Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 12

Under Longming’s fingertip, that facial skin was so perfectly fitted to the bone that not a trace of magic could be found—it truly seemed natural.

“Never lie?” Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly, and when she stared at someone, it was like being engulfed by two blazing flames, making it impossible to speak falsely.

“Of course, I dare swear it to the heavens.” Zhuoxue, touched by that hand, felt the thoughts she had suppressed now daringly surface once more.

What if she patted the tiger’s butt once? 

The first time is unfamiliar, the second time familiar. After a few more pats, there would be no need for all this mutual suspicion. Those “married first, fall in love later” stories filled the mortal world. She had heard so many that her ears were calloused. She knew all the tricks by heart and was confident she could play the part well.

It all depended on…

Whether this big white tiger would give her the chance.

Longming withdrew her hand, just as she was about to check the sigil on the fox’s nape again, but saw that the mark had completely merged with the skin and vanished without a trace. Her gaze darkened slightly, and she turned to Chunxi. “Send an invitation to the mountain lord of Qiufeng Ridge. I’ve accepted her gift and must thank her in person.”

Chunxi accepted the order and vanished in a puff of smoke, likely off to deliver the invitation.

Whatever schemes Zhuoxue had in mind vanished instantly. Her expression shifted rapidly.

She was doomed. Lanhui had no idea that she’d sent herself to Lingkong Mountain as a gift. There was no way to hide it now. Worse yet, if her story didn’t match Lanhui’s, Longming would surely grow suspicious again!

“Th-there’s no need to thank her,” Zhuoxue stammered. “The Mountain Lord has the courage of a grain of rice. She’s terrified of strangers. If startled, her body will stiffen and feign death. Please, my lord, retract the invitation.”

“She’s that shy, and her body goes stiff?” Longming clearly didn’t believe it.

Zhuoxue silently apologized to Aunt Lan a hundred times in her heart. “It’s absolutely true!”

“Then have her carried here.” Longming said with a half-smile.

Zhuoxue’s eyes widened in shock. Now there were even more inconsistencies between her story and Lanhui’s.

In truth, Lanhui wasn’t shy at all, and she certainly wouldn’t fall over in fear.

Longming’s smile faded. “Did Qiurou send you down the mountain?”

“She told me to fetch wine,” Zhuoxue replied, not believing for a second that Longming didn’t know the real reason. Surely the master and servant had long since coordinated this vicious scheme to torment her.

Longming spoke slowly. “The wine is at the base of Wuji Cliff, and you’ve taken quite the detour.”

Zhuoxue braced herself and said, “There were hungry ghosts all over the base of Wuji Cliff earlier. I couldn’t get down there. I thought I’d circle around to report, but the ghosts caught my scent and chased me—I couldn’t avoid them.”

“Were you carrying Ghost-Inviting Grass?” Longming lowered her head, silver hair cascading from her shoulders, draping over her arm. She lightly pinched the corner of Zhuoxue’s collar and stared straight into her eyes. “Otherwise, why would the hungry ghosts chase you?”

Zhuoxue didn’t dare meet her gaze. She flicked her sleeves to show her innocence. “I wouldn’t dare! If I touched the Ghost-Inviting Grass, I’d have to kick it away myself.” She paused, then added, “I’d never use any kind of self-harm ploy. Please don’t misjudge me. If you don’t believe me, search me!”

“What if it fell into a crevice? How would I find it?” Longming indeed didn’t smell any trace of Ghost-Inviting Grass, so she let go.

Zhuoxue, unable to defend herself, muttered, “Even if I plucked every flower on Lingkong Mountain, I wouldn’t touch a single Ghost-Inviting Grass.”

Across Lingkong Mountain, wild grass was lush, tree shadows danced—green as far as the eye could see. Not a single speck of bright color. The greenery was too monotonous. From top to bottom, there wasn’t a single flower on the mountain. But since this was the fox’s first time in Lingkong Mountain, she didn’t notice anything strange.

“Smooth talker. However, there are no flowers on Lingkong Mountain. If you can, show me one.” The silver-haired demon lord sneered and turned away.

Still sitting on the ground, Zhuoxue looked up—and caught sight of the demon lord’s beautiful back… and that—

Slightly more ample area.

Her thoughts were immediately flooded by phrases from the mortal world, like “more charming than flowers,” and “as beautiful as jade.”

“There’s one right in front of me,” Zhuoxue blurted out.

The demon lord paused. Had she gone hard of hearing too?

The girl sat slumped on the gravel, her pale face tilted slightly upward to look at her. A faint smudge of gray lingered near her temple, likely from brushing against the mountainside. She looked quite pitiful.

Longming assumed this fox was talking nonsense again, and she hadn’t misheard by accident. She said flatly, “Come with me up the mountain first.”

“What about the wine?” Zhuoxue asked hesitantly.

“No need to fetch it.”

Zhuoxue wondered, then what was the point of her coming down? She had nearly lost her life for nothing!

In the distance, the demon lord was strolling leisurely toward the main peak. Wherever she passed, mist spread, and the mountain shadows became vague and indistinct—it was impossible to tell where one was. The illusion array actually restored itself, slowly and seamlessly, with just one step of hers, as effortlessly as plucking a flower or bending a twig.

Zhuoxue scrambled to her feet. The fog was thick, and for a moment she couldn’t tell which direction Longming had gone. She reached out and managed to catch hold of a corner of her sleeve.

Longming didn’t brush her off, but to her surprise, that hand became rather bold and began groping around her waist and back. Caught off guard, she seized the fox’s wandering wrist. It was slender—her hand could wrap around it with room to spare.

“What are you feeling for?” Longming asked.

The fox blinked and dared not act recklessly. She stammered, “I-I was afraid of grabbing the wrong person…”

“Who else could it be besides me?”

“Who knows.” The fox’s eyes darted about. “What if that pig demon hasn’t left and still wants to abduct me?”

The great demon suddenly stopped, causing the fox to bump right into her.

“Hungry ghosts are chasing you, and now pig demons want to abduct you too?” Longming said with a faint smirk.

Zhuoxue mumbled some vague agreement, “I must be really desirable, or else why would I be sent here as a gift?”

“How rare indeed—a gift with legs, able to walk itself off the mountain.” Longming released her wrist.

“I was just avoiding the hungry ghosts, not running away,” Zhuoxue denied flatly.

“No need to run anymore. Just stay put. I doubt they’d dare appear in front of me,” Longming said, her words layered with meaning.

Zhuoxue took a soft breath—this was clearly a threat!

Still, it made sense. With the demon lord of the Cangqiong Realm beside her, even if a thousand hungry ghosts came flying at her, they might not be able to harm her.

***

At the main peak, drums and flutes rang out as guests toasted and drank, undisturbed by the earlier quake that had shaken the earth and mountains. Some little demons, unable to hold their liquor during the endless rounds of wine, drunkenly reverted to their original forms and passed out along the mountain paths.

Seeing the demon lord return, the steward Qiurou stepped forward. Her gaze flickered toward the figure behind her and she said in a low voice, “My lord, this fox…”

“Keep her for now,” said Longming.

Zhuoxue didn’t catch the words clearly, but she noticed Qiurou’s eyes flashing toward her. She quickly placed her empty hands behind her back and whispered, “Her Lordship said the wine doesn’t need to be fetched for now.”

Qiurou gave a small smirk.

“Could you assign me another task?” Zhuoxue rubbed her hidden hands together and eyed the banquet table full of dishes, clearly a bit tempted. She had to find a way to stay out of Longming’s and this steward’s sight.

Qiurou lowered her voice and pointed elsewhere with her index finger. “Go serve tea and wine to the demon lords over there.”

Zhuoxue didn’t recognize any of the demon lords. The different auras of the demons mingled together, and she couldn’t even tell whose power was stronger. But since guests were guests, she moved over and poured tea and wine for all of them.

The silver-haired demon lord chuckled softly and strolled away. Though she was the one who had organized this banquet, she was also the most solitary. She neither drank with the others nor sat at the banquet, instead walking alone into the hall like the proud and solitary sovereign of all beasts.

Zhuoxue’s hand paused slightly as she poured wine, catching sight of that solitary figure.

Perhaps she had been staring too openly, because Longming actually turned around, returning her gaze with an unreadable look.

If it were another demon standing before that vast, empty hall, Zhuoxue might have felt a sense of desolation. That dark, towering gate looked like a giant beast ready to swallow a person whole. But after being caught by that cold, piercing gaze, she instead felt that it wasn’t the great hall that would devour someone—but its master. How could a demon’s very silhouette be so sharp, stabbing like a spear into her eyes? Her mere presence seemed to claim territory around her, an invisible pressure radiating outward.

Zhuoxue had never met the Nightmare King, but she thought that if Wugou River had a master, it would surely be someone like Longming.

Once that figure had completely disappeared into the hall, Zhuoxue snapped back to her senses and said with a nervous smile, “Do you demon lords play leaf cards?”

The demon lord of Jueming Ridge, Kunyu, was still shrouded in black wind, half her face hidden by a skull mask, making it hard to read her expression. She looked lofty and untouchable, but was actually quite approachable.

Kunyu raised an eyebrow. “That seems to be a mortal world game. You actually know how to play it?”

Zhuoxue really did pull a deck of leaf cards from her sleeve, rubbing her hands together eagerly. “Here’s the deal: if I lose, I’ll drink as punishment. If one of you demon lords loses, you may do as you please.”

It wasn’t really about the wine—it was clearly about the meat.

An hour later, what had started as a dignified gathering of demons had turned into a chaotic, shouting mess—just like a tavern in the mortal world.

Qiurou leaned against a wine jar, dumbfounded. She had no idea what spell this fox had cast to actually convince a group of powerful demons to join in a mortal world game.

***

As night deepened, the demons either headed back to their homes or stayed the night on Lingkong Mountain.

Zhuoxue, full of food and wine, started asking a nearby little demon where Longming was staying.

The little demon truly believed this fox to be the demon lord’s personal attendant and pointed the way with admiration. “Easy, easy. Just ahead—follow the stone path east for a hundred feet. When you see a pavilion leaning against the green cliffs, turn left and walk another hundred feet. That’s the demon lord’s bedchamber.”

The fox followed the path and actually found the place.

No one was inside, and the interior wasn’t decorated with gold or silver, but judging by the soft gauze curtains and jade screens, it was more refined and luxurious than any wealthy household in town.

Demons, born of sun and moon essence, usually lived however they pleased. Even the most renowned demons rarely stayed in such square, restrained houses.

Zhuoxue was rather surprised. This demon lord of the Cangqiong Realm not only bore a mortal’s surname, but even lived like one. She couldn’t help but wonder how much weight that nameless old acquaintance held in the demon lord’s heart.

She cast a spell to sober herself up and quietly sat on the snow-silk mattress. The moment she sat down, it was so soft that she felt drowsy. Back at Qiufeng Ridge, she’d slept on worn-down stone slabs—nothing like this comfort.

She didn’t know how long had passed when the door creaked open. The silver-haired demon lord, wrapped in a fur cloak, stood still at the threshold, as if gathering her thoughts.

After a long silence—

“Who told you to lie there?”

The fox woke up and propped up her chin. “What’s a close personal attendant supposed to do? High King, wouldn’t you say this is close enough?”

“Get out yourself.”