The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 10
by Little PandaSpeaking of the Fox Staying as a Demon Servant
This matter had to be kept quiet — no matter how delighted she was, she couldn’t let it show.
Others were the cinnabar mole, the white moonlight1; she, at present, could barely count as an annoying gnat — the kind that made one instinctively press their palms together in a swatting prayer.
“What a pity,” Zhuoxue said, putting on an act. “Still, meeting you, Great King, in her last life — that was good fortune too.”
This flattery was also something she’d learned in the Mortal Realm. Back at Qiufeng Ridge, the lesser demons had no need to fawn and flatter Lan Hui.
The learning hadn’t gone to waste. After all this time, she’d finally found a use for it.
“Fortune?” Longming’s pair of red pupils dwelt in deep eye sockets, made darker still by the lightless hall.
She studied the fox’s expression — that caught-between-a-smile-and-a-pause look, as though she’d been repeatedly possessed — and said without inflection, “If meeting me counts as fortune, then tell me: how shallow must her original fortune have been?”
It sounded as though the old friend hadn’t had a good life.
The fox didn’t understand mortal joys and sorrows. Mortals were genuinely hard to comprehend — in the storytellers’ mouths, sometimes wandering the world with no home counted as a good life, and sometimes living out a steady, peaceful life was the only true fulfillment. Who knew how they judged such things.
How to answer?
That was someone the tiger demon cared about — how could she just open her mouth and declare the woman had been born unlucky? If she agreed, she’d be failing to steal the chicken and losing the bait2.
“How is that not fortune? Great King, you are so magnificent — one glance is like a spring breeze, like drinking sweet dew. This humble girl has crossed mountains and forded streams, endured untold hardships to reach Lingkong Mountain, and been blessed to behold your radiant countenance.” The fox racked her brains, deploying the silver tongue3 she rarely got to exercise, and for once spoke to her heart’s content.
After she finished, her mouth was dry, and she kept studying Longming’s expression, terrified she hadn’t made herself sound moving enough.
Longming had heard more flattery than this fox had drunk tea in the Mortal Realm — more by an incalculable margin.
These few compliments were a touch clumsy. Fortunately, Longming had no intention of calling her out. She merely said, leisurely, “Such eloquence — the Mountain Lord of Qiufeng Ridge who taught you must be even more skilled. Why didn’t your Mountain Lord come today?”
This bout of banter had somehow dragged Lan Hui into it.
Zhuoxue absolutely did not want to drag Lan Hui into this turmoil — especially right now, when success was out of the question and even her own survival was uncertain.
Her eyes flickered for a long while before she stammered, “I was born eloquent — the Mountain Lord didn’t teach me. The Mountain Lord is shy and not good at socializing, so she specially sent me in her place.”
“Not good at socializing?” Longming’s voice was cool. “True enough. Since I came to Cangqiong Mountain Realm, the Mountain Lord of Qiufeng Ridge has visited only once. Qiufeng Ridge is far away, and I hear the place is overgrown with weeds and spiritually barren — not a good place to live. It’s hard on her.”
How did that sound so understanding?
Yet Longming’s gaze remained as cold and sharp as ever, with not a trace of goodwill to be found.
Zhuoxue’s wits sharpened in desperation, and she squeezed out a stiff smile. “Qiufeng Ridge is a poor, remote place — you could dig three feet into the ground and not unearth a single treasure. The Mountain Lord is too embarrassed, and hasn’t dared set foot on Lingkong Mountain in years. Lord, please don’t take offense!”
“Then what made her dare to send you this time?” Longming asked, unhurried.
“I found a treasure.” The fox’s eyes sparkled.
“Where is this treasure?” Longming sat at her ease, curious what trick this fox could produce.
The fox’s hands were empty.
The fox raised a hand and pointed at herself, beaming. “The treasure is right here.”
For a moment, Longming felt a complicated mix of emotions — yet the fox just grinned foolishly, shamelessly presenting a pretty face that seemed far easier to fool than to be the one doing the fooling.
At first she’d thought this fox somewhat resembled the old friend, but the more she looked, the less alike they were — she was just a silly fox.
This kind of foolishness didn’t look like a pig demon’s accomplice.
“Please accept, Great King.” Zhuoxue cupped her hands and bowed to the ground. Black hair spilled from her back, flowing down in soft, winding strands.
Her beast form’s fur was snow-white, yet in human form she bore a full head of black hair.
Longming studied her for a long while, detected no illusion, and said, “All right. The banquet isn’t over yet. Go find Qiu Ruo to receive your tasks.”
“Autumn Tiger4? Where do I find her?” the fox muttered to herself. There was no Autumn Tiger here — only a white tiger.
“I told you to find Qiu Ruo to receive your tasks.” Longming was now certain: this fox was genuinely hard of hearing.
Who was Qiu Ruo?
The fox lifted her head slightly, eyes wide and perfectly round.
Other foxes all had narrow, elongated eyes, but she was different. Her eyes held the same limpid autumn water — only the vessel wasn’t a crescent moon bay but a Peach Blossom Pool.
“The head steward who exposed you earlier,” Longming said, withdrawing her gaze. “You don’t even know that, yet you dared impersonate a demon servant of the mountain.”
Zhuoxue was bewildered again. “A personal demon servant has to get tasks from someone else too?”
The personal attendants she’d seen in the Mortal Realm all took orders from their own master and no one else.
Longming lowered her eyes and smiled faintly. The authority and sharpness in her gaze diminished, leaving only an enchanting beauty that seemed to make heaven and earth pale in comparison.
“Can just anyone be this seat5‘s personal demon servant?” Longming said. “There must be a trial of three to five days before we know whether you’re up to it.”
That made a certain amount of sense.
Zhuoxue’s misgivings dissolved. Before stepping out of the hall, she couldn’t resist glancing back, worried the tiger demon was playing with her.
Outside, laughter and chatter filled the air. When the demons saw a figure emerge from the hall, they fell briefly silent.
Fortunately, the fox that came out had all her limbs intact and wasn’t wearing a mournful face. The banquet resumed its clinking cups, and the demons’ spirits soared once more — no longer worried about accidentally courting bad luck.
The demon called Qiu Ruo was walking about, refilling wine for each demon lord in turn, leaning close to whisper greetings.
Once the wine was all poured, Zhuoxue sidled up with some awkwardness. “Manager, the Demon Lord sent me to receive my tasks.”
Qiu Ruo looked the fox up and down. No surprise showed in her eyes, only mild curiosity. “Aren’t you a personal demon servant? Why come to me for tasks? Did the Demon Lord really send you?”
The fox still had her eyes curved in a smile, prettier than a blooming flower.
Qiu Ruo considered for a moment, then turned to look at the hall doors.
From the hall doors, the silver-haired demon lord stepped out without glancing sideways, nodding in greeting to the great demons who came to welcome her.
Qiu Ruo made up her mind. She lifted her chin toward the foot of the mountain and smiled. “The banquet’s Annual Tribute Wine is almost gone. Go down the mountain and fetch it — carry both large vats up. The All-Demons Banquet must continue for seven more days. Don’t neglect the guests.”
The fox stopped smiling. In all her time at Qiufeng Ridge, she’d never done a stitch of heavy labor. Two large vats of wine — it sounded like it could claim her fox life outright.
This was definitely exploitation.
“Off you go,” Qiu Ruo urged.
Zhuoxue stammered, “The—the vats, where are they?”
“There’s only one cave beneath Wugu Cliff. A fox’s nose ought to be sharp — follow the scent and you’ll find it, won’t you?” Qiu Ruo said warmly.
Yet the head steward spoke so kindly, with not a trace of mockery on her face — her manner perfectly sincere.
Zhuoxue’s life had just been spared; she didn’t dare dawdle. She turned and headed down the mountain.
Fine, then. Carrying two vats of wine would at least build her arm strength.
A personal demon servant — just the title sounded impressive. Ten inches or eight feet was close; clothes touching clothes was close too.
When the time came, she would climb into the demon lord’s bed, pin the tiger demon down so she couldn’t move — call to heaven with no answer, cry to earth with no response — and then once the rice is cooked, it can’t be uncooked6.
Come to think of it, though, she had no idea how to cook the rice. She figured groping the tiger’s backside would probably suffice.
The fox didn’t dare much, but she dared to dream.
The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced of her own brilliance. She skipped and bounded down to the mountainside before it occurred to her: the Maze Array at the mountain’s base had just been destroyed, and the Ghost’s Dread scattered everywhere — who knew if it was still there.
Where there was Ghost’s Dread, there would be hungry ghosts. She wasn’t afraid of ghosts — but she was afraid of ugly ghosts and vicious ghosts.
At the thought of those spirits, the fox’s legs went half-soft, and for a moment she wasn’t sure she could still carry those two vats of wine.
And wouldn’t you know it — Lingkong Mountain towered into the clouds. Going up the mountain was easy, but coming down was hard. Even if she used demonic power to pierce the clouds and fog, she’d still be exhausted beyond recognition.
From below, occasional howls drifted up — unmistakably the roars of hungry ghosts.
Ghost energy surged skyward, forcibly replacing the original mist and turning the air at the mountain’s base thick black, darker than ink.
Zhuoxue thought to herself: Wonderful. Just wonderful. Good old Longming — why use a butcher’s knife to kill a chicken7? To kill her, of all people, required all this roundabout scheming.
Who knew what those patrol demons were up to — every one of them off taking their ease elsewhere, not bothering to deal with the hungry ghosts at the mountain’s base.
Was she still going to carry the wine?
Zhuoxue didn’t want to do it anymore. But she didn’t want to go back up the mountain for punishment either. A moment ago she’d been raring to go, the whole script written in her head — now she’d deflated like a punctured balloon.
Since she was already down the mountain, why not just flee back to Qiufeng Ridge? She didn’t want to form a marriage alliance anymore. Going back in disgrace wouldn’t be so bad — Lan Hui could think whatever she wanted of her.
If the tiger demon Great King asked, she’d just say Qiufeng Ridge had recalled a gift and would send a new one another day.
This was just Zhuoxue’s nature — one whim after another. Lan Hui always said her temperament was unstable and fickle, but Zhuoxue disagreed.
It wasn’t that she fished for three days and dried her nets for two8. When she thought of something, she did it — she was simply cutting her losses in time.
Exactly. Reining in at the cliff’s edge9 — better late than never.
As the saying goes, of the thirty-six stratagems, fleeing is the best10. The fox gathered her skirts and tiptoed around Buji Cliff.
She wasn’t afraid of the intruder ambushing her. That demon was after Longming — even if she ran into them face-to-face, as long as she played blind, they’d have no reason to silence her.
The fox had it all figured out beautifully. Unfortunately, things didn’t go as planned. She was nearly out of Lingkong Mountain’s peak group when a howl suddenly rang beside her ear.
It was demonic energy.
This demon meant no goodwill. The demonic energy that whipped toward her was fierce and domineering — though far weaker than Longming’s pressure, it was not to be underestimated.
The fox’s pupils shrank. So they really were going to silence her? She was just an innocent passerby — she hadn’t even seen a shadow of the demon.
With another demon bullying her right overhead, the fox wasn’t about to take it meekly. She twisted her wrist and cracked the Ten-Section Soft Whip. Silver bells rang sharply as she stepped back.
“If I don’t fight back, do they think I’m a vegetarian?” the fox muttered to herself.
No one answered. Only the whisper of demonic wind.
The whirling demonic energy drew Ghost’s Dread from afar, and hungry ghosts surged in. Instantly, black fog blotted out the sky and rocks came crashing down.
Not quite ten thousand — but thousands!
Had the spirits been able to take physical form, this place would have been packed airtight.
The intruder had no intention of striking personally. He intended to use ghost power to weave this place into a cage.
As the last of the daylight was about to be swallowed whole, Zhuoxue transformed into a white fox and slipped through the crevices in the rocks — like a mole digging tunnels, diving into every gap she could find.
No wonder the patrol demons weren’t at the mountain’s base. This horde of hungry ghosts was more than any ordinary lesser demon could withstand.
How ruthless, Longming. Instead of clearing the demons and ghosts from Lingkong Mountain, she was borrowing their power to harm her — calling it a “trial.”
Longming — the fox’s fury was not something you could bear—
Never mind. The fox darted everywhere, bumping into things until she saw stars.
The fox was pretty good at fleeing for her life, and her fury only dared to burn for a moment or two as well.
Footnotes
- From Eileen Chang's novella 'Red Rose, White Rose' (1944): the 'cinnabar mole' represents the passionate, unforgettable lover; the 'white moonlight' represents the unattainable ideal. Together they denote two archetypes of love.
- A Chinese folk idiom meaning to attempt to gain an advantage but end up worse off than before; to have one's scheme backfire.
- From 'Records of the Grand Historian': describing a glib, persuasive speaker. 'Three-inch' refers to the tongue's size; 'unbreakable' means it cannot be defeated in debate.
- Due to her hearing impairment, Zhuoxue mishears the name 'Qiu Ruo' as 'Qiu Laohu,' meaning 'Autumn Tiger.'
- A formal self-referential used by powerful demons, literally meaning 'this seat.' It conveys supreme authority and elevated status.
- A Chinese idiom meaning to make something a done deal that cannot be reversed. Frequently used in the context of forcing a relationship or marriage by creating an irrevocable situation.
- A variant of a phrase from the 'Analects' meaning there is no need for excessive force for a minor task. The standard form uses an ox knife; the source adds 'butcher' for emphasis.
- A Chinese idiom meaning to work in fits and starts; to be inconsistent and lack perseverance. The image is of a fisherman who alternates between fishing and mending nets.
- A Chinese idiom meaning to stop in time before disaster strikes; to pull back from the brink.
- From the 'Thirty-Six Stratagems,' a famous Chinese military treatise. The last stratagem is fleeing. Used idiomatically to mean retreating is the wisest course when all else fails.
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