Baihua, the Jade Immortal in the clouds, shook his head helplessly. That’s not eating much? How much would be considered a lot? She’s already hungry after such a short time… Seeing Xiaotu was safe, he turned to leave…
Chapter Nine: Xiaotu in the Demon Realm, “Heavenly Demon Palace.”
“King, today it’s said that a very strange ‘rain’ fell in the human world, known as ‘Purple Crystal Rain.’ Also, secret reports from Ting Yue indicate that two withered cherry blossom trees in the royal palace of Ting Yue blossomed overnight.” A masked man in black knelt on one knee, his voice respectful, hands tightly clenched, with beads of cold sweat on his forehead, indicating how fearful this man was. His arrogance was such that even the demons feared him. With a wave of the king’s hand, the man quickly turned to leave, feeling fortunate that the king seemed to be in a good mood today. However, he did not dare to look directly at the king and thus missed the smile on the Demon King’s lips, which would have driven him to madness had he seen it.
The Demon Realm is at the very bottom of the abyss, a paradise of darkness, a world ruled by terrifying demons. Bloodthirst is the nature of demons, arrogance is their essence, and cold-bloodedness is their mark. ** :**
Demons are symbols of blood and cruelty. The Demon Palace, the abode of the Demon King, is dazzling both externally and internally, with its colorful glazed columns, floors made of gold, and a vast hall where a throne, carved from the finest blood jade and inlaid with spirit pills of ten thousand years of cultivation that can enhance one’s cultivation, sits atop a luxurious dragon skin from the divine beast White Dragon…
The Demon King gazes at the peerless beauty in his magic mirror, her purple wavy hair, clear eyes untainted by dust, a sweet and intoxicating face, a golden cherry blossom mark on her smooth forehead, her purple attire floating gracefully under the moonlight, exuding an innate charm… This is Xiaotu, dozing off in the corridor. He outlines the eyebrows, the nose, the eyes, and the contours of the figure in the mirror with his finger… Why does his chest feel warm? Such a strange sensation, as if this is what humans call a ‘heart’. Haha, ridiculous, how could he, the Demon King, have a heart? He, who ascended to the throne by stepping over countless corpses. Could it be that the little figure in the mirror has truly moved him? With a wave of his hands, the mirror vanishes, and he mounts his beast, the “Blood Qilin,” to speed out of the palace…
“Xiaotu is so pitiful, missing mom, missing brother, missing dad…” Xiaotu, rubbing her pitiful pillow, sighs alone in the corridor…
“Are you unhappy?” A gloomy voice sounds from behind. Xiaotu is startled. Turning around, she sees a man in golden attire with striking golden hair and a face as sharp as a knife, radiating an aura of dominance and rugged handsomeness. He’s like the arrival of the Grim Reaper, causing the surrounding flowers to wither under his demonic presence. “Who are you? What’s your name?” Xiaotu inquires curiously. “I don’t know,” he replies coldly, suppressing his demonic nature to avoid frightening her. Before ascending to the throne, he was known as the “Demon Beggar,” the lowest of the low in the demon realm, and after becoming king, he’s simply called “King.” Isn’t it laughable? He has no name.
Upon hearing this, Xiaotu looks him over, up and down, and based on her experience, she concludes he must have amnesia, as his situation matches what Sisi described. “Brother, have you ever had a head injury?” she asks earnestly, almost like a doctor. “Yes,” he answers honestly. How could someone who lives in slaughter every day not be injured? “That explains it,” she says, and without further ado, she throws a series of light punches at his head. The Demon King watches, puzzled, as Xiaotu seriously punches his head, but it doesn’t hurt. Is she trying to hit me?
“Big brother, did you remember anything?” Xiaotu stops her punches, looking at him with innocent purple eyes. “Pfft… I haven’t lost my memory, nor am I sick. I just don’t have a name.” He couldn’t help but laugh; when was the last time he laughed? Perhaps never. So, she thought he had amnesia, and someone actually cared for him. The warmth of being cared for felt so comforting. “Big brother, you’re so pitiful. How about I give you a name?” she offers enthusiastically. “Alright,” he agrees, not wanting to disappoint her. “How about calling you ‘Milk Bun’?” “…” He’s covered in black lines. “Then ‘Cloud Cake’?” “Can’t you be normal?” His handsome face turns green. “Oh, you don’t like those names. Then let’s call you ‘Wang Xie’.” She muses, ‘Wang Xie,’ arrogant and evil, matching his character. “Wang Xie, good.” She’s quite clever, knowing his identity all along.
Xiaotu doesn’t know that Wang Xie is the Demon King; she only sees him as a lonely, dark figure like the Night Shura, a messenger from hell. She never considered how dangerous he might be, only seeing the fragility and need for care in the person before her. Her thoughts aren’t wrong, but she doesn’t realize that her gentleness and meticulousness are a deadly temptation.
“But, big brother, why did you come looking for Xiaotu?” “…” Why did he come? He doesn’t know, perhaps just… “Come with me.” Yes, he wants her to follow him back to the Demon Palace. “Okay, Xiaotu will go with you, but you must bring me back before dawn, or Timsula and the others will worry.” Xiaotu, in her innocence, doesn’t overthink, trusting that this person won’t harm her. “…Alright.” Faced with her sweet, gentle smile, Wang Xie finds himself unable to say ‘no.’ In the blink of an eye, they arrive at the “Heavenly Demon Palace.” Xiaotu stares in awe at the golden hall, her mouth forming an ‘O.’ She adorably bites a piece of gold, then exclaims in shock, “It’s real! Wow, Wang Xie, you’re amazing!” Wang Xie, amused by her cuteness, asks, “Do you like it?” “Not really, living in such a shiny place all the time is bad for the eyes,” Xiaotu says naively, touching and poking around. Perhaps at that moment, watching her cute gold-biting antics and hearing her amusing responses, he felt he could watch her forever, listen to her forever, indulge her forever, and perhaps even forever would not be enough.
Sitting on his throne, Wang Xie watches Xiaotu bustling around below, her purple figure busy with “research,” finding it neither annoying nor tiresome, but rather delightful. “Brother, do you have any snacks?” Xiaotu asks, touching her stomach with watery eyes. “…” Demons don’t eat such things. He could offer her exotic beasts; he has plenty, things not found in the outside world. Seeing a jug of osmanthus wine nearby, its tempting sweet aroma filling her nose, Xiaotu eagerly gulps it down. This wine is a sacred vintage, brewed for tens of thousands of years, with a strong kick but a delightful taste, rich with the scent of osmanthus. As she finishes the remaining half bottle, Wang Xie feels no regret for the wine, nor does he stop her, perhaps with some intent…
Just as he was about to summon the pastry chef, Wang Xie notices the little figure in his arms has begun to doze off. “Brother, Xiaotu will nap for a bit. Wake me up later.” Here is the English of the provided Chinese text:
