Xiao Jingchen’s fingers trembled as he clenched his fists, drawing in a sharp breath. Suddenly, he tore a talisman from his sleeve and pressed it against the back of Wen Shuyu’s neck.
Wen Shuyu’s eyes closed, and she drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.
Xiao Jingchen rose from the couch, carefully tucking the blankets around her before lifting the barrier and stepping toward the door. “Prepare water. I am going to bathe.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” the steward replied promptly.
“Wait.” Xiao Jingchen raised his gaze.
The steward paused. “Is there anything else, Your Highness?”
He adjusted his disheveled robes, his breathing uneven. “Cold water.”
Once Xiao Jingchen left the room, Wen Shuyu’s eyes fluttered open. Clear and focused, they showed none of the dazed look she had worn earlier.
The voice of Xiao Liu sounded from nearby. “Master, don’t worry. Though my power hasn’t fully recovered, I can easily dispel any mortal charms or talismans here.”
Wen Shuyu admired him. “You’re impressive.”
“You used to be far stronger than me,” Xiao Liu said, a hint of melancholy creeping into his tone. “A mere wave of your hand could summon the Nine Heavens’ Lightning. But now… without your Dao bones and spiritual roots, even with your demonic bones, you cannot cultivate dark arts. That’s why it’s come to this.”
A faint laugh escaped Wen Shuyu’s lips. She curved them slightly, her dark eyes reflecting the pale moonlight outside.
“How did you know I’ve practiced dark arts before?” she asked.
Xiao Liu’s eyes widened in surprise as she continued, smiling softly. “When I was young, frustrated that I couldn’t cultivate, I ran away from the Chancellor’s residence. By chance, I discovered the method and used my demonic bones to cultivate a body of dark energy.”
“But at that time, my mind was immature. I didn’t want to stand apart from others or become an anomaly. So I cut at my own demonic bones with a blade. Perhaps the bones were afraid, sealing themselves, never to emerge again. Even the experts my father summoned could not detect the presence of my demonic bones.”
“Later, I found the dark arts dull and tiresome, so I stopped, and that lasted until today.”
Wen Shuyu turned to Xiao Liu with a mischievous grin. “But recently… I’ve realized there’s nothing wrong with practicing dark arts.”
“I’ve been lazy for over ten years, and I’ve had enough of idleness. Once I have someone like Xiao Jingchen, a peerless beauty of the mortal realm, by my side, I will cultivate dark arts anew and refuse to remain weak.”
Xiao Liu’s expression shifted to panic. “Master! Don’t joke! We’ll eventually recover your Dao bones. We are to cultivate the Divine Path—you mustn’t practice blindly!”
Wen Shuyu blinked. “Xiao Liu, that’s where you’re wrong. Why should you have prejudice against the dark path?”
“In my view,” she continued, voice calm and deliberate, “the difference between gods and demons lies only in the heart. Gods can harbor greed and delusions; demons can possess mercy and salvation. It is one’s original intent and actions that measure true good and evil.”
Xiao Liu was stunned. For the first time, he thought her words made sense. “Master… what, then, is your true intention and obsession in practicing dark arts?”
Wen Shuyu smiled faintly. “Me? Of course, it’s to surpass Xiao Jingchen in strength and become the strongest in the Xiao Kingdom.”
Xiao Liu’s eyes lit up. She still sought to be powerful, to protect the people, just as she had a thousand years ago.
Then he heard her next words.
“And then I’ll bind Xiao Jingchen, imprison him, desecrate him thoroughly, trample him beneath my feet, make him my captive and plaything. I’ll taint those pure and lofty with worldly filth, bring the exalted crashing into dust, and force Xiao Jingchen to beg me, crying, saying he was blind for three years, pleading to be favored by me.”
Xiao Liu: !!!
It was certain now—Master had gone even more insane.
No, it must act quickly. The demonic bones had to be extracted, the Dao bones recovered—otherwise, disaster would be inevitable. Xiao Liu wiped sweat from its brow nervously.
Wen Shuyu’s lips curved into a playful smile. She flicked at imaginary dust on her fingernails and said lightly, “Relax, Xiao Liu. I was joking. Just teasing you.”
Xiao Liu felt like crying, powerless to argue.
…
After taking her warming medicine, Wen Shuyu went to sleep early that night.
Outside, the world was cloaked in darkness. Moonlight scattered across the ground through swaying birch trees, and the night wind rustled the bamboo, whispering softly.
Inside, on the couch, Wen Shuyu slept with her brows slightly furrowed, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead, as if she were dreaming of something.
Deep within an unfathomable cavern, black demonic energy filled the air. A figure in a dark cloak embroidered with golden patterns approached her, its face obscured.
Her hands and feet were bound, unable to struggle, with no way to retreat. The dark cloak fell onto her white robes.
A dagger shimmering with spiritual power slid inch by inch along her skirt. A sinister, seductive voice whispered into her ear with a soft laugh: “There’s no need for you to act, Master. If you truly wanted my demonic bones, I would gladly offer them myself.”
“But tell me, sitting properly in the Nine Heavens every day, expressionless, without desire or joy… don’t you find it boring?”
The laugh deepened, slow and refined, yet the words were indecent beyond measure: “That’s why I bound you here, Master—so we might indulge in the pleasures of the clouds and rain together, and I could serve your delight.”
“Grant me this once, and I will destroy my demonic bones and offer my life to you in return. How does that sound?”
Hot breath brushed her ear as the figure shamelessly continued, “Do you need me to help you undress?”