-level love demon—gentle on the surface, but her power laced into every corner of this place. The food, the water, the very scent of the wind—it stirred longing, arousal, memories of touches and warmth once lost.
Mo Tianzun's disguise had slipped, his qi weakened by the suppression pendant he wore. Now the haze invaded his thoughts, turning each breath into a desperate ache.
The door opened behind him.
"Xuanji?" Longxuan's voice was soft.
Mo Tianzun flinched slightly. "Don't… call me that," he said, voice strained. "That name is gone. There is only Mo Tianzun."
But Longxuan was already beside him, gazing at him with worry that melted quickly into understanding. His hand rose, brushing aside the sweat-damp strands of hair from Tianzun's forehead.
"You're affected," Longxuan murmured. "She used something—"
"I know," Tianzun snapped. But his voice cracked, and the edge of defiance fell away. "I can handle it—"
"Then why are your hands trembling?" Longxuan said gently.
Mo Tianzun's knees buckled.
Longxuan caught him easily.
Everything became a blur. He wasn't sure when they stumbled back into the room, or when his head hit the pillow. The only things that remained sharp were the heat writhing beneath his skin—and the cool touch of Longxuan's hands as he pressed a wet cloth to his chest.
"Please," Tianzun whispered, breath hitching. "It's burning… inside. I can't—I can't calm my spirit. It won't go away…"
Longxuan's fingers cupped his cheek. "Let me help you," he whispered. "I'm here."
Mo Tianzun's eyes fluttered closed. He turned toward the warmth, lips brushing against Longxuan's palm. "It hurts… it hurts so much. My stomach—it's hot. All of me is hot."
"I know," Longxuan said softly, lowering himself beside him. "I'll take care of you. Just like you once protected me."
He leaned down and kissed him.
A soft, lingering kiss at first—nothing rushed, nothing harsh. Their lips met like lovers returning after a thousand years apart. Mo Tianzun whimpered against his mouth, his fingers twisting into Longxuan's robe, dragging him closer with desperate need.
Longxuan obeyed.
Clothing slipped away in silence, like petals falling from a flower. Skin met skin. Their bodies found each other again, familiar in the way only true lovers could be—like the threads of fate had simply waited for this moment to be tied once more.
There was nothing rushed. Nothing crude. Only fire and reverence.
Mo Tianzun's voice, usually so steady, broke again and again with whispered pleas.
"Faster…" he begged in the crook of Longxuan's neck. "Longxuan… please… I need—"
Longxuan answered without words, moving with care, with love, with a passion that was never meant to be witnessed.
Outside the window, petals danced on the wind.
Inside, two souls became one again—not just from desire, but from twenty years of longing, mourning, and waiting.
And when it was over, Mo Tianzun lay with his head resting on Longxuan's chest, his cheeks damp, but his body finally at peace.
Longxuan kissed the top of his head.
"You should rest for now"
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By dawn, the spell over the village was broken. Mo Tianzun stood outside, watching the morning mist.
"It was a love demon," he said. "Feeding off men's desire, luring them away and draining their life essence."
The Liu Twins stood nearby, blinking awkwardly.
"We didn't do anything!" Fenglan shouted. "I swear I just saw one kiss me and—BAM! I jumped into the lake myself."
Zhenhai sighed. "We should've known the moment there were flowers everywhere."
Jiang Fenglie nodded grimly. "This wasn't a coincidence. This demon was sent."
Tianzun's eyes narrowed.
Longxuan stepped beside him. "You think this is connected to Liu Shengjie."
Tianzun didn't answer right away. But in his heart, he already knew. Every appearance of these creatures, every unnatural mist, every manipulated desire... it was all part of a larger hand at play.
He glanced at Longxuan.
"Let's keep moving. This isn't the end."
Together, they left the village behind, the laughter of broken illusions echoing in the distance.