Being confessed to by a little demon for the second time, he couldn’t help but laugh. Then he patiently explained:
“Immortals and demons walk different paths. Right now, your demonic nature hasn’t been purged. It’s forbidden to harbor feelings for me—such reckless emotion will only bring calamity.”
She was stunned for a moment. “So… you mean, I can only like you after I become an immortal?”
He nodded. “Cultivate with all your heart, and stop entertaining foolish thoughts.”
She just stood there, dazed.
This little demon’s fate was uncertain, but during her time at the Flower Dawn Palace she had been obedient and earnest in her cultivation, with no ominous signs so far. Could the strange omens really be pointing to a future heavenly tribulation? He considered it briefly, then stood and instructed:
“I need to go out for a while. You are not allowed to wander—just stay here and copy the new incantation I taught you twice. No slacking off.”
She grabbed his sleeve and called softly, “Lord Divine…”
He lowered his head. “What is it?”
Looking up at him, she said, “If I don’t like you, how could I ever become your Divine Consort?”
He reached out and patted her head. “Then don’t become one.”
Her face darkened. “If I’m not going to be your consort, what’s the point of becoming an immortal at all?”
Sensing something off, he dropped his smile and was about to speak when she suddenly brightened and asked,
“Lord Divine, do you… like me too?”
Her youthful spirit stirred something in him again, and he couldn’t help but laugh.
If he didn’t like her, why hadn’t he turned her away before? She mistook the smile for confirmation and beamed with joy:
“If you didn’t like me, what would be the point of me becoming your consort? But since I’m still a demon and love is forbidden between gods and demons, you shouldn’t like me yet. Wait until I’ve become immortal—then you can start liking me.”
She sat down in front of the table, grabbed his brush, and began scribbling out the incantations in messy handwriting.
“But you can’t like anyone else! You have to look at me every day. Don’t forget me.”
He shook his head, a strange feeling stirring in his chest. Casually, he asked,
“What if someone else becomes the Divine Consort?”
Without hesitation, she replied, “Then I’ll never speak to you again.”
He was momentarily stunned.
Perhaps sensing something, she became uneasy. She threw down the brush, clung to his arm, and pleaded:
“Can’t it be no one else? You promised me you wouldn’t like them. I’ll treat you well, I really will.”
Her promise was clumsy and childlike. He chuckled, “Don’t overthink. We’ll speak again once you’ve become immortal.” And with that, he stepped out the door.
Naturally, he didn’t take her words seriously. Youthful infatuation would fade with time and maturity.
But five years passed in the blink of an eye.
Outside Huachao City, on Mount Baizhou, dark clouds gathered overhead, pressing low over the land. Beside a stone ledge, several camellia trees bloomed, their blossoms vivid and dazzling.
A thousand-year-old demon was about to emerge. With it came the inevitable punishment from the heavens—a storm of thunder and wind, the Trial of Heavenly Wrath.
Trembling in his arms, she asked, “Will I survive this?”
He gently patted her head to reassure her.
“Didn’t I teach you those spells? Now that you’ve cast an illusionary body, just hide well. The thunder and wind won’t be able to find you.”
She had once witnessed with her own eyes a peony demon struck down by a thousand-year heavenly tribulation, reverting to her original form. That memory hadn’t dulled her fear in the slightest. Forcing herself to stay calm, she asked,
“What if I get struck back into my original form… or die under the lightning punishment?”
Seeing how pitifully afraid she was, he felt a twinge of pity and tried to reassure her:
“Our flower-and-wood kind may not reincarnate, but we too follow the principles of cyclical rebirth. There’s no need to be afraid.”
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