Chapter 199
In Jian Yunlan’s livestream room, the upper-right corner displayed the current viewer count:
[1,798,866,520 viewers]
That number had almost doubled in a short time.
And this was just the count from the main Multiverse Realm—it didn’t even include the smaller sub-realms. But in every world Jian Yunlan had traversed since entering the book, each one had its own massive audience tuned in, watching his broadcast in real time.
Across the Multiverse Realm, nearly one out of every three residents was watching Jian Yunlan’s livestream. This kind of viewership was unprecedented—it even made headlines on the official Multiverse News Network.
Although the Multiverse was now safe and no longer at risk of dimensional erosion, people still didn’t leave the stream.
After all, most of them had discovered the stream during those dark days of interdimensional chaos—and once they entered, they never left.
Everyone wanted to see if there was anything they could do to help.
…And if, when it was all over, they could maybe get a taste of Boss Jian’s snacks, that alone would make them grin in their sleep. Hehe.
So when Jian Yunlan overcame countless trials and finally arrived at the Oblivion Terrace, all viewers held their collective breath:
[Finally, finally!]
[Been following for so long—are we really at the finale now? So nervous!!!]
[Aaaaahhh so many allies came from so many worlds to help Lanlan—everyone’s such good beans QAQ]
[Baby Ning will always be our Baby Ning (Heart emoji)]
[What’s going on with your muscles, Yu Ming…? Who else remembers when he was the delicate little protagonist uke…? I’m spitting blood]
[Ye Qingquan and Lele, I’m crying!!! Our little orphan Jian finally has a father and brothers (Crying emoji)]
[The post-apocalyptic realm is thriving again! The rebuilt communities are so beautiful]
[Why is the Heavenly Dao so evil? Why does it keep targeting Boss Jian and Lord Taotie? What’s the point of all this? They even sent so many guards, the entire Underworld squad is here—they clearly want him dead! Thank goodness Niu Tou stepped in]
[Hehe, Little Jian said he’ll keep running his snack stall until everyone’s had a taste—I can’t wait =w= He’ll need at least a decade! I’ll line up forever! You’ll never get off work again, Boss Jian!]
[That’s criminally cute]
[We can worry about the rest later—aaaaahhhh Little Jian and Lord Taotie are finally about to reunite!!!!]
[I’m so worried… they said the Heavenly Dao wants to execute Lord Taotie. Judging by the timeline, it’s probably already begun. Please let him be okay!!!]
[Worried +1]
[Little Lan will make it in time. We have to believe in him!]
*
Shanhai Realm, Oblivion Terrace.
Amidst countless pillars of swirling light, a massive, monstrous beast stood at the center.
—This beast bore traits of a dragon, tiger, and ox. Its thick scales shimmered in hues of crimson and jade, as if soaked in blood. Just like the first time Jian Yunlan had seen him.
The light pillars spiraled and wrapped around the beast, appearing soft and harmless. But with every rotation, the beams sliced through Taotie’s scales and flesh like razor-sharp blades.
Many of Taotie’s scales had already been stripped away by the light, revealing the battered, darkened bones and muscles underneath. Dark red, almost black blood gushed from his wounds like a fountain, spreading and pooling—flowing all the way to Jian Yunlan’s feet.
The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood.
Taotie didn’t struggle. He didn’t roar. He simply stood there, silent, eyes closed—like a statue.
Accepting death willingly.
A faint, amused voice of the Heavenly Dao echoed from nowhere and everywhere:
“Oh my, oh my… the mighty Lord Taotie, famed across the realms, truly such a romantic… Are you really willing to give up all your cultivation and divine soul, just so that mortal of yours can live a long and peaceful life? There’s still time to regret it, you know…”
Taotie didn’t answer.
The fierce beast stood quietly, lids lowered, as though waiting for someone… or perhaps caught in a peaceful dream. Even his breathing was barely audible.
“…”
Jian Yunlan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
He had never been someone who felt much. No close family. No real friends. Wherever he went, he was always alone.
Then Taotie arrived. His arrival was like a butterfly flapping its wings—and from that moment on, Jian Yunlan’s world was transformed. It became brighter. Warmer. Fuller of laughter. With Hu Danggui, with Niu Tou… the once-empty Jian family villa grew lively and filled with noise.
For the first time, Jian Yunlan had something he could call a “home.”
It had all come too suddenly, too naturally. So much so that he had never once imagined what would happen if it all disappeared.
…What would happen if Taotie disappeared?
Fear.
The first emotion that surged in Jian Yunlan’s chest wasn’t grief. It wasn’t even anger.
It was fear.
Fear of losing everything.
Fear of losing the warmth, the laughter, the busy days of selling food together.
Fear of losing their home.
But above all…
Fear of losing Taotie.
Watching Taotie willingly walk toward death, Jian Yunlan’s heart clenched. His breath caught in his throat. The fear of losing Taotie coiled around him like cold, wet thorns—creeping up to his neck, becoming clearer, sharper, more real with every heartbeat.
In that moment, all sound seemed to vanish. A high-pitched ringing filled his ears, like a siren in the distance. And in his vision, there was only that blood-drenched figure.
What were those beams? Embodiments of the Heavenly Dao’s will?
There was no time to think.
Jian Yunlan ran.
His steps were unsteady, but he ran faster than he ever had in his life. The cold wind stung his throat as he gasped for air.
The blades of light that tore through Taotie so mercilessly, however, passed through Jian Yunlan like a breeze—leaving him completely unharmed as he reached Taotie’s side.
“Lord Taotie!” Jian Yunlan stopped beside the towering beast, panting hard. He reached out and gently touched one of the few remaining intact scales. Tilting his head up, he called, “I… I’ve come for you. I’m sorry I was late…”
But then his voice caught in his throat.
Standing this close, he could see clearly now.
The crisscrossing wounds, the jagged scars on Taotie’s body—none of them had even begun to heal. New injuries overlapped the old, and the dried blood had turned black and charred.
Jian Yunlan’s eyes instantly reddened. He couldn’t speak at all.
His voice was small, his presence even smaller—like an ant whispering to a whale. Compared to the massive Taotie, he was barely a speck.
Taotie shouldn’t have been able to hear him.
And yet, despite all the pain and injuries that hadn’t drawn a single reaction—Taotie moved.
The great beast’s eyelids trembled. Slowly… he opened his eyes.
Under the gray skies—
His dark golden pupils were cloudy with death. Even his irises had begun to lose focus. But the moment they landed on Jian Yunlan, they gradually sharpened. A faint light returned to them.
From deep within his chest, Taotie forced out a breath, coughed heavily twice, and muttered something: “!?@#&*??+”
Jian Yunlan: “?”
It was a low murmur—words Jian Yunlan couldn’t quite make out.
It sounded like an ancient chant… an old spell.
For the first time in his life, Jian Yunlan hated the limits of his own knowledge. He couldn’t understand what Taotie was saying.
And what if…
What if those were Taotie’s last words to him?
His eyes turned even redder. He racked his brain, trying to decipher the meaning. His face went blank—confused, devastated, panicked, lost. Tears streamed down his cheeks.
Taotie: “…”
Even though he was utterly exhausted, seeing Jian Yunlan like this, the great beast seemed flustered, like a child unsure how to comfort someone.
The next second…
The light shimmered, and Taotie transformed into his human form.
Jian Yunlan froze, staring blankly at the man before him.
Just like his beast form, the human Taotie was covered in cuts and bloodstains. His ancient battle robes were torn to shreds, his ox-bone shoulder guard cracked wide open.
His silver hair was loose, the ends soaked with blackened blood. Eyes downcast, he looked at Jian Yunlan with those dim, dark-gold irises.
…He looked at him for a long time, as if trying to memorize every detail. As if, no matter how his body might be torn apart or turned to ash, he would never forget him.
A few rays of light pierced through the gray clouds, casting the world in warm amber. A breeze began to stir.
Suddenly—
Taotie reached out and gently touched Jian Yunlan’s face, wiping away his tears.
For the first time, Jian Yunlan saw that expression on Taotie’s face.
Taotie had always been proud. Arrogant. Stubborn. The great demon king who did as he pleased.
But now—he smiled gently, softly. It didn’t even feel like the same person.
Looking at Jian Yunlan, Taotie smiled.
“They say all living creatures see the one they most wish to see before they die,” Taotie murmured. “Looks like I really am dying this time.”
He looked at Jian Yunlan, eyes gleaming.
“Did you… come to send me off?”
He said softly, “So good… So, so good.”
Taotie lowered his head, gazing intently at Jian Yunlan’s face. He leaned in close—so close their breaths mingled. Jian Yunlan caught the scent of iron-like blood on him… and a trace of sandalwood.
“So good,” Taotie murmured again, a silly smile tugging at his lips as he took in Jian Yunlan’s scent with something close to reverence.
His warm breath brushed across Jian Yunlan’s cheek.
Suddenly, Jian Yunlan grasped his hand in return.
He used some strength—gripping tightly, so tight that his knuckles turned white, as if afraid that Taotie would slip away.
“Taotie, I came a long way… I kept running… So many people helped me… I kept thinking, I need to get to you faster…” Jian Yunlan spoke quickly, his words tumbling over each other in a rush of breathless urgency.
But the way he looked at Taotie—so steady, so sure—there wasn’t the slightest hesitation in his eyes.
Jian Yunlan took a deep breath to steady himself, though his heart was still pounding so loudly he could hear it in his ears.
Then he said:
“I wanted to get to you quickly… so I could tell you—”
Jian Yunlan’s lips moved.
Ba-dump, ba-dump.
Taotie’s pupils reflected the movement of Jian Yunlan’s mouth. His heartbeat stuttered, skipping several beats. For a moment, he didn’t even register what was said.
The sunlight fully broke through the clouds, casting golden rays in all directions. White doves took flight into the sky.
It was twilight in the human world. In the distance, the lights of thousands of homes flickered to life. An orange-red sun was slowly sinking below the horizon. From the soft buzz of cicadas to the rumble of passing carriages—Taotie could no longer hear any of it.
Even the pain that had wracked his body just moments ago was now gone, carried away by a breeze from somewhere far away. It no longer tormented him.
In its place was an unfamiliar itch in his chest—like a kitten pawing gently at his heart. Full. Aching. A little sore.
In that second, the world fell utterly silent.
Time stretched.
In that second, looking at Jian Yunlan, Taotie suddenly recalled countless seemingly trivial memories.
From dawn to dusk. Spring, summer, autumn, winter.
Jian Yunlan cooking with intense focus.
Jian Yunlan out at his stall, selling food.
Jian Yunlan greeting customers with his bright smile.
And even from long before that—so many versions of Jian Yunlan: always full of life, pouring his whole self into everything, nothing and no one ever able to hold him back.
It was a little ridiculous, but there had been a time… when Taotie was jealous.
Jealous of Jian Yunlan’s food stall.
Jealous of the way Jian Yunlan looked at it—with such devotion, such passion.
So jealous.
So envious.
But today—that gaze was on him.
Jian Yunlan looked at him like that—and said…
What had he said again?
Taotie’s thoughts were slow, sluggish.
“…”
Finally, the stagnant air stirred again, flowing gently.
And with that breath of air, Jian Yunlan’s words finally drifted into Taotie’s ears.
And in the roar of his heartbeat, Taotie finally, finally heard what Jian Yunlan had said—
“Lord Taotie…I like you.”
