3 – Super Happy. Her mushroom cap, no, her head!…
The character for “mushroom” and the character for “Demon” were not written the same way—this was something Elder Brother had long ago corrected Liu Wuzhi about.
Lingzhi and mushrooms were close relatives among fungi. Since the Demon Lord was not a mushroom, then the Demon Lord definitely couldn’t be her kind.
Only after instinctively rejecting the idea did Liu Wuzhi remember her current situation.
Every species had its own way of survival. For example, parasitic vines needed to tightly cling to other trees to survive; clownfish and sea anemones complemented each other through symbiosis; and mayflies, born at dawn and dead by dusk, had the sole mission of finding a mate to reproduce.
In comparison, Lingzhi was much more leisurely. Hyphae sprouted from spores; they only needed to connect with the hyphae of another Lingzhi to spark new life.
On one hand, she upheld the principle of respecting biodiversity; on the other, fearing she might arouse suspicion for the original owner, she hurriedly explained, “I mean, the Sovereign Lord might not necessarily be suitable for mating with me… uh, attending the bedchamber.”
Whether in the Immortal Sect or the demon realm, the word “mating” didn’t seem to be well-liked, so she might as well follow local customs.
Yuan Lan simply assumed she was being sarcastic. With a wave of his hand, he summoned a group of corpse puppets, who escorted Liu Wuzhi to clean up and sit before the dressing mirror.
Wuzhi’s body was quite different from Liu Wuzhi’s. Even draped in intricate, heavy robes, it remained slender and frail, seemingly unable to withstand wind or sun.
The corpse puppets couldn’t speak, much less care about Liu Wuzhi’s request to style her hair in twin braids. They mechanically carried out their orders.
In the surrounding silence, this was the first time Liu Wuzhi clearly saw Wuzhi’s appearance: an oval face, long eyelashes, a sharp nose, thin lips—the epitome of a classic beauty. Pointed ears and demon horns enhanced her otherworldly aura. Her long, ash-brown hair was naturally curly, with deep purple ombre at the ends. Beyond the dissonance, there was a vaguely familiar, nostalgic quality to her demeanor.
These features seemed to possess a captivating, enchanting power. Staring into the mirror for too long, even Liu Wuzhi felt her own heart racing wildly.
As stray hairs were combed back, a glaring demonic mark was revealed on her forehead, flowing like fire, crimson as blood—as if forged from years of accumulated hatred. She was not happy.
Though they were strangers who met by chance, Liu Wuzhi inexplicably felt a pang of heartache for her. She averted her gaze to distract herself.
Attending the bedchamber in the demon realm was probably similar to dual cultivation in the Immortal Sect. Besides satisfying instinctual needs, partners could also help heal each other’s wounds.
Looking on the bright side, Wuzhi’s soul was shattered and fragmented. If dual cultivation with the Demon Lord could awaken Wuzhi, perhaps she could figure out the reason for her accidental transmigration.
But the problem was, she only knew how to release spores! She didn’t know how to dual cultivate, nor did she know how to attend the bedchamber! Elder Brother hadn’t taught her this!
If the Demon Lord saw through her incompetence, dying outright would be one thing, but if her identity was exposed and the Azure Mist Sect got implicated, that would be disastrous.
After pondering this, little Lingzhi grew even more worried.
Dressed in heavy, cumbersome ceremonial robes, Liu Wuzhi stepped out of the room and lifted her face to Yuan Lan. “Brother Yuan Lan, has the Sovereign Lord ever had anyone attend his bedchamber before?”
…The usage of the phrase “attend the bedchamber” didn’t seem quite right?
Yuan Lan didn’t overthink it and casually replied, “The Sovereign Lord has summoned over a hundred people to his bedchamber.” Unfortunately, none of them survived the night.
Unaware of the details, Liu Wuzhi pouted.
Oh no, then the Demon Lord must have a lot of experience with bedchamber attendance. Wuzhi had been in the harem for three years, so she definitely wasn’t a novice either. If she went in Wuzhi’s place today, she would surely be exposed.
“Can we switch people now? I think the other sisters are quite eager to go.”
“The Sovereign Lord specifically requested you. I have no say in the matter.”
Liu Wuzhi’s mind raced.
If she couldn’t avoid or defy him, then the only option was to try pleasing the Demon Lord and persuade him to postpone the bedchamber attendance. Looking on the bright side, if communication went smoothly, she might even ask the Demon Lord to gently tear the dual realm seal. She could then return the real Wuzhi—who would attend the bedchamber—to the Demon Lord, and she herself could go home.
Little Lingzhi knew far too little about the Demon Lord, only vaguely recalling the dry phrases from the old master’s lectures: a heart of stone, heterochromatic eyes, blood drawn from the brow, nourished by greed, hatred, and delusion—an undying body that could survive even a pierced heart.
It was said that Baili Zheque had once been struck down into the Heaven-Burying Abyss by the Imperial Ancestor of the Immortal Alliance, yet he returned alive a century ago, not only overthrowing the Celestial Terrace but also slaughtering his way through the demon realm.
Though things seemed peaceful for now, it was only because the Demon Lord was preoccupied with seeking revenge. Once he stabilized the demon realm, he would likely retaliate against the Immortal Sects. The elders and disciples tirelessly reinforced the dual realm seal, also preparing for the possible war between immortals and demons.
The stories spanning thousands of years were grand and tumultuous, but for the Little Immortal Grass, who had only assumed human form for two years, they held no significance.
Her immortal path had just begun; slaying demons and vanquishing evil was not yet her concern. Besides, if a war truly broke out, a human-shaped lingzhi like her would more likely be captured for alchemy.
In short, aside from pleasing the Demon Lord and returning to her true form, Liu Wuzhi cared little about anything else.
No species would refuse delicious food. The eldest senior brother had said that the Demon Lord fed on the Seven Emotions and Six Desires.
What did the Seven Emotions and Six Desires taste like? Liu Wuzhi couldn’t imagine, but surely happiness tasted better, right?
She carried a bellyful of happy thoughts. By sharing some of them, the Demon Lord could be well-fed, and she could use the opportunity to build rapport—in the plant world, this was called mutualism.
Upon reaching the waterside pavilion corridor from the previous night, Yuan Lan went no further.
“Remember, the Sovereign Lord despises spies the most,” he whispered, half-threatening, half-warning. “When the last assassin was flayed alive with three thousand cuts, the blood sprayed three zhang high.”
Now, Liu Wuzhi was alone.
The full moon above was tinged with blood, while faint, ethereal zither music drifted from afar. Darkness and an aura of extravagance quietly spread with the night mist and dim lanterns.
The Demon Lord’s true form was a mutation born from the fusion of an Ancient Demon Dragon and Abyss Amethyst. This palace was built by his power alone. The molten ruins beneath the floating island were the true former royal city.
Having witnessed so many vicissitudes of time, the Demon Lord must be older than even the Azure Mist Sect’s leader, right?
Then he needed even more care and attention.
Liu Wuzhi adjusted her mindset, striving to recall all her happy memories, hoping to let the Demon Lord—who had been solitary for many years—have a full meal. Starlit rain, dewy moss, tender grass, and fluffy little rabbits were all her favorites.
The Amethyst corridor was long and deep. Having only recently assumed human form, Liu Wuzhi was still unskilled at controlling her human body. Accustomed to the simple robes and short skirts of the sect, she now wore lavish attire. Distracted, she lost her footing, stepped on the hem of her dress, and fell with a crisp “thud.”
—Her cap, ah no, her head!
The fall was like a stone tossed into a calm lake, causing the demon energy sealed within the lanterns of bone and skin to leak out. The zither music magnified the ghostly shadows countless times, gathering an aura of death. Even a demon realm general would shudder with fear here, yet Liu Wuzhi paid it no mind.
Priceless hairpins, hairpins, pearls, and jade scattered across the floor, but she was only busy rummaging through her sleeves to check the condition of the cap and stem… no, the damage to her head and arms.
Places without soil were not very friendly to Lingzhi, but fortunately, Wuzhi’s body was quite resilient to falls.
When she looked up, a fresh, bloodied skull suddenly crashed before her eyes. Dark red blood foam gushed from the shattered jawbone, and the sharp shriek sounded like a baby’s cry.
“Thud—rumble—”
Then came the second, the third. Skulls wrapped in a foul, bloody wind poured down like a torrential rain. Each skull had dark amethyst nails driven into its eye sockets, and its crown was carved with twisted curse inscriptions.
Shattered, broken, terrifying—but only to humans.
Liu Wuzhi, born in the peaceful and serene Immortal Sect, had never seen such novel things before. At first, she gasped in surprise, but once she counted that the skulls had mostly finished falling, she immediately scrambled to her feet and eagerly leaned in to observe, her eyes sparkling with the excitement of discovering a new toy.
Taking advantage of the fact that no one was around, she extended her index finger and lightly touched the crown of one of the skulls. The residual warmth from the amethyst nail sent a chill through her fingertip. “So smooth.”
Suddenly, black mist sprayed from the shattered nasal cavity, and the jawbone snapped shut, biting onto half of her sleeve.
“It’s still reflecting the moonlight,” Liu Wuzhi remarked as she lifted the skull to her eyes for a closer look. Her slender hand quickly traced it from top to bottom, then immediately withdrew guiltily, like a child who had secretly crossed a boundary.
She had touched a skull from the demon realm—how thrilling!
So happy!
On the qin platform, invisible to Liu Wuzhi, a pair of hands playing the demon qin paused slightly.
The sea of emotions and desires nurtured inner demons, and all greed, anger, obsession, and resentment would become nourishment for the Demon Lord.
Yet this night, all that could be gathered along the melody was a chaotic, disorderly joy, like a lively, bounding rabbit.
This taste displeased the Demon Lord immensely.
The qin music ceased, but the happy rabbit grew even more vibrant. As Liu Wuzhi stood up, she secretly stroked a nearby skull again, a thrilling sense of transgression surging in her heart—like a good child secretly doing something naughty.
As long as she didn’t say it out loud, even her senior brother wouldn’t know.
Keep being happy! Super happy!
Before she could take a step, the entire palace suddenly shook violently.
A fierce wind shattered the skulls scattered across the floor into bone dust, and Liu Wuzhi was swept into the air. This whirlwind was countless times more violent than Yuan Lan’s fan-induced breeze. Her layered robes flapped wildly as her body spun through several winding corners. Her hairpins scattered, and she landed flat on her back, crashing through a crystal curtain and slamming heavily onto the floor of the bedchamber.
“Kneel.”
The voice that descended from above was icy and filled with anger.
Author’s Note:
Demon Lord: Despair, grieve, tremble in fear.
Zhizhi: Secretly happy, secretly guilty, secretly thrilled.
Seeking collections for the upcoming story “Little Pitiful Junior Brother Rescue Plan [Transmigration into a Book],” synopsis below:
【Black Lotus Junior Brother x Porcelain Doll Senior Sister】
【Stay Positive, No Darkening Allowed】
Ending a story abruptly feels great in the moment, but Lan Wan never expected to transmigrate into the nameless cannon fodder of her own unfinished work—the senior sister of the tragic male lead, Hua Jin. Fighting enemies with a sword in one hand while coughing up blood in the wind—in short, both strong and fragile.
According to the plot, not only does she constantly drain her junior brother’s cultivation, but when Hua Jin is physically and emotionally wounded by the female lead and forced to endure a hundred heavenly thunderbolts alone, she takes advantage of his plight to demand he cut out his heart to extend her own life—only to be killed by her junior brother in a desperate counterattack. Afterward, Hua Jin stands alone, falls into demonhood, and becomes the great villain who destroys the world.
Lan Wan weakly massaged her temples: The pit she dug herself, she had to fill it even if it meant risking everything.
At first, Hua Jin was as obedient as a drenched puppy.
When she sprained her waist practicing swordplay, Hua Jin silently brought her ointment.
When she fell off a cliff while sword-flying, Hua Jin caught her immediately.
Even when Lan Wan merely choked on a sip of water, Hua Jin would appear at just the right moment, gently patting her back: “Senior Sister, be careful.”
Until she saw the young man standing amidst a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, slowly wiping his fingers clean before turning around with a gentle smile: “Senior Sister, the wind is strong outside. Let’s go back.”
“…?!”
Lan Wan, dragging her sickly body, fled overnight. Just as she reached the mountain gate, someone gently embraced her from behind.
Hua Jin applied spiritual medicine to her, his fingers lightly stroking her wrist bone, his smile not pitiful in the slightest: “Senior Sister, don’t you plan to let Ah Jin cut open his heart to save your life anymore?”
Lan Wan’s vision went dark.
—This tragic male supporting character was actually reborn!
Before meeting Lan Wan, Hua Jin had already killed countless “senior sisters.”
Only for this one did he build a golden house, hang golden bells, drape golden veils—sometimes devout and fervent, sometimes humble and pleading—using every means possible to impose his endless greed upon her.
Leave? Not a chance.
At the end of the story, it was the demon who chose to kill himself to send her home.
#Wait, wasn’t he supposed to be a pure and innocent junior brother?
#Got locked in a dark room by a paper man after transmigrating into a book
#Is it too late to change the plot now?