GD Ch. 45 Part 2

Chapter 45: Why Won’t He Turn Around?

Meanwhile, the human world remained blanketed in heavy snow. A vast stretch of white covered the land, and the snow-capped peaks blended seamlessly with the pale, misty sky. The round sun was obscured by clouds, visible only as a faint halo of light.

The moment they emerged from the devil mist’s secluded realm, they found themselves outside Songling City in the Mortal Realm. Here, the snowfall would continue until the following year, and even in spring, when the snow stopped, the boundless ice might not fully melt.

Changying recognized this place. As she surveyed the familiar surroundings, she turned her head and, sure enough, caught sight of the grand, palace-like Huacheng Sect.

Disciples from other sects were exiting Huacheng Sect’s mountain gate. It seemed that no one from this small sect had managed to enter Shenhua Mountain, so they had no choice but to leave first.

Among them was a female disciple from the same sect as the Devil Lord’s reincarnated hun soul. She followed the group out but kept glancing back anxiously, her brows furrowed with worry. “Our shidi hasn’t come out yet. Why don’t we wait a little longer?”

A male cultivator, who had always looked down on the foolish shidi, scoffed coldly. “Do you really think he has the ability to enter Shenhua Mountain? Even if he made it in, would he have the luck to come out alive?”

The female disciple gritted her teeth, halting abruptly, refusing to take another step forward. “You never thought much of him from the beginning. Now that he’s been down there for so long, he must have entered the mountain! And yet you’re saying we should just leave? Do you truly have no sense of camaraderie at all?”

Several other disciples also hesitated, their faces filled with concern as they turned back to look at the frozen bridge behind them.

The male cultivator sneered, his expression full of disdain. “Shimei, let’s be honest—if our shizun were here, he’d shake his head, too. Think about it, what level of cultivation does that fool even have? Shenhua Mountain is teeming with demon beasts. Any random one could eat him alive. What do you think he’s doing down there? He’s just asking for trouble.”

“But the heavens have granted this rare opportunity, and the lake hasn’t frozen over yet! Those inside still have a chance to come out. What’s the harm in waiting one more day?” The female disciple’s eyes reddened, and tears spilled like beads from a broken string. “If our shidi manages to return, how heartbroken would he be to find us gone?”

The male cultivator smirked. “If you trust him so much, then stay and wait. I’m heading back to the sect. Our shizun already said we shouldn’t linger outside for too long. If you want to stay, suit yourself.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the other disciples, who had been wavering, exchanged uneasy glances before finally stepping forward.

Once they took that step, it meant they had chosen not to stay behind.

The female disciple clenched her teeth, her eyes burning red as her tear-streaked face hardened with resolve. She wiped her face and turned away.

The male cultivator chuckled coldly before walking off without looking back.

From afar, Zhuyou stood watching. Her cascading silver hair gleamed, and the black devilish markings on her white robes twisted like vines. She turned to Changying, who now stood shoulder-high to her.

She had initially intended to have Changying take on her dragon form. But at the thought of the colossal dragon in Shenhua Mountain, the one that had crashed down with such force that it left deep trenches in the ground, she couldn’t help but take a sharp breath.

A dragon of that size would cause a grand spectacle when falling from the sky, shaking the earth and shattering mountains. The deafening crash still rang in her ears…

Forget it. If her dragon form was going to be like that, it was better not to transform at all. There was no way such a massive creature could still coil around her wrist.

Zhuyou sighed with some regret but held onto a sliver of hope. She asked, “Can you shrink your original form any smaller?”

Changying stood weakly beside her, looking pale and sickly. She nodded.

Suddenly, Zhuyou felt her hand being grasped. The dragon claw clamped tightly around her palm, as if refusing to let go.

Before she could react, her vision went blank. The frail and ghostly dragon girl abruptly disappeared.

Then, something heavy weighed down on her wrist.

She looked down—sure enough, a familiar little black dragon had appeared.

Unlike when she was a child, the dragon’s scales were now even more radiant, a pair of dragon horns had grown atop its head, and even its four claws were fully developed.

The powerful dragon claws did not grasp her arm but remained slightly curled, as if afraid of scratching her.

How obedient. Zhuyou placed her pale fingertip lightly on Changying’s forehead, just a soft touch before withdrawing her hand.

In the distance, the ice bridge stretched only a short length, with a jade-like crane sculpture on one side, so lifelike that it seemed to be preening its feathers.

The female disciple turned, wiping her tears away. She glanced back, her heart full of sorrow—no one, not a single person, had stayed for her. She bit her lower lip and was just about to step onto the bridge when she suddenly lurched forward, as if she had collided with something.

Her eyes widened in shock, then half-lidded again in an instant. Tears welled in her reddened eyes but did not fall. The anger and guilt on her face vanished completely, as if she had become an entirely different person.

Her body remained unchanged, but her soul had been forcibly taken, leaving her under someone else’s control.

The one who had taken over her body was Zhuyou. She brushed aside the strands of hair covering her new face’s vision. The once pitiful girl now exuded an air of ethereal detachment, with no trace of frailty left. With a slight crook of her finger, a black serpent-like dragon slithered across the ice, its four claws carving deep, jagged marks into the frozen ground.

Changying had horns, and all four claws were fully formed, yet it still struggled to fly. It could only crawl across the ice, looking utterly pitiful.

Amid the vast whiteness of the snowy landscape, its body was covered in black scales, a stark contrast to the frozen world around it.

Zhuyou flipped her palm upward, waiting for Changying to coil around her.

The black dragon on the ice suddenly sprang up. Its golden eyes were cold and emotionless, its presence as mighty as if it were soaring toward the heavens—yet it did not ascend. Instead, it limply landed on Zhuyou’s wrist, coiling its tail tightly around her arm.

On the other side of the bridge, disciples from another sect were emerging one after another. These were people who had been unable to enter Shenhua Mountain.

One of them, seeing Zhuyou standing alone, asked, “Why haven’t you left with the rest of your sect’s disciples?”

Zhuyou pondered whether she should squeeze out a tear to act the part or simply ignore them. Hiding her dragon-wrapped wrist behind her back, she furrowed her slender brows slightly, putting on a truly pitiful expression. “My shidi hasn’t come out yet. I need to go back and find him.”

The person nodded slightly and did not inquire further, following the crowd as they moved away.

Zhuyou crossed the ice bridge, presented an invitation, and re-entered Huacheng Sect with Changying.

She had not come to challenge Shenhua Mountain again. The mountain was likely guarded by immortals now, and besides, there was nothing left inside worth making another attempt for.

Changying, coiled around her wrist, shifted slightly. The rough texture of her hardened scales scraped gently against Zhuyou’s skin as a voice resonated in her mind. Why have you returned here?

“To retrieve something,” Zhuyou replied as she maneuvered past several disciples. She rode the wind upward, her movements as light as the drifting snow around her. Narrowing her eyes slightly, she spoke with such natural ease, as if she were simply reclaiming what was rightfully hers.

But Changying knew better—this devil had never left anything behind in the Mortal Realm. Whatever she sought must belong to someone else.

Zhuyou moved swiftly with the wind, heading directly for the main peak. The snowfall swirled around her, but none touched her. With a delicate push off her toes, she landed effortlessly on the peak’s tower spire.

Inside the highest level of the tower, there was only a primordial spirit. Judging by the aura and cultivation level, it was likely Zhou Xizhao.

Zhuyou stroked Changying twice in a soothing motion before abruptly plunging downward. She passed straight through the green tiles of the tower’s roof and landed inside.

At the tower’s summit, the luminous night pearl glowed steadily. Zhou Xizhao, dressed in white, remained seated cross-legged on a meditation cushion. Though he heard the sound of her arrival, he did not turn his head. Instead, he sent a burst of spiritual energy toward the intruder behind him.

Zhuyou concealed her presence and reached for the Heaven-Observing Mirror on the table. She did not evade his attack. Instead, she raised her hand slightly, and the fierce gust of spiritual power dissipated at her fingertips, dissolving as though neutralized.

The difference between humans and immortal devils was precisely this.

Zhou Xizhao had not expected his attack to land on nothing. His shoulders and neck tensed, his voice sharp with vigilance. “Who’s there?”

Zhuyou spread her fingers wide, and in an instant, a pitch-black cloth covered the Heaven-Observing Mirror. Without hesitation, she tucked the now-concealed mirror into her robes and suddenly stepped forward, positioning herself directly in front of Zhou Xizhao.

She could not understand—why did this man refuse to turn around? Was he hideous beyond bearing, or was there another reason?

Zhou Xizhao felt the air shift before him, yet he could not see even a shadow. Holding his breath, he spoke coldly, “Stop playing tricks.”

Zhuyou slowly bent down, her gaze locking onto Zhou Xizhao’s nearly pitch-black eyes.

The sect master of Huacheng Sect had devil’s eyes.

When had he become tainted by the devil’s path? Could it have been a hundred years ago, when he entered Shenhua Mountain to save his disciple?