The Great King Ordered Me to Marry – Chapter 61
by Little PandaSpeaking of the Nightmare King Aiming to See Longming
On Lingkong Mountain, the small demons had happily snuffed out the lamps — and before the wicks had even cooled, the commotion outside the mountain gate scared them clean out of their wits.
Their hearts all turned into well buckets, plunging and bobbing, unable to find a moment’s peace.
Before they could make sense of that first wave of unexplained pressure, three more came. Fortunately, the visitors were reasonably courteous — they didn’t barge in, only waited obediently outside the mountain gate.
Chunxi couldn’t gauge the three visitors’ intent. Frowning, she said, “I told them you had only just retired, my Lord, and likely had no time for guests — yet the three refused to leave, saying they would wait until you woke.”
“You didn’t invite the three inside to sit?” Longming stepped out the door.
“The three wished to wait outside the gate, so as not to enter the mountain and cause a disturbance.”
Longming turned and closed the door behind her, her gaze flicking once across the bed, and said evenly, “Did the three Demon Lords state their business?”
“They did not. They only said there was a grave matter to discuss.” Chunxi shook her head, faintly aware that her lord’s aura was different from usual.
At first she’d assumed some great demon had returned alongside Longming. Only now did she realize the two auras were so entwined as to be inseparable — and far too tender to be proper.
Deeply mortified, she hurriedly held her breath, unable in any case to imagine whom that second aura could belong to.
“This urgent, are they? They’d rather wait at the gate than pick another day.” Longming’s tone was meaningful.
“Indeed.” Chunxi nodded.
Chunxi had never been good with words — on ordinary days she said as little as she could — and now, terrified of failing to hold her breath, she hoarded the few she had like gold.
For a moment she might as well have been mute; even her gaze had gone blank.
Across the Demon Realm, Dual Cultivation was as common as daily rice; within Cangqiong Mountain Realm it was comparatively rare. And looking beyond the mountain realms, those who had never practiced it were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns.
Presumably because their own Demon Lord disdained shortcuts — holding herself to strict discipline rather than indulgence — most of the realm’s demons followed her example.
Chunxi could hardly ask. She swallowed every word down her throat and pretended she knew nothing at all.
Longming went straight to the mountain gate. From afar she spotted three figures hovering among the peaks, all three looking wilted, all three distinctly reluctant.
These three Demon Lords were formidable in strength, ranked names in the Demon Realm — undone only by their temperaments: indecisive, habitually echoing whoever had spoken last, without a shred of their own judgment.
Judging from Kunyu’s message, Longming guessed the three had been put up to this by someone else — that they’d come wearing exactly these expressions, under duress, to persuade her toward Wugou Stream.
Curious, though. What genius, of all the people they could have chosen, picked these three?
It certainly couldn’t be the Nightmare King. The Nightmare King chose his tools with cunning and would never use the indecisive.
“Open the barrier,” said Longming.
“Yes.” Chunxi unhurriedly tore open the barrier at the mountain gate.
At the breach, a watery sheen condensed, laced with threads of red light like the scorched, curling edge of a burnt page.
Yet the three Demon Lords still didn’t move, refusing to set one foot past the gate — as though Longming, not far away, were some savage thing that tore raw flesh and drank blood.
“Forgive the poor welcome.” Longming, deliberately gracious, stepped forward to meet them. “May I ask what brings the three of you here?”
At the sight of Longming, the three exchanged glances and said nothing at all.
“Speak plainly, all three of you.” Longming was in no hurry.
Chunxi withdrew to a distance, removing herself.
After a moment, the Demon Lord of Chunyang Mountain Realm took a single peony petal from the flower hairpin in her hair, breathed gently on it, and let it scatter into wisps of smoke — half dispersed, half still holding together.
“My Lord, look.” She raised an arm in invitation.
Through the smoke, a scene could dimly be glimpsed: water without mountains, mist in disarray, pavilions and lofty towers rising straight out of the water, swaying on the waves like duckweed.
Counting through all Three Realms, only Wugou Stream held such a marvel.
Wugou Stream was unchanged after a hundred years — the same covered bridges, the same waterside pavilions as ever. Longming recognized it at a glance.
Her expression shifted slightly. She hadn’t imagined that after a century, her next sight of Wugou Stream would come through the Chunyang Demon Lord’s Hairpin Flower Illusion Technique.
Every sight and object in it might have been dug straight out of her memory.
The Fuye Demon Lord gathered her nerve. “As my Lord has seen: one day ago, we joined the other Demon Lords in gathering at Wugou Stream, because heavenly lightning descended upon the world — because the Heavenly Dao, it would seem, has cause to be ashamed of Yaojing’s immortals. We wished to borrow that momentum to demand answers of them: why they trample the equality of the Three Realms and lord themselves above all; why they neither clear the demon race’s name nor return the ten thousand qing1 of land they owe the Demon Realm.”
The Fuye Demon Lord finished it all in a single breath and nearly fainted.
Every word of it was precisely what the demon race had seethed over for hundreds and thousands of years — and it was this long litany of grievances that had opened a gulf between demon and immortal wide enough to hold ten thousand mountains and ten thousand seas.
Demons saw immortals as merciless — so how would they treat kindly the mortals under immortal protection? The estrangement only deepened. Mortals, understanding little of it, hated demons to the bone.
The Chunyang Demon Lord hastened to add, “My Lord, look again.”
In the drifting smoke appeared many familiar figures. Just as the Fuye Demon Lord had said, the Demon Lords of every mountain realm had already gathered once at Wugou Stream — Kunyu among them.
The demons sat in a mist-wreathed pavilion. In the distance was the Nightmare King’s back, wholly absorbed in playing his qin; he clearly hadn’t deigned to take the assembly into his eyes at all.
The Demon Lords exchanged a look and saluted in unison.
One of them called out, “One word from the Demon King, and we lead our troops into Yaojing! Time waits for no one — Demon King, hesitate no longer!”
For hundreds and thousands of years the demons had waited for this moment. They had always believed the Heavenly Dao sorted all beings into ranks and grades, long indifferent to the safety of the realms below — never imagining that tribulation lightning would one day strike toward Yaojing itself.
And that was no lightning of vendetta. It was heaven’s wrath!
Yet the Nightmare King went on playing. Only after a long while did he say, “This is a great matter for the Demon Realm. Not one mountain realm Demon Lord may be absent. We will discuss it when every Demon Lord is gathered under one roof.”
And the one missing was, of course, Longming.
But for Longming to set foot in Wugou Stream — how was that any different from deliberate humiliation?
The assembled demons went sallow-faced, understanding at once what the Nightmare King intended: he meant to make things difficult for Longming — and to drive the mountain realm Demon Lords to help him cast the stones.
Kunyu, the skull perched on her head, stepped out from among the demons. Her eyes slid sideways toward the distance, as if searching for some trace of Liangmeng, yet she faced the Nightmare King as she spoke: “I have already been to Cangqiong Mountain Realm. I begged its Demon Lord to come forth. She refuses to enter Wugou Stream.”
Utter nonsense, of course. Watching, Longming snorted inwardly.
The Nightmare King didn’t turn his head. “How she troubles herself for our sake. Still, if she insists on refusing, it seems the Demon Realm’s life and death, its flourishing and withering, mean nothing to her.”
Kunyu said, “We are all gathered here — of three divinations, follow the two2. Why should her wishes matter?”
“Cangqiong Mountain Realm is the richest and most expansive land in the Demon Realm save Wugou Stream itself. It holds demons by the tens of thousands — are their wishes also not worth consulting?” The Nightmare King’s voice was unhurried. “A Demon King’s greatest taboo is to monopolize power and lord it over all.”
The Demon Lords fell silent as cicadas in winter.
The Nightmare King continued, “If Longming cannot be brought here, then bring every last small demon of Cangqiong Mountain Realm to this place. As Demon King, I must naturally hear all the voices of the Demon Realm.”
Beside the Nightmare King, a little Nightmare Demon knelt in full prostration3 and cried out at the top of its voice, “How wise, Great King!”
It sounded faintly wise. But anyone with eyes could see that the Nightmare King’s words were nothing less than a threat to hold the demons hostage against Longming.
The Nightmare King smiled. “You may repeat all of this to Longming, word for word.”
Who would repeat it? Who would go to Cangqiong Mountain Realm?
All eyes turned to Kunyu. Among the mountain realm Demon Lords, Kunyu was the boldest and most reckless — and the closest to Longming.
But Kunyu refused. She pulled the skull down to cover her whole face and said coldly, “Don’t look at me. I’ve been once already. She wouldn’t come.”
Hidden behind the skull, Kunyu didn’t even look, jabbing her finger at random in three directions with maximum perfunctoriness: “You, you, and you. The trouble goes to these three Demon Lords.”
The three great demons stood dumbstruck as wooden chickens — for a moment they’d even forgotten how to object.
At that, the other Demon Lords chimed in one after another: “Then the trouble falls to the three of you together!”
The Nightmare King’s hand paused over the strings. “I do hope to see all the Demon Lords gathered here soon. That would truly be a spectacle unseen in a hundred years.”
The three Demon Lords could no longer refuse.
The drifting smoke dispersed, and with it the scene came to its end.
The Chunyang Demon Lord fingered the hairpin in her hair, warily studying Longming’s expression. “As my Lord has seen — that is precisely why we’ve come.”
Longming quietly entered a mark in her mental ledger against Kunyu. That skull-head talked in circles — going by the writing on the White Deer Paper earlier, she’d thought the demons hadn’t yet gone to Wugou Stream. Turned out they’d already been, and now had to invite her back for a second visit.
Then again, perhaps she’d missed part of the message. After all, that paper couldn’t hold its words.
The three Demon Lords heard Longming’s cold laugh, and every hair on them stood on end.
The Chunyang Demon Lord stealthily raised her arm and bumped the Fuye Demon Lord’s shoulder; the Fuye Demon Lord in turn quietly dug her elbow into the Helin Demon Lord’s side.
Out of options, the Helin Demon Lord forced the question out: “May we ask what the Demon Lord’s decision is…?”
Longming’s gaze traveled slowly across the three faces, so alarming them they dared not raise their eyes.
She gave a faint sneer. “I’ll go. Why wouldn’t I?”
Such a ready agreement left the Demon Lords trembling. The three had been timid and retiring to begin with; now they were like the paper on a window lattice — one poke and they’d tear.
Chill soaked Longming’s eyes. If she went to Wugou Stream, Zhuoxue could not be left alone at Lingkong Mountain — who knew whether the Nightmare King or Emperor Tianji might exploit the opening.
Fortunately, she had no shortage of methods.
“No time to lose — since you have accepted the invitation, my Lord, we shall take our leave and…” The Helin Demon Lord was drenched in sweat, stammering, and was cut off before she could finish.
“When, and where?” Longming asked.
That was the most important part — in their terror, the three had forgotten it entirely.
The Helin Demon Lord hastened to answer: “Tomorrow at the You Hour4, outside Wugou Stream.”
Longming did not invite the three Demon Lords in to sit again. She turned away with a parting, “Farewell. Mind your steps — I won’t see you out.”
The three had never wanted to enter in the first place. At her words they felt as if granted a grand amnesty; they wheeled about and each fled for home.
Chunxi, waiting at a distance, restored the barrier. Water-light streamed across the mountain gate as the fissure sealed itself and vanished.
Longming said evenly, “Tomorrow I go to Wugou Stream to meet this Nightmare King.”
Chunxi was alarmed. “The Nightmare King’s methods are base. Please be careful, my Lord.”
“No matter. This trip cannot be avoided.” Longming gave a cold scoff. “Fortunately Kunyu was clever enough to point at those three. Those three are sluggish, rule-bound creatures. Had it been any other demon, they’d likely not only have arrived early — they’d already have forced the gate.”
“Why didn’t Lord Kunyu come herself?” Chunxi was baffled.
Longming considered. “The Nightmare King knows how close she and I are. Why would he trust her?”
“And the Nightmare King dares trust these three?” Chunxi asked.
Longming shook her head. “I suspect he trusts no one.”
Chunxi, failing to hold her breath one moment longer, caught another full breath of it by accident.
Watching Longming about to leave, she felt dazed, and couldn’t help probing from the side: “This subordinate oversteps, but — this subordinate recalls that the fox went down the mountain with you, my Lord. She… didn’t return with you?”
She’d asked it after all.
After a long moment, Longming said with a scoff, “There’s no need to concern yourself with her. Nothing else — you may withdraw.”
Chunxi’s mind reeled: Wait — what?
Still dazed, she hurriedly answered, “This subordinate takes her leave.”
The mountain was silent — perhaps frightened by the pressure of the fox’s return, not half a cry of insects remained.
Longming returned to her bedchamber and entered on soft feet, meaning not to wake the fox — only for a flick of her gaze to find the fox sitting up on the bed, tail in her arms, watching her.
Zhuoxue slept with no sleeping decorum at all. Her silver hair had tangled upon itself — some of it wound about her nine tails, some of it trailing from the gauze bed-curtains down onto the floor tiles.
She sat motionless, toes pressed to toes, knees hugged in one arm and tails in the other, her face wearing a strange sort of grim resolve — against whom she meant to fight to the death, who could say.
Assuming the fox had had a nightmare, Longming walked over, removed the barrier, and tied the fallen gauze curtains back up to the canopy, then bent her head to ask, “You were sleeping soundly just now. What woke you?”
Zhuoxue tilted her head back and asked in a furtive undertone, “What did you go out for?”
“Visitors.” Longming was brief.
Zhuoxue panicked. “I never reined in my pressure the whole way back — don’t tell me the Demon Lords came calling just to demand an explanation from me?”
Longming smiled, worked her fingers like a comb through the fox’s tangled silver hair, and slowly smoothed it out. “You only released your pressure. It’s not as if you smashed a signboard in the middle of the market. Petty as the demons may be, none of them dare run themselves onto Lingkong Mountain’s blade.”
Zhuoxue’s alarm proved false. She tossed the fox tail in her arms aside and lay back down. “If they weren’t here to demand an explanation, what were they here to demand?”
No respectable demon pays a call in the dead of night without schemes.
Longming laid it all out. “The demons want to use the momentum of the heavenly lightning to interrogate Kunlun Jade Capital. The Nightmare King refuses to make up his mind unless every mountain realm Demon Lord is present. Those three came to invite me to Wugou Stream to deliberate on a grave matter.”
Zhuoxue had been startled awake from sleep — her realm was different now. Even with the barrier in the way, she could hear what went on outside.
Still short on sleep, and knowing this commotion was to be charged to the Nightmare King’s account, she said indignantly, “As if seeing you were his to demand!”
“This time, it truly is a trip to Wugou Stream,” said Longming.
Zhuoxue was so sleepy she swayed, eyelids drooping. “Why give him what he wants? He’s definitely plotting against you!”
Longming was struck speechless. After a moment she said, “I’m not giving him what he wants. I’m giving you what you want.”
In an instant Zhuoxue was no longer sleepy. She glared at her, wide-eyed.
“I want to take you with me.” Longming’s heart was calm.
Zhuoxue was taken aback. “Do I even have that kind of capability?”
“I need to sound out the Nightmare King’s intentions — but I can’t leave you alone at Lingkong Mountain.” Longming spoke slowly.
“It wouldn’t exactly be alone. The whole mountain’s full of demons,” Zhuoxue said in a small voice.
“Tianji is still Celestial Leader of Yaojing — one hand can shield the whole sky.” Longming’s eyes were dark and deep. “The Nightmare Tribe shares his cause. Borrowing his east wind5 would be easy for them.”
Zhuoxue fell silent. So no matter which way she turned, danger pressed in on every side.
Longming gave a faint sneer. “I often wonder whether the Heavenly Dao simply cannot see the suffering of the demon and mortal realms.”
Zhuoxue muttered under her breath, “Maybe it’s not that it can’t see. Maybe it’s playing blind — like me, working so hard to hide things from you all that time.”
A muffled clap of thunder suddenly rolled across the sky’s edge.
The fox said no more. She faked a yawn, flopped over, and pretended to be asleep.
Footnotes
- 顷 | qing | Traditional Chinese land measure equal to 100 mu, roughly 6.7 acres or 2.7 hectares; 'ten thousand qing' is a stock phrase for a vast, near-boundless expanse of territory.
- 三占从二 | san zhan cong er | Literally 'of three divinations, follow the two' — from the ancient Rites of Zhou, where a majority among three divination readings settled the outcome; the classical way of invoking majority rule.
- 五体投地 | wuti toudi | Buddhist full prostration — forehead, both palms, and both knees pressed to the ground, the deepest possible obeisance; frequently used to mock groveling flattery.
- 酉时 | Youshi | The tenth of the twelve traditional Chinese two-hour periods, spanning roughly 5:00 to 7:00 PM and named for the 'you' earthly branch; the hour of dusk.
- 借东风 | jie dongfeng | 'Borrowing the east wind' — from the Battle of Red Cliffs (208 CE), where the strategist Zhuge Liang summoned a favorable wind to enable a devastating fire attack; an idiom for riding another's power toward one's own ends.
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