After Provoking the Mad Beautiful Deity - Chapter 24

Getting Married.

The Demon Clan was bloodthirsty and ruthless, lacking the sense of benevolence and order found among the Celestial Tribe. The Demon Sovereign was even more unreasonable—violent and devoid of virtue. Striking now, while she was weakened, was the best opportunity. If the Sovereign died, the demons would be leaderless, and their extermination would be within reach.

Si Ming was desperate to act. She summoned a sword that whistled through the air, but just as it was about to pierce Hongchen’s body, a burst of light shielded her. Si Ming gasped; the Bodhi bracelet had blocked the fatal strike.

As the artifact settled by Hongchen’s pillow, Yan Lai, who had been silent, let out a soft laugh. Si Ming was fuming. “You’re laughing? I recall this being your magical artifact!”

“What if it is?” Yan Lai held the pills in her hand, her lips parting slightly as she exhaled a slow breath. “I didn’t stop you. If you can’t kill her even then, what’s the point of talking about a sneak attack?”

Si Ming began to examine the object by the pillow. Bodhi was an item of Buddhist divinity; there were only a handful in existence. Aside from the long-fallen Bodhi Ancestor, there was only the Goddess of Fire, Princess Qing Gu. As she looked closer, she asked, “Where did you get this? What is its spirit?”

“Its spirit is Princess Qing Gu,” Yan Lai said lazily, toying with a pill.

“Princess Qing Gu? Is she not dead?” Si Ming realized the source of the sudden chill. She instinctively reached for the bracelet, but it flew toward Yan Lai and settled obediently on her wrist.

Si Ming stood frozen. “Why would Princess Qing Gu become a mere artifact spirit?” Qing Gu had been the most illustrious figure ten thousand years ago—a royal daughter with peerless talent who became the Fire God at a young age. Back then, Si Ming was a mere low immortal, not even qualified to admire her from afar. Now, the princess had no body left.

Si Ming sighed while Yan Lai lowered her gaze, her thumb stroking the beads with careful tenderness.

“She is of the Celestial Tribe,” Si Ming noted. “Why would she stop me from killing the Demon Sovereign?”

“Perhaps she is simply protecting her sister,” Yan Lai replied, raising an eyebrow. Qing Gu had guarded Hongchen for ten thousand years; their bond was clearly deep. If even Si Ming couldn’t break through, Yan Lai suspected that if she were to strike, Qing Gu would interfere as well.

Sisters? Si Ming felt as though her head might explode. She was young and lacked experience, but she knew many secrets. She knew which goddesses loved Prince Qing Feng and about Princess Yu Ling’s crush on her cousin. But no one had ever whispered that the Demon Sovereign was Qing Gu’s sister.

Was this the Heavenly Emperor’s infidelity, or had the Heavenly Empress betrayed him?

The two women locked eyes. Yan Lai said candidly, “The day the tiger startled me, Princess Qing Gu appeared to block it. She only said that Hongchen was her sister and nothing more.”

Si Ming rubbed her face, her gossip-loving heart racing. “So, do you think it’s the Emperor’s fault or the Empress’s?”

“If she is the Emperor’s daughter, then he is the one at fault for trysting with a demon,” Si Ming theorized excitedly. “But if it’s the Empress’s fault… if the Empress had a lover? Think about how scandalous that would be!”

Yan Lai pressed a hand to her forehead. “Just because Hongchen is a demon doesn’t mean her mother was one.”

“Fair point,” Si Ming paused, then beamed. “But don’t you find this thrilling?”

“Are you not going to kill the Demon Sovereign anymore?” Yan Lai asked, nearly dragged into the gutter of palace gossip. The Celestial family’s drama was none of her business.

Si Ming was snapped back to reality and sighed. “I want to, but I can’t.”

Yan Lai smiled. If Hongchen heard that, she would probably jump for joy. Yan Lai ignored her friend, swallowed a pill, and looked at the monster core that still needed to be refined. She turned to Hongchen, who was still asleep. “Cast a spell and check what Hongchen’s true form is.”

“True form? Isn’t she just a beast?” Si Ming asked. She flicked her fingers, sending a green light into Hongchen’s chest. When she pulled back, her face was a mask of disbelief. “She… she isn’t a beast. She is…”

“What is she?” Yan Lai frowned. She already had a suspicion. If pills were useless on Hongchen, it meant Hongchen herself was a medicinal herb. One who is the source of healing has no use for outside medicine.

Si Ming took a sharp breath. “Her mother is of the Flower Clan… Is it the Heavenly Empress?”

Yan Lai shook her head. “If she were the Empress’s child, she wouldn’t be a secret. I suspect the Empress doesn’t even know she exists. Or perhaps her very birth was a conspiracy. Medicine is the source of all healing; she is the ultimate cure.”

“I see. She was born to save someone,” Si Ming mused, her eyes sparkling. “What a massive secret! This is getting good.”

Yan Lai handed her a nourishing pill. “Keep your mouth shut.”

Hongchen woke up half a day later. She immediately turned to Yan Lai. “Give me the monster core. I’ll heal your injuries.”

Yan Lai handed it over and asked, “How many lies did you tell the first time we met?”

“Lies? I lie every day. Which instance are you referring to?” Hongchen was perfectly candid, showing no embarrassment at being caught.

Yan Lai was stunned by her thick skin. “Do you have no shame?”

“What use is shame?” Hongchen gripped the monster core, her spiritual energy slowly enveloping it.

The pressure was so great that Si Ming, in the outer room, was nearly sucked in. She had to cast a counter-spell to resist. Hongchen’s power was so vast that it began to leak into the room, turning the core into a gentle rain of energy that bathed Yan Lai. Yan Lai closed her eyes, feeling the warmth mend her wounds.

When Hongchen finished, Si Ming was coughing up blood from the strain. Hongchen didn’t miss the chance to mock her. “For a Fate Master, you’re quite weak. I could kill a dozen like you with one palm.”

Si Ming stayed silent, forced to swallow the insult due to the power gap.

While Yan Lai meditated, Hongchen stepped outside. The palace was now surrounded by guards—the Emperor was moving against the Empress. “Dog Emperor,” Hongchen cursed.

She went to see the Empress and found her elegantly brewing tea. “You’re here,” the Empress smiled, placing a cup before her.

“Are you not afraid?” Hongchen asked.

“No. I was waiting for you.”

Hongchen sat down and sipped the tea. It was bitter at first but left a fragrant aftertaste. “It smells wonderful,” she noted.

“A moment ago,” the Empress smiled, “were you thinking of taking some leaves back for Lady Yan to taste?”

Hongchen was startled. “How did you know?”

“I have the same heart,” the Empress laughed. “When I find something good, I think of the Noble Consort. This is love—always remembering.”

Hongchen touched her heart, confused. Love? Did she have that? She just wanted to pair with Yan Lai; everything else was secondary. Seeing the girl’s confusion, the Empress whispered, “I suspect you have never tasted the true joys of intimacy.”

Hongchen’s lips twitched. In the Empress’s gentle gaze, she felt herself losing her bearings. “What does it taste like?”

“You must experience it to know. I cannot tell you,” the Empress replied, hiding her face behind her sleeve with her usual elegance.

Hongchen propped her chin on her hand. She had never understood romance, but the Empress had piqued her interest. “The knife is at your neck, yet you have time to talk to me about this?”

“Would crying solve my problems?”

Hongchen sighed. “I suppose not.” She thought for a moment. “Can we do it tomorrow?”

The Empress agreed. As Hongchen prepared to leave, she asked one more question: “How does one… ‘consort’?”

The Empress gave her a mischievous look that made Hongchen shiver. “Don’t look at me like that; it’s scary.”

“Lady Yan will surely know,” the Empress teased.

“She’s a monster made of ice,” Hongchen scoffed. “How could she know?”

“Go try and see.”

Hongchen returned to her quarters and sent a message to her disciples: Come quickly to observe a ceremony.

She walked in to find Yan Lai playing chess against herself. Hongchen walked up and asked bluntly, “Do you know how to consort?”

Clack.

The white jade chess piece hit the board as Yan Lai froze like a statue. It was happening again—the “tiger-and-wolf” words of the Demon Sovereign.

Yan Lai regained her senses and glared at her. “The Empress said you would know, so I came to ask,” Hongchen said fearlessly.

“The Empress?” Yan Lai immediately doubted Hongchen’s claim. “I do not know.”

“You’ve lived for tens of thousands of years. How could you not know such mortal matters?”

“Phoenix Mountain is a pure place,” Yan Lai explained, coughing slightly. “No one would dare speak of such things there. Nor is it in the books.” She counter-attacked: “You have lived for ten thousand years; do you not know either?”

“I’ve spent my life saving people,” Hongchen noted. “My ten disciples are all troublemakers, but I raised them into Demon Kings. Looking at your cold, elegant face… I want to kiss you.”

Hongchen didn’t hold back. She sat before Yan Lai and looked her in the eye. “I want to kiss you.”

“You…” Yan Lai’s anger flared, but she channeled it into gripping her chess piece. She had been respected for millennia; this lawless person was about to break her composure. She closed her eyes. “No.”

Hongchen huffed but didn’t push. Instead, she asked about Yan Lai’s injuries. Her mood shifted so fast that Yan Lai couldn’t tell if she was being sincere. “Much better,” Yan Lai admitted, then felt obligated to ask if Hongchen was hurt.

“I am, but it’s no matter.” Hongchen started to pull down her robe, exposing her shoulders. Yan Lai jumped up, closing her eyes. “Put your clothes on!”

“I have a wound on my back!” Hongchen scoffed. “I’m the one losing out here, not you. Hypocrite…”

Yan Lai felt a twinge of regret. She had assumed the worst because of Hongchen’s unpredictable nature. She opened her eyes to see Hongchen’s back—skin as white as mountain snow.

A white veil fell over Yan Lai’s eyes; her heart was no longer pure.

“I don’t know the name of that beast,” Hongchen murmured, her voice soft and clear. “It used an array to block out the sun; that’s why I struggled.”

Hongchen turned around to see Yan Lai trapped by the veil again. She reached out to pull it away. When their skin touched, Yan Lai’s thoughts became a jumble. Hongchen hooked her finger and snatched the veil away, revealing Yan Lai’s dazed eyes.

Yan Lai looked down, realizing her palms were wet with sweat. Hongchen’s eyes widened. “What are you thinking about?”

Yan Lai didn’t know. Perhaps her principles were worth nothing to Hongchen. “Since you like women,” Yan Lai warned, “you cannot just undress in front of them.”

The air in the cold hall suddenly felt stifling. Hongchen leaned in, saw Yan Lai’s flushed cheeks, and suddenly understood. She laughed—a light, airy sound.

“You hypocrite,” Hongchen teased. “I told you I was hurt. What were you imagining?”

She grabbed Yan Lai’s hand and pulled it toward her back. Yan Lai’s fingers brushed her palm, and she felt the damp heat. Wait, is it hot? Hongchen tried to flip Yan Lai’s hand over, but Yan Lai pulled back, her eyes suddenly clear and sharp again.

“You…” Hongchen started to speak, but Yan Lai grabbed her by the shoulders and forced her to turn around.

Upon looking again, Yan Lai saw a gash on Hongchen’s back so deep the bone was visible. All her previous frustrations vanished. Yan Lai felt a sharp, sympathetic pain and furrowed her brows in distress. “I thought you were unharmed.”

“I am fine. It just stings a bit; it is only a surface wound,” Hongchen said, straightening her shoulders and holding her clothes to her chest to cover herself.

In the inner chamber, the atmosphere grew subtle. Yan Lai rummaged through her medicine bag for topical ointments. She suddenly remembered something. “How do you usually treat your injuries?”

“I endure them,” Hongchen replied indifferently.

“And external wounds?” Yan Lai found several effective medicines. As she reached out to touch the bloody marks on Hongchen’s back, her heart gave an involuntary twitch of pain.

“External wounds? This is actually the first time I have ever received one. Just try those medicines,” Hongchen said, essentially giving up and letting Yan Lai experiment.

Yan Lai’s brow tightened. “Your constitution is truly strange.”

Hongchen turned around to face her, her jade-like skin flashing before Yan Lai’s eyes again. Yan Lai gripped her shoulders and pushed her back, scolding softly, “Sit still.”

Raised in the disciplined lineage of Phoenix Mountain, Yan Lai had lived for tens of thousands of years, yet this was the first time she felt truly at a loss. She stared at the girl’s wound in a daze. Ordinary pills were useless, and these topical medicines seemed futile as well. She set the medicine aside, intending to use her spiritual power to heal her.

However, as soon as she moved, Hongchen spoke up. “Your own injuries just healed. You should look after yourself first.”

Hongchen’s refusal was blunt and immediate. Yan Lai was surprised; she had never imagined anyone would refuse spiritual healing. For a moment, she was stuck in a dilemma.

As Hongchen started to pull her clothes back on, Yan Lai instinctively pressed down on her shoulders. “Let me try.”

“It’s a hassle. No need.” Hongchen insisted on dressing, but Yan Lai did not back down, her presence commanding and powerful.

They reached a stalemate until Yan Lai grabbed a bottle of medicine as if it were a prize. “Try this one.”

Hongchen, being easygoing by nature, stopped resisting and turned her back to Yan Lai again.

The medicine was of high quality. Yan Lai opened the bottle, took some white ointment on her fingertip, and applied it to the gash on the snowy-white back. “Do you feel anything?” she asked anxiously.

“Does medicine work that fast?” Hongchen asked, confused.

Yan Lai felt discouraged. Conversely, her own fingertip began to burn. She asked, “Do you not feel a burning sensation?”

“No,” Hongchen replied.

Yan Lai frowned. She pulled a hairpin from her hair and, with a spark of resolve, swiped the sharp end across her own wrist. The skin broke, and beads of blood surfaced. She applied the ointment to her own wrist; within moments, the wound began to heat up. It was clearly working.

She looked at Hongchen’s slender back, a wave of self-loathing washing over her. She loathed Si Ming for suggesting the trip and loathed herself for not stopping Hongchen. As her wrist throbbed with pain, Yan Lai quickly pulled down her sleeve, set the bottle aside, and helped Hongchen into her outer robe.

“It seems it is of no use.”

Hongchen made a sound of surprise but allowed Yan Lai to drape the garment over her. A faint medicinal scent drifted between them. Hongchen was calm, while Yan Lai’s expression remained somber.

Another day passed. The maids delivered food as usual. Hongchen brought the food containers inside: stir-fried shrimp with lily bulbs, dried bamboo shoot and duck soup, two seasonal vegetables, and two bowls of rice.

Hongchen ladled a bowl of soup for Yan Lai. “I heard humans use food for healing. Try this.”

Normally, Yan Lai would have ignored her. But after everything that had happened, she silently accepted the bowl and took a sip. The broth was fresh and fragrant.

Si Ming watched longingly from the outer room. Hongchen ignored her, tearing off a duck leg and nodding in satisfaction. “The mortals have such good food. Why do immortals bother with fasting? Is this not better?” She then handed the other duck leg to Yan Lai.

Yan Lai, holding her soup, declined. Hongchen tossed the leg toward the outer room, where it landed right in front of Si Ming. Si Ming was delighted and took a huge bite.

Si Ming brought her stool over to the doorway, but Hongchen said immediately, “Since you ate my food, you must do something for me.”

Si Ming’s heart sank; the duck leg suddenly tasted much less delicious.

Yan Lai gave a small laugh. “She lacks a Master of Ceremonies. Si Ming, you are a perfect fit.”

“Master of Ceremonies?” Si Ming was confused. “Are you getting married?”

“The Empress is,” Hongchen replied, placing a shrimp in Yan Lai’s bowl. “Shrimp is nourishing.”

After dinner, they rested. Hongchen slept soundly, but Yan Lai stayed awake all night listening to the winter wind.

The next morning, Hongchen kidnapped the Noble Consort, knocked her unconscious, and laid her on the bed. The Empress arrived shortly after, dressed in elegant, plain robes.

Hongchen cast her spell. In an instant, the Changchun Palace transformed into a traditional manor house. Inside the illusion, the line between reality and dream was blurred; even Yan Lai felt a sense of immersion.

Several girls appeared. The leader, Yan Guang, stepped forward to bow to Hongchen and then addressed Yan Lai as “Mistress.”

Yan Lai turned away, ignoring her. Yan Heng, being rather literal-minded, thought Yan Lai hadn’t heard and walked right up to her, shouting, “Disciple greets the Mistress!”

Yan Lai: “…” The disciples are just like their Master—none of them can read the room.

Si Ming twitched her lips but didn’t dare interject. The disciples began decorating the manor with red silk and paper. While they worked, Hongchen sat at a stone table in a daze; the Empress and Consort had not yet woken up, as mortals take longer to stir from such spells.

Yan Guang went to prepare the bridal robes. Yan Lai sat across from Hongchen. “I am going out for a moment,” Hongchen said. She was going to “fetch” the parents and families of the Empress and Consort.

Yan Lai watched her leave. Si Ming walked over and picked up a piece of red paper. “What is this for?”

“Paper-cutting for the wedding. The character for Double Happiness,” Yan Lai said. She folded the paper and began to cut with precision. In her fair hands, the scissors moved gracefully. She cut the character for “Happiness,” and then she began cutting the likenesses of the Empress and the Noble Consort.

The red paper unfolded to show the Empress holding the Consort’s wrist. Yan Lai worked quickly and skillfully; within half an hour, the table was covered in red decorations. A breeze blew, and the “Double Happiness” characters hung from the trees and stuck to the windows, filling the courtyard with festive joy.

Yan Lai looked at the decorations, feeling an inexplicable sense of happiness. She tilted her head, and flowers began to bloom on the branches, filling the space with life.

Hongchen returned followed by eight people: the parents of the Empress and Consort, the Empress’s three brothers, and the Consort’s younger brother. Hongchen commanded, “Sit.”

The eight sat down, their eyes vacant and their movements like puppets.

“This is…?” Si Ming glanced at them. “Is there any point to this?”

“You are a lonely soul with no attachments,” Hongchen mocked. “You don’t know how important the blessing of family is.”

Si Ming was silenced. Hongchen leaned over to look at Yan Lai’s paper-cutting. She picked up the likeness of the Consort, holding it up to the light. “Cut one of us too. The kind where we are kissing.”

“Shameless,” Yan Lai muttered, focusing on her work.

“So what if I’m shameless? I like it, and that’s enough. Look at the mortal Emperor; he has so many concubines and acts out his lust in front of everyone, yet he lives a vivid life. You should learn a thing or two.”

Before she could finish, Yan Lai covered her mouth. Si Ming’s eyes widened; being with these two was a never-ending series of surprises.

Si Ming dared to ask, “How do you know how many people the Emperor sleeps with in a night?”

Hongchen, her mouth covered by Yan Lai’s hand, blinked innocently. She wanted to speak but couldn’t, her eyes curving into crescent moons.

Yan Lai chased Si Ming away. “Do you want everyone to know that the Demon Sovereign has no filter and speaks such vulgarities?” she scolded Hongchen. “Do you not show any restraint in front of your disciples? If you are not upright, how can you command subordinates?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Hongchen laughed. “Even if they brought girls to see me, I wouldn’t be angry. I might even give them a few centuries of spiritual power as a gift.”

Yan Lai: “…” I must have been blind ten thousand years ago to take her as a disciple.

Inside the house, the Empress and Consort woke up.

“Your Majesty,” the Consort whispered, rubbing her eyes.

“A Yin,” the Empress replied.

The room was as warm as spring. The Empress turned to her, her eyes soft. “In this dream, we shall be married. This is the only wedding I can give you.”

The Consort was amazed by the red silk and the beautiful screens. The Empress handed her a pill. “Take this, and we shall begin the ceremony.” The Consort swallowed it without hesitation.

The Empress smiled, though her heart felt a sting of sorrow. Once the dream ended, the Consort would forget her. In the Consort’s mind, she would remain only the Empress of the nation.

Si Ming brought in an old woman to help them dress. The Empress stepped out to see the wedding hall. It was decorated according to mortal customs, with seats for the parents and guests.

When the Empress saw her father and brothers, she hesitated. Si Ming reassured her, “They are your family; they will not speak ill of you.”

The Empress knelt before her father, her eyes filling with tears. “Father, your daughter has been unfilial. I can no longer remain as the Empress.”

Si Ming felt a pang of guilt, realizing how cruel it was to manipulate these mortal ties. The Empress stood up, wiped her tears, and told Si Ming, “Everything is perfect. There is no need to change a thing.”

In the other room, Yan Guang and Yan Heng were gossiping while helping the Consort dress. “Master said to come for a ceremony; I thought it was Master and Mistress getting married!” Yan Guang sighed.

“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they did?” Yan Heng added. “We’d have a Demon Queen. In a few years, maybe even a little Princess.”

“Don’t be silly,” Yan Guang whispered. “Two women cannot have a child.”

“They could just conjure one,” Yan Heng argued. “With Master’s looks and Mistress’s beauty, their daughter would be the most stunning being in the two realms.”

Hongchen, meanwhile, was hovering around Yan Lai. She pointed at the paper-cutting in Yan Lai’s hand. “She looks a bit ugly. Did you do that on purpose?”

“She looks beautiful,” Yan Lai soothed her like a child. “She looks even better than you do in person.”

Hongchen didn’t believe her and went to ask her disciples. They looked at their Master, then at their smiling but dignified Mistress, and answered: “She looks even better than Master does in person.”

“Traitors! All of you!” Hongchen huffed, playfully swatting at their heads.

Yan Lai ignored her, but suddenly, the earth began to shake and the house trembled. The lanterns on the trees spontaneously ignited, and the branches began to burn.

“Someone is interfering with the illusion!” Hongchen cried out in disbelief. How could anyone in the mortal palace see through her spell?

Yan Lai quickly used her magic to douse the flames, but the beautiful scene was already marred by black smoke. Hongchen was furious; interference on her territory was a death sentence.

Yan Lai grabbed her hand. “Now is not the time for anger. We must leave the illusion, or we will all be trapped here.”

“No!” Hongchen shouted. “I promised the Empress. The ceremony hasn’t happened yet. My promise is not yet fulfilled!”