Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 44

She even remembered the gourd ladle. But thinking about it, it made sense—Longming remembered events from a hundred years ago so clearly. Remembering a ladle from two days ago was hardly a challenge.

Zhuoxue said nothing. She only dared to mess around now because they were inside a nightmare, boldly toying with the tiger while holding that ladle.

Even sneaking a slap at the tiger’s butt.

“Twice,” Longming said.

She even remembered how many times. Zhuoxue shook her wrists and, thick-skinned, said, “I hit you twice, and you tied me up. Doesn’t that make us even?”

Longming led her toward the crowd and said blandly, “Not even. We still have to go into the mountains.”

Beside them, some people sobbed uncontrollably, while others cursed aloud, venting their anger on the entire village. Zhuoxue couldn’t see anything, but she heard someone splashing quickly through puddles, stopping right beside her.

Someone said, “My lady, we found Suli.”

Even though she knew everyone in the nightmare besides Longming was fabricated, Zhuoxue still couldn’t help but curse inwardly, Idiot!

Su Li must’ve gotten impatient and come looking for her. What was that if not asking for death?

Longming asked, “Where did you see her?”

“At the west entrance of the village. I was guarding the gate when I saw a shadow skulking in the distance. I ran up and caught her, only to realize it was her,” the speaker panted. “But she got away. I couldn’t hold her.”

“If she escaped, what are you reporting for?” Longming shot him a cold look.

“Th-then, my lady, should we still go after her?”

Before Longming could answer, Zhuoxue cut in, “Go after her for what? If we miss the appointed time, how will you make up for it? Why don’t you take her place?”

“You!” The man glared. “You really aren’t afraid, are you?”

Zhuoxue raised her bound wrists, lifting the red silk along with them, and said languidly, “Your poison is my honey. I drink it like nectar.”

Longming gave her a glance, blew a bone whistle to signal the group, and said, “Let her be. Don’t mind her. The auspicious hour has arrived. It’s time to enter the mountain.”

Zhuoxue let out a quiet breath.

Gongs clanged the entire way, and suonas blared non-stop. It sounded festive, but only half the people wore happy expressions. The rest were the offerings. How could they possibly smile?

The chickens, ducks, and livestock destined for slaughter got to ride in carts up the mountain, while the living had to trudge through mud and rain on foot. Perhaps to prevent the offerings from crying or causing a disturbance—so as not to offend the fox spirit—just before entering the mountain, they stuffed their mouths to block any sound.

As Zhuoxue walked, the person ahead suddenly stopped and turned. “Open your mouth.”

She didn’t understand why. Wasn’t the ceremonial “last meal” already eaten in the village? Were they serving supper now? She opened her mouth, only to find it wasn’t food being put in, but a cloth bundle. It had been rolled up and stuffed with cooked rice, giving off a faint scent of grains.

Zhuoxue tried to move her tongue but couldn’t push the cloth out, so she gave up. The red silk tied around her wrists was tugged tighter, and as the person in front took a step, she was dragged along.

Birdsong occasionally echoed through the mountains. The rain couldn’t drown out the babbling stream. As they crossed a narrow log bridge, a chill struck her face.

The log creaked beneath them. Zhuoxue, afraid of falling into the stream, reached forward along the red silk and nearly caught Longming’s hand.

Longming let the loop of red silk slip from her wrist and said casually, “The log is wide enough. Just walk straight and you won’t fall in.”

Zhuoxue couldn’t speak. The rumble of the carts had vanished, probably because they’d taken a detour.

The villagers tiptoed behind them. One whispered, “My lady, won’t monsters pop out of these deep woods?”

“I don’t know,” Longming replied.

After hearing that, the man’s gong strikes grew softer. The suona player trembled as he blew, leaking air and ruining the tune.

Zhuoxue hadn’t been afraid at first, but after walking blindfolded for so long, she began to feel uneasy. Were they really going to walk straight into the mountain without being devoured by the Nightmare demon?

Another villager quivered as he spoke. “My lady, are we taking the offerings into the fox den again? My legs are giving out. I don’t think I can go on.”

“I can’t walk anymore either,” another added softly.

Longming said coldly, “If none of you go in, then who’ll hold the ropes? Who’ll drive the carts?”

No one replied.

“Don’t care whether Qiufeng Village lives or dies anymore?” Longming’s tone was colder than the rain falling from above. “Such cowardice—what use is Qiufeng Village for people like you? Might as well replace the named offerings with you.”

The crowd sniffled and sobbed. Someone pleaded, “My lady, I’m the only one left in my family. You can’t do this…”

After a long silence, Longming finally said, in an even tone, “The offerings can be left outside the fox den. Just leave them and go. I’ll go in alone to present them to the fox spirit.”

The villagers looked at each other in surprise, overjoyed, and quickly chimed in, “Thank you, my lady! Please, take care of yourself!”

Longming cast a glance toward the carriage, where the swaddled bundle was currently placed, and said unhurriedly, “I regularly divine and consult the fox spirit. I doubt the fox spirit would make things difficult for me. There’s no need for everyone to worry.”

In truth, among the whole village, only the village chief’s daughter had any dealings with the fox spirit. The villagers weren’t concerned about her—they were only worried about their own lives.

The path into the mountains was long, and looking ahead, there wasn’t even a trail in sight. The grass that had been cut just last year had already grown waist-high again.

Someone walked ahead, clearing the way with a sickle. Only after confirming the road was passable did they shout, “The carriage can go!”

The mountain path was uneven, and when the wheels rolled forward, everything inside the carriage clattered noisily. Any living creature inside would likely be shaken to death.

Longming stopped and said, “Give me the swaddling. I’ll carry it in my arms.”

The villager driving the cart quickly retrieved the swaddled bundle, not noticing anything unusual about what was wrapped in the thin blanket.

Longming took it into her arms with one hand, then continued leading Zhuoxue forward, her voice calm and unruffled. “We’re almost there. No need to rush.”

In the distance, they could make out a cave sealed with vines. Several snakes were coiled at the entrance—their green, glistening bodies almost indistinguishable from the vines themselves.

A villager clearing the path caught sight of a green snake flicking its tongue and exclaimed, “My lady, there are snakes! A lot of them! The fox den is just ahead—should we still go forward?”

“You really get more cowardly with each passing year. Now you don’t even dare approach the fox den?” Longming sneered coldly.

Everyone was too busy being scared to notice how different the village chief’s daughter seemed from usual.

“Put the things down, tie the offerings to the trees, and then you may leave,” Longming ordered again.

As soon as she finished speaking, the villagers quickly tied the red sashes to nearby trees, then turned and fled, not even bothering to take the lanterns with them.

They ran fast, but the people tied up as offerings could only shuffle in place, crying and struggling, though their cries were muffled.

The cart driver leapt down, the basket carriers threw their baskets aside, and the rest of the villagers bolted. One took a wrong turn and fell into a ditch with a loud splash.

Hearing that splash, Zhuoxue instinctively leaned back slightly, as if feeling the pain herself.

The villagers had all turned into panicked rabbits—the scattered sound of fleeing footsteps gradually faded into the distance. Aside from those bound as offerings, it seemed Zhuoxue now had only Longming for company. Her heart was pounding, but with her mouth tightly stuffed, she couldn’t utter a word even if she wanted to.

The air grew colder as they neared the fox den. She could even hear the snakes hissing nearby.

Longming pushed the vines aside, only to have a venomous snake lunge at her. She raised her arm and swatted it away without a word, then stepped into the cave.

Inside the cave, it was even colder and damper. An eerie wind, source unknown, swept past her ears, sounding like wailing ghosts.

Zhuoxue’s vision was blood-red. She shook her head hard twice, but the blindfold of red silk wouldn’t budge.

“Mm-mm-mm.” Let me go.

Longming kept walking forward.

“Mm-mm-mm-mm.” I can’t see!

She still had no idea what this fox spirit actually was—most likely a Nightmare demon in disguise, lying in wait for them to walk into its trap.

Should she run or not?

Zhuoxue was still hesitating when suddenly, she heard Longming speak.

Longming said, “This year’s offerings have been delivered. I ask that the fox spirit accept them kindly.”

A chill wind crept closer. It felt formless—when it brushed against Zhuoxue’s face, there was almost no sensation. She found it strange. Why didn’t this fox spirit smell like a fox? It didn’t seem to shed, and even as it approached, it didn’t make a sound.

Thankfully, Longming hadn’t tied the red sash too tightly. Zhuoxue turned around and yanked it off, then staggered forward toward a faint source of light—only to slam straight into the vines. The vines were like a spiderweb, tightly woven across the cave entrance, far more solid than when they had entered.

A wave of suffocating cold swept up from behind, and fear struck her like lightning. Her hair stood on end. She was instantly rooted in place, unable to move.

This is pressure!

Then came a flash of cold light. The vines split apart with a sharp sound, bursting into fragments.

Zhuoxue heard the noise, and realizing she was unharmed, knew that Longming had helped her. Without a second thought, she dashed out of the cave, finally tearing off the red sash around her wrist and pulling off the blindfold as well.

The abandoned lanterns still lay on the ground. The people offered as sacrifices were sobbing uncontrollably, gasping for breath.

Inside the cave, the roar of battle raged on. Flashes of cold light and black shadows darted back and forth like shuttle needles—clear signs of spells!

Zhuoxue quickly spat out the cloth in her mouth. Only then did it hit her: how had Longming managed to slice through those vines? Weren’t they supposed to be unable to use demonic power in the nightmare realm? So how was Longming fighting that “fox spirit” inside?

Just as she was about to call out to Longming, stones began to fall from the mouth of the cave, and the entire mountain began to tremble. Then, a flash of silver light shot out from within, carrying something with it.

The object landed at her feet. It was the brocade pouch wrapped in the swaddling.

Zhuoxue bent down to pick it up, terrified the Nightmare demon might come snatch it back. She immediately ran to a distance and hid completely behind a tree.

Unexpectedly, the Nightmare demon didn’t pursue her.

Inside the cave, purple lightning surged toward the entrance—only to extinguish in an instant. A black wind swept through, clouds surging like tides. No matter how immense the demonic force hidden within, it could not break even an inch of the cave.

Zhuoxue watched with her heart pounding, and in that moment, her thoughts became clear—could it be that this mountain cave marked the boundary of the nightmare realm, and demonic powers could only be used within it?

It must be so. Otherwise, how could Longming have stood against the Nightmare demon? It seemed that even the nightmare-weaver himself was bound by the constraints of the realm. So the demon did not refrain from chasing them because he couldn’t—but because he dared not.

Zhuoxue steadied her thoughts and couldn’t help but feel fortunate. The timing of that wave of heat had been perfect. If she and Longming had both been trapped in the illusion, the embroidered pouch would surely have fallen into the demon’s hands.

And her own life would have been forfeit.

But how were she and Longming to break the spell? Did they have to capture the demon in order to escape?

Zhuoxue didn’t dare move recklessly. With the pouch in her possession, the farther she was from the cave, the better.

Inside the cave, thunder roared and lightning flashed. Suddenly, the cry of a tiger rang out, shaking the mountains and splitting the earth. Massive trees and dense underbrush all tumbled into the crevices of the collapsing cliffs.

The spiritual power that sustained the dream shattered on the spot. It scattered like a flock of birds, whirling through the air.

In less than a moment, the swirling energy shrieked and rushed back into the cave, returning to where it came from.

Zhuoxue froze, then called out, “Longming! Longming!”

But Longming did not appear.

Uneasy, Zhuoxue walked toward the cave. Suddenly, she heard a sound like shattering glass. Her vision spun, and in an instant, she felt light as a feather—like she was falling from the heavens into the mortal world.

When she came to her senses, she was no longer in a remote forested mountain. She had returned to the inn in Yunjing. Only the darkness of night had remained unchanged.

She was just about to put down the shadow puppet in her hand when she noticed the embroidered pouch was still with her. Startled, she turned and looked toward Longming, asking, “Were you also inside the nightmare realm?”

Longming’s gaze was cold. She seemed to be clutching something in her hand, but with her fingers closed tightly, Zhuoxue couldn’t see what it was.

“When entering a meditative state, if your thoughts stray, it’s very easy for the Nightmare demon to take advantage,” Longming said.

“Why did you lose focus?” Zhuoxue asked in surprise.

Longming stared at her without a word.

Zhuoxue understood—it was she who had disrupted Longming’s thoughts.

Longming’s eyes were deep and quiet. “What about you? Why weren’t you caught in the dream?”

The heat still lingered in Zhuoxue’s body. She went quiet for a while, then mumbled, “Maybe he saw me as insignificant and focused only on ensnaring you.”

Longming gave a soft snort, then stood and looked around. After a long pause, the cold edge in her eyes faded, and she said, “I underestimated the Nightmare King. He actually dared to use demonic power in Yunjing. It’s been nearly a hundred years since he last showed himself, and his skills have clearly improved—making him even harder to counter.”

Zhuoxue hurried to return the shadow puppet to its box, still a little shaken. “Where did the Nightmare King go? Why didn’t you capture him just now?”

Longming sneered. “He’s at Wugou River. He didn’t come to Yunjing in person. But those skilled in dream magic can cast it from even thousands of miles away.”

“No wonder he resorted to trickery instead of just taking things by force,” said Zhuoxue.

“With the way he’s stirred things up, it’s time for us to leave,” Longming said as she stood.

“The gate to Huangliang Dream Market is open?” Zhuoxue asked, hopeful.

“The time has passed. We’ll have to wait until tomorrow,” Longming replied, lowering her gaze to her hand, clenching her fingers tight. “The Nightmare King used demonic power—it’s bound to draw the attention of gods and immortals. If we don’t leave now, we’ll be punished in his place.”

Zhuoxue had already packed. She pushed open the window and asked, “Which way?”

Naturally, they left through the inn’s main door.

The innkeeper had been roused in the middle of the night and had meant to complain, but the generous clink of a silver ingot hitting the counter sobered him up instantly.

“Safe travels, dear guests, safe travels,” the innkeeper said with a bow and a smile.

Once out of Yunjing, Longming transformed into a white tiger carrying a fox on her back, dashing three miles in one bound.

There were no signs of human life nearby, and certainly no grand, elegant inns—so the two demons had no choice but to camp in the wild.

Zhuoxue dismounted from the tiger’s back, her palms slick with sweat. When Longming returned to human form, she quickly handed over the embroidered pouch. “You take it. It doesn’t feel safe in my possession.”

Longming took the pouch, then reached for Zhuoxue’s wrist, turning her palm upward.

Zhuoxue asked in confusion, “What are you giving me?”

“I intercepted the Nightmare King’s spiritual power before he could fully withdraw it,” Longming said, calm and direct.

The Nightmare King was the current ruler of Wugou River, and his spiritual power was so overwhelming that no ordinary demon could withstand it. Like paper trying to hold water—it wouldn’t even take a full load before the paper tore apart.

Zhuoxue suddenly clenched her fingers. She was still affected by that wave of emotion earlier. Even if she could absorb this immense energy, she might not be able to focus enough to break through to the next realm.

“Perhaps this one surge is all you need to break your restriction,” Longming said, eyes fixed on her.