Tiandu City was now the first demon city in the mortal world, occupying an entire fragrant isle. Its lord was a great demon with a smiling face and a heart of ice. Under him, the Tiandu Guards ran rampant, unyielding to soft or hard pressure alike, answering only to the city lord.
One month earlier.
Tiandu City, Feixing Pavilion.
Light crept across a dark-brown antique display shelf and the plum-blossom vase set upon it, slipping through the gap beside a black sabre on the rack. The blade flashed with a cold gleam. That fleeting glimmer fell into a pair of dark golden eyes.
He sat squarely at the desk, spreading out brush and paper. The chill hardness of his black armour clashed strangely with the soft whiteness of the xuan paper.
He held the brush. Ink burst from the tip like thunder racing across the page, and the characters he wrote sprang up wild as weeds. His brows knit. Calmly he straightened, setting the brush aside.
Black boots swept across the floor, scattering a layer of crumpled white paper balls.
Yin Feixue dried the sheet, then carefully folded it into the shape of a paper crane. He dotted in its eyes, turned it this way and that, and felt thoroughly satisfied with this. His hundred and eleventh letter.
What sort of expression would Xue Cuo make when he saw it?
Layers of gauze curtains hung heavy. The heroic king, holding the paper crane, seemed to smile faintly. Silver hair flowed over his shoulders like silk. A few streaks of ink had stained it, as though the silver had turned dark.
He released the paper crane into flight. As he turned, the ends of his hair brushed the plum branches in the vase. He paused and glanced back.
Fallen plum blossoms scattered across the white page. Red and pink specks, quietly unfurling their hidden thoughts.
Yin Feixue murmured, “While flowers may be plucked, one should pluck them straightaway. A fine omen.”
Tiandu City was vast and prosperous; inevitably all sorts of people gathered there.
Yin Feixue had long anticipated this. Taking advantage of the moment, he gathered capable minds and powerful demons to compile the first Demon City Code. Someone had suggested calling it the Human–Demon Code, but it lost by a single vote to Demon City.
The Demon City Code contained one hundred and eight laws, further divided into three thousand and eight articles. There were large and small provisions covering civil life, governance, cultivation, humans, demons, ghosts, and more. Even now it was constantly being revised and expanded.
Once the Demon Code was issued, Tiandu City’s power rose swiftly.
Like carts with rails, people with roads, and water with channels. Natural calamity could not wash it away, nor human disaster overturn it. Amid the world’s chaos, it was like a blade drawn from its sheath, unstoppable.
The Tiandu Guards carried out orders by decree and cultivated according to the law. Their regulations were strict, but their benefits generous, and people flocked to enlist. Even a few reclusive old demons, long hidden from the world, were drawn out.
All this Yin Feixue had foreseen. He had already decided where the next step lay.
He would break the old and establish the new, standing upon the Great Dao.
He would build a place where birth and bloodline mattered not; where the capable laboured more and also gained more. A place that welcomed demons from the four seas and every land, from east and south alike, and could also accommodate those who came from the mortal world.
This was the foundation upon which he built Tiandu City… and the most fundamental point that set it apart from the Demon Court.
Only the present life, this moment, this world would be cultivated. Past lives and former deeds would not matter. Besides helping govern the city, the old demons who came to join them also entertained the idea of becoming Supreme Elders.
Tiandu City’s response was simple: anyone who could defeat the city lord would be supported by the entire city.
The old demons’ eyes shone. They rubbed their hands eagerly and hurried to the Tiandu training grounds. One by one they entered. One by one they slunk back out again. One ill-tempered demon, maddened to the point of bloodshed, died on the spot—leaving only a corpse behind.
Golden eyes. Silver hair. Black sabre. White robes.
This image soon became the old demons’ lingering nightmare… and a favourite topic of gossip among the city’s subjects.
The Tiandu Guards worshipped their king. Each imitated him, wearing black armour and white clothing. The more fashionable among them even sought out clever spider spirits and green sparrow immortals to dye their hair silver.
This fashion of imitating one’s superiors soon caused a shortage of white cloth in Tiandu City. Humans and demons alike ended up dressed head to toe in white, as though the entire city were in mourning.
Before long rumours spread among mortals as well: Tiandu City favours white.
One day,
Yin Feixue passed by the moat with several subordinates. They chatted about governance, the Demon Court, natural disasters and the like. The gathered great demons discussed matters while Yin Feixue listened quietly without speaking.
Suddenly he glanced into the water.
Hiss—
Turning back, he discovered that at some point every demon around him had dressed entirely in white.
White birds. White chickens. White leopards. White Daoists. White physician immortals. White apothecary elders…
Yin Feixue: My eyes hurt.
He looked down at himself. Even he had been swallowed by this vast ocean of white, which did nothing to highlight his dashing elegance.
Yin Feixue examined his reflection left and right, gripping his sabre as he stood still, imagining what expression he should wear if Xue Yinbing were to arrive.
A smile was too faint. Laughter too frivolous. A half-smile seemed insincere.
Perhaps he should arch his brows a little and lift the corners of his mouth. His silver hair should probably be tied up as well—but would a black ribbon look too old-fashioned?
Humans disliked faces that appeared overly mature. His own features… were they acceptable? His three courts were well proportioned; his brows and eyes ought to be fine enough…
What did Xue Cuo think of him?
For the first time in his life, Yin Feixue found himself troubled by his looks.
He frowned. In the water, the reflection lowered its long lashes of silver-grey, like brushstrokes in a painting. The side profile was refined yet heroic: handsome without losing its martial edge. A fine face.
Yet there lingered a faint melancholy. That melancholy was irritating… almost a sigh, yet not quite.
Yin Feixue drifted into thought, staring blankly for a moment. Then he clasped his hands behind his back and turned around—
—and was startled half a step back by more than a dozen pairs of eyes staring straight at him.
“What is it?”
“No, no, nothing! Your Majesty has elegant tastes, that’s all.”
“Yes, yes! Your Majesty, look how clear the water in this moat is. Fine water indeed!”
That very afternoon, the sight of him standing by the moat, twisting this way and that, sighing and frowning, spread throughout Tiandu City.
Countless enthusiastic demons began speculating wildly. The most popular theory was that their king had lice.
Yin Feixue: …
Later, while Commander Niu* was still consulting him about sabre techniques, the great bull offered him a pill.
(*TN: Niu = cow/ bull.)
“Your Majesty, this is an old folk remedy passed down in our cattle clan. For treating… ahem… those things… it works wonders.”
Yin Feixue’s pupils trembled. He and the honest old bull stared at one another.
Commander Niu licked his nose ring and watched innocently as the city lord’s expression grew darker and darker. Until it turned both black and green. He looked as though he were suppressing a surge of rage, his head aching, and finally waved him away.
Commander Niu shuffled his hooves anxiously. “Your Majesty, when us demons get… ahem… that sort of thing, it’s nothing shameful. Best treat it early—moo—”
The great black bull was promptly hurled out by a gust of wind, leaving half a door panel rattling violently in his wake.
…
Xue Cuo lay on his arm, drifting atop a bank of clouds. He had been half asleep when he suddenly sneezed. He rubbed his nose, shook his head, and craned downwards. “Hiss… demon banners everywhere. Have they planted them all over Fangzhou already?”
He looked more closely. There was no plague in the city. Though natural disasters ravaged the mortal world, there were no scenes of corpses strewn across the land. Instead the place seemed peaceful, even faintly prosperous.
Xue Cuo had not seen the mortal world like this for a very long time. He could not help feeling delighted. Rising, he slipped down from the clouds and blended into the crowd of ordinary people.
Buildings stood shoulder to shoulder in the city. Humans and demons lived side by side. There were market streets and shopfronts, taverns and guest inns. The place was truly bustling.
The dazzling array of snacks left Xue Cuo’s eyes spinning. Suddenly—
“Ow!”
Someone pinched his cheek lightly.
He covered his face and caught a whiff of powder and perfume. Looking around, he saw only a sea of humans and demons and could not find the culprit.
Laughter rang out. “Handsome young man! Big sister will buy you a drink. Don’t take offence.”
“She’s a cheeky, sharp-tongued creature. Don’t be cross. Just scold her!”
Xue Cuo’s eyes widened as he was jostled from all sides. Someone stuffed a wine gourd into his hand. He stood there clutching it, utterly bewildered, which only drew another peal of silvery laughter. “So he’s just a little fool.”
Xue Cuo glanced about, still covering his face, then plunged headlong into the crowd and hurried towards a denser throng. Sure enough, the voice vanished behind him. He touched his head, then his face.
Suddenly he waved a hand in the air. With a quick stroke he drew a little drooping 八-shaped moustache and stuck it beneath his nose. He twitched his nose and the moustache quivered along with it. Grinning broadly, he finally looked a little less boyish.
Xue Cuo rubbed his nose again and followed the flow of people.
There were many small demons in Tiandu City. Spiritual energy in the mortal realm was thin, and the great demonic path had long since been severed, so most of them possessed only modest cultivation.
The feathered clans were skilled at tailoring. Green sparrows loved to sing. The ox clans were immensely strong. Even cats and birds could carry goods and letters in flight with the help of their offspring.
Humans and demons mingled freely, without distinction. Tiandu Guards in armour and with drawn weapons patrolled everywhere, giving the city a curious air of order within chaos.
Xue Cuo pondered this for a moment. Then he glanced at the wine gourd in his hand. He opened it and sniffed. A strong aroma of liquor rose up, mingled with the scent of night-blooming incense. Curious, he took a tentative sip. Then another.
“Catnip… night-incense… what a strange flavour.” He tucked the little gourd into his robe. Just then he noticed a particularly lively tall building nearby and wandered over.
Crowds packed the area, a dark mass of people. In the centre stood a tall fighting platform. Humans and demons alike mounted the stage one after another, trading punches and flourishing staffs with great swagger.
Xue Cuo found it rather entertaining. Someone slipped him a handful of melon seeds, peanuts, and malt sweets. Not being picky, he happily munched away.
Before long, it was his turn.
He was completely baffled and had no idea what was going on, but the people behind him were glaring and urging him forward. Scratching his head, he stepped onto the platform. The moment he did, the crowd erupted into cheers.
Xue Cuo blinked in confusion. His little moustache trembled slightly. Looking up, he saw gauzy red curtains above. Within them moved shadowy silhouettes.
Suddenly a snow-white hand lifted the veil. Half a temple and a peach-pink cheek were revealed. She tilted her head. The phoenix hairpin in her hair tilted with it as her gaze met Xue Cuo’s.
She paused. Then burst out laughing.
The youth on the platform wore a crooked fake moustache. His robe was the colour of rippling blue water, making him look as fresh and bright as a painting. His brows were like ink brushstrokes, his eyes clear as autumn lakes. He touched his nose and smiled lightly.
Like spring blossoms first opening, like autumn waters stirred by wind. One glance was enough to captivate the heart and linger long in memory.
Xue Cuo gave an embarrassed smile. Improper sights should not be looked upon. He was just about to jump off the stage when a startled cry rang out. He looked up.
A great red embroidered ball came hurtling down from the balcony, aimed straight at his head. Xue Cuo reacted instantly, dodging aside.
Just as he was thinking that was close, he saw the embroidered ball bobbing in mid-air—
—and flying straight back towards him.
“Fairy Miaoyin has finally chosen today!”
“Boy, what fortune you have! Catch the ball!”
Xue Cuo’s scalp prickled. He had even forgotten to use talismans, and he could hardly cast spells openly inside the city. For a moment he could neither escape nor evade. The embroidered ball, indifferent to his feelings, chased him relentlessly across the stage.
Suddenly a hand caught the ball. With an easy motion, it tossed it back toward the pavilion. “Miaoyin. Put away your magic treasure.”
A stir came from the pavilion. The red veil lifted again, revealing a beauty with a phoenix hairpin, looking thoroughly displeased. “Who touched my ball—? Oh… Yin… City Lord.”
Silver hair. Golden eyes. Black armour. White robes.
The young man stood tall upon the stage, hands clasped behind his back. With one arm he hooked the blue-robed youth and drew him behind him.
Xue Cuo had been just about to flee using the Supreme Freedom Technique, when a shadow fell over him and a familiar voice sounded. “…Your Majesty?”
Yin Feixue’s gaze darkened. His nose moved faintly as he caught the lingering scent of women’s perfume on Xue Cuo. Gold flickered in his eyes, but he said nothing, simply keeping him behind him.
The beauty above stamped her foot. “He stepped onto my stage! That means he must take my embroidered ball!”
Xue Cuo poked half his head out from behind Yin Feixue, trying to explain. Yin Feixue immediately pushed him back again. Hands clasped behind his back, he smiled… though the smile did not reach his eyes. “Which law says so?”
“You—!” The beauty snorted furiously, clutched her embroidered ball, and stormed back into the pavilion, her pearl hairpins clattering loudly.
The crowd below sighed in disappointment. But when they looked up again… the platform was already empty.
When had the king appeared? And when had he disappeared?
And who was that young fellow?
