In my dying moments in our past life, the final image burned into my mind was Feng Yan, exhausted to the point of reverting to his true form. A giant black python coiling tightly around me, desperately biting into my neck to feed on my blood.

Picture it: you’re hovering on the edge of life and death, you open your eyes, and the first thing you see is a colossal snake treating you like a venti-sized boba tea. Who wouldn’t be scared out of their mind? That raw terror and resentment seeped deep into my soul, leaving me with a bone-chilling phobia of snakes after I was reincarnated.

But… none of it was his fault.

The truth was, Feng Yan had literally dropped to his knees to beg my father for that antidote. He didn’t understand the treacherous nature of human hearts, nor could he decipher smiles that hid silver daggers. He had only known the simple joy of clutching that medicine and racing back to save me—completely unaware that the “antidote” was actually the very poison that pushed me into an early grave.

Back then, Feng Yan was just like a terrified child who had done something horribly wrong. Panic-stricken, he refused to leave my corpse’s side. Later, the men of the Su clan brought exorcists to steal my body. They couldn’t defeat Feng Yan in a fair fight, nor did they dare eat his flesh raw, but they lusted after the power of immortality. So they set a trap, deceiving a foolish snake who was hopelessly, madly in love with a human girl.

Those ancient paintings Su Jing’an showed me… he had painted them all himself. They depicted a crowd dividing up the “flesh of immortality,” while I lay on an altar, butchered like a fish at a wet market. Looking back, I just wanted to jump out of my skin and sue my entire ancestral bloodline.

What they didn’t know was that Feng Yan’s blood was both a divine elixir and a lethal poison. Using his own blood to save me meant he had to pay the ultimate price: losing all five of his senses and living as a hollow shell. Su Jing’an already had one foot in the grave, so the moment he discovered I had been reincarnated, he quietly began orchestrating the exact same tragedy. He tried to drive Feng Yan out of control so he would kill me all over again—allowing Su Jing’an to swoop in and claim my “immortal” corpse.

A truly systematic psychopath.

Thank God I had modern-day Feng Yan by my side. The man had literally established an entire R&D department dedicated to female safety devices. Talk about high-tech CEO romance: while other guys sent flowers, my husband sent anti-surveillance systems.

When I received that “blessed” incense burner from Su Jing’an, my car’s security system immediately chimed: “Ma’am, a pinhole camera has been detected within a one-meter radius.” Tracing the counter-surveillance signal, I found Su Jing’an hunkered down in a wet market, disguised as a butcher selling pork. The man was an absolute master of deception.

Knowing he couldn’t be trusted, I had Quagga stage a fake explosion in my backyard as a distraction. After all, Feng Yan loved using fire to solve his problems. In the past, he used to secretly burn all the love letters other guys sent me, only to stand there with a straight face and say, “It must have been an electrical short circuit.”

Did he really think I was that stupid?

Stepping out of the basement, I found Quagga standing next to a stunning woman with cascading curls, dressed in a glamorous red dress. A white snake demon. The moment she saw me, she reached out, attempting to grope my chest to check my vitals.

Quagga immediately tattled in a low whisper, “She squeezed mine earlier, too!”

The white snake demon offered a bashful explanation: “Sorry about that! I was just copying what I saw in the movies. The snake demons on TV always do that.”

Turns out, she was the mother of the catnip-munching little snake back at our house. She had sent her son over via express delivery because the little guy kept throwing a tantrum to visit. Before leaving, she dropped a crucial piece of information:

“If you’re looking for Little Yan, he’s up on Mount Cung. He built a ‘nest’ up there.”

Hearing the word nest made me realize my marriage was veering further and further off the human grid.

Quagga and I spent half the day trekking up the mountain. The entire way up, she cursed Feng Yan to high heaven for hiding so well.

“Are you really not scared of snakes anymore?” she asked me.

“I’m working through it,” I replied softly.

Feng Yan had been lonely for far too long. After I died in our past life, he had tried to end his own existence, but failed. Later, he learned the art of “fate-binding,” tying our destinies together. In his mind, the logic was simple: if I loved him, I would let him feed on my blood so we could live together. And if I didn’t love him… “then he might as well just drop dead.”

Hearing that made me want to call a demon-realm mental health hotline immediately.

Stepping into the mountain cottage, I froze.

Feng Yan was covered in blood, holding a fistful of colorful feathers. Beside his massive tail… was a completely plucked, naked bird wailing at the top of its lungs: “Professor Su, save me!”

It was Jiang Guibai.

I rushed forward and started beating Jiang Guibai senseless for daring to “pluck my husband’s scales.”

Jiang Guibai cried tears of utter despair. “He plucked them himself! He said because you’re afraid of snakes and like birds, he wanted to turn into a bird! He plucked my feathers just to use as a template! Does it make any damn sense for a snake to cosplay as a phoenix?!”

Feng Yan quietly retreated into the inner room, covering his eyes with his hands. “Don’t look… I’m hideous.”

I walked over and pressed my wrist against his lips, scolding him through a mix of anger and heart-wrenching affection: “Drink up. Otherwise, you won’t even have the strength to walk back home. Feng Yan, you’ve lived for hundreds of years, yet your EQ is lower than my cat’s!”

He immediately put on the most pathetic, puppy-dog expression. As I wiped the blood off his face with a towel, I noticed the cloth was soaking wet.

Jiang Guibai poked his head back in to snitch again: “He’s crying! He’s cried through a dozen towels already and hung them up to dry! What a total crybaby snake!”

I turned Feng Yan’s face toward me, staring straight into his eyes. “Let’s go home, okay? I don’t hate you. I never wanted to hurt you.”

He pretended to be aloof with a quiet “Oh,” but his face flushed as red as a ripe persimmon. I stood on tiptoe and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. Right at that moment, the System popped into view, wearing a tiny backpack and getting ready to make a run for it. It announced that Feng Yan had paid it way too much money, so it was quitting to go start a male model system instead.

On our way down the mountain, we passed a pregnant woman. Feng Yan stared at the couple for a long moment before whispering softly, “This family will be very happy. Shunhi, off you go.”

I watched as a spirit in a military uniform bowed deeply to him before vanishing beside the pregnant woman. Only then did I realize that the shadows clinging to his back weren’t vengeful ghosts—they were the spirits of fallen soldiers he had been quietly escorting back to the land they had sacrificed their lives to protect.

Feng Yan wrapped his arms tightly around me, his voice raw and raspy.

“Xiao Du, I was raised by you. I am a reflection of you. Love is a cycle—it’s like a Möbius strip, with no beginning and no end.”

He softly recited the poem I had once read to him:

The moonlight slipped behind the clouds. Feng Yan pulled me close against his chest, reclaiming everything that belonged to him: tenderness, a home, and an eternal, unyielding love.