Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 27

Zhuoxue was deeply relieved that Longming hadn’t harbored murderous intent—just a single touch to her brow could have been enough to end her life.

Strangely, though Longming hadn’t actually touched her, a subtle chill seeped into her skin and flesh.

It was pressure.

The oppressive aura common to powerful demons was carefully concealed by Longming, but still followed the flow of her demon energy like spring rain, slipping into every crevice, cool and penetrating.

“Don’t move,” Longming said.

Zhuoxue trembled under the pressure, her spiritual platform quaking uncontrollably.

The small demon core on her spiritual platform, like a glazed bead, bounced back and forth a few times, throwing her energy and blood into chaos, causing a tempest within.

Shivering uncontrollably, Zhuoxue instinctively clutched Longming’s slender fingers. Her lips parted, stammering, “The pressure of a demon and that of an immortal are very different. That Underworld King is half-god, half-ghost—it’s even stranger. You’re not trying to make me get used to it this way, are you?”

How could anyone get used to that? Unless her soul went numb. The fox grumbled inwardly.

“You’ve been cultivating for half an hour—your demon energy should have improved. I’m checking your progress,” Longming said calmly, making no move to withdraw her hand, allowing Zhuoxue to hold on.

Cold sweat broke across Zhuoxue’s back. “I thought your way of checking meant having me demonstrate one technique at a time.”

“If I waited for that, we’d be here until the end of time,” Longming said with a faint smile.

Zhuoxue had no retort. If she had to go through each incantation one by one, it would take ages.

Fortunately, Longming’s demon energy wasn’t too fierce at the moment. After the initial chill passed, it became like a hammer gently warmed by kind hands—tapping against her now and then. She felt like a lump of soft clay soaked in spring rain, reduced to a pliable puddle.

The demon energy traveled through her tendons and meridians, into her dantian, like an elusive wisp of smoke, wandering at will. It was also like a tiger roaming the mountains—brazen and thorough, inspecting every corner without omission.

Zhuoxue gripped tighter and tighter. Good thing Longming’s hand wasn’t a delicate pear, or it would’ve been crushed beyond recognition.

She could faintly sense that Longming’s sharp, cold aura had reached the edge of her demon core and was now darting wildly around it. Her spiritual platform, along with her demon core, had begun to absorb that aura. She couldn’t tell anymore whether the spiritual reservoir within her still truly belonged to her.

This was bad—she couldn’t resist it. Worse, she even wanted more. Clearly, it was the season and her demon nature at fault!

Zhuoxue pressed her lips together, pretending to be unfazed, though her grip didn’t loosen. The spiritual energy within her, like fish to a lotus, quietly clung to Longming’s aura. Only now did the little fox finally understand what Lanhui had meant by “hating iron for not becoming steel.”

“Loosen a little,” Longming said, brows slightly furrowed.

Zhuoxue let go, but lost her balance and stumbled forward—thankfully not a complete faceplant—landing right against Longming.

But Longming hadn’t had time to pull her hand back, and her fingertip happened to poke one of Zhuoxue’s ticklish spots.

The fox-eared girl couldn’t help herself. She doubled over, giggling uncontrollably, tears welling in her lashes.

Caught off guard, Longming paused her energy flow briefly and explained, “It’s your spiritual energy—it needs to shift aside a bit.”

Zhuoxue had no idea how to shift it. She stepped back and said, “Why don’t we spar instead? If I can apply what I’ve learned, that counts as success, doesn’t it?” Surely that would be more useful than probing her spiritual platform. And it wouldn’t be so hard to endure.

Longming looked doubtful. “Spar with those three or four little techniques of yours?”

Zhuoxue nodded despite herself. “In sparring, the point is to stop short of serious harm. I’m no expert—you are. So you stop short, and I go all out. In a real fight, maybe I’ll be able to use everything I’ve just learned.”

Longming lowered her gaze, smiling faintly. Just then, she noticed a few silver strands among the fox’s black hair—thin and delicate, similar to her natural color but even finer.

If Zhuoxue could break through her current level, her demon energy would surge and her hair would likely turn entirely silver—like woven silk, like melting snow cascading from the mountains, like a rainbow arching through the moonlight.

It was worth a try.

Longming looked directly into Zhuoxue’s eyes, her expression solemn and free of jest. “I’ll give you the time of one incense stick. In that time, use everything you’ve ever learned.”

Zhuoxue took a deep breath. So she’s serious, huh?

Still, one incense stick wasn’t nearly enough time to exhaust her full arsenal. Longming was clearly underestimating her. Eager and excited, Zhuoxue rubbed her palms together. “And what counts as a win for me?”

“If you force me to counterattack, you win,” Longming replied easily. With that, she retracted her hand, crossed her legs, and floated down gracefully onto a wooden chair in a relaxed pose.

Zhuoxue wasn’t about to be intimidated. A counterattack? She had plenty of tricks up her sleeve.

Longming, leaning sideways against the desk, flicked her wrist, and a mountain-shaped incense holder appeared in midair, presenting a stick of incense.

White smoke curled upward—signaling the beginning of their match.

Zhuoxue started with her first move, taking her time with each gesture, not even caring whether the spells she cast would be effective or not. She turned her palm over and sent out a ripple of clear water. The wave spun toward Longming, but before it could even wet the hem of Longming’s robe, it evaporated into mist.

Longming watched the glimmer of water disappear in an instant and said calmly, “Again.”

Zhuoxue remained composed and moved on to the second technique, forming seals with her fingers and turning her wrist. Though her movements seemed slightly unskilled, this round was clearly more powerful. The window lattice creaked as it was struck by a sudden gust of wind, and the white deer paper held down by a ruler fluttered faintly.

The wind brushed against Longming’s face, barely lifting a lock of her silver hair.

Longming couldn’t help but think, This fox’s sparring feels more like fooling around. How is this any different from showcasing one spell after another? She fell silent for a moment before lightly parting her lips. “What are you doing?”

“Giving it my all,” Zhuoxue replied without changing expression. If Longming hadn’t limited her to a single stick of incense’s time, she really would have gone through every technique from first to last, step by step.

Longming hadn’t truly expected this fox to force her to retaliate. But to her surprise, Zhuoxue executed each of the techniques with convincing accuracy. Though still a bit clumsy, there were no mistakes. To be able to grasp so many spells to this degree so quickly was no small feat. If not for the restrictions binding her, Zhuoxue’s cultivation would certainly be higher.

“What kind of battle strategy is this?” Longming remained motionless, watching the fox summon thunder and lightning one moment and call forth fire and flying stones the next.

“I heard it once while listening to storytellers in the mortal world,” Zhuoxue said as she continued forming seals. “Two nations at war—one divided their forces to launch wave after wave of attacks, exhausting the enemy until they could no longer fight back.”

Longming brushed away the water droplets that had reached her face. “But there has to be some actual impact for exhaustion to occur.”

Zhuoxue, now tired from repeatedly forming seals, glanced at the tiger demon before her—still completely unharmed—and panted, “You’re right.”

So no more little winds, and no more splashing water.

After a short break, seeing that the incense stick was nearly burnt through, Zhuoxue raised her palm again. Her demonic energy surged forth—half clear, half murky—just like her spiritual platform. Though it didn’t change the color of the skies, it could stir mighty rivers to crash through jade gorges, send stone shards flying through the air. In an instant, the sheer curtains in the bedchamber billowed, the bed and wooden chairs clattered and shifted, all thrown into chaos by her demonic power.

Longming gave a light chuckle and tapped the table with a finger, instantly subduing all the furnishings in the room.

Zhuoxue seemed dazed. Her lowered gaze suddenly lifted, and her amber eyes transformed into golden beast pupils. It was like frost had suddenly fallen. Her dark hair now bore even more strands of white. Unaware of the change, she continued to gather her strength and focus. A proud yet pure demonic energy surged forward like a mountain flood, rushing toward the silver-haired demon.

Longming had underestimated the fox and had no choice but to raise her arm in defense.

Just then, the surging power suddenly dissipated, and in front of her, the slender girl abruptly transformed into a white-furred fox. The golden beast pupils faded back to normal.

Longming hesitated for a moment, instinctively withdrawing her strength.

The fox leapt forward and bit onto Longming’s arm. Her entire body dangled mid-air, tail swaying lightly. Through the robe, her sharp teeth couldn’t pierce the enchanted fabric, so Longming naturally felt no pain. The next moment, she lifted the fox by the scruff and pressed her onto the writing desk.

Zhuoxue let go with her teeth, rolled onto her back with all four paws in the air, and cheerfully declared, “You fought back!”

Longming gave a soft snort and lifted her sleeve to examine it closely, searching for the spot where fox drool had left a mark.

“You admit it, right?” Zhuoxue wagged her tail triumphantly. “How did I do?”

She barely finished her sentence before Longming’s slender fingers pressed against her mouth.

Longming, feeling her sharp little teeth, said, “You’re pretty skilled. And those teeth are quite sharp too.”

Mouth agape, Zhuoxue mumbled indistinctly, “Fox teeth can’t ward off evil, don’t pull mine out!”

Longming withdrew her hand and looked at the fluffy creature before her. Unable to resist, she laid her fingers gently on her fur and gave it a light rub.

The fox wriggled on the desk, the ticklish sensation rising from deep in her bones. Her large tail swished restlessly, scattering white fur everywhere.

Just then, a sudden heat flared up behind her, and she shot into Longming’s arms like a fully drawn arrow.

At that moment, Zhuoxue couldn’t care about being embarrassed. She thought she was in human form and began pawing at her head, trying to feel for hair—finding none, she switched to tugging at her tail fur instead.

She thought, Could it be the sparring loosened the seal again?

This time the loosening was intense. That heat had flared across a wide area—her hair must have turned even whiter.

“What are you squirming for?” Longming was nearly knocked off balance by the restless fox in her arms, white fur clinging to her face and stirring up a ticklish itch.

“It was so hot!” Zhuoxue froze, realizing she was still in beast form. There was no hair—only fur. Then she thought again—why wasn’t it hot anymore? It was just that one sudden flare…

“There’s a reply from Kunyu.” Longming brushed fox fur off her face. “From now on, unless necessary, don’t shift back into your beast form.”

The fox’s body suddenly lengthened, white fur turning into snowy skin. She sat on Longming’s lap, slightly hunched, facing her directly.

“You—” The silver-haired great demon leaned back in surprise, words stuck on her lips.

Zhuoxue, innocent and unafraid, rubbed at her scorched, painful back and muttered, “You were the one who told me to shift into human form.” She turned to look at the desk, where ink slowly appeared on the paper. But the marks were just like when Longming wrote—each character appeared and then faded away. “There are words! Look, they’re disappearing!” she exclaimed.

As she spoke, she curled her toes from the chill of the floor. Before she could climb off Longming’s lap, she was pulled in tight.

With no time for anything else, Longming quickly moved the paperweight and lifted the white deer paper from the desk.

Just in time. Any later, and she wouldn’t have been able to read the full message.

The paper bore several lines of slanted writing, the characters uneven in size—some so faint they were barely legible.

Zhuoxue twisted around to examine them, stunned at how vast the difference was between one great demon and another. Even if Longming didn’t use a fine brush, her writing would never turn out like this.

“The soul blossoms are nearing the end of their bloom. No celestial visitors have appeared. The Yellow Spring Palace has held no banquet. The King of the Underworld remains behind closed doors. There may be unrest in Kunlun Yaojing.”

Unrest?

Longming fell into thought, then withdrew her hand and gently pushed Zhuoxue’s shoulder.

Zhuoxue had wanted to leave anyway. She leapt off like a rabbit, planted both hands on the table edge, and mumbled, “Are we really going to see the flowers?” Truth be told, she didn’t think the Yellow Spring Palace could produce anything truly beautiful. Even if the flowers bloomed vividly, it was hardly an ideal place for flower viewing. The place was steeped in ghostly gloom and eerie stillness. If a specter suddenly appeared while admiring flowers, one wouldn’t know if they were enjoying the blossoms—or the ghosts.

“It’s just a pretense to ask Kunyu about the Yellow Spring Palace,” Longming said calmly.

“So it’s not flower viewing at all. We’re heading straight for the Book of Life and Death.” Zhuoxue realized.

“Correct,” said Longming.

Zhuoxue grew uneasy. But this fierce tigress wouldn’t allow her to excuse herself, so she could only muster her courage and ask, “Then when are we going?”

“After the banquet.” Longming picked up a brush and casually wrote a few characters. “Afraid?”

Zhuoxue’s earlier bravado and excitement were all for show. With her current level of cultivation, she wasn’t even qualified to polish Longming’s claws—how could she dare walk into the dragon’s den?

“Why don’t we think it through more thoroughly?” Zhuoxue suggested.

“Don’t be afraid.” Longming paused her writing. “This is a matter of great importance. I’ve thought it through completely. On the road, I’ll make sure nothing happens to you.”