The Demon Lord lived up to his reputation. Within a single day, the wounds I had treated had already started to scab over. External injuries, however, were the least of his problems. His real issue was the significant depletion of his cultivation. That was beyond my ability to help with—only he could restore it through meditation and energy alignment. The only thing I could do was secretly withhold some of the medicinal supplements Mu Jue had given me and deliver them to the Demon Lord as an aid.
For the next several days, I found myself in a relentless cycle—caring for Mu Xuan at the Celestial Summit and delivering supplements to the Demon Lord in the river valley. Every day after bringing Mu Xuan his meal, I’d stay for some lighthearted chatter. But today, exhausted beyond measure, I placed the basket before him, sat down at his side, muttered, “Food,” and inexplicably fell asleep.
When I woke up, I realized with horror that I had leaned against Mu Xuan, my cheek resting on his shoulder and my arms wrapped around his for warmth.
Oh no.
Realizing what I had done, my mind raced through a chaotic jumble of thoughts. First: why hadn’t Mu Xuan pushed me away, given the awkwardness of this position? Second: had I said anything incriminating in my sleep? Third, and most importantly: had he taken this opportunity to probe the flow of energy within my body?
By all accounts, the third issue was the most crucial. Yet somehow, I found myself more preoccupied with the first.
Tentatively, I turned my head to check on him, only to discover something even more unexpected—Mu Xuan wasn’t awake.
He was asleep.
Leaning against the icy wall, his eyes were closed, and his breathing was steady. Ever since I’d met Mu Xuan, both three centuries later and now, he’d always maintained a serious, composed demeanor. This peaceful expression was a rare sight.
I watched him for a moment, my heartbeat inexplicably quickening again. Hastily, I turned away, releasing his arm and preparing to slip away quietly. But the moment I moved, his voice broke the silence.
“Don’t come tomorrow.”
His tone was commanding, yet I detected a surprising softness in it. “Climbing the Celestial Summit every day is too much for you.”
I turned to look at him. His eyes were still closed, but his breathing had shifted; he was awake.
“Would you feel lonely if I didn’t come, Master?” I asked with a pout.
He didn’t answer.
“Fine,” I muttered. “I won’t visit you tomorrow.”
As I left the icy cave, I couldn’t resist glancing back. Mu Xuan sat alone, his gaze quietly fixed on me. This time, before I could avert my eyes, he turned away first.
“Go back and rest well,” he said softly, his voice lingering in the air.
Later that night, I brought the supplements to the Demon Lord as usual. He ate in silence, and I sat on a rock watching him. Unable to contain myself, I finally blurted out, “Demon Lord, do you like me?”
He paused mid-swallow, choking slightly, and turned to look at me with a blank expression.
“I mean,” I corrected quickly, pointing toward the Celestial Summit, “do you think Mu Xuan likes me now?”
He swallowed the rest of the supplement. “Probably.”
His casual affirmation left me momentarily stunned. A warm feeling spread through me, different from the triumphant satisfaction I had imagined. Instead of celebrating my “mission accomplished,” I felt a quiet, inexplicable joy, as if soaking in a hot spring on a cold winter day.
“So if I ask him for the Ling Jing, he’d probably give it to me without hesitation, right?”
The Demon Lord nodded slightly.
Hearing this, I expected to feel elated. Yet the thought left me oddly disheartened, as if achieving this goal no longer mattered.
For a while, the gentle sound of the river filled the silence between us.
“Why did you succumb to demonic energy back then?” I asked softly, gazing at the sky. “Why kill your fellow disciples, betray your Master, and align with the demon clan? The Mu Xuan I see now… hides so much kindness within him.”
The Demon Lord remained silent for a long time. Just as I thought he wouldn’t answer, he finally spoke.
“I am like you.”
I blinked in confusion. “Like me how?”
His gaze rested on me, unchanged from the one he had three centuries ago. “Half demon, half human.”
I stared at him, stunned, taking a long moment to process his words. Then, covering my mouth in shock, I stammered, “You… Mu Xuan… half demon?” My disbelief grew. “But you were Cang Lan Sect’s top disciple, raised there since childhood. How could your Master not have known…”
“He knew,” the Demon Lord said calmly. “He never told me. My Master gave me the Ling Jing and had me wear it constantly. At the time, I thought it was just a powerful spiritual artifact to aid my cultivation. Only later did I learn that it was meant to suppress the demonic energy within me.”
I rubbed my temples, feeling overwhelmed. “Wait… slow down. Are you saying your Master, Zhen Ren Cheng Su, knew you were half demon but still accepted you as his disciple? And you didn’t even know yourself? Then… when did you…”
My words trailed off as I remembered that day—at Jing Mountain, when Mu Xuan had exchanged words with the black-clad man and seemed ready to follow him.
“That’s when you learned you were half demon, wasn’t it?”
The Demon Lord’s silence was an admission.
0 Comments