The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 55
by Little PandaSpeaking of the Two Demons Splitting a Mountain to Excavate a Spiritual Herb
The fragrance seeped up from beneath the snow, carrying a ghostly chill—seemingly out of reach, gone in a flash.
Walking through this frozen wasteland already demanded endurance against a cold that pierced to the bone. Catching this scent only added another degree of chill.
The white tiger buried her head and searched, but found nothing. No matter how formidable her spiritual cultivation, she couldn’t match the fox’s effortless sniff.
Zhuoxue’s brows and lashes were frosted with snow, ice flowers blooming in her silver hair, erasing what little dark ink-color remained in her tresses.
Shielded by Longming’s spiritual energy, she didn’t bother lifting a hand to wipe herself—terrified of misreading the scent, she’d bury right back into the snow to identify it anew.
Such a faint fragrance.
It was like a single orchid hidden deep in a bamboo grove, smelling of ice-water and cold, the chill seeping into her lungs.
This was no mere scent—it was a sledgehammer, ready to chisel out the secrets of the Three Realms from a century ago, buried beneath the ice.
It was also a blade aimed straight at Emperor Tianji and the Nightmare Tribe. How many mortals had died in plagues because of them?
Zhuoxue straightened up and exhaled a long breath, delight spreading across her face, her eyebrows dancing. “It really is!”
With that, she pressed close to the tiger’s back and rubbed every bit of snow from her face and hair onto the white tiger.
A sudden chill hit the white tiger’s back. She shot her a sidelong glance. “You’re turning red from the cold.”
Zhuoxue hastily gathered her fox tail in front of her for warmth. Her fighting spirit was blazing now—she couldn’t be bothered with such things. “On to the next spot, quick.”
“Rest a bit,” Longming said instead.
Zhuoxue looked back suspiciously. “You’re not the least bit anxious?”
“No rushing it.” The white tiger paced slowly. “Waiting half a ke before walking won’t matter. Get on my back.”
Her tone was cool and detached, yet those crimson eyes stared straight at her, the concern beneath barely visible.
“You said it yourself.” Zhuoxue climbed back onto the tiger’s back, but instead of sitting properly, she propped her frozen feet against the back of the white tiger’s neck.
Longming flinched from the cold for the first time.
How was this any different from the mountain’s ice and snow? The only difference was that these feet were living things that might warm up, whereas ice and snow would just melt.
“You…” Longming started to retort, then stopped.
Zhuoxue breathed out a plume of cold air, thoroughly amused. “You never said I couldn’t sit like this.”
The fox was awfully pleased with herself—pleased right up on top of the white tiger’s head, no less.
The white tiger said nothing, and it was impossible to tell whether she was sulking.
Zhuoxue leaned forward and tugged on a tiger ear. “Are you really mad?”
“As long as you’re happy.” Longming’s reply was noncommittal. Then she suddenly shook her whole body, shaking off the snow.
Zhuoxue hadn’t been sitting securely. She fell flat on her back, staring up at the sky, thinking that this big white tiger had done it on purpose!
If this were her past life as Jueguang, the big white tiger would have swallowed her anger and treated her with the utmost courtesy and deference.
But the Jueguang that Hanxing had seen was only a fragment, and the Hanxing in Jueguang’s eyes was far from all that Hanxing was.
Zhuoxue planted her frozen feet on the back of the white tiger’s neck again, and before the tiger could get mad a second time, she bounded away like a fugitive.
Fortunately, the fragrance beneath the snow didn’t dissipate. She pressed forward step by step, the white tiger following in silent stride.
Heavy snow swirled. The two figures in the mountains were like a single scale in the vast ocean1—fortunately, not walking alone.
Zhuoxue was determined to find the spiritual herb’s root to break through her cultivation realm, yet it wasn’t only for the breakthrough.
She had originally acted just to preserve her life, but now it was as if she could see, through this cold ice and snow, the suffering of countless mortals from a century ago.
In her past life she had crusaded for the common people; in this life she lived freely and joyfully, yet she could not turn her back on the world.
She was Zhuoxue, and yet not only Zhuoxue.
She was worlds apart from her past life, but the softest place in her heart had never truly changed.
“Need to rest again?” Longming asked.
Gray snow rose past her waist. Zhuoxue felt as though she were wading through a dark sea, carefully identifying the fragrance as she went. She answered slowly, “I won’t, lest you shake me off again.”
“Didn’t you leap off yourself?” Longming scoffed softly.
“You started it.” Zhuoxue was indignant.
“Me?” Longming was unconvinced.
Zhuoxue snorted, bent down, scooped up a handful of snow, and hurled it at the white tiger’s face without mercy—catching her completely off guard.
Smack.
Longming fell silent for a moment, not moving an inch. With that tiger-headed look, she seemed almost frozen in place.
The more imposing she was on ordinary days, the more sluggish her reaction at this moment.
Zhuoxue had just started to smile when a spray of gray snow engulfed her head—the white tiger had exhaled forcefully, sending snow flying everywhere.
“Convinced?” Longming asked.
Zhuoxue brushed the frost from her hair, not daring to provoke Longming further. She muttered sullenly, “Not convinced—”
A pause, then she added two words: “Can’t be.”
Not convinced, can’t be.
Buzhou Mountain was boundlessly vast; this was only one face of it. To cross the snow sea and reach the spiritual herb, who knew how much more effort it would take.
Without spiritual power to aid her, Zhuoxue struggled with every step. Fortunately, she hadn’t lost the direction—the further she went, the richer the hidden fragrance in the snow became.
She was getting closer, but there was still distance to cover. As long as the fragrance hadn’t turned to burnt sandalwood, she was still far away.
Though sheltered by a great demon, Zhuoxue was still frozen red all over. Fortunately, everywhere they passed was bathed in Auspicious Radiance.
With the Auspicious Radiance upon her, her spirit felt clear and refreshed, easing some of her fatigue.
She tilted her head and breathed out a plume of white mist, saw the white tiger standing motionless beside her, and simply blew the mist right into the tiger’s face.
“What is it?” Longming turned to look at her.
Zhuoxue stared at the large white tiger with black markings before her. That enormous face—she couldn’t cover it with both hands combined.
Longming in tiger form looked fiercer than in human form, but seemed less sharp and alert than her human shape, that broad forehead wasted on her.
Zhuoxue felt a pang of melancholy. After swallowing the spiritual herb’s root, what came next for her remained uncertain.
A fox’s life might not be short, but one should enjoy it while it lasted.
She suddenly reached out and plucked one of the white tiger’s whiskers.
A fox dares to touch a tiger’s buttocks, a fox dares to pluck a tiger’s whiskers.2
What a sturdy white whisker—springy and tough to the touch, just like that section of Longming’s waist.
But Zhuoxue’s courage lasted only a single breath. After plucking it, she ran without stopping, stuffing the whisker into her sleeve.
She didn’t get far before she stopped, gasping for breath, her legs heavy as though weighted with thousand-jin boulders. No matter how intense the Auspicious Radiance, it couldn’t ease the strain at all.
The white tiger caught up effortlessly, asking quietly, “Why are you running?”
“Afraid you’ll hold a grudge.” Zhuoxue tucked her sleeve securely, not wanting Longming to snatch the silver whisker back.
The white tiger spun and transformed into a woman’s figure—not a single tiger hair remained on her, let alone a silver whisker. Only the black markings beneath her eyes and those crimson pupils still held a trace of the tiger.
Longming looked at her. “Why did you pluck it?”
“It’s a good thing.” Zhuoxue hedged. “If I carry this with me, who’d dare make trouble for me in the future?”
Longming paused, then said slowly, “If you want something, just say so. Other demons fear my aura—there’s plenty you could take.”
Zhuoxue reached out her hand to claim it.
“Not yet.” Longming looked away.
Zhuoxue thought it strange—what could be so mysterious that it had to be given at the right time?
Buzhou Mountain had dawn and dusk but no dark night. Even when it was the dead of night in the mortal realm, the sky here remained bright as day.
The two demons circled from the north face of the mountain to the south, walking from the base to the mountainside. The Auspicious Radiance grew ever more dazzling, and the bitter wind grew fiercer with it—raging snow and howling wind3—every step a struggle.
Drifting white snow turned gray-black the instant it touched the mountain. The demonic and ghostly qi was so thick that the Auspicious Radiance couldn’t cleanse it at once.
Fortunately, the fragrance was stronger than before. The spiritual herb was nearby.
Zhuoxue’s Lingtai was linked to her soul. As her soul was bathed and cleansed by the Auspicious Radiance, her Lingtai was inevitably affected—the dormant demonic core suddenly began to tremble ceaselessly.
Zhuoxue touched the back of her neck and found it still ice-cold. The restriction there should still be firmly suppressed. She let out a small breath of relief.
“Your demonic core is acting up?” Longming frowned.
Zhuoxue lowered her hand. “It’s trembling.”
“It must be the Auspicious Radiance.” Longming’s eyes darkened. “I’ve wondered what your demonic core would look like once the restriction lifts—whether it’d be fathomlessly dark or crystal-bright.”
Zhuoxue had never thought about it. She was the type to cross bridges when she came to them; future matters would be discussed in the future.
She curved her eyes carelessly. “Whether it’s murky or clear, it’s still my demonic core, isn’t it?”
Longming scooped up a handful of snow and said evenly, “The fragrance is strong now—I can already catch a general sense of it. No need to bury my head in the snow anymore.”
Zhuoxue nodded. Her frozen toes curled slightly, her legs as white as icicles, completely drained of color.
Longming pressed forward through the wind and snow. She wasn’t cold, but she was no better off than Zhuoxue.
The Auspicious Radiance was, to her, a blade at the brow. Walking through Buzhou Mountain, every step felt like self-destruction. Her soul had twisted into hemp rope—her flesh felt no pain, but her soul felt carved and wrenched.
After roughly another two shichen, the burnt-sandalwood scent flickered in and out.
Tracking by scent was ultimately too difficult, especially with the mountain winds gusting—one blast would blow the fragrance sideways, and only when the wind died for a moment did they realize they’d gone the wrong way.
Drawing closer, the fragrance became acrid. The smell, at first whiff, was like something drifting out of a fire—choking until one’s breath stopped.
Zhuoxue wrapped her arms tight, her heart hammering without cease, pounding her chest numb, scattering her thoughts.
“It’s just ahead.” She inhaled softly. What seeped into her lungs wasn’t just burnt sandalwood but also cold.
Longming tracked it step by step, stopping where the scent was most concentrated, and gazed down at her feet. “Do you know why other demons, knowing full well that the spiritual herb’s root holds boundless spiritual power, don’t come flocking to seek it?”
Zhuoxue shook her head. “The root is hard to take. You already said that.”
“But I didn’t say it was difficult as ascending to heaven4.” Longming said.
Zhuoxue bent down, about to scrape away the gray snow, when she sensed Longming’s spiritual energy swirling at her side, diverting the flying snow elsewhere.
A large section of snow on the mountainside was now missing—the snow above would inevitably come crashing down.
A roar erupted at once, like a beast’s howl.
Zhuoxue heard it and raised an arm to shield her face, calling out, “The snow’s coming down!”
Longming turned her palm, and an invisible barrier propped open at the gap, blocking all the cascading gray snow.
Snow sprayed everywhere, like dust and smoke flooding in—a vast expanse of gray, as though plunging into a deep sea.
Buzhou Mountain propped up heaven and earth. Snow that had accumulated for hundreds upon thousands of years poured down like a torrent, ceaseless.
Zhuoxue lowered her arm, still shaken. But beyond the barrier, the gray snow continued to fall without end. The Auspicious Radiance was blocked by the falling snow, leaving only darkness before her eyes.
She crouched down and dug at the frozen earth with her hands. The acrid fragrance made her cough uncontrollably.
This was no fragrance anymore—it was a stench that filled the sky, stinging her eyes.
“Let me.” Longming stepped in.
Zhuoxue’s eyes and nose burned. She lost her footing and fell backward, quickly pressing her arm over her nose again.
It was no use. The smell permeated everything, as if trying to pickle her through and through.
Another surge of spiritual energy struck forward, splitting the frozen earth, spraying mud and dust.
Buzhou Mountain cracked open a fissure, and the scent grew even stronger.
Zhuoxue was coughing so hard tears streamed down, the droplets freezing on her lashes in an instant, making it hard to blink.
Longming summoned countless fireflies from thin air. They flew into the mountain fissure, lighting it up like a corridor of countless lanterns.
The narrow fissure wound and twisted. Fireflies clung to the walls, their glow spreading slowly deeper.
Zhuoxue leaned in to look and realized the spiritual herb’s root was buried ten zhang below. So slender—it was thinner than sewing thread.
Thousands of strands woven together, like a mutated spider, or a ball of yarn.
“That’s the spiritual herb’s root?” Zhuoxue squinted, trying to see more clearly.
“The roots are slender, but not fragile.” Longming stared into the depths. “They’re harder than copper and iron. Tens of thousands of barbed hooks are anchored into the rock and soil.”
“If I can get even one strand, that’s enough?” Zhuoxue’s eyes blazed.
Longming raised her arm, her palms pressed together, then drew them apart like opening a door.
The mountain fissure was wrenched open by spiritual energy, slowly widening.
Another quake shook the mountain. The barrier couldn’t block the thunderous roar of the avalanche.
Zhuoxue hastily covered both ears, but Buzhou Mountain’s violent tremors forced her to drop one hand and grip the earth to keep from falling into the fissure.
Longming said calmly, “It’s extremely difficult to sever. Right now it’s ravenous—if you try to grab it barehanded, you’ll become nourishment for its bloom, all your spiritual power drained dry.”
No wonder so few demons came seeking treasure on the mountain, with roots like these.
“Isn’t that just like my demonic core?” Zhuoxue said in surprise.
If she were the one to break off the root, she wondered whether her demonic core or this spiritual medicine’s root would prove stronger.
The mortal realm often said that fortune is sought in danger5. If she didn’t go investigate, how would she know whether the root could be taken or not?
The fissure widened more and more, enough to fit a person.
This was Buzhou Mountain they’d pried open. Longming’s remaining strength was running low. She had to stop here, then turned to look at Zhuoxue. “I’ll go down and try. Wait here for me.”
Before Zhuoxue could say a word, the great demon beside her had already descended alone.
A three-chi sword appeared in Longming’s hand, its tip dragging against the mountain wall as she slid down, cleaving through like a wave parting, scraping out a gleaming cold light.
The fissure could accommodate a person, but not enough to swing a sword freely. Longming’s sword hand knocked and scraped against the walls, yet every flash of cold steel landed squarely on the spiritual herb’s roots.
A hundred strikes passed. The roots remained completely unscathed.
Zhuoxue was stunned. She called out, “Come back up—”
The sword-wielding great demon paused at the sound, tilting her head up, panting lightly as she looked at her.
Zhuoxue didn’t explain—just shouted, “Just come up first!”
The silver-haired great demon shot out of the fissure, accidentally slicing a few of her own hairs in the process—the strands at her cheek noticeably shorter.
“I want to send a message to Auntie Lan.” Zhuoxue’s words came out of nowhere.
Longming was used to the fox’s sudden inspirations, assuming she’d just thought of Sacred Immortal Lan Xiang on a whim, and produced the jade bead from the silk pouch.
She drew blue smoke from the bead; the smoke suddenly bloomed in midair, enveloping her and the fox within.
“Say whatever you want to tell her.” Longming said.
Zhuoxue reached up and stirred the blue smoke. The wisps rippled faintly.
After a while, she seemed to grow listless and unhappy, glancing sidelong at Longming. “You say it.”
Longming was silent for a long moment, then said simply, “Destiny Register obtained. Unfortunately, the Market Master was attacked and we failed to get the Tearful Eye’s tear. The good news is the restriction is near its breach.”
The blue smoke suddenly condensed and swam into the jade bead like a fish.
Zhuoxue stared at Longming for a moment, then said with absolute certainty, “You can’t take that root. It’ll have to be me.”
In that flash of lightning, Longming’s pupils contracted. She watched, helpless, as Zhuoxue leaped into the mountain fissure.
Footnotes
- 沧海一鳞 | canghai yilin | Literally 'a single scale in the vast ocean' — a classical Chinese idiom describing tiny, insignificant specks within an immense expanse, evoking the cosmic smallness of two demons against Buzhou Mountain's boundless snow.
- 老虎屁股狐敢摸，老虎胡子狐拔得 | laohu pigu hu gan mo, laohu huzi hu ba de | A playful inversion of the common Chinese idiom 老虎屁股摸不得 ('a tiger's buttocks cannot be touched'), meaning someone is too powerful or sensitive to provoke. Zhuoxue reworks it to boast that a fox dares to touch a tiger's buttocks and pluck its whiskers, flaunting her audacity against Longming.
- 雪虐风饕 | xue nüe feng tao | A literary four-character idiom meaning 'raging snow and howling wind,' depicting a savage, merciless blizzard; from classical Chinese poetry describing extreme winter storms.
- 难如登天 | nan ru deng tian | Common Chinese idiom meaning 'as difficult as ascending to heaven,' denoting a task that is nearly impossible; used here by Longming to emphasize the extreme difficulty of severing the Blazing Heart Orchid's iron-hard roots.
- 富贵险中求 | fugui xian zhong qiu | A Chinese proverb meaning 'fortune is sought in danger,' holding that great reward requires braving immense peril; Zhuoxue invokes it as her rationale before leaping into the mountain fissure to seize the orchid's root herself.
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