◎Yan Luoyue smiled silently, marveling at the brilliance of it all.◎
The next day, Yan Luoyue arrived at the academy as usual to attend classes.
Normally, the first lesson of the morning was a literature class, covering the principles of cultivation and the moral tenets that cultivators were expected to uphold.
But today, before the first lesson even began, a petite female cultivator with an adorable, doll-like face entered the classroom.
Yan Luoyue instantly recognized her—Feng Xiaoyuan, one of the instructors responsible for the Yuanzi class.
Feng Xiaoyuan walked briskly to the front and whispered something to the lecturer.
After hearing her, the lecturer nodded with understanding.
He glanced in Yan Luoyue’s direction, smiled, and yielded the class to Feng Xiaoyuan.
Huh? Was this related to her? Yan Luoyue blinked in slight confusion.
Feng Xiaoyuan cheerfully stepped to the center of the classroom and clapped her hands to gather everyone’s attention. With her sweet and playful appearance, a smile revealed deep dimples on both cheeks.
"Alright, today I’ve borrowed this class from Mr. Ma to talk to you all about demons and demonic seals."
Remembering the glance Mr. Ma had given her before leaving, combined with Feng Xiaoyuan’s mention of "demons," Yan Luoyue immediately understood—this impromptu lesson was indeed related to yesterday’s incident.
To draw a parallel to modern society, it was like a school holding a special safety assembly after hearing news of a fugitive in the area.
Feng Xiaoyuan didn’t resort to theatrics or deliver a dry history lecture. Instead, she cleverly introduced the topic with a thought-provoking question:
"Does anyone know why there are so many demonic cultivators in major sects across the human realm today?"
The question was intriguing, and Yan Luoyue found herself lost in thought.
Logically speaking, the cultivation world was composed of three realms: the human realm, the demon realm, and the demonic realm.
The three realms were arranged roughly in a triangular formation, connected by passages between them.
However, the passage between the human and demon realms was narrow and fraught with natural disasters, making travel difficult.
Before the "Demon Subjugation War," exchanges between the human and demon realms often relied on the demonic realm as a transit point.
But after the war, the human and demon realms joined forces to resist the demonic realm, sealing both entrances.
Without this convenient passage, travel between the human and demon realms became significantly harder.
Under such circumstances, one might expect demonic cultivators residing in the human realm to face discrimination and marginalization.
—From what Yan Luoyue knew, there were indeed idiots who treated demonic cultivators as mere beasts or pets.
Yet, in most sects of this world, demonic cultivators not only faced no discrimination but were even accepted as disciples. Some even became "heritage disciples," entrusted with safeguarding their sect’s most vital scriptures.
Logically, this seemed counterintuitive.
As she pondered, Yan Luoyue glanced at her classmates. Some looked just as puzzled as she was, while others—like Sang Ji—immediately lit up with realization.
Feng Xiaoyuan noticed Sang Ji’s expression and called on him.
"Sang Ji, what do you think?"
Sang Ji stood up with a lazy grin. "Because demonic cultivators have strong vitality, live longer, and reproduce more?"
"…"
For a moment, Yan Luoyue thought Sang Ji was just being cheeky in class.
Yet the next second, Feng Xiaoyuan nodded. "Exactly."
…Wait, was that really the reason?
It seemed that only fiction needed to adhere to logic—reality had no such obligation.
Feng Xiaoyuan didn’t smile. Her lips pressed together, and even her sweet, doll-like face turned solemn.
"Three thousand years ago, the demonic scourge erupted. The demonic race launched a full-scale invasion of the human and demon realms, leading to an alliance between humans and demons to resist them. History calls this—the Demon Subjugation War. It lasted a hundred and fifty years."
"At first, the alliance suffered crushing defeats. The demonic forces advanced unchecked, slaughtering countless humans and demons alike."
"By the fifty-eighth year, both races were on the verge of total defeat. It was then that they began exchanging large numbers of their finest disciples as a contingency plan."
According to Feng Xiaoyuan’s account, the exchange wasn’t about hostages but about preserving their civilizations.
At the most desperate moment, both sides had even prepared to break through the boundaries of their realms from opposite directions and flee into the unknown.
The vast, uncharted expanse beyond their realms held no guarantees—no one could predict what they would encounter or how long they would wander.
In anticipation of the worst, the demonic race sent disciples to join human sects and memorize their scriptures.
This was because demonic descendants typically lived longer, had stronger physiques, and reproduced in greater numbers.
Even if they faced millennia of exile, their descendants would have a better chance of survival.
They would carry the torch of history, preserving their knowledge and cultivation methods.
Meanwhile, humans joined demonic tribes because humans excelled in creativity and comprehension.
They mastered skills like artifact forging, alchemy, formations, talisman crafting, and medicine—ensuring the diversity and adaptability of their descendants.
This, too, was a measure to safeguard their civilization.
At that moment, the spirit of cultural preservation transcended racial boundaries, reaching its zenith.
Yan Luoyue listened with solemn reverence.
The reason demonic cultivators were appointed as heritage disciples turned out to be this—unexpected, even somewhat amusing at first glance.
But when traced back to its historical roots, it was anything but funny.
Imagining that dire moment, one couldn’t help but feel the weight of despair.
Feng Xiaoyuan said calmly, "Fortunately, that last stand ended in victory."
One victory led to another, giving humans and demons the breathing room to regain their footing.
Over the next few decades, they gradually turned the tide. In the end, at the cost of countless lives, they drove the demons back to their realm and sealed the passages.
Using this as her starting point, Feng Xiaoyuan smoothly transitioned into discussing the main types of demons.
During the Demon Subjugation War, humans and demons had suffered greatly before realizing that the demonic race had quietly evolved numerous variants.
One such variant was the "Matriarch Demon."
This creature was hermaphroditic, feeding on flesh and blood. The more it consumed, the more demons it could spawn.
Strangely enough, the offspring of a Matriarch Demon weren’t necessarily smaller Matriarch Demons.
They could be "Mud Burrowers," "Green Mane Demons," or "Rolling Storm Beasts," among countless others.
The type of fiend they spawn largely depends on what they consume.
During the Demon-Slaying War, nearly eighty percent of the fiends encountered by cultivators were birthed by these Heteromorphic Mothers.
There is another type of fiend that feeds on memories, known as "Puppet Masters."
They devour the memories of living beings, then weave puppet strings from their own essence to manipulate their victims like marionettes.
When a masterful Puppet Master controls their puppets, even the puppet’s own parents or spouse cannot detect anything amiss.
These fiends are so insidious that they once plunged the entire cultivation world into a frenzy of paranoia.
Several calamities incited by Puppet Masters sowed distrust between human and demon factions, sparking widespread suspicion of spies.
The third type of fiend absorbs a cultivator’s spiritual energy and attacks, only to unleash the stored power back upon their enemies—either in explosive bursts or other devastating forms.
Rumors speak of a fourth, exceedingly rare fiend that feasts on emotions, toying with its prey. But records of such creatures are scarce.
These four represent the most distinctive and uniquely dangerous fiends.
As for the rest, most resemble demonic beasts—either physically formidable or wielding terrifying magical abilities—nothing particularly extraordinary.
At this point, Feng Xiaoyuan paused, turning to hang a painting on the wall.
The portrait depicted a fiend with a ghastly green face, protruding fangs, and unnaturally large eyes—an eerily familiar image.
Yan Luoyue racked her memory before recalling she’d seen this very painting during the Elite Gathering.
A red jade slip on the announcement board had once displayed a wanted notice for an escaped fiend, bearing this exact likeness.
Only now, after Feng Xiaoyuan’s lecture, did Yan Luoyue realize this was the so-called Heteromorphic Mother.
Feng Xiaoyuan spoke gravely: "We suspect this fiend has recently been lurking near Yunning Marsh. If anyone spots it, do not engage. Report it immediately to the clan elders or to us instructors."
"Above all, never forget this principle—"
Before she could finish, the class chorused in unison—all except Yan Luoyue, who was too young to have heard it before:
**"—Leave no fiend alive!"**
"Exactly so." Feng Xiaoyuan sighed softly. "Class dismissed."
Shortly after Feng Xiaoyuan left, Yan Luoyue hurried after her.
Hearing the light, rapid footsteps, Feng Xiaoyuan turned and bent slightly, meeting Yan Luoyue’s gaze.
"Luoyue? What is it?"
Yan Luoyue looked up, wide-eyed. "Instructor, did you go search for those two fiends in Chunzhuo Mountain yesterday? Did you find them?"
She still had Xiao Ming’s reservoir stake embedded in one of the fiend corpses.
Feng Xiaoyuan frowned slightly and shook her head.
"I’m sorry, we didn’t locate the fiends you mentioned."
As if to soften the blow, she quickly added, "We believe you, but someone must have found and removed the corpses before we arrived. They left in a hurry—didn’t even clean up properly..."
Trailing off, Feng Xiaoyuan seemed to realize she’d said too much. She smiled and patted Yan Luoyue’s head affectionately.
"Go back to class now. We’ll keep you safe."
"Wait!" Yan Luoyue called out again. "Instructor Feng, you showed that wanted notice today because those two fiends were spawned by the one in the poster, weren’t they?"
After a brief hesitation, Feng Xiaoyuan nodded.
"That’s our theory."
Watching Feng Xiaoyuan walk away, Yan Luoyue’s mind wandered.
Call it intuition or bias, but the shadow of the Lu Family surfaced in her thoughts once more.
Feng Xiaoyuan had said the traits of what a Heteromorphic Mother consumed manifested in its offspring.
The Lu Family had been secretly stockpiling poisons, and those two lynx fiends were venomous.
Even that little green snake—its paralyzing gaze likely carried toxicity too.
After some thought, Yan Luoyue decided to share her suspicions with Jiang Tingbai.
After all, Jiang Tingbai once boasted he could split the Lu Family’s estate into eight pieces with a single sword stroke. Tracing the fiends’ origins should be no trouble for him.
But upon entering the office, before she could speak, a sobbing, bruised, and swollen face barged in abruptly.
Yan Luoyue startled.
It took her a moment to recognize the blubbering meatball now throwing himself at Jiang Tingbai’s feet—Brother Tang.
Only then did Yan Luoyue grasp how brutally Sang Ji and Yan Gan had beaten him.
Because now, Brother Tang was so thoroughly plucked, not even a single nose hair remained!
Yan Luoyue: "..."
Yan Gan was one thing, but had Sang Ji worked as a poultry plucker in the clan? His technique was alarmingly efficient.
She’d already heard Brother Tang’s punishment:
First, the classic summoning of parents.
The instructors had unanimously voted to expel him from the academy.
For something this severe, even by modern standards, parental presence was mandatory.
Second, his cultivation—painstakingly advanced to mid-stage Qi Refining—was forcibly regressed to beginner-level, where he’d started.
As Mr. Dong put it: "A wolfish heart, rotten wood unfit for carving."
This draconian measure severed all ties between the academy and Brother Tang.
Finally, the academy posted a formal notice on the announcement board via a blue jade slip.
It declared Brother Tang an outcast—narrow-minded, vicious, unfit for cultivation, and permanently disowned.
The academy operated under the prestigious Guiyuan Sect. This edict effectively blacklisted him from any reputable sect.
In other words, his best future now was menial clan labor.
Clearly, Brother Tang and his family understood the gravity of this.
Hence the all-night parental beating and his current tearful, snot-smeared state.
"Instructor," Brother Tang wailed, "Jiang-xiansheng, please show mercy! I was just roughhousing with little Luoyue—I didn’t mean to hurt her!"
Yan Luoyue: "Ugh, how can you say that with a straight face?"
That "little Luoyue" made her skin crawl.
Brother Tang wiped his dripping face and sniffled, scrambling for another excuse.
"Didn't Sang Ji also play a joke on the little ones back then? Why can't the school treat us the same way?"
Hearing this, as the little one involved, Yan Luoyue cast a cold glance at Brother Tang.
—Sang Ji was just a reckless teenager who didn’t know his limits, but he meant no real harm.
If Yan Luoyue’s health bar hadn’t been uncommonly short, she would’ve only ended up with a bruised bottom.
But Brother Tang…
Yan Luoyue studied his pitifully aggrieved face with amusement, realizing this guy truly had no self-awareness at all.
Clearly, Jiang Tingbai had no intention of indulging Brother Tang’s excuses.
His lashes lowered slightly, a faint glint of silver sword light flashing in his eyes.
The next moment, an overwhelming pressure descended upon Brother Tang’s back, its icy force sending him crashing to his knees with a thud.
That day, Brother Tang was once again reminded of the terror of being forced back into his true form by Jiang Tingbai.
Trembling and stammering, he cried out, "S-Sir!"
Jiang Tingbai asked coolly, "Why have you come here?"
Brother Tang wailed miserably, "Please, Sir! You can make the school revoke the notice—I know you can!"
"Once this notice is issued, I’ll be scorned by all of Yunning Marsh, even the entire Central Plains. But I still want to study abroad!"
Jiang Tingbai shook his head, his eyes filled with deep disappointment.
He said, "To the far north lies the Snow Domain, to the far south the Hongtong Palace, and to the far west the Temple of Sacred Chants. If your heart is truly set on the path, no hardship can stop you."
"But if you lack sincerity, all you’ll do is flatter the powerful, bully the weak, and casually discard the lives of children—all while taking pride in it!"
He slightly emphasized the last few words.
Instantly, the terrified and guilt-ridden Brother Tang shuddered violently.
He reverted to his true form—a featherless wild chicken.
Brother Tang squawked in panic, "Cluck cluck! Cluck cluck!"
Yan Luoyue: "…"
She pinched the bridge of her nose, enduring the noise for a moment.
Then, without hesitation, she grabbed a thin grass rope Jiang Tingbai had been weaving and rushed forward to wrap it around the chicken’s beak.
"Sir, I’ll repay you for using your rope later."
"No need," Jiang Tingbai said wistfully. "I just plucked this wild grass from the school’s backyard and twisted it myself…"
…………
Only after escorting Brother Tang outside and hearing his dragged-away footsteps fade into the distance did Yan Luoyue turn back to Jiang Tingbai with a smile.
She remarked sincerely, "Sir, you’re too kind. Even at the end, you still tried to teach him a lesson."
Jiang Tingbai shook his head, lightly dusting his robe.
"If he understood that I was teaching him, then I truly did. If not, all he learned today was how to kneel."
"That’s still a new skill," Yan Luoyue said earnestly. "Before today, I’d never seen a chicken kneel before."
Jiang Tingbai: "…"
His student was undoubtedly adorable, though her way of thinking often highlighted the cultural gap between humans and demons.
Cutting off her tangent, Jiang Tingbai reminded her, "What did you come to see me for?"
Yan Luoyue snapped back to attention and eagerly recounted the details regarding the Lu Family.
"The Lu Family…" Jiang Tingbai mused. "I understand. We’ll investigate."
Yan Luoyue subtly stoked the flames.
"That sword technique of yours—the one that could split the Lu Family into eight pieces with a single strike…!"
Jiang Tingbai smiled helplessly. "Without evidence, I can’t do that."
Still reluctant, Yan Luoyue pressed, "What about using… expedient methods to check if the Lu Family is harboring demons? Surely that’s acceptable?"
Jiang Tingbai considered for a moment, then motioned for Yan Luoyue to sit across from him and began lecturing seriously.
"Investigating whether the Lu Family shelters demons is permissible. ‘Expedient methods’ are not."
He stressed the word "expedient," clearly grasping her implication.
Before the girl could look too disappointed, Jiang Tingbai spoke calmly.
"The foundation of any order lies in most people’s willingness to ‘follow rules’ and ‘reason fairly.’"
"If I break into the Lu Family’s estate today on suspicion of hiding demons, could I not do the same tomorrow to the Li Family, the Wang Family, and so on? If I find no demons but instead uncover their secret cultivation techniques, how should that be judged? And in the entire cultivation world, who could vouch for my absolute impartiality?"
Precisely because his sword could shatter all techniques, Jiang Tingbai could not wield it lightly.
His sword intent was powerful enough to destroy anything effortlessly.
Yet it was also merciful enough to remind him how difficult reconstruction would be afterward.
After this speech, Yan Luoyue nodded in understanding.
"Understood, Sir. You value both substantive justice and procedural justice."
However, Yan Luoyue’s moral standards weren’t quite as lofty.
Not that she planned to do anything outright wicked.
But crafting a compass specifically to track her pet snake—that was perfectly normal, right?
And if, by some coincidence, it led her straight to the Lu Family… well, that couldn’t be helped, could it?
Meanwhile, in the study of the Lu Family’s Young Master, a conversation about demons was unfolding.
The Chief Cultivator stood respectfully before Lu Jindu.
At his feet lay the corpses of two demons—one red, one purple—the same hairless lynxes Yan Luoyue had encountered in the cave earlier.
Bowing deeply, the Chief Cultivator reported,
"Young Master, the two escaped demons have been retrieved."
Lu Jindu nodded indifferently to acknowledge the news.
"Were all loose ends tied up?"
His tone was calm, trusting his subordinate’s competence.
To anyone but the Chief Cultivator, the phrase "tied up" would have sounded routine.
Only he could detect the bloody subtext—the implicit order to silence every witness.
After a hesitant pause, the Chief Cultivator replied in a low voice,
"Someone killed these two demons before we arrived… and reported it to the Guiyuan Sect’s academy."
"When my men went to clean up, Guiyuan Sect disciples were already on their way. Since the sect knows, I didn’t dare leave traces."
"What? How did the Guiyuan Sect find out?" Lu Jindu finally showed surprise. "Wait—you said the demons were already dead when you got there?"
"Yes. Look—there’s a hairpin in the wounds. I suspect it’s a forged artifact."
The Chief Cultivator bent down, exposing the demons’ injuries to Lu Jindu.
As the stiff fur parted, the reek of congealed blood assaulted their senses.
Lu Jindu frowned in disgust. Yet that brief glance was enough for him to spot the wooden hairpin embedded deep in the lynx’s wound.
Without saying a word, he merely pointed at the pin, and the Chief Cultivator promptly extracted it, cleaned it, and presented it to Lu Jindu.
Holding the pin disdainfully between his fingertips, Lu Jindu gave it a cursory glance before curling his lip.
“A trivial trinket with minor benefits for qi and blood. No doubt the work of some third-rate artificer.”
The Chief Cultivator pressed eagerly, “Then, in your esteemed opinion, does this hairpin’s craftsmanship resemble that of the grasshopper brat’s storage pouches? Could they be made by the same person?”
Lu Jindu leaned back as if to spare his eyes, giving the pin another perfunctory look.
“No,” he answered offhandedly. “Those storage pouches were mechanical and soulless, but at least passably made. This hairpin, however, is pure rubbish, not worth mentioning… They’re bad in different ways—definitely not the same maker.”
Hearing this, the Chief Cultivator visibly relaxed.
Earlier, while inspecting the demon carcass in the poorly ventilated cave, he had caught a whiff of an all-too-familiar, acrid stench.
It was a smell… a smell… one he’d never forget for the rest of his life—the stench of humiliation!
That was why he’d specifically brought the hairpin to Lu Jindu for appraisal—to ensure that damned grasshopper brat wasn’t involved again.
Now, with Young Master Lu’s personal confirmation, the Chief Cultivator’s tension eased.
The young master might be hot-headed and lacking in worldly experience, but when it came to artificing, he was a rare genius who had never erred.
If that grasshopper brat was even half-decent as an artificer, he wouldn’t be using someone else’s shoddy hairpin to tie his hair.
Smiling, the Chief Cultivator said, “As expected of Young Master’s discerning eye. That wretch may have lucked out slaying the demon, but he’s clearly no real threat. Resorting to such a pitiful hairpin suggests he was pushed to his limits.”
As he spoke, he took the hairpin back, giving the plain wooden pin an extra glance.
Suddenly, he froze.
Strange… Why did this hairpin seem familiar? Had he seen it somewhere before?
Frowning, the Chief Cultivator combed through his memories but couldn’t place it.
“…Old Lu! Old Lu!”
It was only when Young Master Lu raised his voice that the Chief Cultivator snapped out of his daze.
Lu Jindu frowned. “What’s wrong with you? I called you several times.”
The Chief Cultivator hurriedly replied, “Ah, my apologies. This subordinate merely felt the hairpin looked familiar… Did Young Master have orders?”
Lu Jindu waved a hand. “Nothing urgent. Just keep an eye on the Guiyuan Sect’s movements.”
“Understood.”
Bowing, the Chief Cultivator withdrew from the young master’s study, still clutching the hairpin.
No matter how hard he racked his brain, he couldn’t recall its owner.
But if it looked familiar, he must have seen it before.
Combined with its presence in the demon’s corpse and that unmistakable stench in the cave…
Heh. Whoever obtained intel on the Lu Family’s escaped demon was either a spy from a rival faction or an ambitious traitor within their ranks.
As for the stench…
Tch. Someone must have uncovered “Yan Erzha’s” true identity but chose to betray their master and collaborate with him.
That stink bomb was likely a reward from the grasshopper brat.
A cold smirk tugged at the Chief Cultivator’s lips, his eyes flashing with ruthless intent.
After a moment’s contemplation, he did something utterly unexpected.
Had Yan Luoyue witnessed this, she would have smiled silently, marveling at the sheer brilliance of the move—one so memorable she’d still be framing it as a masterpiece twenty years later.
Because the Chief Cultivator, with his own hands, stuck Xiaoming’s Reservoir into his own hair bun.
—And Xiaoming’s Reservoir, as an artifact that both restored and drained health, siphoned 10% of the wearer’s max HP every ten minutes!
At this moment, the Chief Cultivator thought coldly: *Let’s see which loyal subordinate flinches at the sight of this hairpin.*
Whoever dared betray the Lu Family and use this pin to kill the demon…
Should be prepared to die by it too!
“Wait.” Lu Jindu suddenly called out to his ever-loyal subordinate.
Bewildered, he asked, “Why are you bleeding from your nose?”
The Chief Cultivator: “…What?”
……
Only after watching the Chief Cultivator leave did Lu Jindu trigger the mechanism beneath his desk.
With a series of mechanical clicks, a three-foot-square entrance materialized in the wall behind him.
The passage led to an underground chamber. Before he’d even descended the final steps, a thick, metallic stench of blood and fetal decay assaulted his senses.
Adjusting his expression, Lu Jindu descended gracefully, one hand tucked behind his back.
At the heart of the chamber, a massive, green-skinned demon with jagged tusks lounged atop opulent silks.
Its belly bulged grotesquely, its swollen, purplish-red teats straining against paper-thin skin, veins bulging like gnarled roots.
Even the dullest student fresh from class could identify it at a glance—this was the very demon from the wanted posters!
A Motherfiend!
“…How are you feeling today?” Lu Jindu inquired politely, forcing a smile.
Had the Chief Cultivator been present, he’d have been stunned by his young master’s cordial tone.
The Motherfiend rolled halfway onto its side, its voice like nails screeching across slate—a sound so grating it made ears itch.
“What do *you* think?” it rasped.
As it spoke, it splayed its sickle-like, barbed limbs and—right before Lu Jindu’s eyes—birthed two fist-sized demon spawn.
The Young Master Lu’s eyes lit up at the sight.
With practiced elegance, he gathered the newborns, strangled them bare-handed, and swiftly stored the fresh corpses in his pouch.
Yet no amount of poise could mask his eagerness.
The Motherfiend let out a cackle, its shrill voice twisting into a grotesque parody of maternal warmth.
“There we go. You feed me, I feed you. Eat my children, grow stronger—bliss like immortality, no?”
Its tone and words felt like something inhuman crammed into a human shell, unsettling beyond measure.
Yet Lu Jindu actually chuckled in agreement.
“As you say. Now… will you be consuming *that* today?”
Following Young Master Lu's pointed finger, one could see a cage placed in the corner of the secret chamber.
The bars of the cage were tightly spaced, requiring great effort to squint through the dim candlelight and discern the coiled little snake inside.
The serpent’s body bore an emerald-green hue, barely concealed beneath layers of grime and dried blood.
The Heteromorph Demon snorted, whether in pride or irritation, it was unclear.
"Soon. As long as you provide me with more toxins, I’ll devour it in no time."
Lu Jindu quickly replied, "Naturally."
The Heteromorph Demon’s eyes flickered, then it arrogantly commanded, "Go ask it—has it reconsidered cooperation yet?"
Though small, the green snake was lethally venomous.
The Heteromorph Demon couldn’t bear to consume such a delicacy all at once.
Despite being a demon, it vaguely understood the concept of sustainability.
For instance, keeping the serpent captive, persuading it to willingly offer scales and flesh periodically—wouldn’t that be far more ideal?
Lu Jindu, though deferential to the demon, was no fool.
He paused deliberately before smiling and asking,
"After its recent capture, the seals on it loosened slightly, allowing it to speak a little... Haven’t you already spoken to it?"
At this question, the Heteromorph Demon let out a long, disdainful snort through all eight of its orifices—nostrils and the back of its skull included.
It stretched out a sickle-like hooked leg, sprouting another demonic head, and viciously kicked the cage.
"I did speak to it. But look how it replied!"
The cage rattled, startling the badly wounded green snake awake.
Without even opening its eyes, it uttered human words in a manner both practiced and clumsy.
The familiarity suggested this exchange had happened many times before in the chamber.
The clumsiness stemmed from how long it had been since the serpent last spoke, its articulation still rusty.
The little green snake said, "Damn your ancestors, screw your granny’s legs."
The Heteromorph Demon: "..."
Lu Jindu: "..."
To be frank, these weren’t just words—they were curses.
Maintaining a composed smile, Lu Jindu stepped forward and bent slightly at the waist, as if humoring a misbehaving child.
Beneath the serpent’s coiled body lay something indistinct—at first glance, mere tattered cotton.
Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be a ribbon-adorned pom-pom, its original color long lost beneath layers of the snake’s blood and filth.
Lu Jindu mused, then coaxed in a tone reserved for wayward spirits, "Toys like this—if you agree to become a donor, you’ll have as many as you desire."
"If... you... could... cooperate..."
Abruptly, his words faltered.
The stiffness in his voice wasn’t for dramatic effect—it was because, gods damn it, the snake had opened its eyes and was staring straight at him!
The serpent’s pitch-black eyes, deep as midnight, held an inexplicable power. Lu Jindu’s body seized with intermittent paralysis, his speech stuttering uncontrollably.
Flushed with humiliation, he kicked the cage and stormed off.
"If you’re determined to die, I won’t stop you!"
As he passed the Heteromorph Demon, the creature had just birthed another offspring.
This newborn demon wasn’t a round mass like those meant for Lu Jindu—it resembled a hairless lynx.
With a lazy stretch, the Heteromorph Demon wrenched the little demon’s head off, folded its limbs haphazardly, and swallowed it whole without chewing.
Lu Jindu warned, voice edged with severity, "The Guiyuan Sect has caught wind of disturbances. Best be cautious—consume what you must, and don’t let them escape."
"Understood," the demon replied irritably, flicking its tail. "Useless spawn like this waste the toxins I’ve stockpiled. Bring me more poisons, and your rewards won’t be lacking."
"Patience. I’m searching."
As Lu Jindu’s figure vanished from the chamber, the Heteromorph Demon extended a hooked claw, rattling the cage mockingly.
Its tone was teasing, like an otter toying with doomed prey.
"They say serpents have an instinct—measuring prey by length, judging threats by scent. Do you?"
The green snake ignored it.
This time, not even a curse left its lips.
Inside the cage, the serpent flicked its tongue.
It carefully coiled around the discolored pom-pom, lowered its petite head slightly, and went still.
Many, many years later, a curious tale would spread across the land:
Whenever that serpent bowed its head, its shy, almost humble smile concealed a cryptic retort.
Like... right now.
—Guess?
—Do you believe I can match you?
