Chapter 187: Protagonist 25

“I don’t like kids. They’re too noisy, too annoying.”

Lang Qingyue said this as she tilted her head to dodge the little hand in her arms that kept trying to pinch her cheek.

She wouldn’t let her, but Qian was determined. She stretched her arm as far as it would go, reaching for Lang Qingyue’s face.

Lang Qingyue leaned back, locking the restless child’s legs tightly in her arms. Qian started pushing off with one leg, then the other, trying to climb up, grunting and giggling as she reached for Lang Qingyue’s mouth.

Watching the two of them tangled up like that, Xue Yingying stood nearby with a bowl in her hands, trying to mediate.

“Master, don’t fuss with Qian anymore. Just let her down so she can eat.”

Lang Qingyue’s face darkened. “You think I’m the one not letting her go? She’s the one pestering me.”

Kids are a bit like cats sometimes—the more you ignore them, the more they want to cling to you.

“She’s a lot like your mother when she was little. Just chubbier.”

Lang Qingyue peeled the child off her and weighed her in her hands, making a judgment, then pushed her gently on the back to get her to move away.

“Go on, go play by yourself.”

Qian turned her head, made a little loop, and ended up flopping right back into her arms.

Lang Qingyue glared at her junior disciple on the bed. “Come get your clingy child.”

Gongxi Yue, eyes closed, replied lazily, “Forgive me, Martial Aunt. I’m at a critical point in my cultivation.”

This kid would stick to anyone she liked the look of. Once she got her fill, she’d move on.

With her own mother not stepping in, Lang Qingyue had no choice but to hold the wide-eyed little troublemaker while her disciple fed her.

The kid looked pretty content, actually—leaning back in her lap, practically melting into her, opening her mouth for each spoonful. One chubby little leg draped over Lang Qingyue’s knee, swinging slightly, while her hands played with a jade ornament at Lang Qingyue’s waist.

By the time they were on the third bowl, Lang Qingyue gave Qian’s belly a puzzled pat.

“Where is all this food going? This is spiritual food…”

She pinched Qian’s plump little arm, then suddenly frowned. Something felt off.

“Master, didn’t you say you were going to head to Ninth City alone? Are you waiting for Senior Sister now?” Xue Yingying asked casually as she scraped the last spoonful from the bowl.

Lang Qingyue suddenly snapped out of it. Right—wasn’t she supposed to have left already? Why was she still here holding a child?

With her cheeks full, Qian was abruptly dumped into Xue Yingying’s arms. Lang Qingyue grabbed her sword, turned, and vanished in an instant.

“You really didn’t need to remind Martial Aunt,” Gongxi Yue said, eyes still closed.

Xue Yingying blinked. “Ah—should I go get her back?”

Outside, the sky was painted with the colors of sunset. Gongxi Yue finally drew the overflowing spiritual energy back into her body, opened her eyes, and stood up. “No need. Leave it to me. You stay here with Qian.”

Qian reacted fast. She tumbled out of Xue Yingying’s arms and grabbed her mother as she passed by, mumbling:

“I wanna go too!”

Gongxi Yue paused. “Who said anything about going out to play? I’m going to fight.”

She squeezed her little paw and warned, “Stay here and behave.”

Mu Yiling was already waiting below, mounted on her White Tiger Spirit Beast. Gongxi Yue exchanged a glance with her, then took off on her sword. Mu Yiling followed, disappearing into the night atop her Spirit Beast.

Qian grumbled, clearly unhappy, but didn’t cry. Her mother often went into closed-door cultivation or occasionally left for missions. She was used to being looked after by others.

So after a couple of whines, when she could no longer see her mother or godmother, she immediately snuggled up to Xue Yingying and said, “Let’s go out too.”

“No can do,” Xue Yingying coaxed her. “There’s nothing fun outside. Look, it’s already dark. How about we go to bed instead?”

Qian wasn’t having it. She squirmed and wriggled in her arms, and Xue Yingying, at her wit’s end, asked, “What do you want to do outside? We can go tomorrow, okay?”

Qian finally pouted and told the truth: “Let’s go find Zhenzhen. Zhenzhen’s gone.”

She missed her familiar playmate. But noticing that her mother and Zhenzhen didn’t get along, she’d sneakily kept it to herself, planning to find her quietly.

Meanwhile, Gongxi Yue and Mu Yiling arrived at Ninth City, only to find it shrouded in darkness, overrun with glowing, violet-blue Demon-Devouring Grass.

Every alley, rooftop, even the rivers running through the city were filled with these towering plants, each over two meters tall, swaying in eerie unison.

They glowed with a dreamlike luminescence. Atop the tallest watchtower on the city wall, Lang Qingyue stood, her hands continuously channeling the growth of the Demon-Devouring Grass.

Though she was a wood-element cultivator with little offensive power, she had become one of the most feared by the Demon Race, surpassing even Senior Disciple Jing Lingzhao. It was all thanks to her mutated wood-element spiritual root, which could produce Demon-Devouring Grass capable of absorbing demonic energy.

The Demon Race relied on demonic energy to survive. Once it was drained, they lost most of their power.

As the name implied, Demon-Devouring Grass fed on demonic energy and grew rapidly.

When Lang Qingyue had first arrived at Ninth City, it looked like a normal city. The Liu Residence, which Xue Yingying had identified as a Demon Race stronghold, was nowhere to be found. She suspected it was hidden by an Illusion Technique.

Most cultivators would be helpless against such a barrier. But Lang Qingyue didn’t try to break the illusion. Instead, she took a different approach—draining the area of demonic energy with her Demon-Devouring Grass.

Once the demons maintaining the illusion ran out of energy, the illusion would naturally collapse, revealing the truth.

Gongxi Yue and Mu Yiling landed on two other watchtowers, careful not to disturb Martial Aunt Lang. They quietly scanned the city for abnormalities.

“Looks like the demons haven’t evacuated yet.”

“I can sense their presence—somewhere in the west side of the city. Do you think our missing Snowfall Palace disciples are there too?”

“Let’s tear it open and find out.”

At that moment, deep within the city, the Skin-Painting Demon was cursing under her breath, gritting her teeth as she absorbed another magic stone to replenish her energy.

It was all that damned Miasma Demon’s fault—sweet-talking her into staying. Said their lair had already been exposed and they didn’t have time to retreat, so why not turn the tables and set a trap in the city, make sure Gongxi Yue never made it out alive.

She must have been out of her mind back then, thinking that with the three Demon Generals and herself, even if Gongxi Yue dared to show up, they could still keep her trapped.

But now—look at this mess!

That old widow Lang Qingyue from the Yunyin Immortal Sect had suddenly barged in, catching them completely off guard.

The Illusion Demon was practically useless—its demonic energy had been drained so badly that it could barely maintain its Illusion Technique.

Forget about hiding in the shadows for a sneak attack—at this rate, they’d be stripped bare and left with nothing but their naked behinds showing. What a disgrace to the Demon Race!

“This won’t do. We can’t keep going like this. I’ll lure Gongxi Yue into the city. Miasma Demon, stick to the original plan—and don’t you dare run off again halfway through. If I die, I’ll drag you down with me!”

With a swipe of her hand, the Skin-Painting Demon summoned a group of freshly made puppets from within the building. At first glance, they all wore familiar faces—Gongxi Yue’s acquaintances. Among them were disciples from the Yunyin Immortal Sect, Xue Yingying, Wen Xunzhen, and even Qian.

The Skin-Painting Demon had once clashed with Gongxi Yue in a forest and had noticed the child always by her side. Just from their expressions, it was clear they were close. So she’d crafted lookalike puppets as a precaution—and now it was time to put them to use.

Their original plan had been simple: wait for Gongxi Yue to arrive and search the city. Then, Illusion Demon would trap her in an illusion, Skin-Painting Demon would ambush her with the puppets, and Miasma Demon would corrupt the city’s residents, turning them into obstacles.

But now things had changed. They hadn’t even made it into the city yet. Skin-Painting Demon had no choice but to draw them in first.

Gongxi Yue stood atop a corner tower, waiting. There were still many living souls in the city, so she couldn’t unleash a large-scale attack just yet. She had to wait for the Demon Race to show themselves.

The Illusion Demon’s technique was on the verge of collapse. The gray, heavy mist that had filled the streets was thinning. Suddenly, Gongxi Yue spotted familiar figures darting down one of the alleys.

Wen Xunzhen was running with Qian in her arms, Xue Yingying trailing behind. A group of stiff, puppet-like figures chased after them.

They flickered through the demon-infested streets.

Gongxi Yue knew full well that Qian and her junior sister Yingying were supposed to be in the Twelfth City. There was no way they’d be here now—let alone with Wen Xunzhen.

But still, a sliver of doubt crept in. That child had run off more than once before.

What if she’d just left, and Qian had thrown a tantrum, making Xue Yingying chase after her? It wasn’t impossible.

She didn’t think for long. Gongxi Yue drew her sword and flew into the city.

Real or not, if the Demon Race had cast bait, she’d bite. She wanted to see who would end up caught—the fish or the fisherman.

Still standing atop the tower, Lang Qingyue saw her martial niece lead the charge into the city and cursed under her breath.

“Sword cultivators—always charging in headfirst without a damn plan!”

The Demon-Devouring Grass was thickest in the western part of the city. It was almost certain the Demon Race was hiding there.

Lang Qingyue waved her hands, and from the city grew intertwining spirit vines, sealing off the western sector from the rest of the city to prevent collateral damage once the fighting began.

Sword cultivators were notorious for their reckless, all-out battles—especially Gongxi Yue and her disciples. Lang Qingyue had plenty of scars to prove it.

Back in the day, when she traveled with a senior sword cultivator to slay demons and monsters, she’d spent more time cleaning up their messes and paying reparations than fighting.

Thank the heavens her Dao Companion was organized and good with money—otherwise, they’d have been detained for unpaid damages.

Sure enough, moments after Gongxi Yue landed in the city, a thunderous crash erupted from the west. Dust billowed into the sky, and rooftops flew into the air.

When it came to rats hiding underground, Gongxi Yue’s favorite tactic was a direct smash. Sword after sword rained down, piercing deep into the earth, flushing out every last coward in hiding.

“This lunatic! Doesn’t she care that her so-called ‘fellow disciples and loved ones’ are still in the city? Is she trying to take us all down with her?!”

Skin-Painting Demon cursed furiously. She’d thought Gongxi Yue had taken the bait—but judging by her reckless assault, she clearly wasn’t holding back for anyone.

“The people I’ve controlled in the city are blocked by Lang Qingyue’s spirit vines—they can’t get through. We need to move to another part of the city,” said Miasma Demon, looking like a frail scholar, tapping his fingers in frustration.

“Illusion Demon! Buy us some time—blind Gongxi Yue! We’ll scatter and head for the east and south sides of the city!” Skin-Painting Demon shouted. “There are still plenty of ordinary people over there—let’s see if she dares act so arrogantly then!”

The Illusion Demon, drained by the Demon-Devouring Grass, had shrunk into a tight corner. Now, with a sudden surge, it cast a thick veil to obscure Gongxi Yue’s senses.

But in that instant, a clear, piercing flute melody sliced through the night like a cold wind breaking snow, shattering the illusion that clouded Divine Sense and hearing.

A silver-haired woman sat atop a white tiger, playing a jade flute. The music not only tore through the Illusion Demon’s mists but also sharpened the aura of Gongxi Yue’s spirit sword, making it even more lethal.

The spiritual energy woven into the flute’s melody was like fine needles, threading through Gongxi Yue’s sword aura, helping her slice through the final layer of the Illusion Demon’s concealment.

“Found you.”

In midair, the spirit sword spun thirty-six times, glowing with silver light, like an arrow that had found its mark. It shot forward with Gongxi Yue, piercing straight into the black fog that shrouded the Illusion Demon.

“Boom! Boom! Boom!”

Lang Qingyue’s brow twitched at each explosion echoing from the west side of the city.

No matter. She was now a Mystical Sovereign—no one would make her pay for the damage, even if the whole city was razed.

Sensing demonic energy slipping through her spirit vine barrier and infiltrating other parts of the city, Lang Qingyue turned away from helping her martial niece and chased after the escaping aura.

The demonic energy had scattered into the crowded southern district—then suddenly vanished, crumbling like fine sand. When she probed with her Divine Sense, she found traces of demonic energy in nearly every house.

This was a demon capable of polluting others. Once it dispersed its energy into many people, its true body would carry no demonic aura—making it nearly impossible to track.

Lang Qingyue sneered. Difficult for others, perhaps. But for her, this was the perfect prey.

Several staggering figures emerged from the houses—some lunged at Lang Qingyue, while others ran westward through the city, frantically destroying the Spirit Vines.

Lang Qingyue formed a hand seal, and Demon-Devouring Grass burst from the ground, swiftly ensnaring the possessed people and draining the demonic energy from their bodies.

There were many who had fallen under control, but there was even more Demon-Devouring Grass.

Amid the group of bound victims, Lang Qingyue precisely picked out the Miasma Demon, who looked like a pale-faced scholar.

Just as Lang Qingyue seized the Miasma Demon, Gongxi Yue had already engaged the Skin-Painting Demon, while Mu Yiling, riding a white tiger and controlling the captured Illusion Demon with her Jade Flute, followed closely behind.

Realizing the situation had turned dire, the Skin-Painting Demon attempted to flee. But the city was still blanketed in Demon-Devouring Grass, which relentlessly siphoned away her demonic energy.

Gongxi Yue pressed hard from behind, giving her no chance to catch her breath, let alone replenish her power. The longer the fight dragged on, the weaker she became.

The street was littered with the mangled limbs of puppets. The Skin-Painting Demon had exhausted all her puppets, even the ones she had used earlier to lure Gongxi Yue—like “Xue Yingying” and the others.

At the end of the street, Gongxi Yue struck with a fierce blow, driving her sword through the Skin-Painting Demon and pinning her to a massive stone.

“Talk. Why did you leave the Demon Realm and suddenly show up here?” Gongxi Yue asked, gripping the hilt of her sword.

Lang Qingyue and Mu Yiling arrived shortly after, each dragging along the Illusion Demon and Miasma Demon.

“We just got bored of the Demon Realm, that’s all. Came here to find some fresh puppets,” the Skin-Painting Demon said, her pierced shoulder now encased in a thick layer of ice.

“Lonely Moon Sword Monarch, even if you kill me, I’ve got nothing to tell you. We’re just the bottom rung of the Demon Generals—what could we possibly know?” she said, her face full of pitiful resignation.

“Was it you who captured the disciples of Snowfall Palace?” Mu Yiling asked.

The Skin-Painting Demon immediately deflected, “I only snatched a few rogue cultivators. Besides, I prefer men. Why would I go after disciples from Snowfall Palace?”

“If she won’t talk, forget it. Let’s take them back and deal with it later,” Lang Qingyue said.

They had won this battle decisively. The dust from the clash hadn’t even settled when, in the distance, black and crimson demonic clouds began to churn violently.

A red figure stood atop a Fiery Ghost Chariot of the Demon Race, followed by four Demon Generals and dozens of Demon Race soldiers, thundering into Ninth City.

It was Tu Hongying, the Young Master of the Demon Realm. Her fiery red hair blazed wildly, and from her dark crimson gown, long legs adorned with golden rings stepped confidently onto the chariot’s yoke.

“Well, well, look who it is—Lonely Moon Sword Monarch Gongxi Yue! Since you’re here, why not stay a while? Come visit the Demon Realm with me!”

In an instant, the tide had turned.