Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 49

The blue smoke drifted away in an instant. What kind of world was hidden within it? Only the owner of the jade bead could know.

Seeing Longming’s gaze suddenly change—her red pupils darker than ink—Zhuoxue leaned in halfway and asked in a hushed voice, “What did Aunt Lan say?” It couldn’t be just a random greeting. Lanhui was never one to take things lightly.

Longming suddenly raised a finger and tapped lightly on the desk. Instantly, a drop of tea from her cup flew up, transforming into a shimmering watery screen that enclosed her and Zhuoxue.

“The Mourning Dove Messenger died a tragic death without cause, so Yaojing has closed the Celestial Gate.” Longming paused, glancing at the fox beside her. Her gaze was deep, as though she hadn’t finished speaking.

“What else?” Zhuoxue asked.

“She asked me to keep you safe,” said Longming.

Zhuoxue was puzzled. “Do you feel guilty toward Aunt Lan? Why that expression?”

Longming didn’t answer, only said, “So the Mourning Dove Messenger is dead. No wonder Tianji dared to misuse heavenly thunder.”

“What is the Mourning Dove Messenger?” Zhuoxue whispered near her ear, uncertain if the shimmering water barrier could block their voices.

Longming let out a cold snort, her eyes filled with disdain. “It’s a bird in Yaojing that only reports bad news, never good. This bird follows the orders of the Head Immortal alone—it can foresee disasters.”

“What counts as disaster?” Zhuoxue was slightly stunned. “There are so many disasters in the world. If it reports every one, wouldn’t it be crying every day?”

Longming replied, “Anything that threatens the Head Immortal is a disaster.”

Currently, the Head Immortal of Yaojing was Tianji. And what could threaten Tianji, if not—

Zhuoxue pointed at herself with certainty. “Then it must be me.”

Longming looked out at the dim sky. Her wooden hairpin was loose, and silver strands had grown slightly messy.

“The Mourning Dove Messenger must have foreseen what would happen once the seal was broken—exposing what Tianji did back then. To silence the bird, Tianji could only kill it,” Longming said slowly.

“He cried thief to catch the thief, so he shut the Celestial Gate?” Zhuoxue suddenly understood.

“Exactly. The Mourning Dove Messenger’s reports are never wrong. Tianji must be in utter panic,” Longming sneered.

Zhuoxue felt a chill rise, muttering, “No wonder he’s desperate to kill me.”

“It’s only because the seal loosened that he could even locate you,” Longming said, caressing the jade bead in her hand.

Zhuoxue was already used to this. Even if Tianji himself fell from the sky right now, she wouldn’t be surprised. Seeing Longming fiddling with the jade bead, she couldn’t help but ask, “Why do you use a jade bead to communicate with Aunt Lan, but use pen and paper when writing to that demon lord from Jueming Ridge?” The fox hadn’t forgotten how those revealed words had once scorched her back.

Longming stayed silent for a moment, then said flatly, “Kunyu is too noisy.”

Zhuoxue thought back to what happened in the mountains and had to admit—she was a bit noisy indeed.

Longming returned the jade bead to her brocade pouch. Seeing that the water screen around them was about to dissipate, she tapped the desk once more, dissolving the water into bubbles.

“Fortunately, the demon core counterbalances the seal, so we can still enjoy a few peaceful days.” Zhuoxue moved the steaming teacup in front of Longming. The situation was unfavorable to her. Although she could avoid Tianji for now, if trouble arose along the way, she’d still have to rely on Longming. That big tiger was thick-skinned and tough—she would surely manage.

Longming picked up the teacup and was just about to take a sip when her expression suddenly changed. She quickly flung the tea aside. With a splash, the tea splattered across a screen embroidered with green birds, spreading into a large wet stain. The silver threads on the screen didn’t change, but after the sheer fabric soaked up the water, the color darkened slightly, and the blue-feathered bird transformed into a black phoenix.

Zhuoxue turned her head and saw the stain, her heart leaping to her throat. Eyes wide, she asked, “Is it poisoned?”

“No.” Longming stared at the cup in her hand. Only a few drops of tea remained. “But in the past, the Dream Market’s mistress always brewed the tea herself, and the leaves came only from Autumn Mountain Fog. Today, it wasn’t brewed by her, and the tea isn’t from Autumn Mountain Fog either.”

“Did some little demon fetch the wrong tea?” Zhuoxue asked.

No. That was impossible.

The Huangliang Dream Market wasn’t an ordinary place like the mortal world. Those who served the Dream Market’s mistress were likely carefully selected and utterly trustworthy demons. How could they be clumsy or forgetful—unless the mistress herself had named the wrong tea? In a place like this, where immortals and demons gathered, one mistake as the host could lead to serious consequences. And today’s errors weren’t just a one-time slip. Ever since the scent of the Smoke and Rain Dream, things at the Huangliang Dream Market had felt off in every way. Even though she and Longming had been here for quite a while, the Dream Market’s mistress had yet to appear.

Zhuoxue felt a growing unease. She lightly tapped twice on the red brocade pouch at Longming’s waist. Even with the illusionary screen around them, she didn’t dare speak aloud.

Longming was about to take it off for her but saw her shake her head.

Zhuoxue tapped again. Her golden eyes glowed brighter than the moon. She muttered under her breath, her voice softer than a mosquito.

Longming finally understood—she wasn’t asking for the money pouch. Clearly, she wanted the brocade storage pouch. She reached into her sleeve and frowned. “What do you want it for?”

Zhuoxue shushed her gently, glancing warily at the misty curtain beyond the water barrier. In a small voice, she said, “Don’t let them see.”

“They can’t see,” Longming replied.

“Give it to me.” Zhuoxue opened her palm and gave her wrist a light shake. No more beating around the bush with Longming—she went straight to the point. “Don’t ask. Just give it to me.”

Longming stared at her without blinking.

Under the ghostly mask, Zhuoxue raised an eyebrow and scoffed, “You think I’d harm myself?”

Longming took out the brocade pouch and placed it in her pale hand, only warning her, “Be sure to hold it tight.”

“Nine chances out of ten, I’ll be fine. I just need it for a moment. I’ll give it back later.” 

Zhuoxue quickly tucked the pouch into her sleeve. As she turned, her fox ears twitched sharply—highly alert and agile. Sensing no disturbance outside, she walked to the edge of the illusion and reached out a finger to poke it gently. This was far more fragile than a window’s paper lattice—like a bubble, it burst with a single poke. The shimmering watery barrier instantly collapsed back into a single drop of tea.

Plop—the tea hit the floor.

Zhuoxue flicked her fingertips, walked over, lifted the sheer curtain, and called out, “Is anyone there?”

In the distance, a little demon hurried over, smiling apologetically. “Please don’t be offended, my lord. It seems my mistress is still preoccupied.”

Zhuoxue feigned displeasure. “Today’s tea leaves were chosen by the Dream Market’s mistress. But the tea—who brewed it?”

The little demon scratched her head awkwardly. “Usually, whatever tea our mistress wants, we fetch it. But today, she was busy with other matters and told us to brew the tea on her behalf.”

“I can’t drink this kind of tea. It upsets my stomach,” Zhuoxue said with a straight face. “I need to relieve myself.”

The little demon blinked. “Huh?”

“I need to relieve myself,” Zhuoxue repeated. If she were a mortal, that would’ve made perfect sense—but she was a demon. 

Demons who had worked here together for years were well-acquainted with each other’s habits. Just one look and the little demon could guess—this fox must be stunningly beautiful. Otherwise, why would the gatekeeper assign her a ghost mask? A demon this attractive—how could she possibly have such an odd quirk? The little demon’s expression turned strange. But Huangliang Dream Market was no ordinary place. She had long gotten used to the bizarre and simply gestured into the distance, saying gently, “Please head that way, guest. Turn right and you’ll see some stairs—go down, and you’ll arrive.”

Zhuoxue turned back to Longming and, without giving her a choice, crooked her finger. “You’re coming with me.”

Suspicion flickered plainly in Longming’s eyes.

“Hurry. This place is unfamiliar. I’d be scared going alone,” Zhuoxue lied without hesitation.

The brocade pouch was still in the fox’s sleeve. Who knew what the fox was planning? Longming followed her. Only after they descended the stairs did she ask, “You’re relieving yourself. Why are you taking the ledger?”

Zhuoxue cast her a meaningful glance, didn’t answer, and walked into the latrine. Once inside, she swiftly flipped through the life ledger and neatly tore out the few pages related to her.

Ever since leaving the Underworld King’s Court, even her life thread was no longer visible. Without it, she couldn’t even read the pages with her former name. Fortunately, she remembered exactly which pages they were located in—it was just time-consuming to locate them.

A moment later, the fox emerged from the gold-and-jade adorned latrine, even going through the motions of cleansing her hands with jade dew.

Longming stood not far away by the railing, head lowered, watching the ornamental pond and artificial mountain below.

Zhuoxue leaned in curiously. “What are you looking at?”

“One is missing,” said Longming.

“Hm?” Zhuoxue stared at the shimmering fish pond until her vision blurred with light spots—she couldn’t even count how many fish there were. The fish didn’t stay still, and there weren’t just a few of them. No way she could count them on one hand.

“Cooked and eaten?” Zhuoxue asked in surprise.

“These fish come from Xiling Abyss. They only dwell in places with light and must be fed five times a day with sea serpent saliva. Miss one meal and they’ll die,” Longming said slowly in her cool, serene voice, and then gave a sudden, chilling chuckle. The laugh was icy, like shards of glass in the ear. “These fish are purely ornamental, but extremely rare. Liangmeng has raised them for a hundred years and treasures them dearly. She’s even nurtured them to develop sentience,” Longming added.

“With that level of care, they shouldn’t just die out of nowhere,” Zhuoxue paused. “Could it be…”

Could it be that something had happened to the mistress of Huangliang Dream Market? She and Longming had come all the way to Yunjing just for the Dream Market. Had the Nightmare King already noticed?

Zhuoxue didn’t want to jump to conclusions, so she stopped mid-sentence.

Longming turned and went back upstairs. Her face was almost entirely hidden behind the ghost mask. Only her flowing silver hair and calm, measured steps gave any clue to her mood.

“It’s fine,” she said. “We’re already here. Let’s deal with whatever comes.”

Zhuoxue followed her, slipping the brocade pouch back into Longming’s hand—inevitably brushing her fingers in the process.

It was just a touch, yet Longming flinched like she’d been struck by lightning, quickly clenching her fingers closed.

“I washed my hands with jade dew,” Zhuoxue defended herself. “Besides, it’s not like I really needed to do what mortals do.”

“I didn’t mean…” Longming paused. “Forget it.”

“Forget what?” Zhuoxue tilted her head.

“I should be asking you—what suddenly put you in that kind of mood?” Longming asked.

Zhuoxue gave her a sly, meaningful smile. Her golden eyes curved, and she drawled, “What’s the point of so many questions?”

Longming asked no more. She tucked the brocade pouch away at a measured pace.

When they returned to the pavilion, a little demon was waiting outside the beaded curtain. The demon looked flustered, and upon seeing the ghost-masked honored guest return, quickly stepped forward.

“Would you like to listen to music or watch a dance performance, my esteemed lords?” she asked, bowing respectfully.

Longming lifted the curtain and stepped into the room. Seeing a freshly changed pot of tea on the table, even the teacups were new, she sat down and asked, “Where is your mistress?”

The little demon responded, “She is in the pavilion, but hasn’t yet given word on when she’ll receive guests. If you’d like music and dancing, I can arrange it immediately.”

“No need,” Longming declined.

The little demon respectfully stood outside the curtain. “If you need anything, just call.”

Zhuoxue sat down and lifted the lid of the teapot. The tea aroma was different from earlier—clearly, the little demon had brewed a new pot due to her displeasure. She looked at Longming. “Is it this flavor?”

“It’s not,” Longming said without even tasting, merely extending a finger to move the teacup to the center of the table.

After a long wait, Zhuoxue slumped with boredom, almost falling asleep. She propped up her chin and glanced at Longming, her golden eyes nearly dull.

“Let’s go,” Longming suddenly said.

Zhuoxue blinked in surprise. They were leaving?

But just then, footsteps approached in the corridor. The little demon standing outside the curtain called softly, “Mistress, the honored guest is inside.”

Zhuoxue straightened slightly, catching a glimpse of displeasure in Longming’s eyes. It couldn’t just be the lateness of the Dream Market’s host—if Longming were angry, she’d have shown it much earlier. 

Given how meticulous she always was, could she have sensed that even Liangmeng’s footsteps were off?

If it had been Jueguang, would that big white tiger be able to notice such detail?

The mistress of Huangliang Dream Market arrived late. Before she appeared, two auspicious birds flew through the curtain, chirping around Longming.

Longming raised an arm to block her face, refusing the birds’ approach.

The birds returned to Liangmeng’s side, their feathers as dazzling as the emerald plumage on her ornate robes.

Liangmeng waved the little demon away and said with a mocking smile, “A rare guest indeed.”

Back on Lingkong Mountain, Zhuoxue had once glimpsed the Dream Market’s mistress. The face matched the memory, but now devoid of spiritual power, she couldn’t tell if this appearance was real or shaped by magic.

Longming’s tone remained unchanged. “You’re late.”

“Just had to deal with a difficult one.” Liangmeng sighed. “Insisted on inspecting the goods personally. Everyone knows Bone-Fragrance vanishes in wind—good for one use only. Clearly wanted to sabotage my merchandise.” She lifted her skirt and sat. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“No trouble.” Longming looked directly at her. “Did you find what I asked for?” She was referring to the sigil on the back of the fox’s neck.

Liangmeng poured herself a cup of tea. “I thought you came for business, but it turns out you’re just here for information. Since I haven’t sent word, it means I’ve found nothing.”

“Business is also an option,” Longming said.

“What do you want?” Liangmeng asked, completely composed, lips curled in confidence—convinced she had whatever was needed.

Longming played coy. “You already know what I want.”

Silence settled over the room.

Zhuoxue lowered her head and tucked her sleeves neatly. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a tightly shut window. If only she could shift into fox form, she’d already have smashed it and escaped.

“Tear-Treasuring Eye.” Liangmeng tapped her finger gently on the table. At once, the two birds flapped forward, lifted the teacup, and brought it to her lips. She took a sip, speaking slowly, “So it was that—you went to the Yellow Spring Palace?”

“You’re well-informed,” Longming replied flatly, feigning civility.

Liangmeng chuckled. “Heard the Underworld King’s Court burned down. Besides you, I can’t think of anyone else. You must’ve wanted to use the Tear-Treasuring Eye to examine the life ledger—am I right?”

“You saw through me,” Longming said insincerely.

“All right, hand it over. I’ll drip the tear on it.” Liangmeng extended a hand. “Perfect timing, there’s just one drop left.”

Longming pressed her lips together, tension rising.

Just then, at the most critical moment, Zhuoxue pulled the life ledger from her sleeve, looking completely guileless. “Then you better return it later.”

Longming turned sharply toward her, storm brewing in her expression, eyes dark. Too bad the ghost mask hid it all.

The mask is quite convenient, Zhuoxue secretly thought. That way, she didn’t have to look at Longming’s face.

At first glance, the life ledger seemed ordinary, but the ghostly aura at its edges revealed it had come from the Yellow Spring Palace.

Liangmeng turned to her, pausing before finally reaching out to accept it. She stood and smiled. “Please wait a bit longer. I’ll be right back.”

The curtain lifted and dropped.

Zhuoxue tugged on Longming’s sleeve, her voice urgent and hushed. “Let’s get out of here—now.”