Xue Ji’s mind was in turmoil. The cultivator from the Hero’s Party looked exactly like this man.
Memories flashed before her eyes—when she, as the Sage, had joined the Hero’s Party. Together with the Hero, the Priestess, and the Ranger, they had ventured into the desolate [Forbidden Land of Magic] in search of the Hero’s Sword.
Instead of the sword, they encountered a long-haired man dressed in ancient robes. Upon learning of their quest to slay the Demon King, he showed no surprise.
With a flick of his wrist, a spiritual sword materialized in his grasp, slashing toward the Hero.
The Hero drew his blade to block, repelling the man—but his sword shattered under the force of the strike. The party tensed, the Elven Ranger and Priestess already preparing for ranged support.
The robed man sheathed his sword and tossed it to the Hero. But when his gaze landed on Xue Ji, his expression twisted in confusion.
Cultivator: “Friends, our meeting is fate. Let us journey together.”
Xue Ji: “Why is there a cultivator in this sword-and-magic fantasy world?! Big Bro, where the hell did you come from?!”
Cultivator: “Lu Ziye of the Asking Dao Sect, Ningzhou. I crossed over from the eastern [Spirit Sea].”
Then, without warning, Lu Ziye leaned in, scrutinizing Xue Ji’s face as if searching for something.
“How fascinating. To think such a thing is possible… Just what did Immortal Xueqing (Xue Ji’s name in her past life) plan?” he muttered, as if seeing something extraordinary in her.
“What plan?”
“It seems you’ve forgotten. No matter. Since fate has brought us together, I shall accompany you to the Demon King’s castle.”
The Hero, hearing their conversation in an unfamiliar language, asked, “Do you know him?”
Xue Ji studied Lu Ziye—this stranger who seemed utterly out of place—and sighed.
“He’s a transmigrator like me. No ill intent.”
Feeling the extraordinary power of the spiritual sword in his hand, the Hero agreed to let Lu Ziye join them.
Xue Ji couldn’t shake the feeling that Lu Ziye’s arrival was too convenient—as if he had been waiting for them. Yet no matter how she probed, he deflected with the same infuriating line: “Heaven’s secrets cannot be divulged.”
It was as though an unseen hand was manipulating everything, and she herself had become a pawn in someone else’s game. This so-called “otherworldly adventure” felt like an illusory dream.
“I’m still not strong enough. Only now do I realize the existence of the [Puppeteer].” She needed to piece together this story—fast.
…..
The scene shifted abruptly to the next morning.
In bed, the silver-haired girl’s delicate face was nearly pressed against Ling Xiaoxiao’s. Apparently, Ling Xiaoxiao had sneaked into her room during the night.
“Shizun, if only you could always be like this…” Ling Xiaoxiao murmured, her hand gently tracing Xue Ji’s cheek, her joy unmistakable.
Hearing this, the girl opened her eyes, placed her own hand over Ling Xiaoxiao’s, and smiled faintly. “Silly girl, I’ve always been me. But you—aren’t you a little old to be sneaking into my bed?”
“S-Sister! When… when did you wake up?!” Ling Xiaoxiao’s face flushed crimson, yet she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.
“Truthfully, I didn’t sleep at all last night.” Her expression darkened slightly as she studied Ling Xiaoxiao.
“Then… you know about last night…” Panic flickered in Ling Xiaoxiao’s eyes.
“Not just that. I’ve known about the hidden trinkets in our home, and the drugs you’ve been slipping into my meals.” The girl’s voice remained calm, her lips curling into a faint, knowing smile.
“Then why didn’t you stop me?!” For the first time, Ling Xiaoxiao felt the situation spiraling out of control—and it terrified her.
The silver-haired girl shifted closer, pulling the stiffened Ling Xiaoxiao into an embrace, nuzzling against her with unsettling tenderness.
“Watching you test my boundaries—desperate to possess me, yet struggling to hold back—gave me an irresistible thrill.” Her eyes darkened with desire as she inhaled Ling Xiaoxiao’s scent, intoxicated.
“A Demon God Seed is one who retains rationality even after facing a Great Demon.” Her fingers trailed along Ling Xiaoxiao’s trembling frame.
“But the price? The extreme amplification of emotions. With just a little guidance, I made you obsess over me—until you could never leave my side.” Her innocent smile was chilling, yet irresistibly alluring. “Your body, your heart, your everything… belongs to me now.”
Lilith, witnessing this, gasped: “There’s a higher mastermind?! Demon God Seeds are terrifying!”
Meanwhile, Xue Ji’s mind was a stampede of mental alpacas. “She raised a full-blown yandere, got herself killed, and left me to deal with the fallout?!”
Now, Xue Ji could feel Ling Xiaoxiao’s emotions—excitement and fear. The excitement made sense, but the fear?
Ling Xiaoxiao knew her actions were shameful. She knew she was hurting her Shizun. That’s why she restrained herself—her spying never crossed certain lines, and the drugs were mere sedatives, harmless to a cultivator.
But Shizun’s confession shattered that restraint. If she went further, would Shizun indulge her—even encourage her? The thought thrilled her… and terrified her.
Yet that day, Ling Xiaoxiao gave in to desire. For Lilith’s sake, Xue Ji skipped over the details.
…..
From the moment of that confession, their relationship was past the point of no return.
All their past bonds shattered in that instant, only to be reforged into something new—something that bound them as Dao companions.
In Ling Xiaoxiao’s memories, the brightest fragment was their wedding day.
Dawn’s first light painted the sky in radiant hues, soft as brocade. They retraced their journey, visiting human towns now unrecognizable, and the demon territories where the interrupted Demon King’s Trial had finally resumed—this time, overseen by the ancient Demon Ancestor himself.
The silver-haired girl brought Ling Xiaoxiao to meet her master at the Asking Dao Sect. The immortal elder, ever dignified, never expected his beloved disciple’s return to be an invitation to her wedding.
He huffed and scolded, even berating Ling Xiaoxiao to her face. Yet in the end, he attended—along with many others who had crossed paths with Xue Ji, all offering blessings.
The silver-haired beauty stood resplendent in crimson immortal robes, her snow-white hair flowing like a celestial maiden descended to earth. A faint smile graced her lips as she gazed at Ling Xiaoxiao with boundless affection.
Their eyes met, and for that moment, the world stood still, the air thick with devotion.
Amidst the strains of immortal music, they bowed in union, vowing to stand together for eternity.
The guests raised their cups, toasting with nectar-sweet wine. Laughter and well-wishes filled the air.
When the festivities ended and the guests departed, the elder left them with a final warning:
“As your elder, I’ll say no more. But the path you’ve chosen… your fate will be fraught with peril. Tread carefully.”
On their wedding night, after their union, the silver-haired girl whispered something ominous:
“Xiaoxiao… you should have run. Staying with me will only bring endless suffering. I have—”
But post-bliss clarity returned, and Ling Xiaoxiao cut her off.
“I don’t care. Do what you must later. For now… kiss me.”
Both burdened by foreboding, they lost themselves in desire—a fleeting dream before the moth flies into the flame.