Great Demon - Chapter 61

Changying.

When Zhuyou heard the voice, she knew it was her. No wonder her restrictions had been bypassed so effortlessly. 

But why was this dragon so anxious, grabbing her hand the moment she arrived?

It had been a hundred years since they last met, and this was the first time Changying had held her hand—though perhaps “held” wasn’t the right word.

Changying had indeed changed. In her youth, her hands were small, but now, as she pinched Zhuyou’s wrist with two fingers, there was still room to spare.

After exchanging heart’s blood, the dragon’s hands were no longer as cold as before. They were warm, like tea that hadn’t completely cooled—soft and gentle.

Changying’s fingers loosened their grip on Zhuyou’s wrist, and her entire hand covered the back of Zhuyou’s hand.

This pampered dragon’s palm was smooth and soft, her fingers slender and long, enveloping Zhuyou’s hand.

Changying slowly shifted her fingers, almost aligning them with Zhuyou’s, and with a slight pressure, she pressed Zhuyou’s hand onto the Turbid Mirror.

As Zhuyou touched the mirror, a chill ran through her palm.

Zhuyou was momentarily stunned. Although she had intended to enter the mirror, being forced by the dragon felt inappropriate.

Her hand was tightly pressed against Changying’s palm, and a continuous flow of spiritual energy surged between them, cold and unyielding, like a mountain spring, wrapping around her fingers.

The spiritual energy was icy, as if it wouldn’t allow her to retreat.

What was this dragon planning?

Zhuyou’s thoughts were in disarray, too tangled to sort out. She suddenly felt that Changying might be deliberately leading her into the mirror.

Perhaps she was bewitched, but she couldn’t shake the thought that this Nine Heavens Divine Venerable might be guiding her into the Turbid Mirror to find the remaining soul of the Devil Lord.

Changying held her hand firmly, pressing it onto the mirror, forcing Zhuyou to bend forward. As she leaned, her chest inadvertently brushed against Zhuyou’s back.

The softness was unlike the youthful Changying of the past, and it stirred a sense of awkwardness in Zhuyou amidst her tangled thoughts.

Zhuyou immediately shook off Changying’s hand. Though she knew she was no match in strength, she still pushed back against the spiritual energy suppressing her. The cold energy burst forth like a wave.

Her right hand slammed onto the table, causing a loud crack, and the Turbid Mirror was flung into the air by the spiritual energy.

The mirror flipped mid-air and landed back on the table with a thud.

Changying’s expression remained calm, showing no displeasure at having her hand shaken off. She spoke coolly, “Since you wish to enter the Turbid Mirror, wouldn’t it be better with me guiding you?”

Zhuyou turned her head to see Changying standing extremely close, strands of her hair falling onto Zhuyou’s shoulder.

Changying’s sharp eyes showed no trace of softness, only cold indifference, as if everything passed by her like the wind, and she remained unfeeling toward all.

“How do I know you’re not trying to harm me?” Zhuyou said bluntly, as if accusing the Nine Heavens Divine Venerable of being some unscrupulous villain. She didn’t shy away after speaking, thinking that since she couldn’t escape anyway, it was better to be clear, lest the dragon think she was being coy or insincere.

Changying frowned, her voice cold, “Why would I harm you?”

Zhuyou naturally didn’t believe her and narrowed her eyes in scrutiny.

“Do you know the consequences of entering this mirror without permission?” Changying asked, knowing she couldn’t defend herself.

Zhuyou did know. Though ancient texts didn’t record it, she was aware that entering the mirror would separate her soul from her body, placing her in great danger.

“Your greed, anger, and desires will all be reflected in the Turbid Mirror. Everything you see will be influenced by your cravings, and without guidance, you could drown in it,” Changying explained slowly. After a pause, she added, “If I guide you, there’s no need to worry. But once inside, you must not be more than three steps away from me.”

She sounded so confident, as if she had grown powerful. Back in the day, she needed someone to lead her by the hand.

Zhuyou narrowed her eyes and said leisurely, “How impressive. It seems you’ve forgotten some things after becoming the Nine Heavens Divine Venerable.”

“What have I forgotten?” Changying looked down at her, not stepping back, only slightly straightening her posture, her front robe brushing against Zhuyou’s back.

She seemed as if she wanted to envelop the devil before her in her arms, but she didn’t. The hand that had been shaken off now rested properly on the edge of the table.

Zhuyou, having been a devil for so many years, had never felt like this before—as if she were at a disadvantage and couldn’t break free.

Perhaps Changying’s slight restraint made her think she still had a chance, so she didn’t feel much fear.

“Have you forgotten that over a hundred years ago, I was the one who hatched you?” Zhuyou said slowly.

Changying’s face showed no smile, her expression still cold, but a flicker of memory seemed to stir in her eyes. She nodded, “It was indeed you.”

“Your dragon bones have hardened, and now you don’t know how to respect me, even trying to play games with me,” Zhuyou said.

Changying was momentarily speechless, then after a while, she asked, “How should I respect you?”

This part of her hadn’t changed—still asking questions when she didn’t understand, as diligent as ever.

Zhuyou, thinking she genuinely didn’t know, said slowly, “You should act like how mortals treat their young.”

Changying hesitated, her face expressionless. “You want me to guard the house?”

Zhuyou was at a loss for words. She was thinking along the lines of how to deal with disobedient children and never expected this dragon to compare herself to a guard dog.

Changying seemed to realize she was being teased. Her brows furrowed slightly, and she hid the sharpness in her eyes. Her pale lips parted, “I truly don’t wish to harm you.”

“If you wanted to harm me, I’d probably be dead before I even realized it,” Zhuyou said with a hint of sarcasm, though her tone was flat, not at all like she was joking.

She indeed harbored reservations about this dragon. Even though she had raised her, Changying was still the Nine Heavens Divine Venerable. How could Zhuyou not be wary?

“I won’t harm you,” Changying repeated, her pale lips moving slightly. “I’ve already said so.”

Her face was still devoid of color, her lips pale, but her demeanor was anything but frail. Her tone was firm, a far cry from the delicate, pitiable child she once was, who had evoked such tender affection.

Zhuyou naturally didn’t believe her. She had trusted too much in the past, and that had led her down a path of endless mistakes, plunging her into this abyss of despair.

“You still don’t trust me,” Changying said coldly, noticing the distance in Zhuyou’s eyes.

Zhuyou quietly pondered where she could flee to if she took the mirror and escaped now. She glanced toward the door and asked, “Did you harm Hanzhu?”

Changying’s eyes darkened. A hundred years apart, and this devil seemed to care more and more about the peacock demon. “I didn’t harm her,” she said, pausing before adding, “Not a single hair on her head.”

Zhuyou twirled her fingers, leaning slightly toward the table to create some distance. The passive posture made her feel as if she were being pulled into an embrace. Her eyes flickered as she carefully chose her words, “A hundred years ago, I abandoned you. Don’t you resent me?”

After speaking, she turned her head, her face nearly touching the table, openly scrutinizing Changying’s expression.

This close, and with the room brightly lit, she could finally see Changying’s face clearly since their parting at Cold Eye.

She had indeed grown. Upon closer inspection, her features bore a faint resemblance to her childhood self, and the small mole on the tip of her nose was still there.

That tiny mole seemed like a blade, shaving away much of the sharpness in her demeanor.

Changying’s cultivation was indeed profound, befitting the Nine Heavens Divine Venerable. No wonder others found it painful to look directly at her. Zhuyou only felt a warmth in her eyes, barely managing to remain unaffected.

Upon hearing Zhuyou’s words, Changying’s golden eyes suddenly shifted into dragon pupils, the vertical slits sharp and intimidating. It was as if she were angry, barely restraining the fierce energy within her.

Zhuyou thought to herself that the dragon must still hold some affection for her, even if only a little. Otherwise, why would Changying’s expression turn cold at the mention of events from a hundred years ago?

Changying was like a fledgling bird, opening her eyes to see Zhuyou first, and thus imprinting on her.

But such feelings should have faded by now. As the Nine Heavens Divine Venerable, how could she still act like a child, sulking over being neglected?

Wasn’t she sulking? Her pupils had changed, yet she hadn’t said a word, nor had she lashed out in anger.

Zhuyou pondered for a moment before asking again, “Do you really not resent me?”

Changying’s breathing suddenly quickened, and the spiritual energy around her caused a vase in the corner to shatter. Her mind was in turmoil, replaying Zhuyou’s words.

Had Zhuyou really abandoned her? Was it truly her decision?

No…

She nearly lost control, but she quickly pulled herself back to the present, remembering that Zhuyou had been gravely injured at the time, likely delirious. How could she have had the strength to tell Hanzhu not to bring her along?

Changying pressed her lips together, staring intently at the devil before her. Even if Zhuyou admitted it was Hanzhu’s idea, she… wouldn’t have truly harmed her.

After all, Hanzhu was the attendant Zhuyou had insisted on retrieving after her fall into devilhood. How could Changying have truly struck her down?

She remained silent for a long time, her eyes fixed on Zhuyou, before finally saying, “I did resent you.”

She had resented her at first, when she was abandoned. But then, as a thousand years of memories flooded her mind, she had no time to dwell on resentment. Later, realizing Zhuyou had been in no state to care for her, the resentment faded.

She had bathed in divine light for seven days, hoping Zhuyou, wherever she was, would recover quickly. Then she had secluded herself for a hundred years, not just for the sake of the Three Realms or herself, but also for this elusive bird.

In the past, she had felt uneasy if she couldn’t see Zhuyou for even a moment. But after spending so much time alone in the heavens, she had grown accustomed to solitude, no longer feeling lonely or bored.

Hearing Changying say she had resented her stirred something strange in Zhuyou’s heart.

Having been a devil for two hundred years, she knew devils shouldn’t be sentimental or concerned with such matters. Yet, it felt as if a hole had been carved into her heart, and the blood at its tip turned cold.

Was it because the heart’s blood was influenced by its original owner?

Her eyes flickered as she said slowly, “A hundred years have passed. It’s all in the past. There’s no need to hold a grudge.”

Changying’s chest heaved, and a flicker of surprise crossed her eyes. She suppressed the turmoil in her heart, swallowing down the questions that rose in her throat, and instead said, “I don’t hold a grudge.”

“Then what do you want now?” Zhuyou’s hand on the table twitched, her fingers brushing the edge of the Turbid Mirror, intending to distance herself while Changying was distracted.

But Changying remained focused, staring at her intently, her pupils already returned to normal. Calmly, she said, “I know everything, and I will make the appropriate decisions.”

Before Zhuyou could react, the Turbid Mirror was flipped back, slamming onto the table with a thud that shook the wooden surface.

Zhuyou had planned to dissolve into smoke and escape, but Changying suddenly interlaced her fingers with Zhuyou’s, forcing her hand onto the mirror.

The moment she touched the mirror, Zhuyou felt as if her soul was being pulled into it. Changying’s spiritual energy made it impossible to escape, and she… was forcibly pressed into the Turbid Mirror.

As she entered the mirror, it was as if she had fallen into chaos. Everything before her eyes twisted together like smoke.

Figures intertwined, mountains and seas overlapped, and the sun and moon seemed to merge into one.

The surroundings alternated between extreme cold and scorching heat, one moment icy, the next boiling. Even the paths before her were tangled—forest trails, city streets, and mountain paths all jumbled together, as if countless realms had been stacked atop one another.

Zhuyou looked up sharply to see upside-down stone towers and wooden houses above her. After a moment, she felt dizzy, unable to distinguish sky from earth or east from west.

In this disorientation, she suddenly wondered: Had Changying entered the mirror with her?

It is said that passing through the Turbid Mirror allows one to revisit the past. So, would she return to Changying’s past, or her own?

Would the Turbid Mirror grant her wishes, or Changying’s?

She had intended to use her spiritual energy to propel herself forward, but found she couldn’t even lift an inch. Her cultivation seemed utterly useless here, leaving her to wander aimlessly.

Dizzy and disoriented, Zhuyou walked straight ahead, sometimes stepping over rocky terrain, other times nearly sinking into muddy marshes. After a few more steps, she found herself treading on the palace roads of the Mortal Realm.

At times, clouds and mist surrounded her; at others, she walked under the glow of the moon. After a while, the moon hung directly above her head.

She couldn’t tell day from night, nor whether she was walking in the heavens or on earth. Everything around her seemed like primordial chaos.

After a while, the houses disappeared, and she saw a barren land. When she looked up, she saw an endless sea.

Beneath her feet was an expanse of sand dunes, yet above her head stretched a vast ocean. Listening closely, she could hear the distant neighing of heavenly horses.

Zhuyou followed the sound and suddenly caught sight of blinding divine light shooting out like arrows in all directions. The arrows were short, and upon closer inspection, she realized they were feathers wrapped in flames.

Her heart raced as she stared at the net of fiery feathers descending upon her. Her breathing grew rapid.

Yet her mind was blank, unsure why she felt such unease.

The feathers rained down on a devil army, each soldier adorned with devil horns and covered in devilish markings… It was the ancient Devil Clan.

Zhuyou’s mouth fell open slightly, her chest numb from the pounding of her heart. Her ears rang, and her vision blurred. She thought to herself, could this be the time of the great war between gods and devils?

But why could she see it?

Just as she tried to focus, the world spun again. The feathers and devil soldiers seemed to swirl into a chaotic mass, and when it cleared, the scene before her had changed.

The sand dunes were gone, and the sea above had vanished. The fiery feathers and devil soldiers were nowhere to be seen.

She felt a sudden sense of loss, as if what she had just seen was what she was meant to witness.

But what was before her now?

To her surprise, she found herself back at Mount Danxue, the place of her birth.

***

Outside the Turbid Mirror, the overwhelming pressure that had accompanied Changying’s entry into the mirror suddenly disappeared. The wind, which had been suspended mid-air, began to blow again, carrying scattered leaves far into the distance.

On the wooden stairs of the inn, a waiter who had been frozen mid-step finally placed his foot down, unaware of what had just happened, and hurried downstairs.

Outside the room, Hanzhu breathed a sigh of relief, as if she had narrowly escaped death. She touched her face, finding it cold, and then remembered the dragon had entered the room. Her heart leapt into her throat.

If it had been a hundred years ago, she might have believed the dragon wouldn’t harm her mistress. But now, after their reunion, the dragon’s cultivation was unfathomably deep. With just a glance, the entire area had fallen into stillness.

Though the pressure had lifted, her legs were still weak. She had no idea how her mistress was faring.

Gritting her teeth, she rushed to push open the door, expecting to be struck by the restrictions and left half-dead. But to her surprise, when she placed her hand on the door, she felt no pain.

The restrictions were still in place—otherwise, she wouldn’t have been unable to open the door.

But these restrictions were different from before. If they had been set by her mistress, she would have been bloodied and battered by now. Yet this time… she simply couldn’t push the door open.

She guessed these restrictions had been set by Changying. The dragon, who seemed as cold and unfeeling as ice, with a demeanor that suggested she would kill any devil in her path, had surprisingly spared her.

Hanzhu pushed the door a few more times, but it remained firmly shut. She wondered, if Changying knew that it had been her own decision a hundred years ago not to bring her along, would the dragon still have shown such mercy? Would she still have spared her?

***

Inside the room, where the door remained closed, two bodies lay motionless. The souls of both the god and the devil had left their bodies, entering the Turbid Mirror together.

Within the Turbid Mirror, Zhuyou didn’t understand why she was seeing Mount Danxue. Could it be that Changying wanted to see it?

But as she looked around, she saw no sign of Changying. She had no idea where the dragon was hiding.

She only felt that something was off about Mount Danxue, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was. The more she couldn’t understand, the more she wanted to figure it out.

After stepping into this realm, the chaotic world behind her began to change, as if she had truly returned to Mount Danxue.

Mount Danxue was bathed in colorful light, the entire mountain glowing red, as if illuminated by some joyous occasion.

Zhuyou couldn’t recall any such celebration on Mount Danxue. Perhaps there had been one, but by then, she had already fallen into devilhood.

The closer she got to the mountain, the heavier her head felt, her consciousness foggy, as if shrouded in mist.

As soon as she entered the mountain, she was surrounded by a group of magpie immortals, chattering about a dragon-phoenix wedding and how she needed to be properly dressed and made up.

Dazed, she thought to herself, What dragon-phoenix wedding? Back then, she had been betrothed to the Dragon Clan, but after failing her tribulation, losing her cultivation, and being blinded, the Dragon Clan had looked down on her and called off the engagement. Later, the marriage had still taken place, but the bride had been Jingyi, who had regained her three hun souls and seven po souls.

If Jingyi was the one getting married, why were these immortals bothering her?

Zhuyou’s head spun, and she couldn’t break free from their grasp. When she saw the wedding robes, she suddenly forgot some things.

Her mind was empty, unable to distinguish illusion from reality.

No, she had to leave.

But before she could turn around, her consciousness seemed to be completely drained.

She stood there in a daze, being dressed in a bright red wedding gown and pushed in front of a bronze mirror. The reflection showed her with jet-black hair and snow-white skin, stunningly beautiful.

Suddenly, she came to her senses, as if remembering who she was—the Vermillion Phoenix of the Nine Heavens.

She had to leave. She turned and ran down the mountain, driven by some inner urge, though she didn’t know why she was running or where she was going.

After leaving Mount Danxue, Zhuyou hurried into the Mortal Realm, tossing aside the red veil as she went.

Not far away, a loud crash echoed, and dust filled the air, as if something had fallen from the sky.

Zhuyou paused, then decided to take a closer look.

What she saw was an egg.

She felt a strange familiarity with the egg, but couldn’t recall why.

In her daze, a voice seemed to ask, If no one had slandered you two hundred years ago, what kind of life would you have wished for?

Zhuyou froze. Who was trying to bewitch her? Who was it?