That was the greatest ambition and dream of the young little demon.
Later, he achieved it.
He clawed and struggled in the Ten Thousand Demons Cave, using every possible means to rise above others.
He truly became the notorious great demon.
Yet she had already become the Young Sect Master of Kunlun, whose duty was to slay demons and exterminate evil.
Her natal sword was called Fumo.
Fate seemed to have played a joke on the little demon’s dream.
The harder he tried, the farther apart they grew.
One upright and righteous, the other steeped in endless evil.
Between them, only blades and swords remained.
That grasshopper of woven grass was buried deep within the years, turning yellow and fading with each passing year.
✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦
Xiao Yanjing quietly stayed by its master’s side.
It had actually tried to comfort him, curling its tail around his fingers.
But the effect was clearly not very good. The Demon Venerable gave Xiao Yanjing no response at all.
The youth silently gazed at the brightly lit market, his mood evidently fallen to the lowest point.
Until a familiar voice came from behind—
“Yan Xueyi!”
The demon youth turned around.
How strange—
Clearly a sword cultivator, yet when she was anxious, she could not even fly on her sword anymore.
The Demon Venerable looked down at her and said coldly: “What, afraid I’ll start a massacre here, so you’ve come to meddle again?”
He turned around and strode away.
Yet even so, she pursued relentlessly. Wherever he went, she followed like a shadow.
In the end, he had no choice but to slow his steps.
He lowered his head to her and said viciously, “If you keep following me, I’ll kill them all!”
Clearly, his mood today had sunk to the very bottom. He had not the slightest bit of patience left.
But she grabbed his wrist and stopped him: “Yan Xueyi!”
“I saw his memories. I know everything.”
She lowered her head and pried open his right hand. In his palm, that grasshopper lay quietly. She said softly, “The one who saved me in the Ten Thousand Demons Cave… was you.”
Yan Xueyi’s entire body stiffened. But very quickly, he regained his composure and tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Don’t flatter yourself.”
She refused to let it go and lifted her gaze to stare at him. “Yan Xueyi, you’re lying.”
He shifted his eyes away, refusing to look at her bright gaze, and said coldly, “At that time, I was busy seizing territory. Who would care whether a little sword cultivator like you lived or died? Whether you lived or died in the Ten Thousand Demons Cave, what does it have to do with me?”
That bitter feeling from back then, he had long since let it go. So many years had passed, yet now she had to dig up that grasshopper again. As if reminding him of that little demon who had crawled out of the Ten Thousand Demons Cave—how foolish, how laughable that dream had been.
What answer did she want to hear?
He strode off, wanting to leave this dreadful place filled with the aura of human cultivators. He wanted to return to the Demon Realm. Though it was nothing but eternal night, at least he would not have to see this infuriating sword cultivator.
He was even afraid that if he stayed any longer, he might not be able to stop himself from starting a massacre.
Yet that sword cultivator, utterly fearless of death, kept clinging to him. Wherever he went, she followed.
She herself did not understand why she had to obtain this answer. Perhaps it was because, in that sunless Ten Thousand Demons Cave, when she had been barely clinging to life, the vague memory of that figure who carried her on his back and climbed upward—refusing to let go even at the brink of death—was too deeply imprinted.
As if the girl who had once been abandoned long ago… was not a pitiful creature clawing upward in the darkness with blood-soaked hands, dying without anyone caring.
“Yan Xueyi, I remember everything.”
Yan Xueyi, Yan Xueyi—through streets and alleys, she called endlessly.
“You even bit me while I was asleep.”
His steps halted. At last, he stopped.
The anger in those phoenix eyes was like a storm hidden beneath a calm sea.
He took a deep breath, turned, and advanced toward her step by step, his gaze turning extremely fierce:
“Chao Jinsui, what exactly do you want?”
“So what if it was me? And what if it wasn’t?”
Step by step, he forced her into the corner of the wall, looking at her with mockery. Even if she knew the answer, what could it change? If she knew, would she no longer stand against him simply because he was a demon? Were all these years of blades drawn against each other merely a misunderstanding?
The mockery in his eyes was on the verge of overflowing.
Yet she neither dodged nor avoided him, meeting his gaze directly. As if she was certain that the one who saved her must be him—that the foolish soft-hearted person must be him.
He did not want to look at her eyes any longer and said coldly: “Just take it as my conscience not yet completely lost. After doing so many bad things, I had to do one or two good deeds to balance it out.”
“There’s no need for you to dwell on it so much. What—could it be that you even want to thank a demon?”
But she lowered her head and asked softly, “Saving me… it must have been very hard, right?”
Su Liuyun was a young master of a noble family, entering and leaving with guards and attendants. If he had rescued her from the Ten Thousand Demons Cave, perhaps it would have been troublesome, but not especially dangerous; but the little demon back then was different.
Her memory was very blurry. She only knew that he had bled—bled a great deal.
It must have been very difficult, right?
A feeling she could not describe rose in her heart, like biting into an unripe fruit hanging on a tree, so astringent that the tip of her tongue went numb.
She was not good at expressing her emotions. She only lifted her head and looked at him—yet that gaze made Yan Xueyi clench his palm tightly at once.
—As if she were looking at a pitiful little dog she had abandoned behind her. Wanting to reach out, yet stopping in guilt.
He saw her expression clearly and let out a cold laugh: “The Demon Clan does not need false gratitude and pity. Leave. Don’t let me see that expression on your face again—I won’t be able to stop myself from killing you.”
He did not need gratitude or pity. The little demon from many years ago did not need it, and now, even more so, he did not need it. That little demon who had crawled out of the Ten Thousand Demons Cave, who had carefully reached out to pinch her cheek—he had long since died.
Now, the Lord of the Demon Realm commanded countless subordinates, the leader of ten thousand demons.
He was steeped in evil, decisive in slaughter.
No longer that pitiful creature.
He raised his hand and shook her hand off.
Yet the grasshopper in his right hand shot out like a shooting star. After years of being nourished by Su Liuyun’s spiritual energy, the grasshopper had long since become a magical artifact. Now it flew far, far away—and had already fallen into the lake, disappearing without a trace.
He froze.
He saw her expression stiffen, an expression more hurt than he had ever seen before, staring blankly at him.
He wanted to say he had not meant to—but his lips parted and closed, and at this moment he could not say a single word.
Just like a long time ago—
The little demon had been cold and hard by nature, unable to speak gentle words. He said he wanted to take her back to the Demon Realm, but after being rejected countless times, after blades were drawn against him, his words became sharp, filled with venom. That was the nature of demons—like a blade sharpened on both sides; even if it hurt others and hurt himself, it would never soften in the slightest.
He did not dare look at her expression, did not dare think what she now thought of him.
He did not want to hear the words she was about to speak.
The moment the grasshopper flew away, the distance between them seemed to grow very, very far again.
So far that it returned to the very beginning.
But… that was how it should be.
She was born a cultivator of the righteous path, upright and noble, with the duty of slaying demons and eliminating evil;
And he—was born a demon steeped in endless evil. In this lifetime, it would be impossible for him to lay down the butcher’s blade.
He closed his eyes.
He turned around and was about to stride away.
Let it be.
Like that grasshopper that had sunk to the bottom of the lake, it should never have remained.
Yet the next moment, he heard a splash.
He turned his head and saw that slender figure leap straight into the icy lake.
Kunlun Lake lay quietly at the foot of Kunshan, formed from thousand-year cold springs converging together.
This was the frigid water the disciples of the Kunlun Sword Sect used to temper their meridians. In the depths of winter, it was bone-chillingly cold—even the mist rising from the lake surface was laced with fine ice crystals. An ordinary disciple could endure no more than ten breaths before the cold pierced to the bone. Yet she was like a silver fish swimming against the current, breaking through the icy surface and plunging toward the depths of the lake.
She was going to chase that grasshopper destined to sink to the bottom.
