After Switching Bodies with the Villainous Demon Lord - Chapter 9

It wasn’t like the Demon Realm hadn’t threatened to attack the cultivation world before—this definitely wasn’t the first or second time—but for all the bluster over the years, they’d never actually made a move.

As time dragged on, the various sects of the cultivation world, once wary and on edge, gradually stopped taking the threat seriously.

So no one expected the Demon Realm to suddenly go all-in this time—and to do it right when all the big names from every sect were gathered together for the Grand Ceremony?

Were they out of their minds?

Most of the disciples here had just finished competing, and their blood was still running hot. As soon as they heard the Demon Clan was attacking, they looked ready to go, practically itching for a fight. With so many high-level cultivators on site, how could they possibly lose?

“They’re totally throwing themselves into the meat grinder coming now.”

“Yeah, what were they thinking?”

“Do they seriously think we’re too wiped out from the tournament to fight back, so they’re trying to wipe us all in one go?”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd like bubbling water.

“Brother Li, what’s your plan?” All the other sect leaders turned to Li Qingyuan. The Demon Realm had chosen to attack Cangyu Sect territory, after all—final call should be his. Whether they helped or not was another matter.

Li Qingyuan frowned deeply. Compared to diving straight into battle, he was more cautious by nature. He looked at the disciple who had brought the report. “Did the Demon Lord come?”

The inner sect disciple thought for a moment, then replied hesitantly, “I don’t think so…”

“No?” Li Qingyuan exchanged looks with a few of the other sect leaders. They all saw the same flicker of doubt in each other’s faces. “If the Demon Realm came at a time like this, they clearly had a plan and were confident in their chances. There’s no way the Demon Lord didn’t come.”

He turned to glance at his Shizun standing not far away. The only one here who could go toe-to-toe with the Demon Lord was Duan Ze.

Yet the guy was still busy… staring at that outer sect disciple.

Duan Ze smiled as he looked at Xiao Wuchen, lightly tapping the returned token and communication token, then used divine sense to say, “Do me a favor. Help me get all the demons outside safely back to the Demon Realm.”

“Dream on,” Xiao Wuchen replied, narrowing his eyes as a chill glinted in his gaze.

“Okay then,” Duan Ze shrugged. “No big deal if you won’t help. I’ve got plenty of teleportation talismans anyway. I can leave whenever I want. But don’t be surprised if, come tomorrow, you see the mighty Demon Lord of the Demon Realm wearing a pink floral dress handing out congee in front of Kongxi Temple near Cangyu Sect. For three days straight. Oh, and what kind of skirt do you like? I’ll have it tailored in advance.”

Xiao Wuchen’s face turned pitch-black.

He reached out and grabbed Duan Ze’s nape, tightening his grip enough that with just a little more force, he could snap it. “You really have a death wish.”

The tension between the two was thick, crackling like a coiled storm, but from an outsider’s view… it almost looked like they were shoulder-to-shoulder, whispering sweet nothings.

To Xie Qingyu, watching from the side, that harmonious scene looked like a thorn stabbing into his eyes.

Li Qingyuan was growing anxious, but didn’t dare interrupt. All he could do was widen his eyes and will his Shizun to feel his desperation through sheer force of staring.

“Easy, easy—you wanna live in my body forever?” Duan Ze’s face turned bright red as he gasped out, “And this is how you get struck by lightning, y’know. Too many zaps in a day, and even if you do get back into your body, you’ll end up brain-dead.”

He reached behind with one hand and, using Xiao Wuchen’s hanging sleeve as cover, pinched him right on the soft flesh at the waist.

He knew exactly which spots on his body hurt the most.

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Xiao Wuchen’s brows twitched, and his grip on Duan Ze’s neck loosened slightly.

The Demon Lord took a deep breath, eyes practically overflowing with murderous intent. Each word was forced out between clenched teeth, like he was chewing glass, “What exactly do you want?”

“Already told you,” Duan Ze casually released his pinch, pulled Xiao Wuchen’s hand off his neck, and handed over the token and communication talisman again. “This is for you. We can keep in touch even if we’re apart. You help me this time, and I’ll help you next time.”

Xiao Wuchen paused.

His grudge with Duan Ze couldn’t be explained in just a few sentences—it ran deep. In short, it was irreconcilable.

But with their souls currently switched, they could only use about 30% of their power. If anyone found out, it would spell disaster for both of them.

His vengeance wasn’t fulfilled yet—he absolutely couldn’t die by anyone else’s hand. And as for Duan Ze? He could only die by Xiao Wuchen’s.

Ever since becoming the Demon Lord, attacking Cangyu Sect had been top priority. Not just for revenge—there was something there he needed to retrieve.

Duan Ze might actually be able to help with that.

Xiao Wuchen’s fingers twitched, and finally, with a dark expression, he accepted both items. His eyes glinted with something unreadable. “Anything at all?”

“As long as it doesn’t cross my bottom line,” Duan Ze nodded without much hesitation.

Li Qingyuan was practically burning from the sidelines. After a long wait, he finally got a side glance from his Shizun—but that gaze was so sharp it could slice a man open. “Leave it to me.”

As soon as those words left Xiao Wuchen’s mouth, the tension visibly eased among the crowd—though no one dared make a sound.

The path of the Demon Realm was fundamentally at odds with the righteous cultivation world. They stood on opposing sides from the very beginning and had never once reached a compromise across thousands of years.

Before the current Demon Lord took over, the two realms had maintained a strange equilibrium—hurting and saving, a cycle on repeat.

But then Duan Ze emerged—a once-in-a-generation prodigy—and the balance tipped. Even so, the original host had never led an assault on the Demon Realm.

At first, people had grumbled, saying Duan Ze was too soft. But once the new Demon Lord rose and reached power equal to Duan Ze’s within a few hundred years, any dissatisfaction disappeared. No one mentioned war again.

If Duan Ze didn’t make a move, no one else dared to.

Xiao Wuchen had no parents, no lovers, no heirs—he had no apparent weaknesses. And he was the most powerful Demon Lord in history.

If you wanted him dead, you had to fight him head-on.

Now, the only one who could stand against him was finally going to fight. Everyone figured the end of the Demon Realm was near.

“Shizun, we can fight too.” Li Qingyuan finally couldn’t hold back anymore and offered to help.

Xiao Wuchen glanced coldly at the white-haired man in front of him, then pointed at Duan Ze beside him. “No need. I’ll just take him.”

Without waiting for a reply, he yanked Duan Ze over, crushed a teleportation talisman, and vanished without a trace.

Once it was clear that Xiao Wuchen had left, the disciples from various sects started stirring again.

“High Immortal Duan Ze is finally going to deal with the Demon Clan?”

“Guess we won’t have to worry about our families getting attacked anymore.”

“Shizu’s face just now was so scary, I didn’t even dare to breathe.”

“Maybe he was mad that the Demon Clan interrupted his little chat with that outer sect disciple?”

“Could be. But who is that outer sect guy, anyway? What’s their relationship?”

“Definitely not just some random connection. Did you see how close they were? Even bringing him along to fight the Demon Lord!”

“You think maybe that outer sect guy is actually super strong too?”

Despite all the speculation, no one could reach a conclusion.

Some disciples, curious to the point of torture, couldn’t help but walk over to Xie Qingyu, who looked around their age and seemed easy to talk to.

“Brother Xie, weren’t you the one who came in with that outer sect disciple? Do you know who he is? What’s his relationship with High Immortal Duan Ze?”

Xie Qingyu had been half-distracted, eyes lingering on Xiao Wuchen and Duan Ze’s backs even after they’d disappeared.

His expression was complicated.

He’d realized something that really didn’t sit right.

Thinking back, he’d been in Cangyu Sect for years, but had never seen that outer sect disciple before. At first, he thought the guy was just unimportant—that’s why he didn’t remember.

But based on how close he was to Duan Ze, there was no way someone like that should’ve escaped his memory.

“Brother Xie?” the disciple called again, snapping him out of it.

Xie Qingyu composed himself and smiled politely. “He just said my Shizun sent him. As for their relationship, I’m not sure.”

With his thick brows and inky eyes, the young man looked elegant and refined, and when he smiled, it was like water washing over your soul—gentle and pure. The disciple beside him stared blankly for a moment, cheeks inexplicably warm, then quickly coughed and changed the subject. “I wonder how long this battle will last…”

“Y-Yeah,” others echoed awkwardly, even those who’d previously disliked Xie Qingyu joining in.

While they were still guessing, the two who were supposed to be fighting were actually standing together on a mountainside near the Demon Realm army. Trees loomed darkly on both sides, cold wind whipping their robes.

Duan Ze had already removed the substitute talisman, returning to his appearance as the Demon Lord—complete with a broader frame, narrow waist, and long legs that made him look significantly bigger than his original body.

Problem was… the outer sect robe he wore didn’t stretch. At all. It was tight in all the wrong places, forcing him into a stiff, awkward posture. The sleeves didn’t even reach his wrists. The whole thing just looked tragic.

“By the way, your people seem really worried about you,” Duan Ze said, withdrawing his divine sense from the Demon Realm army and tucking his arms into his sleeves. “I heard someone say earlier you hung up on them mid-message. No wonder they came rushing over.”

Xiao Wuchen stared into the distance, ignoring him.

Duan Ze frowned. “Wait a minute… didn’t they realize your voice was different when you used the communication token?”

He turned to look at Xiao Wuchen with a gaze full of sympathy.

That look made Xiao Wuchen so annoyed he nearly exploded. He snapped, “If you don’t want to go, just say it.”

“No, no, I’m going. If anything comes up, I’ll contact you with the talisman,” Duan Ze replied breezily, cupping his fist toward Xiao Wuchen before turning to leave.

But the moment he twisted his body, there was a loud—

RIPPPPPP—his too-tight robe split open down the back.

Duan Ze, “…”

Xiao Wuchen, “…………”

Duan Ze didn’t move, his voice heavy. “You got any of your clothes with you? Mine are, uh… a bit snug.”

Xiao Wuchen gave him a disdainful look, then dug into his storage ring and handed over several outfits.

His robes were mostly dark-colored, finely stitched, and richly styled. As soon as Duan Ze took them, he felt the weight. This guy wears this heavy stuff every day and doesn’t get tired?

He glanced up at Xiao Wuchen, who looked like he was two seconds from snapping, and decided not to stir the pot anymore. He gave a silent thumbs-up and jogged off toward the Demon Realm army, clothes in hand.

⸻

Author’s Note:

Duan Ze, “The wind that day… was really strong. And really cold.”