Chapter Three: The Demon Lord King

Xie Yingying returned to the bed, for she had nowhere else to go. She wanted to sleep and regain her strength, so that another day she might do battle with Bai Shengyun for three hundred rounds. But she knew she could not defeat him in direct combat; stealth and cunning would have to suffice.

As she racked her brains for possible stratagems, Bai Shengyun strode in. The door closed behind him without a breeze.

Now fully dressed, Bai Shengyun looked aloof and ethereal, the very image of a Daoist immortal. “Get up. We’re leaving,” he said.

“I don’t even have clothes. How am I supposed to go anywhere?” Xie Yingying stared at him with open displeasure.

“Troublesome.” With a wave of his hand, a purple embroidered immortal’s gown appeared and was tossed onto the bed.

Before she could reach for the dress, a searing pain tore through her abdomen. She cried out in agony and collapsed onto the bed.

Xie Yingying had always dreaded suffering; even the slightest bruise would elicit wails for half the day. Now, this pain rivaled a thousand deaths by a thousand cuts. Tears blurred her vision, and low moans spilled from her throat.

“You…”

Her face was shrouded by disheveled hair, but her eyes burned with fury and hatred. This body had never suffered such torment until after her encounter with Bai Shengyun. To say it had nothing to do with him was impossible.

Yet Bai Shengyun approached the bed at his leisure, surveying her with calm detachment. The renowned beauty of the Demonic Sect, so seldom seen in such a sorry state. He pinched her chin and enunciated slowly, “Did you not long for me? Did you not always wish to marry me? Now your wish has come true—why are you so wretched?”

In everyone’s eyes, she was the original Xie Yingying. Having borrowed this body, the mess left behind was hers to resolve.

Wracked by pain so intense it felt as though her belly were being scorched by dozens of branding irons, her lips were already stained with blood. Yet she mustered a seductive, mocking smile, her pallor only heightening her allure.

Word by word, she retorted, “Are you insane?”

He remained as lofty and indifferent as ever, his gaze icy, betraying no trace of pity for the one who had only just shared his bed.

His words were cold and sharp: “Even if I am, it is because of you.”

With that, Bai Shengyun turned and left, his retreating figure the only answer for Xie Yingying, still stunned.

At the door, Ning Qingqing, who had been waiting, hurried forward as soon as she saw him. “Immortal Lord, I heard someone screaming just now. Was it that demoness Xie Buxiu?”

Without bothering to respond, Bai Shengyun closed the door and asked, “What do you want?”

Ning Qingqing declared her intent at once. “My name is Ning Qingqing, a disciple of the Celestial Sect. I wish to follow by your side, Immortal Lord.”

Before the one she longed for, even demonesses and fairies would abandon their pride.

“We are both disciples of the Celestial Sect. Why speak of following me?” Bai Shengyun gave her a meaningful look.

Bai Shengyun’s presence in the Celestial Sect was a mere cover, a means to investigate its secrets. He spoke with Ning Qingqing only because he sensed the faintest trace of kinship in her.

Most knew only of the legendary nine-tailed foxes of Qingqiu and Mount Tushan, but few had heard of the Celestial Foxes, a tribe that had secluded themselves on Mount Gufeng since ancient times. They were born with wings as white as clouds.

The Celestial Foxes’ tails could be refined into treasures, their claws could shatter all barriers, and their hearts could raise the dead—even from ashes. To avoid covetous eyes, they had always shunned outsiders.

But man’s envy knows no bounds. The Celestial Foxes, possessing such rare gifts, could not escape disaster. No tribe could tolerate their existence. The five races—demons, celestials, monsters, humans, and ghosts—made a pact to hunt them and share the spoils.

This was why Bai Shengyun was determined, in the end, to stand above all creation, to trample those who had wronged his people, to remind the world that the Celestial Foxes were not to be trifled with.

Long ago, to fulfill his ambition, the Celestial Sect’s founder struck a bargain with an ancient evil, learning a secret: once a Celestial Fox gave their body and soul, they could never change partners. Otherwise, their soul would be cast into the endless icy abyss.

But the founder, a man who had cultivated the Path of Supreme Detachment, found this knowledge useless. He had sacrificed everything for this and promptly coughed up three pints of blood.

Even so, before dying, he devised a plan: send his descendants to the East Sea to find a young mermaid, extract her bones and marrow, infuse her with a wisp of Celestial Fox consciousness, and raise her within the Celestial Sect, to ensnare the young lord of the Celestial Foxes in the future.

They did not know that at that time, the young fox lord had already infiltrated the Celestial Sect. In the original tale, that wisp of consciousness and a similarly tragic fate for the heroine’s body indeed caused the hero to repeatedly spare the heroine, setting into motion many lifetimes of love and hate.

Every romance began with Bai Shengyun and Ning Qingqing journeying together to Mount Gufeng.

Now, Ning Qingqing truly asked to accompany him to Mount Gufeng.

Freed at last from her agony, Xie Yingying stepped out just in time to hear this. A glint flashed across her face—perhaps this was her chance to escape.

She was about to speak, but before a word left her lips, she found herself facing Ning Qingqing’s sword. “Demoness, prepare to die!”

Xie Yingying was ready to fight back, but to her surprise, Bai Shengyun darted in front of her, shielding her completely.

“You cannot kill her.”

“Immortal Lord!”

Ning Qingqing’s confusion was plain; her eyes brimmed with tears, delicate as a white lotus in the rain.

Xie Yingying had no wish to play the fool. She flashed a bright, cunning smile. “That’s right, you can’t kill me. I’m your Immortal Lord’s betrothed, as he himself has said.”

Ning Qingqing stopped weeping and, eyes red, lunged at Xie Yingying. “You lie! The Immortal Lord, she—”

But Bai Shengyun did not move from Xie Yingying’s side, his emotions inscrutable, and he did not deny the claim.

Certain that Bai Shengyun was bewitched, Ning Qingqing abandoned all decorum, grabbing his sleeve and pleading, “Immortal Lord, you are unparalleled in grace; many fairy maidens would gladly marry you. Why would you take a bride from the Demonic Sect—especially the notorious Xie Buxiu? I…”

One listens to music for the melody, to conversation for the meaning.

Ning Qingqing’s meaning was clear: I could be your wife, too.

Having pressed her feelings so plainly, if Bai Shengyun still ignored her, he would not deserve the title of hero.

If things could truly be resolved so easily between herself and Bai Shengyun, Xie Yingying would be more than pleased. She smiled, radiant as a flower in bloom.

Already hailed as the most beautiful woman in the cultivation world, her smile now was enough to topple cities and kingdoms. From afar, her pale purple gown trailed gracefully, her long hair falling like a waterfall, unadorned save for two pearls at her ears, exuding an ethereal air. But up close, her willow brows, cherry lips, and lively apricot eyes, beneath that smile, dispelled all chill and warmed the heart.

“The fairy speaks well. What say you, Immortal Lord?” Xie Yingying asked, open and gracious.

She fully expected the hero to accept, for in the original story, given his character, Bai Shengyun would almost certainly take Ning Qingqing under his wing.

Bai Shengyun looked at the hopeful Ning Qingqing, a flicker of pity in his eyes, but then his voice turned cold. “My wife is short a maid. If you are willing, be her maid.”

Shock filled the eyes of the two women. Ning Qingqing’s tears, meant to elicit sympathy, now fell in earnest.

No one could fathom Bai Shengyun’s thoughts behind those deep eyes.

Each of the three harbored their own thoughts, when suddenly a burst of laughter echoed through the air. On the wall, a man had appeared without warning.

“To pursue you wholeheartedly, and you make her a maid—how amusing.” The newcomer was none other than one of the original Xie’s suitors, the Demon Lord Gu Ruohan.

The Demon Lord was every inch the image of virtue, though it was but a facade masking corruption. Dressed in black and red robes, he was striking and debonair, his high ponytail bound with a red ribbon and a white flute at his waist—a proud youth, indeed.

This was not his true form; one had to disguise oneself when traveling. Yet even his false appearance was so outstanding, his true one could only be more dangerously charming.

“Little Yingying, I’ve come for you,” Gu Ruohan called out, his voice bright and youthful.

Before Xie Yingying could react, Bai Shengyun waved his sleeve, sending a blast of icy wind at the Demon Lord. But no wind could be colder than his words: “Your rotten admirers crop up everywhere—what an eyesore.”

Xie Yingying knew Bai Shengyun was not jealous. He never shared what he possessed, but once he tired of something or someone, he would discard it without remorse, leaving you heartbroken and willing, then simply walk away.

She could feel his scorching gaze pressing on her, and, unable to avoid it, met his eyes. That single glance nearly stole her soul—Bai Shengyun’s jade-like features glimmered in the sunlight, his elegant brows furrowed lightly, and his fox-like eyes, long and narrow, flashed with anger and accusation. In the throes of love, a glance like that could spell a lifetime’s downfall.

But however beautiful a fox, it was still a black-hearted fox.

Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, Xie Yingying caught sight of the fan in Bai Shengyun’s hand. Her face blanched, disbelief flooding her eyes.