Everyone Is Non-Human Except Me [Rebirth] Chapter 99

“You remember?” Wei Huan said to Qing He. “In the archive room with Yun Yongzhou, that extermination list of the Li Clan—we saw Shen Siming’s name on it.”

Qing He nodded and took a palm-sized control screen from his toolkit. “Luckily, all my devices are synced.” He pulled up the file Yun Yongzhou had compiled. Just then, Yang Sheng and Madam Jing returned from the backyard. Jing Yun, who had been sneaking peeks from the second-floor window, immediately darted down upon seeing they were done. He exchanged a glance with Yang Sheng, pushed up his glasses, and went to his mother’s side. “I’m fine now, Mom.”

“You sure are,” Madam Jing teased. “Just one semester and you think you’ve become someone important.”

“Madam Jing,” Wei Huan said, “there’s something I’d like to ask you.”

Every time Jing Yun came home from school, he’d share stories with his mother—especially about his best friend, Ah Heng. When Jing Yun later learned Wei Huan’s identity, she was the first person he told. So Madam Jing, knowing how much her son had benefited from Wei Huan’s protection, had always looked kindly upon him as well.

“Go ahead,” she said, sitting on the sofa.

Wei Huan handed her the list. “This is a mission roster we found. The operation was the extermination of the last surviving branch of the Demon slayer Clan—the Li Clan. One of the names here is Shen Siming. Was he your husband’s brother?”

Her hand, lifting a teacup, paused. Then she lowered it and nodded. “Yes, that’s him.” She looked down at the list. “When he undertook that mission, I hadn’t yet married my husband, so I may not have much to offer, but I do know one thing.”

Her slender finger tapped the list. “Everyone on here was part of the Shanhai Combat Division. Except your father.”

Cold sweat seeped into Wei Huan’s palms. Every guess he had was being confirmed—it was terrifying.

Yang Sheng said, “But the government military and the Shanhai forces have always been two separate armed entities. Even if Uncle Wei was a major general at the time, he wouldn’t have had the authority to lead a Shanhai operation. It doesn’t make sense.”

Madam Jing sipped her tea and turned to Wei Huan. “When I was younger, I had the fortune of meeting your parents a few times. They helped me greatly, and I’ve always held no grudge against the Nine Phoenix Clan. I’m also sure many things over the years have been misunderstandings.” She recalled how, when she fled her family, Nine Phoenix stepped in multiple times to help, shielding her from the relentless pursuit of the Chongming main branch.

Back then, she’d been a young, naive girl—but she had never forgotten her gratitude to Nine Phoenix.

“I learned from my husband that his brother, Shen Siming, indeed participated in that purge. It was during the peak of human-demon tensions. If the rest of the list is accurate, and if Shanhai was never under the command of the government military, then only one possibility remains.”

Wei Huan knew what she was about to say.

“My father wasn’t the mission’s actual leader.”

Madam Jing looked at him. “It was a decoy.”

Wei Huan stood up and said “thank you” twice, slightly dazed. Qing He got up as well. “Let’s head back. You need rest.”

Yang Ling and Yan Shanyue followed. Boss Jue came last. One by one, they bid Madam Jing farewell. Finally, it was Yang Sheng’s turn—he glanced at Jing Yun before turning to leave.

“Little Nine Phoenix, one more thing,” Madam Jing called out to Wei Huan just as he was leaving. “Back when you were framed, the reason so many believed you had truly betrayed us was because your battle emblem had been submitted to the Fanzhou government. But did you really give it to them?”

“I would never give up my emblem so easily,” Wei Huan said firmly.

Madam Jing smiled. “I believe you. That’s why you must find out who forged that false evidence—who really tried to destroy the Nine Phoenix Clan.”

With heavy thoughts, the group returned to Kunlun Void.

“You all rest well,” Wei Huan said. “You’ve worked hard.”

Yang Ling looked worried. “Aren’t you coming back with us to Yansui, Brother Huan?”

“I’m going to find Yun Yongzhou,” he said after a pause. “You go ahead.”

Yang Sheng warned, “The general election is in two days. Government patrols are tight. Don’t make any risky moves.”

Wei Huan clapped his shoulder. “Got it.”

Just as they were leaving, Boss Jue suddenly approached Wei Huan and leaned in unnervingly close to his chest. Wei Huan stepped back warily. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t move,” she said. Reaching forward, she released a flash of orange light—then drew back her hand, revealing a petal from a bian flower in her palm. Even Boss Jue looked puzzled. “Why would she put this here?”

She twirled the long, curved petal thoughtfully.

“I had a feeling she wanted to say something at the end,” Yan Shanyue said. “Could this be a message?”

Boss Jue closed her hand around the petal. “I’ll look into it when I get back. That girl was full of tricks—she’d never leave something behind without a reason.”

Wei Huan nodded. “Thanks.”

“About Buyu…” Yang Sheng hesitated a little.

“Let’s leave it for now,” Wei Huan said. He still couldn’t bring himself to put Su Buyu into an opposing camp. He’d rather believe that what Su Buyu was hiding from him was merely ambition. “I want to find a chance to talk things through with him, but now isn’t the time.”

There were too many things he was dealing with right now, each one requiring him to sort through the threads himself. He watched calmly as Yang Sheng led the juniors back to Shanhai. As the purple barrier contracted, Wei Huan turned around and walked alone down the streets of Kunlun Void. On the building screens, a speech from a political party spokesperson was playing. Fortunately, he didn’t have to hear Yun Ting’s voice this time—it was another candidate instead, a young politician from the Water Qilin clan.

He recalled the past: his father, due to his extremely high approval rating, had been voted “The General Most People Hope Will Resign from the Military and Enter Politics” in the demon realm’s online polls for several consecutive years. Looking back now, he wondered—if his father had really gone into politics, would everything have been different?

But even so, he would still rather the Nine Phoenix clan had never been dragged into the center of the vortex of power.

As he was lost in thought, the ground suddenly began to tremble. Wei Huan snapped back to his senses, looking at the quaking ground beneath his feet. Even the buildings by the street were shaking. He heard a child scream, and looking toward the sound, saw a little kid clinging fearfully to a tree branch—he must have climbed up earlier to play. Wei Huan summoned a light rope with his spiritual energy, scooped the child up, and gently set him back on the ground.

“Be careful, go home now,” he called out, retracting the light rope. Seeing the child run off, he let out a breath. Thankfully, the tremor didn’t last long and soon subsided, leaving behind only slight aftershocks.

“What was that…” Wei Huan crouched to inspect the ground, when he suddenly sensed something. Looking up, he saw Yun Yongzhou standing right in front of him.

He couldn’t explain it, but even though he felt worn down, all those tangled emotions within him were swept away the moment he saw Yun Yongzhou. He squatted there like a little frog, looked up at him, and stretched out a hand. “Hold.”

Yun Yongzhou took his hand and pulled him up. Whether deliberately or not, as soon as he was pulled to his feet, Wei Huan threw himself into his arms, smiling as he mock-complained, “You’re way too strong.”

Many passersby glanced at them, but Yun Yongzhou paid them no mind. After all, the entire demon realm already knew he had formed a contract with a human. Yun Ting had even used it later as political fodder. He patted Wei Huan on the back. “Hungry?”

“I’m okay.” Wei Huan buried his head into Yun Yongzhou’s collarbone. “Tired.”

Yun Yongzhou brought him back to the lakeside villa. Wei Huan had been there many times before, but this time, seeing it again, he felt a strange sense of familiarity. Sitting on the sofa, he looked out at the lake for a long time through the window. He remembered how he’d often said that once he graduated, he wanted to stay in Shanhai as an instructor—hopefully buy a lakeside villa and go fishing with his partner during downtime, maybe even swim in the summer.

Back then, he hadn’t even imagined what that partner would look like. But now, sitting here, listening to Yun Yongzhou clanging around in the kitchen—it somehow felt like a dream fulfilled.

But considering Yun Yongzhou’s cooking skills, he didn’t expect anything edible. After sitting for a while, he snuck into the kitchen, hugging him from behind. Tilting his head, he peered into the pot. Whatever was inside was… questionable.

“Looks like you’ve burned the bottom,” Wei Huan commented, arms wrapped around him, blinking up.

Though Yun Yongzhou didn’t look at him, his tense expression said it all. The guy could take out an entire room full of demons without a sound, but when it came to cooking, he was hopelessly frustrated. Wei Huan found it hilarious. He reached out and turned off the burner, pulled Yun Yongzhou around, and leaned against the other counter with his arms around his neck. “We’ll deal with that later.”

“You need to eat something,” Yun Yongzhou said, looking at him.

Wei Huan nodded solemnly, his bright eyes locked on him. “I know.”

His voice was soft, his lips curled up slightly as he spoke, his gaze drifting slowly from Yun Yongzhou’s eyes, to the bridge of his nose, then finally to his lips.

Then, Wei Huan leaned in and kissed him.

He knew he was burdened with so much, that once the door to the truth opened, a tidal wave of danger would surge in. But in this moment, he just wanted to spend as much ordinary time with Yun Yongzhou as possible.

Yun Yongzhou picked him up and sat him on the counter, hands braced on either side as he kissed him—slow and deep.

In this kiss, they were each other’s only safe harbor.

But just as Wei Huan’s fingers slid into Yun Yongzhou’s hair, pain suddenly stabbed through his chest. He broke away abruptly, biting down hard, and Yun Yongzhou asked in concern, “What’s wrong?”

Wei Huan shook his head—but the moment he did, his mind filled with other images. One scene showed him sitting at a desk, the whole room lit only by a dim desk lamp. He was carefully focused on something.

The image didn’t last long—it faded like mist. Then another appeared: he sat on the wall of Fuyao Academy, staring out through the academy’s blue barrier. There were students everywhere, all in red uniforms.

“Let’s go to the bedroom.” Yun Yongzhou picked him up horizontally. Wei Huan struggled weakly, his voice muffled in embarrassment, but he couldn’t fight Yun Yongzhou’s insistence and was carried all the way to the bedroom and placed on the bed.

How humiliating. He was a great demon who could take on a hundred enemies alone in battle.

“I’m fine,” Wei Huan said, lying on the bed and looking at Yun Yongzhou. “This is nothing. Back when we were on missions, our bodies were covered in wounds—some so deep you could see the bone. One time, I almost died.”

Yun Yongzhou’s face darkened.

Wei Huan realized he shouldn’t have said the word die, and quickly shut his mouth, even miming a zipper across his lips. But then, something else dawned on him—and he frowned.

There was once… he almost died.

Which time?

Why couldn’t he remember?

Yun Yongzhou sat at the edge of the bed and said in a low voice, “You all went to Wuqi again.”

Wei Huan flipped over and, like a little earthworm, wriggled his way over and deliberately rested his head on Yun Yongzhou’s lap, nestling in comfortably. “Yeah, I went.” As he spoke, his gaze drifted aside. “Did you know? Shahua is dead.”

Yun Yongzhou didn’t reply, only brushed aside the hair on Wei Huan’s forehead.

“I originally wanted to protect her demon soul, but I couldn’t.” Wei Huan grabbed Yun Yongzhou’s hand. “She told me that summoning a soul requires a price from both sides. The one being summoned will be passively sacrificed—giving up their most precious thing.” His eyes looked into Yun Yongzhou’s. “What do you think I gave up?”

Yun Yongzhou gently shook his head and leaned down to kiss Wei Huan on the forehead.

“As long as you came back, everything else will come back too.”

That wasn’t much of a comfort, but it still made Wei Huan feel a little better. “Mm, someday it will.” He turned to his side, fingers trailing slowly up the folds of Yun Yongzhou’s shirt. Along the way, he told him what Jing Yun’s mother had said.

“What do you think? Who tampered with the records? There’s no way my dad would have led a mission with the Shanhai Defense Force. Why do all this…”

Yun Yongzhou reached out and smoothed the frown that Wei Huan unconsciously made, saying flatly, “That mission was meant to completely wipe out the Demon slayer clan. But clearly, they didn’t finish the job. In the end, a lone orphan was left alive. That’s like a ticking time bomb. Wei Huan, if it were you—if you watched your entire family die tragically, what would you do years later?”

Of course—seek revenge.

Wei Huan’s gaze suddenly locked with Yun Yongzhou’s, his expression stiffening.

Yun Yongzhou continued, “That’s why I didn’t want you to go looking for the Demon slayer.”

Based on what he was saying, did the last surviving Demon slayer truly believe that Wei Huan’s father was the ringleader who murdered their entire family?

Wei Huan’s hands turned cold. “Back then… seven years ago, how did I die so thoroughly?” With his bloodline, he had far stronger vitality than most demons—how could he have just died like that? He couldn’t even remember what had happened. He looked at Yun Yongzhou. “Was that Demon slayer involved too?”

Yun Yongzhou had always been unwilling to revisit that time, but at last he nodded. “Yes.”

Wei Huan understood instantly. The Demon slayer who had misunderstood Nine Phoenix as the killers of their clan had shown up during his deployment to the border canyon seven years ago—and helped the enemy army kill him completely. For a grudge to span so many years… whoever orchestrated it had terrifying patience.

“Actually,” Yun Yongzhou suddenly said, “I rushed back to try to save you.”

Wei Huan froze. Yun Yongzhou had never told him that before.

“But I didn’t make it in time. By the time I got there, I couldn’t find you anymore.”

Bloodshed flooded the canyon. The scent of Nine Phoenix blood was everywhere, nearly pushing Yun Yongzhou to the brink of collapse. Not only had he failed to save him—he even fell into a trap.

He was hit by forty-nine soul-splitting needles. It nearly cost him his life.

Once a demon’s soul is split, they never return. The same technique had been used on both of them, one after the other. But Yun Yongzhou was grateful that the reborn Wei Huan didn’t seem to be suffering from the same torment of the soul-splitting needles. If he had gone through the same agony… Yun Yongzhou couldn’t even imagine it.

Wei Huan reached out to touch Yun Yongzhou’s face. “And then?”

Yun Yongzhou suppressed his emotions and gently shook his head. “I returned to report in.”

Wei Huan hugged his waist and buried his head against him, mumbling, “I don’t believe you. You probably went home and cried your eyes out, then planned to stay single forever in my memory. Right, little Golden Crow?”

“That mouth of yours,” Yun Yongzhou said, helpless, “It’d be best if you talked less.”

“Why!” Wei Huan was dissatisfied and looked up at him. “Why can’t I talk?”

Yun Yongzhou’s lips tugged into a faint smile. “Because your bad guesses always turn out right.”

Wei Huan pouted in protest and sat up, tilting his head to stare at Yun Yongzhou’s face. “Hey handsome, what’ve you been busy with lately?”

“The election is coming. What else could it be?” Yun Yongzhou replied flatly. Seeing Wei Huan staring so intently at him, he added slowly, “Why are you staring at me?”

Wei Huan’s eyes rolled, and he shook his head. “Nothing, just… I feel like you’ve been kind of…” He thought for a while, finally choosing the perfect phrase, “lying low and biding your time.”

Hearing him sound so smug, Yun Yongzhou raised an eyebrow. “Lying low and biding my time… huh.” He reached out and pinched Wei Huan’s cheek. “Once this is all over, I’ll finally be able to focus on spoiling you.”

“Tch,” Wei Huan rolled his eyes. “More like I’ll be the one spoiling you, little Golden Crow.”

“Are you a child? Why so temperamental?”

“Shut up. I’m a big scary demon—you’re the delicate little swan.”