Shuanglian's heart fluttered under his gaze. She pinched off a piece of sugar cake and handed it over, stammering, "If you eat more, there won't be enough for me."
Nezha: "Stingy. Yesterday I was a good person, and today you won't even give me a piece of cake?"
The Clam Spirit hesitated for a few breaths, then tremblingly rolled up the whole cake and brought it to her lips. "Eat it all, then."
Nezha's tongue curled the sugar cake into his mouth. It melted instantly, the flavor dispersing. He straightened up, and in his delight, he reached his hand into the clam shell, poking at the pearls she had raised. "You treasure these like they're your life. After you take human form, where will you keep them?"
The Clam Spirit hummed softly, clear water spilling from her locked shell onto his palm. Nezha had something on his mind today; his eyes were listless and weary. When could the clam spirit become human?
If she became human, there would be so much more fun. But Nezha couldn't quite say where the fun lay. From the journey to conquer Zhou at Chentang Pass, to ascending to the Heavenly Court, Nezha had seen countless people—none of them had seemed interesting.
Even back at Chentang Pass, when Nezha was seven and caused a great disaster, he willingly cut open his belly and scraped his bones. First he severed one arm, then sliced off his flesh and bones piece by piece.
When it was done, the seven-year-old Nezha looked down at his flesh and bones. Even the Mortal Fleshly Body of the Spirit Pearl's reincarnation was nothing special.
All immortals were like this. What could a mere clam be?
Nezha poked with two fingers together, staring intently, wondering just how broken this weak little Clam Spirit's body could be.
After that day, Nezha went to see Taishang Laojun. He went alone, rarely interacting with immortals like Taishang Laojun.
A few days earlier, Nezha had gone to Tushita Palace and bluntly asked Laojun for pills. Laojun had said, "A rare guest," and given him the pills.
Today, upon hearing that Nezha wanted a Shape-shifting Pill, Laojun stroked his beard and laughed: "A clam? She's consumed more pills than immortals who've cultivated for a thousand years, yet still hasn't taken human form. Her talent is truly dull."
Nezha: "Fine."
The flames in the furnace blazed bright. Taishang Laojun untied a golden gourd and handed it to Nezha.
Nezha pinched the pill in his palm, unable to hide the stubbornness in his eyes. He thanked Laojun, who looked at him and thought of the marriage that Immortal Fuyuan had proposed.
—Everyone knew Nezha's temperament. A god of slaughter for thousands of years, drenched in killing aura. After becoming an immortal, his disposition had steadied somewhat, but it was still the same. The Heavenly Court thought him young but formidable, and regarded him as a reliable child.
After Immortal Fuyuan proposed the marriage, the news that Nezha had a destined match spread like wings through the Heavenly Court, even reaching the ears of the Queen Mother of the West.
Unfortunately, the Peach Banquet had been ruined by that monkey, so the Queen Mother never got to see Nezha or ask him about it in person.
While the assembled immortals chattered about who could possibly tame Nezha, Nezha himself was half-crouched by the lotus pond, feeding Shuanglian the Shape-shifting Pill.
The pill was bitter, and the Clam Spirit refused to take it. Her clam meat shrank entirely into her shell, determined not to come out even if it killed her.
Nezha, uncharacteristically patient, lowered his voice and coaxed the Clam Spirit. The Clam Spirit didn't move.
Nezha pinched the pill and forced it in, then poured some Jade Nectar down after it. Only then did the Clam Spirit swallow the pill into her stomach.
After eating the pill, her clam meat collapsed in her shell, exhausted and motionless, digesting the bitterness. Nezha offered her a lotus flower; she took two bites and tossed it away.
Nezha thought to himself that her temper was fierce, so he offered his fingertip instead. The Clam Spirit's tentacles wrapped around his fingertip and gave it a bite.
A slight sting traveled through his fingertip. Nezha took the opportunity to rub her clam meat and touch her little black eyes: "Such a temper."
The little black eyes closed. Nezha kept his original position and waited.
After the time it takes a few sticks of incense to burn, the Clam Spirit—that Clam Spirit—her clam meat went soft and limp, her pearls warm and smooth.
Nezha had no choice but to keep waiting. A few breaths later, the Clam Spirit suddenly released his fingertip and snapped her shell shut with a "bang."
The shell closed tight as a seal. Nezha's fingertip couldn't get in. He didn't force it open today. Instead, he patiently coaxed: "Open up and let me see. Could the pill have gone wrong?"
Nezha's fingertip slid along the seam of the shell, several times over. The Clam Spirit couldn't bear it anymore. She cracked her shell open slightly, and a hand—a size smaller than his—reached out and grabbed Nezha's hand.
That hand had just taken human form, never having seen sunlight. It was slender and delicate, nothing like a hand that had spent years wielding blades. The moment it extended, Nezha flipped his hand and caught it in his palm.
He squeezed her fingertips. Her fingertips were soft too, as if boneless. Five slender fingers, shorter than his, just right to hold.
There was no chance to pull her hand back. Shuanglian struggled, but couldn't break free. Instead, Nezha pulled out half her arm. Her skin showed a healthy pale pink, neither plump nor thin.
The Clam Spirit could no longer stay in her shell. A puff of mist flashed before Nezha's eyes, and Shuanglian was scooped out entirely. Her limbs went weak, and she tumbled into Nezha's arms.
Nezha caught her smoothly, pressing a warm palm against her bare back. The skin was slick and smooth, damp with the Clam Spirit's water. He lowered his head and met a pair of dark brown eyes.
Compared to the little black eyes, these were bigger now, the color clearer—dark brown like water-soaked gemstones.
Water droplets clung to the Clam Spirit's eyelashes. Her entire body was naked, black hair covering most of her form. She curled into a ball, but in Nezha's arms there was nowhere to hide. Every movement only pressed her deeper into his embrace, soaking the lower part of his robes wet.
Shuanglian's heart pounded like a drum as she cautiously lifted her head to look at Nezha. Nezha held her, his pupils slightly dilated, his expression unreadable. His gaze lingered on her face for a moment, utterly devoid of any sense of propriety between the sexes, before moving directly to her body, which a few strands of black hair couldn't fully conceal.
She could only curl her limbs tighter, burrowing completely into his embrace, leaving only her smooth back and legs that couldn't be tucked away. Shuanglian's body was no different from the one she'd had before transmigrating—not tall, with narrow shoulders, making it easy to hide herself in his arms.
Her intention in hiding was to keep the wicked troublemaker from seeing too much, but instead it had the opposite effect, pressing her right into his chest. Her hands rested on Nezha's shoulders, the young man's body solid and powerful beneath her palms.
Nezha held the warm, soft bundle in his arms tightly, freeing one hand to stroke her cheek. Like handling a clam's flesh, he pinched Shuanglian's chin and made her look up.
Nezha's face showed no expression, which only made Shuanglian more anxious. She felt his eyes were dark and deep, as if they could swallow things whole into his belly.
Shuanglian felt uneasy and pushed away from the demon lord, scrambling back toward her shell. But Nezha's Universe-Overturning Silk appeared from somewhere, winding around her wrist.
Shuanglian couldn't move, and pleaded in a supplicating tone: "Third Prince Nezha."
He traced her brow and the tip of her nose, then tapped her lips. Her lips were moist, wetting his fingers. Nezha touched her lips again, his fingertip pressing slightly into them.
Nezha felt his thirst growing more severe—his throat parched, his fingers itching. He pulled her into his arms, kneading and squeezing her with wicked intent, until she had no strength left to beg, and then he would swallow her whole.