Chapter 15: Those who are involved with the devil

But it really wanted to take a look at that Dao Pearl.

That legendary Dao Pearl, forged by the ancient demon Xu Liling from the spiritual bones of 108 celestial immortals.

The 108 bone pearls corresponded to the Heavenly Gang and Earthly Fiends, aligned with the cosmos’ stars—each one infinitely mutable.

Xu Liling had slaughtered countless with them.

It had assumed such a supreme treasure would be kept in the Sacred Demon City.

Yet he’d just left it casually in this shabby little house?

It truly couldn’t fathom his reasoning.

Little Yellow peeked into the courtyard.

Yingran had already dried her hair.

Xu Liling stored their two loungers, wrapped an arm around her, and led her inside to sleep, shutting the door behind them.

The dog fell silent.

The dog shook its head.

The dog trudged back to its nest to sleep.

On the way, it passed the cat’s nest—and gave it a kick.

For the next three days, Yingran didn’t dream again, so she dismissed it.

She’d nearly finished packing the house and counting their spirit stones.

With a flying horse at home, they wouldn’t need a carriage—Lingyang was just a day’s journey.

Next, she’d chart a route, avoid demon-infested mountains, pick a date, and depart.

Xu Liling had also resigned from Jinshui Town’s inn.

He’d given the innkeeper three days to find a replacement.

Yesterday, he completed the handover. Everything was settled.

This morning, Yingran rose early to visit her parents in Yunshui County with Xu Liling.

She tied the newly embroidered green bamboo belt around his waist.

Relieved to leave this trouble behind, she chatted cheerfully:

“When we tell Mom about moving, she’ll definitely sulk.

But she’ll get over it—her heart’s always been stuck on Dad anyway.

“As for Dad, he thinks once I’m married, it’s natural to follow my husband.”

After fastening the belt, she brushed her fingers along Xu Liling’s waist.

So slender.

Yet firm and lean beneath the fabric.

Xu Liling draped an arm over her shoulders and guided her out.

Once the door was locked, they mounted the flying horse.

“Want to stop by the preserved fruit shop for snacks?”

That shop behind the academy—Yingran had frequented it since childhood.

Sometimes she craved it, and Xu Liling would bring some home.

Yingran had nearly forgotten.

Grateful he remembered, she smiled up at him.

“Yes! Let’s stock up—we won’t get these often in Lingyang.”

Xu Liling murmured “Mm,”

Dipped his chin, and rested it atop her head.

Yingran mock-glared and shoved him.

He refused to budge, insisting on the gesture.

So she playfully wrestled with him atop the horse, laughter trailing them all the way to Spring Toad Academy.

Oddly, the academy was silent despite it being a school day.

Yingran muttered, “Did they go on a study trip?”

Her father sometimes took students on “field learning” outings.

Afterward, they’d have to write essays.

Yingran had hated that as a child.

Now, she just worried her parents weren’t home—wasting their trip.

As she raised her hand to knock, Xu Liling suddenly stopped her.

“We can’t announce our move empty-handed.

Let’s buy gifts first.”

Yingran agreed and followed him to the back street.

The shops were open but eerily quiet.

Had the Yunzhou cultivators imposed this silence?

Just then, a flash of yellow darted into the alley by the fruit shop.

Yingran blinked. “Was that Guan Yi?”

“Mm.”

Xu Liling said, “Go find him.

Have him help carry gifts later.

I’ll speak to your father first.”

This way, she’d avoid lengthy parental chatter—a quick exit.

He always planned ahead.

Always shielded her from familial friction.

Yingran’s eyes sparkled.

“Okay.”

Xu Liling stroked her cheek.

“Go.”

She released him and called into the alley, “Guan Yi?”

A head peeked out—glanced past her at Xu Liling—then yanked her into the shadows.

Only then did Xu Liling turn toward the academy.

Guan Yi acted furtive, refusing to let Yingran leave the alley.

She teased, “What’s wrong? Are those Yunzhou cultivators after you?”

Guan Yi hissed, “I’m not the one they’re hunting!”

Yingran froze. “What?”

…

He dragged her deeper, whispering urgently:

“Sharp-eyed bastard… At least he sent you away.

Follow me. We’ll talk outside the city.

Lord Dou’s already escorting your parents to Sujing.”

Yingran’s chest tightened. “Guan Yi, explain!”

Guan Yi: “No time! Just come!

Something huge is about to happen here!”

She tried to pull free. “I’ll get Huaizhen—”

“NO!”

He wrenched her back. “It’s because of him!”

A cold dread seeped into her. “What?”

Guan Yi summoned his sword, forcing her aboard.

“Xu Liling’s a demon.

He killed those 25 cultivators.”

Her mind reeled.

Xu Liling’s odd behavior—now it made sense.

He’d never willingly send her to Guan Yi.

Eyes wide, she stopped resisting.

If danger loomed, staying would only burden him.

As Guan Yi’s sword shot toward the city walls, he gasped:

“The Yunzhou cultivators set a trap at the academy.

They forced your parents out, accused them of colluding with demons.

Lord Dou couldn’t intervene—just got them to safety.”

Yingran whispered, “Sujing’s good… Dad has connections there.”

Guan Yi studied her. “And you?

You—you knew he was a demon?!”

Yingran exhaled.

“I knew.”

She’d imagined this worst-case scenario:

Xu Liling, hunted.

Guan Yi’s voice cracked. “You knew?!”

At fourteen, he achieved the “Triple First” honor (top scholar in provincial, metropolitan, and palace examinations) and plucked the laurel of the moon (won first place in the imperial exams).

Galloping through Jing’an Street…

Tengyu Sixth Year…

That was—a thousand years ago.

Yingran stared at the youth in the painting, her pupils trembling, unable to tear herself away.

Only when a pained groan came from the corner did she snap back to reality. She hurriedly climbed down from the low table and draped the silk curtain over Guan Yi.

She scanned the hall, then moved to uncover more of the veiled paintings.

Another curtain lifted—

This one showed the same young man, now in a red robe with a golden sash, his hair tied under a jade-adorned crown, drinking freely at a banquet. Unrestrained, bold, and effortlessly charming.

The inscription read:

[Early Tengyu Seventh Year, Yi Dynasty—The Immortal prepared to leave the capital and wander the world. King Tengyu hosted a farewell feast.

The Immortal, still young, was unaccustomed to wine.

Drunk, he recited Li Bai’s verse:

“All I ask is that while I’m singing with wine,
Moonlight will forever grace my golden cup.”]

Yet another painting:

The youth now wore a white martial robe with a black sash, a folding fan and sword at his waist, perched on a mountain crag, drinking as he gazed at the rolling clouds and rushing rivers below.

Free-spirited, untamed—like a wandering swordsman.

The inscription:

[Tengyu Seventh Year, late autumn.

The Immortal traveled to a remote mountain county, subduing a man-eating beast.

When he asked where the finest view could be found, a woodcutter pointed him to Azure Cloud Cliff at the end of Golden Water River.

The Immortal rode the waves to the cliff, drank in the wind, and reveled in the landscape.

Moved by the moment, he recited Wang Wei’s lines:
“I walk until the water ends,
And sit to watch the rising clouds.”]

Beneath it, smaller characters added: “Thus, the county was renamed Cloudwater…”

Yingran’s eyes drifted from the text back to the painted youth.

His smile was radiant, his joy uncontained—a young man at the peak of his brilliance, unbound by heaven or earth.

For a moment, she reached out, fingers hovering just shy of the canvas.

She didn’t dare touch it.

A thousand years of history lingered in those pigments—too fragile for careless hands.

Rain fell lightly, mixing with blood, staining the earth in swirling crimson.

The ground was littered with corpses, identities blurred in the carnage.

Even the four peak masters of Xuanheng Sect lay buried among the dead.

Hongya Gong, no longer the proud figure from before, leaned heavily on his twin hammers, drenched in blood, eyes burning.

His last remaining spirit-beast—a lion-elephant hybrid—stood beside him, its fur matted red.

Against all denial, he now faced the truth:

This was the man he’d dreaded to name.

Xu Liling tucked away his Dao beads and stepped forward.

“You’re a true warrior,” he praised. “Had the realms not been severed, you’d have ascended to immortality. The Dao has lost a gem today.”

Hongya Gong spat blood but refused to kneel. With a final surge of will, he stroked his lion-elephant and roared—burning his soul to unleash a last, desperate strike.

The beast let out a mournful cry, its body dissolving into light as it merged with Hongya Gong.

The elder’s form swelled, towering like a two-story demon, looming over Xu Liling.

A shattered barrier rained down around them. Screams erupted as nearby civilians fled the ruined academy.

Xu Liling laughed, exhilarated. “Good. Good!”

Blood-drenched fingers drew a seal in the air.

“Your defiance earns you a glimpse of my third form.”

First seal broke—Demonic winds howled.

Second seal broke—A miasma of darkness unfurled.

Third seal broke—The very earth beneath Xu Liling’s feet began rotting into a demonic realm.

Rain turned black. Mist thickened with malice.

Hongya Gong’s breath hitched.

Just three seals… and the land itself corrupts?

Even knowing resistance was futile, he charged.

Yingran stood amidst the uncovered paintings, a book clutched in her hands—a record of the youth’s life.

Born with a saintly constitution, heir to a celestial city’s lord.

At one year old, he was taken to the heavenly courts.

By three, he dined at the Divine Emperor’s table.

At five, he traveled with his master, slaying demons and purging evil. Though too young for the immortal rolls, the world already called him “Little Immortal Lord.”

At thirteen, prideful and peerless, he wandered the Yi Dynasty’s lands alone—

Savoring the world’s beauty, cutting down its darkness.

During the Tengyu era, everyone knew of him.

Those he saved built shrines in his name.

His life blazed like the sun.

Until he turned seventeen.

The day the world learned he’d become a demon.

[I am but a common man, ignorant of why an immortal would fall.

Cloudwater County remembers his grace—how he saved us from beasts.

Yet the world knows only his demonhood. His temples were razed, his chronicles burned… All traces of him erased.

Now, none speak of the Little Immortal Lord. Only of the Demon Sovereign.

I recall that day on the cliff, when he drank and suddenly sighed, reciting:

“Green pines crown the burial mounds,
White stones fill the ravines.
Life between heaven and earth—
A traveler, fleeting as a dream.”

We, the people of Cloudwater, built this tomb. The beast he tamed guards it still.

These paintings, these words…

Are the last proof he once walked this world.]

Dazed, Yingran turned to the stele at the hall’s heart—

“Tomb of Xu Liling, the Hidden Immortal Lord.”

Xu Liling’s boot crushed Hongya Gong’s skull into the mud.

Blood sprayed.

The elder’s body twitched, his final act not an attack—but a scream hurled into the heavens.

Xu Liling let him.

The mist had already spread.

As Hongya Gong’s voice echoed, far away in the Cloud Continent’s Soul Hall, attendants watched his life-lamp flicker—

Then go out.

Hundreds of lamps had died tonight. No messages returned.

Now, even Hongya Gong was gone.

But in the lamp’s last spark, his voice thundered through the hall:

“THE DEMON SAINT—

XUAN YIN!”

Yingran traced the stele’s engraving.

“Here lies Xu Liling, the Hidden Immortal Lord.”