Great Demon - Chapter 63

What hasn’t changed?

Changying was stumped by the question, momentarily at a loss for how to respond. It seemed as though nothing about her had changed, yet at the same time, everything had. A faint trace of bewilderment flickered in her usually indifferent eyes. Her gaze dropped, landing on Zhuyou’s slender wrist.

She wanted to say that from a century ago until now, her desire to be close to Zhuyou had never changed.

She didn’t know what mortals called this feeling, or how they described such emotions, but for her, it had remained constant for a hundred years.

Perhaps it was the way Changying’s gaze remained unwaveringly fixed that made Zhuyou feel a sudden tightness in her chest.

Zhuyou felt a momentary panic, but then, recalling the visions she had seen while trapped in the chaotic realm of illusions, she suppressed the strange feeling in her heart and teased, “Could it be that your clingy, childish nature hasn’t changed?”

She paused, then added, “When I was trapped in the chaotic realm earlier, were you awake the whole time?”

“Yes,” Changying admitted without hesitation. “This mirror couldn’t blind me.”

“Then why didn’t you wake me?” Zhuyou frowned. “You let me be fooled by the mirror for no reason.”

As soon as she said it, she choked on her own words.

After a hundred years, she still found it effortless to boss this dragon around, especially since the dragon always seemed so compliant.

Hearing this, the corner of Changying’s mouth twitched slightly, though her expression remained largely unchanged. It was as if she wanted to smile, but no trace of joy could be seen on her face. “I bit you, but you didn’t wake up. Instead, you trapped me in a bowl,” she said, pausing briefly before adding, “Isn’t that exactly the same as a hundred years ago?”

“It is similar,” Zhuyou admitted, her heart pounding as if struck by deer antlers. Reflecting on what she had just experienced, she felt that the Turbid Mirror was indeed a master of deception. It seemed to have combed through her mind, dredging up everything she cared about and clung to, nearly drowning her in the process.

When Changying heard her acknowledgment, the spot on her throat where a scale was missing tingled slightly, as if someone had gently stroked it, bringing her a sense of deep comfort.

“But since we both entered this place together, why did the Turbid Mirror single me out?” Zhuyou asked, suspicion lingering in her voice.

Changying answered frankly, “My heart is clear.”

Zhuyou couldn’t fathom how this dragon could claim to have a “clear heart.”

Back in the Heavenly Palace, Changying had known she took the Turbid Mirror but didn’t stop her. Instead, she had even opened the Cold Eye to let her take the sacred herb. Now, descending to the Mortal Realm, ostensibly to retrieve the mirror, Changying had still allowed her to be trapped within it.

With all this in mind, how could a Nine Heavens Divine Venerable like her have the audacity to claim a “clear heart”? What kind of deity would go to such lengths for a devil?

Zhuyou scoffed, “Just say my heart is unclear. No need to beat around the bush.”

“I never said that. Don’t put words in my mouth,” Changying frowned. If she were still in her childlike form, she would have seemed like she was pouting.

Seeing Changying flustered and unable to retort, Zhuyou found it… somewhat endearing.

She truly couldn’t understand how this dragon could remain so calm and composed while speaking to her. Gods and devils were natural enemies, yet not only had Changying not captured her and taken her to the Heavenly Palace, she had even helped her evade detection at every turn. One might even call her a close ally of the Devil Clan.

A proper Nine Heavens Divine Venerable, going out of her way to care for a devil like her—if the Nine Heavens found out, the Heavenly Emperor would be so furious he might flip the heavens upside down.

“Then what exactly are you hoping for?” Zhuyou decided to cut to the chase. All this guessing was getting her nowhere.

To her surprise, the dragon blinked, her pale lips parting as she said, “I only hope for your well-being.”

Zhuyou felt a strange sensation, her heart pounding loudly. She frowned and turned away, wanting to part ways.

Changying didn’t stop her, only saying, “A hundred years ago, you took me with you, fed me spirit stones so I could take human form. I followed you everywhere, and even when you trapped me in a bowl, I was only confused, not truly resentful. All in all, a hundred years ago was like this, and now, even after entering the Turbid Mirror, it’s still the same,” Changying said calmly.

Zhuyou paused, realizing that Changying was likely explaining her earlier question: What hasn’t changed?

Changying stood still, watching her, just as she had a hundred years ago when she was abandoned in the devil’s domain.

“A hundred years have passed. Now, you’re in the south of the heavens, and I’m in the north of the earth. Yet you’re acting like a devil, stubborn and unyielding,” Zhuyou sneered mockingly. “Or have you developed a devil’s heart too?”

Changying remained silent.

“Do you want me to bewitch you, so you’ll obey me completely, and let me manipulate the Heavenly Realm as I please? Is that what you hope for?” Zhuyou’s heart raced, her mouth dry from the intensity of her words.

In this boundless realm, the sun and moon passed over houses and towering mountains, overlapping briefly before parting again.

Neither heaven nor earth, much like this reckless dragon.

Zhuyou thought the dragon must truly be possessed, perhaps driven mad by the stifling heavens.

Changying blinked her golden eyes. “I’m not stubborn, nor do I have a devil’s heart.”

Zhuyou pressed, “Do you truly only wish for my well-being?”

Changying nodded solemnly. “Truly.”

Zhuyou was utterly perplexed. Though she no longer resided in the Nine Heavens, she knew that a Divine Venerable shouldn’t be so bold or capricious.

She hurried forward, pulling her chaotic thoughts back together. She thought to herself that no matter how powerful this sacred artifact was, there must be a flaw somewhere. She was determined to see where this path would lead if she kept walking straight ahead.

For every step she took, Changying followed, her shadow trailing behind just as it had a hundred years ago.

Zhuyou couldn’t help but feel that perhaps this dragon truly hadn’t changed.

She couldn’t be certain, but Changying knew exactly what she desired.

They were meant to walk the same path, but fate had pulled them apart. What Changying had gained should have been Zhuyou’s as well, yet…

Yet Zhuyou had lost everything and remained trapped in her shackles.

What was she after? She wanted Zhuyou to reclaim everything she had lost, yet without having to return to the Nine Heavens. The path ahead would undoubtedly be fraught with hardship, but she was willing to give it a try.

Seeing that Changying remained silent, Zhuyou found the situation rather dull.

The Turbid Mirror seemed to encompass everything within heaven and earth. As they walked forward, more and more unfamiliar scenes unfolded before her eyes. Though the cliffs and beaches appeared as if they had been sliced away, leaving only fragments, they were still utterly foreign to her.

Zhuyou slowed her pace, fearing that the Turbid Mirror might pull her back into the chaotic realm of illusions. She had been fortunate to wake up the last time, but there was no guarantee she would be so lucky again.

Changying followed behind her, walking leisurely. While others who entered this place seemed to be undergoing a trial, constantly at risk of being driven mad by the mirror, she remained utterly calm, her face showing no trace of panic.

“Do you have a way to get out?” Zhuyou turned her head, her gaze falling to the ground, avoiding Changying’s face. It wasn’t that she couldn’t bear to look at her, but rather that she still hadn’t grown accustomed to Changying’s appearance. There was no trace of childishness left in her features, and her gaze was piercingly cold.

Changying tilted her head slightly, her golden eyes narrowing as she asked, “Didn’t you enter the mirror to search for something? Are you planning to leave before finding it?”

Zhuyou was momentarily speechless. She couldn’t very well admit that she had entered the mirror to secretly search for the remaining hun soul of the Devil Lord behind the Heavenly Realm’s back. She hadn’t expected to be accompanied by a Nine Heavens Divine Venerable.

Was she supposed to perform the act of awakening the Devil Lord right in front of a Divine Venerable?

Her deliberately averted gaze eventually returned to the dragon. Zhuyou studied Changying’s expression carefully, trying to discern whether the dragon knew the true purpose of her entering the mirror.

She stared for a while, but Changying’s expression remained unchanged.

“Do you know what I’m searching for?” Zhuyou asked.

Changying’s face was open and honest, her pale, unadorned features both elegant and austere. She replied coldly, “I don’t know.”

Zhuyou’s eyes narrowed with suspicion, still not entirely convinced. Changying must know. Otherwise, why would she deliberately bring her into the mirror? Clearly, she wanted to keep a close eye on her.

How ironic. A hundred years ago, she had treated this dragon like a pet snake, keeping it under her watchful eye at all times, afraid that something might go wrong. Now, a century later, she was the one being closely monitored by the dragon.

Perhaps this was fate.

Even if Changying claimed not to know, Zhuyou wasn’t about to reveal her true intentions. Instead, she teased, “You’re avoiding my earlier question. Could it be that even you can’t find a way out?”

Changying replied, “It’s a bit difficult,” though it was hard to tell if she was being truthful.

Zhuyou shot her a sidelong glance. The surroundings began to shift again, the floating houses slowly descending, and the fragmented streets gradually piecing themselves together. It seemed as though they had returned to the Mortal Realm.

She immediately focused her mind, afraid that a moment of distraction might plunge her back into confusion.

Fortunately, the accusatory voices did not return, and her consciousness remained clear.

Pedestrians began to appear on the streets. At first, their figures were faint, passing right through her. She paid them no mind until a playing child ran headlong into her leg, causing her to stumble.

The child looked up, startled and unsure of what to do. Before it could speak, Changying pushed it aside.

The child stood there, stunned, its small face filled with grievance.

“Go away,” Changying said coldly, showing none of the benevolence expected of a celestial being.

The child burst into tears and ran off, disappearing into the distance.

“Have we entered the chaotic realm of illusions again?” Zhuyou asked.

Changying shook her head. “In the chaotic realm, everything is false. But this child is real. The mirror must have reverted to a past time.”

Zhuyou turned and looked around, realizing that the place did seem familiar. Upon closer inspection, she recognized it as Songling City.

However, the snow had not yet fallen, and the ground was not covered in white.

The mortals passing by were bundled in thick coats, shivering, their faces devoid of much joy.

After a while, snow began to fall like delicate blossoms, and frost quickly spread across the ground. In no time, the entire city was blanketed in snow, just as she remembered it.

Zhuyou turned and saw a group of mortal cultivators walking together. Not far away stood a few disciples wrapped in heavy cloaks—the same ones who had given her directions when she first arrived in Songling City.

So, they had truly returned to the past.

But could she only see what she had already experienced?

Zhuyou suddenly felt a wave of confusion. She remembered the sand dunes and the sea she had seen before being trapped in the chaotic realm, as well as the black-armored devil soldiers and the fiery feathers.

If she could only see what she had witnessed before, why had she seen that scene?

She abruptly stopped and turned to look at the expressionless dragon behind her.

Changying’s demeanor was cold and distant, as if no one could get close to her.

“What’s wrong?” Changying’s eyes softened slightly, her icy expression easing a little.

Zhuyou wasn’t sure how long she had been in the mirror. If the time she spent in the chaotic realm was the same as outside, then she had been with this dragon for about a dozen hours—or perhaps much longer.

After a moment of hesitation, she asked, “Before I entered the chaotic realm, I saw a million devil soldiers crossing a desert. Above them was not the sky, but an endless sea. Behind them, phoenix feathers rained down like arrows. If I’m not mistaken, that must have been the war between gods and devils. But I’ve never experienced such a battle. Was what I saw something you personally witnessed?”

Changying’s pupils suddenly contracted, and her neck seemed to stiffen. She stared at Zhuyou for a long moment, as if confirming something.

Zhuyou’s face was still filled with confusion, her gaze questioning as she looked at Changying.

Changying’s hands, half-hidden in her sleeves, clenched and then relaxed. The breath she had been holding in her throat finally released.

She thought to herself that her suspicions were indeed correct—it really was Zhuyou.

No matter how much she had tried to divine the secrets of heaven in the Observatory Pavilion, she had never been able to piece together the full picture. Yet, upon entering the Turbid Mirror, this sacred artifact had awakened her understanding.

Under Zhuyou’s gaze, Changying neither nodded nor shook her head. Instead, she replied vaguely, “If you think so, then it must be so.”

“If you’ve returned after reshaping your body, then you must remember what happened thousands of years ago,” Zhuyou added.

Changying nodded. “I do remember.” She looked toward the distant mountains, as if recalling something from the past. “What happened a thousand years ago is like fleeting smoke. Whether I remember or not doesn’t matter much.”

“If that’s the case, then why did you attach yourself to me, whom you only met a hundred years ago?” Zhuyou scoffed.

She had intended to probe Changying for answers but couldn’t help but tease her instead. 

She had expected Changying to give a perfunctory reply, but what she heard next made her heart tremble.

Changying lowered her eyes, pondering for a moment, before lifting her golden gaze and saying slowly, “You are here now. They are not.”

Zhuyou felt a bitter taste in her throat and quickly pulled her thoughts back. She thought to herself that this dragon, living in solitude for so long, must have grown weary of loneliness. After exchanging heart’s blood, her heart had warmed, and she no longer wished to return to that desolate existence.

She averted her gaze, unwilling to accept Changying’s goodwill. If the conflict between gods and devils were to reignite, even if Changying were willing to spare her, she might not hold back.

The pain of having her bones carved out still lingered on her back. How could she simply forget? She was supposed to despise the gods in the heavens.

All of them.

“Do you want to see the human world from a thousand years ago?” Changying raised her hand, as if preparing to wipe away the scenes before them.

With a single gesture, the surroundings would once again be swept into chaos, only to unfold into a different place.

“If you’ll take me there, then I’ll go and see,” Zhuyou said after hesitating for a moment.

Changying actually nodded.

As soon as she did, the houses and people around them were suddenly erased, as if a canvas had been wiped clean. The snow-covered mountains outside the city vanished, and the eagle hanging in the sky disappeared.

“Why did it suddenly change?” Zhuyou immediately asked.

Changying answered matter-of-factly, “I suppressed my cultivation earlier, so the mirror only recognized you. Now that I’ve released my spiritual power, the world within the mirror changes according to my will.”

Zhuyou frowned. “You suppressed your cultivation earlier?”

Changying gave a slight nod, her expressionless face resembling an unattainable lotus on a snowy cliff.

Zhuyou suddenly felt that something was off. After a moment of thought, she abruptly looked up. “If that’s the case, then why did I see the scenes of the gods and devils at war earlier?”

She furrowed her brows, carefully studying Changying’s expression. The dragon’s face remained impassive, her golden eyes unmoving, as if her face had been frozen since she was still in her egg.

Changying spoke slowly, “When we first entered the mirror, I hadn’t yet suppressed my cultivation. That’s probably why.”

Outwardly, she appeared calm, but her heart was anything but. She carefully considered each word before speaking.

She wasn’t ready to let Zhuyou know that the other ancient god the Heavenly Realm was searching for… was her. At least not until she had secured something for Zhuyou. By then, even if Zhuyou found out, the shock would be less, and there would be less resentment.

In an instant, the surroundings were filled with billowing smoke. Thousands of strange beasts came charging, their steps shaking the cracked earth and creating new fissures.

The land was desolate and barren, yet it was anything but quiet.

How could it be quiet? The battle between gods and devils raged, divine artifacts clashing and sending colorful sparks into the sky. The heavens seemed draped in a robe of sunset, while the earth groaned in agony.

The devil army appeared once more. The black horses they rode were covered in blood, their bones exposed in many places, yet they did not fall. Under the lash of whips, they continued to charge forward, their wounds bleeding profusely. The blood that fell to the ground instantly turned into devilish smoke.

Was this what it was like a thousand years ago?

Zhuyou’s heart was deeply moved, pounding as if she were part of the battle herself.

Though her heart now beat with Changying’s blood, it felt as though it were on fire. Her entire body was tense, her hair standing on end.

But she was not part of this war. This battle had taken place over four thousand years ago. The ancient gods of that time were far more powerful than the celestial officials of today, as different as clouds and mud.

They were beings who could overturn the heavens and shake the earth with a single gesture.

The ancient gods didn’t seem to know each other well, but this monumental conflict had drawn them together, leaving them no room to retreat.

Zhuyou narrowed her eyes, searching for the Devil Lord among the devil army.

The charging soldiers kicked up clouds of dust, their faces obscured by the yellow sand that hung like a curtain.

Zhuyou had once opened the Devil Lord’s coffin and seen his physical body, so she knew what he looked like.

Unfortunately, she didn’t see him. After scanning the army, none of the soldiers resembled the Devil Lord.

Then she suddenly remembered that when the ancient Devil Clan was nearly wiped out, the Devil Lord had still been in his infancy. After the devil army was destroyed, he alone survived. It was said that when he returned to the devil’s domain, he was still a child. It took him hundreds of years to recover before he led his forces to seize Shangxi City.

Had Changying still been around then? When had Changying perished? And during this great war, what kind of god had Changying been?

Thinking of this, Zhuyou felt a chill run down her spine, as if she had been nurturing a tiger that would one day turn on her.

Seeing the darkness in Zhuyou’s eyes, Changying asked knowingly, “What exactly are you here to take?”

Zhuyou let out a light laugh. “If I can’t see it, then I don’t want it anymore. By the way, do you know how the Devil Lord perished?” she asked instead.

Changying replied with utmost calm, “He perished under the sword of the Slayer God.”

But Zhuyou didn’t know who the Slayer God was. Hearing this, she could only imagine that the Slayer God must have been incredibly formidable, able to single-handedly bring the Devil Lord to his knees and leave the devil’s domain in ruins. She turned and asked, “What about you? Where were you at that time?” Have you ever crossed paths with the Devil Lord?

She was truly looking for an excuse to have Changying take her back to the time when the Devil Lord was still alive, so she could retrieve his soul.

Changying said indifferently, “By that time, my po soul had already split into seven parts, and my physical body had perished. But fragments of my po soul still remained. If we were to go back to that time, it might be possible, though we would only be able to observe, not intervene.” She asked directly, meeting Zhuyou’s gaze, “Do you want to take a look?” 

When Zhuyou had taken the soul of that fool, Changying had been by her side. And when Zhuyou had brought the Crystal of Law to the human world, Changying had followed her there as well.

This dragon clearly knew that Zhuyou was searching for the remaining hun soul of the Devil Lord. Yet now she was asking this question—could it be that she was truly willing to take her to see him?

“If I say I do?” Zhuyou said slowly.

“Then it shall be as you wish,” Changying replied.