Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 47

What a pity—the ladle was still trapped in the nightmare realm and couldn’t be taken out at all.

Zhuoxue leaned half-reclined, her tail idly flicking against the cushion. She truly couldn’t figure it out—after spending the entire night breaking through a bottleneck, where exactly had she broken through to? She’d struggled for half the night and still couldn’t beat a mortal. Fortunately, the seal was suppressed by the demon core, and Tianji could no longer sense her whereabouts. As long as humans didn’t provoke the fox and the fox didn’t provoke humans, there would be no bloodshed or chaos.

And if chaos did break out—so be it. In that case, she’d trouble Longming to handle it patiently.

The carriage creaked as it moved. The winding mountain path resembled an earthen dragon sprawling along the ground, with no end in sight. Now that her spiritual power was unusable, no matter how calm or focused she tried to be, Zhuoxue couldn’t catch the scent of Smoke and Rain Dream. All she could do was fight off drowsiness and rely on Longming to guide the way.

The carriage passed through a mountain pass, and in the distance, a city came into view. The city was built of stone, with towering buildings that looked like rugged cliffs—solid and unbreakable.

“Huangliang Dream Market is being held here tonight,” came a voice from outside the curtain.

Zhuoxue woke and lifted the curtain to look out. The bright sun blazed above, and the mountain city stood tall on high ground, seemingly connecting with the scorching sun.

At first glance, it appeared to be a forest of stone peaks. Upon closer inspection, it became clear that buildings had been raised straight from the ground, more magnificent than towering peaks.

“Something’s odd.” Longming frowned.

“What’s odd?” Zhuoxue studied the scene for a while. The sky held no strange omens, the land was peaceful, and the only strange thing was the sheer mountainous height of the buildings.

Longming took a deep breath, then slowly exhaled the foul stench, murmuring, “Smoke and Rain Dream is far too thick—feels like we’ve been stuffed into a box of incense.”

Thinking of that muddy, rank fruit-like scent, Zhuoxue gloated, “More capable ones must bear more responsibility. You keep sniffing so we can find the right place. Don’t take me off track.”

After all, she, the fox, couldn’t smell anything.

“I never led you into a ditch even when we were in the nightmare,” Longming replied.

Zhuoxue reached for her fox ears, plucked a small tuft of fur, and blew it at Longming.

This time, her ears wouldn’t retract. No matter how uncomfortable Longming was, she had no choice but to endure it.

Longming turned her head just in time to see that tuft of fox fur float no more than a foot forward before the wind blew it back onto Zhuoxue’s own face like a leaf returning to its root. Her nose twitched, and she sneezed.

The carriage rocked as it headed toward the mountain city. It happened to be market day, and the city gate bustled with people, rivaling the liveliness of Yunjing.

The tall stone towers in the city seemed built by mysterious means. Some were stacked layer by layer from stone; others appeared to be hollowed-out stone pillars left by erosion, carved with doorways to house people.

The horse had yet to step inside when a gatekeeper stopped them, cupping his hands politely. “The city roads are rugged and unsuitable for carriages. Please leave your vehicle outside the gate.”

Longming slightly lifted her bamboo hat and glanced into the city. “May we ride in on horseback?” she asked calmly.

The gatekeeper smiled. “Today is market day. With so many people coming and going, riding horses would be inconvenient. But leading them by the reins is fine.”

Looking into the city, they could indeed see narrow, uneven paths—either steep slopes or stone stairs—not fit for carriages.

“Thank you for the notice.” Longming tightened the reins and gently turned the white horse around, leading it away from the gate.

Outside the gate, many carts and horses were already parked. Some still held goods, guarded by merchants nearby.

Zhuoxue lifted the curtain without hesitation and looked around confidently. Her fox ears twitched at the sounds, and she asked curiously, “How were these houses even built? So tall, yet the walls are so thin. Could they have been constructed by mortal world cultivators using spells?”

“Mountain folk have their own kind of wisdom. There are no traces of spellwork here, no guardian deities either. Incense offerings are scarce—it seems they do not worship gods or immortals, only trust in their own hands.” Longming found an empty spot, tied the reins, and turned back. “Let’s go in and have a look.”

After rocking in the carriage for half the day, Zhuoxue could no longer sit still. She leapt down the moment she heard her—only to find her legs weak and nearly crumpled to the ground.

Longming caught her and, without scolding, simply said, “Careful.”

The more Zhuoxue thought about it, the more absurd it seemed. With a sudden boldness, she plucked a handful of fox fur from her ears and blew it all into Longming’s face. Fox fur danced like snow.

Longming glanced at her, withdrew her hand, and said, “You no longer have demonic power to protect you. Your self-healing isn’t what it used to be. Better not pull too much fur.” In other words—don’t pluck yourself bald.

Zhuoxue was quite surprised. She wasn’t even mad, and spoke so gently. When did the white-haired tiger turn into a bald, soft kitten?

Forget it. Better stop plucking. At this rate, she’d be the first to become a bald fox.

The mountains surrounding the city were steep and winding, the road winding like a sheep’s gut. Not even a boundary marker could be seen along the way.

“What’s this place called?” Zhuoxue asked after scanning around.

Longming replied, “Muhui (Evening Glow) City. It’s said that at dusk, the entire city glows golden. I’ve never been here before—just something I’ve heard.”

The mountains were high and steep. If they could reach the setting sun, then surely they could be bathed in its glow.

“It’s still early. Let’s head in. The Nightmare King surely won’t show up to cause trouble again,” Zhuoxue said, looking toward the gate.

“Can you walk?” Longming asked.

“Of course,” Zhuoxue replied, confused—why wouldn’t she be able to?

But after two steps, she realized her legs felt heavier than they had even in the River of Forgetfulness. If her body were a spring right now, it would be one dried and cracked—completely devoid of strength, her mouth parched. Her spiritual platform no longer cared—neither about suppressing the seal nor about letting her feel well. It was a battle to the death.

Left with no choice, Zhuoxue leaned on the stone wall and slowly hobbled forward. After just a few steps, she was out of breath, eyes pleading as she looked at Longming, saying nothing—just letting her understand. Even just offering a hand for support would be nice. She had been so considerate already—surely she could understand her meaning?

After a while, a laughing child ran past, nearly bumping into them. Zhuoxue stepped aside, just half a step, and even that took all her strength.

She hadn’t expected that while the city gate was already crowded with people coming and going, the inside would be even more packed. As far as the eye could see, it was a vast sea of people, their moving heads like waves in motion.

Zhuoxue murmured, “If I squeeze into that crowd now… wouldn’t I be carried along without needing to walk a single step myself?”

“What do you mean?” Longming was still focused on sniffing out the scent of Smoke and Rain Dream, her brows slightly furrowed. It was far too strong—at least twice as potent as usual.

“I’d just be pushed forward by the crowd,” Zhuoxue said as she moved to step ahead, “going with the flow.”

But Longming stopped in her tracks. Unhurried, she brought the long hair from her back to the front. Her black hair flowed like silk, its luster even more radiant than the shimmering patterns on a ceremonial robe. So smooth—it looked like one could comb through it from root to tip in a single stroke.

Zhuoxue turned her head, but unfortunately, Longming’s bamboo hat covered her too well. She couldn’t see her expression at all.

Longming bent down slightly and said calmly, “Get on.”

Get on? On her back?

Zhuoxue thought she must have misheard. But ever since she woke up, her hearing had become sharper. There was no way she heard it wrong.

The last two times Longming had held her were when she was delirious—once just after a breakthrough, once when she was drunk. Back then, even being carried by Longming didn’t register. But now she was completely clear-headed. To just blatantly climb onto Longming’s back like this—it felt a bit embarrassing.

A hundred years ago, she used to step on that big white tiger like a footstool every day and never once felt awkward. Back then, the white tiger was just a tiger—docile and obedient. Whether she stepped on it or leaned against it, it was perfectly natural.

Even just days ago, Longming had carried her back to the mortal world, in the form of that white tiger.

But this was different.

This wasn’t some big white tiger—this was a beautiful woman, as graceful as a flower. Aloof and elegant, even asking someone to climb onto her back sounded like an imperial command.

“Or would you rather go with the flow?” Longming asked. Her tone was flat—not mocking, just a simple question.

Zhuoxue pondered—could it be… After just one night, Longming had started to mistake her for her past-life lover’s substitute?

Oh, Longming, such weak resolve.

Longming’s gaze was calm. She didn’t rush her.

Zhuoxue walked forward without hesitation and climbed on. “No need to be polite,” she said. “And I’m guessing you didn’t mean it politely either.”

As soon as she lowered her head, she saw a glimpse of Longming’s pale but not lifeless neck. A few stray strands of black hair hadn’t been brought to the front and ended up caught beneath her.

Zhuoxue hooked them gently with her finger and brushed them forward.

“You…” Longming’s scalp tingled slightly. “What are you doing?”

Zhuoxue answered honestly, “I was lying on your hair.”

“It’s fine.” Longming walked steadily into the crowd, her emotions unreadable.

Zhuoxue saved her strength and couldn’t help but marvel, “How did they carve this out? This isn’t mud—it’s solid stone. And yet there are stairs and floors inside. Truly impressive.”

She rambled on nonstop, twisting and turning to look around, completely forgetting how sensitive and reactive she’d been just last night to the slightest movement.

It was as if a rattle drum had been strapped to Longming’s back. If her arms hadn’t been holding Zhuoxue tightly in place, the fox would have surely fallen flat on all fours.

“This city was built two hundred years ago. Even dripping water can wear through stone. For mortals, carving out a city is no impossible feat,” Longming said. She applied a bit more strength, hoisting the slipping fox back up.

Zhuoxue froze and clung to her immediately, arms circling Longming’s neck securely.

So strange.

This time, it wasn’t Longming who felt off—it was her. Why wasn’t she getting overwhelmed with heat today?

Right now, Longming wasn’t in her twin-winged tiger form. Her back felt delicate and slender, not broad. When she spoke, Zhuoxue could almost feel the vibrations of her chest cavity. As if they were intimately close—nothing in between.

Zhuoxue leaned back slightly, something in her heart giving a small jolt. If she had to name the cause, it could only be Longming—no one else.

She looked elsewhere. “What were you saying earlier about the scent of Smoke and Rain Dream?”

“What?”

The surrounding noise was too loud—Longming couldn’t hear her.

Zhuoxue had no choice but to rest her chin on Longming’s shoulder and repeat everything exactly. Her breath brushed past Longming’s ear—warm, but lacking the sultry dampness of the night before.

This time, Longming heard her clearly. She fell silent for a long moment, then finally said, “It’s too strong. It’s never been like this before.”

In the crowd, her voice was concealed by an invisible force. Those nearby could only see her lips moving but heard no sound. They simply assumed it was the noise of the market drowning out her voice. Only Zhuoxue could hear her clearly.

Zhuoxue guessed, “Maybe someone spilled the incense?”

Longming shook her head. “Liangmeng isn’t the careless type. Ever since I’ve known her, the Smoke and Rain Dream scent has never gone wrong.”

“Maybe she got lazy and had a servant burn it for her—and that person was clumsy, so the scent ended up this strong,” Zhuoxue speculated.

Longming’s brows furrowed slightly, like distant mountains. “Not impossible.”

“Once we enter the Huangliang Dream Market tonight, you’ll understand why,” said Zhuoxue, her throat dry and parched. Not only were her legs weak, but even her lips and teeth felt numb. She was so exhausted she didn’t want to utter another word. Her head tilted slightly—and just like that, she drifted into a heavy sleep, without a single word of farewell.

Longming cast a glance over her shoulder and caught sight of the fox’s pale face. Silver and black strands of hair fell messily over her features, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings. She mumbled something in her sleep—seemingly dreaming.

She listened—and, unexpectedly, Zhuoxue murmured “ladle.”

Longming was speechless.

Around midnight, Zhuoxue was suddenly awakened by the clanging of the night watchman’s gong. She opened her eyes and realized she was in a stone chamber. The room was brightly lit, candles scattered everywhere. It seemed the wax had accumulated over the years, forming stalactites like those found in caves.

Half-lidded, she rose from the bed, relaxing slightly upon seeing Longming. Glancing around, she asked, “Where is this? Don’t tell me we’re inside again?”

She had only entered a nightmare once, yet had already become as skittish as a frightened bird.

“An inn,” replied Longming, raising a hand and, without warning, extinguishing the candles. “It’s time.”

Lit by the glow outside the window, Zhuoxue walked forward barefoot, her golden eyes bright and alert. “Is it open now? Where’s the entrance to the Dream Market?”

The houses throughout the city were aglow, the night watchman carrying his gong up the stone steps. Even though it was already the third watch of the night, there were still hawkers trying to attract customers by their stalls. Clearly, they were still in Muhui City—there was no sign of the Huangliang Dream Market.

Longming closed her eyes and inhaled, identifying the scent of Smoke and Rain Dream. She turned and said, “Follow me. The place where the scent is strongest is where we need to go.”

It happened to be within the inn itself. Zhuoxue called out, “Wait a moment,” and leaned toward the vanity for a closer look.

A bronze mirror stood on the vanity, its surface so clear that every strand of hair was visible.

She had only known her hair had turned half black and half white. She hadn’t yet checked if her appearance had changed—was she perhaps becoming more and more like her past life?

As she leaned in, she froze for a moment.

Her brows and eyes were the same, but her pupils now looked more like those she had in her beast form—not like amber, but like golden moons in the sky.

Unfortunately, they weren’t full moons. They were vertical, like cut gems.

She looked more and more like a demon. Gathering up her long hair, she suddenly turned back to look at Longming—only to catch her averting her eyes. Her gaze had just been fixed—and in the next instant, like pages in a book being flipped, it swished aside.

Zhuoxue muttered inwardly, So much for the great demon being afraid of ladles—what utter nonsense, just a self-comforting lie. This big tiger clearly got struck senseless by fake heavenly lightning.

If fake lightning was this powerful, wouldn’t real lightning leave both her and Longming paralyzed on one side? Better not. She was now as helpless as a newborn chick—how could she survive such an injury?

“Longming, my eyes are golden and shiny—look at them,” she said on purpose.

“Mm.” Longming didn’t look. She just said, “Let’s go.”

Zhuoxue, suspicious, released the lock of hair, and followed listlessly.

To leave this stone-carved inn, they had to climb upward—unexpectedly, the entrance was situated high above. Their current dwelling was among the lowest parts of the city.

Zhuoxue was drenched in sweat after just a few steps. She desperately wanted to shift into her fox form and ride on Longming’s shoulder. Unfortunately, her spiritual energy was depleted. Now that she was in human form, she had to stay in human form. She gave up and sat on the stone steps, kicking her legs as she looked at Longming.

The mountain city night was thick and dark. The fox sat by the mountainside, long hair flowing down. Her golden eyes darted about, clever yet out of place, like a moon’s reflection in water—scattered with a touch.

Longming tilted her head. “Can’t walk anymore?”

The fox stretched out both arms, her sleeves slipping down and hanging by her elbows. She wasn’t walking. She wanted a piggyback.

Longming said, “It’s only two more steps.”

The fox lowered her arms and braced them on her knees, leaning sideways to gaze at the demon not far away. “Why won’t you look at me?”

The great demon took off her bamboo hat. Her hair was slightly tousled from the pressure. She raised a hand to smooth it, then turned her gaze calmly toward Zhuoxue. This time, she didn’t look away.