Chapter 199: Demon Dad and Buddha Dad

In Wanxi Prefecture’s Little West Mountain stood the West Mountain Temple. Qian had been here twice before.

Once, she stayed for a long time. The other time, just briefly.

She had personally witnessed the transformation of the once-abandoned West Mountain Temple into a thriving place of worship. The barren lands below turned into fertile fields, and life slowly returned to the desolate surroundings.

She had also seen it years later, when it had truly flourished—herb gardens stretching in neat rows, ancient trees towering high, and wisps of incense smoke curling through the old temple halls.

Now that she was back, it felt a little different from how she remembered.

Maybe it was because she came in winter this time. It had snowed not long ago, blanketing the land in white. The trees and rooftops on the mountain were all dusted with snow.

As Qian made her way up Little West Mountain, she stopped by the roadside to play in the snow for a while. The snow here was deep and soft, barely disturbed. Just looking at it made her want to grab a handful.

And so she did—clutching a handful of snow as she reached the stone steps leading up the mountain. The steps had been swept clean. Wearing her snow boots, she stepped onto them.

She had been carried or piggybacked up these steps by many people before. With each step she took now, familiar faces flashed through her mind.

As she neared the West Mountain Temple, she heard a rustling sound—someone was sweeping snow at the temple gate.

When she approached, the sweeping stopped.

A tall, broad-shouldered monk named Mingzhen stood there with a large broom. He looked at her and said, “It’s freezing out here. Come inside and warm up by the fire.”

Qian followed him in.

She took off her damp snow boots and slipped on a pair of cloth shoes—far too big for her feet.

She sat by the brazier, resting her face in her hands, eyes fixed on the rack above the fire, where sugar cakes, chestnuts, and a few tangerines were warming.

Mingzhen poured her a cup of water and asked, “Hungry?”

“Not at all!” Qian said, even as her hand reached for a chestnut and popped it into her mouth.

She couldn’t help but keep sneaking glances at Mingzhen with her round, curious eyes. “Do you know who I am?”

Mingzhen looked at her twin braids and smiled. “You still like riding wooden carts?”

Qian replied, “…I’m in fifth grade now. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Then added, “Of course I still ride them!”

The Venerable Master Dad she wanted to see—Wuxin—wasn’t there. Mingzhen told her that if fate allowed, they’d meet again. No need to force it. He didn’t know where their elder master had gone this time either.

After chatting with Mingzhen, Qian ran off to the smoky kitchen, where steam billowed from the stove. A tan-skinned monk was steaming buns.

It was Mingde.

Once the same height as her, he now stood like a tower. She had seen him like this before, but back then, her feelings weren’t nearly as complicated as they were now.

“Where’d this kid come from? Looking for food?”

Mingde noticed the little one peeking around the kitchen door, dressed in a strange-looking padded jacket.

He pulled a bun from the steaming basket and cheerfully offered it to her. “Here, eat.”

Clearly, he didn’t recognize her.

Qian stood next to Mingde and held her hand up to his waist, measuring her height with a sigh and a shake of her head. Then she took a big bite of the bun.

It was soft and delicious—he’d clearly inherited Master Yinhe’s culinary skills.

Master Yinhe wasn’t here either. Word was he had long since returned to Bodhi Mountain.

After finishing the bun, Qian ran off to the back courtyard.

The snow there had also been swept clean. She walked along the stone path, measuring each slab with her feet.

These stones had been laid by Venerable Master Dad himself. She had helped too.

Beside the path stood a large tree with a thick trunk. Qian reached out to hug it, but her arms couldn’t wrap all the way around.

A smooth boulder sat beneath the tree. It must be a great spot to sit in the summer—but in winter, it’d freeze your butt.

So she didn’t sit long before hopping up and running back inside to warm up by the fire.

She had a vegetarian meal with Mingzhen, Mingde, and a few unfamiliar monks.

She didn’t see Venerable Master Dad this time. Even after returning twice more, she still didn’t see him.

But the snow had melted at the foot of the mountain, and Mingde and the others were out plowing the fields. Qian joined in the fun.

During a break, Mingzhen patted her head in comfort. “You’ll see him.”

Qian reached up and patted his head in return. The smoothness of her now-grown-up brother’s bald head gave her a bit of comfort.

Having failed to find Venerable Master Dad, Qian had to consider visiting her other dad.

Her expression turned serious. She had a strong feeling that the red-haired dad might kill her the moment he laid eyes on her.

She sighed and fretted… but in the end, she still wanted to see him.

Luckily, she came prepared!

Qian pulled out her magic wand and transformed her hair into a fiery red, her eyes into gleaming gold.

Bet you didn’t expect that—she just learned magic!

At least now she looked the part. If Bad Dad decided to disown her, she could still run away! Hahaha!

But her luck wasn’t great. After finally sneaking into Demon City, she heard that Demon Lord Huai You Nong had been in closed-door cultivation for years.

Even the elder guardians of the Demon Palace hadn’t seen him in a long time.

A few years ago, the Demon Lord had killed so many that it sent shockwaves through the realm. Since then, the Demon Realm had remained relatively stable.

Stable, yes—but boring. So when a child suddenly showed up at the Demon Palace claiming to be the Demon Lord’s daughter, it caused quite a stir among the two Guardians.

In the past, if someone had dared claim to be Huai You Nong’s child, no one would’ve believed it. But after what happened with the last Demon Lord’s daughter, people had come to accept that he might actually have a child.

If there was one, then a second wasn’t out of the question.

“You’re really the Lord’s daughter?” The Left Guardian, Luo Ye, eyed Qian suspiciously.

The child before him had the same dark red hair and golden eyes as their Lord, but there wasn’t a trace of demonic aura on her. She seemed entirely human.

Luo Ye didn’t buy it. He suspected she was a spy sent by someone with ulterior motives.

The Right Guardian, Liusha, gently pressed down her brother’s rising hand and asked Qian with a seemingly kind smile, “You’re just a mortal. How did you make it to the Demon Palace unscathed? Did someone bring you here?”

She was more interested in catching the mastermind behind the scenes.

As the two of them spiraled into thoughts of conspiracy and intrigue, the child before them suddenly beamed and said cheerfully, “Liusha! Luo Ye! It’s me—Qian!”

The siblings—and a few elders who had gathered to watch—froze. Their expressions darkened as they stared at her.

They were the ones who knew best how much the Demon Lord had cared for that child. Back then, to save Qian’s life, he had slaughtered countless demons.

He scoured the realms for anyone who could heal her, even went so far as to abduct the entire Crossing Life Pavilion. He had even considered using his own flesh and blood to sustain her life.

The Demon Lord was the sky to the Demon Race. Under his iron rule, even his most trusted Guardians dared not get close to him.

Only that child could sit in his lap, tug his hair, bite his fingers, argue with him—drive him to speechless fury.

Through her, Liusha and Luo Ye had occasionally felt like they could get a little closer to their Lord.

Until the child died.

The Demon Lord didn’t seem grief-stricken, but he began a prolonged period of closed-door cultivation. He refused to step foot into the bedchamber where Qian had once slept, nor did he allow anyone else to enter and tidy up. Everything was to remain exactly as it had been.

Han Qiu, who had once taught Qian and treated her illnesses, was still being kept in the Demon Palace. The cook who had prepared her meals, the attendants who had cared for her—all remained.

Even the broken floor tiles and cracked palace columns that Qian had damaged were left untouched.

It was as if he wanted to preserve every trace of that child.

And yet, her body—he had sent it away.

Neither Liusha nor Luo Ye could understand.

Whether the Demon Lord had only doted on the child because she was his, or had truly come to love her for who she was, now, hearing her name again so suddenly, both felt a sharp pang deep in their chests.

It had been a long time since they’d heard that name.

The little girl before them was still speaking earnestly, “I really am her! I know so many of your secrets!”

“Our secrets?” Luo Ye sneered, pulling out a small dagger. “Let’s hear it then. If I’m not satisfied with your answer, you won’t be leaving here alive, little one.”

Qian beckoned him closer, cupped her mouth, and began whispering a string of chatter into his ear.

As Luo Ye listened, the murderous glint in his eyes suddenly faltered. He slowly put away the dagger and began to study her closely.

What she said was indeed a secret—one that only Luo Ye and the original Qian knew. It was about the time when Qian was gravely ill, and he had secretly taken her out to play.

He’d bought her food she wasn’t supposed to eat, which made her vomit violently and worsened her condition. He’d been so terrified he thought the Demon Lord would have his head.

After she finished, Qian waved at Liusha. Seeing her brother’s dazed expression, Liusha leaned down to listen to Qian’s whispers.

Moments later, Liusha, too, was staring at her in shock.

She had often cared for Qian and had done many things behind the Demon Lord’s back—things only she and Qian knew. Like hiding snacks for her, or buying her all kinds of dangerous toys.

As she listened, Liusha slowly crouched in front of Qian, gently held her hand, and asked softly, “Qian, how did you come back?”

It was the same question as before, but her tone had completely changed. The fearsome Demon Race protector had turned into a gentle older sister.

Qian rolled her eyes, then confidently declared, “It was the most amazing Buddhist Disciple Wuxin in the world who saved me! Do you know the Buddhist Disciple Wuxin? From Bodhi Mountain—they can do anything!”

Of course Liusha knew of the Buddhist Disciple Wuxin. If it was him, then maybe it was possible.

More importantly, she was one of the few who knew that, in the end, the Demon Lord had sent Qian’s body to Wuxin.

If that was the case, then Qian’s resurrection—and her current state—made sense.

With the two protectors won over, Qian quickly began to reign over the Demon Palace like a little queen.

To celebrate the return of their young mistress, the long-silent Demon Palace burst into life with an unprecedented level of festivity.

Banquets flowed like rivers, dazzling performances were brought in from Demon City, and elders and Demon Race city lords from across the land sent gifts while discreetly probing for information.

At night, the ever-burning lanterns lit up the Demon Palace, and brilliant fireworks exploded endlessly in the sky, lighting up the heavens till dawn.

In a cave beneath Mount Zhuding, the Demon Lord Huai You Nong was jolted awake by the commotion outside.

What the hell is going on out there? he thought irritably.

Had he been in closed-door cultivation for so long that some Demon Race factions were getting restless again? Or had the Cultivation Realm finally launched an attack?

He tried to close his eyes and continue cultivating, but it was just too noisy.

Fuming, he ended his cultivation and decided to go see for himself.

When Huai You Nong appeared in the skies above the Demon Palace, his brows furrowed deeply at the sight of the lavish decorations.

Inside, Qian was lounging on the throne, happily eating and drinking.

Liusha and Luo Ye flanked her, while a crowd of Demon Race flattered and fawned below. Over a hundred musicians and dancers performed in a grand display of decadence.

“Does the young mistress like this performance? If so, we’ll keep these dancers here in the palace to perform for you every day.”

“I love it! They’re so good!”

“Young mistress, this is the finest gem from this year’s newly discovered mine. A gift for your amusement!”

“Wow, it’s so pretty!”

The atmosphere was so jubilant, Qian looked like she was about to leap up and shout, “The old king is dead, long live the new!”

But the moment a certain figure appeared, the fiery mood in the hall froze solid.

Everyone turned in terror as Huai You Nong strode slowly across the carpet, past the trembling dancers, and up the steps to the throne.

Qian, who had been holding a fruit platter, quietly set it down and shrank behind Liusha.

“Can someone tell me what’s going on here?” Huai You Nong asked coldly.

Someone cautiously replied, “We’re celebrating the return of Young Mistress Qian.”

Huai You Nong’s gaze snapped to Qian. In an instant, he yanked her out from behind Liusha.

Before she could react, he bit down hard on her arm, leaving a bloody mark.

“You say you’re my bloodline. Then why can’t I taste it? Hmm?”

Qian looked at her arm, and sorrow welled up in her eyes. She whimpered, “I knew it! I knew you wouldn’t recognize me, wuwuwu!”

Liusha bravely stepped forward. “My lord, I truly believe she is Qian. She said the Buddhist Disciple Wuxin saved her.”

“Hmph. Little liar,” Huai You Nong muttered, but he didn’t kill her. Instead, he scooped her up and strode off, leaving a hall full of stunned Demon Race members.

Dangling under his arm, Qian clutched her messy hair.

“You’re just a mortal now. What’s with this hair?” Huai You Nong asked.

“Ugh, I’m gonna puke!” Qian shouted.

“Weren’t you just eating happily? If you dare throw up, I’ll cut out your tongue.”

Qian kicked her legs in protest.

She knew it! She never should’ve come to see him! No—she should’ve run while he was still in seclusion!

Before she could actually throw up, Huai You Nong finally set her down.

His expression was grim, as if he’d just realized she really was a fragile mortal now, not a tough little Demon Race brat.

He looked like a resentful stepfather, not a single kind word in his mouth.

“Wuxin brought you back to life? And now that you’re a mortal, what are you doing in the Demon Race’s territory?”

Qian was about to snap back, but her eyes sparkled with an idea. She leaned in, pitifully rubbing against him and said, “I missed you, Dad. Are you okay?”

“I didn’t die. I came back. So don’t be sad for me anymore.”

Sincerity is the ultimate weapon!

Huai You Nong looked down at her, his expression growing more and more peculiar.

He looked like he had a mouthful of harsh words ready to spill out, but something was holding them back. His expression was bristling, as if he’d just been grossed out by a child acting all cutesy.

Or maybe, just maybe, there was a hint of comfort in his eyes—something like nostalgia he didn’t want to show.

Qian blinked up at him, grabbed his hand, and gave it a shake. “Dad, did you miss me?”

The mischievous little brat nearly burst out laughing at the look on his face. Oh man, this was too funny—hahaha!

“Enough. Stop spouting nonsense,” Huai You Nong finally said.

Whoa, is he actually blushing? Qian was absolutely delighted.

“What’s up with your hair and eyes? Did Wu Xin do this to you?” Huai You Nong asked, oddly fixated on it.

Qian answered honestly, “Nope, I did it myself. I thought maybe this way you’d recognize me.”

Huai You Nong let out a snort. Did she really think he identified his offspring by something as basic as hair and eye color?

“I can change the color, you know. I can even go rainbow!” she said, and without missing a beat, her hair shimmered into a cascade of rainbow hues.

Huai You Nong frowned again. “What kind of power are you using? It’s so… strange.”

“You’re just a mortal with a human body. What’s the point of messing around with weird techniques? If you’re not going to cultivate properly, you might as well go off and learn some Demon Race sorcery.”

Qian had to carefully sift through all the harsh words to find the awkward concern buried underneath. She couldn’t help but sigh.

“Dad, you’re more awkward than the fifth-grade boys at my school.”

When she was dragged off for a talent assessment and forced into cultivation, Qian silently vowed: Never coming back again.

The second time she came, she had rebellious green hair—and got hauled off to train by Huai You Nong.

He used rare spiritual herbs and treasures to boost her aptitude. She screamed in pain, and he still scolded her for being useless.

They argued the entire afternoon.

The third time, with purple hair now, Qian was sent off to the Poyue Sword Sect to cultivate.

“Poyue Sword Sect? Dad, isn’t that where Immortal Lord Lingyu is—your sworn enemy?”

“So what?”

“Dad… you’re not sending me in as a spy, are you?”

“With how useless you are, what kind of spy could you possibly be?” Huai You Nong said. “Most of the sects in the Cultivation Realm are all name and no substance. Only the Poyue Sword Sect has anything worthwhile.”

Qian was already drowning in schoolwork and really didn’t want to add more to her plate. She puffed up and declared, “I’m the proud young mistress of the Demon Race! How can I go off and cultivate like that?”

Huai You Nong gave her a sideways glance. “From this day forward, we sever our father-daughter ties. You’re no longer the Demon Race’s young mistress. Go cultivate, and don’t cause trouble.”

Qian: “…” Fine. You win.

Every time she came to this world, Qian either went to the Demon Palace to argue with her Father Brother or took a stroll around West Mountain Temple.

As usual, after putting on a rebellious show at the Demon Palace, she wandered off to West Mountain Temple.

It was the height of summer. She lay down under the big tree in the backyard and dozed off without realizing it.

She slept until the sun was setting behind the mountains. When she opened her eyes, the last rays of sunlight painted the sky, and someone was sitting beside her.

The man had a calm expression, a long staff resting in front of him, and his round head gleamed golden in the sunset.

Qian rubbed her eyes.

He turned to her with a gentle smile and reached out to pat her fluffy head.