The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 6
by Little PandaSpeaking of the Fox That Sneaked into the Main Peak
“M-Married off1?!”
This was too much!
The fox had no idea her Auntie Lan harbored such ambitions—actually wanting to arrange a marriage alliance with Lingkong Mountain.
That was the Great King of the Cangqiong Mountain Realm, the former Demon Sovereign of Wugou Stream. Who would dare to forge such a connection?
The fox didn’t suspect she’d misheard. After all, in her memory, Lan Hui had brought up Lingkong Mountain more than once—she couldn’t possibly mishear it every single time.
It seemed Auntie Lan still treated her well. Others, when furious, would want to tear her apart and strip her hide. Auntie Lan was different—she’d only try to marry her off.
Thankfully, hearing Lingkong Mountain again this time, the fox was no longer as terrified as she’d been a few days ago, perhaps because she’d heard so many stories in town of the goddess saving people.
Thinking of the silver-haired great demon in that portrait, she even entertained a notion of “might as well give it a try.” If she wasn’t the type to eat people bones and all, surely she’d at least be reasonable.
The Demon Lord liked mortals, and so did she. Their tastes aligned—perhaps they might actually take a fancy to each other.
Besides…
Besides, demons rarely spoke of love. Most just paired up for dual cultivation2, making do and getting by.
“What are you still loitering here for?” Lan Hui’s voice was cold.
Zhuoxue hesitated. On reflection, she still felt that tiger demon harbored a cruel streak beneath her beauty—beautiful, to be sure, but certainly not entirely well-intentioned.
She looked up and asked softly, “Do you really want me to leave? Auntie Lan, don’t you have any fondness for me at all?”
“Tell me—what exactly should I be fond of?” Lan Hui asked.
Zhuoxue racked her brains, her heart sinking. She couldn’t even answer that herself.
“Get out.” Lan Hui closed her eyes, refusing to spare her another glance.
She wasn’t genuinely trying to send Zhuoxue away, nor did she fear Zhuoxue would actually turn and leave.
Ninghong Mountain had nothing but monks. You could search the entire mountain and not find half a chicken.
Without meat, Zhuoxue would never agree to go. Even if she did, she certainly wouldn’t last—she’d have no choice but to rein in her ways and come slinking back.
Zhuoxue still sat by Lan Hui’s knees, convinced that Lan Hui’s refusal to look at her was actually because she couldn’t bear it.
She nuzzled Lan Hui’s leg with her chin, as if still in beast form, scratching an itch, and said, “If Auntie Lan can’t bear to part with me, I just won’t go. Going or not going is all the same. But if we have things left unsaid between us, that would really hurt our feelings.”
A cold gaze turned toward her, making Zhuoxue flinch.
“You want me to make myself clear?” Lan Hui asked.
Zhuoxue muttered, “What can’t we just talk about nicely?”
“Fine,” Lan Hui said. “I’ll speak plainly with you, and you’ll listen carefully.”
The barbs in those words stung Zhuoxue into immediate regret. She shouldn’t have said what she just did.
Lan Hui said coldly, “If you ever run off again without a word, spending your days stealing chickens and doing who-knows-what, I will burn the wooden boat, fill in the gap that leads out, and from then on, the mountain’s miasma will no longer affect only mortals—demons passing through it will lose their way too.”
This was plainly turning Qiufeng Ridge into a cage.
Having experienced the vastness of the outside world, having grown accustomed to coming and going as she pleased, how could Zhuoxue accept that?
Zhuoxue stared, not dismissing these as mere angry words. After all, Lan Hui meant what she said—once she opened her mouth, she intended to follow through.
“I haven’t been stealing chickens these past few days,” Zhuoxue said, panicking.
“Then what exactly were you doing?” Lan Hui pressed.
Zhuoxue gritted her teeth and said, “That kind old Grandma Qian in town died. I went to see her off—and I went a bit far.”
“All the way to the Nine Springs Bureau?” Lan Hui’s voice turned sharp. “That place is governed by the Kunlun Jade Capital3. How did you dare!”
In the distance, a few bold little demons egged on: “Mountain Lord, look at her! She’s impossible to teach—lock her up in confinement again!”
“Confinement isn’t enough! Just block the road. None of us want to go out anyway—what out there could compare to Qiufeng Ridge!”
Lan Hui looked at the fox and said nothing more.
The girl sitting on the mud floor, not a speck of dirt on her, suddenly transformed into a white fox and bolted. Before fleeing, she’d even frantically packed her bundles.
How could she possibly not eat chicken? If she had to stay in this sunless place month after month, year after year, she’d surely be driven mad!
Staying here—she’d rather go to Lingkong Mountain.
Lan Hui watched the fox run off, still sitting motionless by the water. Weariness showed plainly on her face, along with something darker and harder to name—a dim, obscure worry.
An oriole fluttered down and landed on her shoulder, chirping, tilting its head to study her.
Lan Hui’s gaze passed through the distant gap in the rock, where she could faintly see daylight. What she was thinking of, no one knew.
The oriole hopped twice and glanced in the direction the fox had gone.
“Let her go.” Lan Hui lowered her eyes. “She can go wherever she wants. She’ll be back in a few days anyway. I… can’t control her anymore.”
The oriole chirped.
“Perhaps the outside world isn’t as dangerous as I thought.” Lan Hui shook her head. “What I’m angry about this time isn’t her constantly sneaking into the mortal realm. It’s her poor character—doing things without a thought for the consequences.”
The oriole stopped chirping.
Meanwhile, the fox had finished packing and was indeed walking away without pause, as if she hadn’t a care in the world—until she neared the edge of Qiufeng Ridge, and only then did she start looking back with every step.
She’d assumed Lan Hui would at least try to stop her a couple of times. Then she’d pretend to reluctantly stay, seize the moment to say a few sweet words, and maybe the whole thing would blow over.
But she’d already reached the edge of Qiufeng Ridge, and behind her there was only silence.
Let alone a demon’s shadow—not even a tree shadow stirred.
By now, the town below was already dim with evening lamps, while Qiufeng Ridge sat in dead silence. For a moment, the fox didn’t know whether to go or stay.
She’d been the most pampered little demon on Qiufeng Ridge since childhood. When had she ever been given such a cold shoulder? This was worse than confinement.
It felt as though a piece had been carved out of her heart. Despite it not being autumn or winter, a bitter wind whistled straight through, chilling her so deeply it tore her apart.
Go back?
Zhuoxue hesitated for a breath. She’d never been the obedient type—tell her to go north and she’d head south and smash right through the wall.
No. She wouldn’t go back.
Wasn’t it just Lingkong Mountain? She’d go. Show Lan Hui a thing or two.
Something red, maybe. Red was festive.
Only, she’d never done this marriage alliance business before, and every demon on Qiufeng Ridge was single. How was she supposed to know the proper procedure?
Did one bow first, or climb into bed first? Why didn’t the mortal storytellers ever cover this?
And if climbing into bed—then what was she supposed to do?
Her bottom…
She’d have to give it a grab first, surely.
Qiufeng Ridge was eighty li4 from Lingkong Mountain. She had to cross treacherous rapids and scramble over jagged, bristling ridges. When she finally saw the cluster of peaks—split as if by axe blows yet staggered in an elegant pattern—that was Lingkong Mountain.
Beneath Lingkong Mountain, the miasma was thick and layered, even worse than Qiufeng Ridge’s—so dense you couldn’t see your own hand in front of your face, couldn’t even tell what you were stepping on. No wonder Grandma Qian had nearly starved to death when she’d wandered in by mistake.
Zhuoxue had often heard the name Lingkong Mountain, but this was her first time actually coming.
Perhaps because the Demon Lord of the Cangqiong Mountain Realm lived on Lingkong Mountain, demons gathered here in abundance. Even the demonic aura was richer than anywhere else.
Piercing. Beguiling.
Pungent. Fragrant…
The scents mingled together, enough to make one’s heart pound with unease—though scent alone couldn’t tell her who was good or evil.
If she ran into the kind that liked to carve out and eat their own kind’s inner cores, Zhuoxue thought to herself, she probably wouldn’t be coming back.
But she’d already come all this way. Turning back now would only earn her another scolding from Lan Hui.
A demon had to aim upward. Sooner or later, she’d do something noteworthy—let Lan Hui see that she hadn’t been eating for free all these years.
The white fox, bundle on her back, darted forward without knowing what lay ahead, nearly smashing headfirst into the mountain stone.
Hitting the stone, she simply scrambled upward, all four claws gripping, teeth gritted with effort.
What was strange was that even with demons gathered here, the demonic aura shouldn’t be this overwhelming.
Even the drifting fog was saturated with it. Every blade of grass and tree nearby looked as if it were being steeped in it, marinating to the bone.
The white fox, dragging her big tail, bumped this way and that, knocking lumps all over her head.
Fortunately, though her ears were useless, her nose still served her well. Following the demonic aura, she picked her way along for a good while and finally crested the summit.
Once she’d left the fog below her feet, Zhuoxue could finally see Lingkong Mountain’s true face.
She hadn’t expected the mountain to be draped end to end in red silk, with colored lanterns hung thick in the air, like a river of stars poured upside-down across the sky. From afar, the lilting strains of string and bamboo5 music reached her ears.
So many demons—demons in every direction, from all sides.
The white fox hid behind a boulder, barely poking her head out to peer around, and figured there must be a banquet underway.
Bad timing. Was the Demon Lord of the Cangqiong Mountain Realm getting married?
Zhuoxue’s heart sank. She didn’t know if she could rush up and crash the wedding, tell the Demon Lord to hold off on the ceremony for a bit.
Demons descended from the sky—great demons hundreds of years old, followed by lesser demons who’d only just learned to take human form, each one gleeful, bearing gifts of every kind. They stepped onto the red silk and headed for the main peak.
Strangely enough, among them were even Demon Lords from other domains. Their cultivation was unfathomably deep, their bearing extraordinary—one look told you they were not to be trifled with.
Zhuoxue had never seen them in person before, though she’d heard Lan Hui mention them once. That one wreathed in black wind, half a face obscured by white bone, strings of beads around the neck—wasn’t that the Demon Lord of Jueming Ridge?
Spotting a little demon carrying tea and wine heading inside, Zhuoxue stuck out a paw and tripped it.
The little demon stumbled, flustered. “Why’d you trip me? If this tea and wine spills, you’re the one who’ll get beaten!”
Zhuoxue was still in white fox form—a soft, fluffy ball, like a cloud plucked from the sky.
“Did you get separated from your master?” The little demon looked around, unable to figure out which demon this fox had come with.
Zhuoxue said simply, “My master left in a hurry, and I got left behind before I knew it.”
The little demon scratched its head. “The Demon Lord is hosting an All-Demons Banquet. All guests who wish to enter the main peak need an invitation to pass through.”
Not a wedding after all! The fox let out a breath of relief and stammered, “Then what should I do? Dear Jiejie, help me out, won’t you?”
The little demon looked around, gritted its teeth, and set the wooden tray of tea and wine on the ground. On it lay a wooden token.
The fox dipped her head, caught the scent of wine, and read the characters carved into the token. It was an Entry-Exit Token.
The little demon whispered, “Carry it in for me, set it on the banquet table, and that’s it. But keep it safe—and hold onto the token for me. I’ll come find you for it later.”
Then that ball of fluff transformed into human form, silver bells jingling on her ankles, a pair of fox ears poking through her hair, white as snow—whiter than snow.
The little demon stared, dumbstruck.
Zhuoxue gathered up the tea and wine and smiled. “See you later, dear Jiejie.”
Footnotes
- Zhuoxue has misheard the phrase 'chu jia' (to become a monk or nun) as the near-homophone 'chu jia' (to be married off)—easily confused given her hearing impairment.
- Dual cultivation (shuang xiu) is a practice in Chinese internal alchemy where two partners cultivate spiritual or physical energy together, often carrying romantic or sexual connotations.
- The Jade Capital of Mount Kunlun, in Chinese mythology a celestial paradise and seat of divine authority in the Immortal Realm.
- A traditional Chinese unit of distance, approximately half a kilometer.
- Sizhu refers to traditional Chinese chamber music played on silk-string and bamboo-wind instruments.
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