Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 28

Seeing Longming’s calm expression, it seemed like she had thought it through thoroughly. And yet, half of that one sentence came from a fox’s mouth. Zhuoxue grumbled inwardly. What a big old tiger, resorting to parroting others. But as a magnanimous fox, she wouldn’t fuss over it. That said, Longming’s words were surprisingly on point. The fear that had just risen in her heart vanished in an instant. All that talk of Yellow Spring Palace and the netherworld paths—utterly unworthy of concern.

Did the fox believe it? Half, maybe. After all, the world had iron roosters and smiling tigers. Who could say how much sincerity there was in Longming’s words?

But this fox was no longer the naive creature of the past. She had cultivated and trained—she wouldn’t be tricked so easily.

Zhuoxue said suspiciously, “The road might be safe, but what about before we leave, or after we arrive? If the King of the Underworld comes after us, who’s going to protect me?”

Longming pulled the measuring rod over, pressed down the white deer paper, and replied, “I’ll protect you.”

“Those who are capable should bear more,” Zhuoxue praised.

Longming was silent for a moment, then glanced over, her gaze neither cold nor warm. The black stripes beneath her eyes lifted her gaze, lending her a fierce aura. They said the tiger’s roar summoned wind, but she didn’t need to make a sound to stir the heavens.

Longming said, “But whether I can protect you from start to finish, that I can’t guarantee. First, you mustn’t delay things. Second, whatever I say, you follow.”

Zhuoxue clicked her tongue. She knew it—this big tiger was not someone to deal with easily.

Longming continued, “If I can protect you, I naturally will find a way.”

Zhuoxue understood perfectly. This was just another empty promise, a pancake drawn on paper—no matter how big, there wasn’t a single bite to eat. She decided not to count on Longming. When it came down to it, she’d have to rely on her own luck. Truly a fox walking into a tiger’s den, trembling all over.

“Cunning and sly,” Zhuoxue muttered under her breath. “If I die in the Yellow Spring, I wonder who’ll benefit.” The fox was used to being hard of hearing and assumed that mumbling like this wouldn’t be caught by others.

Longming let out a soft chuckle. “As if I’d let you die in the Yellow Spring.” Her voice carried a chilly indifference, thoroughly unreasonable, almost mocking—

Your life would be protected, yes, but your body… whether it remains intact is another matter.

Truly terrifying to hear. Zhuoxue was alarmed. “You and I have shared a bed, haven’t we? And now even your pillow-side fox doesn’t matter to you? How ruthless.”

One moment it was “shared a bed,” the next “pillow-side fox”—if anyone else overheard, who knew what kind of romantic and scandalous tale they’d make of it. The silver-haired great demon was speechless, wondering just what this fox’s head was filled with. And yet the fox’s eyes were clear and pure. After speaking, she puffed her cheeks, completely innocent-looking—her face cleaner than the white deer paper on the table.

Longming snorted. This fox had clearly learned a bit in the mortal world—but only half-heartedly, understanding neither the full picture nor the deeper meaning.

“What are you laughing at?” Zhuoxue asked, thoroughly puzzled as to what Longming found so funny.

Longming said, “You’re at the foot of the bed, not beside the pillow.”

That was indisputable. Zhuoxue changed tack. “Then it doesn’t matter whether you protect me or not. If there’s danger, just give me a heads-up and I’ll bolt.”

She was best at running. Even twenty mortals surrounding her from all sides hadn’t managed to catch her.

“Just don’t run the wrong way this time,” Longming said meaningfully.

“When my seal is lifted, I won’t make that ‘hard of hearing’ mistake again,” Zhuoxue grumbled. All thanks to Lingkong Mountain. Why did its name have to sound so close to Ninghong Mountain, anyway!

Longming lifted her eyes, her gaze sweeping across the few strands of silver that were faintly visible in the fox’s hair. “Your cultivation has improved. You’re able to resist the seal a little now—can you hear more clearly these days?”

“Of course,” Zhuoxue replied with a lifted tone, sounding slightly proud.

If she had been in her beast form, her fox tail would surely have been raised sky-high.

Longming chuckled softly. “And yet at first, you were so unwilling to practice those hundred incantations.”

Zhuoxue muttered, “If I hadn’t experienced it myself, I wouldn’t have known how useful they could be.”

“Shall we add another hundred?” Longming asked seriously.

Zhuoxue immediately wanted to dash out the window, afraid of more dense characters flooding into her mind again. Her eyes darted about, and she couldn’t help but glance outside. The sky stretched in a small patch above, and the distant green grass was like a carpet.

Her fox instincts twitched—she felt the urge to bolt again. But she wasn’t sure whether that envoy from the Nightmare Clan might suddenly return.

“What are you thinking about? The Nightmare Clan envoy has gone far away and won’t be coming back anytime soon.” Longming saw right through the fox’s thoughts.

Zhuoxue pulled her head back inside and said righteously, “I’ve been practicing spellwork since I woke up, and haven’t even had a bite of meat. Now I’m starving—how could I possibly have the energy to learn another hundred spells?”

“I had Qiurou save some for you. It’s on the stove,” Longming said, unusually considerate.

Zhuoxue’s heart had already leapt out the door. Just as her body was about to follow, she got stuck in the window frame. Only then did she remember—she wasn’t in her beast form.

Since Longming wouldn’t let her shift back, she simply decided not to bother.

She couldn’t stay in this room any longer. Another minute and she’d be dizzy from more spell diagrams. So she turned on her heel and bolted out the door without pausing. She wasn’t just craving meat—she wanted to escape.

On the main peak, many demons had gathered. The feast was full of rare delicacies, soups overflowing from the dishes, and the demons were feasting merrily. No one noticed the fleeting glimpse of a fox darting by.

Zhuoxue ignored it all, heading straight for the kitchen. She lifted the wooden lid and saw a pot of braised chicken, aromatic and tender. The meat was golden, sprinkled with a few chopped scallions—it was clearly left there on purpose, not leftovers scraped from a pot.

Zhuoxue ate with relish, not even noticing when another demon had entered the kitchen and now stood nearby, dumbfounded.

She vaguely made out a humanoid figure and almost choked when she turned and realized—it was the demon maid who had helped her sneak into the main peak that day.

The name had been carved on the wooden tag from that day. What was it again?

“Qinghuai,” the fox called out.

Qinghuai hadn’t seen this fox demon in a while. That day, she had watched with her own eyes as Zhuoxue was dragged out by the steward and thought she’d gotten herself into serious trouble.

Fortunately, the steward hadn’t pursued the matter. The demon lord even rewarded her unexpectedly with spirit jade. She was flattered and confused, unable to figure out how this fox had become the mountain lord’s personal attendant, or how she herself had benefited from it.

“What are you doing here?” Times were different now, and Qinghuai was much more cautious.

Zhuoxue took a clean bowl, even fished out a long-handled ladle, and scooped a full serving. “You see it, you get a share. Have a taste. If it weren’t for you that day, I wouldn’t have made it into the main peak.”

Qinghuai didn’t dare take it and waved her hands repeatedly, mumbling, “There’s actually something I… really don’t understand.”

Zhuoxue knew that forced gifts weren’t sweet, and forced food didn’t taste good either. She retracted the bowl and took a sip of the broth herself, speaking through the steam, “What is it?”

Uncertain whether she should ask, Qinghuai hesitated for a moment before finally saying, “Since you’re the demon lord’s personal attendant, how could Steward Qiurou not know?”

Zhuoxue blinked. “The demon lord appointed me personally. Naturally, the steward didn’t know.”

There had been a lot of gossip on the mountain these past couple of days. The little demons whispered about it with relish, but not a single word reached Longming’s ears.

Qinghuai’s expression shifted repeatedly. She stepped back, face flushed red, not daring to come within a half-step of the fox.

Zhuoxue, with soup still on her lips, looked very puzzled. “What, you don’t like meat?” She only then realized—what was a stone demon doing eating meat? This was like trying to skim milk off boiling water.

Qinghuai gave a sheepish smile and stared down at her toes, her back pressed to the door. “Don’t let my aura get on you. And don’t get too close to other demons either, or the demon lord will surely be angry.”

As soon as she finished speaking, she turned to leave.

Zhuoxue hurriedly called out, “What did Longming reward you with?”

The stone demon paused in her steps, reluctantly pulling out a spirit jade from her sleeve. With a pained look, she said, “Are you perhaps jealous? This spirit jade was a reward from the High King. If Mistress Fox wants it, I’ll give it to you.”

So it was just a spirit jade. Zhuoxue lowered her gaze and shook her head. “Jealous? Of what—this fragrant chicken? I won’t lie, it really does taste even better braised.” 

Her appetite stirred again, and she ate until she was fully satisfied. After eating, she didn’t feel like returning to Longming’s bedchamber. Instead, she wandered off to wherever the crowd was liveliest.

***

Another group of demons had arrived at the feast. The familiar faces from just the other day were now nowhere to be seen. The fox simply gathered up the newly arrived demons and cheerfully taught them how to play leaf cards all over again.

The demons were cooperative, and Zhuoxue played to her heart’s content. Caught off guard, she drank too much of the aged tribute wine and ended up slumped over the card table, completely drunk. She clutched a handful of leaf cards in her hand, but couldn’t even make out the patterns on them.

The little demons were also tipsy. With a loud clatter, their leaf cards scattered across the table, and their bodies slumped to the floor. The moment the backs of their heads touched the ground, they transformed back into their beast forms.

Zhuoxue wanted to transform too, but in her drunken haze, she vaguely remembered—Longming wouldn’t let her return to her fox form. So she had no choice but to awkwardly curl up her long arms and legs, staring at the leaf cards in her hand and mumbling, “What number is this? I can’t make sense of it.”

No one answered. The seats were filled with murmuring snores.

Zhuoxue curled up, wanting to sleep too. She was used to resting her head on her tail, but now, no matter how she shifted, she couldn’t get comfortable. Lifting her skirt and rummaging around, she muttered in confusion, “Where’s my tail?” The layered fabrics were as thick as the white camellias of Qiufeng Ridge. She could feel her legs, but the tail was nowhere to be found.

The moonlight was bright and clear. Zhuoxue was starting to panic. She didn’t know how long she had been away from Longming. Longming had told her not to leave her side, yet here she was, brazenly wandering around outside for half a day.

But now she was in such a frantic state, she couldn’t even bring herself to go back. She stumbled between tables at the feast, dizzy and lost. She checked on top of tables and underneath them, even pushing aside sleeping demons to search.

When Longming arrived, the scene was chaotic—demons were lying scattered across the ground, and only the fox was still staggering about like a wandering ghost.

“What are you looking for?” Longming couldn’t make sense of it.

Zhuoxue heard the voice, but couldn’t tell who was speaking. She spun in circles where she stood, nearly in tears. “I’m looking for my tail! It’s gone!”

Longming immediately knew—this fox was drunk.

The aged tribute wine buried beneath Lingkong Mountain was said to knock one down after ten steps. Most demons couldn’t handle more than a few sips. But this fox? She had downed cup after cup without even noticing the alcohol hitting her.

“Your tail is with me,” Longming said casually, a hint of mischief suddenly rising in her.

Bathed in moonlight, the silver-haired demon was clad in a black cloak, her robe beneath patterned with flowing landscapes. Her figure stood tall and graceful, like jade branches in bloom—like someone out of a painting.

Zhuoxue turned at the sound and stared fixedly at her for a long time, but the great demon’s hands were empty. There was no sign of where her tail might be hidden. Drunkenly, she stumbled forward, pinching the fluttering edge of Longming’s robe and looking up. “You’re the one who hid my tail? Why would you do that? Do you like it or something?”

“Do you even recognize me, little fox?” Longming lowered her gaze.

Zhuoxue leaned in, sniffing lightly in an attempt to identify her.

The aroma of the aged tribute wine wafted right into Longming’s face. She stood still, letting the fox inspect her.

Zhuoxue didn’t respond. Her hand slipped into Longming’s sleeve, her fingers trailing up along the smooth, jade-like arm. “I don’t care who you are—if you’ve hidden my tail, then hand it over now!”

Longming was slightly caught off guard but quickly grabbed the wandering hand.

Zhuoxue switched tactics, groping around Longming’s waist, even reaching behind her in a panic. “Where’s my tail?”

Just as her fox paws were about to touch the tiger’s butt, Longming caught her hand in a firm grip. No matter how Zhuoxue struggled, she couldn’t break free.

“I get it—you’re wearing my tail, aren’t you? That’s why you won’t let me touch it!” Zhuoxue insisted on reaching for it, but Longming clamped down on her wrist so tightly she couldn’t move.

“You really can’t tell who I am?” Longming asked leisurely.

With no other choice, Zhuoxue stood on tiptoe and leaned in close. Her warm breath brushed against Longming’s face—their lips only a hair’s breadth from touching.

“Who are you? Are you new here? I’ve never seen you before,” Zhuoxue asked in confusion.

“Where is this place?” Longming asked again.

Zhuoxue stepped back a little, looking at her like she was a fool. “It’s Qiufeng Ridge, of course. You don’t even know Qiufeng Ridge?”

Longming didn’t want to waste any more words with the drunken fox. She turned, still holding the slender wrist, and said, “It’s late. Time to go back and rest.”

“I’m not going back! I haven’t found my tail yet!” Zhuoxue yanked her wrist a few times, but couldn’t break free from Longming’s grip.

The place was full of demons. If this went on any longer, someone was bound to be woken up by the noise.

“I’ll take you to find your tail,” the silver-haired demon said, trying to pull the fox back to the sleeping quarters. After tugging twice, her hand suddenly felt heavier.

Zhuoxue had squatted down. Her eyes were red as she looked behind herself, choking up. “It was such a big, fluffy tail. I swear it was here just a moment ago.”

Longming, out of patience, simply lifted the fox up sideways. One arm slipped under those struggling legs, pulling Zhuoxue to rest against her front.

Zhuoxue stopped moving. Her side was patted lightly—firm enough to be felt, but not hard. She pressed her lips together, swallowing a faint, shaky breath down her throat.

The fox lowered her head. Her eyes were like crabapple blossoms after rain, dusted lightly with rouge.

Back at the sleeping quarters, Longming didn’t bother laying out a floor mat. She simply placed Zhuoxue on the bed, then turned and flicked her fingers to cast a spell, sweeping away every trace of alcohol in the air.

Just as the wine vapor dispersed, a muffled voice came from behind her. “So you weren’t lying to me after all.”

Zhuoxue hadn’t fully shifted back into her beast form. She lay on her back with knees drawn up, and that soft, snowy fox tail curled forward from between her legs, nestled snugly in her arms.

“I found my tail!”