Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 10

This matter must be kept quiet—no matter how happy she is, it mustn’t be spoken of. To others, she might have been a red mole or a white moonlight, but now she could at best be considered an annoying mosquito—one that instinctively makes people clap their hands together when they see it.

“What a pity indeed,” Zhuoxue said with feigned sentiment. “Still, for her to meet you, High King, in her final lifetime—that’s quite a blessing.”

Even flattery was something she had learned from the mortal world. Back on Qiufeng Ridge, little demons didn’t need to flatter or fawn over Lanhui. The learning hadn’t gone to waste. After all that time, she finally had a use for it.

“Blessing?” Longming’s crimson eyes rested deep in her shadowed sockets, appearing even darker under the unlit great hall. She pondered the fox’s smile, as though she were someone repeatedly possessed, and spoke in a flat tone. “If meeting me counts as a blessing, then how shallow must her blessings have been before?”

Judging by the tone, that person from the past hadn’t lived a good life.

The fox didn’t understand the joys and sorrows of mortals—they were truly difficult to comprehend. According to storytellers, sometimes wandering the world with no home was considered a good life, and sometimes a peaceful, stable one was ideal. Who knew how they decided?

How should she answer?

That person was dear to the tiger demon’s heart—how could she simply claim someone was born with bad luck? If she said the wrong thing, she’d lose more than she gained.

“How could it not be a blessing? My lord, you are so majestic. Meeting you is like bathing in a spring breeze, like tasting sweet nectar. I, a humble girl, traveled mountains and rivers, endured countless hardships to reach Lingkong Mountain, and was fortunate enough to behold your divine presence.” The fox wracked her brains and put her famously persuasive tongue to full use—rarely had she spoken with such enthusiasm.

After finishing, her mouth was dry, and she anxiously studied Longming’s expression, worried she hadn’t been flattering enough.

Longming had heard more flattery than the fox had ever sipped tea in the mortal world. These few words were still rather clumsy, but fortunately, she had no intention of exposing her. She simply said slowly, “With a tongue like that, I imagine the one who taught you—your Qiufeng Ridge mountain lord—must be even more skilled. Why hasn’t your mountain lord come today?”

Somehow, the conversation had dragged Lanhui into it.

Zhuoxue desperately wanted to keep Lanhui out of this storm—at this point, she wasn’t even sure she’d survive. Her eyes flickered, and she stammered, “I was born eloquent—not taught by the Mountain Lord. The Mountain Lord is shy and not good with people, so she sent me instead.”

“Not good with people?” Longming said calmly. “True. Since I came to the Cangqiong Realm, your Qiufeng Ridge mountain lord has only visited once. That place is said to be overgrown with weeds, low in spiritual energy—not exactly a pleasant place to live. Must be hard for her.”

How considerate that sounded. Yet Longming’s gaze remained so cold and piercing, it was impossible to find even a trace of genuine warmth.

Zhuoxue, growing desperate, forced a stiff smile. “Qiufeng Ridge is a backwater—dig three feet and you still won’t find a single treasure. The Mountain Lord is ashamed and hasn’t dared set foot on Lingkong Mountain in years. Please don’t blame her, my lord!”

“Then why would she now dare send you here?” Longming asked unhurriedly.

“She found a treasure,” the fox replied, eyes sparkling.

“Where is this treasure?” Longming asked, lounging in her seat, clearly curious what trick the fox would pull next.

The fox’s hands were empty. But she pointed at herself with a grin. “Right here.”

For a moment, Longming felt a mix of emotions. This foolish fox, with her silly smile and pretty face, didn’t seem like someone who lied—more like someone easily fooled. At first, she thought this fox resembled someone from her past. But the more she looked, the less she resembled her. Just a foolish fox, that’s all. So foolish, she probably wasn’t colluding with the pig demon.

“High King, please accept me.” Zhuoxue bowed, hands clasped, her black hair cascading down her back like a soft river. Her beast form had snow-white fur, but in human form, she bore a head of jet-black hair.

Longming watched for a long while, finding no signs of illusion magic, and said, “Enough. The banquet isn’t over yet. Go find qiūróu lǐnghuó (Qiurou and receive your task).”

“Qiū lǎohǔ (Autumn Tiger)? Where am I supposed to find one?” the fox muttered inwardly. There wasn’t any Autumn Tiger—only a White Tiger.

“I said, go find Qiurou and receive your task,” Longming insisted, convinced this fox was genuinely hard of hearing.

Who was Qiurou?

The fox looked up slightly, eyes wide and round. Most foxes had long, narrow eyes, but hers were different. Her eyes too held autumn waters, but not from a crescent moon bay—instead, they came from a peach blossom pool.

(T/N: A wordplay of eye shapes. Basically saying that Zhuoxue’s eyes aren’t slanted and thin like most foxes, but instead they’re “peach blossom”-shaped, which is rounder, as Chinese literature described it)

“The steward who exposed your cover earlier,” Longming added, lowering her gaze. “You don’t even know that, and you dare pretend to be a mountain-dwelling attendant?”

Zhuoxue grew more confused. “Even a personal attendant has to get assignments from someone else?”

The personal attendants she’d seen in the mortal world only ever obeyed their immediate masters.

Longming lowered her eyes and smiled faintly, the sharpness in her gaze softened, leaving only charm—enough to outshine the heavens. “Do you think anyone can be my personal attendant? You’ll need at least three to five days of testing before I know if you’re up to the task,” she said.

That… did make some sense.

Zhuoxue’s doubts were dispelled. Just before stepping out of the hall, she even glanced back anxiously, afraid the tiger demon was just toying with her.

Outside, laughter echoed through the skies. When the shadow of a figure emerged from the hall, the gathered demons momentarily quieted.

Fortunately, the fox who exited was intact—no broken limbs, no weeping face. The banquet soon resumed, cups clinking and spirits high. The demons no longer feared that they might unknowingly offend and bring misfortune.

That demon called Qiurou was moving about, refilling wine cups for the demon lords one by one, leaning close to whisper polite greetings.

Once the wine was all poured, Zhuoxue shyly sidled up. “Steward, Her Lordship sent me to receive my task.”

Qiurou looked the fox up and down, showing no particular expression—only mild curiosity. “Aren’t you supposed to be a personal attendant? Why come to me for assignments? Did Her Lordship really send you?”

The fox still wore a smile, eyes curved like blossoms.

Qiurou thought for a moment, then turned to glance toward the hall doors. Inside, the silver-haired demon lord was stepping out with an indifferent gaze, nodding in greeting to the approaching great demons.

Qiurou had made up her mind. She raised her chin slightly toward the foot of the mountain and said with a smile, “The aged tribute wine at the banquet is nearly finished. Go down the mountain and bring up two full vats. The banquet must continue for seven more days—do not neglect our guests.”

Zhuoxue stopped smiling. Back at Qiufeng Ridge, she had never done any heavy labor. Just the thought of hauling two massive wine vats felt like it could cost her her fox life.

This was outright exploitation!

“Still not going?” Qiurou pressed.

Zhuoxue stammered, “Where… where are the vats?”

“There’s only one cave at the base of Wuji Cliff. With a fox’s nose, you should easily find it by scent. Are you afraid you won’t?” Qiurou said gently.

Unfortunately, this steward was all politeness and kindness—no trace of mockery on her face, her tone completely sincere.

Zhuoxue had just narrowly survived—how dared she slack off now? She turned and headed down the mountain.

Well, carrying two vats of wine might help build her arm strength.

A personal attendant—just the name sounded impressive. Ten inches or eight feet close, clothing brushing against clothing—that was close. She would climb right into the High King’s bed, pin that tiger demon down so tightly she couldn’t move, unable to cry out to heaven or earth—and then make cooked rice out of raw. Then again, she didn’t even know how to cook rice. Probably just touching the tiger’s butt was close enough.

(T/N: Cooking rice is the Chinese jargon of “making love”)

The fox wasn’t brave in most things—but she was brave in her thoughts. The more she imagined, the more she felt like a genius. She hopped and skipped halfway down the mountain, then suddenly remembered: the illusion array at the mountain’s base had only just been destroyed. She didn’t know if the Ghost-Inviting Grass were still around.

And where there were Ghost-Inviting Grass, there would be hungry ghosts. She didn’t fear ghosts—only ugly and ferocious ones.

Thinking of those spirits, her legs turned weak. She wasn’t even sure she could carry those two vats of wine now.

To make things worse, Lingkong Mountain rose high into the clouds. Climbing up was easier than going down. Even using demon power to fly through clouds and mist would be utterly exhausting.

From the foot of the mountain came the occasional wail—clearly from hungry ghosts. Ghostly energy surged skyward, replacing the old mist with a dark fog blacker than ink, engulfing the mountain base.

Zhuoxue cursed inwardly. Well done, Longming. You’re using a butcher’s blade to kill a chicken. All this elaborate scheming just to kill me? 

She had no idea what the patrol demons were doing—off gallivanting while the hungry ghosts ran rampant down below.

So… was she still going to carry that wine?

Zhuoxue didn’t want to do it anymore. But she also didn’t want to go back up the mountain and get punished. Just earlier, she had been full of excitement, even had her little drama all scripted—and now she was completely deflated.

Since she was already down the mountain, why not just flee back to Qiufeng Ridge? She didn’t want to get married anymore. Going home in disgrace wasn’t so bad. Let Lanhui think what she wanted. If that tiger demon High King asked, she’d just say Qiufeng Ridge had recalled their gift, and would send another gift another day.

Zhuoxue was always this way. Lanhui always said her temperament was unstable, fickle. But Zhuoxue disagreed. She wasn’t the type to fish for three days and dry the net for two. When she had a thought, she acted on it—it was just called cutting losses in time.

Exactly. Pulling back from the cliff’s edge—never too late. As the saying goes: of the thirty-six stratagems, retreat is best. 

The fox lifted her skirt hem and tiptoed her way around Wuji Cliff. She wasn’t afraid of an intruder ambushing her. That demon had come for Longming. Even if they crossed paths, as long as she played dumb, they probably wouldn’t bother killing her.

Her plan was perfect—but reality had other ideas. She was just about to exit the peaks of Lingkong Mountain when a sudden whistle hit her ears.

It was demon energy.

And not a friendly one—it spun violently toward her, fierce and overbearing. Though not nearly as oppressive as Longming’s, it was still not to be underestimated.

Zhuoxue’s pupils contracted. Are they really trying to silence me? I didn’t even see a shadow!

She wasn’t one to be bullied. If others pushed her too far, she pushed back. With a flick of her wrist, she whipped out a ten-section soft whip. As she stepped back, silver bells rang out.

“You think I’m just here to be eaten?” the fox muttered.

No one answered—only demon wind rustled. The swirling demon energy dragged the Ghost-Inviting Grass from afar, drawing in a surge of hungry ghosts. Instantly, black mist blotted out the sky, rocks tumbled and crashed.

Perhaps not tens of thousands, but at least thousands! If the ghosts had physical forms, the place would be completely sealed off.

The infiltrator had never planned to act directly—they were using ghostly power to weave a cage here.

As the daylight above was swallowed whole, Zhuoxue transformed into a white fox, darting through the cracks between stones like a burrowing mole, squeezing through any gap she could find.

No wonder the patrol demons weren’t around—this kind of hungry ghost army wasn’t something ordinary demons could fend off.

So ruthless, Longming. Not only had she left Lingkong Mountain’s demons and ghosts uncleansed, she was even using them to harm her, under the lofty name of “testing.”

Longming, this fox’s wrath isn’t something you can bear—

Forget it. The fox scrambled wildly, running headlong into rocks until stars danced in her eyes. She was decent at fleeing for her life, but her anger could only burn for a moment or two.