The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 36
by Little PandaSpeaking of a Fox Seated Firmly on a Tiger’s Back
With this earth-shattering commotion, the bookshelves — leaning against each other like thousands of interlocking gears — had astonishingly not collapsed.
The figures stood motionless as mountains, gazing down unharmed at the two beings below, as if capable of transforming into Yanwang’s shadow projections, chanting true scriptures.
Her ears still ringing — they say those who know the times are wise, and leaning against a great tree offers fine shade1 — the fox had wrapped her arms tight around Longming’s arm and resolved never to let go.
“But I’m already here,” Zhuoxue mumbled indistinctly.
The tower had surely been uprooted entirely. A sudden tilt sent even Longming stumbling, her body crashing into the bookshelf and sending Destiny Registers cascading to the floor.
This was no mere collapse — they were hanging upside down!
Longming’s expression darkened. She could only employ a sliver of magic, pinning herself in place like a nail driven into a wall, rock-steady and motionless.
With this inversion, the towering bookshelves could no longer hold. They crashed down like mountains collapsing, layer upon layer buckling and pressing upon each other.
Zhuoxue dangled in mid-air with a Destiny Register clamped in her mouth, the world spinning around her. Every hair on her body stood on end as she said uneasily, “Has everything flipped over? Is she trying to shake us like dice in a cup?”
In mortal marketplaces, dice-shakers devised endless tricks — with bare hands alone they could rival immortals, and those with stronger grips could even shatter the dice right inside the cup.
Yanwang possessed such divine power; her grip would only be stronger than any mortal’s.
“Is this the Destiny Register you found?” Longming looked down.
Zhuoxue only smiled without answering.
Alas, the Judge’s Token had already been returned to its place, and the ghost fire had been extinguished. They had no time now to sit and examine it closely.
Longming took the Destiny Register from the fox’s mouth and tucked it into a fist-sized brocade pouch, frowning. “She already knows where we are. That’s why she uprooted the tower — catching turtles in a jar2, treating us like trapped prey.”
Truly uprooted from the roots?
That towering, majestic edifice — what brute force must one wield to lift it wholesale?
Zhuoxue’s heart leaped in terror as a thunderclap rang in her ears.
Not thunder — the tower walls, hard as bronze and iron, had been struck until cracks splintered across them.
Fortunately, even in the pitch-black tower, she could still see the general outline. The cracks crawled like spider webs, and broken bricks bulged inward.
The thunderous force from outside only grew stronger. Judging by the fracture patterns, she couldn’t tell whether weapon or spell had caused them.
What weapon could be as massive as a mountain gate? But if it were a spell, why would it need such crude smashing?
The wall was about to burst open. Zhuoxue hung steady and still, certain that Longming must have a way to escape.
Another deafening crash — shattered stone and powder sprayed inward as yin wind came howling through.
The underworld was cold and dim. Not a single ray of light spilled through the breach — she could only vaguely see something forcing its way in on the wind.
It was shaped like a person, translucent and gleaming like crystal, yet not brittle like crystal — it even carried the soft, fine texture of flesh and skin, like the wandering ghosts of the Wangchuan River.
Zhuoxue dared not move. Her four paws had gone stiff and cold. She could only clench her jaw tight, not wanting her racing heart to leap out of her throat.
A voice reached her from right beside her ear — Longming, transmitting sound directly.
“Yanwang’s true form.”
Yanwang’s true form was unexpectedly identical to a soul. Considering the imposing stature of her humanoid form, her true body must be even more colossal.
When Zhuoxue looked closer, she realized that what had burrowed through the hole in the tower was unmistakably a single finger, ceaselessly churning about.
Just as mortals poke at ant nests, Yanwang treated this place like paper-thin eggshell.
Who could have imagined that even a single finger was as thick as a thousand-year-old locust tree? She dared not contemplate how towering Yanwang’s entire true form must be.
That would be a being whose head propped up the heavens and whose feet trampled the earth — one slight bend of the knee could grind them to dust.
Zhuoxue could no longer steady her racing thoughts. She whispered, “What about all your myriad abilities? Can’t you soar the heavens and dive the earth, summon wind and call rain?”
Longming remained methodical and unhurried. “It’s inadvisable to engage her head-on. I cannot yet let Tianji and the Nightmare Tribe discover that I was the one who infiltrated Yanwang’s Office to steal the Destiny Register.”
“Sooner or later, they’ll notice a Destiny Register is missing.” Zhuoxue climbed up along that arm and curled onto Longming’s shoulder and neck, finally freed from dangling in mid-air.
“No one will discover it.”
As she spoke, Longming’s visage transformed abruptly. This time she did not disguise herself as an immortal, but shifted into a green-faced, fanged Shura.
Fortunately, the Water Spirit still resided within her body. Her features brimmed with ghostly qi, as if she truly had crawled out of the eighteenth level of hell3.
She turned her palm and conjured a cluster of fire, mercilessly slapping it toward the distance.
Flames licked up the bookshelves, reducing the Destiny Registers to flying ash. The remnants piled together, making it impossible to tell which register had been which.
This way, how could Yanwang discern why the intruder had come?
The inferno raged, climbing and leaping like vines, transforming this place into a purgatory. As far as the eye could see, everything was crimson.
Black smoke billowed upward. The flames lunged toward Yanwang’s crystal-like hand, but her body was not made of wood — this fire could not scorch her.
Amidst the sea of fire, only Yanwang’s desk and seat remained entirely unscathed. Even the records on the desk were protected without a single spark touching them.
Longming struck out with a palm, shattering the opposite tower wall, and burst out from the volcanic inferno.
Yanwang’s body was like a hundred-zhang peak. The tower held in her grip was less than a handful to her, and the Shura flying out from within was more insignificant than a gnat.
Firelight spread from inside the tower outward, turning it into glowing copper and iron. Yanwang held it in her hand like a lantern carried on a night walk.
Yanwang was incensed beyond measure. She exhaled and extinguished the great fire. The entire tower collapsed with a thunderous crash — Yanwang’s Office was destroyed in an instant.
A horrifying pressure swept outward, leaving nothing alive wherever it reached.
Even the ghosts a hundred li away were struck by the pressure, wailing in unison with earth-shattering cries.
The murderous Shura remained unmoved. The half of her ghostly face visible from the side was as composed as ever. Fire cloaked her entire body, and the flames conveniently obscured the white fox on her shoulder.
Black smoke clouded Zhuoxue’s vision, blurring everything in the distance. Fortunately, this smoke that stung her nose and face was not real, so it didn’t choke her.
Yanwang’s colossal body collapsed like a great mansion crumbling, then fragmented like an ant colony dispersing, instantly splitting into countless copies of herself, each figure identical.
In the next moment, uncountable Yanwang clones wove together into a copper cage, trapping the Shura within. Overwhelming ghostly qi condensed into innumerable pouring blade-daggers.
The Shura had almost nowhere to hide. She twisted and dove underground, heading toward the Wangchuan River.
The blade-daggers hung inverted and rained down, sending shattered stone spraying, yet failed to pin the intruder.
Yanwang’s clones then turned their palms in unison, their postures and expressions perfectly aligned, like reflections in a mirror.
The entire Yellow Springs Bureau swayed violently. This time the world truly spun upside down — the high walls and ghost dwellings were all flung into the sky, while the black fog that had filled the heavens inverted beneath their feet.
Mud and dust rose to the heavens, becoming a deluge of collapsing rainclouds, tumbling downward. Various objects buried in the earth came pouring down along with them.
Nothing could remain hidden — even those ancient relics on the verge of dissolving were forced into visibility at this moment.
The Wangchuan River hung suspended overhead, a celestial river in the sky, closely following the mud and dust as it poured without reservation into the “mortal realm” beneath.
The Shura in the mud had nowhere to hide. Forced to reveal herself, she calmly turned her wrist, sending the falling blade-daggers rising back up.
With a sharp whistle, the blade-daggers pierced through the air, converging into a single shriek.
Longming saw through Yanwang’s main body at a glance and shattered all the innumerable shadow projections.
It was like borrowing arrows with thatched boats4 — she used not a thread of demonic power, eliminating any concern about her disguise being recognized.
The mud and dust fell bit by bit, but the Wangchuan’s waters were linked drop to drop, forming a drenched curtain. As it cascaded down, the layers stacked and merged, quickly gathering back into a flowing river.
The Shura leaped into the Wangchuan. The moment she plunged beneath the water, the green face and fangs faded away, reverting to her beautiful features.
Still shaken, Zhuoxue stood up on Longming’s shoulder and neck, gazing behind them. “Yanwang’s Office is just gone? And the Yellow Springs Bureau has become like this?”
“No need to pity Yanwang.” Longming swam forward like a fish, following their original path, not daring to delay a single breath. “Yanwang’s Office and the Yellow Springs Bureau can be restored in the blink of an eye. Otherwise, if she destroyed the city yet failed to capture us, the loss would outweigh the gain.”
“All the Destiny Registers were burned — will mortal destinies be disrupted?” Zhuoxue asked again.
Longming’s expression turned peculiar as she lowered her gaze to glance at the fox on her shoulder, speaking mildly: “Mortal destinies will not change simply because the registers are destroyed. The Destiny Registers merely record their life events. If it were so easy to add or subtract years from a mortal’s lifespan, why would Yanwang need to bow to Kunlun Jade Capital’s authority?”
Zhuoxue thought that made sense.
Longming continued, “Every brick and tile of Yanwang’s Office is formed from Yanwang’s divine power and can be restored in an instant. But to recreate all the Destiny Registers as they were — that is beyond recovery. The fire I used was no ordinary flame.”
“What fire?” Zhuoxue asked.
“Qilin Heartfire5.” Longming smiled faintly. “Also obtained from the Huangliang Dream Market. This fire originated from Kunlun Jade Capital — and so it has been returned to Kunlun Jade Capital in the end.”
The Wangchuan River suddenly heaved up towering waves, as if a hurricane had struck, threatening to flip the entire river upside down.
The once-silent Wangchuan instantly surged like a sea, wave peaks and troughs rising and falling. Mud and silt churned up from the riverbed, turning the once-clear river as turbid as a mountain flood.
Zhuoxue was still watching closely behind Longming. Amidst the fierce wind and towering waves, the Wangchuan was forcibly cleaved into a rift.
Of course — the waters of the Wangchuan could not be easily scooped up, but they could indeed be split.
Zhuoxue exclaimed, “Swim faster! She can even cleave the great waves apart!”
Longming moved like a shooting star, flashing ten li away in a flash of lightning, and finally caught sight of the bronze door they had entered through.
Yanwang must have sensed something. She conjured a massive bell out of thin air. At this moment, with the Wangchuan split by a single blade stroke, a corner of the bronze bell was faintly visible between the two churning walls of water.
A single bell toll resounded across the heavens — such was the deafening volume.
Immediately, the Water Spirits on the bronze door swarmed toward Zhuoxue’s face like thousands of mayflies.
She hastily turned her head to dodge, using her tail like a broom to sweep all the Water Spirits away.
The half of a Water Spirit that had dissolved inside her body also sensed the call. It had been docile and obedient, but in this instant, not only did it reconstitute into its original form — it seemed to boil with rage, ramming against her stomach until it cramped.
Zhuoxue arched her back, about to vomit, but before she could, Longming clamped her snout shut. She had no choice but to swallow the Water Spirit back down as it surged up her throat.
The Water Spirit kept surging upward while she kept swallowing it back down, over and over, tears streaming down her face.
How could Zhuoxue dare open her mouth to speak? She relied entirely on this Water Spirit to move freely through the Wangchuan — discarding it would be throwing her life away.
Longming, however, was largely unaffected. Through sheer pressure and the spiritual power within her body, she could suppress her half of the Water Spirit.
Zhuoxue was miserable. One moment she was forced to puff out her left cheek, the next her right — all because the Water Spirit kept seeking an exit, making her cheeks go numb.
She could only curl her tongue and thrash about, fighting the Water Spirit for dear life — it was a contest to see which of them would tire first.
Unfortunately, the Water Spirit knew no fatigue. The fox’s tongue root and tip had both gone immobile, while the spirit kept battering about.
Fortunately, this Water Spirit knew its way. Stubborn and persistent, it sought the same exit it had entered through, only pushing upward instead of burrowing holes below.
The fox made muffled sounds, her eyes rolling about nimbly —
Why aren’t you suffering?
Longming didn’t understand, so she simply cast a spell through the fox’s snout. Her fingertip moved slowly, guiding the wriggling Water Spirit back down to the fox’s lower belly.
The Water Spirit tried to surge up again, but was abruptly seized by icy demonic power and could only shiver in place, staying put.
Relief. Zhuoxue let out a soft sigh. Her tongue was numb now, and she couldn’t speak clearly, mumbling, “I thought once it dissolved, it couldn’t reconstitute. Turns out it was a trick — trying to make me lower my guard.”
Longming slipped through the gap in the door, saying coldly, “Without Yanwang’s command, it wouldn’t have reconstituted either. This Water Spirit can’t be kept. Once we’re out of the Wangchuan, we’ll spit it out.”
“Not even bringing it back to Lingkong Mountain?” Zhuoxue felt a twinge of regret.
“We are not a thousand-year locust tree — we can’t conceal the Water Spirit’s scent. With it on us, Yanwang could easily track us down.” Longming struck a fierce palm behind her, sending turbid waves rolling and howling.
The massive wave Longming had raised happened to block the rift Yanwang had cleaved, and the rushing turbid water concealed their figures.
When Zhuoxue looked behind again, she could see nothing.
Passing through the Winding Place, Longming also dragged those struggling, wailing ghosts down into the water. Each vengeful ghost had already endured the Wangchuan’s soul-rending torment — now fully immersed in the Wangchuan, their pain was unbearable, and their shrieks pierced the clouds and split stones.
There were so many ghosts that, had they turned to stone, they could have dammed the Wangchuan entirely.
Yet Yanwang was forbidden from using private punishment to harm the ghosts. With Longming using them as a barricade, Yanwang had no choice but to halt, giving the two demons a chance to escape.
It took the strength of nine bulls and two tigers6 before Longming finally dragged Zhuoxue onto the riverbank. The water clinging to her clothes flowed back into the river, leaving her completely dry.
The fox was also as dry as before — she didn’t even need to shake off any water droplets.
Longming parted her thin lips and spat the half Water Spirit into her palm. It was already wilted and withered, its face blurred into an indistinguishable mass.
Evidently it had dissolved too thoroughly — now that it was reconstituting, it couldn’t regain its previous face.
The fox also lowered her head and spat out the other half of the Water Spirit. It landed on the ground, apparently still dizzy from all the battering, and stumbled its way back into the water.
Longming casually tossed the Water Spirit in her palm into the Wangchuan as well, then scooped up the fox’s belly and lifted her onto her shoulder.
Zhuoxue nearly gagged again, thinking: Great Tiger, you’ve had your fun now, treating me so carelessly.
“Let’s go. This underworld is full of her eyes and ears.” Longming’s form shifted abruptly.
Beneath the fox, where had the tall, slender demon lord gone? In her place was unmistakably a great tiger with glaring eyes, colored in black and white.
The tiger’s body was like her ink-wash robes — gleaming with luster, no less brilliant than silk.
Her body was powerfully built, her stride incomparably steady, as if each step could make the earth tremble and mountains collapse.
The white tiger leaped up, and the two slightly raised spots on her back suddenly unfurled into a pair of wings. She rose on the wind, swift as lightning.
The fox pressed herself flat against the tiger’s back, her heart racing. This was her first time riding on a tiger’s back — come to think of it, rather thrilling.
A princess seated on a tiger’s back could already be considered lowering herself — but the fox wasn’t about to stand on ceremony.
Footnotes
- Those who know the times are wise, and leaning against a great tree offers fine shade (识时务者为俊杰，背靠大树好乘凉): Two Chinese idioms Zhuoxue quotes to justify clinging to Longming — the first praising adaptability, the second praising powerful backing.
- Catching a turtle in a jar (瓮中捉鳖): A Chinese idiom meaning to trap someone where escape is impossible.
- Eighteenth level of hell (十八层地狱): The deepest level of the Chinese Buddhist underworld, reserved for the most grievous sinners.
- Borrowing arrows with thatched boats (草船借箭): A famous Three Kingdoms stratagem where Zhuge Liang obtained enemy arrows by sending straw-covered boats into fog, here meaning to turn an enemy's attack back against them.
- Qilin Heartfire (麒麟心火): A celestial flame originating from Kunlun Jade Capital that cannot be extinguished or restored by Yanwang's divine powers.
- Strength of nine bulls and two tigers (九牛二虎之力): A Chinese idiom denoting tremendous, herculean effort.
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