Chapter 76: The Demon Lord (21)

Qian stood barefoot in the creek, her dress tucked up, splashing in the water.

She was having so much fun that even Huai You Nong, lying inside the meditation room, could hear her laughter.

The Demon Lord, weakened by the effects of the medicine, had almost no ability to restrain or intimidate the child. With the inexplicably indulgent Wuxin by her side, Qian had been disappearing first thing in the morning these past few days, running wild outside.

Not only did she play around the West Mountain Temple, but she also went down to the medicinal fields at the foot of the mountain, watching the medicine monks cultivate herbs. In no time, she had tanned a shade darker.

Compared to Huai You Nong, who lay inside looking pale and cold, she seemed infinitely healthier.

Apart from Wuxin and his two junior disciples from the Spirit Realm’s Bodhi Mountain, the other monks in the temple were ordinary people who had come to cultivate over the decades. They had no spiritual power, so they couldn’t see Huai You Nong’s true nature.

Yet even if they couldn’t discern his identity, they could sense something unusual about him, instinctively keeping their distance.

The two children looked exactly alike, but their starkly different temperaments led to vastly different treatment at the temple.

Aside from Wuxin, no one dared to enter Huai You Nong’s meditation room.

Thus, when Qian returned at sunset after playing outside all day, she was the first to discover that Huai You Nong was burning up with fever.

She sobbed as she rushed to find Master Wuxin.

“Brother—wuuu—has a fever!”

“Don’t worry. This is part of his body’s natural recovery process,” Wuxin reassured her. “He must have accumulated many hidden injuries over time, and without proper rest and care, he also consumed something he shouldn’t have. Since it wasn’t fully absorbed, his body is now expelling everything. This is actually a good thing.”

Sniffling, Qian asked, “Then shouldn’t he take medicine?”

“He doesn’t need medicine right now.”

“But you’re supposed to take medicine when you’re sick!” Qian insisted.

She fumbled in her pocket and pulled out some herbs and small stones.

These were things the medicine monks had given her while she played in the medicinal fields.

The herbs had heat-clearing and detoxifying properties. Locals brewed them into tea or chewed them raw—though they were quite bitter. The small stone-like items were actually medicinal roots, known for their calming effects, but they were also incredibly bitter.

“I have medicine! He can take all of it!” Qian placed her entire stash into Wuxin’s hands.

Touched by her filial devotion, Wuxin nodded. “Alright, I’ll make him a medicinal decoction with these.”

After all, the worst that could happen was the Demon Lord drinking something excessively bitter.

Having secured medicine for her ailing father, the dutiful daughter finally felt at ease.

As Wuxin left to brew the medicine, Qian leaned over the bed.

Huai You Nong lay still, eyes closed. Qian quickly grew bored and fished around in her pocket again.

She found a round, smooth egg.

She had picked it up while playing in the medicinal fields—a hen from a nearby household had laid it by the fields, and a kind auntie had gifted it to her.

A personally found egg felt different from the ones in the kitchen.

She rolled it around on the bed for a while before an idea struck her: could her feverish dad-brother cook the egg just by holding it?

Qian first tried placing the egg on Huai You Nong’s forehead, but it wouldn’t stay put. Then she moved it to his hand, but his fingers weren’t gripping tight enough. In the end, she nestled it in the hollow of his neck.

Huai You Nong, still in recovery, vaguely sensed something.

When a child is awake while you’re sleeping, you never know what they might do.

Having experienced this before, Huai You Nong suddenly opened his eyes, wary.

At that moment, the egg rolled down his neck. As he turned his head, the egg—having been played with for too long—finally cracked, its yolk and whites spilling all over him.

The culprit had the audacity to wail, “My egg!”

Even in his weakened state, Huai You Nong felt an overwhelming urge to get up and discipline the child.

But if you don’t punish a child immediately, something will inevitably get in the way.

Just as he was about to act, Master Wuxin appeared, calmly holding a bowl of medicine. Seeing the mess, he simply picked up a cloth and began wiping the egg off Huai You Nong.

“You woke up just in time. Drink this while it’s hot.”

Huai You Nong’s fury was forcibly suppressed. He frowned at the bitter-smelling medicine but, trusting Wuxin, took the bowl and drank it all in one go.

“Thank you, Master, for the medicine. However, I will recover soon and won’t trouble you to prepare more.” He spoke politely.

Wuxin replied with his usual gentle patience, “It’s no trouble. I didn’t prepare it—Qian did, out of filial piety.”

Huai You Nong: “……”

In an instant, he understood why the medicine tasted like ordinary wild herbs, bitter and unrelenting, yet devoid of the sweetness of spiritual plants.

Once again, he had been “filially” cared for by his daughter.

The night was tranquil, the shadows of trees cast upon the meditation hall floor. Insects chirped, birds called softly.

The entire temple was peaceful in the stillness of the night, a quiet that soothed the mind.

His Demon Palace was always silent too—but it was a lifeless silence, devoid of even insects or birds. Everyone around him feared making a sound that might displease him, lest he kill them.

Huai You Nong glanced at the child sleeping beside him.

She had rolled off her pillow, her head now resting directly on the bedding. Her hair was a tangled mess, and she had twisted her body into an odd position, legs propped against the wall.

The old Demon Lord would have been displeased and would have adjusted her sleeping posture.

But the current Huai You Nong simply let it be.

He grabbed a handful of her messy hair, running his fingers over her head.

“This lord refuses to believe there is no way.”

A few days later, Huai You Nong bid farewell to Master Wuxin.

“You haven’t fully recovered yet. Are you leaving so soon?”

“The most dangerous phase has passed. I must thank you for your protection these past days. I will surely repay this kindness.”

His words carried weight, full of imposing dignity.

Unfortunately, his childlike form and round face greatly undermined his aura and authority.

Before parting, Huai You Nong asked Wuxin once again.

“Master, is it that you truly cannot save Qian, or that you are unwilling to save her?”

Huai You Nong knew well that Wuxin, the Buddhist monk, possessed unfathomable cultivation. If there was anyone in this world who could pose a great threat to him, it would undoubtedly be Wuxin. As for those in the cultivation world who called themselves Immortals, Huai You Nong had never truly taken them seriously.

If Wuxin claimed he was unable to save Qian, Huai You Nong would never believe it.

Over these past days, he had observed Wuxin’s interactions with Qian. There was clearly a fondness for her, yet for some reason, he refused to show her a path to survival.

Wuxin’s serene gaze drifted toward a child riding a wooden cart under a tree in the distance.

“To save her now would not truly be saving her. Dying before she grows up is her fate.”

Huai You Nong’s eyes turned sharp, his tone laced with icy mockery. “Fate? I don’t believe in fate.”

Wuxin smiled. “Not believing in fate is also your fate.”

Huai You Nong said no more and walked toward Qian under the tree.

He took Qian’s hand, but she clung stubbornly to her wooden cart. The two seemed to argue briefly before the child pouted and refused to let go. In the end, Huai You Nong compromised, holding onto both her and her little wooden cart as they made their way down the mountain.

Wuxin stood at the entrance of Xishan Temple, watching the two children walk away.

Qian kept turning back to wave at him—every few steps, another wave.

In Wuxin’s eyes, another child’s figure seemed to appear—smaller, shorter than Qian, pushing a little wooden cart and waving at him.

The child walked away from him, farther and farther.

He cultivated the path of reincarnation, of life and death, and of willpower. When he looked at that child, he had already foreseen her death.

At the same time, he had also seen her future rebirth.

Her vitality did not belong in this place, so she could not stay—must not stay.

Qian kept glancing back at Wuxin, standing atop the mountain. Huai You Nong snorted coldly. “You’re reluctant to part, but he isn’t even willing to save you.”

Qian suddenly sighed, planted her hands on her hips, and declared, “You don’t understand. No one can save me. This is all the blue villain’s conspiracy!”

“What blue villain?” Huai You Nong asked. Seeing her puff out her cheeks and swing her fists furiously at the air, he fell silent for a moment.

“What are you punching?”

“The villain!” Qian said resolutely.

Even if she couldn’t hit that flickering blue system, every time she saw it, she still wanted to fight it.

Huai You Nong scoffed, “Your enemy who cast the curse isn’t even here. Does punching the air make you feel better?”

“…Forget it,” he said.

It took Qian a few days to realize what he meant by “forget it.”

He meant he was taking her on a killing spree.

Her father-brother, who had yet to regain his adult form, took her back to the Demon Realm. But instead of returning to the Demon Palace, he merely sent out a message and then set off directly for the northwest.

The Demon Realm was vast, and much of the western and northern regions were now occupied by the remnants of defeated forces who had fled after Huai You Nong’s battle to claim the Demon Lord’s throne.

After retreating to the northwest, these forces had fractured and lain in hiding for years. On the surface, they still nominally answered to the Demon City, but in truth, many still clung to memories of their past glory and the might of pureblooded Heavenly Demons.

These demons hated Huai You Nong even more than the cultivation world did and wanted him dead.

The incident with the false Ling Yu Immortal and the betrayal involving the Heavenly Demon King were all orchestrated by certain figures in Northwest City.

In the past, Huai You Nong had been solely focused on breaking free from the restrictions of the Heavenly Demon Sacrificial Codex to further his cultivation. He had spared little thought for these defeated schemers.

He had underestimated them.

A centipede does not die even when cut in half.

It was his past leniency that had allowed them to provoke him again and again, ultimately causing disaster.

The northwest of the Demon Realm was barren and desolate, even more perilous and savage than other regions.

The largest city at the northwest border was Jiaobei City. Its city lord, Xin Kun, had once been rescued by Huai You Nong from the Demon Palace’s dungeons and personally elevated to his current position.

Placing him in Jiaobei City was, of course, meant to keep the northwest in check, but Xin Kun was now likely untrustworthy.

This was Huai You Nong’s first time at Jiaobei City’s Lord’s Manor.

In this impoverished land, someone had managed to construct a resplendent palace, even elevating it on high steps to mimic the grandeur of the Demon Palace in Demon City.

The ambition of this place’s master was evident.

Huai You Nong shed his disguise, revealing red hair and golden eyes. The moment Xin Kun received news of his arrival, he broke into a cold sweat, nearly fleeing in blind panic.

Ever since the northwestern demon generals had followed the Heavenly demon King to Demon City, only to be utterly crushed by the Demon Lord, Xin Kun had known he was finished. He had spent his days in terror, waiting for punishment from the Demon Palace—but he never expected the Demon Lord himself to come in person.

Upon seeing Huai You Nong in the form of a child, Xin Kun froze for a moment before immediately dropping to his knees, prostrating himself at Huai You Nong’s feet, wailing and sobbing with complete disregard for his dignity.

Huai You Nong listened as he tried to justify himself, describing years of hardship, his inability to control the northwest, and the threats he faced.

“But I have remained loyal to you, my lord! The Bloodthirst Demon Bug you implanted in me still remains—I wouldn’t dare betray you! I was simply powerless here, forced into submission…”

Huai You Nong gazed at him coldly.

So, the reason Xin Kun had betrayed him was that someone had found a way to neutralize the Bloodthirst Demon Bug in his body. If they could even cultivate Demon Gu from the ancient Heavenly Demon ruins, naturally, they could deal with the bug.

“I trust you, of course. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have come here,” Huai You Nong said casually, stepping past Xin Kun into the manor.

Xin Kun hesitated before cautiously glancing up at him. “My lord, shall I summon a physician for you?”

“Go ahead.”

Gritting his teeth, Xin Kun scrambled to his feet, hurriedly calling his trusted subordinates to relay instructions before quickly catching up to Huai You Nong and carefully ushering him inside.

Huai You Nong listened to the nervous gulping sounds behind him. He stopped, turned back, and asked, “Have you sent out the message?”

To those lingering remnants, and the forces backing them.

Xin Kun stiffened, forcing a strained smile. “Of course. I have already sent word, summoning all the physicians of the northwest. Surely…”

His pupils shrank violently, his entire body freezing.

A hand was lodged in his chest—an instant ago, it had been the small, fair hand of a child, but now it had transformed into the arm of a grown man.

His blood and life force poured from the wound, flowing into that outstretched hand.

“Tch.” The arm withdrew from his heart, and between the pale fingers and sharp black nails, it held his inner core.

The red-haired Demon Lord didn’t spare him a glance, raising a hand to toss the inner core aside.

“Let her eat it.”

With dying eyes, Xin Kun saw that the Right Protector, Liu Sha, had appeared at some point, holding her enchanted artifact Illusory Realm in one hand and cradling a child who bore a striking resemblance to the Demon Lord in the other.