Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 101

Yun Yongzhou smiled calmly. He had more or less expected this. Once Yun Ting was exposed, Wei Huan would sooner or later begin suspecting him. What he hadn’t expected was that the moment would come so soon—he had still underestimated Wei Huan’s intelligence.

“Yes,” he took a step toward Wei Huan. 

“You guessed right.”

This wasn’t a place where they could talk openly about an anarchist organization. Yun Yongzhou moved his fingers slightly, and a barrier appeared out of thin air, enveloping them both. In the next instant, they were standing outside Yun Yongzhou’s lakeside cottage.

“When did you start to suspect?” Yun Yongzhou asked.

“I suspected long ago, but had ruled it out early on,” Wei Huan replied.

Outside the house, a new swing set had appeared by the lake. Wei Huan only now noticed it and walked over joyfully to sit on one of them, his long legs swaying. “Actually, you hid it really well. I only started to truly suspect you today—no, I mean I finally confirmed it.”

Yun Yongzhou came over and sat silently on the other swing beside him.

“At first, I didn’t really care who the leader of Rebels was. But then Qing He told me that he met this Yu Sheng in the dark zone while watching the news of my supposed death—that chance encounter made me question Yu Sheng’s motives in saving Qing He.” He turned his head to look at Yun Yongzhou. “At the time, I thought—Yu Sheng probably knows me. Later, when my request to join Rebels was denied, I became even more certain.”

“I didn’t know who Qing He was when I saved him,” Yun Yongzhou said plainly.

Wei Huan had already guessed that. He tilted his head. “Was it because you thought he looked pitiful?”

But Yun Yongzhou wasn’t the type to help someone just because they looked pitiful. Wei Huan laughed and teased him, “That’s not right. Little Golden Crow has a reputation in Shanhai for turning a blind eye to those in need.”

Unexpectedly, Yun Yongzhou calmly replied:

“It was because I loved what he loved.”

He had seen the sorrow Qing He felt at Wei Huan’s death—and so he saved him. Yun Yongzhou wasn’t like Wei Huan—he had always been hard-hearted. By sheer chance, when he later investigated Qing He’s background, he found he had saved the son of the former president of Fanzhou.

Wei Huan turned over the meaning of “loving what he loves.” 

Yun Yongzhou spoke again: “Qing He probably doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Yeah,” Wei Huan chuckled, pushing off the ground. The swing soared. “And he misled me. Thinking back, you always looked down on others—look at how scared Fang Cheng is of you—but you, toward Qing He, seemed a tiny bit nicer.” He gestured with his fingers, showing just a sliver. “You know, Qing He once secretly told me that when you two were paired together to capture Yang Shu, you actually told him that Tianfa would recover. He thought you were becoming more like me because you’d spent too much time with me.”

“After all, he’s my subordinate,” Yun Yongzhou looked at the white mist rising from the lake. “I’ve more or less watched him grow up over these years.”

And had guided his growth.

“Mhm.”

Fate was truly strange. Back then, he had brushed past Qing He, not knowing how much the boy’s fate had already changed. Unexpectedly, Yun Yongzhou had met him too—and given him a new beginning.

Now that he thought about it, even his own chance at a new beginning had come from Yun Yongzhou. Not just the soul-summoning. Even when he reincarnated into a human body and escaped from Lab 137, it had been Yun Yongzhou’s subordinate, Ah Zu, who rescued him—and showed him the way back to Shanhai.

In the dark, the red threads had already tied their destinies together.

“Now that I think back, there were so many clues pointing to you,” Wei Huan said, swaying and looking up at the sky. “Qing He said none of the demons or half-demons in Rebels could detect Yu Sheng’s demon aura. They all suspected he was human or half-demon. That threw me off too—but today, standing in Shanhai Square and hearing you expose Yun Ting, I suddenly remembered: you’ve hidden your demon aura in front of me multiple times. I just never paid attention.”

Yun Yongzhou knew that was the part where he had slipped up—but back then he hadn’t thought it would matter much.

“You mean that time you came to find me in the underground garage at army HQ.”

“Mhm,” Wei Huan nodded. “I had just slashed your tires, and you sneaked up behind me and scared me. At the time, I didn’t even think about the hidden aura. And that time we went to the dark zone—to the Kongtong Tavern—where we met that demon-hunting father and son. You were hiding your aura then too.”

Yun Yongzhou nodded slightly. “I learned how to conceal demon aura from ancient Golden Crow texts.”

“So that’s how.” Wei Huan immediately looked regretful, muttering to himself, “I should’ve figured it out earlier. Every time something happened in the dark zone, you were the first one to show up. I used to think it was just our pact link, the soul bond, and didn’t think more of it.”

Yun Yongzhou reached out and took his hand. “Actually, it’s also because you already had a suspect in mind.”

Wei Huan glanced at him, holding back a grin. “You were upset because I initially thought Yu Sheng was Buyu, weren’t you?” He grabbed Yun Yongzhou’s hand tightly. “Don’t be mad at me. Think about it: among all of us, Qing He’s the one who’s most familiar with your Yu Sheng identity. Even he guessed wrong—and dragged me into the wrong pit with him. I only ever saw your ‘alt account’ once—and you ran away. You can’t blame me for guessing wrong.”

Yun Yongzhou gave his hand a gentle squeeze.

“Who could ever outtalk you?”

“Honestly, up until today, I still suspected Buyu,” Wei Huan interlaced his fingers with Yun Yongzhou’s. “But the moment I heard your closing statement, I was sure it was you. ‘The truth is cruel, but like the sun above your heads—he is always there.’ That kind of line… there’s no way Buyu would say something like that.”

“At first, I really thought he was the most likely candidate to get involved in an anarchist movement—especially after I found out how much he desired strength. That prediction kept getting stronger. After all, he’s always struggled with his identity between human and demon. That kind of marginalization could easily push someone to rebel.” Wei Huan’s eyes drifted into the distance. “But the more time I spent with Buyu after coming back to life, the more I realized… he wouldn’t do something like that. He wants power, yes—but more than that, he wants to become a powerful demon, not stand apart from humans and demons alike.”

“Su Buyu grew up with you, so I’ve never said anything negative about him in front of you,” Yun Yongzhou said, pausing before continuing, “But he’s no longer the same person he once was. You need to understand that.”

Wei Huan lowered his eyes.

“I know. I suspected for a long time. But the existence of Yu Sheng gave me something to hold on to. I kept telling myself—if it was him, then everything still made sense. But now… I don’t really have an excuse anymore. He traded with Shahua for more powerful abilities, absorbed her witch power, kept getting stronger—he must have done something. Or is planning to.”

He didn’t say the worst-case scenario aloud. He hadn’t figured out yet what he would do if Su Buyu really stood on the opposite side from him.

“I investigated him,” Yun Yongzhou said, “but he’s been extremely cautious. He left behind nothing suspicious.”

“I hope it’s just me overthinking things,” Wei Huan said with a long sigh as he looked at Yun Yongzhou. “I used to think this was a story about a half-demon rising up to resist oppression and gain independence. But in the end, it turned out to be a carefully orchestrated prince’s revenge.”

Yun Yongzhou really was someone with terrifying patience. Clearly someone filled with killing intent, and yet so meticulous in thought that even Wei Huan felt surprised. Curiosity rose on his face.

“I really want to know—when did you first come up with the idea of creating Rebels? Was it after I died?”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t like hearing Wei Huan mention his death. His eyes darkened, but he couldn’t bear to let that show, so he answered anyway: “If you mean the desire to resist… it started the day I was taken back to the main Golden Crow family.”

Those words made Wei Huan feel both sad and shocked. He couldn’t help but recall that sleepless night when Yun Yongzhou had told him everything—how he was tormented because of his talent, abused, hunted, and finally locked back in a cage. How he had watched his mother have her soul stripped away before his very eyes—never to be free again.

He knew Yun Yongzhou harbored deep pain and fury. But what he hadn’t known was that even as a child, he had already planted the seed of rebellion against absolute power and patriarchy—and kept it buried for all these years. Outwardly, he pretended to be the cold and proud weapon Yun Ting had forged. But Yun Ting probably never imagined that from the moment his silent son returned to him, the flame of revenge had already been lit. For twenty years, he endured, waiting for this moment.

The moment when the very blade Yun Ting had forged was plunged straight into his own heart.

Though he now understood Yun Yongzhou’s original intent, Wei Huan still felt a little puzzled. He let go of Yun Yongzhou’s hand. “But why the dark zone? Haven’t you always hated that place? Back when we were students, every time I snuck off to the dark zone, you’d drag me back by force. You always said the same thing: ‘The dark zone is forbidden for Shanhai students. No one’s allowed in without permission.’” He gave Yun Yongzhou a pointed look. “I’ve heard it so many times, my ears grew calluses.”

“I don’t hate the dark zone,” Yun Yongzhou said, standing up and walking behind Wei Huan. He gripped the two ropes of the swing Wei Huan sat on. “That’s where we made the most memories.”

At those words, Wei Huan’s swinging stopped. His back pressed lightly against Yun Yongzhou’s chest—like two magnets accidentally drawn together.

He hadn’t expected Yun Yongzhou to say something like that.

“Whenever you snuck out, I always knew where you’d hide. I knew what kind of trouble you’d get into. And once you disappeared, only I could find you again.” Yun Yongzhou’s voice held a rare trace of amusement. It no longer sounded so cold. “Who cared about school rules or regulations? Looking back… I was just making excuses for myself.”

He placed his hands on Wei Huan’s shoulders.

“I just wanted to be the first to find you.”

The dark zone was where they had fought side by side. He had witnessed Wei Huan’s wildness and freedom in that chaotic place. He had also seen the vulnerable and lost boy hiding behind a brave face, one who had lost both parents.

Back then, he had used school discipline as a pretext to tightly grasp his wrist amidst the neon lights and decadence—dragging him along with his own selfish heart. In that blurry state of consciousness, they had walked the dark alleys together under the moonlight, burning through their youth like wildfire.

And once, in the dazzling lights and rooftop winds of the dark zone, he had sealed his soul with a kiss from Wei Huan—and never escaped from that night’s wind since.

He never intended to.

After Wei Huan left, Yun Yongzhou often wandered the dark zone. He had a gut feeling: if Wei Huan ever came back, he might appear there again. Disguised, he wandered those same alleys and streets they had walked, recalling all the teasing, the tricks, the laughter, the begging, and his terrible drinking habits. Just by staying in that place, everything felt vivid again.

As if he had never left at all.

Sometimes when he came across murderers and thieves, Yun Yongzhou would think of him. If Wei Huan were still alive, he would definitely stand up for what’s right. Though Yun Yongzhou was never one to play the hero, when he thought of Wei Huan, he would do it anyway. Gradually, the chaos of the dark zone was subdued by him without even realizing it, and he became the so-called guardian of the dark zone.

On a rainy day, when he saw Qing He beaten to the ground, unable to get up, watching the news of Nine Phoenix’s death with lifeless eyes like a baby bird with nowhere to turn—he suddenly thought of Wei Huan. Thought of how once, on a rainy day, Wei Huan had built a shelter for a nest of baby birds in Shanhai and got laughed at by the other students.

[What are you laughing at? Next time it rains and you don’t bring an umbrella, don’t come begging me to block the rain with my wings.]

Thinking of that scene, he held up an umbrella and walked over to Qing He.

So Qing He hadn’t been wrong at all—he really was becoming more and more like Wei Huan.

Yun Yongzhou completely split himself in two. The half in the light lived the peaceful life Wei Huan had once wanted—becoming an instructor, owning a small lakeside house, quiet and leisurely. The half in the darkness hid his true self, concealed his name, and never for a moment forgot the mission of revenge and resistance.

“So unfair.”

When Yun Yongzhou suddenly said that, Wei Huan was a little surprised. He turned to look at him, eyebrows slightly raised. Warm sunlight fell into his pupils, casting a faint amber glow.

Yun Yongzhou pinched his nose gently.

“You kissed me, then turned around and forgot all about it—so carefree, so unburdened.” There was a barely noticeable sigh in his voice. “You left me there.”

A little rabbit in Wei Huan’s chest seemed to leap up in protest. He dug his heel into the ground, rocking the swing back and forth, his back nudging lightly into Yun Yongzhou—still facing away, but unable to hide the smile creeping onto his lips.

“Then I’ll give you another chance,” Wei Huan said, tilting his head back to look upside down at him. The world flipped, and Yun Yongzhou was still just as beautiful. He pointed at his own lips, then shut his eyes with great pomp. “Up to you whether you kiss me or not.”

In the darkness, he felt a pair of gentle hands lift his chin. Soft lips pressed down, lightly touching his own.

A fallen star plunging into the lake. The moonlight slipping away. The storm winds finally calming. A tender little sun settled quietly in his heart.

As they parted, Wei Huan opened his eyes with a mischievous grin.

“You jumped into the fire pit yourself—I gave you a chance.” Then he twisted his body, hooked his arm around Yun Yongzhou’s neck, and deepened the kiss, entwining and relentless.

Just like the wild freedom and heat of that night on the rooftop, years ago.