“In my eyes, even when you’re killing, you’re adorable. Seeing you makes me happy. You’re not boring at all.”
“I don’t think I’d make a good Beast Queen either. I don’t know how to handle trivial matters.”
“The affairs of the Beast Realm don’t need your attention. I’ll take care of them. All you need to do, Dai Dai, is focus on your sword practice,” Su Xuan said.
Sang Dai buried herself in his neck, staying silent for a long while before speaking in a low voice, “Su Xuan, I’ve been so tired these past few years.”
Her voice was heavy, laden with exhaustion.
Su Xuan’s heart clenched. He held her gently and coaxed her, “I know. From now on, you can rely on me. I will never betray you.”
Sang Dai didn’t respond.
If it weren’t for Su Xuan being by her side, she might have ended up investigating everything alone and ultimately facing the combined forces of the Four Realms all by herself.
No one would stand beside her. No one would help her.
“Su Xuan,” Sang Dai sniffed, tightening her embrace. “Give me some more time. Our relationship is progressing too quickly. Once I’ve figured things out, I’ll be as steadfast as you are.”
She needed to grow more attached to Su Xuan, to sort out her feelings and make sure she could handle his overwhelming love. Only then would it be fair to him, and only then could they ensure a smooth future together.
“Alright,” Su Xuan replied, holding her waist a little tighter. “Alright, Dai Dai.”
He had waited over a hundred years. He could keep waiting for her.
“I’ll always be by your side, Dai Dai. Don’t be afraid.”
All Sang Dai could do was hold him tightly, burying her head in the crook of his neck and stifling her tears, her heart softening.
In a quiet voice, she said, “Su Xuan, I haven’t eaten my osmanthus cake yet. That was something your mother told you to buy for me. I need to eat it.”
Su Xuan nuzzled her cheek. “It’s probably cold by now. Let’s go out and eat something fresh, okay?”
Sang Dai replied, “Even if it’s cold, I can still eat it.”
Su Xuan shook his head. “Cold food doesn’t taste good.”
He stood up, gently placing her down. Sang Dai, draped in his outer robe, had skin that still bore the marks he had left on her.
The little fox took a deep breath, patting her on the head. “I’ll go… take care of something. Once I’m done, I’ll take you to eat osmanthus cake.”
His thin inner garment barely covered him, and Sang Dai quickly turned her head away, unable to look.
She nodded. “…Alright.”
From her past experience, the little fox wouldn’t resolve himself in less than an hour. After leaving the hall and heading to the washroom, Sang Dai sat for a while before finding enough strength to stand.
Wearing Su Xuan’s robe, she noticed it was far too big for her. The hem dragged on the ground, but she didn’t care. After all, the little fox never wore the same clothes two days in a row; they’d always be sent for cleaning.
Sang Dai walked over to the bronze mirror and removed Su Xuan’s robe. In the mirror, the sword cultivator was dressed only in her close-fitting inner garment.
Everywhere she looked bore the marks he had left behind. When Su Xuan was in his beast form, his canine teeth would appear, and during his heat, he couldn’t fully suppress his instincts. Tiny bite marks dotted her skin.
Sang Dai’s cheeks burned as she reluctantly turned to examine her back. A few ties held the garment together, but the rest…
She hastily picked up Su Xuan’s robe and wrapped herself tightly in it.
That little fox…
He’s really just a dog!
Sang Dai grabbed a fresh set of clothes and went to another washroom to bathe. She finished much faster than Su Xuan, casually tying her hair into a bun after her bath. Dressed in simple everyday clothes, she sat in the courtyard, waiting for him.
After waiting for a long time, Su Xuan finally emerged when the full moon had risen high in the sky.
His silver hair was half tied with a wooden hairpin, the ends still dripping with water, and he was dressed in a fresh black robe.
Sang Dai met his gaze for a moment before quickly looking away.
Su Xuan curved his lips into a gentle smile and walked over, bending down to plant a loud kiss on the sword cultivator’s cheek.
Sang Dai covered her face, her slightly parted lips quivering. “What are you doing?”
The little fox leaned in and captured her lips, sucking lightly. “Kissing you.”
Sang Dai quickly stood up, flustered. “It’s… it’s over now. You said you’d wait for me!”
Su Xuan took her hand. “You also agreed earlier that day-to-day closeness was fine.”
Sang Dai: “…”
She remembered now. Earlier, when things had gotten heated between them, and the wine had gone to her head, she had clung to the little fox’s shoulders and asked, “Su Xuan, teach me how to like you more quickly. I want to like the little fox more, to understand him better.”
Breathing heavily, the little fox had replied, “Don’t push me away. Let’s be closer. The way you feel about me now is already enough to support more everyday intimacy between us.”
And Sang Dai had said, “Alright, let’s be closer.”
She wanted to understand her feelings, to grow more fond of him, and to be sure she could treat him well—to be fairer to him.
Now, however, Sang Dai: “…………”
Sober and clear-headed, she wanted nothing more than to stab herself with her own sword. Covering her face with one hand, she whispered, “Can I take it back?”
Su Xuan pried her hand away, looked her in the eye, and smiled. “Nope.”
[Dreaming in the middle of the night? No way I’m letting you take it back.]
Sang Dai: “…”
The little fox held his sword cultivator’s hand and swaggered out of the Spirit Beast Hall.
There weren’t many people outside anymore; the streets were much quieter compared to when Su Xuan had returned. The deep night had thinned out the crowd.
Sang Dai noticed that many shops on both sides of the street were closed. She asked, “Are there still places selling osmanthus cake?”
“There are. Uncle Chen closes late.”
It seemed like he had a specific destination in mind, not just any pastry shop. Holding Sang Dai’s hand, he led her to a market on the southern side of the city. Around the corner, a small shop was still open.
When Su Xuan stopped in front of the shop, she saw that it was a modest place. The storefront was small, and the low doorframe forced the little fox to bow his head slightly.
He raised his voice. “Shopkeeper, some osmanthus cake, please.”
After calling out several times, someone inside finally heard him and came out.
Sang Dai realized the shopkeeper seemed to have poor hearing.
The elderly man had a slightly stooped back. When he saw Su Xuan, he smiled and said, “Your Lordship, is it osmanthus cake again?”
Su Xuan nodded. “Yes, one serving of osmanthus cake, please.”
The shopkeeper turned and went inside to pack the pastry.
Sang Dai tugged on Su Xuan’s sleeve. “Do you come here often?”
Su Xuan replied calmly, “Occasionally.”
In reality: [I’ve learned how to make these from Uncle Chen myself. I can do it on my own.]
Sang Dai: “…Alright.”
Su Xuan seemed to know how to do many things, and his life was undoubtedly far more interesting than hers.
The little fox accepted the osmanthus cake and handed over a spirit stone in payment.
The shopkeeper bowed slightly toward Sang Dai. “I wish the Madam good health as well.”
Sang Dai smiled awkwardly and returned the gesture. “Thank you, Uncle. May you remain in good health.”
Su Xuan grinned smugly, and after bidding farewell to the shopkeeper, he led the sword cultivator away.
Though there weren’t many people on the streets, Sang Dai noticed that quite a few pairs of eyes followed them. Su Xuan was simply too conspicuous; his silver hair was a distinctive feature.
Sang Dai tugged on his sleeve again. “Let’s go back to the Spirit Beast Hall. It’s getting late.”
The little fox, in his usual haughty tone, said, “No, I’m taking you somewhere.”
Sang Dai asked, puzzled, “Where?”
“You’ll find out when we get there.”
A quarter of an hour later, Sang Dai stood silently before the calm surface of a river.
She asked, “Why are we here by the river?”
Su Xuan picked up a small stone, tossing it lightly in his hand.
“Back then, after I escaped from the underground prison where I was held, I swam along this river to freedom. Afterward, I found Liu Lixue. He helped me hide and tended to my injuries. Once I recovered, I went back and wiped out the Twelve Palaces.”
He tossed the stone, which skipped across the water several times, creating ripples on the river’s surface.
“When I was a kid, I often came here with Liu Lixue to skip stones. We also fished here a lot. You could say this was sort of my secret base.”
He spoke of it in an almost casual tone.
Sang Dai was silent for a moment before asking, “Was it… very hard back then?”
He knew what she meant.
Su Xuan raised an eyebrow. “Hard? Not really. At that time, I was desperate—if I didn’t succeed, I’d die anyway. When you reach the edge of despair, you somehow find extraordinary courage. Looking back now, Liu Lixue and I were quite remarkable back then.”
Two teenage boys had taken down the Twelve Palaces.
“Young Master Liu is truly good to you.”
“He’s my best brother and the only person I trust completely in this world, aside from you.”
Sang Dai fell silent, understanding now why Su Xuan had entrusted the role of Xingque Palace Steward to Liu Lixue. Liu Lixue wasn’t particularly strong in combat; his most notable skill was his medical expertise. Yet Su Xuan had given him significant authority.
Because of trust. Because of gratitude.
Su Xuan led her to sit in a pavilion by the riverside, unwrapping the oil paper around the osmanthus cake.
He handed her a piece of osmanthus cake. “Dai Dai, try it. This shop has the most authentic flavor.”
[Years ago, I tried all the osmanthus cakes in the Beast Realm before deciding to learn from Uncle Chen. His cakes have the richest osmanthus fragrance.]
Sang Dai took the osmanthus cake he offered her and took a small bite. The soft, glutinous cake melted on her tongue, filling her mouth with the rich aroma of osmanthus.
“It’s delicious, really delicious.”
Su Xuan raised an eyebrow, smiling. “Then I’ll make it for you in the future.”
Sang Dai looked at him, holding the cake, and nodded. “Alright.”
The little fox bit into his own piece of cake and sat beside her in the pavilion, letting the evening breeze blow over them. In a deep voice, he said, “That river is actually the Beast Realm’s moat. The Beast Realm has 271 cities, thousands of counties, and millions of citizens. This river has an array within it that surrounds the entire Beast Realm, safeguarding its peace.”
Sang Dai looked toward the river and asked, “Is it very large?”
“Of course. It stretches for ten thousand miles, vast and wide. Back when I was being hunted, I jumped into this river. The array within the river even helped shield me.”
Su Xuan tossed another stone, making it skip across the water as he continued, “When I was younger, I didn’t want to be the Beast King at all. I found it so annoying—having to protect so many people, the burden was too heavy. I just wanted to be a carefree nobody.”
Sang Dai chuckled lightly, surprised to learn how lazy Su Xuan had been as a child.
“And then I realized I had to become stronger,” Su Xuan said quietly, “because only then could I protect the people around me.”
Sang Dai’s smile froze. She lifted her gaze to look at him.
“At first, I became the Beast King just to survive. But after ascending to the throne, when I saw those citizens who had lost their homes and families to war, I began to wonder—what has war really brought to the Beast Realm?”
Continuous warfare had drained the spiritual veins. He had been captured and imprisoned, his blood and flesh used to replenish the Beast Realm’s spiritual veins.
The economy had been devastated. Tens of thousands of families were ruined, rivers of blood were shed, and the citizens were forced to pay exorbitant spirit stone taxes to fund the war effort.
“So, the first thing I did after ascending the throne was to open the Demon Treasury. I redistributed the wealth the Twelve Palaces had hoarded over the years, encouraging the citizens to engage in trade. That’s where Liu Lixue was extremely useful. I didn’t know much about commerce, but the Peacock Clan was full of merchants. Liu Lixue came up with ideas, I deliberated and issued policies, and whenever they needed funding or skills, I found ways to provide them. Look at the Beast Realm now—its economy is the strongest among the Four Realms.”
Sang Dai took another bite of the osmanthus cake and praised him, “The Beast King and Young Master Liu are both amazing.”
“Then I realized that once the economy flourished, a new problem arose: the other three realms began eyeing the Beast Realm’s wealth. Even if we didn’t attack them, we couldn’t guarantee they wouldn’t target us. Those years, I fought battles while researching ways to strengthen the Beast Realm’s military. I searched for spiritual veins alone, established academies in the Beast Realm, restructured the disorganized military, concentrated forces at the borders, and studied defensive formations. Over time, the Beast Realm’s military became formidable.”
Sang Dai rested her chin in her hand, her eyes curving into a soft smile. “I know. That’s why the other three realms don’t dare wage war against the Beast Realm.”
Su Xuan had a great appreciation for talent. Any demon cultivator with potential received his careful cultivation.
Sang Dai praised him, “The little fox is an excellent Beast King.”
Su Xuan met her gaze and smiled. “Dai Dai, I’m not a good person, but I’m not a bad one either.”
Sang Dai replied, “You’ve always been good.”
The two sat close together. The evening breeze carried their mingling scents, lifting their hair and intertwining the strands.
Looking at Sang Dai, Su Xuan seemed to see the young girl who had once broken into the underground prison, carrying his injured body on her back, and telling him:
“You are a Heavenly Spiritual Root Awakener, a gift from the heavens to this world. No one has the right to treat you like this.”
Now, they had grown up, no longer placing their unwavering trust in the Heavenly Dao, and had even betrayed the faith they once revered.
But what hadn’t changed was that Su Xuan still thought Sang Dai was wonderful, and Sang Dai still believed the same about him.
Su Xuan looked at her delicate face and raised his hand to gently caress her cheek.
“Dai Dai, will you protect the Beast Realm with me? The citizens of the Beast Realm will respect and honor you. They will never betray you like those in the Immortal Realm did—I promise you that.”
“The citizens of the Beast Realm are your people too. The vast lands of the Beast Realm, spanning millions of acres, will be your home, our home.”
Sang Dai was smiling, her eyes curving into crescents as her laughter grew brighter. But gradually, a shimmer of tears began to appear in her eyes.
Resting her chin in her hand, she locked eyes with Su Xuan.
Without hesitation, Sang Dai nodded. “Alright.”
She would protect the Beast Realm with Su Xuan, even at the cost of her life.
Because this place was truly, truly wonderful.
Su Xuan cupped her face and asked her, “Did you notice the hairpin I wore today?”
“I saw it. It’s very pretty.”
Sang Dai knew exactly what he was referring to.
She set down her osmanthus cake, tilted her head slightly upward, and reached a hand to the back of Su Xuan’s head. Her fingers found the wooden hairpin in his bun.
She traced the familiar carvings on it—it was almost identical to the ones she used to wear often in the past.
She hadn’t paid attention to it before, but seeing this wooden hairpin tonight suddenly brought back memories.
She remembered a promise she had yet to fulfill for Su Xuan.
The little fox asked, “The honorable young lady who keeps her promises, do you remember the fight we had eighty years ago? You promised me something afterward.”
Sang Dai replied softly, “I’m sorry. After that, I went out to train, and we didn’t see each other for years. I forgot about it, but now I remember.”
“Then fulfill it for me now.”
“Alright.”
Sang Dai smiled and reached out to pinch the little fox’s ears, which had popped out. The fluffy ears felt incredibly soft to the touch.
“I’ll fulfill it for you today.”