Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 13

Zhuoxue assumed this was the first time the big tiger had been personally attended to and thought perhaps she felt a little embarrassed. She let out a theatrical “Aiyah!” like a vendor hawking goods at a mortal market, then said cheerfully, “This little lady is well-versed in all eighteen techniques of personal service. I guarantee the High King will be satisfied.” 

In truth, she didn’t know a thing—she was just good at talking. She had already stayed at Lingkong Mountain, even laid in bed. If she were to leave now, wouldn’t that be a total loss? Not to mention, she’d been frightened for nothing.

“If you won’t leave on your own, I’ll send you out,” Longming said coolly.

Zhuoxue sat up slowly, sighing in regret. She’d wanted to pester her way into staying longer. Back at Qiufeng Ridge, that was exactly how she’d worn down Lanhui. Too bad Longming’s heart was harder than stone—no way it would soften that easily.

Forget it, forget it.

The silver-haired demon lord’s eyes were already blood-red and gloomy; even when smiling, they resembled a blood moon hanging in the sky. Now, with her eyes narrowed, that blood moon turned into a sickle. The hostility buried within came down like the heavy curtain of night.

The fox stared dazedly into those eyes, her mind slipping into a daydream without her control.

In the dream, a white tiger walked alone. With it nearby, not even a cat, dog, or insect could be seen.

Yet the white tiger would either rest quietly or stare into the distance, unmoving. It never chased away any living thing—not the kind that had to spill blood to prove itself.

It moved among towering pavilions, its large, graceful body as majestic as the city walls surrounding it.

The white tiger turned its head slowly, its eyes like tourmaline—serene and relaxed, full of calm…

Why was she having such a random and disconnected daydream? The white tiger in the dream was nothing like the tiger demon before her. Just because both were tigers didn’t mean she should fall into a dream without warning.

Green eyes and red eyes—they couldn’t be more different.

Zhuoxue shook her head. Just as she returned to her senses, she almost got her spirit pulled in by a pair of red eyes in the distance. It only lasted a second, but her bones went cold and her fur stood on end. The overwhelming pressure crushed her breath. Forced to bow low, her body nearly gave out. In a flash, she transformed back to her original form.

Tigers were known for their strong territorial instincts. She had intruded uninvited—this was basically asking to die.

Just moments ago she had been smug, but now the white fox shot out through the half-open window like a streak of smoke.

Outside, a mountain patrol demon happened to be passing by and was so startled by the sudden white blur leaping from the window that he stumbled backward, shouting, “Where’d that giant white rat come from? High King, I’ve come to help!”

The fox bared her teeth at him, her fluffy tail flicking anxiously a couple of times.

“Oh! It’s the new fox!” The mountain patrol demon realized her unusual identity—this was the one following the demon lord. He bowed again. “Apologies for the offense. Out so late—where are you headed?”

Running for my life, thought the fox.

Just then, a soft creak sounded from behind—the once half-open window shut tight. Clearly, it was Longming who had closed it.

The fox’s tail drooped at once. She didn’t have the heart to respond. With a whoosh, she tucked her tail and dashed off.

The night was thick and heavy, perfect for retreating. This was Longming who told her to leave—she wasn’t sneaking off on her own. She’d done her part and left the rest to fate. She knew well how hard it would be to fulfill Lanhui’s wishes. Retreating now wasn’t shameful at all.

On the quiet and desolate Lingkong Mountain, only a few scattered drunken murmurs echoed now and then. The fox, sneaky as a thief, tiptoed down the mountain. One misstep sent her sliding three feet down.

Mortals always said foxes were jiǎohuá (cunning). But as far as the fox concerned was herself—jiǎo huá (slipping) was definitely more accurate.

Sadly, no matter how slippery the mountain path was, she could only go on foot. Zhuoxue’s demonic power was shallow—if she relied on flying through the clouds, she’d probably run out of strength before even getting halfway down the mountain. If something unexpected happened then, how could she possibly handle it?

Strangely enough, she hadn’t walked more than a few steps before her body started heating up. Sweat quickly soaked through her collar.

Something wasn’t right. Zhuoxue hissed softly. It wasn’t physical exertion that made her hot—it was her nape that was burning. It stung like there was an oil lamp pressed against the back of her neck. The pain came from the same spot as earlier that day. At the time, she’d been too busy fleeing for her life to investigate properly. When the pain had stopped, she’d simply forgotten about it. Now, reaching behind to touch it, she couldn’t feel any abrasions—no wound to explain the burning pain.

Zhuoxue clutched the back of her neck as she made her way down the mountain. Along the way, she saw little demons sprawled out all over the mountain, some hanging upside down from treetops, others curled into rock crevices—sleeping in a hundred different bizarre positions.

She tiptoed carefully, afraid to disturb them. Even when the pain made her gasp, she didn’t dare make a sound.

As she descended, she noticed that the demons on Lingkong Mountain looked far more like actual demons than those on Qiufeng Ridge. Maybe it was because Lanhui was too law-abiding—the demons of Qiufeng Ridge were all unusually disciplined, even sleeping in unnaturally neat positions.

She missed Qiufeng Ridge. One day away felt like three autumns apart.

By now, most of the guests had fallen asleep. Anyone still awake and moving around was likely just the mountain patrols. That intruding pig demon still hadn’t been caught—how could the little demons sleep peacefully?

Zhuoxue avoided the patrolling demons, but the heat at the back of her neck only intensified. It burned so fiercely she couldn’t help but bare her teeth in pain. It wasn’t just her skin anymore—it felt like even her bones were being scorched. But when she reached back to touch it, there was still no sign of injury. With how hot it was, her skin should have been charred and dry, yet it was smooth as ever. When touched by her frost-chilled hand, the cool relief nearly made her sigh aloud.

Zhuoxue suddenly stopped in her tracks, recalling how Longming had mentioned that her nape was glowing. She was starting to believe her—maybe her nape really was glowing?

That had to be it. The glow was making her burn with pain, wasn’t it? Could it be that her demon core had grown in the wrong place, and now it was acting up?

The more she thought about it, the more she longed to return to Qiufeng Ridge. Many mortals felt homesick when they fell ill—demons were no different.

There were lanterns in the mountains. Though the light was dim and murky, it was still enough to illuminate the vast, sprawling maze below.

All the ghouls had already been cleared out, so there was no more danger of being attacked by hungry ghosts. But the burning at her nape was overwhelming, making it nearly impossible to move. It felt as though the flames were growing stronger, the heat impossible to endure.

She touched her forehead—no fever there. The heat was only at her neck. Of course, chills and fevers were mortal illnesses. How could she, a demon, catch something like that?

Zhuoxue grew increasingly anxious, wishing she could cover ten miles in a single step and get back to Lanhui at once. But Lingkong Mountain was enormous, its peaks endless, range after range of towering ridges.

Just as she was about to step into the illusion array, a gust of demonic wind swept through the mountains, shaking the branches and leaves. The shadows cast across her face twisted into clawing shapes.

The presence was hostile.

It carried the same ruthless intent as before—an aura of killing that showed no restraint, a murderous force that spared nothing.

This was far more terrifying than the look Longming had given her earlier. As fierce as Longming had been, at least she was only trying to scare her. This time, the demonic aura truly wanted her dead!

Zhuoxue couldn’t understand. Could it be that the pig demon and those hungry ghosts hadn’t come for Lingkong Mountain at all? But she was just an ordinary fox spirit from the countryside—what power did she have that could make such powerful demons and ghosts go so far just to kill her?

The demonic wind surged like a hurricane, slamming her back a hundred feet. Her body turned ethereal, drifting like a wisp of cloud halfway down the mountain.

Fortunately, the mountain trees were thick with branches. She hastily grabbed onto a sturdy one nearby, anchoring herself in midair.

The approaching demonic energy suddenly solidified, transforming into a dense barrage of a thousand gray blades, their sharp tips all aimed directly at her.

Still hanging midair, the fox had no time to dodge. She clung to the thick branch with one hand and flicked her long sleeve, sending a wave of energy to try and disrupt the incoming blades.

But the pig demon’s power was clearly beyond hers—her effort was like a worm shaking a tree. She barely managed to knock aside two blades; the rest held steady, unmoved.

She was in trouble.

If only she had been diligent in her cultivation, maybe she’d be able to put up a fight now.

As the dense net of blades was about to turn her into a pincushion, she made a split-second decision. Gritting her teeth, she let go of the branch. The wind howled in her ears as she fell. Her slender figure plummeted like a falling rock. Amazingly, she wasn’t skewered by the blades—only a few locks of her long hair were sliced off, and her once-neat braid unraveled.

The silver bells on her ankles jingled wildly. Lanhui had tied them on her specifically to track her whereabouts. Now, they sounded an alarm, their ringing echoing faintly through the mountain range. But compared to the chirping of insects, the bells were far too quiet—who knew if anyone would even hear them?

Zhuoxue suddenly grabbed at the mountainside. Her nails extended like hooked claws, growing nearly two inches long in an instant, scraping sharp sparks off the rock face.

Just as her nails began to split and tear, she barely managed to stop herself from falling further.

She didn’t dare relax. With a twist of her slender waist, she swung herself into a cave halfway up the mountain, quickly pressing her back against the stone wall and covering her mouth and nose to conceal herself.

Her nails were torn and broken, her hands a bloodied mess. In the past, she would’ve cried out from the pain, but now she didn’t dare—not even to breathe too heavily.

The cave was pitch black. She had no idea where it led, or whether something unexpected might be waiting on the other end.

She hadn’t expected to run into the pig demon—the very one that the mountain patrol and the leopard had been searching for all day.

No, it wasn’t a coincidence. The pig demon was clearly targeting her. There was no way it could be this random!

Outside the cave, the demonic wind howled past. Just as the fox lowered her hands, the retreating wind suddenly reversed direction and came surging back in. The black demonic energy was like a crushing storm cloud, aggressively pouring into the cave, trying to seal it shut.

Zhuoxue was nearly knocked over again. Through the thick mist, a severed-fingered hand suddenly thrust forward. It was the pig demon.

But in that instant, the mist froze in place—even that hand with the missing finger stopped midair, unable to move.

“Don’t move,” a voice came from behind her.

Zhuoxue’s heart pounded like a war drum. Her entire body went rigid, her soul almost fleeing her body, her gaze scattering. She didn’t dare turn around. The overwhelming pressure enveloped her completely. Like a chiseled hand, its fingers brushed past her ear. 

And just like reaching into a bag, Longming easily snapped the pig demon’s wrist.