Great Demon - Chapter 88

Zhuyou remained motionless, her eyes closed, her head tilted back, revealing a slender and elegant neck. She even slowed her breathing slightly, afraid to blow away the strand of hair resting on her lips.

The strand of hair lay across her lips, as if in a tiny world, reminiscent of the time when Changying leaned over her, her hair cascading down beside her face.

The ice formed by the dragon’s breath seemed to have changed. Although it hadn’t melted, as she placed her hand on it, she could easily sense that the coldness had noticeably diminished.

Zhuyou suddenly opened her eyes, pulled the strand of hair away, and abruptly turned her head to look behind her. Only then did she see the humanoid form condensed from the dragon’s breath.

The woman with jet-black hair, dressed in dark robes, tall and slender—it was none other than Changying.

Only then did Zhuyou realize that what Changying had left here wasn’t just the dragon’s breath, but also a fragment of her consciousness. However, the scent of the dragon’s breath was too strong, and the ice was too thick, making it difficult for her to detect that Changying had hidden her consciousness beneath the solid ice.

Was it to keep a close watch on this icy chasm, or… to watch her?

Zhuyou was momentarily stunned, belatedly realizing that everything she had just done had been witnessed by Changying. She pursed her lips, intending to appear calm and composed, but her heart was in turmoil. Even the drop of heart’s blood within her was restless, pounding against her chest with each heartbeat.

This dragon was truly cunning, having split off a fragment of her consciousness and hidden it here without a word.

Zhuyou felt that in the past, she would have been angry by now, but at this moment, she didn’t know how to be angry.

The humanoid form Changying had condensed stood behind her, staring intently at her, her gaze unmistakably fixed on Zhuyou’s lips.

Zhuyou suddenly slapped the solid ice beside her. The strike didn’t shatter the glacier in the slightest, as if she were merely brushing off dust. She narrowed her eyes slightly and said, “You came at just the right time. You hid your consciousness here without telling me?”

Changying replied, “I saw it.” Her voice was ethereal and distant, as if coming from the heavens, yet only Zhuyou could hear it.

Zhuyou tucked the long, slender strand of hair into her sleeve. “I know you have eyes, so of course you saw it.”

Changying, who had often been teased as a child, sat down calmly as if it were routine. “That strand of hair is mine.”

“How do you know it’s yours?” Zhuyou wondered if there was still room for her to argue.

“It carries my aura,” Changying said serenely.

With that, Zhuyou had no room left to argue, as if she had dug a hole and buried herself in it. She curled her fingers, scratching the ice somewhat awkwardly.

The tables had turned, and she seemed to be at a disadvantage.

Zhuyou instinctively felt that this shouldn’t be the case. She steeled herself and turned to look at Changying, saying, “That strand of hair was cut by the spiritual energy in this abyss. A single strand like this contains a significant amount of spiritual energy. It shouldn’t have ended up in someone else’s hands.”

Changying glanced at her own hair, which was draped over her shoulders, then leaned forward slightly, moving closer to Zhuyou’s back. With a cool expression, she asked, “But why did you place it on your lips? Is that how you consume spiritual energy?”

Zhuyou’s back stiffened instantly. As the dragon spoke, her breath brushed against Zhuyou’s ear, causing the hair hanging by her ear to sway slightly, tickling the tip of her ear. Zhuyou’s fingers, resting on the ice, curled into her palm, and she slowly pursed her lips, her tongue pressing against them.

“If that’s the case, why not let me directly transfer the spiritual energy to you?” Changying’s breath was soft and gentle against her ear, as if all edges had been smoothed away.

Zhuyou had her head turned slightly, and she saw Changying leaning over her shoulder, her pale lips slightly parted, as if she truly intended to transfer the spiritual energy to her.

The small mole on Changying’s nose was particularly distinct, so close that it almost touched Zhuyou’s cheek.

The gentle breath seemed to caress her heart.

Zhuyou’s eyes lifted, meeting Changying’s golden gaze, which was focused and serious. For a moment, she was dazed. Her heart tightened, and she quickly moved aside to avoid her. This time, she couldn’t help but be angry. She abruptly waved a burst of spiritual energy to seal Changying’s mouth.

She didn’t know what was wrong with this dragon. When it was time to speak, she remained silent, but when it wasn’t, she spoke with such ease.

Changying brushed away the spiritual energy, her golden dragon eyes lowered, as if she were deeply wronged.

Seeing the dimness in her gaze, Zhuyou reluctantly thought that perhaps she shouldn’t be angry. Slowly, she extended a finger and pressed it against Changying’s pale hand. But to her surprise, Changying turned her wrist and firmly grasped Zhuyou’s finger.

Well, let her hold it then, Zhuyou thought to herself.

Seeing that Changying didn’t seem inclined to continue transferring spiritual energy to her, Zhuyou finally said, “After I left, did you go to see Xuanqing?”

Changying held onto that slender, pale finger, moving it bit by bit upward, pressing gently but firmly against the slightly bent knuckle. She replied calmly, “I did. Xuanqing asked about the Phoenix Clan and how to remove some of the redundant immortal positions.”

When Zhuyou heard the words “Phoenix Clan,” she was momentarily stunned. Her eyes darkened, and she frowned. “What about the Phoenix Clan?”

Changying had no intention of hiding this matter, so she simply said, “Once the qingluan transforms into a phoenix, it will be time for Mount Danxue to change hands.”

Zhuyou had been away from the heavens for over two hundred years, and her memory of Yunshuo’s appearance had already faded. Especially after regaining her original form, she felt even less attachment to him, as if their childhood interactions had become as bland and tasteless as dew.

After a long pause, she finally moved her lips and said, “That’s fine.”

“There are too many redundant positions in the heavens. It’s time to remove some.” Changying paused, then added, “However, when I met Xuanqing this time, I asked about the incident two hundred years ago when Kunyi summoned the Turbid Mirror from beneath the Moon-Watching Cliff.”

“What about it?” Zhuyou frowned.

“Xuanqing did conceal some things, but when I pressed him, he revealed everything,” Changying said lightly. “Two hundred years ago, twelve people entered the Turbid Mirror. Now, only eleven remain in the heavens. The twelfth was banished to the Mortal Realm for violating celestial laws after that incident.”

Zhuyou didn’t want to doubt Xuanqing, but this matter was too strange. “Why would Xuanqing hide this?”

“He was tempted by the Turbid Mirror and did something he shouldn’t have in the chaotic realm,” Changying said slowly. “But I still don’t know exactly what he did in there.”

“If it wasn’t the exiled immortal scheming, then someone used him as a scapegoat.” Zhuyou knew all too well the tricks of these devils. She let out a soft scoff. “Xuanqing seems a little suspicious.”

“I will look into it carefully.” Changying paused, her cold gaze momentarily restrained before she asked, “Since I left, have you found anything?”

Zhuyou was about to speak when she suddenly sensed a demon approaching. She quickly pressed a hand on Changying’s shoulder and gave her a slight push.

Changying went along with it, lying back and blending into the shadows behind the frozen eaves.

Lady Huoshu of Jianxiang Pavilion walked over and stopped below, tilting her head up. “Your Grace, it’s quite late. How about coming to my place for a cup of tea?”

Zhuyou hadn’t responded yet when she felt her wrist being encircled by something—firmly, as if refusing to let her go.

Changying was still lying down, but her hand was wrapped tightly around Zhuyou’s wrist.

“No need,” Zhuyou said, glancing at her before lowering her gaze to Lady Huoshu, who stood below, idly twirling a folding fan.

Huoshu’s face was no longer hidden; it had returned to normal. Her nose was human, her lips no longer mouse-like, and the whiskers at the sides of her face had disappeared. She looked up, her half-aged face still somewhat alluring. Seeing that Zhuyou hadn’t agreed, she grew anxious and quickly added, “B-but Your Grace…” She stammered for a moment before awkwardly continuing, “About what we discussed earlier—I’ve found some clues.”

Zhuyou noticed how eager Huoshu was and figured she must have discovered something. She turned to look at Changying, only to meet her direct, unwavering gaze. For a moment, she hesitated.

Changying’s hand, still clasped around her wrist, moved slightly. Her thumb brushed slowly over the inside of Zhuyou’s wrist, lacking warmth—perhaps due to her spiritual nature. Then, she straightened up, pressing close behind Zhuyou, her eyes dark as she stared down at Huoshu.

Zhuyou’s body tensed. But judging by Huoshu’s calm expression, it seemed she couldn’t see the dragon standing behind her.

“She can’t see me, so there’s no need to worry,” Changying finally spoke, her breath falling lightly against Zhuyou’s ear. “Go on, see what this calamity mouse has found for you.”

Zhuyou finally relaxed, realizing that if Changying didn’t want to be seen, none of these lesser demons or devils could possibly perceive her.

She didn’t know what had clouded her judgment—perhaps it was that stray strand of hair from earlier.

Zhuyou remained silent for a while before saying, “Fine, then let’s have some tea.”

Huoshu immediately smiled and bowed. “I had the place cleaned in advance, and the tea has been kept warm. I hope, Your Grace, you won’t find Jianxiang Pavilion unpleasant.”

Zhuyou shook her head and subtly tried to pull Changying’s hand off her wrist. But the dragon’s grip wouldn’t loosen. She frowned, uncertain whether Changying was letting her go or not. She thought she ought to be annoyed, yet after a long pause, she couldn’t quite figure out how to be.

Only then did Changying finally release her hand, whispering near her ear, “Go on.”

Zhuyou leaped down, landing lightly beside Huoshu, while the unseen presence behind her followed.

“This way, Your Grace,” Huoshu said cautiously, knowing better than to speak too much. If her findings turned out to be true, it would be fine. But if not, she’d be the one in trouble.

Zhuyou kept a composed expression and followed without acknowledging the dragon trailing beside her.

***

Jianxiang Pavilion looked completely different from before—eerily quiet. The usual demons and devils were nowhere to be seen. Only the lingering scent of powder and perfume remained, but the heavily painted courtesans, both male and female, dressed in thin silks, had vanished.

Huoshu glanced back at Zhuyou’s unreadable face and let out a relieved sigh before gesturing forward. “This way, Your Grace.”

They passed through an arched doorway and entered a winding corridor. Zhuyou felt a vague sense of familiarity but couldn’t place it before Changying’s voice sounded in her ear. 

“Why is it this place?”

Changying frowned, her expression ice-cold. She had no fondness for this location. The last time she came here, the air had been filled with strange noises, and men and women were tangled together, barely clothed.

She had felt nothing looking at those empty husks, but she knew this wasn’t something Zhuyou should be seeing. If she had to look at something, then rather than those…

Rather than those—she might as well look at her.

Changying pressed her lips together and reached from behind Zhuyou, covering her eyes with her hand.

Zhuyou stopped in her tracks, her vision suddenly blocked.

Ahead, Huoshu turned back in confusion. “Your Grace, why aren’t you moving?”

Zhuyou sent a telepathic message. Why are you covering my eyes?

“This place is filthy. I don’t want you recalling what you’ve seen before,” Changying said with an unreadable expression.

Zhuyou chuckled, lips curving in amusement. She responded telepathically, drawling, Aren’t they just husks?

It was the very phrase Changying had used before, leaving her momentarily speechless.

After a short distance, Huoshu pushed open a door. “Your Grace, please come in.”

Zhuyou paused before glancing inside. The room was neat, free of any strange figures or objects. She gave a slight nod and stepped in.

A wooden table rested atop a cushioned couch, and on it sat a teapot, steam still curling from its spout.

Zhuyou glanced back at Changying, seeing the dragon had followed her in. Only then did she finally sit down.

Huoshu hurriedly poured tea, then went to the window, closing it before dispersing a veil of gray mist to prevent their conversation from being overheard.

Zhuyou picked up the teacup, lowered her gaze, and gently blew on the tea to cool it. Yet, she didn’t take a sip, only inhaling its aroma. She had never liked mortal teas, and after restoring her spiritual form, she could barely drink them at all. Perhaps it was the influence of her ancient Vermillion Phoenix blood—only the water from Liqueur Spring suited her taste.

(T/N: Liqueur Spring does have the character for ‘wine’)

Changying, sitting comfortably behind her, asked, “When did you meet this Huoshu?”

Just today, Zhuyou replied telepathically.

Changying frowned, clearly displeased. After a long silence, she finally said, “You’ve only known her for a day, yet you trust her so easily?”

Could a mere calamity mouse possibly harm me? Zhuyou placed the teacup down and cast a sidelong glance at Huoshu, who was carefully checking the doors and windows.

Huoshu turned around and, startled by Zhuyou’s gaze, quickly spoke up. “Your Grace, earlier today, didn’t you ask me to keep an eye on the demons and devils in the city?”

“And?” Zhuyou asked.

Huoshu hurried over, initially intending to sit across from Zhuyou. But after a second thought, she froze—she was hardly worthy of sitting as an equal to this figure. Instead, she remained standing and lowered her voice. “There’s a hunter in the city, a tiger demon. He often disappears for half a month at a time, but each time he returns, he does so without a sound or trace.”

Zhuyou frowned. “Silent? Compared to Wu Buzhi?”

“Even more so. Wu Buzhi at least stays in his residence occasionally. But this tiger demon—once he returns, he never opens his door. Even when someone knocks, there’s never a response.” Huoshu hesitated before adding, “Also, over the past few days, several courtesans from Jianxiang Pavilion have gone missing, but before I could—”

Zhuyou lifted her gaze, looking over with an indifferent expression.

Huoshu swallowed hard and said, “I hadn’t paid much attention before. After all, in our line of work, weak little demons being tortured to death is nothing unusual. Once a demon dies, who really cares who killed them?”

Zhuyou knew the way Guanshang had entered the Endless Abyss, so naturally, she also understood how these demons had died. She spoke calmly, “I already know about this. I doubt these demons were tortured to death. More likely, as the others saw earlier, they turned to dust in an instant.”

Huoshu had been at Jianxiang Pavilion at the time, too frightened to even step outside. She hadn’t seen with her own eyes how that female demon had disintegrated into dust the moment she was touched by that devil’s aura. She froze for a moment, as if she had seen a ghost, her teeth chattering as she stammered, “They… turned to dust in an instant?”

Zhuyou nodded.

“Was it done by that person?” Huoshu asked again.

Zhuyou let out a short scoff. “You must have heard something at Jianxiang Pavilion.”

“But who would dare discuss it?” Huoshu spoke softly. It was said that a thousand years ago, Guanshang had already neared enlightenment, his powers vast and boundless. Perhaps he could even hear his name being spoken from thousands of miles away.

Zhuyou was silent for a long while before turning to glance at Changying.

The dragon sat motionless, her golden eyes half-lidded. There wasn’t even the slightest trace of ferocity on her face. With her brows furrowed, she didn’t look menacing—rather, she looked listless, almost as if she were unwell.

Perhaps it was because her complexion was too pale, her lips bare without rouge, completely devoid of color, making her seem frail and sickly.

Changying lifted her golden eyes and tilted her head slightly. Though her lips were pressed together and she said nothing, she seemed to be asking, Why are you looking at me?

Zhuyou let out a faint chuckle and reached for the hem of Changying’s dress. Her pale fingers pressed against the dark fabric, slowly rubbing it between them.

Fortunately, the wooden table blocked the view, so Huoshu couldn’t see what Zhuyou was doing. But when Zhuyou turned her head and smiled, Huoshu suddenly felt as if she were being strangled—she held her breath at once. Trembling, she asked, “Your Grace… is someone here?”

Zhuyou turned her head back slowly and said, “No one. Don’t be afraid.”

After all, this dragon wasn’t human.

Huoshu, still shaken, glanced in the direction Zhuyou had just looked. Seeing nothing, she finally said, “If things follow the usual pattern, that tiger demon should be back in two days.”

“Does he have any family?” Zhuyou asked.

“No one else.” Huoshu thought for a moment before adding, “At least, as far as I know. I haven’t seen anyone in a long time.”

“Where is his home? Take me there.” Zhuyou stood up.

Huoshu nodded quickly. “It’s in the city. If you wish to see it, we can go now. But… should we disguise ourselves? Wouldn’t this alert him?”

Zhuyou chuckled. “We’re not mowing the grass on his grave—why bother disguising ourselves?”

Huoshu’s heart pounded in fear. She had always known this Vermillion Phoenix was unfathomably powerful, but she hadn’t expected her sarcasm to be just as sharp. Still, she only dared to complain inwardly—there was no way she would speak ill of Guanshang, not when she had to tread carefully between both sides.

Changying stepped closer, leaning near Zhuyou’s ear and speaking in a low voice. “What’s going on with Wu Buzhi?”

Zhuyou’s ear tingled slightly, perhaps because the dragon’s breath was too light. She replied through mind transmission, Do you know who sold me the information about Cold Eye?

“When Cold Eye surfaced, I deliberately let the mortals find out about it,” Changying frowned.

But I received a letter from Wu Buzhi before the mortals even knew. Zhuyou’s lips remained pressed together, but her words slipped into Changying’s ears.

“How did Wu Buzhi find out?” Changying’s expression turned icy.

Huoshu withdrew the restriction and opened the door. “Your Grace, this way.”

Through mind transmission, Zhuyou continued, Someone from the Nine Heavens must have leaked it. You should investigate thoroughly. I suspect he’s not the only ancient devil still alive.

Changying’s pupils contracted sharply. She said coldly, “It seems we’ll need to start with the Heavenly Emperor.”

Zhuyou gave a slight nod, but before she could step forward, a pair of embroidered shoes suddenly slid onto her pale feet.

Changying moved her fingertips slightly, retracting her spiritual energy, and said with displeasure, “You should wear your shoes.”

Zhuyou curled her toes, as if the shoes were scorching hot. Her heartbeat quickened slightly. She pursed her lips and placed her feet on the ground, only to suddenly feel as though she had forgotten how to walk.

These weren’t shoes—they were shackles.

“Your Grace?” Huoshu found it odd. Why did she seem so absent-minded?

Zhuyou forced herself to take a step forward, though her pace was slightly slower. She muttered, “There’s a bug buzzing endlessly in my ear.”

Huoshu was confused. “I clearly lit insect-repelling incense. How could there still be bugs?”

Zhuyou answered in her mind, It’s a four-legged one.