CHAPTER 650: ARE YOU SATISFIED?

"You better have a good reason," he murmured, voice low and teasing. "I have been waiting."

The bird blinked slowly, wings tucked in, as if to say: I missed you too.

"Come on in then," Little Bai said with a grin, waving the bird toward him.

The large Veyrasha bird, nearly half his height, flapped its wings excitedly and darted toward the paper window. Before it could squeeze through, Little Bai smacked its head with practiced precision.

"You dummy," he scolded, "you can’t fit through, remember? Last time you broke the window and the wall, and Master yelled at me for days. Use the door!"

He slid the window shut and padded across the room, his loose inner shirt swaying with each step. As soon as the door creaked open, the bird leapt in with a joyful squawk, tackling Little Bai to the floor in a flurry of feathers and laughter.

"You are just as enthusiastic as before," Little Bai chuckled, rubbing the bird’s head as it nuzzled under his chin affectionately.

"Okay, okay, that’s enough," he said, gently pushing it away. He stood and glanced toward the other side of the courtyard. It was still dark. It seemed the noise hadn’t woken anyone up. He closed the door softly behind him.

But when he turned around, his breath caught. A single drop of blood glistened on the floorboards.

His expression shifted instantly. He looked at the bird, now perched obediently on the table, its feathers ruffled but eyes calm.

"Who did you go fight with?" Little Bai whispered angrily, opening a cupboard filled with porcelain bottles and salves.

The bird lowered its head, silent.

Little Bai didn’t stop. He grabbed a bottle and marched over, muttering under his breath. "You reckless feathered idiot... I swear, one day you will be the death of me."

"I know it’s mating season," Little Bai said, crouching beside the table, his voice half-scolding, half-affectionate. "And I get it—it’s hard not to fight with other birds for girlfriends. But you are smarter than that."

Han Zhan, in the form of the Veyrasha bird, stared blankly. Girlfriends? His feathers fluffed in disbelief. He hadn’t left to chase skirts. He had left because his cousin was in danger. The moment he saw Xiang Yu arrive to rescue Han Xin, Han Zhan had flown off, heart heavy, wings burning, determined to find comfort in Little Bai’s arms. But now Little Bai thought he’d been off courting?

The bird’s head shook vigorously, rejecting the accusation.

"Don’t deny it," Little Bai said, kneeling beside him. "Spread your wings out."

Han Zhan obeyed, revealing the gash along his side. Little Bai grimaced. "Sss... The other bird better be dead."

Han Zhan lowered his head, thinking grimly, Soon enough. Uncle won’t tolerate that kind of disrespect.

Bai dipped his fingers into a porcelain jar and gently applied the ointment. "You can go look for female birds," he murmured, "but you should be careful, okay?"

Han Zhan: "..."

He wished he could shift back, show his true face, wrap Little Bai in his arms and say, There is no one I want but you.

"There," Little Bai said, patting the wing softly. "You’ll be good as new by morning."

The Veyrasha bird made a low, coquettish coo, eyes half-lidded.

Little Bai chuckled and reached out, fingers tickling under the bird’s chin. "Still a flirt, huh?"

Han Zhan leaned into the touch, heart aching with everything he couldn’t say.

Soon the lantern lights in the room dimmed one by one, until only the soft glow of moonlight filtered through the frosted paper windows. Little Bai lay down on his narrow bed, the chill of the mountain air softened by thick quilts and the quiet presence of the large Veyrasha bird perched at the headboard. Its feathers shimmered faintly, eyes alert, watching over him like a silent guardian.

Compared to Xiang Yu’s storm-tossed life, Little Bai’s path had been gentler but not without sorrow. His mother had fled the northern demon realm, escaping the clutches of the Demon King to save her unborn child.

She had seen the horrors he inflicted on his own offspring and chose death over submission. Alone in the mountains, she gave birth and died, her body curled protectively around the crying infant.

The baby, umbilical cord still attached, cried for two days before a wandering master of Ice Ridge stumbled upon the tragic scene. Moved by the sight, the master paid a family outside the sect to raise the child. Years later, when Little Bai came of age, the master returned and tested his spiritual veins. He sensed something buried deep. It was a demon core, faint and dormant, harmless unless awakened by blood cultivation.

But the master didn’t recoil. Instead, he saw potential. Little Bai had a gift for nurturing spiritual herbs, and so he was brought into the sect as a disciple.

Han Zhan, cloaked in feathers and silence, watched him now. He had waited so long for this moment. If not for his uncle’s command and the Divine Council’s scrutiny, he would have revealed himself already. He would have embraced Little Bai and whispered the truth. Soon, he promised himself. Soon, Little Bai would know who he truly was.

***

The small room was dimly lit, the lantern casting a soft amber glow that flickered against the cheap wooden walls. The furnishings were sparse, just a table, a stool, and a shelf with a few scrolls, but the bedding was a stark contrast: luxurious silk, smooth and cool against the skin.

Xiang Yu had pulled it from his interspatial storage, unable to bear the coarse fabric that had been irritating Han Xin’s body. With the twins’ notoriously picky habits, he’d long since learned to carry everything from silk sheets to rare spices. That was the price of being a dad.

Now, he lay with his head resting on Han Xin’s bare chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. Han Xin’s arms were wrapped around him, fingertips tracing slow, feather-light circles along Xiang Yu’s arm. Xiang Yu’s own hand curled around Han Xin’s torso, fingers brushing the faint runes etched into his skin each touch making Han Xin shiver.

"Are you satisfied?" Xiang Yu asked, voice low.