The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 23
by Little PandaSpeaking of the Fox Ending Up at Lingkong Mountain
Across the entire Mortal Realm, who knows how many people suffered this unprovoked disaster.
In the eyes of Emperor Tianji and the Nightmare Tribe, victory and defeat may not yet have been settled, but many mortals had already walked into death’s snare during those five years of plague.
Lan Hui’s expression was sorrowful. “I was an old acquaintance of the plague ghost. I knew well that she would never be negligent to such a degree. Later, I went to the Nine Springs Bureau and learned that a volume of the Life-and-Death Register had caught fire for no apparent reason. Before it could be transcribed, everyone in that volume died of plague—and by coincidence, a reincarnated immortal was among them.
“If there was any oversight, it would be the Immortal Realm’s failing. I went to the Winding Place and the reincarnation paths to search for traces of the immortal, but found nothing. Left with no choice, I returned to Kunlun Jade Capital and reported the matter to the Bureau of Heavenly Law.
“The Bureau of Heavenly Law had the audacity to say that the burned Life-and-Death Register would be transcribed in due time, and that the new immortal had already passed through the reincarnation gate and was now in the Bureau—ready to take office in seven days, personally appointed by Emperor Tianji. They told me not to overstep my authority.
“I, a ten-thousand-year turtle deity, can effortlessly command clouds and mist even without using immortal power. Harboring suspicions, I secretly circulated water qi and caught sight of lingering Nightmare Tribe demonic energy in the Bureau. Though only a wisp remained, it could not hide from me.”
The displeasure in Longming’s eyes turned into an oppressive pressure that radiated in all directions, startling the fox on her lap into a violent shudder.
Zhuoxue too felt grief surge from within, and for some reason, tears flowed like a spring. She could only keep burying her face in her tail.
She would feel sad about Princess Jueguang’s innocent death, but Princess Jueguang and she had never met. Why was she so upset?
Terrible—she must have been so frightened by Longming that she couldn’t even make sense of her own feelings anymore.
Longming’s fury dissolved into a cold scoff in the next moment. However much she feigned disbelief, it was nothing but self-deception. “So you didn’t see it with your own eyes either.”
Lan Hui said without haste, “Why seven days? Because it takes seven days after death to enter reincarnation. That Nightmare demon clearly hadn’t even passed through the reincarnation gate before Emperor Tianji brought it to the Bureau of Heavenly Law. He couldn’t wait.”
Zhuoxue thought it absurd. Kunlun Jade Capital was full of these makeshift crews1. She might as well move up to the heavens herself.
But what about her—where did she fit in this story?
“And this fox—how did you find her?” Longming lowered her gaze and released the fox’s two paws.
Lan Hui said, “However brazen Emperor Tianji and the Nightmare Tribe might be, they wouldn’t dare kill that mortal before reincarnation. First, heavenly lightning would be unavoidable. Second, only by swapping one out and replacing with another could they deceive the Heavenly Dao. Even if they intended to silence her, it would have to be after the mortal had been reincarnated.”
Longming smoothed the fox’s bristling fur back down. “Mortals are as numerous as clouds, and demons are no fewer. Both gates are thronged with crowds. Finding her wouldn’t be easy.”
“I couldn’t find her, so I had to try another approach.” Lan Hui said, “I hid in the demon realm precisely to watch the Nightmare Tribe’s every move. Eighteen years ago, on the first day of the tenth lunar month, I noticed the Nightmare Tribe mobilizing and tracked them in haste, only to discover they intended to kill a newborn fox to silence any witnesses.
“The Nightmare Tribe wouldn’t act without cause, let alone on such a grand scale, dispatching their most powerful members. I suspected the fox was the mortal who should have become an immortal that year, so I intervened and brought her back to Qiufeng Ridge.”
This was the entirety of the fox’s origins. Only now did Lan Hui recount the full story from beginning to end.
Zhuoxue finally understood why Lan Hui had never allowed her to leave Qiufeng Ridge. The outside world truly was fraught with danger—those who wanted her life included not only immortals but the Nightmare Tribe as well.
And she had indeed failed to finish drinking her Meng Po Soup2. Those recurring daydreams were most likely memories from her past life—she must have been one of the extraordinary figures at Princess Jueguang’s side.
So…
She hadn’t been miserable enough to be a beast for two lifetimes—she had even been a good person who accumulated merit once.
How impressive. Who knows how much merit she must have accumulated to be listed in the Yaojing Celestial Register. What a pity her name was no longer on it—all that effort for nothing.
With that kind of time, she’d have been better off eating a few more chickens.
“You didn’t rescue the wrong one.” Longming rose with the fox in her arms. “The Yellow Springs Bureau won’t be easy to infiltrate, and there may not be any traces left from back then. If the restriction can be lifted, it would save a great deal of trouble.”
Zhuoxue’s fur bristled again. What now—was she going to poke her neck with demonic energy again? She’d tried so many times. Why couldn’t she give up?
“The Yellow Springs Bureau is hard to infiltrate,” Lan Hui said, her worry profound. “And once the restriction is lifted, it can’t be hidden from the Heavenly Dao’s eyes and ears. Strange phenomena will descend from the heavens, and Emperor Tianji won’t be able to conceal anything. This method is indeed the most direct.”
The fox’s paws splayed open. She squirmed in Longming’s arms, unable to believe Lan Hui actually agreed.
If the restriction were forcibly broken, the pain would surely make her soul leave her body. Once the living and the dead were separated, Lan Hui would regret it forever.
“However.” Lan Hui changed tack, fixing her gaze on Longming. “The restriction must never be broken by force, or Zhuoxue’s life would be in grave danger. If anything happened to her, it would only play into Emperor Tianji and the Nightmare Tribe’s hands.”
Zhuoxue breathed a long sigh of relief.
Longming gazed at the fox in her arms, running her fingers through the dense fur. “Aside from breaking the restriction, there’s another approach.”
“What approach?” Lan Hui didn’t understand.
Zhuoxue had a bad feeling about this. It was bound to be some underhanded scheme.
But silver light flashed, and the demonic energy spreading from Longming’s palm poured forth like ten thousand casks of snow-white spray. The demonic energy didn’t attack the restriction. Instead, it surged straight into the fox’s skull, forcibly splitting open her Lingtai3.
Zhuoxue’s head swelled. The soul drifting on her Lingtai was wrapped in cold, and the whole demon became like a crispy-skinned peanut—easily shelled and peeled. She still retained her fox body, her fur still intact, yet in that moment, she felt like a stripped-bare form, exposed completely.
“Don’t harm her soul!” Lan Hui said in alarm.
Longming found nothing. She withdrew her spiritual power and said, “The bones are demon bones, and the soul appears to be a demon soul as well. There must be an illusion spell cast on the Lingtai—likely connected to the restriction on her back.”
Zhuoxue gasped for breath, barely able to collect her soul. After a long moment, she lifted her head with every ounce of strength spent and bared her teeth at Longming.
The bared teeth had so little force behind them they looked like a grin.
“What are you smiling at?” Longming was puzzled.
Zhuoxue felt stifled and indignant. She resolved then and there to begin cultivation tonight.
“This approach won’t work. I tried it once several years ago and thought I’d rescued the wrong person.” Lan Hui sighed softly. “On reflection, without the illusion spell, she probably wouldn’t have made it through the reincarnation gate. But in all those years, I could never find the spell’s traces. Only now do I learn it’s anchored right on the back of Zhuoxue’s neck.”
“It’s precisely because the years have worn on that the spell’s power fluctuated, alerting Emperor Tianji and allowing him to track her here.” Longming sneered. “And what a coincidence—this fox was attacked in my mountains.”
“I haven’t yet thanked the Demon Lord for saving her life.” Lan Hui bowed. “Two days ago, as a small punishment for Zhuoxue, I intended to send her to Ninghong Mountain to eat vegetarian food. I never expected she… would end up at Lingkong Mountain.”
One was Ninghong Mountain, the other Lingkong Mountain. Zhuoxue finally understood—she had misheard and assumed Lan Hui had ulterior motives.
She wondered—could her bad hearing also be because of the restriction on the back of her neck? This restriction not only disrupted her cultivation but also muddled her ears and eyes. Truly a wretched thing.
“It’s too early for thanks,” Longming said. “The Nightmare Tribe and Emperor Tianji won’t let this go.”
Lan Hui was silent for a moment. “I can’t easily show my face. If Emperor Tianji and the Nightmare Tribe attack, I’m afraid I won’t be able to protect her. I beg the Demon Lord to keep Zhuoxue here.”
Zhuoxue looked up, her fox eyes full of alarm. Others might say a lamb entering a tiger’s mouth—she was a fox entering a tiger’s mouth.
But then again—Auntie Lan was an immortal. If her immortal qi leaked because of Zhuoxue, wouldn’t she end up stranded in the Mortal Realm just like Longming all those years ago?
She was best at eating. What did a little suffering matter? Better not to make Auntie Lan suffer.
Besides…
Staying by Longming’s side was indeed safer than anywhere else. Not to mention, Lingkong Mountain was filled with fine wine and delicacies—eating meat was far more convenient than usual.
The fox tried hard to convince herself. With Lan Hui’s word, this great tiger surely wouldn’t make things difficult for her anymore.
“Keeping her is easy enough.” Longming smiled faintly. “As it happens, these days coincide with the Yellow Springs Bureau’s Ze’an Festival.”
“The Ze’an Festival—the best time to admire Soul Flowers.” Lan Hui spoke with nostalgia. “In years past, celestial beings from above would always gather in groups at the Nine Springs Bureau to admire the Soul Flowers during the Ze’an Festival.”
“But the Immortal Realm is in chaos lately, and the Heavenly Gate is under restriction.” Longming raised a brow slightly. “I doubt anyone will be admiring flowers, and it won’t be easy for me to slip in among them.”
Lan Hui frowned.
“No matter. I’ll find another way.” Longming was unconcerned.
Zhuoxue thought: getting in would be ideal. She hadn’t made it in last time and wondered what the scenery was like inside.
Longming then pulled something from her sleeve and tossed it to Lan Hui. It was small—Zhuoxue couldn’t see it clearly.
Lan Hui caught it hastily, looking at the jade bead in her hand with confusion.
“My spiritual energy is embedded in the jade. Use it to send me messages,” Longming said.
The hall door was suddenly struck. A demon said in a panic from outside, “Demon Lord, there seemed to be immortal qi just now.”
The fox sat bolt upright and instinctively held her breath.
“You’re smelling things.” Longming projected her voice outside, then looked at Lan Hui.
No matter how reluctant Lan Hui was, she couldn’t stay. She averted her gaze, not daring to look at Zhuoxue, afraid that one more glance would make her unable to leave.
After a long moment, she clenched the jade bead in her hand and sighed. “I’ll go ahead. If there’s any news, I’ll let you know.”
Longming waved a gust of wind that pushed the bronze door slightly ajar. “Please.”
In the blink of an eye, Lan Hui dissolved into white mist and drifted lightly out through the bronze door.
Zhuoxue’s heart drifted out with her. Then an unexpected poke at her lower back startled her back to her senses.
Then came a gentle pat—light, not heavy—like a mortal soothing a baby in swaddling clothes. The silver-haired demon lord suddenly lowered her head, her hair nearly enveloping the fox completely.
Zhuoxue didn’t dare breathe. Lan Hui had just left, and she had no idea what this tiger demon was going to do to her.
“Can you play the qin or dance with a sword?” Longming asked out of nowhere.
The fox hemmed and hawed. “Play the qin, no. Slingshot, yes. Dance with a sword, no. But I did secretly learn lion dancing in the Mortal Realm. Does the Great King want to see?”
After a moment, Longming said flatly, “I lost my mind for a second.”
The fox grew alert. Had Longming mistaken her for Princess Jueguang for a moment?
Countless people died that year. If she were Princess Jueguang…
If she were Princess Jueguang, she would make sure this great tiger understood the fallen blossom yearns, but the flowing stream is heartless4.
“No need to be nervous. I’ll feed you well and keep you comfortable—I certainly can’t have you wasting away.” Longming spoke slowly, her breath falling on the fuzzy fox ear. With each firm word she uttered, the fox ear twitched.
She’d better mean it. The fox kept all her thoughts bottled up inside.
“Why so quiet?” Longming sat back on the Bone Throne, one arm around the white fox. Her free hand channeled demonic energy.
The hall rumbled and groaned. Sand and gravel rolled across the collapsed sections like thousands of ants converging on their origin. The pits filled in. The cracked stone tiles returned to their original state—without a single fracture remaining.
Zhuoxue watched in astonishment. Another light pat on her lower back.
The fox finally spoke. “So you’ll feed me well and keep me comfortable—and you’re not going to string me up in midair to dry anymore?”
“As long as you don’t cause trouble.” Longming’s voice was low. “Such as rummaging and prying where you shouldn’t.”
Zhuoxue naturally didn’t dare. One look at the White Jade Lily-of-the-Valley had been enough.
“You’ll need to do well as my attendant too. Not even half a moment out of my sight,” Longming laid down the rule.
Zhuoxue grumbled inwardly. How about she just rode on her body? Then she wouldn’t have to walk, and Longming could see her at all times. Win-win.
But the fox’s eyes shifted, and what Zhuoxue said was, “That’s simple. What else?”
“Any unusual sensation in your body, you must tell me,” Longming said.
Zhuoxue was suspicious. “I have to report being thirsty or hungry? Itchy too? That’ll be endless. As a matter of fact, I have an unusual sensation right this moment.”
Her feet itched. She wanted to bolt.
“Every detail.” Longming suddenly flipped the fox in her arms onto her back. Her palm traced along the soft fur of the fox’s chest and belly, stroking downward at her leisure, and asked with unhurried composure, “Right now—are you hungry, or thirsty?”
The fox froze.
The warmth from Longming’s palm seemed to penetrate through the fur, pressing against her body without omission. Her waist and belly were stroked in their entirety—she couldn’t tell if it was tingling or tickling—yet she wanted to give herself over completely.
She imagined herself as a bolt of dyed silk, gathered and pinched and creased by nimble fingers, then soaked and softened in warm water—every inch attended to, nothing neglected, like damp red spring silk that breathed fragrance with every movement.
But she had no idea what form she should take to be that soft spring silk.
The instant Longming withdrew her palm, it struck her with a start—the fleeting mentions of ‘coupling’ in mortal storybooks.
Fortunately, Zhuoxue was in fox form at the moment. Had she been in human form, she would have been blushing furiously and running away in long strides.
Had she come of age—and was it that season too?
Oh no. She didn’t want to touch a tiger’s buttocks at all anymore. She didn’t know who else she could be intimate with.
The author has something to say:
The next chapter is going VIP! Three updates combined. Thank you for your support!
Footnotes
- Modern Chinese slang for an amateurish, poorly organized outfit; originally referred to a troupe performing on a makeshift straw stage.
- In Chinese underworld mythology, a brew administered to souls before reincarnation to erase memories of their past lives.
- In Chinese cultivation lore, the 'spiritual platform' or 'spirit altar' — the inner seat of consciousness and soul within a cultivator's mind.
- A classical Chinese poetic phrase meaning unrequited affection—one side yearns while the other remains indifferent. It originates from Tang dynasty poetry.
0 Comments