I Heard The Demon Lord Has A Crush On Me? - Chapter 1

Inside the dim and damp dungeon, the young man lay with his eyes tightly shut. His dark, thick eyelashes cast shadows across his pale and handsome face. Half of his robes were soaked in blood, and only the occasional weak rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive.

Outside, the sounds of battle grew increasingly fierce. Seeming to sense the chaos, his body twitched once, and he forced open his heavy eyelids.

Tortured by pain for so long, his vision was somewhat blurred. Qingmo stared blankly as a figure in light armor burst into the dungeon, shattering the lock and shackles on the cell door to reach his side.

“Lord…” His voice trembled, so hoarse it was barely recognizable.

He distinctly remembered that his lord had died seven years ago, but that lingering shred of hope made him think this was simply another rare dream visit.

Clang.

A sharp blade severed the bindings around his wrists, and his paper-thin body abruptly lost support and crashed to the ground. It was not until the sharp pain of his temple striking the floor hit him that he realized everything before him was real.

“Amo.”

The voice calling out to him from afar was as gentle as ever.

Shattered hopes pieced themselves back together, and overwhelming joy swallowed the pain. Propping up his broken body with dried blood still staining the corners of his mouth, Qingmo asked cautiously, “Lord… is it really you…?”

Clinging to a vague and ethereal promise through half a lifetime of storms and destitution, if this person could stand before him once again, then none of it had been in vain.

Yet he forgot that the price of making a dream come true is waking up to a nightmare.

The very next second, the gentle expression on that face vanished entirely, replaced by an icy glare. “Amo, you talk too much.”

Then the sword flashed, cutting a scarlet arc through the air. He felt only a chilling sensation in his throat, and warm, coppery blood flooded his windpipe, choking away any chance of uttering another word.

Clutching his throat, Qingmo stared in lingering anguish and profound shock at the person who had just dealt him a fatal blow, his hollow eyes brimming with tears.

At that moment, he finally realized that his lord had changed, or perhaps he had never changed at all. From beginning to end, any bestowed kindness had been fake, and he had simply been far too naive.

Crisp, pleasant bell chimes rang out beside his ear, jolting Qingmo from his slumber as he lethargically opened his eyes.

Another unpleasant day began with a nightmare.

“Why did I dream of him again…”

Muttering under his breath, he sat up, clutched his head, and tried to shake off the lingering irritation before rolling around the bed in frustration for a moment. The past was in the past, and only one problem mattered right now:

“I do not want to go to work!”

A miserable wail echoed through the Ghost King Manor early in the morning, startling the resting birds into scattering in all directions.

Tan Zhao pushed open the door to find a round blanket bundle rolling back and forth along the edge of the oversized bed. No matter how large a bed was, it always came to an end, yet this bundle seemed to have eyes, miraculously stopping right at the dangerous precipice every single time.

Tan Zhao showed no reaction to this routine, simply pulling out a clean set of robes. “My lord, it is time to rise.”

From major affairs of state down to daily living, Tan Zhao tended to almost everything for Qingmo, and Qingmo had long since grown accustomed to the reliance.

The blanket bundle fell silent, followed by a faint sigh. A fair, slender hand stretched out and crooked a finger.

Seeing this, Tan Zhao handed over the garments.

After tossing and turning for a good while, the blanket bundle finally unwrapped itself, and the young man crawled out with a disheveled bird nest of hair, looking utterly lifeless.

“Once the morning assembly is over, let us head back to the mortal realm,” Qingmo said through the bronze mirror as Tan Zhao combed his hair.

Tan Zhao always went along with his wishes, simply replying with a soft affirmative.

This Ghost King Manor had been granted to Qingmo after he surrendered to the Heavenly Path, sitting in an enviable and prime location. A towering Chinese parasol tree grew right outside the gates with lush foliage, where blue kites often perched.

Yet no matter how magnificent the manor was, it could never rival his profound exhaustion with work. Qingmo was naturally lazy and loved his freedom, breaking out in sneezes the moment he caught a whiff of official duties.

Dawdling and lingering in bed caused him to miss breakfast entirely, and right before heading out, Tan Zhao could only shove a flatbread into his hand.

This bread looked no different from the ones sketched by the Heavenly Path itself, prompting Qingmo to take a vengeful, heavy bite out of it.

“Chirp! Have you heard? The Demon Lord just took in a new Demon Queen, and he is a mere mortal!”

“Chirp chirp! Not only did I hear about it, I saw him yesterday! He is an absolute beauty, though it is a pity mortal lifespans are so brief…”

Up in the parasol tree, two of the liveliest little blue kites were chattering away about the latest gossip. Hearing this, Qingmo stopped in his tracks, tossed aside his half-eaten flatbread, leaped up with a bound, and landed on a branch. “What are you gossoping about now? Let me hear it too.”

When a living person suddenly materialized several yards up in the air, the little blue kites showed no shock at all, instead flapping their wings in enthusiastic greeting. “Good morning, Lord Ghost King! We were just talking about the Demon Lord and his new Demon Queen.”

“Him…” Qingmo waved a hand dismissively to show his lack of interest. Everyone knew that Demon Lord Zhi’an was infatuated with a mortal, and for a thousand years, every single queen he took was simply a reincarnation of that same mortal, making it old news at this point.

“Since I am rarely around, are there any fresh rumors floating around the Lingyao Palace?”

The plumper little blue kite tilted its head in thought. “Hmm… let me think… Oh! I do not know if this counts, but I heard the Demon Lord is planning to take a queen as well! He has kept his beloved hidden away for years because he does not want anyone else to find out.”

“Chirp?!” The other little blue kite widened its shocked, bead-like eyes. “Such a thing actually happened? How did I miss this?!”

“Ah… I only heard about it this morning myself, so I am sharing it with you right away.”

“That sickly invalid Suyan even has the energy to hide people away? He is half-dead on his own all the time.” Interest piqued, Qingmo crossed his legs and sat comfortably on the branch, looking fully prepared for a long chat while completely forgetting about the morning assembly.

The plump little kite puffed out its chest and argued defensively, “Now what kind of talk is that? The Demon Lord holds a high position, so hiding someone away is effortless, otherwise how else would nobody know about his sweetheart?”

Suyan was plagued by chronic illnesses and usually projected a gentle, mild demeanor. However, he was diligent when handling official duties, making it difficult to associate him with any scandalous gossip.

Crossing his arms, Qingmo felt the plump kite made a fair point. “Then do you happen to know what his beloved looks like?”

Even though the sickly man had poor health, he possessed a refined and striking face, so anyone who managed to catch his eye surely could not look too terrible.

However, at the mention of this, the plump little kite suddenly stopped talking. It darted a mysterious glance around to ensure the surroundings were clear before beckoning the slender kite to hop onto Qingmo’s shoulder, lowering its voice to whisper, “This beloved of the Demon Lord is… quite something. Rumors say it is a transformed monster that feeds on mortal children, and it looks utterly hideous!”

“What?” Qingmo vigorously dug at his ear, wondering if he had misheard. “An ugly monster that eats children? Has Suyan lost his mind?”

While rumors should never be taken entirely at face value, hearing such a claim was still quite shocking.

“I think the possibility is quite high,” the plump kite said before hopping back to the branch. “Do not many mortal storybooks feature fox demons falling in love with ugly scholars? Perhaps the Demon Lord simply…”

“Simply what?” When the voice abruptly cut off, Qingmo raised his head in confusion to find both little birds frozen stiff with terror, keeping their beaks tightly shut and shaking their heads frantically.

Gossiping behind people’s backs was never a respectable thing to do, especially in a place as heavily regulated and strictly governed by the Heavenly Path as this.

Yet Qingmo had never been one to tolerate constraints and was used to living freely, so he chuckled and said, “What is there to hide? We are all friends here, have I ever betrayed your secrets?”

The little blue kites remained silent, offering only frantic head shakes while casting desperate glances down toward the trunk of the tree.

It was only when a bitter wave of medicinal fragrance slowly drifted into the air around him that Qingmo caught the scent, a sudden sense of foreboding sinking into his chest.

Someone was standing beneath the tree.

Standing too far down to clearly distinguish facial features, he could only vaguely make out the dark black fur cloak draped over the person’s shoulders, but that distinct medicinal scent was unmistakable.

There were no ordinary people around here, and he had no idea how much of their conversation had just been overheard.

Using the pad of his finger, Qingmo gently patted the heads of the two terrified little kites, turned around, and leaped down from the towering tree. He landed with feather-light silence, the hem of his robe fluttering gently with the movement.

Faking a casual brush of nonexistent dust from his clothes before he had even figured out an excuse, a gentle male voice reached his ears, “Amo? I have not seen you in a long time.”

…Heaven knows if you were waiting here on purpose.

The corners of Qingmo’s mouth twitched slightly as he managed a perfecter perfunctory smile. “A blue kite fell down just now, it was too plump to fly, so I carried it back up.”

“Chirp…” The plump little kite chimed in from above on cue.

Suyan seemingly accepted the explanation, nodding quietly. His voice remained soft, and the heavy cloak on his shoulders seemed as though it could crush him at any moment. “I see. I only noticed someone up in the tree and thought they might be trapped, so I came over to help… cough…”

Before he could finish the sentence, he pressed a hand to his mouth and broke into a fit of coughing. After calming down, he continued, “Still, this is fine. You are always busy and hard to catch, and we only ever cross paths during the assemblies.”

“Morning… assembly?”

Such a familiar couple of words.

Qingmo gave his head a sharp smack, wondering how he could have completely forgotten about it!

When he had first arrived, all his colleagues in the Lingyao Palace had been fascinated by him as a unique ghost king born of heaven and earth. Yet that interest proved fleeting, and since Qingmo disliked mingling with such hypocrites, his relationships remained superficial. Unless someone provoked him directly, he preferred to ignore them, with the sole exception of Suyan, who persistently sought him out.

Suyan possessed a pair of heterochromic eyes and always wore a gentle smile. Whenever they interacted, his tone remained soft and even, leaving no room for fault. Aside from his frail health, he was practically a flawless existence.

Perhaps because of his illness, Suyan never kept a confidant or servant close by all these years, leaving the idle attendants of the Lingyao Palace to daydream about catching the Demon Lord’s favor. Even catching a brief moment with the ailing beauty brought them satisfaction.

He only wondered what expression those attendants would wear if they ever discovered that Suyan had hidden an ugly monster in a golden house.

Qingmo neither disliked Suyan nor felt particularly fond of him, viewing him as a decent enough colleague simply because their interactions were comfortable.

Facing the daylight outside the grand hall, he stretched lazily. He had indeed ended up late for this assembly, and so had Suyan, but the Heavenly Path chose not to erupt in anger, and with both men glancing at each other, the matter was quietly dropped.

Mortal beast clans had caused trouble again, and once the meeting concluded, Suyan was unable to leave the Lingyao Palace right away, meaning he clearly had a mountain of work ahead of him.

“Tan Zhao!”

Catching sight of his figure in the distance, Qingmo waved a hand and walked over, familiarly draping an arm around the other man’s shoulders. “I am finally free! Come on, let us head back to the Yanyun Pavilion for a soak!”

Seeing him in such high spirits, Tan Zhao knew his time off had been approved and they would soon be retreating to the mortal realm to loaf around. “The season is right. Shall I gather some peach blossoms?”

“Yes!” Qingmo nodded cheerfully.

He loved scattering peach blossom petals across the hot spring waters. At first, it was merely to mask the stubborn smell of blood clinging to him, but over time it became a habit, making spring feel rather lonely without falling blossoms.