The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 30
by Little PandaSpeaking of Two Demons Secretly Infiltrating the Yellow Springs Bureau
The demons had all departed, and Lingkong Mountain was quiet in all directions.
Now that there were no other demons clamoring in her ears, only Zhuoxue herself knew whether she truly could not hear or was merely pretending.
Zhuoxue sat firmly as a mountain, even wrapping her arms around the trunk. Even if someone kindly tried to persuade her now, she swore she would not come down from the tree.
She peeked at Longming with a grin, her feet swaying idly, every word of it written across her radiant brow and sparkling eyes—
Beg me.
Longming watched the fox perched in the tree, looking thoroughly pleased with herself, with no idea how she could be so smug.
“Truly cannot hear?” she said slowly. “Or have you been neglecting your cultivation?”
That was slander!
Zhuoxue glared. She had not been neglecting her cultivation these past two days.
But she certainly would not shoot herself in the foot, so she merely feigned nonchalance, lightly pinching her earlobe and turning her head aside. “I have not eaten, that is all. No wonder I speak so feebly.”
Her words were barbed, and Longming heard it at once—this fox had swallowed a firecracker, and she had been the one to light it.
With no other choice, she softened her tone. “Come down. I would not want you hurt by mistake later.”
It was because the Yellow Springs Bureau must be visited, but they could not go empty-handed.
Zhuoxue hugged the trunk even tighter, saying, “I have grown together with this tree.”
Longming looked up at her. “There are so many trees on Lingkong Mountain. Why did you have to pick this one?”
Zhuoxue patted the old tree, looking as though tree and fox were the best of friends. “This one is the tallest. I sit high and see far.”
“Truly not coming down?” Longming asked her one last time.
Zhuoxue would not.
So Longming waved a hand, and black smoke appeared from thin air beside her.
The smoke coalesced into a human shape—a live leopard materialized before their eyes.
Chunxi truly came and went without a trace. No one knew where she hid on ordinary days, yet she managed to appear at every summons without complaint.
Zhuoxue grumbled inwardly. What now? Did this great tiger want to recruit reinforcements to teach her a lesson? What an abuse of authority.
“What are your orders, Master?” Chunxi bowed.
Zhuoxue looked at Longming suspiciously.
Longming turned, her silver hair and robes sweeping up in a cold, unyielding arc, and the words she spoke were equally unyielding.
“Cut down this tree,” Longming said evenly.
Zhuoxue had been lounging as though she had no bones in her waist. At those words, she sat bolt upright in shock. “Cut down the tree? Whatever for?”
In the past, she had not even pitied the chickens at the foot of the mountain, much less flowers, grass, and trees.
But at this moment, she and the ancient tree beneath her were heart to heart. Longming was not cutting down a tree—she was cutting down her.
“Yes.” Chunxi did not even confirm a second time. Expressionless, she whipped out two curved blades, their edges gleaming with cold sharpness.
It was true that servants followed their master’s lead, and a subordinate should never go against what the master wished to do.
But it had to be said—since master and servant entered through the same door, they were bound to be of the same ilk.
Zhuoxue thought to herself that the morals of the world were truly declining, and silently added another mark against this leopard demon.
“Cut it,” Longming repeated.
“Spare the tree from the blade!” Zhuoxue shouted “spare the tree” with her mouth, but in her heart she was screaming to spare the fox.
She immediately fluttered down from the tree, her silhouette like jade dust from the heavens—a sweep of pure white.
Her hair drifted behind her, seemingly with even more white in it now—exactly the opposite of Longming.
Longming was white jade with a blemish; she was dark ink touched by frost, a few wisps of silver already visible.
Chunxi was heartless and unmoved. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face at the sound—but fortunately, she had not yet struck.
“In a few years, this tree might become a spirit. Sparing it surpasses building a peerless pagoda1.” Zhuoxue glanced fearfully at the cold gleam on the blades. Half of what she said was what Lan Hui had previously scolded her with, and half she had learned from the mortal realm.
She had previously chided Longming for parroting others2, yet now she herself had plucked a few phrases from Lan Hui.
But the fox felt not a shred of shame. She appointed herself the magistrate3, secretly drawing borders around her tree and forbidding the white tiger from lighting lanterns.
“What use is a pagoda? I do not believe in those things up in the heavens,” Longming scoffed lightly.
Preaching about Buddhist pagodas to a demon was indeed rather unreasonable.
Zhuoxue was truly afraid of this great white tiger now. How could Longming resort to force the moment they disagreed? She was not even afraid that Zhuoxue might turn against her halfway and make common cause with the Nightmare Tribe.
Her eyes darted about, signaling—were they not going to the Yellow Springs Bureau? Were they still going or not?
But the moment she shot that glance, a sharp clatter rang out behind her. A biting cold gleam swept past the corner of her eye like a thunderbolt from a clear sky.
Zhuoxue shuddered, nearly jumping out of her skin.
Fortunately, it was not her who felt the pain.
The ancient tree under Chunxi’s twin blades fared worse than thin paper.
A tree so thick it would take several people to encircle it was split in two in an instant, slowly tearing all the way down before crashing at Zhuoxue’s feet.
Zhuoxue’s hair stood on end. She dared not look down to examine the ancient tree’s remains, nor did she dare glance at Chunxi, fearing the next blade would fall on her.
A tree split in half was still a tree. A fox split in half—now that would no longer be a fox.
Even before the blade fell, she felt as though she had already been split open, and what now wandered the living world was merely her frail soul.
“Killing… killing the chicken to warn the monkey4?” Zhuoxue’s hands and feet went cold.
After she spoke, a chill breeze brushed the back of her neck. This time, the cold was not from fear—something was genuinely drawing near her.
The fox lightly sniffed and caught an unexpected whiff of faint ghost qi.
This aura smelled exactly like the Wangchuan River water—bone-piercingly cold, carrying the reek of decay and death.
But this was Lingkong Mountain. There had been no word of any tragedy in recent days, so where could ghost qi be coming from?
Zhuoxue held her breath and stayed motionless, cold sweat already forming in her palms. Could it be those hungry ghosts from that day?
Chunxi abruptly sheathed her blades and lunged forward barehanded. Immediately, a piercing shriek struck Zhuoxue’s ears.
It was so shrill that Zhuoxue’s ears rang.
“Ancient locust trees can gather ghost qi and bridge yin and yang,” Longming said calmly. “They are most suitable for harboring a Yellow Springs water spirit5.”
It was neither demon nor ghost, nor any strange creature. That pitiful squealing came from a spirit whose consciousness was still in chaos.
All things had spirits. The Yellow Springs waters were vast and boundless, so water spirits were naturally countless. Harboring just one of them would surely go unnoticed.
Only, why was Longming hiding a Yellow Springs water spirit? This was not something belonging to an old friend that could be taken out and fondled from time to time.
If this oversight were discovered by the Yellow Springs Bureau, it would likely spark another conflict between the demon and immortal realms.
Zhuoxue could not puzzle it out, but she breathed a sigh of relief—so Longming truly did want to cut down the tree, not her.
“Then why take it now?” she asked.
“We will use it to dive along the Wangchuan River into the Yellow Springs Bureau. Without this water spirit, you and I would not last a single breath in those waters before our flesh dissolved and our bones melted.” Longming extended her palm toward Chunxi.
The translucent, glass-like water spirit slid obediently along Chunxi’s fingertips and dripped into Longming’s hand.
No larger than a red bean, it had hands and feet upon closer inspection, with faintly visible facial features and a thoroughly dazed expression.
Zhuoxue leaned in for a closer look, but before she could see it clearly, Longming closed her palm.
“I thought you refused to budge. Who knew you would still come down from the tree.” Longming placed the water spirit into a silk pouch and looked at Zhuoxue with a half-smile.
Zhuoxue grumbled inwardly. And who had frightened her into it?
She discreetly wiped her sweating palms against her silk skirt, then looked at the pitiful old tree at her feet. “When the Great King personally invites, how could one visit suffice? It must be at least two.”
“Two visits?” Longming scoffed. “I will not be accompanying you the next time.”
“Which way?” Zhuoxue gazed into the distance.
Last time, riding on Grandma Qian’s back, she could not even see the path clearly. She only remembered tunneling into the earth, soil and stone splitting apart all the way, until they reached the place where ghost qi was thickest—that was the Yellow Springs Bureau.
“Follow me.” Longming suddenly gripped Zhuoxue’s wrist, leaning close with a serious expression. “Once we reach the Yellow Springs Bureau, do not wander off. Otherwise, even ten of me might not be able to save you.”
“Ten is too many. One is enough.” Zhuoxue gave a start at the breath that brushed against her ear.
“Chunxi, scout ahead,” Longming ordered.
The words had barely left her mouth when Chunxi dissolved into black smoke again, as though her true form should be smoke rather than a leopard.
Zhuoxue lightly shook her wrist twice but could not shake off Longming’s five fingers. “Can I still get lost?” she asked in puzzlement.
Longming loosened her grip slightly. All trace of teasing vanished from her expression, replaced by a stern severity that filled every corner of her eyes and brow, making her look solemn and commanding.
“This is no game this time. Stay close to me.” She reached for the back of Zhuoxue’s neck and stroked twice over the hidden rune.
It had nothing to do with intimacy, yet it still made Zhuoxue’s fingertips tremble and her body turn soft as mud.
“You…” Longming sensed something and paused slightly, then immediately withdrew her hand to her side.
Zhuoxue flushed, not expecting herself to be so easily stirred—even though that had not been Longming’s intention at all.
She still wanted to transform back into her fox form. That way, she could dig a hole right there and bury herself completely.
The fox was mortified, but the fox would never admit it.
The fox lowered her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to suppress that strange flutter in her chest. She spoke stiffly: “The wind on Lingkong Mountain is so cold—colder than Qiufeng Ridge. It makes me shiver. It must be because I have been shedding too much fox fur lately and cannot keep warm.”
Longming lightly rubbed two fingers together, wiping away the lingering warmth, and asked steadily, “Did you remember what I just said?”
Zhuoxue thought she had gotten away with it. She lifted her chin. “Just lead the way. I want to see what kind of big shot I was in my past life, to have nearly become an immortal.”
In truth, Longming was also somewhat curious, and somewhat suspicious.
The Heavenly Dao regarded the immortal clan as the upper realm, accessible only to those with deep destiny and abundant merit. However, if any being could accumulate sufficient merit, they too could enter Kunlun Jade Capital.
After all the screening, who could have known that the human heart was fickle, and even pure white silk could become stained? Take Emperor Tianji—he had long ceased to be any kind of benevolent, detached soul.
Soaring ninety thousand li6 could reach Kunlun Jade Capital in the heavens, while tunneling a thousand zhang into the earth could reach the Winding Place of the Yellow Springs.
They passed through rustling yellow sand and walked among jagged, strange rocks, descending all the while as though bracing against a cliff face.
When they finally saw deep waters where cloud-wrapped caverns loomed and heard the howls and shrieks of ghosts echoing from the darkness, Longming finally stopped.
“This is the Yellow Springs springhead.” Longming crouched and scooped up a handful of Yellow Springs water.
The water flowed between her fingers, yet left not a single trace of moisture on her skin.
She blew lightly into her palm, scattering the residual ghost qi, then continued, “I will divide the water spirit in two. We each swallow half, and we will be able to follow the spring waters straight up and enter the Yellow Springs Bureau directly.”
Zhuoxue saw that even after scooping the water, Longming’s hand remained completely dry. Truly astonished, she tucked in her skirt and crouched down, wanting to scoop up some water to play with.
But the moment she submerged her fingers in the water, she yanked her hand back in pain—as though a thousand blades were in the water, slicing her flesh away bit by bit.
No wonder the ghosts immersed in the water always howled in agony. This water was truly not something ordinary beings could endure.
If soaked for too long, even white bones would be completely dissolved, leaving not a scrap behind.
Only…
Zhuoxue suddenly looked up in confusion. “Something this tiny can be split in two?”
Longming took the red-bean-sized water spirit from the silk pouch and simply blew on it. It split into two droplets.
The water spirit did not cry out in pain. It simply transformed into two identical miniature figures, both wearing the same dazed expression.
Zhuoxue hurriedly stood up and poked at them with her index finger, nudging the two water spirits until they wobbled every which way. She laughed, “They can actually be split like this? Then aren’t there thousands upon thousands of identical ones in the Yellow Springs?”
“Indeed.” Longming nodded. “Now eat it.”
Zhuoxue stared, dumbfounded. This thing had a nose and eyes—how was she supposed to swallow it?
Before she could convince herself, her chin was caught in a firm grip. Her lips parted instinctively, and something cold and slippery rolled into her mouth—was that not half of the water spirit?
A tiny grain, pressing against her tongue like a pebble of sand.
She quickly clamped her mouth shut, pressing the water spirit down firmly, not daring to move her lips for fear it would slip down her throat.
“Swallow it.” Longming held her cheek between two fingers. “I am not trying to harm you.”
Zhuoxue forced herself to swallow. The water spirit dissolved in an instant, and a piercing cold shot through her waist and abdomen.
She curled inward from the cold, as though she had swallowed three catties of snow. Even her breath came out frigid, as though she were no longer a living thing.
Longming released her fingers and swallowed the remaining half of the water spirit. Instantly, dark ghostly qi billowed between her brows, deathly intent on full display.
Zhuoxue stared, momentarily stunned, unable to recognize who stood before her.
Those crimson eyes grew even more sinister and malevolent, and thick ghostly aura churned around her, as though threatening the peace of the mortal world.
Fortunately, Longming’s features remained strikingly beautiful—nothing like the hideous face of an asura. But the two crescent-shaped markings beneath her eyes were still present, her demonic nature impossible to conceal. She was unmistakably half-demon, half-ghost, striding between darkness and light, attended by flying dragons and ghostly maidens.
Zhuoxue snapped back to her senses and looked frantically at the Yellow Springs water, wondering what she herself had become.
Unfortunately, the surface of the Yellow Springs water reflected no light at all. Just as she turned to ask, she was shoved in the small of her back—splash!—and fell into the water.
Zhuoxue could not swim, and she disliked getting her fur wet. Had it not been for breaking through her cultivation realm before, she would never have entered the water.
She gulped down a mouthful of Wangchuan River water and, in her panic, scrambled onto Longming with all four limbs.
Longming pulled her off, and she clung right back.
She lifted her head and pressed forward without hesitation, trying to steal a breath of living warmth from Longming. “I am drowning! Longming, I am drowning!” she mumbled incoherently.
Footnotes
- A Buddhist proverb humorously adapted by Zhuoxue: 'sparing a life surpasses building a pagoda,' modifying the original saying 'saving a life is better than building a seven-tiered pagoda' to plead for the ancient locust tree.
- A Chinese idiom meaning 'parroting others' or 'stealing others' words'—literally picking up someone else's dental remnants.
- A Chinese idiom: 'magistrates may burn down houses while commoners cannot light lanterns'—flagrant double standards where the powerful commit outrages while ordinary people are forbidden basic actions. Zhuoxue parodies this to justify her own hypocritical rules against Longming.
- A Chinese idiom: 'kill the chicken to warn the monkey'—making an example of one to intimidate others.
- A Yellow Springs water spirit (Huangquan shuiling) is a tiny, translucent humanoid spirit formed within the Yellow Springs. It can be divided into identical copies and, when swallowed, grants protection against the corrosive, flesh-dissolving waters of the Wangchuan River.
- An allusion from Zhuangzi's 'Xiao Yao You' (Carefree Wandering): 'soaring ninety thousand li into the sky,' describing the vast distance ascending to Kunlun Jade Capital in the heavens, contrasted with tunneling down to the underworld.
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