Great Demon - Chapter 45

Hanzhu was almost scared out of her wits by Changying’s words. She had been in the wrong first—she shouldn’t have gone outside the hall gates to catch the breeze. Now, she naturally didn’t dare to speak and could only sneak a glance at Changying.

Changying was no longer the naive child she once was. Though still young in age, there was no denying that her cold and sharp demeanor was quite deceptive.

Hanzhu keenly noticed the dragon’s hostility toward her. Every time she got a little closer to Mistress, the dragon would eye her coldly, as if guarding its food. The more it acted this way, the more she felt that such a creature shouldn’t be kept around—at least, not so close.

She was devoted to her mistress and wouldn’t allow even the slightest danger to befall her.

Now, those spies from the Heavenly Realm seemed to have come for the Devil Lord. But who could say for sure they wouldn’t also take the opportunity to retrieve the stolen dragon from the Dragon Palace? If that happened, a battle would be inevitable.

What an unwarranted disaster. Hanzhu regretted it deeply—she should have risked her life to stop her mistress back then, should never have let her pick up this dragon.

On the soft couch, Changying gave a small nod and didn’t pursue the matter further. Since it wasn’t something she needed to learn, she didn’t even show a shred of curiosity.

Zhuyou watched her obediently nod and found it somewhat regrettable. This was the problem with the dragon growing up—it was no longer as clingy as when it was a child. Back then, the little one would insist on holding her hand, even hugging her leg when it was younger. But now, it neither held her hand nor tried to stick close to her.

In its infancy, it had been so well-behaved—small enough for her to hold in her arms. Though its body had been as cold as ice, it was still soft, delicate, and utterly adorable.

Zhuyou tapped her fingers on the couch’s armrest, then casually rested her wrist on Changying’s shoulder.

Though the dragon’s shoulders and back weren’t as fragile as before, they were still thin—like the pages of a book, as if a little force could tear them apart.

Changying sat there obediently, her appearance vastly different from childhood, yet her temperament unchanged. She kept a cold expression, unmoving as Zhuyou rested her hand on her shoulder, making her seem especially docile.

Outside the hall doors, Jing Kexin, who had been tied up, shouted twice, as if unwilling to be taken away by Hanzhu.

After a while, the shouting faded, and even the sound of footsteps disappeared.

Zhuyou’s gaze darkened as she rubbed her fingers in thought.

She had deliberately instructed Hanzhu to throw Jing Kexin into the snake pit. The pit was located on the outskirts of the devil’s domain, a hard-to-find place. Leaving her there was ideal—it would prevent the Heavenly Realm’s spies from tracking her down.

Those spies weren’t bad-looking. If Jing Kexin returned to the flower boat, who knew if she might be enchanted by them and foolishly hand over the Devil Lord’s two stolen souls?

Zhuyou was deeply worried that Jing Kexin might betray them, so she had her removed. As for Xuanjing and Luo Qing, she wasn’t concerned—those two devils were shrewd.

Now, with two of the Devil Lord’s souls recovered, only one remained. Once all three were reunited, the former ruler of the devil’s domain could return.

For the devil’s domain, this was undoubtedly a joyous event—but for the Heavenly Realm, it was not.

The Heavenly Realm had long sought to eliminate the devils beyond Shangxi City. With the Devil-Suppressing Tower destroyed, they would inevitably build another, determined to imprison all the wicked devils underground and claim that sunless wasteland as their own..

Thus, from the Heavenly Realm’s perspective, the Devil Lord could not be allowed to return. They would do everything in their power to stop his resurrection.

Zhuyou squeezed Changying’s shoulder absentmindedly, then casually brushed back a strand of her hair. When the strand moved, Changying seemed to feel a tickle—her pale ear twitched slightly.

Changying turned to look at her. “Do I still need to read this book?” she asked.

“I’ll take you somewhere first. You can read it later,” Zhuyou said, standing up. Her hand remained on Changying’s shoulder, prompting her to rise as well.

Her arms were thin and frail, almost as if she had endured some form of torment. If she were an ordinary girl of this age, how could she still be so slender?

Changying’s head barely reached Zhuyou’s shoulder. Zhuyou glanced down and was suddenly struck by a thought—

She had the urge to ruffle Changying’s black hair, just to see if she still had two whorls at the crown, like when she was a child.

But she didn’t lift her hand. Instead, she led Changying toward the Heart-Questioning Rock.

***

The desert was shrouded in darkness—there was no sunlight, no moonlight. Withered trees, eerie as ghosts, stood alone amidst the sand dunes. The wind blew ceaselessly, carrying dust through the air. 

Outside the Heart-Questioning Rock, silence reigned. It was as if the wind had been blocked out. Though water flowed, it made no sound. The bird perched on the withered tree opened and closed its beak, yet no noise emerged.

Zhuyou landed lightly on the sand dunes, releasing her grip on Changying’s shoulder.

Changying’s feet touched the ground. Noticing the absence of Zhuyou’s hand, she instinctively pressed her shoulder against Zhuyou’s arm, as if seeking reassurance.

Zhuyou felt the touch directly. Looking down, she saw Changying quickly avert her gaze, pretending to be indifferent even as she clearly sought closeness.

Zhuyou chuckled inwardly and used her index finger to lightly scrape Changying’s cold little face.

Changying didn’t react, her expression remaining calm.

Seeing no resistance, Zhuyou imitated Luo Qing’s technique, casting the spell to unlock the Heart-Questioning Rock’s restriction. Her fingers moved in an intricate pattern, devilish energy swirling like mist. As the spell took effect, the glowing barrier outside the rock suddenly disappeared.

In that instant, she pressed her palm against Changying’s back. Caught off guard, Changying stumbled a step forward, and Zhuyou followed her into the restricted area.

Inside, the atmosphere was even more eerily quiet. The piled-up rocks stood in stark contrast to the surrounding desert, as if they had been transported from elsewhere.

Zhuyou glanced back and saw the restriction gradually reforming, becoming an invisible wall once again.

Changying, already slow-moving, struggled even more on the shifting sands, her legs seemingly weak. Even after receiving fresh heart’s blood, her body hadn’t fully recovered. As she crawled into the cave, she gasped for breath several times.

Inside, lanterns burned, their flames illuminating the spiritual stones embedded in the rock walls, making them gleam brilliantly. Half of the wall, however, was bare—clearly, someone had pried the stones away.

Zhuyou pointed at the empty section and said, “I took those spirit stones earlier, worried you’d go hungry. But it turns out, you’re quite picky.”

Changying looked in the direction she pointed, her expression a bit dazed. After a moment, she murmured, “This place… feels familiar.”

Zhuyou thought, Of course, it should.

Back then, she had carried that egg with her wherever she went. And it was here, inside the Heart-Questioning Rock, that the shell had first cracked—leaving two small holes.

“I thought you wouldn’t even touch the spirit stones I extorted back, let alone consume them all before I even needed them.” Zhuyou sighed deeply.

Changying, however, showed no shame. She remained cold-faced, standing with an air of nonchalance.

In the distance, the damp coffin was half-exposed in the still water, shrouded in darkness. Yet, Zhuyou did not open it. Instead, she used her spiritual power to lift a wooden box from the depths.

As soon as the wooden box was opened, the Crystal of Law inside flared up with brilliant firelight. The heat surged outward like boiling waves.

Zhuyou raised a hand, instinctively shielding Changying behind her with one arm. The sheer fabric of her sleeve fluttered with a sharp rustle, lifted by the scorching wind.

The flames on the Crystal of Law did not subside. Instead, they burned even more fiercely, illuminating the two hun souls fused within it in a vivid crimson glow.

The fire was her phoenix flames, left behind from before. Now that she was within the Heart-Questioning Rock, her spiritual power had recovered somewhat, causing the fire to burn even stronger.

With a flick of her finger, the Crystal of Law in the wooden box suddenly rose into the air, as if lifted by an invisible force, and landed steadily in her palm.

“What is that?” Changying asked, watching as Zhuyou clenched her fingers around the object, securing it tightly. She had no idea what kind of rare artifact it was. Although she didn’t recognize it, a twitch formed at her temple, an inexplicable restlessness creeping over her. She had an instinctive feeling that this was no good thing. Still, her expression remained unchanged as she fixed her gaze on Zhuyou’s pale hand, as if she could bore through it with her eyes to see what was hidden inside.

Zhuyou did not notice the rejection in Changying’s gaze. With a turn of her hand, the Crystal of Law disappeared into her mustard seed space.

“A treasure that must not be handed over to others,” she said.

Now that the object was put away and out of sight, Changying finally withdrew her lingering gaze from Zhuyou’s hand, slowly and deliberately.

Zhuyou carefully stored the Crystal of Law before turning back to look at the now-empty wooden box floating on the water. She didn’t bother conjuring a fake to replace it. Instead, she simply waved her hand, closing the box’s lid.

As she withdrew her spiritual power, the box gradually sank back to the lake’s depths, vanishing in an instant.

Zhuyou pinched a tiny mustard seed between her fingers, rolling it as if it were nothing more than ash.

“What kind of treasure?” Changying lifted her eyes, glancing toward the small mustard seed.

Zhuyou smirked and replied vaguely, “Something powerful.”

She cast a deep look at the Devil Lord’s coffin before tucking the mustard seed into her sleeve. Then, with a flick of her fingers, the ceiling above them split open into a swirl of black mist, resembling a wide, unblinking eye.

Just as Changying was about to press for more details about this “powerful” object, a firm grip seized her shoulder. In the next moment, her feet left the ground.

She snapped her lips shut as the devil beside her hauled her into the air, dragging her straight into the inky darkness of the mist.

Zhuyou didn’t hesitate, pulling Changying into the devil mist. As they entered, the surrounding devilish aura constricted tightly around them.

The mist first shrank to the size of a fist, then dwindled further to a mere grain of rice, until finally, it vanished completely, leaving no trace behind in the Heart-Questioning Rock.

***

Meanwhile, the human world remained blanketed in heavy snow. A vast stretch of white covered the land, and the snow-capped peaks blended seamlessly with the pale, misty sky. The round sun was obscured by clouds, visible only as a faint halo of light.

The moment they emerged from the devil mist’s secluded realm, they found themselves outside Songling City in the Mortal Realm. Here, the snowfall would continue until the following year, and even in spring, when the snow stopped, the boundless ice might not fully melt.

Changying recognized this place. As she surveyed the familiar surroundings, she turned her head and, sure enough, caught sight of the grand, palace-like Huacheng Sect.

Disciples from other sects were exiting Huacheng Sect’s mountain gate. It seemed that no one from this small sect had managed to enter Shenhua Mountain, so they had no choice but to leave first.

Among them was a female disciple from the same sect as the Devil Lord’s reincarnated hun soul. She followed the group out but kept glancing back anxiously, her brows furrowed with worry. “Our shidi hasn’t come out yet. Why don’t we wait a little longer?”

A male cultivator, who had always looked down on the foolish shidi, scoffed coldly. “Do you really think he has the ability to enter Shenhua Mountain? Even if he made it in, would he have the luck to come out alive?”

The female disciple gritted her teeth, halting abruptly, refusing to take another step forward. “You never thought much of him from the beginning. Now that he’s been down there for so long, he must have entered the mountain! And yet you’re saying we should just leave? Do you truly have no sense of camaraderie at all?”

Several other disciples also hesitated, their faces filled with concern as they turned back to look at the frozen bridge behind them.

The male cultivator sneered, his expression full of disdain. “Shimei, let’s be honest—if our shizun were here, he’d shake his head, too. Think about it, what level of cultivation does that fool even have? Shenhua Mountain is teeming with demon beasts. Any random one could eat him alive. What do you think he’s doing down there? He’s just asking for trouble.”

“But the heavens have granted this rare opportunity, and the lake hasn’t frozen over yet! Those inside still have a chance to come out. What’s the harm in waiting one more day?” The female disciple’s eyes reddened, and tears spilled like beads from a broken string. “If our shidi manages to return, how heartbroken would he be to find us gone?”

The male cultivator smirked. “If you trust him so much, then stay and wait. I’m heading back to the sect. Our shizun already said we shouldn’t linger outside for too long. If you want to stay, suit yourself.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the other disciples, who had been wavering, exchanged uneasy glances before finally stepping forward.

Once they took that step, it meant they had chosen not to stay behind.

The female disciple clenched her teeth, her eyes burning red as her tear-streaked face hardened with resolve. She wiped her face and turned away.

The male cultivator chuckled coldly before walking off without looking back.

From afar, Zhuyou stood watching. Her cascading silver hair gleamed, and the black devilish markings on her white robes twisted like vines. She turned to Changying, who now stood shoulder-high to her.

She had initially intended to have Changying take on her dragon form. But at the thought of the colossal dragon in Shenhua Mountain, the one that had crashed down with such force that it left deep trenches in the ground, she couldn’t help but take a sharp breath.

A dragon of that size would cause a grand spectacle when falling from the sky, shaking the earth and shattering mountains. The deafening crash still rang in her ears…

Forget it. If her dragon form was going to be like that, it was better not to transform at all. There was no way such a massive creature could still coil around her wrist.

Zhuyou sighed with some regret but held onto a sliver of hope. She asked, “Can you shrink your original form any smaller?”

Changying stood weakly beside her, looking pale and sickly. She nodded.

Suddenly, Zhuyou felt her hand being grasped. The dragon claw clamped tightly around her palm, as if refusing to let go.

Before she could react, her vision went blank. The frail and ghostly dragon girl abruptly disappeared.

Then, something heavy weighed down on her wrist.

She looked down—sure enough, a familiar little black dragon had appeared.

Unlike when she was a child, the dragon’s scales were now even more radiant, a pair of dragon horns had grown atop its head, and even its four claws were fully developed.

The powerful dragon claws did not grasp her arm but remained slightly curled, as if afraid of scratching her.

How obedient. Zhuyou placed her pale fingertip lightly on Changying’s forehead, just a soft touch before withdrawing her hand.

In the distance, the ice bridge stretched only a short length, with a jade-like crane sculpture on one side, so lifelike that it seemed to be preening its feathers.

The female disciple turned, wiping her tears away. She glanced back, her heart full of sorrow—no one, not a single person, had stayed for her. She bit her lower lip and was just about to step onto the bridge when she suddenly lurched forward, as if she had collided with something.

Her eyes widened in shock, then half-lidded again in an instant. Tears welled in her reddened eyes but did not fall. The anger and guilt on her face vanished completely, as if she had become an entirely different person.

Her body remained unchanged, but her soul had been forcibly taken, leaving her under someone else’s control.

The one who had taken over her body was Zhuyou. She brushed aside the strands of hair covering her new face’s vision. The once pitiful girl now exuded an air of ethereal detachment, with no trace of frailty left. With a slight crook of her finger, a black serpent-like dragon slithered across the ice, its four claws carving deep, jagged marks into the frozen ground.

Changying had horns, and all four claws were fully formed, yet it still struggled to fly. It could only crawl across the ice, looking utterly pitiful.

Amid the vast whiteness of the snowy landscape, its body was covered in black scales, a stark contrast to the frozen world around it.

Zhuyou flipped her palm upward, waiting for Changying to coil around her.

The black dragon on the ice suddenly sprang up. Its golden eyes were cold and emotionless, its presence as mighty as if it were soaring toward the heavens—yet it did not ascend. Instead, it limply landed on Zhuyou’s wrist, coiling its tail tightly around her arm.

On the other side of the bridge, disciples from another sect were emerging one after another. These were people who had been unable to enter Shenhua Mountain.

One of them, seeing Zhuyou standing alone, asked, “Why haven’t you left with the rest of your sect’s disciples?”

Zhuyou pondered whether she should squeeze out a tear to act the part or simply ignore them. Hiding her dragon-wrapped wrist behind her back, she furrowed her slender brows slightly, putting on a truly pitiful expression. “My shidi hasn’t come out yet. I need to go back and find him.”

The person nodded slightly and did not inquire further, following the crowd as they moved away.

Zhuyou crossed the ice bridge, presented an invitation, and re-entered Huacheng Sect with Changying.

She had not come to challenge Shenhua Mountain again. The mountain was likely guarded by immortals now, and besides, there was nothing left inside worth making another attempt for.

Changying, coiled around her wrist, shifted slightly. The rough texture of her hardened scales scraped gently against Zhuyou’s skin as a voice resonated in her mind. Why have you returned here?

“To retrieve something,” Zhuyou replied as she maneuvered past several disciples. She rode the wind upward, her movements as light as the drifting snow around her. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she spoke with such natural ease, as if she were simply reclaiming what was rightfully hers.

But Changying knew better—this devil had never left anything behind in the Mortal Realm. Whatever she sought must belong to someone else.

Zhuyou moved swiftly with the wind, heading directly for the main peak. The snowfall swirled around her, but none touched her. With a delicate push off her toes, she landed effortlessly on the peak’s tower spire.

Inside the highest level of the tower, there was only a primordial spirit. Judging by the aura and cultivation level, it was likely Zhou Xizhao.

Zhuyou stroked Changying twice in a soothing motion before abruptly plunging downward. She passed straight through the green tiles of the tower’s roof and landed inside.

At the tower’s summit, the luminous night pearl glowed steadily. Zhou Xizhao, dressed in white, remained seated cross-legged on a meditation cushion. Though he heard the sound of her arrival, he did not turn his head. Instead, he sent a burst of spiritual energy toward the intruder behind him.

Zhuyou concealed her presence and reached for the Heaven-Observing Mirror on the table. She did not evade his attack. Instead, she raised her hand slightly, and the fierce gust of spiritual power dissipated at her fingertips, dissolving as though neutralized.

The difference between humans and immortal devils was precisely this.

Zhou Xizhao had not expected his attack to land on nothing. His shoulders and neck tensed, his voice sharp with vigilance. “Who’s there?”

Zhuyou spread her fingers wide, and in an instant, a pitch-black cloth covered the Heaven-Observing Mirror. Without hesitation, she tucked the now-concealed mirror into her robes and suddenly stepped forward, positioning herself directly in front of Zhou Xizhao.

She could not understand—why did this man refuse to turn around? Was he hideous beyond bearing, or was there another reason?

Zhou Xizhao felt the air shift before him, yet he could not see even a shadow. Holding his breath, he spoke coldly, “Stop playing tricks.”

Zhuyou slowly bent down, her gaze locking onto Zhou Xizhao’s nearly pitch-black eyes.

The sect master of Huacheng Sect had devil’s eyes.

When had he become tainted by the devil’s path? Could it have been a hundred years ago, when he entered Shenhua Mountain to save his disciple?