Demon Consort Runs into the Beijing Crown Prince - Chapter 1

Chu Muyun was a nobody, a C-list celebrity.

He hadn’t landed a role in over six months and had been stuck at home, growing bored and restless.

But today, he finally had a rare dinner invitation, a hard-won opportunity he’d begged for. If he didn’t secure a new project tonight, he’d have to pack up, quit the industry, and slink back to his hometown.

He barely had enough money to cover next quarter’s rent and would likely be reduced to living on instant noodles soon.

As evening approached, Chu Muyun, who had spent the entire day curled up on his sofa, picked up his phone again to double-check the address and time on WeChat.

Regent Hotel, 8:30 PM.

Time to go all in, Chu Muyun thought.

Tonight, he’d smile, pour drinks, and play the perfect decorative vase. He’d endure being touched and groped—his only line was no hotel rooms.

As he closed WeChat, an old, unread message caught his eye: [Have you made up your mind? President Wang taking an interest in you is a blessing.]

[Too proud? Don’t make me laugh. Do you think you have the luxury of pride? Do you even want to act anymore?]

The sharp-tongued sender was his agent.

Since signing with Tiansheng, Chu Muyun had never been given any good resources. Instead, he was occasionally treated like a pretty commodity, paraded out to accompany Presidents Wang and Li, and other lecherous old men, at drinking parties.

It wasn’t just about drinking. Chu Muyun had heard rumors of a junior artist in the company being drugged by their manager and delivered to a hotel room. Only his own vigilance and firm resistance had prevented the same fate from befalling him.

He wasn’t particularly high-minded. He was fine with meals, but not with sex, and he had a visceral aversion to greasy old men who looked like bloated pigs.

Ever since he refused his manager’s advances, he hadn’t received any acting roles, not even minor gigs. He was effectively blacklisted.

Tiansheng was a major entertainment company with industry recognition. Five years ago, Chu Muyun had signed with great ambition, believing his future in the industry would be bright. The reality was that he suspected he had stumbled into a brothel, wasting five years of his youth. He wanted to terminate his contract and switch companies but couldn’t afford the breach-of-contract fees.

Fortunately, his contract would expire at the end of the month. Chu Muyun could finally bypass the company and seek opportunities on his own. Otherwise, even accepting private acting jobs would be a breach of contract.

“Do you think you have the right to act so high and mighty?”

The words burned into Chu Muyun’s vision. He gritted his teeth, a flicker of darkness crossing his exquisitely shaped peach blossom eyes.

Damn it.

How dare they try to force his hand?

If this manager and so-called President Wang had lived a thousand years ago, he would have had them dragged out and beaten to death with a single word!

Beaten to death!

Yes, Chu Muyun was a transmigrator from ancient times. His previous life had been as the Demon Consort, a bewitching figure who had captivated the Great King’s exclusive favor. A month after the Great King’s death, Chu Muyun had also perished. When he opened his eyes again, he found himself reborn as a newborn in the modern world, forced to relive the entire process of growing up.

Of course, he had attended school and received a modern education. In middle school history class, he had even learned about the infamous deeds of himself and the Great King—the Tyrant and his Demon Consort, those “dog men.” In literature class, he had studied poems by later generations satirizing their relationship, and to add insult to injury, he had to memorize them verbatim.

Over the past millennium, their reputation had been utterly tarnished, relentlessly vilified by scholars. Only in recent times had their image begun to improve, showing signs of historical revisionism.

Modern people didn’t care much about the Great King’s unconventional behavior, focusing instead on his tangible achievements. Online, a surprising number of fans even shipped the Tyrant and Demon Consort as a true love pairing. When Chu Muyun first stumbled upon these fan communities, he was delighted. He spent an entire night reading explicit fanfiction about himself and the Great King, and for days afterward, his dreams were filled with the scenarios imagined by fujoshi.

Later, when their story was adapted into various dramas and films, from historical epics to wildly fictionalized romance series, Chu Muyun’s enthusiasm waned.

It wasn’t just that none of the actors playing the Demon Consort were as handsome as him. None of the “Great Kings” managed to capture the essence of the man he knew.

Chu Muyun swiped his finger across the screen, closing WeChat and returning to his phone’s home screen. The Weibo icon displayed 999+ new notifications.

He couldn’t even be bothered to open it. Aside from a few encouraging messages from his small group of fans, the vast majority would undoubtedly be hate comments.

Even after transmigrating to the modern era and leaving his role as the Demon Consort behind, he was still being vilified.

As an obscure 18th-tier actor, he might not have fame, but he certainly had plenty of haters.

This lingering animosity could be traced back to his past life. Two years prior, a historical palace drama had been released, featuring a top-tier male star portraying his Great King.

Chu Muyun bought his own ticket to the movie. As soon as he left the theater, he couldn’t resist switching to his burner account on Weibo and unleashing a torrent of criticism.

“The actor playing the Martial King is hideous! His face is ugly, his body is scrawny, he slouches like a eunuch… Ugh, what an eyesore! He’s not even worthy to polish the Martial King’s boots. How dare he take this role?”

…Actually, this Top-Tier actor’s portrayal of the Martial King had already been widely criticized. The public generally considered him too pretty, lacking the imposing presence needed to capture the ruthless arrogance of the legendary tyrant. Online reviews were overwhelmingly negative, and the Top-Tier’s fans were working around the clock to defend him, but they couldn’t keep up with the flood of criticism.

However, most of the criticism focused on the actor’s skills and demeanor. Few dared to attack his physical appearance as bluntly as Chu Muyun. His post stood out like a firefly in the night, instantly drawing intense hatred.

“Our oppa is ugly? Are you blind?”

“Take a piss and look in the mirror, you pathetic loser!”

The Top-Tier’s fans first swarmed his burner account, then dug through old photos to uncover his main account—revealing him to be an obscure actor. They immediately mocked him for being desperate for attention and trying to ride their oppa’s coattails.

It had been two years since the incident, yet Chu Muyun still endured relentless cyberbullying from the top-tier idol’s fans. Rain or shine, they tagged him daily with taunts, their private messages even more vile.

His company refused to help him fight back, and he couldn’t possibly argue with the sheer number of haters alone. Since he rarely engaged online anyway, he simply pretended they didn’t exist and ignored them.

Putting down his phone, Chu Muyun rose and went to the bathroom to shower and style his hair. Blessed with flawless skin, he needed minimal makeup, applying only a light moisturizer. In his bedroom, he shed his loungewear and changed into a wine-red shirt and black dress pants, checking his reflection in the full-length mirror.

A sleek black leather belt cinched his slender waist, while a high-end replica four-leaf clover bracelet adorned his pale wrist. Without any genuine luxury watches or jewelry to elevate his look, he had to settle for the imitation piece—though it looked convincing enough at a glance.

Chu Muyun smiled at his reflection.

Hang in there.

He refused to give up.

In the mirror, his face exuded captivating allure, the tear mole at the corner of his left eye flushed slightly, drawing viewers into its depths. Though his features were strikingly bold, the faint smile playing on his lips carried a honeyed sweetness.

Tonight, he had to seize the opportunity to cozy up to a big shot and land a new role. He didn’t care about billing, even a minor character with a few lines would do.

He genuinely wanted to act, unwilling to fade into obscurity.

Chu Muyun was strikingly handsome, flamboyant, and loved to indulge in pleasures. From a young age, he had decided on his path in this life: to become a dazzling superstar, wanting for nothing, spending money like water, and basking in the adoration of millions.

But reality proved harsh. Even with the same stunningly beautiful face from his previous life, a newcomer without connections, backing, or willingness to submit to industry “rules” had struggled for five years without making a breakthrough.

After bolstering his spirits, Chu Muyun changed his pet rabbit’s water, refilled its hay, and topped up its food before leaving.

Watching the large rabbit eat and drink contentedly, he reached out to stroke its soft fur.

It was an Angora rabbit, a massive creature with long, coffee-colored fur that felt wonderfully soft.

Back in the palace, he had kept rabbits for amusement, but they weren’t Angoras. Instead, he had a small white rabbit with fluffy fur—a tiny ball of fluff that would likely have been terrified by the sheer size of an Angora.

The little white rabbit was named Xiao Yun. His Majesty wasn’t particularly fond of animals, but he would occasionally tease it. When holding Xiao Yun, His Majesty would sometimes mix “My beloved consort” with “Xiao Yun,” earning a playful thump on the chest.

“Great King, are you calling me or the rabbit?”

The Angora rabbit he kept now was named Crown Prince. A massive creature with a somewhat fierce face, just like his father.

With both the Imperial Consort and the Crown Prince present, the household currently had two equals one Great King.

Chu Muyun picked up the big rabbit and gave it a vigorous hug, the heavy weight pressing comfortably in his arms.

“Crown Prince, I’m heading out now. Be a good boy and wait for me at home.” He grinned mischievously. “If tonight doesn’t go well and we can’t afford food next month, you’ll become our emergency rations!”

Crown Prince, “…..” (munching)

The Angora rabbit was meticulously cared for, boasting a robust physique, silky fur, and impeccable cleanliness without a trace of odor. Even under Chu Muyun’s “death threat,” he calmly continued chewing his rabbit grass.

Chu Muyun kissed Crown Prince once more, set the large rabbit down to roam freely, straightened his clothes in the hallway mirror, and finally left.

He didn’t own a car, so he hailed a taxi to the Regent Hotel.