Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 3

There was no light in the crevice at the foot of the mountain, and especially since this cave lay deep underground, it felt even more like a bottomless abyss. Fortunately, Zhuoxue was already used to this—familiar with it after going through it once before. Sitting cross-legged, she soon began to doze off. What wall-facing reflection? She hadn’t done anything wrong, so there was nothing to reflect on.

In the distance came the sound of a pebble hitting the ground, clattering as it stopped by the fox’s feet.

Zhuoxue had nearly fallen asleep. She opened her eyes and kicked the pebble back. “Go away, go away—whoever you are, stop bothering me.”

The pebble rolled a few times before coming to a halt, as if someone had pressed it down.

From the darkness, a trembling voice suddenly rang out, “Little fox, are you there?”

Two furry ears abruptly stood up on Zhuoxue’s black hair. The irritation in her eyes disappeared as she lowered her voice and said, “Of course I’m here. Are you kicking stones for ghosts?”

A bundle wrapped in a lotus leaf rolled over from that direction. It smelled delicious and was still warm. She quickly picked it up and skillfully unfolded the lotus leaf. Inside was chicken cooked with glutinous rice—the meat was tender, and even the rice had soaked up the flavor.

“I heard you were confined again by the Mountain Lord, so I went into town to buy this for you. Eat carefully—don’t burn yourself,” said Lishu cautiously from the shadows.

Zhuoxue pulled apart the glutinous rice and started eating the chicken first, mumbling, “Little Bird-jie, you’re the only one who’s good to me. Aunt Lan hit me again with the ruler, right on the chest—it hurts so much!”

(T/N: -jie from -jiejie. Honorifics used for older female friends or sister figures.)

Lishu didn’t dare show herself, nor light a lamp, afraid of being punished by Lanhui, so she shushed Zhuoxue quickly and whispered, “Keep your voice down—don’t let the Mountain Lord hear.”

Zhuoxue kept eating and humming, completely forgetting how dejected she had been earlier.

Lishu sighed. “The Mountain Lord only punishes you because she cares. You’re the youngest among all the mountain demons. You don’t understand how dangerous the outside world is. If you run into a mortal without magic, maybe you’d be fine—but if you meet one with ill intent, they might skin your fox pelt right off. Worse yet, they could even dig out your demon core!”

Zhuoxue spat out a piece of lotus leaf she had accidentally chewed, pouting. “It’s not like I don’t know how to protect myself. Besides, why can all the other mountain demons come and go as they please, but I can’t?”

Lishu had no answer to that. Everyone knew how much Lanhui favored the fox—no demon on the mountain was jealous, because the strictness buried within that affection wasn’t something that could be summed up in a few words.

“Maybe… because you were raised by the Mountain Lord herself,” Lishu said hesitantly, with a hint of helplessness in her tone.

Yes, eighteen years ago, Lanhui found a bundle at the foot of Qiufeng Ridge. That bundle was in a wooden basin, floating downriver. At first, they thought it was a human baby. But inside was a fox.

This fox was born a demon. It hadn’t even opened its eyes yet—just a fluffy ball, like a puppy.

The mountain demons were overjoyed and fought over the right to name the little fox. Names like “Maomao” and “Baibai” were tossed around, but none suited Lanhui’s taste.

“No one else would bear to hit something they raised by hand—only she would,” Zhuoxue said, spitting out another corner of lotus leaf.

Lishu fell silent. She didn’t dare say a single bad word about the Mountain Lord. If she slipped up and Lanhui heard it, she might not even know which mountain she’d be sent to next.

Qiufeng Ridge really was the best. It kept to itself, away from the world. The little demons on the mountain didn’t have to work and had little ambition—their days passed in idle contentment.

Having finished the sticky rice chicken, Zhuoxue still had that blurry white tiger from her memory in her mind. She quietly crept forward a step and whispered, “Little Bird-jie, do you know anything about past and present lives? They say all beings live three lifetimes—it can’t be fake, right?”

“How would I know?” Lishu hesitated. “But there are rumors. Some people can speak as soon as they’re born and talk about events hundreds of miles away. They can name where they used to live, who was in their family—almost like they never drank that bowl of forgetfulness soup. So when they’re reborn, they remember parts of their past life.”

“What about demons? Do demons have three lives?” Zhuoxue was truly curious.

Lishu told her everything she knew. “Demons are also part of the cycle of reincarnation, but their three lives aren’t always the same. One life might be an immortal or a demon, another a flower or a blade of grass, another a mortal or an animal.”

“Ugh, an animal?” Zhuoxue thought for a moment. She was already half an animal now—surely she hadn’t been one in her previous life too? Could it be… she was that white tiger in her past life?

No way. One spray of urine from a tiger demon would probably scare her half to death.

Zhuoxue’s eyes went wide in disbelief.

“Why are you suddenly asking about this?” Lishu asked.

Zhuoxue didn’t answer. Covering her lips, she whispered, “Little Bird-jie, do you know how to find a past life?”

“What for? You think you can go back to it?” Lishu said, puzzled.

“I dreamed of a city. I’m just a little curious,” Zhuoxue said evasively, afraid Lishu would think she was losing her mind.

Lishu was dumbfounded. “Something you dreamed about at night—how could it possibly be real?”

“It was a daydream,” Zhuoxue added.

“Even less believable then—probably just your imagination.” Lishu shook her head.

“But the city in the dream felt so, so real, like I’ve actually been there,” Zhuoxue said anxiously.

“Have you ever dreamed of it before?” Lishu asked patiently.

Zhuoxue replied, “Never.”

Lishu smiled. “If you really hadn’t finished that bowl of forgetfulness soup, you’d have started dreaming of it long ago—not just now.”

Zhuoxue wasn’t ready to let the topic go, so she changed the question. “Let’s say I made it up. Then how does reincarnation work anyway?”

“I’ve heard that after death, the soul drifts into the Meandering Grounds. After passing through it, the soul arrives at the Nine Springs Palace, where it enters the cycle of rebirth,” Lishu said, then stopped herself. Her footsteps shuffled as she quietly backed away. “I need to go now—if the Mountain Lord catches me, I won’t even be able to bring you glutinous rice chicken anymore.”

“Bring two next time. That thing’s not even enough for two bites—barely fills the gap between my teeth.” Zhuoxue licked the corner of her mouth, savoring the taste.

“Small in size, but a big appetite. Once you leave Qiufeng Ridge, who knows who could possibly afford to feed you,” came a sigh from afar. “No wonder the Mountain Lord doesn’t let you run around.”

***

But the next day, though Lishu did bring the glutinous rice chicken, not a single fox hair could be found in the cave.

The fox had snuck down the mountain again. Zhuoxue figured that while she was supposed to reflect during her confinement, Lanhui wouldn’t actively come looking for her. So if she slipped away quietly and Lishu kept her secret, she wouldn’t be punished.

As luck would have it, a family in town was holding a funeral. The mourning music echoed through the entire place.

It was a small town, and the people coming and going were the same few faces. Everyone dressed in white shirts and black robes to pay their respects, and cries of mourning came in waves.

The deceased belonged to one of the town’s wealthy families—kindhearted, it seemed, since even beggars came to pay their respects, and no one inside turned them away.

The fox that came down the mountain transformed into a figure in white. With eyes lowered, she followed the crowd inside, hoping to find the soul of the deceased.

The coffin was laid out in the courtyard, surrounded by kneeling mourners. Ash from burned offerings floated in the air—but the soul was nowhere to be seen.

Zhuoxue lingered at a distance, scanning the area. Thinking the spirit might be somewhere else in the house, she wandered off on her own. Thankfully, demons have shape-shifting abilities. She turned into a wisp of smoke and drifted slowly through the long corridor. As she passed the garden, she caught a whiff of a cold ghostly aura.

Found it!

She followed the aura to a doorway, slipping through a crack in the door, and easily spotted the old ghost standing before a shrine.

The old lady was mumbling under her breath. It wasn’t clear what she was saying, but strangely, the shrine wasn’t dedicated to any usual deity—it displayed a portrait of a beautiful woman.

In her decade or so of life, Zhuoxue had either idled away her time on Qiufeng Ridge or played around in town—she had never seen anyone like this.

The portrait was drawn with exquisite detail. It wasn’t clear whether it fully captured the woman’s true grace. The beauty had silver hair draped over her shoulders, with a few streaks of black still visible—as if the silver had come from sorrow. Yet there was no trace of sorrow on her face. She wore a black cloak lined with white fur, and beneath it a flowing silk gown painted with mountain patterns in ink—elegant, yet unapproachable. It was because…

Her gaze was sharp and composed, and beneath each eye was a crescent-shaped black marking that extended from just under the eye to the outer edge of her brow bone, as if cradling her eyes. Those eyes were as cold as a lantern on a snowy night, filled with icy frost, piercing through everything.

Who is that?

So stunning, yet so imposing.

Zhuoxue saw the old lady still muttering to herself and let out a quiet cough. The ghostly soul flickered, nearly scattering in fright.

The old lady turned around in a panic and asked tentatively, “You… you can see me?”

Zhuoxue, hands behind her back. “I just died too. Wanted to ask you for directions.”