I Heard The Demon Lord Has A Crush On Me? - Chapter 9

“Actually, it is not quite like that. It is just that I am pursuing him, though I have not won his consent yet.”

Sugar Cake raised a paw to help Qingmo close his dropped jaw, finishing with a soft meow and a flick of its tail as it waited for praise.

“So the rumors were actually true?”

The Demon Lord exhausted every possible effort to pursue and marry his beloved, going so far as to keep the person carefully protected from the public eye to shield them from gossip, enduring grievances in silence while the supposed ugly creature remained completely indifferent.

Such dog-blood melodramas, usually found only within the pages of trashy storybooks, had somehow managed to cross his path today.

“What rumors?” Suyan turned his head, his expression entirely innocent. “It seems everyone is quite interested in my personal affairs?”

“Ah, well, not really.” Qingmo refused to acknowledge his own wicked little bout of schadenfreude.

“If I am being honest, I have failed him far too much.” Mentioning that beloved, Suyan’s eyes brimmed with boundless tenderness. He parted his lips and spoke slowly, “He is wonderful. In him, I witnessed a resilience unlike anyone else’s. Though his life has been arduous, he has never given up. He is a truly hardworking person.”

Working hard to eat mortal children certainly sounded arduous; the monster genuinely possessed perseverance.

Sitting beside Suyan, Qingmo listened to him describe just how perfect his sweetheart was, how extraordinary, and how the person had managed to sweep him into an ocean of affection.

His arms inexplicably broke out in goosebumps, prompting Qingmo to quickly cover Sugar Cake’s ears as he muttered under his breath, “Good Sugar Cake, we are not listening to this. Your big brother has lost his mind.”

With all the virtues Suyan rattled off, he left out any description of the person’s physical appearance entirely, leading Qingmo to deliberately probe, “You look so handsome, so surely your beloved must be a beauty as well?”

“Merely an outer shell, it does not matter.” Suyan lost himself in thought for a moment, his index finger tracing down his own cheek as though an invisible scar lingered there.

Ah, judging by that reaction, the ugly creature rumor was practically confirmed beyond a shadow of a doubt.

“Meow!”

Sugar Cake suddenly let out a cry, scrambled over to the door, shoved it open, and sat down obediently outside the eaves to wait.

Liu Ze approached from a distance, carrying a fresh batch of pastries straight from the oven and halting his steps to stroke Sugar Cake’s head. This cat could always calculate the exact timing to come out and welcome him.

“Qingmo, come try these peach blossom pastries. The petals were picked just this morning, so they are wonderfully fresh.”

“Thank you, Uncle!”

Qingmo made his voice sound exceptionally sweet, almost as if one could see a tail wagging enthusiastically behind him.

A deep paternal warmth filled Liu Ze’s gaze. “I remembered you liked them. Come over whenever you want to eat them in the future, and I will bake them for you.”

“Hm?” Qingmo blinked, cookie crumbs clinging to the corner of his mouth. Why did he not recall ever saying he liked peach blossom pastries?

Ever since stepping through this household’s doors, one jarring oddity had followed another. While none of them felt entirely right upon closer inspection, none were quite severe enough to pin down.

Suyan finally bothered to haul himself up from his sleeping quarters, coughing a few times first. “I merely mentioned it in passing earlier, but Father remembered it all this way.”

“Am I really that popular?”

“Naturally. You are, after all, the most capable ghost king under my brother’s command.” Suyan offered his praise without the slightest hesitation.

In reality, the Heavenly Path never brought matters of the Lingyao Palace home to discuss. Liu Ze knew this perfectly well, yet he chose to play the fool, laughing the matter off entirely.

“There are more in the kitchen. I will have someone pack them up for you to take back later, and you can come again once you finish those.” He handed Qingmo a handkerchief, gesturing toward the corner of his mouth with the complete demeanor of an elder caring for a child.

A heart that had grown withered and cold for many years experienced a fleeting moment of warmth. Qingmo offered a polite expression of thanks, using the back of his hand to brush away the smudge at the corner of his mouth while clutching the handkerchief tightly, reluctant to actually use it.

In the past, he had cared nothing for anything related to Suyan, yet now he found himself feeling a touch envious. No wonder Suyan possessed such a mild, unhurried temperament; the children raised by Liu Ze were every bit as gentle as he was.

The Yanyun Pavilion sat just across the street. Bidding his farewells, Qingmo returned to check on the place, only to find the usual chaotic pandemonium and boundless noisy bickering in full swing.

Shenyin had spoken the truth after all; that thrashing yesterday might have actually been rather undeserved.

Chiying dismissed a difficult customer and trotted over eagerly. “Pavilion Master? A rare visitor! Why have you graced us with your presence again?”

“My own territory, do I need your permission to visit?” Qingmo delivered a swift kick to the man’s shin, entirely rejecting any unsolicited advice.

With exaggerated stinginess, he picked out a single package of pastries. “Take this and split it amongst yourselves. I want fish soup for dinner tonight.”

“Got it!”

No matter how bustling the outside world remained, the moment that wooden door clicked shut, the room instantly quieted down.

Sprawled flat on his back across the bed with his limbs akimbo, Qingmo stared blankly into space, clutching a single handkerchief in his grip without daring to squeeze too hard for fear of leaving creases.

When the plump little kite had claimed that ugly creature was blissfully happy, he had not thought much of it, but after experiencing a taste of it firsthand, he realized it was the sort of warmth ordinary people spent lifetimes failing to attain.

“Should have brought Little Furball along…” Finding his embrace entirely empty, he grabbed a pillow, pulled it against his chest, and rolled over. A luminescent paper crane flew in through the half-open window.

Lazily keeping his eyes closed, Qingmo nevertheless snatched the paper crane out of the air with practiced precision. As spiritual energy gathered within his palm, Bai Yingfei’s incredibly punchable face immediately materialized in mid-air.

“Qingmo! Where is the letter I sent you?! Why are you not replying!”

“Letter? What letter?” Qingmo brazenly lied without a single blush. “Must have been eaten by a dog halfway here. In any case, I never received it.”

Clearly, this was not the first time such an incident had occurred. Through the communication array, Bai Yingfei looked ready to shove his entire head inside. “Which dog ate it is something you know very well!”

“Woof!”

How on earth could such a brazenly shameless person exist in this world?

“What on earth do you want? Spit it out, I am busy.”

Qingmo’s definition of busy differed quite a bit from everyone else’s. While normal people busied themselves with legitimate affairs, his idea of being busy involved stirring up trouble.

“Is it a crime to miss you? Is it really that hard to ask you to visit Chizhou City for once?”

With a swift toss, a pillow hurtled straight toward Bai Yingfei’s face. However, since the projection was not a physical entity, the pillow simply dropped to the floor, and the communication array flickered before stabilizing.

“Hell has frozen over if you are missing me. That rundown stretch of nowhere? Not going!”

“Tch…” Looking genuinely anxious yet remarkably sincere, Bai Yingfei urged, “In any case, something very important has come up. Just condescend to make the trip.”

Bai Yingfei could practically be counted as his only friend, and his entire journey onto the path of cultivation was owed entirely to Qingmo’s guidance. If one wanted to dig deeper, calling him a disciple would not be entirely inaccurate. However, finding the trouble bothersome and refusing to shoulder the heavy responsibilities tied to the title of master, Qingmo had adamantly rejected the label, leaving their relationship in its current peculiar state.

“You brat, are you hiding something from me?” Sitting cross-legged with his hands cupping his chin, Qingmo narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

Based on past experience, whenever Bai Yingfei grew this anxious for a visit, he had either stirred up minor trouble or committed a catastrophic disaster.

Remaining entirely unfazed, Bai Yingfei replied, “You will find out once you get here.”

A light knock sounded at the door. Tan Zhao returned carrying Little Furball alongside a hot bowl of fish soup, prompting Qingmo to leap forward to welcome his two favorite treasures while summarily cutting off the communication array. “We will talk another time when I am free!”

Drip, drop.

That wretched dungeon once again.

Pain had long since numbed his nerves, leaving his entire body battered and bruised. Qingmo twitched his wrists, knowing full well he was trapped inside a dream yet utterly incapable of waking up.

Before long, that person would come bursting in to look at him.

Though his mind remained foggy, a shred of consciousness persisted, and Qingmo tried his best to snap himself out of the nightmare, suddenly recalling the incense Suyan had mentioned. He really ought to go demand some from him.

From that perspective, Ah Shi was quite important after all.

Chains rattled harshly against one another as approaching footsteps came to a halt directly before him. Unwilling to open his eyes yet powerless to stop himself, Qingmo forced his head upward, compelled to relive this scenario he despised above all others.

“Meow…”

The visitor had changed entirely. It was a cat.

The snow-white feline possessed a bulky build with luxuriously fluffy fur and pink, tender paw pads that landed softly against the floor, looking far too pristine to belong within such a filthy dungeon.

Since this was a dream, Qingmo’s faculties were somewhat scrambled, causing him to murmur in a daze, “…Sugar Cake?”

No, Sugar Cake was a little calico cat, and nowhere near this breathtakingly stunning.

The white cat narrowed its eyes, its tail swishing gently as if expressing displeasure at being misidentified as another feline.

With a single spring, it leaped atop the wooden execution frame. Despite looking soft and cuddly, it bared a set of formidable teeth and effortlessly bit through the thick iron lock and chains.

Losing all strength, Qingmo collapsed to the floor. He watched as the cat circled around him a few times before stopping right before his face, extending a warm tongue to gently lick away the dried bloodstains clinging to his cheek.

“Thank you.”

The tickling sensation on his cheek brought an inexplicable sense of peace, especially since those heterochromic eyes looked thoroughly familiar, though he could not quite place where he had seen them before.

The white cat curled its tail neatly for him to use as a pillow. Filled with inexplicable delight, Qingmo mustered his remaining strength to reach out and give its fur a stroke.

The fur was dense and remarkably solid.

It is solid.

The licking motion stopped abruptly.

The white cat pressed its head right against his ear, letting out a purr wrapped in layers of affected sweetness. “Meow-ou.”

“Meow.”

“Meow-ou.”

The chorus of cat meows echoed endlessly, causing Qingmo to thrash about wildly on his bed while clutching his head as bedding tumbled down onto the floor. He babbled deliriously in his sleep, “I only made a single comment, no need to be so petty about it.”

The surroundings of the Yanyun Pavilion played host to numerous stray cats. Because the back kitchens opened directly onto a small alley where leftover food scraps were dumped daily, the area naturally drew in hordes of the little creatures.

Today, however, the noise was exceptionally loud.

With a soft groan, he blinked awake, gazing dazedly toward the window left unlatched the night before. It turned out the cat cries from his dream were actually coming from outside.

The little furball resting beside his pillow startled awake, its snow-white, fluffy fur matching the white cat from his dream down to the very last detail.

The nightmare was a strange one indeed; aside from that recurring dungeon, not a single detail remained clear upon waking, leaving behind only the hazy image of a white cat.

Scooping up Little Furball, Qingmo buried his face in its fur for a heavy sniff. “I must have completely lost my mind in my sleep, dreaming that you turned into a giant white cat, and a solid one at that!”

“Ying! Ying!” The little furball waved its milk-fed paws frantically, pushing hard against his face with zero intimidation value.

You fickle-hearted scoundrel, if you love cats so much, stop hugging me!

Outside the window, the cat chorus grew even more intense. Rubbing his drowsy, heavy-lidded eyes, Qingmo carried Little Furball over to the windowsill to look down, only to spot a familiar figure standing amidst the crowd, busy feeding the starving little creatures.

“Be good… do not fight, there is enough for everyone.”

Suyan offered a helpless smile as he stroked the cats constantly scaling his legs, trying his best to distribute the treats evenly. He had brought along plenty of feline snacks, mostly leftovers from Sugar Cake’s portions, yet to these homeless strays, they practically counted as priceless delicacies.

Leaning against the windowsill with keen interest, Qingmo watched for a long moment before realizing the man had yet to notice him. He gave a sharp, casual whistle. “Suyan, good morning.”

The hand distributing cat treats paused abruptly. Suyan raised his heterochromic eyes, and the figure bathed entirely in the morning sunlight caught him completely off guard, crashing straight into his heart.

Qingmo always possessed the knack for melting a person’s defenses. Unable to help himself, Suyan softened his gaze entirely. “Good morning.”