Great Demon - Chapter 74 Part 1

Beneath the vast East Sea, East Sea Monarch was overjoyed and quickly summoned Mangfeng before him, saying, “The Divine Venerable wishes to take both you and Jingyi as disciples.”

Mangfeng was momentarily stunned, but joy quickly surged into his eyes. His lips curled into a broad smile, nearly splitting his face. “Her Divinity wants…”

“In the future, you must never go against her. This is a blessing that countless people long for but will never receive,” East Sea Monarch reminded him.

Mangfeng had never expected such good fortune to fall upon him. He quickly responded, “Naturally, I would never disobey the Divine Venerable. Her Divinity watches over the Three Realms and is dedicated to subduing devils. Now that I am listed among the immortals, I, too, must keep the duty of subduing devils close to my heart.”

“For the past hundred years, the Divine Venerable has not taken anyone by her side. She may appear cold, but she is meticulous in thought and is not devoid of emotion.” East Sea Monarch sighed. He paused before continuing, “It seems you two will soon be heading to the Heavenly Palace. If Her DIvinity personally comes to escort you, who knows how many immortals will envy you?”

“How could we trouble the Divine Venerable like that?” Mangfeng quickly said.

East Sea Monarch smiled slightly and shook his head. After a moment’s thought, he added, “I am not worried about Jingyi. She has grown up in the Heavenly Palace, and most of the celestial lords recognize her. But you have lived in the East Sea all your life and have rarely set foot in the Nine Heavens.”

“Father, you need not worry,” Mangfeng replied steadily.

“Jingyi has seemed troubled recently, but with this joyous news, she will surely be overjoyed,” East Sea Monarch said.

“I’ll go see Jingyi now.” Mangfeng cupped his hands in salute. His eyes were brimming with happiness as he turned and left the main hall, walking along the white jade corridor toward the side hall.

The Dragon Palace was adorned with gold and jade, opulent in every detail. The corridors were unlit, yet the walls embedded with luminous night stones glowed softly.

To his surprise, there was no one outside Jingyi’s room, and the inside was eerily silent. Even the window curtains were drawn tight, blocking any view inside.

Mangfeng found this odd and immediately pushed the door open. Inside, he saw Jingyi lying on the couch, seemingly fast asleep. He stepped forward and gently tucked the strands of hair covering her face behind her ear, then leaned in slightly and murmured at her ear, “You’ve been so drowsy lately. If you are to follow the Divine Venerable, you must not be so careless.”

Mangfeng felt a wave of unease. He quickly pushed the door open and found Jingyi lying on the bed, seemingly fast asleep. He approached her, gently tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear, and leaned in slightly to whisper, “Why have you been so sleepy lately? When you’re with the Divine Lord, you can’t afford to be this lazy.”

Jingyi was not asleep. She simply didn’t dare to open her eyes, afraid that once she was awake, she would hear that strange voice chattering endlessly by her ear. Hearing Mangfeng’s words, she suddenly turned over and faced him, hurriedly suppressing the fear in her eyes. Shocked, she asked, “What do you mean, follow the Divine Venerable? What nonsense are you talking about?” She propped herself up and clenched her trembling fingers into her palm.

“I’m not talking nonsense. The Divine Venerable just told Father that she wants to take us in as disciples,” Mangfeng said with a smile.

He had expected Jingyi to be just as overjoyed as he was, but to his surprise, her pupils contracted sharply as if she had been terrified. Her entire body tensed up.

Mangfeng hesitated for a moment before laughing. “Don’t tell me you’re so happy you’ve gone dumb?”

Jingyi was trembling all over. Her quivering hand clutched at his sleeve, her lips parting and closing without forming a proper word. “Why… why would the Divine Venerable take me as a disciple? I—my cultivation is shallow, and I haven’t even reached the Arcane stage. What could she possibly want with me?”

“Her Divinity is not a cold-hearted person. She has visited often these days and has had many pleasant conversations with Father,” Mangfeng reassured her.

Jingyi’s grip on his sleeve was so tight that her knuckles turned white. Her entire body quaked as if she had suffered an immense fright. After a long while, she shook her head so forcefully it seemed she wanted to shake her thoughts away.

Her reaction was so strange that it startled Mangfeng. He immediately grasped her hand and asked, “What’s wrong? You don’t want to? If you truly don’t want to…”

He had wanted to say that if she didn’t want to go, he would talk to the Divine Venerable, but this was an honor bestowed by the Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens. How could one refuse so easily?

Jingyi kept trembling, her eyes filled with lingering fear. She suddenly threw herself into Mangfeng’s arms and shivered for a long time. Burying her face in his robes, she hid her terrified expression completely. Her lips moved as if speaking to someone, yet no sound escaped her throat.

Seeing this, Mangfeng could only raise a hand to gently pat her back, utterly confused about what was happening.

After some time, Jingyi slowly forced herself to regain her composure. She sluggishly lifted her head, forcing a smile onto her lips as if she were truly happy. She let out two dry laughs before abruptly letting go of Mangfeng’s sleeve. Sitting up from the couch, she playfully pushed his shoulder. “I was just… so happy that I nearly lost myself. I can hardly believe the Divine Venerable would actually… actually take me as her disciple. It must be thanks to you.”

Mangfeng believed her without question and shook his head helplessly. “What do I have to do with it? It’s your own merit. But remember, when you see the Divine Venerable, you must not behave like this again.”

Jingyi nodded repeatedly and then added, “Go on ahead. I… I need to decide what to wear, what hairpin to use, so I can leave a good impression on the Divine Venerable.”

Mangfeng had always liked her delicate and soft demeanor. With a slight nod, he turned and left.

The moment the door closed, fear crept back into Jingyi’s eyes. She trembled violently, raising her hands to cover her ears. Though the room was deathly silent, she could still hear a voice speaking beside her.

That voice said, Before the Divine Venerable stabs you, she will first feed you a sweet.

Jingyi thought to herself, How dare you slander the Divine Venerable behind her back?

I am you, and if I speak ill of her, you are just as guilty, the voice let out a muffled laugh. But tell me, why do you think she wants to take you in? What does she want from you?

Jingyi rasped, “It is a gift from the Divine Venerable to the East Sea, not because she wants something from me.”

Oh, don’t deceive yourself. You are a devil—do you really think you can follow the Slayer God and fight against demons and devils? the voice mocked.

“I—I am not a devil!” Jingyi immediately denied.

When she finds out, you won’t even have a chance to run. You might as well take your own life now. That way, you can enter reincarnation early and be reborn into a better fate.

“I don’t want to die! This is just one of your wicked schemes. You just want me dead,” Jingyi’s voice trembled.

I am you, and you are me. Why would I truly want you dead? The voice drawled.

“Shut up! Shut up!” Jingyi gritted her teeth, spiritual energy already forming in her hands, nearly striking down upon her own ears.

She clenched her fingers into a fist and forced her trembling hands behind her back. She had almost fallen into that voice’s trap.

***

Inside the mustard seed, the sky over this corner of Shenhua Mountain was always gloomy, with fierce winds cutting through the snow and white waves piling upon each other.

The world was blanketed in pristine whiteness, seemingly untouched by filth, yet on this expanse of pure snow, two figures clad in black intertwined.

“Lost your tongue?” Zhuyou tilted her head, silver hair dusted with a fine layer of snow. One of her hands was held above her head by Changying, and the mist-like fabric of her robes was bunched up at her shoulders. The devil-marked arm in Changying’s grip was covered in red imprints, mottled and uneven, her pale skin looking as if it had been stained with flower juice.

Her legs were pinned down, one shoe lost somewhere in the snow, forcing her to curl her toes against the icy ground.

“I’m not angry,” Changying said slowly, as though convincing herself.

“You must have forgotten the bond in our heart’s blood. The moment your heart blood surges, I—” Zhuyou’s breath was unsteady, her words dissolving into something soft and fluid.

She, too, felt as if she were being boiled alive. She hadn’t expected that the heart’s blood she’d left in Changying’s body would hold such power—so much so that even she couldn’t withstand it.

The dragon, hot and restless, was half-pressed against her. Despite having her back against the ice and snow, she was sweating all over. The heat seemed to be melting the very snow beneath her.

It felt as if she were submerged in water. Her mist-like robes clung damply to her skin, sticky and suffocating. The heat stifled her breath, and all she wanted was to tug open her collar and let the cool air in faster.

Changying’s golden eyes were dark, her usually calm and indifferent face now tinged with struggle. She raised a hand to press against her forehead, fine brows knitting slightly. Her once sharp and piercing gaze had turned vulnerable, as though her mind was clouded. Her voice was murky when she asked, “Just now, you asked me what I wanted to do?”

“What are you trying to do?” Zhuyou repeated.

Changying’s hand slowly fell from her forehead, her slender fingers hooking onto Zhuyou’s collar. It was unclear whether she meant to pull it open or if she merely wanted to let her fingertips rest there.

She didn’t know.

Her stomach felt empty, yet not from hunger. She scoured the spiritual threads within her sea of consciousness but could not find a name for this desire in the human world.

It seemed as if she could only follow her instincts. She wanted to wrap this fragile, pitiful phoenix in her scales and armor, to find a secluded place and hide her away—so that only she could see her, and no one else.

Three thousand years ago, she hadn’t known why she was compelled to subdue devils. It was as if it had been ingrained in her very bones. Now, she still didn’t know, but she wanted to follow her heart.

Not knowing what to say, she could only lower her head and stare intently at Zhuyou.

Zhuyou, unfazed by the lack of response, thought to herself that this dragon still had the same sulking tendencies. The only difference was that she wasn’t as easy to appease as she had been in the past. Zhuyou narrowed her eyes slightly, her lashes fluttering like butterfly wings. Her chest rose and fell with each breath.

If anyone else tormented her like this, she would have long been furious—how could she still be lying here so calmly?

Yet, she felt no shame, no anger. Even her very bones seemed to be dissolving in this sweltering heat, turning soft and pliant, as if even her heart had been cleansed.

When Changying finally let go of her hand, the limb fell heavily onto the soft snow. It took a long moment before she managed to gather enough strength to push against Changying’s chest.

As she reached out, her fingers brushed against a lock of Changying’s hair. The strands were incredibly soft, curling around her fingers like devil’s vines.

A woman’s chest was always soft, and beneath her palm lay Changying’s burning heart.

Perhaps it was the rapid, pounding rhythm under her touch, but a tingling numbness spread through her fingertips, like being struck by heavenly thunder. Even her soul quivered.

“This drop of heart’s blood is under your control. Steady your mind and spirit—don’t let it run rampant and shake your heart,” Zhuyou murmured, turning her gaze away, her hand pressing lightly against Changying’s chest.

Changying slowly lowered herself, pressing down tightly, their bodies fitting together without a single gap. She even rested her forehead in the crook of Zhuyou’s shoulder.

Zhuyou had no choice but to withdraw her hand, her cheek brushing against Changying’s dark hair. She instinctively tilted her head back, the pale column of her neck stretching taut—almost as white as the surrounding snow.

Then, she heard Changying murmur into her shoulder, voice muffled, “I can’t calm down.”