Great Demon - Chapter 74 Part 2

Zhuyou was truly uncomfortable, her entire body hot and weak, drained of all strength. She could only mumble, “Wake up quickly. The hotter you get, the more my blood surges, burning me up.”

“Really?” Changying suddenly spoke, her pale lips brushing against Zhuyou’s neck.

Zhuyou closed her eyes. “Really. You’re pressed this close—can’t you tell?”

She had just meant to tease her, but then Changying lifted herself slightly, though her head remained resting on Zhuyou’s shoulder. The loose strands of her hair scattered over Zhuyou’s partially opened collar, tickling her skin like feathers.

Suddenly, sharp pain lanced through her neck.

Her eyes flew open, and she instinctively pushed against Changying’s head. But those dragon fangs had already sunk in, slow and deliberate, sending a tremor through her.

“It hurts.”

Changying released her bite but languidly licked over the wound, as if savoring every trace of blood. “It really is hot,” she murmured, lifting her head to meet Zhuyou’s half-lidded gaze. Her golden eyes were dark and filled with a heavy, consuming intent, as if she wanted to swallow Zhuyou whole.

Zhuyou hesitated for a moment, thinking—could this dragon be giving in to devilish thoughts?

She immediately turned over, her limbs so weak that she felt no different from a mortal. Even her spiritual power refused to respond. Her bare, snow-white nape was now exposed to Changying’s eyes.

Changying raised her wrist, and in an instant, the crimson cord binding their wrists tightened. It was imbued with divine power—impossible to cut, impossible to break.

Zhuyou had barely crawled forward when the cord suddenly pulled her hand back. Her back was pressed down with the lightest touch, yet she found herself unable to move.

“Where are you trying to go?” Changying’s heartbeat pounded erratically. She reached out, wrapping her arms around Zhuyou’s waist, dragging her back an inch before lifting her up slightly—just enough for her arms to encircle Zhuyou properly.

Zhuyou was held tightly, and so she simply said, “I’m not going anywhere. Let me sit up.”

Changying adjusted her posture, allowing Zhuyou to rise slightly, half-kneeling, half-sitting. In the vast snowfall, they remained tightly pressed together, as if they could not be separated for even a moment.

“Does it still hurt?” Changying asked indifferently. Her arms tightened slightly. Secretly, she ran her tongue over her lips, trying to imprint the sensation of biting Zhuyou onto her lips and teeth.

She seemed to understand now.

In the mortal world, this was called “greed.” Greed intertwined with desire—this was only human nature.

It turned out she didn’t just want Zhuyou to stand beside her as an equal—she wanted to drag her into the boundless sea of her desires, never to resurface.

“Enough,” Changying suddenly said. “Whatever you wish to know, I will tell you.”

Zhuyou twisted her waist to look at her, lifting her hand—the one bound in red string—to hover just before Changying’s lips. “Weren’t you supposed to wait three days? The Nine Heavens’ Divine Venerable doesn’t keep her word?”

Changying hesitated for a moment, her gaze dropping to the soft, pale palm near her lips.

The crimson cord around Zhuyou’s wrist swayed slightly in the fierce wind. The vibrant red suited her beautifully.

Changying’s heart stirred. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to the palm, kissing it directly.

The originally well-spread five fingers suddenly clenched, like a startled sparrow abruptly flapping its wings. Zhuyou slightly parted her lips, inhaling softly, but she did not withdraw her hand. Instead, she pressed her fingers forward, rubbing them lightly but deliberately against Changying’s pale lips. Her fingertips were caught precisely, as if drawn into a flower bud, then gently nibbled by pearly teeth.

“Does it taste good?” Zhuyou asked with a smile, her voice truly softened by warmth, as if it could melt and drip like water.

Changying’s indifferent golden eyes suddenly lifted. As she spoke, her lips moved against the moist pad of the fingertip, grazing it a few times. “Does this… count as eating?”

Zhuyou averted her gaze at once, as if trying to appease a dragon. “If you say it counts, then… it counts.”

Changying’s heart filled with joy, and the earlier anger that had stifled her quickly dissipated. Wrapping her arms around Zhuyou’s waist, she tilted to the side and lay back onto the snow, her happiness indescribable.

It was as if, in this brief moment, she had forgotten all the loneliness and desolation of the past century. Then, she closed her eyes and, expressionless, pretended, “I still don’t feel quite at ease. It’s like something is stuck in my chest.”

“What do you want to do?” Zhuyou asked.

“I want to sleep with you,” Changying replied.

Zhuyou immediately tried to pull away from the dragon’s embrace, her hand already reaching out, but her wrist was caught and pulled back. Her heart pounded anxiously as she thought—Changying must have meant just “sleep,” right?

“…Then let’s sleep,” she said.

Not long after, the breath resting against her back became slow and steady, as if Changying had truly fallen into deep sleep.

Zhuyou couldn’t help but think to herself, This dragon’s fondness for sleep hasn’t changed since childhood.

But she was held tightly, the snowy ground was both cold and uncomfortable, and she wondered if this dragon would sleep for three whole days before waking.

Changying was not truly asleep. Though her breath had grown slow and steady, her golden eyes remained open. She was thinking… about what to do in two days.

Zhuyou’s own eyes soon closed, and before long, she began to drift into drowsiness. Whether it was due to Changying’s magic or not, she couldn’t tell—she simply lost consciousness.

Within this space, it truly felt as if the sky was a blanket, the earth a bed. Above, the heavens were thick with sorrowful clouds, obscuring the celestial light, making it impossible to tell the time.

***

When she next opened her eyes, Zhuyou was startled to find herself outside of the space. Across the room, the black-robed, ink-haired dragon stood by the table, lightly stroking a certain object—Turbid Mirror.

She sat up abruptly, never expecting that while she had been unaware, the dragon had taken the Turbid Mirror.

Just as she was about to snatch it back, Changying turned slightly and said coldly, “They’re here.”

Who’s here?

Outside, an eerie silence suddenly settled over the world, as if everything had frozen in place. Not a single sound could be heard—every being and object in the Mortal Realm seemed to have come to a halt.

Then, a bright light shone through the window. Suspended in the air, golden sand glowed under divine radiance, each grain sparkling like gold dust.

A heavenly steed neighed, its hooves clattering from the sky. A voice called out from outside, “We are here by order to capture the devil being!”

Zhuyou’s eyes widened. The fragile sense of warmth and ease she had just felt shattered instantly. Staring at Changying in disbelief, she felt her breath catch in her throat.

She never could have expected that Changying had summoned the heavenly soldiers!

And that voice—it was unmistakable. It belonged to the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord, the same Divine Lord who, a century ago, had tried to take her life in the devil’s domain.

“You—” Gritting her teeth, Zhuyou abruptly threw aside the silk quilt, no longer caring about the Turbid Mirror.

At that moment, the doors and walls shattered with a thunderous crash, turning into fine powder. Outside, the mortal onlookers were showered in debris, stiffening as they collapsed to the ground.

Zhuyou frowned. If she remembered correctly, three days ago, Changying had only spoken of summoning her disciples.

Yet now, it seemed the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord and an uncountable number of heavenly soldiers had all become Changying’s subordinates?

Anyone with half a brain would know that was impossible. Truly absurd.

Zhuyou suddenly struck out with a palm, unleashing a surge of terrifying spiritual energy toward Changying’s lower back.

Changying raised her hand, dispersing the force, but the residual energy burst outward, causing the already fragile inn to tremble violently.

Zhuyou turned her head and heard someone outside call, “Divine Venerable, I have brought Mangfeng and Jingyi.”

She nearly ground her teeth to dust—Jingyi was here too? Could it be that Mangfeng and Jingyi were the two celestial beings Changying had taken under her command? The thought was almost laughable.

From the sky, the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord called out, “Where is the devil being now?”

Zhuyou spun her hands, and in an instant, a dense cluster of dark gray feathers materialized in the air. Each feather’s tip burned with flame, all aimed at the dragon standing inside, still stroking the Turbid Mirror.

The feathers shot forward at once, like a storm of blazing arrows. Wherever they touched, explosions rang out, and vivid flames erupted.

Standing in the middle of the burning room, Changying merely lifted an arm and deflected them all. The feathers embedded themselves into the walls and ceiling, instantly setting the entire structure ablaze, crackling and roaring.

The fire burned fiercely, trapping Changying within its flames like a cage.

Yet, she remained utterly still, seemingly unafraid of death. But as a Divine Venerable of the Nine Heavens, life and death were within her grasp—why should she fear either?

She tilted her head slightly, looking past the red flames at Zhuyou. Her expression remained cold, indifferent, but the firelight cast a faint crimson hue upon her face, as though staining her lips the same way Zhuyou had earlier, back in the pocket dimension.

Suspended in the air, the Evil-Punisher Divine Lord gripped his long halberd, its blade gleaming with chilling light, waiting for the Divine Venerable’s response.

Changying said calmly, “Right here.”

Zhuyou’s eyes narrowed slightly. Just as she was about to break through the wall in front of her, a divine light suddenly wrapped around her waist.

She raised a hand like a blade, intending to cut it apart, but before she could, the divine light suddenly tightened. Unable to resist, she was pulled through the flames and dragged into the room.

“This is the truth you wanted me to see?” she glared at Changying.

Changying leaned in close to her ear. “Trust me. I would never harm you.” Her fingertips touched the Turbid Mirror, and in an instant, ripples spread across its murky surface, rings of light like water waves.

In the blink of an eye, Zhuyou’s entire body stiffened. She felt her hun soul and po soul being forcefully pulled, as if the heavens were spinning and the earth was shifting beneath her feet. When she opened her eyes again, the world around her had become a boundless chaos where sky and earth merged into one—she had entered the Turbid Mirror once more.

She looked around, but there was not a single person in sight. It seemed that in this realm, only her hun soul and po soul drifted about.

She took just a few steps before the distant mountains, rivers, and buildings all twisted together into a tangled mass. Then, as they unfurled, she found herself standing above the Nine Heavens.

She froze, staring in astonishment. All around her, divine light shimmered brilliantly, so bright that she instinctively raised an arm to shield her eyes.

The great celestial gates stood wide open, yet not a single being seemed to notice her presence. It was as if her form had been completely hidden from their sight. She tried to take a step forward, only to find herself utterly unable to move.

Her spiritual power would not circulate—she could do nothing but be led forward, as if guided by an unseen force. When she turned her head, she saw Changying pressing a hand against her back.

That cool, distant face was bathed in a pale, clear light, strikingly beautiful in its cold serenity.

Changying continued to guide her forward, speaking in a quiet voice, “Now, I shall show you what is truly real.”