I Heard The Demon Lord Has A Crush On Me? - Chapter 7

All demons possessed the ability to transform, and altering their appearance was merely commonplace. Changing his mind, Qingmo considered waking Ah Shi up once more, but the mark etched upon the other’s forehead looked entirely too unsettling.

Because Suyan and Guiyu failed to reach an agreement during their talks, they simply resorted to force. Qingmo had wrecked the doors of the rooms belonging to the guests attending the auction, leaving most of them trembling in terror inside their quarters, too afraid to venture out, save for one room where a clash had broken out.

A young man was blocking the doorway over there, arguing heatedly with whoever was inside, his back view appearing somewhat familiar.

If Qingmo remembered correctly, he had crossed paths with this person earlier at the gambling den, and it was precisely this fellow who had stood up for him.

Re-equipping Ah Shi with his mask, Qingmo was interrupted when Shenyin poked her head over to ask for help.

“Lord Ghost King, the mermaid looks like he is about to pass away. Would you mind taking a look?”

“Let us go.” Qingmo scooped up Ah Shi and shoved the burden into her arms.

Shenyin was a young girl after all, and being abruptly handed a heavy body caused her to drop the little furball she had been cradling. Unfortunately, this little creature lacked the red fox’s cautious timidity, being both entirely clueless yet fiercely fond of playing, and immediately scrambled off the moment it hit the ground.

“Hey, Little Furball!”

“Never mind, let it play.” Qingmo figured it would remain within his line of sight, meaning no major trouble should arise.

Black and white strands of spiritual energy collided and burst amidst the ruined walls and shattered tiles, kicking up billowing clouds of dust across the sky. Guiyu formed hand seals with both hands, his eyes flooded with a dense, inky mist as faint signs of going berserk began to surface.

A ferocious voice echoed throughout the entire village, “Suyan! You cannot save the demon race!”

Ah Shi, who had been resting limply on Shenyin’s shoulder in a deep sleep, suddenly twitched. Spiritual energy rippled ominously, sending a wave of foreboding straight through Qingmo’s heart.

“Shenyin!” Qingmo shouted at the top of his lungs, lunging forward to yank her and Ah Shi away from each other.

Ah Shi collapsed heavily to the ground, an aura of evil swirling all around his body. Nine crimson fox tails bloomed like lotus petals, and after a brief, violent spasm, he scrambled back up, matching the exact state of loss of control that the mermaid had displayed days prior.

Not just Ah Shi, but every other transformed beast that had absorbed spiritual energy from the auction exhibited this same raving madness, with their respective buyers suffering the consequences first.

Miserable shrieks rose and fell in waves, resembling a living hell on earth. Ah Shi formed claws with his five fingers and drove them straight through a guard’s chest, immediately lifting his head to glare with vicious intent at the flash of white amidst the ruins.

The little furball froze in place, the terrifying atmosphere overwhelming it with unease as it stared wide-eyed and helpless, tears welling in its liquid gaze.

“Little Furball! Run!” Qingmo shouted a warning, drawing his string weapon.

Ah Shi lunged toward the trembling little creature. Even a sharp string slicing across his cheek failed to stop him, and the next target was certain to be fatal.

Since Ah Shi mattered to Suyan, Qingmo dared not deal a fatal blow outright. Watching as bloodstained fingertips brushed against soft fur, he braced himself.

At the critical moment, a figure suddenly dashed forward and snatched Little Furball away.

“Are you alright?” Qingmo bound Ah Shi tightly with a demon-catching rope before turning to ask the newcomer.

The youth had a deep scratch torn across his shoulder, yet he shook his head, raised his arm to reveal the shivering little creature, and handed it back.

Qingmo raised an eyebrow. “We met at the gambling house.”

The young man paused, studying his features closely before realizing that those striking eyes were deeply familiar.

“It is you!” he gasped in astonishment.

Given the rudimentary moves the youth had displayed earlier, it was clear he possessed extraordinary martial prowess. Charging impulsively into the gambling den to uphold justice had essentially been a clumsy display of showing off before an expert.

Qingmo examined the wound, crushed a medicinal pill, and pressed it onto the laceration. “This medicine will temporarily block the spread of demonic energy. You should tend to it properly once you return.”

“Thank you.” It was the first time Wen Siyu had ever been touched so intimately by a stranger, leaving his entire body rigid with discomfort. Meeting the other man’s gaze by accident made his cheeks heat up inexplicably.

Fortunately, their exchange concluded quickly.

Suyan was perpetually plagued by illness, yet his offensive maneuvers lacked any hint of weakness. Within a few exchanges, Guiyu was left bruised and battered beneath his hands.

Yet the stubborn adversary refused to repent, and the loss of control among the beasts grew increasingly severe.

Guiyu sneered, “They cannot feel pain. Unless you kill every single one of them with your own hands, not a single beast here will survive!”

“You hold quite the grudge.” Tucking the little furball into his robes, Qingmo stepped up beside Suyan and teased airily, “Did he steal your wife or something, why are you so full of hatred?”

Guiyu choked visibly, glaring at him with blazing fury.

With dark circles under his eyes, Suyan reached out a hand to hook Qingmo’s little finger, shaking it gently like an adult coaxing a child. “Do not cause trouble.”

Qingmo rolled his eyes halfway. “Did you not notice he is being controlled? The mark is on his tail.”

Suyan replied with a hint of melancholy, “I noticed. I am figuring out a solution.”

Qingmo offered a silent, crooked smile, every bit of mischievous intent plastered across his face.

“Do not harm his life.”

“No problem!”

After muttering back and forth for a moment, Guiyu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and warned warily, “Ghost King, this matter has nothing to do with you, you—”

Before he could finish, Qingmo strolled away casually. “I am just here to watch, carry on.”

This Ghost King’s temperament truly was as fickle as the weather.

Switching from offense to defense, Suyan stood in silence to seal a formation with hand signs. In an instant, a flurry of white swept across the heavens, bringing falling snow to the early spring afternoon under the bright sun.

The snowflakes drifted softly, healing wounds wherever they touched, causing the rampaging beasts to daze momentarily before their bodies became enveloped in a protective barrier formed of pure snow.

This remained merely a temporary measure, and the massive expenditure of spiritual energy was far too heavy for Suyan’s fragile constitution to bear.

As snowflakes settled onto his shoulders, Guiyu’s eyes flickered with inner conflict. He dropped to his knees in agony, clutching his head as his last shred of clear sanity fought desperately.

His resistance proved no different from a praying mantis trying to stop a chariot. The curse-mark tied directly to his body erupted with blinding pain, accompanied by a miserable shriek as nine fox tails burst into the open air, channeling every last ounce of remaining strength into a final strike.

Suddenly, a wave of pain far more excruciating than the curse-mark flared from behind him. Glancing back, Guiyu saw Qingmo smiling cheerfully as he tossed a bloody, severed white tail in his hand, beneath the fur of which a crimson skull symbol was branded.

“My, my,” Qingmo shook his head in mock pity, “guess you are an eight-tailed fox from now on.”

For the fox clan, losing a tail meant forfeiting cultivation. Guiyu vomited a mouthful of fresh blood. “You!”

“What about me? I have a name.” Without hesitation, Qingmo delivered a sharp chop to the back of his neck.

As Guiyu passed out, the rampaging beast minions gradually settled back into a normal state. Suyan withdrew his barrier, coughing softly as a wave of frailty washed over him, making him look as though he could collapse at any second. “Qingmo, thank you.”

Stepping aside smoothly to avoid any risk of the man toppling onto him, Qingmo asked, “Is there an actual material reward?”

Suyan smiled faintly. “There will be.”

“Hmph!” Refusing to bicker further, Qingmo tossed the severed fox tail from hand to hand while inspecting the lingering casualties. Countless casualties had occurred during the beast riot, and Ah Shi still lay bound like a rice dumpling on the ground.

Pursing his lips, Qingmo turned back to press Suyan on the earlier topic, “Just who is Ah Shi to you anyway? You said he mattered a great deal.”

To his surprise, the other man merely offered an amused smile. “He is nobody special. Ah Shi knows how to craft incense, and the specific fragrances he creates can suppress nightmares, which my household companion is accustomed to using.”

Beyond that, the fragrance also managed to suppress a ghost king’s bloodthirsty urges. The various scented sachets hanging from the eaves of the Ghost King Manor had all been secretly installed by Suyan’s men, though Qingmo practically never slept at the manor and remained entirely oblivious to the fact.

Catching only the phrase household companion, Qingmo’s mouth dropped open into a wide, round shape, feeling as though his own intellect had just been grossly insulted.

A fraud!

Tricking him into performing manual labor for free, and to top it all off, failing completely to dig up the identity of the ugly creature while getting heavily flaunted in the process!

Fuming to the point of literal smoke rising from his head, Suyan acted as though nothing unusual had occurred, holding a hand out toward him. “Hand the fox tail over. That talisman rune appeared too strangely and must be reported to the Sovereign.”

“Here, take it! It is not like I am trying to rob you!”

Impatiently tossing the item over, the moment it left his hand, the rune abruptly flared with a blinding glow and shot away in a specific direction as if summoned.

Both men froze in tandem, and Qingmo reacted first, spinning around to give chase after the flying tail.

A masked figure dressed in black was hiding within the rubble of a ruined stone crevice, failing to anticipate that pursuit would arrive quite this swiftly. Seizing the fox tail, the figure turned tail and sprinted.

Qingmo pursued relentlessly from behind. “Stop right there! What kind of person dares to play tricks on me!”

The black-clad figure moved with astonishing speed, constantly throwing out distractions to obstruct his vision. Sashing through the obstacles with his musical strings to carve out a path, Qingmo noticed a peculiar detail: the intruder walked with a slight limp in one leg.

A cripple running at such a pace?

Darting into a narrow cavern entrance with a lowered body, the intruder triggered a crimson skull talisman that materialized out of thin air, blocking the path forward.

The skull swelled rapidly, utilizing its pupils as a medium to infiltrate Qingmo’s consciousness.

Insults and scolding echoed once again inside his ears.

Eyeless trash, do not forget your place!

Amo, you talk too much.

The harsh reality was that no one had ever truly cared for or cherished him. He had played the part of a fool while offering up everything, only to be repaid in the end with sheer disgust.

Recalling those past episodes, his footing grew unsteady, his body plunging downward from the heights like a butterfly with clipped wings.

It was not the first time he had fallen like this; it hurt terribly, and it could kill.

Yet having endured enough pain, a numb sort of habit had already formed. Qingmo closed his eyes to brace for impact, only to plunge directly into a sturdy embrace thick with the comforting fragrance of medicinal herbs.

Those arms wrapped tightly around him, preventing his body from touching a single speck of filthy dust.

As it turned out, falling did not always have to hurt.

Reaching out a hand to press against his glabella, Suyan channeled a steady stream of spiritual energy into his mind, speaking in a voice as gentle as a winter afternoon sun, “Qingmo, snap out of it.”

“Mn.”

With a cooling sensation between his brows and his body cocooned in herbal warmth, Qingmo blinked dazedly, his vision clearing after a few steady breaths.

Staring blankly as he lay cradled in Suyan’s arms, his thoughts lingering in a daze for a long moment, he finally murmured, “He got away.”

Suyan felt as though his heart had just been lightly scratched by a tiny paw, leaving a pleasant itch. “We will catch him eventually.”

Time stood still in a strange, quiet tranquility. Tacitly avoiding any mention of the cleanup operations, Qingmo sprang upright onto his feet, gazing out at the setting sun melting into the horizon with a look of lingering frustration. “I did not ruin things for you, did I?”

“Not at all. You helped me immensely.” Suyan coaxed him in a soft, soothing tone, “Besides, you still have this.”

Reaching out to gently part the slightly disheveled collar of his robes, a fluffy little creature stirred, curled tightly into a ball and fast asleep.

Lowering his gaze to eye the sleeping little furball nestled against his chest, Qingmo suddenly broke into a smile, reaching out to tap the creature’s soft, warm nose. “You ungrateful little rascal.”

Letting out a soft chirp without opening its eyes, the little furball buried its entire face back into its fluffy tail and resumed sleeping soundly.

Pulling his robes back together, Qingmo asked a question whose answer he already knew, “May I take this back with me?”

Earlier, he had worried the furball might get tracked down and snatched away, which was why he had hidden it away so closely.

Nodding in assent, Suyan unilaterally decided the little creature’s fate, “Whatever pleases you.”