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Published at 31st of March 2023 06:38:54 AM


Chapter 159

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For All These Years, I'm Sorry

While saying that he didn't like it, he still took the candied gourd from Xuan Long's hand.

"If you don't like it, don't force yourself, I'll make dumplings for you to eat." Xuan Long said and sluggishly turned towards the stove.

He had been living here for a hundred thousand years, but the stove had not been opened very often. Gods did not need to eat every day, they could maintain their spiritual power by absorbing the essence of the sun and moon once a month.

Most of the gods who have ascended from mortals are used to eating three meals a day on time, and have kept up their habit. There are also many gods who were born as gods who, because of the boredom and dullness of their long lives as gods, have followed the example of mortals and eat three meals a day.

The reason why Xuan Long built this stove was because he thought that his home needed to be warmed by smoke and fire. But when he was alone, he felt lonely when the hot smoke wafted through the house.

He was not very good at cooking, except for chicken soup, which he was very good at because he had practised it a million times.

Before he fell into the mortal world, he and Yan Yuan once went wandering in the mortal world. When they were tired of wandering, they stopped at a stall on the roadside and each of them asked for a bowl of chicken soup with dumplings. As a result, Yan Yuan fell in love with it as soon as he ate it.

They had just got married, and as the Emperor of Heaven, Yan Yuan was inevitably tied up with government affairs, so it was impossible for him to come down to the mortal world just to eat a bowl of chicken soup.

When Xuan Long had the time, he went to the mortal world to find the owner of the stall, spent some money to buy the recipe for the chicken soup, practised it over and over again, and on Yan Yuan's birthday, he personally made a bowl of it and brought it to him.

Xuan Long was not really talented in cooking, and although he tried very hard, the taste of the food he made was always inferior to that of the stall owner, but Yan Yuan was very happy. Since then, he pestered him from time to time, asking him to make him a bowl of dumplings to eat, and he did not even think about going to the mortal world.

Xuan Long lived here, and when there were no evil spirits to be removed from the outside world, the house was cleaned inside and out, the irises in the courtyard were watered, and when he didn't know what to do, he went to the mortal world to buy some ingredients to make chicken soup with dumplings.

That person was long gone, and he didn't know what the point of continuing to make the chicken soup was, because no one would eat it anyway. Even if it tasted better than that of the stall owner, no one would smile and praise him anymore, but he continued to make it, as he had for a hundred thousand years.

It was as if that person was around, waiting to eat a bowl of his homemade, hot chicken dumplings in soup.

A'Zhi looked at the busy man at the stove. The pot was so hot that Xuan Long's figure became a little blurred. A'Zhi sat at the table squeezing a candied gourd, and said as he looked at him: "You... why don't you go and take care of the wound first, I'm not very hungry at the moment."

"It's nothing." Xuan Long concentrated on the action of wrapping the dumplings in his hands, squeezing and wrapping each one carefully, as if nothing in life was more important than the dumpling in his hands.

A'Zhi frowned, surprised at Xuan Long's skill. The dumplings looked like small, delicate treasures, almost uniform in size.

The chicken soup was already simmering in the inner pot on the stove, and Xuan Long had used his spiritual power to make the soup taste as good as if it had been simmering for five hours. The plain water in the outer pot was already boiling, and all that was left was for the dumplings to go into the pot and boil twice before they were ready to serve.

When A'Zhi couldn't persuade him, he secretly called for the Healing Immortal. Halfway through the incantation, Xuan Long noticed something and raised his head to look at him through the hazy mist.

"Don't call on the Healing Immortal."

"Why?"

Xuan Long was silent for a long time: "... I'm used to the peace and quiet, I don't like to be disturbed by others."

He was afraid that if Yan Yuan had even half a soul left in the world, when he came to look for him, he would not be able to find his way home, and that an unfamiliar scent would be mixed with his, which was not good at all.

A'Zhi did not understand Xuan Long's stubbornness. He was angry but could not help it, he had not seen Xuan Long for too long and was not in a position to say anything.

Xuan Long was already a man of few words, and it was only when A'Zhi said something that he replied. The room became quiet again. Apart from the sound of boiling hot water, there was nothing else, and this silence lasted until the dumplings were served.

"Taste it... see if it's to your liking."

"Mm."

"All these years have… have you been well."

Father and son sat facing each other. A'Zhi stirred the bowl of dumplings with his spoon, which was too hot to be eaten.

Xuan Long paused with the spoon in his hand and smiled, "I was okay."

It must not have been very good. When A'Zhi was young, he was ignorant. When Yan Yuan left, it was like digging out Xuan Long's heart. He didn't know how to feel for him, but he had to put all the blame on Xuan Long, refusing to call him 'Mother' and forbidding him to call out his name. So from the time they met until now, Xuan Long had not called A'Zhi's name at all.

In the second year after Yan Yuan's departure, when A'Zhi's birthday came, he threw down Xuan Long's gift in front of the gods and told him to go away, saying that he was not worthy of calling his name.

Xuan Long remembered and never upset him again, but A'Zhi still did not want to see him.

A child doesn't know all the twists and turns. All he knew was that his father, who had been with him since he could remember and who loved him, had turned to dust in Xuan Long's arms and that he no longer had a father.

It was rumoured in the Heavenly Realm that Xuan Long had killed Yan Yuan. When he asked Xuan Long if this was true, he did not deny it, and A'Zhi hated Xuan Long ever since.

If he could do it all over again, he would persuade his father not to take him to find his mother. He didn't want his mother, he just wanted his father to live, and if possible, he even wished that Xuan Long would be the one to leave.

This was the true thought in the young A'Zhi's heart.

Over the years, Ye Ling Shenjun tried to mediate between them, but the effect was minimal. A'Zhi simply would not listen and did not understand why his father would rather die than be with his mother; this logic simply did not hold true with him.

It was only when he grew up, became an adult, had a sweetheart, and was even willing to make the same choice as Yan Yuan for the sake of his sweetheart that he finally understood why.

He had been wrong in blaming Xuan Long all these years and felt guilty in his heart, so he could not help but come to see Xuan Long and apologise to him. But then he thought that for a hundred thousand years he had refused to see Xuan Long, and that Xuan Long had not come to see him and perhaps did not miss him at all, so he squirmed and refused to talk to Xuan Long properly when he did meet him, causing a childish tantrum.

But after spending a little time together, he realised that there was no way Xuan Long didn't miss him, dragging his injured body to the mortal world to buy him good food and make him chicken soup. He must have been overjoyed that he came.

Maybe he often snuck into the Nine Heavens to see him behind his back, and just didn't let him know.

When he didn't know any better, he resented Xuan Long so much that as time went on, no one dared mention Xuan Long's name in front of him. Even if Ye Ling Shenjun knew that Xuan Long had come to see him, he wouldn't dare to tell him, for fear that it would backfire.

"It's good that you were okay." A'Zhi bowed his head. The heat from the bowl mixed with the aroma rose to his face, causing his eyes to heat up a little and his voice to sound a little mute. Having sorted out his thoughts, and the guilt overwhelmed him more and more.

"What about you?" Xuan Long asked.

"I am well, I have an immortal teacher to teach me in literature and martial arts, I have immortal eunuchs at my side, I am well clothed and well fed, and I have never wasted my days." A'Zhi replied with his head bowed, golden beans falling one after another into the bowl.

Seeing him cry for no reason, Xuan Long stood up at a loss, not knowing what to do: "You... what happened... the dumplings were not to your liking... "

"Don't cry... what do you like to eat, tell me, I will go and buy..."

A'Zhi sniffed heavily and shook his head. By now, the dumplings were just about ready to be eaten, so he grabbed the spoon and took a big bite, and the more he ate, the more the tears welled up.

Xuan Long slowly sat back on the chair, holding the tabletop, his throat throbbing, "But something has upset you..."

A'Zhi shook his head and refused to speak.

In a short while, the large bowl of chicken dumplings was eaten by him, even the soup was drained clean. A'Zhi put the bowl down gently, and his tears finally stopped.

Xuan Long hadn't been around the child all these years and didn't know what was going through his mind, so when he saw that he was sad, his heart was sad too, and he became more and more cautious.

"Do you want more?"

A'Zhi shook his head, "No... I'm full, the dumplings are delicious."

"I've lived well all these years, but you... should take good care of yourself too. If Father knew that you don't take care of your body like this, he would be very sad."

Xuan Long listened to him in silence and did not say a word.

A'Zhi: "Let me help you with your wounds."

"No need..." Xuan Long subconsciously didn't want him to see his wounds.

"Do you resent me for refusing to see you for the past hundred thousand years?" A'Zhi's eyes were downcast and very forlorn.

Xuan Long: "No..."

In the end, Xuan Long withdrew his clothes to reveal his wounds, there was no parent in the world who could argue with his own child. A'Zhi showed an expression like that, and Xuan Long felt his heart twist into knots.

His heart had been stabbed by the tentacles of a nightmare demon. No matter how many nightmares the nightmare demon devoured, it would not be a match for Xuan Long, but the problem was that the nightmare demon was able to create dreams out of thin air, suddenly causing Xuan Long to fall into a dream world and weaving the image of Yan Yuan.

It had been too long since Xuan Long had seen Yan Yuan, so long that he had almost forgotten his scent and temperature. In the past hundred thousand years, Yan Yuan had entered his dreams only a handful of times, and he missed him so much that even if it was just a dream, he was willing to immerse himself in it forever, not wanting to break free.

Knowing full well that the person in front of him was a fake and would bring him to his eternal doom, he walked over to him without hesitation when Yan Yuan held out his hand to him.

Yan Yuan was bathed in the sunlight, smiling so gently, and extended his hand to him, "A'Po... come here."

How could he bear to refuse?

Just as he was about to place his hand in the palm of Yan Yuan's hand, there was a piercing pain in his heart. He looked down to see a black tentacle, the thickness of a child's arm, stabbed into his heart, and the Yan Yuan before him disappeared, turning into a strange, writhing demon like a sea monster and letting out an ear-splitting laugh.

The nightmare demon had been badly wounded from the previous battle, and although Xuan Long had fallen for his trick, he reacted promptly and cut off the tentacle before reducing the demon to dust with little effort.

The wound looked like it was bleeding a lot, but in fact it hadn't hurt anything vital. However, due to the demonic energy that had eaten away at it, it left a black, bloody hole that looked quite creepy. When A'Zhi applied the medicine for him, his eyes were so red that they seemed to be dripping blood.

"Does it hurt..."

"... It doesn't hurt." Xuan Long pursed his lips, wanting to comfort him, but he didn't know what to say.

When he smelled the demonic aura, A'Zhi knew how the injury had come about, and he said in a mute voice, "You have to protect yourself."

"Don't let Father worry."

Xuan Long: "... Okay."

After the medicine was administered, Xuan Long sat down and straightened his clothes, while A'Zhi stood in front of him and looked at his bloodless face under the candlelight: "Mother..."

Xuan Long paused for a long time before answering, "En."

"I'm sorry..." A'Zhi said in a trembling voice.

Xuan Long lifted his face, his icy turquoise eyes clouded with a white mist, and he curled his lips, "What are you sorry for? There is no reason to apologise."

"All these years... I'm sorry." A'Zhi hoarsely said.

"There is no need to apologise, you have a good life, that is the most joyful thing for me." Xuan Long stood up and touched his fingertips lovingly to A'Zhi's brow, caressing it inch by inch.

"The rest... doesn't matter..."




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