After Marrying the Disabled Demon Lord as a Substitute, I Ran Away with His Child - Chapter 52

Chapter 52

Zuo Siqiu settled the troublemakers and nodded with satisfaction at the flourishing scene within the Mustard Seed space.

This is what repaying a life-saving debt should look like.

After handling these affairs, she finally had time to rest. She hadn’t slept well in days. She and Zuo Mudong usually occupied separate rooms; though her sister had watched over her for two days, Siqiu had eventually shooed her away out of concern for her sister’s own exhaustion. The moment her head hit the pillow, drowsiness washed over her, and she fell into a deep slumber.

She had no idea that after she fell asleep, Xuan Mo appeared by her bedside.

Xuan Mo had watched Zuo Siqiu sleep many times. To kill her now to end her life in that final instant of startled awakening would surely allow him to savor her last moments of terror, shock, and regret. If he slowed down her death at the critical moment, he might even see her weep and beg to return to the Xuan Cloud Sect.

Xuan Mo leaned over slightly, his pale, well-defined right hand forming a claw-like shape hovering just above her slender neck.

Time passed, yet he made no move. He lowered his gaze, his long lashes concealing his expression as his eyes remained fixed on her throat for a long while. Eventually, he straightened up and withdrew his hand.

“If I let you die this easily, it would be too cheap for you.”

Leaving those words behind, he watched her roll over in her sleep before he stormed out of the room, fueled by a strange irritation, and stood upon the roof of her house. His anger felt peculiar; he didn’t even know why he was so incensed.

…

Zuo Siqiu remained oblivious to the fact that someone had contemplated her murder during the night. She became busier than ever. The soul puppets, feeling that using their lifelong cultivation to repay her was the right path, worked much harder than before.

Zuo Mudong’s trips to the black market increased in frequency to buy materials for the soul cultivators. Since they lacked physical bodies, refining pills and artifacts was difficult, but they gave it their all. Soon, Mudong was overwhelmed by the dual tasks of buying supplies and selling their products.

A white-bearded soul elder suggested, “We can help Mudong. Although we cannot trade directly, we can gather information and find buyers. She only needs to handle the final transaction.”

Zuo Siqiu mused that this was like giving her sister a team of assistants a great idea. The elder added, “Qiuqiu, since you’ve learned soul-binding restrictions, you can bind our souls to ensure we don’t flee.”

For others, Siqiu might have done so, but these people had been grateful and kind. She wasn’t afraid of them leaving. If souls like them left her space without a safe haven, they would easily be captured and enslaved again. Besides, she felt a subtle connection to them; if they left, she could find them by focusing her intent. Thus, she placed no restrictions on them.

They proved their honesty by helping Mudong significantly.

Meanwhile, Xuan Mo’s face grew darker by the day. He had intended to kill her, or perhaps appear suddenly to terrify her before dragging her back for punishment. But despite rehearsing it a thousand times, every time he saw her smile or act charmingly toward others, he thought: Wait a little longer. Let her live a few more days.

This wait led to a shocking revelation.

One day, out of boredom, he followed the soul cultivators to the black market. The souls split up to gather info. After the others left, one asked the white-bearded elder, “Any word from the Long Family?”

“We’ll check their outpost today,” the elder replied. “If there’s no reply, we wait. Zuo Siqiu hasn’t noticed anything; we just keep playing our parts.”

The elder laughed. “She’s just an innocent brat. All she cares about is the little brat in her belly. We just need to wait for our chance.”

Xuan Mo, eavesdropping, immediately realized they were planning to use the Long Family to defect. He was about to kill these traitors for her when the elder’s last words hit him like a lightning bolt.

The little brat in her belly?

Zuo Siqiu was pregnant?

Images flooded his mind the nights she had clung to him relentlessly. He had never considered that he could have a child with her. In a flash, he found a reason to let her live. She was carrying his child; he couldn’t kill his own offspring. He would spare her until the child was born. Moreover, for the child’s safety, he needed to protect her… or rather, the “brat” inside her.

He thought of how she slandered him to her sister. He sneered. If I appear now and say I’m protecting the baby, how will she spin that story? For the sake of the child, he decided to plan carefully. He stopped following the traitors and returned to the small house.

…

The two traitors finally received word from the Long Family. “My descendants will send people to fetch us in a few days,” the elder gloated.

“Siqiu won’t let us go easily,” the other worried.

“We have many allies now,” the elder dismissed. “What can a Golden Core girl do? Our recent work is enough to repay her ‘mercy’.”

Zuo Siqiu knew nothing of this. She was immersed in the joy of making money. Her low-grade Grade-1 pills used cheap materials that were practically free, and she could refine thousands at a time. It was pure profit. Between her pills and the production line of the soul puppets, her pockets were getting heavy, and Mudong had even found leads on materials to refine physical bodies.

Because Mudong was so busy, Siqiu, craving snacks for the baby — went out to the city’s east side to buy flatbread herself. Walking along, she poked her belly. “You’re so greedy for bread. Don’t grow up with a face as round as a pancake! A pancake face won’t look good on a girl.”

She already knew it was a girl through her divine sense. As a cultivator, her body didn’t show the pregnancy much; she remained slender even as the child grew in her Dantian.

She didn’t notice that despite her plain disguise, a noble young master was staring at her. The flatbread shop was famous, and Siqiu joined the end of the long queue. Eventually, she felt the man’s gaze and turned.

He was a refined gentleman in white, holding a folding fan the embodiment of “gentle as jade.” Seeing her look, he didn’t look away, but nodded gracefully. “Miss, you look familiar. Have we met before?”

This routine? This dialogue? Siqiu wondered if she had wandered into a different genre—the “Cinderella” or “Meteor Garden” of the cultivation world.

She replied coldly, “You’re mistaken. I don’t know you.” She moved forward in line, her mind only on the bread.

The gentleman stiffened, then followed her. “But you truly look familiar. Have you lost your memory?”

Now we’re in a K-drama? she thought. The amnesia trope is so cliché.

The gentleman became impatient. “Why don’t you answer? We are clearly acquaintances!”

Now it’s ‘The Prince’s Runaway Bride’?

Finally, it was her turn. The shopkeeper recognized her bright smile. “Two flatbreads again?”

Siqiu nodded, handing over copper coins. “Yes! Please char them slightly; I love the crispy crust.”

“You got it!”

Siqiu skipped away happily, ignoring the “noble master.” The gentleman’s face darkened the moment she turned. He watched as she passed a stray dog, patted its head, and shared half her bread with it.

The gentleman sneered inwardly.