Transmigration:The Villain Wants A Happy End Without His BeastHusbands-Chapter 158: I Do Not Use A Blade Either

Su Ningyan stared at the flute in Lan Meishan’s grasp, his gaze unusually cautious.

For a brief, absurd moment, he wondered if he had begun to fear the very thing he once relied on most.

The jade surface was wrapped in a gentle emerald glow, threads of purified qi flowing through it like quiet streams.

Ningyan did not move closer. Not yet.

"...You’re cleansing it?" he asked, voice careful, as if speaking too loudly might provoke it.

"Mm." Meishan nodded.

His eyes flicked to Ningyan’s expression, sharp, observant, lingering just a second longer.

Ningyan cleared his throat and stepped forward anyway.

The emerald glow dissipated at once.

Meishan extended the flute toward him.

Ningyan took it slowly as though expecting something to go wrong. Then his fingers tightened.

A pulse of deep violet qi surged from his palm, wrapping around the flute in a familiar, ominous glow.

His breath left him in a quiet exhale.

"...Alright," he muttered. "That’s better."

A faint smile touched Meishan’s lips as he watched the tension leave Ningyan’s shoulders.

It had been nearly a week since they arrived at the Azure Dragon Clan. And Ningyan had to admit that being thoroughly pampered by two husbands was... not unpleasant. At all.

He had long since accepted a certain truth about himself. He was greedy. Just like the original Ningyan. And, frankly, he saw no reason to change that.

Life had been peaceful. Suspiciously peaceful. There were no assassins. No sudden life-threatening disasters. Just food, rest, and an alarming amount of attention.

He hadn’t even left the chamber much. But that suited him perfectly. As long as he could eat, sleep, and exist comfortably why would he?

Jun Haoxuan was often absent, occupied with his duties or cultivation.

Lan Meishan, on the other hand, drifted between the chamber and the imperial library, returning without fail. He was always within reach.

Ningyan liked that very much.

"Cultivating with my flute is easier," Ningyan said suddenly, lifting it slightly before hugging Meishan’s arm with a bright, almost mischievous smile. "I’m not letting it out of my sight again. I’ve learned my lesson."

Then, as if remembering something far more important, "Oh, right."

His eyes lit up. "I found something while going through Haoxuan’s things last night."

Meishan blinked and raised a hand, pressing two fingers lightly against Ningyan’s forehead.

"...Is that appropriate?" he asked, completely serious.

Ningyan tilted his head. Genuinely considering it.

"...Is it supposed to be inappropriate?" he replied.

"I don’t—" Lan Meishan didn’t get to finish.

Ningyan had already grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the chamber. Across the corridor. Straight into Jun Haoxuan’s quarters.

The door slid shut behind them with a soft click.

Ningyan released him, drawing in a quick breath as if he had just completed something important.

Meishan said nothing. He simply watched attentively and curiously.

Ningyan moved deeper into the chamber, his steps light, almost excited. The space was sleek, refined with azure and gold woven into every detail, the air carrying that same quiet, controlled presence that always clung to Jun Haoxuan.

Then he stopped in front of the weapon wall.

Rows of blades, spears, and artifacts rested in perfect order, each radiating faint traces of disciplined qi.

Ningyan reached out without hesitation.

Meishan followed a step behind him. "What did you find?" he asked.

Ningyan’s fingers closed around a pair of twin swords, crystalline blue, bound together by a fine silver chain. Lightning flickered faintly within their core, like something alive but restrained.

He lifted them effortlessly.

"Look," Ningyan said, turning with bright excitement. "Haoxuan’s main weapon. The Lightning Twin Swords."

Meishan stilled. His gaze sharpened.

"...How are you holding that so—" He stopped. Realization settled in. "...Ah."

Ningyan blinked. "What?"

"Jun Haoxuan’s weapons are bound fiercely to his qi," Meishan said calmly. "Other beasts cannot touch them without being rejected. Even I would be injured."

His eyes flicked to Ningyan’s hands. "But you carry the crystal."

Ningyan looked down at the swords. Then back at Meishan.

His eyes lit up, bright, unrestrained, almost sparkling. "...Wait."

A grin spread across his face. "Does that mean I can use his weapons?"

Meishan couldn’t help it. His lips curled into a soft and unguarded smile.

"Yes," he said. "But you shouldn’t."

Ningyan pouted.

Meishan gestured to the flute tucked beneath his arm. "You are more familiar with your own weapon. It responds to you. It supports you."

Ningyan frowned, clearly unconvinced. Still he returned the twin swords carefully to their place reluctantly.

He pulled his flute free instead, holding it up with mild dissatisfaction. "...But it’s not a blade."

Meishan tilted his head. "I do not use a blade either."

Before Ningyan could respond, an emerald glow gathered in Meishan’s hand. Condensing and shaping until a long fluid chain materialized in his grip. Its edges lined with fine, lethal spikes that shimmered with quiet danger.

It moved slightly as if it was alive.

Ningyan’s eyes widened, the emerald light reflecting vividly within them. "...Whoa."

Meishan smiled faintly.

"Every beast has something they resonate with most," he said. "An instrument. A medium. It can take any form."

His gaze lowered briefly, thoughtful. "That is why demon tools are so potent. Our qi does not only shape the body, it shapes what we wield. When focused... it becomes something far more precise."

Ningyan listened, absently twirling his flute between his fingers with practiced ease.

"Wuhen condenses his qi into a sword," he said, his tone thoughtful.

Meishan nodded. "Exactly."

Ningyan tilted his head.

"I do that too... sometimes," he admitted. "It just... happens. Most of the time, I imitate whoever I’m fighting."

The flute spun once more before settling neatly in his grip.

Meishan’s eyes lingered on the motion. "You have been studying,"

It wasn’t a question.

"The texts you retrieved from the Phoenix Clan... you are using them."

Ningyan groaned lightly and leaned in, wrapping his arms around Meishan’s arm again.

"They’re boring," he muttered. "But yes. I’ve been using them."

Then, quieter, "I’m close."

Meishan glanced at him.

Ningyan didn’t elaborate, but the faint shift in the air around him said enough.

He was really growing stronger.