Chapter 36: Wrecking the House
Back at Luo Nianshang’s chamber, Bai Jingxue felt a pang of loneliness. The Demon Lord was gone, and she had taken the dog with her.
The cat sat by the entrance, sighing softly. She was a little lonely, just a little.
As soon as her sigh faded, another one joined it.
She turned to see Luo Nianshang crouching beside her.
The Sword Saint was a chatterbox when they were alone, so Bai Jingxue resigned herself to her role as a silent listener.
“Little White, why do you think she suddenly decided to go on a solo training journey?”
“Meow.”
“Do you think she took the dog with her to find the Demon Lord? I’m worried.”
“Meow?”
Bai Jingxue wanted to say, “There’s no need to worry. Your beloved disciple and the Demon Lord are the same person.”
But she couldn’t speak. The frustration was almost unbearable.
Luo Nianshang, her anxiety growing, suddenly had an epiphany. “She must be bored here,” she said, her eyes widening. “I need to recruit more disciples!”
Her expression brightened, as if she had stumbled upon a brilliant solution. “Yes! Two more disciples!”
Bai Jingxue stared at her, her eyes filled with alarm.
A socially awkward individual actively seeking out disciples? What had happened to her character development?
Bai Jingxue was baffled. Her cultivation practice for the day was complete. She felt tired and retreated to her bed.
She closed her eyes, enjoying the peace and quiet without Lü Qingyan’s presence.
“Jingxue, look! This radish is so cute!”
Bai Jingxue opened her eyes, looking around, but the white dog was nowhere to be found.
“Ugh, I’m hallucinating,” she thought, annoyed. “She’s not even here, and I can’t even get a decent nap.”
She closed her eyes again, settling down for a proper sleep.
“Jingxue! It’s snowing so hard!”
Bai Jingxue’s eyes flew open. She looked around, but the chamber was still empty.
This was ridiculous!
Was she truly that obsessed with the dog? Was she losing her mind?
She refused to acknowledge her longing for Lü Qingyan. She curled up in her bed, covering her ears with her paws, convinced that this would block out the phantom dog.
“Jingxue! Fu Yuan’s cooking is so good!”
“Argh!”
Bai Jingxue sat up, her heart pounding. She couldn’t escape Lü Qingyan, even in her own mind.
Sleep was impossible. She decided to visit Fu Yuan. She was curious to see how the disciple was coping with her newfound childcare duties.
She rubbed her eyes, abandoning her bed with a sigh.
As she approached Fu Yuan’s door, an object flew out, followed by Fu Yuan’s shriek. “My plate!”
Fu Yuan dashed out, catching the object before it shattered.
Bai Jingxue had never seen the usually gentle Fu Yuan so angry. “Both of you, stop it!” she shouted.
The sounds of playful laughter and crashing objects from within the room ceased.
Bai Jingxue quickly retreated, her paw that had been reaching for the doorknob withdrawing. She didn’t want to get involved in this chaos.
She suddenly felt bored. Everyone seemed to have something to do.
What could a little cat do? She felt lost.
Fate soon provided an answer. A rat sauntered past her, its movements bold and unconcerned.
It glanced at Bai Jingxue, then continued on its way, unafraid.
Bai Jingxue felt a surge of annoyance, as if she had been challenged. She wasn’t afraid of rats, but she had no desire to touch one.
But why was she even annoyed?
She spiraled into a pit of self-doubt and existential angst.
“I wonder how Qingyan is doing,” she sighed.
Meanwhile, at the Demon Palace, everything seemed normal from the outside. The palace was as grand and opulent as ever. But inside, it resembled a disaster zone.
A white whirlwind had swept through the palace, leaving a trail of destruction in its wake. Objects were broken, furniture overturned, and even the sturdiest surfaces bore the marks of dog claws.
“Oh no! Little ancestor, please stop wrecking the house!”
“Yes, please! Tell us what you want!”
“Lord Demon, please come back! The palace will be in ruins if you don’t!”
Their pleas only fueled Lü Qingyan’s rage. She dashed through the palace, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake, barking furiously at the demon cultivators chasing her.
“Woof! Woof! Woof!”
If only she could speak!
She wanted to see Jingxue! That damn Demon Lord!
The little white dog, tears streaming down her face, continued her rampage, occasionally howling mournfully, as if she were being tortured.
Despite her anger, she exercised some restraint, targeting only inexpensive objects. She didn’t want to end up as dog stew.
Her anger subsided, replaced by exhaustion. She retreated to her bed, collapsing onto it.
Why had the Demon Lord abandoned her role-playing escapade? And why had she brought Lü Qingyan back?
She drifted off to sleep, her heart filled with resentment.
The Demon Lord, returning to the palace, thought she had entered the wrong place. But the familiar faces of her attendants confirmed that she was indeed home.
Her eyes narrowed. “Who broke in?” she asked, her voice cold.
The attendants trembled, prostrating themselves before her, their heads bowed. “No one, Your Excellency,” they stammered. “It was your pet.”
The Demon Lord hadn’t realized the destructive power of an angry dog. She chuckled. “Good,” she said.
She made her way to her bedchamber, her gaze falling upon the small white bundle curled up in its bed.
She contemplated how to punish this audacious dog, to teach her a lesson about respect.
But the white bundle twitched, whimpering softly.
The Demon Lord’s brow furrowed. She approached cautiously, her footsteps silent. She crouched down, peering at the sleeping dog, and realized that it was crying.
Her heart softened. She thought of the chaos she had witnessed outside, then looked at the dog, its tears staining its fur.
She sighed. “What harm could a little dog possibly cause?”
She gently stroked the dog’s fur, her voice laced with affection. “You’ve forgotten where you belong.”
“Knock, knock.”
The Demon Lord’s smile vanished. “Enter,” she said.
The door creaked open, revealing a woman wearing a strange mask. The mask was pure white, only her eyes visible. A second pair of eyes had been painted beneath the real ones.
And the painted eyes moved.
This was the Demon Lord’s newly appointed left envoy. She was far more obedient than her predecessor.
She knelt on one knee, her voice respectful. “Your Excellency, we’ve lost control of Que City. All our agents have been eliminated.”
The Demon Lord settled onto her bed, her voice laced with amusement. “How did a mere mortal manage to achieve this?”
The left envoy hesitated, her brow furrowed. “According to the reports from our deceased agents, the previous city lord fell in love with the mortal,” she said. “She not only healed his injuries but also relinquished her position as city lord.”
She glanced at the Demon Lord, but her expression remained unchanged. The left envoy was impressed. She could never hope to achieve such composure.
Que City was a strategically important location. The Demon Realm was already resource-scarce, and the competition for those limited resources was fierce.
Que City, with its two spirit veins, was a valuable asset.
But there was another reason why Que City was so significant. Ever since the demon cultivators had been driven to this barren land, they had been constantly at war with each other. The first Demon Lord had unified the Demon Realm, bringing a semblance of order.
After her death, chaos had returned, followed by the rise of a second Demon Lord.
But both the first and second Demon Lords had launched their campaigns from Que City. For the demon cultivators, this city represented power and ambition.
The Demon Lord, seeing that her envoy had paused, gestured for her to continue, as if she were listening to a trivial tale.
The left envoy lowered her head. “They also claim that you are unworthy of the position of Demon Lord,” she said. “They believe they are the rightful rulers.”
The Demon Lord scoffed. “They’re playing the same game as the mortal empires?” she asked. “The divine right of kings? Let them come.”
“Your Excellency, should we send disciples to suppress Que City?”
The Demon Lord raised a hand, silencing her. “Let them play,” she said, her voice laced with amusement. “It wouldn’t be fun to crush them too quickly.”
“…Yes, Your Excellency. I will take my leave.”
“Wait.”
The Demon Lord’s expression turned serious. “I tasked you with monitoring the Sword Saint’s activities,” she said. “What is she doing?”
The left envoy, assuming the Demon Lord was simply keeping tabs on a rival, had been diligent in her duties. Her information was always up-to-date.
“I heard she’s planning to recruit two personal disciples,” she reported. “She will be personally overseeing the selection process.”
“What? She’s recruiting more disciples?”
The left envoy had never seen the Demon Lord so furious. She quickly prostrated herself. “Please calm down, Your Excellency!”
Calm down? How could she possibly calm down?
She had only been gone for a few days, and Luo Nianshang was already recruiting new disciples?
If it weren’t for her last shred of sanity, she would have stormed the Ejian Sect and demanded an explanation.
“Fine, let someone else be the Demon Lord,” she thought. “Let them deal with this mess!”
She forced a smile, her voice strained. “What kind of disciples is she looking for?”
The left envoy, her body trembling, her clothes soaked in cold sweat, replied, “She’s not looking for talent, Your Excellency. She wants disciples who are kind, gentle, and pure. Preferably, they should also be skilled in cooking.”
The Demon Lord couldn’t help but grind her teeth. “So that’s her type,” she said, her voice laced with bitterness.
She rubbed her temples, waving a hand dismissively. “You may leave.”
She fumed for a while, then thought of Fu Yuan, her imagination running wild.
She stewed in jealousy, her anger simmering until she could no longer bear it.
She paced her chamber, her gaze falling upon the sleeping dog. “Useless mutt,” she muttered. “All you do is sleep.”
She paused, then crouched down, gently pulling the blanket over Lü Qingyan.
She then stared at the portrait hanging on the wall, her expression darkening. “Hmph! What’s so great about being gentle?” she said, her voice filled with indignation. “I don’t need it!”
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