Yan Xueyi and Chao Jinsui have always been irreconcilable. She swore to slaughter all evil demons under heaven—and he just so happens to be the most wicked among them. In her eyes, he is the vile, despicable demon lord.
Not long ago, she still hated evil as if it were her mortal enemy, loathing that this demon had been released to wreak havoc upon all living beings. She had opposed him countless times, crossed blades with him again and again, never once giving him a pleasant expression; and he had likewise sworn that she would surely die by his own hand, imagining countless times how he would torture her until not a scrap of flesh remained, then grind her bones to dust and scatter the ashes, to avenge the humiliation of years past.
But what is she doing now?
Yan Xueyi felt pale, dry lips pressed against his cold, thin ones.
Snapping back from shock, the great demon instinctively took a step back, his whole body stiff, his hands and feet not knowing where to go. But he quickly recovered from the panic, his phoenix eyes narrowing viciously: yes, he believed this mortal enemy must be plotting some despicable scheme, trying to toy with him.
Yet among all the malicious guesses, there was a trace of hope in his heart that he refused to admit.
He grew angry, wanting to throw her away—but the moment he moved, he felt her head collapse into his chest.
The handsome demon lord’s expression turned extremely unpleasant. He stood there trying to calm himself for a long while, but failed to do so: no, he must revive her, wake her up, torture her severely, and interrogate her about what kind of scheme she was brewing.
Perhaps she wanted to see him make a fool of himself; perhaps there was some instant blood-sealing poison upon her lips.
But that soft sensation clung to his lips as if it had taken root and sprouted, refusing to fade.
His expression shifted again and again, utterly unpredictable. He wanted to shake her awake, then torture her mercilessly and force her to explain why she had kissed him.
The snake that had been following its master the whole time poked its head forward.
Although it looked very much like a snake, it was actually a jiao that had failed to transform into a dragon—the proof being the pair of horns on its head identical to its master’s. At this moment, this mighty jiao was filled with anticipation for food, drooling as it hissed a reminder to its master:
“Master, you said once we caught her, we would chop her into eight pieces and feed her to the snakes.”
So it had always been extremely diligent in helping its master, eagerly awaiting the day it could devour this human who emitted a fragrant spiritual aura from head to toe.
The handsome demon lord was currently watching his mortal enemy while lost in a storm of thoughts. Hearing this—
He lowered his head and locked eyes in a deadly stare with his natal spirit beast.
Then he kicked it flying with one foot.
The airborne Jiao: ??
✦ ─ ˗ˋ ୨୧ ˊ˗ ─ ✦
At the border between the human realm and the demon realm, this thousand-li stretch of red wasteland was desolate and uninhabited.
However, once one passed through the barrenness, the nearest demon city would come into view.
Like a wisp of black smoke, the handsome demon lord appeared in a secluded alley within the city. He hesitated for a moment—find some demon pit to chop her into pieces? Or some water prison?
In the end, without alerting any demons, he lifted his foot and went to an inn.
As if throwing away a hot potato, he tossed the person in his arms onto the soft large bed.
He poured himself a cup of tea and drank while casting a dark, sinister gaze at her.
His long fingers curled, tapping against his knee.
Her cheeks were flushed, burning with an abnormal heat, and her lips were pale and dry.
She murmured, “Thirsty…”
He watched for a long time. When she murmured “thirsty” for the third time, he glared viciously at her, poured a cup of tea, gripped her chin, and brought it to her lips.
By sheer coincidence, she opened her eyes at that very moment.
He was still maintaining the posture of feeding her water, and instantly his whole body stiffened.
Just moments ago, the handsome demon lord had already gone through an extremely complicated storm of thoughts.
In the end, he decided to pretend that what had just happened never occurred—
That way, no matter what sinister intentions or cunning schemes she might have, he could remain unmoved.
Chao Jinsui’s consciousness was already very blurred. When she opened her eyes, she saw Yan Xueyi.
The love gu was becoming increasingly active. Her entire body felt as if it were burning in a sea of fire, her blood scorched inch by inch—and the only coolness was that person.
He seemed to be saying something, but in her eyes there was only his mocking thin lips opening and closing.
She murmured something; he could not hear clearly, so he leaned slightly closer.
As a result, she instinctively grabbed him, and her lips pressed against his again.
She called his name, “Yan Xueyi.”
Lips and teeth intertwined, she reached out and wrapped her arms around his neck, like someone dying of thirst, wanting to draw more—she even began lightly biting his thin lips, urgently trying to find that cool, sweet spring.
However, that bite seemed to startle him awake. Yan Xueyi snapped back to his senses, suddenly pushing her away, and he himself abruptly stepped back half a pace.
He noticed her extremely high temperature and her clearly abnormal expression. If at first, being kissed had shocked him so greatly that his mind went blank, then now there was nothing left for him not to understand:
She had been drugged.
In that instant, immense humiliation and fury surged into his heart. The handsome demon lord’s already pale face turned even paler with anger.
He sneered, wiping with the back of his hand over the place she had touched, with extreme force. “What do you take me for?”
He looked as though he had been gravely mocked, his expression utterly dreadful.
If the first time she kissed him, he had only been shocked and confused—though suspecting a scheme, he had not been particularly angry.
But once he realized she had been drugged, he was filled with raging fury and icy coldness.
His fingers tightened, veins bulging, and the way he looked at her was like he was looking at a corpse.
He knew it, he knew it—how could she possibly kiss him?
She found even looking at him filthy; even the sword she carried at her side was called “Fumo (to subdue demons)”; the dignified young sect master of Kunlun Sword Sect, pursued by countless people—how could she lower herself to kiss a demon?
Sure enough, she had only been poisoned and had no other choice.
What did she take him for?
Yan Xueyi lowered his long eyelashes, concealing the chill filling his eyes: something to summon when she wished and dismiss when she pleased, a dog wagging its tail at her?
He shut his eyes fiercely. The agitation, fury, and boiling emotions in his heart gradually returned to a deathly still calm.
The familiar mockery and cold smile returned to his face. He turned and was about to leave.
But he quickly sensed something was wrong, because she was too quiet—even the chaotic, hurried sound of breathing had disappeared.
He turned his head. Just as he was about to sneer a few words, he froze in the next instant.
He discovered she had curled up in the quilt, her entire body trembling.
He saw her fingers clutching the quilt tightly.
She was crying.
But her crying made no sound, very quiet. This was the way of crying that had grown accustomed to endurance.
She knew he had no reason to help her. She had long understood the cruel laws of survival. Relying on others was useless; she had never bowed her head to anyone—let alone to Yan Xueyi.
But this time, she was unwilling. She truly was unwilling.
She saw the corpse of Chao Zhaoyue in her dreams; when he died, he was still clutching the spiritual medicine meant for her in his hand. She saw herself, bound by the Heaven-and-Earth contract, unable to take revenge even though she wanted to; she saw countless betrayals, countless exploitations…
She thought, if he was unwilling, she could beg him, she could exchange benefits with him—even if she had to face his ridicule and mockery, or pay an enormous price, she would accept it.
But she opened her mouth, yet could not make a sound.
The demon lord’s footsteps stopped.
He thought: does it hurt that much? It’s only mere Hehuan Powder, how could she cry like this?
He had seen her pull an arrowhead from her shoulder without making a sound; he had seen her clothes soaked red with blood while she silently and stubbornly covered her wound and continued forward.
Her eyes had always been calm and resolute.
But now, those eyes that always carried a chill were red, quietly looking at him like this.
Uncontrollably, he recalled the first time he saw her: she had not even reached the height of a table leg, her eyes like a little rabbit’s, asking him whether it hurt. At the time, he thought such a clean, beautiful, adorable little girl belonged to a world different from his, so he glared fiercely at her, hoping to scare her away.
But later…
He came back to his senses.
In the end, he curled his lips in self-mockery.
Before she could even manage to say that word “beg,” he strode back.
He lowered his head and looked into her eyes for a long time. Finally, as if unable to bear her gaze, and unwilling for her to see what he looked like at this moment, he tore open his sleeve and covered her eyes, concealing those familiar eyes.
Darkness fell before her.
She hesitated, calling softly, “Yan Xueyi.”
He carefully leaned closer and gently kissed her once.
He hesitated, thinking: is this how you kiss?
The demon race had no taboos of meat or vegetable, their customs open, often behaving recklessly—thus many mixed-bloods wandered the world.
But Yan Xueyi was a complete anomaly. He possessed the cruelty and violence of the demon race, yet pursued only power with single-minded devotion; however, because all his subordinates were demons with little sense of propriety, often indulging themselves in the open air, with no restraints whatsoever, sometimes even bold demons invited him to join them.
Not only did he often have to endure eye-burning scenes, he also had to kick demons flying at any time. So though he had never eaten pork, he had seen pigs run—he knew how to dispel poison.
He tried prying open her lips.
She was like someone searching for a trace of coolness, without any method, somewhat anxious as she kissed him.
He retreated a little, and she chased after him.
Breathing grew rapid, their breaths entwining.
He was bitten back to his senses and realized he had already been forced into a corner.
He paused slightly, somewhat annoyed.
Suddenly, he viciously gripped her chin and pressed down.
They fell onto the bed.
This demon lord held grudges and was petty—it was hardly like kissing, more like tearing and biting, like some beast in the midst of hunting its prey.
Only after biting her until she retreated step by step did the corners of his lips curl upward in satisfaction.
But when he realized what he was doing, that smug expression froze on his face.
The temperamental demon lord’s face darkened all at once. He realized he had been far too gentle with this reckless mortal enemy—so gentle it was practically as if he were a dog that would wag its tail the moment she crooked her finger.
—Right. She was only treating him as a tool. If she hadn’t been forced by circumstance, she would never have touched even one of his fingers.
The emotions boiling like magma were suddenly doused with a basin of cold water, cooling rapidly.
He stopped and asked darkly, “Have you thought it through?”
Countless vicious thoughts flashed through his mind.
She was on the verge of death, and in a faint, threadlike voice asked him, “Yan Xueyi… you… don’t know how, do you?”
The demon lord: …
The handsome demon lord’s gaze turned dark, extremely aggressive. The broken demon horn gave him a touch of beastlike ferocity. He roughly seized her wrist, flipped over, and pinned her down, letting out a cold laugh. “You brought this on yourself.”
“You didn’t forget how much I hate you, did you?”
He restrained her waist, his voice at her ear cold to the bone:
