The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 12

Speaking of the Little Fox’s Close-Body Service

Beneath Longming’s fingertip, the skin of that face fit the bone structure perfectly — no trace of magic to be found anywhere. Truly, it had been born that way.

“Never lie?” Her crimson eyes narrowed slightly. When she stared at someone, it was like two fires deep enough to drown in, making one dare not speak carelessly.

            

“Of course. I’d dare swear it to the heavens.” Touched by that hand, the thought Zhuoxue had already pressed to the bottom of her heart crept boldly back to the surface.

This tiger’s buttocks¹ — what would it matter to give them a touch?

First time strangers, second time acquaintances. Once she’d touched enough to get familiar, they wouldn’t need to be so suspicious of each other.

            

Storybooks about marrying first and falling in love later were everywhere in the Mortal Realm. She’d heard them until her ears grew calluses, and she’d long since grasped every trick in them. Surely she could do an excellent job.

It all depended on…

whether this great white tiger would give her the chance.

            

Longming withdrew her hand. She wanted to check the rune on the back of the fox’s neck again, but the mark had already vanished entirely into her skin, leaving not a trace.

Her gaze darkened. She turned to Chunxi. “Deliver an invitation to the Mountain Lord of Qiufeng Ridge. I accept this gift — and I must thank her in person.”

Chunxi received the order and her lithe form dissolved into smoke, presumably off to deliver the invitation.

            

Zhuoxue’s little fantasy went up in smoke instantly, her expression cycling through a thousand changes.

She was done for.

Lan Hui had no idea Zhuoxue had presented herself as a congratulatory gift to Lingkong Mountain. There was no hiding it now.

            

Worse, if her story didn’t match Lan Hui’s, Longming would surely grow suspicious again!

“There’s really no need to thank her.” Zhuoxue stammered. “The Mountain Lord’s courage is no bigger than a grain of rice. She startles at the sight of strangers. If she’s frightened, her body stiffens and she plays dead. Please, My Lord, take back the invitation.”

“That afraid of strangers, and her body stiffens too?” Longming clearly didn’t believe it.

            

Zhuoxue silently apologized to Auntie Lan a hundred times in her heart. “Absolutely true!”

“Then carry her here by force.” Longming’s smile was ambiguous.

Zhuoxue’s eyes went wide. Done for — the mismatched stories are worse than before.

            

In truth, Lan Hui was not afraid of strangers at all, nor would she stiffen and topple over from fright.

Longming withdrew her smile. “Qiu Ruo sent you down the mountain?”

“She told me to go down and fetch wine.” Zhuoxue didn’t believe for a moment that Longming didn’t know the reason. This master and servant must have coordinated beforehand to come up with such a wicked way to torment her.

            

Longming said slowly, “The wine is beneath Wugu Cliff. You took quite the roundabout path.”

Zhuoxue bit the bullet. “Earlier the area beneath Wugu Cliff was crawling with hungry ghosts. How could I go down? I meant to take a detour up the mountain to report, but the ghosts caught my scent and came after me — I couldn’t shake them no matter which way I turned.”

“Were you carrying Ghost’s Dread?” Longming leaned down, her silver hair falling from her shoulder to drape over her arm.

            

She pinched the corner of Zhuoxue’s collar, staring straight into her eyes. “Why else would hungry ghosts chase you?”

Zhuoxue didn’t dare meet Longming’s gaze. She shook out her sleeve to prove her innocence. “I wouldn’t have the nerve. If I came across any Ghost’s Dread, I’d kick it away with my foot.”

She paused, then added, “I would never use some self-injury ruse². Don’t paint me as the villain here. If you don’t believe me, search me yourself!”

            

“What if you tossed it among the rocks? How would I find it?” Longming hadn’t smelled Ghost’s Dread on her anyway, so she let go.

Zhuoxue couldn’t defend herself. She muttered, “I’d pluck every flower on Lingkong Mountain before I’d touch a single leaf of Ghost’s Dread.”

Looking across Lingkong Mountain, wild grasses grew lush, tree shadows danced — everywhere was a sea of green, not a speck of color to be found. It was verdant to the point of monotony.

            

Up the mountain and down, not a single flower could be found.

When the fox first arrived, she hadn’t noticed this strangeness.

“Silver-tongued as you are, Lingkong Mountain hasn’t a single flower. Go on, produce one for me.” The silver-haired demon lord scoffed and turned away.

            

Zhuoxue was still sitting on the ground. She looked up and saw the demon lord’s beautiful back, and that…

slightly fuller curve.

Her thoughts were immediately commandeered by phrases from the Mortal Realm — “more beautiful than flowers,” “like flowers and jade.”

            

“I have one right before my eyes.” The words tumbled out of Zhuoxue’s mouth.

The demon lord paused. Could she have also gone hard of hearing?

The girl sat sprawled on the gravel, her pale face tilted up to look at her. A barely noticeable smudge of dust clung to her hair at the temple — probably scraped against a mountain crevice. She looked pitiable indeed.

            

Longming assumed the fox was spouting nonsense again and that she’d misheard. She said coolly, “Follow me up the mountain.”

“What about the wine?” Zhuoxue asked tentatively.

“No need to fetch it.”

            

Zhuoxue thought: Then what did I come all the way down for? And I nearly lost my life!

In the distance, the demon lord strolled toward the main peak. Clouds and mist gathered wherever she walked, and the mountain shadows grew hazy and indistinct, making it impossible to tell where one stood.

The Maze Array repaired itself with a single step of hers, as effortlessly as plucking a flower or bending a willow.

            

Zhuoxue scrambled up, but the fog was thick. She couldn’t make out Longming’s direction and had to reach out to feel her way, barely catching the corner of a sleeve.

Longming didn’t brush her off, but who could have expected that hand to be less than honest — it groped its way toward her waist and back. She seized the fox’s delicate wrist without warning. Her fingers circled it once, with room to spare even when she tightened her grip.

“Where are you touching?” Longming asked.

            

The fox blinked, not daring to try anything else. She stammered, “I was afraid of following the wrong person.”

“Who else would be here but me?”

“Who knows.” The fox’s eyes darted. “What if that pig demon hasn’t left and tries to abduct me?”

            

The great demon ahead stopped abruptly, and the fox bumped right into her.

“Hungry ghosts chase you, and pig demons try to abduct you?” Longming gave a faint scoff.

Zhuoxue made vague sounds of agreement. “I must be quite the rarity, or I wouldn’t have been delivered as a gift.”

            

“Quite the rarity indeed — grew legs, knows how to run out of the mountain on its own.” Longming released the wrist.

“I was dodging hungry ghosts, not running away.” Zhuoxue denied it completely.

“No need to run anymore. Rest easy. I doubt they’d dare show themselves casually before me.” There was more to Longming’s words than met the ear.

            

Zhuoxue drew a soft breath. This was plainly a threat!

But the words made sense too. With the demon lord of Cangqiong Mountain Realm beside her, even if thousands of hungry ghosts came swarming, they might not be able to harm her.

On the main peak, drums and music played in unison. Guests exchanged toasts, their festive spirit unbroken by the earth-shaking tremor from earlier.

            

Some small demons couldn’t handle the Annual Tribute Wine. They drunkenly reverted to their original forms and passed out on the mountain paths.

Seeing the demon lord return, Head Steward Qiu Ruo stepped forward to greet her. Her gaze flickered briefly behind the demon lord, and she said in a low voice, “Demon Lord, this fox…”

“Let her stay for now,” Longming said.

            

Zhuoxue didn’t catch it. Seeing Qiu Ruo’s gaze land on her, she quickly clasped her empty hands behind her back and whispered, “The demon lord said the wine can wait.”

Qiu Ruo gave a faint scoff.

“If not, could you assign me another task?” Zhuoxue rubbed her hands behind her back, eyeing the tables laden with dishes. She was genuinely getting hungry.

            

She needed to find a way to avoid both Longming and the head steward.

Qiu Ruo kept her voice low and pointed elsewhere. “Go fill tea and wine for the demon lords over there.”

How would Zhuoxue recognize any demon lords? The different demonic auras mixed together, and she couldn’t even tell which one’s power was stronger.

            

Since all guests were guests, she went over and filled tea and wine for every demon present.

The silver-haired demon lord gave a light laugh and walked away. She was the one hosting this All-Demons Banquet, yet she was also the one walking alone.

She didn’t go drink and converse with other demons, nor did she sit at the banquet. Instead, like a proud and solitary lord of all beasts, she walked alone into the hall.

            

Zhuoxue saw that solitary figure walking alone, and her hand paused mid-pour.

Perhaps she’d been staring too openly — Longming actually turned her head and returned the gaze, her meaning unclear.

If any other demon stood before the vast, empty hall, Zhuoxue would have felt loneliness. But those pitch-black hall doors rose to the sky like a colossus, as if they could swallow a person whole.

            

But after that cold gaze swept over, she realized that what would swallow a person wasn’t the empty hall — it was its master.

How could a demon’s very silhouette be so sharp, piercing her vision like a spear? It seemed that her mere existence could carve out a domain around her, an invisible pressure radiating outward.

She’d never seen the Nightmare King, but she thought: if Wugou Stream had a master, it should be someone like Longming.

            

Only after that figure had completely disappeared into the hall did Zhuoxue snap out of her daze. She smiled and said, “Do you demon lords play Leaf Cards?”

Kunyu, the demon lord of Jueming Ridge, was still wreathed in black wind, half a skull obscuring his face, making his expression unreadable. He looked unapproachable, but was actually quite friendly.

Kunyu raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like a Mortal Realm pastime. You know how to play?”

            

Zhuoxue actually produced a deck of Leaf Cards from her sleeve. She rubbed her hands together eagerly. “Here’s the deal: if I lose, I’ll drink a penalty cup. If you demon lords lose — well, drink as much or as little as you please.”

It wasn’t about the wine at all — it was clearly about the meat.

One shichen³ later, the perfectly fine All-Demons Banquet had devolved into a chorus of shouting, looking for all the world like a Mortal Realm tavern.

            

Qiu Ruo leaned against a wine vat, watching in dumbfounded amazement. She had no idea what sorcery the fox had used to persuade a gathering of great demons to join in a mortal game.

As night deepened, the demons either headed home or stayed overnight on Lingkong Mountain.

Zhuoxue had eaten and drunk her fill. She asked a nearby small demon about Longming’s quarters.

            

The small demon actually believed the fox was the demon lord’s close-body demon servant. He pointed the way enviously. “Easy, easy. Just up ahead. Follow the stone path east for a hundred chi, and when you see a pavilion against the green hills, turn left and walk another hundred chi. That’s the demon lord’s bedchamber.”

The fox followed the directions and actually found it.

No one was inside. It wasn’t gilded or silver-inlaid, but the soft gauze screens and jade panels were more exquisite and luxurious than any wealthy household in town.

            

Demons, after all, were born of the essence of sun and moon, accustomed to living freely. Even renowned great demons rarely kept such squared and orderly quarters.

Zhuoxue was quite surprised. The demon lord of Cangqiong Mountain Realm didn’t merely bear a mortal surname — even her daily habits resembled those of mortals.

She wondered how much weight that unnamed old friend carried in the demon lord’s heart.

            

She cast a spell to disperse the smell of wine from her body and quietly sat on the snow-silk mattress.

The moment she sat, it was so soft she felt drowsy. Back at Qiufeng Ridge, she’d slept on smoothed stone slabs — nothing like this comfort.

She didn’t know how long had passed. The door creaked open. The silver-haired demon lord, draped in a fur cloak, stopped in her tracks — perhaps gathering her thoughts.

            

A long moment.

“Who told you to lie here.”

The fox woke. She propped her chin in her hand and said, “What does a close-body demon servant do? Great King, look — is this close enough?”

            

“Get out yourself.”

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