GD Ch. 40

Chapter 40: Choosing A New Master?

Hanzhu lowered her head, thinking to herself that both sides were beyond her ability to provoke—wasn’t it better not to look at all? Hastily, she said, “Mistress, should I invite the Three Lords in? They have been waiting for three days, staying close ever since coming from the Heart-Questioning Rock. Could it be that… something went wrong with that person?”

Zhuyou understood immediately—of course something had gone wrong, or else why would the Three Lords wait here for three days? Yet, she remained unhurried, speaking slowly: “Do you remember what I did the last time I went to the Heart-Questioning Rock?”

Hanzhu shook her head. She hadn’t followed inside that time and answered blankly, “That time, Second Lord requested your help in repairing the cracks on the Crystal of Law. It seemed you expended a great deal of spiritual power.”

Zhuyou nodded. “Indeed. To repair those cracks, I used quite a bit of spiritual power—and I made the Crystal of Law… indestructible. The wisp of soul within cannot escape, nor can anyone else place anything inside.”

Hanzhu’s pupils shrank as she suppressed the panic rising in her heart. Lowering her voice, she asked, “Mistress, could it be… that you do not want the Devil Lord to wake up?”

Having followed Zhuyou for so long, how could she not understand her mistress’ intentions? Since the divine offspring entered the devil path, she had never openly fought for power, but her very presence instilled fear in the other devils, and she never missed an opportunity to assert her dominance.

Hanzhu could only vaguely guess at what Zhuyou wanted—probably something greater than the position of the Three Lords—but beyond that, she dared not speculate. Surely, it couldn’t be the Devil Lord’s position… right?

Before his fall, the Devil Lord was not someone to trifle with.

The title of Devil Lord wasn’t something one could simply claim. It was said that after the ancient gods created the heavens and earth, there was a war between the gods and devils. After that battle, the Three Realms were clearly divided, but the ancient gods fell one after another, and the devils sought to expand their territory—only to be repeatedly driven back.

Later, a devil was born who led the Devil Clan’s army to slay gods and Buddhas alike, eventually seizing Shangxi City. It was then that he was recognized as the “Devil Lord.” However, after killing many devil leaders, the Devil Lord himself perished, leaving Shangxi City as a place of constant turmoil.

The position of Devil Lord was not an easy seat to occupy. To become Devil Lord meant being in constant conflict with the Heavenly Realm—there would be no such thing as peace, only the looming threat of death.

Hanzhu certainly didn’t want her mistress to push herself toward destruction. She already felt distressed seeing Zhuyou’s spiritual power drained and wished she could bear the suffering in her place. The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became, fearing her mistress truly sought the Devil Lord’s position.

“Not let him wake up?” Zhuyou scoffed softly, curling a finger to beckon Hanzhu closer as she leaned against the soft couch.

Hanzhu immediately stepped forward, falling to her knees on the embroidered red carpet, tilting her head to listen carefully, afraid to miss a single word.

Standing beside the couch, Changying was clearly displeased. She furrowed her brows and leaned closer too, her cold gaze fixed on Hanzhu like a dragon guarding its treasure.

Hanzhu shivered under the piercing gaze but held her ground. After all, it wasn’t her fault—Mistress had called her over. Straightening her back, she maintained a humble posture and knelt with perfect form.

Zhuyou cast a glance at Changying. “What are you doing coming over here?”

Changying’s delicate face had matured somewhat. Her features were exquisite, and the slight upward tilt of her eyes should have made her look alluring, but her complexion was pale as snow, giving her an air of cold indifference.

“I want to listen too.” Despite her pitiful appearance, her tone held no trace of softness.

Zhuyou was about to tease her—Then beg me. But seeing the eager look in the little dragon’s eyes, she relented. If she were still a child, she might have even flicked her tail in impatience. With a sigh of resignation, Zhuyou flicked Changying’s forehead and turned back to Hanzhu. “I don’t want him dead—I want him alive. Even if it costs me half my life, I must keep him alive.”

“Wh-why?” Hanzhu was stunned.

“Have you ever witnessed the Devil Lord in his prime?” Zhuyou asked slowly, her words laced with hidden meaning.

Hanzhu shook her head. When the Devil Lord fell, she hadn’t even been born—how could she have seen it?

Zhuyou leaned back further, reclining against the couch. Her half-lidded eyes glinted with a hint of desire. “Some things… you can only take once you’ve seen them.”

Hanzhu nodded blankly. But—what exactly did she intend to take?

“When the Devil Lord wakes, I will personally retrieve what I want. At that time…” Zhuyou’s eyes curved into an innocent smile.

“At that time… what?” Hanzhu’s heart pounded violently, and she couldn’t resist asking.

“At that time, there will be no one left who can oppose me,” Zhuyou said.

Hanzhu’s pupils constricted sharply. Her heart thudded against her chest, leaving her feeling almost numb. It took her a long moment to process her mistress’ words, finally closing her slightly parted lips.

For an instant, even her soul seemed to tremble.

Licking her dry lips, she hurriedly asked, “And… what about the Three Lords?”

“Let them in,” Zhuyou said coolly, her playful demeanor vanishing.

Hanzhu stood up quickly but flinched under another cold glare from the dragon. She couldn’t understand why she was so afraid of Changying—this dragon didn’t even have a shred of spiritual power!

Meanwhile, Changying, having failed to understand the mistress-servant conversation, felt increasingly left out. Her gaze grew colder, as though she were being deliberately excluded.

Zhuyou, noticing the little dragon’s sulky expression, felt a rare pang of guilt. “Why are you upset again?”

Come to think of it, she had never seen this dragon look genuinely happy.

“You tell her so much, but not me—and she’s so close,” Changying grumbled softly.

Zhuyou suddenly understood. “Are you feeling neglected?”

Changying remained silent.

“Next time Hanzhu kneels, you can kneel beside her, and I’ll be able to treat you both equally,” Zhuyou teased.

As Hanzhu went to open the door, she nearly tripped in shock. Kneel with the dragon? That would be the death of her. She shivered, silently praying that the heavens would punish her for whatever wrong she had done—anything but being subjected to the dragon’s constant icy glares.

When the doors opened, the Three Lords raised their heads simultaneously.

Jing Kexin smiled charmingly and said in a soft voice, “Your Grace, you’ve slept for three days. Isn’t it time to wake up?”

Indeed, for the past three days, no matter how much they asked, Hanzhu would only say that her mistress was resting—and she never wavered.

The other two lords were less talkative, one colder than the other. In particular, Xuanjing, though less arrogant than before, still regarded everyone with haughty indifference.

Hanzhu stepped aside and said respectfully, “Mistress invites the Three Lords to enter the hall.”

Jing Kexin arched a brow and strode inside without hesitation. Her gaze was bold and unrestrained—until she spotted the figure standing behind Zhuyou. For a moment, she was dumbfounded. Hadn’t that girl been smaller the last time they met? How had she grown so much? Was she even human?

As the Three Lords entered, Hanzhu quietly closed the door and retreated to stand beside a large flower pot holding Hongqu’s true form, finding herself some company.

***

On the soft couch, Zhuyou lifted her eyes and cast a sidelong glance at the Three Lords, feigning ignorance as she asked, “Why have the Three Lords come here?”

She recalled the gaze Xuanjing had given Changying last time, which prompted her to take a closer look at him. What she saw surprised her—who would have thought that sword was still fixated on her dragon?

Over the years, Xuanjing’s temperament had mellowed considerably, and it was rare for him to reveal such a combative gaze. Yet now, his eyes were locked onto Changying, burning with intensity, shining with a near-manic brightness.

Although Zhuyou was not a sword-user, she had encountered many sword spirits. Like people, each sword spirit had its own personality. Blades that had fallen into the devil’s domain typically thirsted for blood and admired strength, willingly offering themselves to the powerful. Xuanjing was no exception, it seemed.

And yet, she found it strange—what could he possibly see in Changying, a little dragon who had barely hatched and still lacked spiritual energy? Was Xuanjing blind, or what?

For years, Xuanjing had refused to choose a new master precisely because he hadn’t found anyone worthy. So why was he now eyeing her dragon?

Zhuyou found this unacceptable. That sword was wild and unpredictable—anyone wielding it would be affected by its spirit. She had no desire for Changying to turn into a crazed lunatic.

Changying, however, appeared oblivious to Xuanjing’s stare. She didn’t spare him so much as a glance, her expression cold and indifferent.

“Your Grace has done a remarkable job repairing the Devil Lord’s Crystal of Law—I can’t even probe it with my spiritual energy,” Jing Kexin cooed, her voice soft and seductive as she fixed an unyielding gaze on Zhuyou.

Zhuyou couldn’t stand hearing her speak in that affected tone—every time she did, Zhuyou felt an urge to hang her upside down. “If it were that easy to pry open, why would I have bothered to repair it?”

“Your Grace is truly impressive. If not for the Phoenix Clan’s spiritual energy on the Crystal of Law, I might’ve believed those little devils’ nonsense,” Jing Kexin said with a playful smile.

“What nonsense?” Zhuyou raised an eyebrow.

“They’re saying that you laid an egg, suffered a severe decline in cultivation, and even lost spiritual energy,” Jing Kexin said bluntly, without the slightest reservation.

Zhuyou snorted—these devils certainly had guts. Still, the rumors worked to her advantage—it saved her from having to explain where the egg had come from.

“But where is your egg, Your Grace?” Jing Kexin asked, glancing around.

The question was so straightforward it was almost rude—like asking a woman who had just given birth, “Where’s your baby?”—and with an expression that suggested she wanted to snatch it away.

Zhuyou rolled her eyes, sizing Jing Kexin up with a cold stare. “Why do you want my egg? What, are you a ghost with the same thieving habits as a beast?”

At the word “ghost,” Jing Kexin’s expression twitched slightly, but she quickly forced a smile. “I wouldn’t dare. I’m simply curious, that’s all.”

Indeed, she was a ghost. In life, her new husband had sold her to a brothel. Later, during wartime, she was captured and tortured to death—an undignified end. Betrayed in life and vengeful in death, she became a devil by cultivating the ghost’s path, feeding on the essence of men.

Zhuyou had heard the story through the grapevine. “If you’re so curious, ask that lotus demon—she’ll tell you how pitifully shattered the egg was. It’s long gone.”

Jing Kexin shot a glance at Luo Qing, only to find his expression unchanged, as if he had already known.

Broken—completely broken?

Of course, Luo Qing knew. He had heard Hongqu mention that the egg had cracked, leaving a gaping hole behind.

Jing Kexin sighed with feigned regret. “If Your Grace wants another egg… why not come to me? After all… laying eggs isn’t so hard.”

Changying, resting her hand on the back of the couch, clenched her fingers until her knuckles turned white. Though her body had warmed, a sudden chill radiated from her again.

Zhuyou, feeling the cold, shivered slightly. Worried that her dragon might start making a scene, she grabbed Changying’s claw and pressed it gently, twice. “If you have this much energy, why not focus on helping me merge the other hun soul into the Crystal of Law?”

Jing Kexin’s expression changed as if she wanted to argue, but she held her tongue.

Changying had been furious. From the moment Jing Kexin started staring at Zhuyou, a fire had flared in her chest, burning hot and wild. When she heard the words “laying eggs,” her anger grew even more intense.

And yet, such emotions were foreign to her—she should not have known rage. The confusion in her heart unsettled her. Where was this unfamiliar feeling coming from?

Her face remained cold and unreadable, but Zhuyou sensed the shift immediately, and gently squeezed her fingertip again.

The burning heat within her subsided at once. Just two light squeezes, and she felt soothed.

Zhuyou, noticing how easily Changying calmed down, mused to herself—luckily, this dragon was easy to pacify and still obedient.

Xuanjing stood to the side, visibly on edge, like a sword ready to swear allegiance through blood. Meanwhile, Luo Qing, observing both sides, finally spoke up. “It’s one thing for Your Grace to repair the Crystal of Law—but why set a barrier?”

The “barrier” naturally referred to the condition that only Zhuyou could integrate the other two hun souls into the Crystal of Law. No one else could manage it.

When Luo Qing had first come to her for help, he hadn’t anticipated this outcome. Now, he could only question her with a cold expression.

Zhuyou, unfazed by his demeanor, leaned back leisurely. “If I didn’t, why would you come asking me?”

“Then I must ask Your Grace to withdraw the Phoenix Clan’s spiritual energy,” Luo Qing said.

Zhuyou laughed softly. “It seems you don’t care much about the Devil Lord. Do you not realize that my spiritual energy is the only one in the devil’s domain capable of sealing the cracks in the Crystal of Law? If I withdraw it, are you ready to let the Crystal shatter?”

Luo Qing’s face darkened. “There’s no need for Your Grace to go this far.”

“Perhaps not—but I want to,” Zhuyou said lazily.

“Aren’t you afraid of the Devil Lord?” Luo Qing pressed, his tone icy.

Still holding Changying’s hand, Zhuyou glanced down. The dragon’s fingers were slender and long—surprisingly elegant. Though Changying’s height only reached her shoulder, their palms nearly matched.

This dragon had definitely changed.

“Why should I be afraid?” Zhuyou murmured. “I’m saving him—not harming him.”

Changying obediently let her play with her hand. When she lowered her head, she caught a glimpse of Zhuyou’s silver-white hair, gleaming brightly, with a section of pale, delicate neck exposed between the strands.

Luo Qing was momentarily speechless. After a pause, he said, “Then, may I trouble you to merge the soul within the mustard seed into the Crystal of Law, Your Grace?”

“Hand it over.” Zhuyou released Changying’s hand and extended her palm.

Understanding her meaning, Luo Qing immediately tossed the mustard seed over. It floated lightly through the air as if carried by a breeze, gently landing in Zhuyou’s palm.

Zhuyou closed her fingers around it, stood up, and said, “To the Heart-Questioning Rock.”

Changying followed closely behind, completely ignoring the First Lord Xuanjing, who was still staring at her.

Zhuyou paused mid-step and let out a soft snort. “What’s with that look, Lord Xuanjing? Haven’t seen a person before? Even an old sword like you wants to find a master?”

Xuanjing seemed to snap out of a trance, his face darkening instantly.

“Then do sharpen yourself up a bit, First Lord,” Zhuyou added, “or else my little one here won’t take a fancy to an old blade like you.”