Chapter 822: The Demon is Also Quite Cute

Chapter 822: Even a Demon Lord Can Be Adorable

Piaomiao cast a sidelong glance at Zhao Changhe, feeling that he shouldn't be this clever—no matter how she looked at him, he was a brute accustomed to risking his life, both in appearance and in combat style...

Yet from the memories shared with Yangyang, he did seem genuinely intelligent.

But she was extremely reluctant to extract Cui Yuanyang's memories; every contact brought a cloying, nauseating affection, and sharing too much of that could subtly influence her own likes and dislikes.

At that thought, Piaomiao suddenly grew irritable and struck a blow straight at the top of Poxun's head.

Poxun had been about to say something, but after that hit, all words were choked back. His phantom twisted violently from the beating, and the soul-chain tightened and contracted with his distortion, still binding him tightly.

Piaomiao tested it, then rubbed her fists and stepped forward again.

A continuous barrage of thuds and explosions rang out, accompanied by shrill screams. Zhao Changhe sprinted backward for dozens of li, shaded his eyes with his hand, and peered into the distance, his expression twitching.

This was Piaomiao venting all the demonic rage she'd accumulated after falling to corruption onto Poxun, and probably also releasing the resentment of being bound all the way. Zhao Changhe watched the scene of mountains crumbling and earth splitting from afar, thinking that even with his bronze skin and iron bones, he'd be dead after such a beating. Poxun truly lived up to his title of immortal body—aside from his pitiful screams, his aura hadn't weakened at all. It looked like he could take a lot more, enough for Piaomiao to have her fun.

Served him right... The original Piaomiao was so kind; even when she killed, it was just a nod of the head. How could she ever torment anyone? It was Poxun who made her fall to corruption, and being abused by the corrupted Piaomiao was nothing but self-inflicted suffering.

After a long, earth-shaking beating, Piaomiao dragged the battered, unrecognizable Poxun over and threw him to the ground: "You kill him. I can't."

Zhao Changhe looked; Poxun had already been beaten unconscious... But after a moment of silence, he sighed: "I can't kill him now either."

"Why?" Piaomiao glared at him angrily: "According to the Ye sisters' thinking, you could even kill them. Why can't you kill this one?"

"Because my inner demon has already been stirred up. Can't you see I'm struggling to suppress it?"

Piaomiao hadn't noticed, but now she saw that Zhao Changhe's face was flushed, his eyes slightly red, and his gaze at her was extremely off...

Everyone was playing tricks of deception, and Zhao Changhe hadn't completely avoided the trap. He had at least underestimated Poxun, thinking that with this kind of pattern, once he saw through truth and illusion, it would be easy to fight. He dared to get so close, only to have his inner demon guided so directly. Who in the world would dare play games with Poxun like this? Even Ye Wuming might not dare. Even if it was clearly an act, the desires within still spread recklessly.

But if he hadn't thrown himself into the game like this, how could he have bound him? An unsolvable problem.

Now the issue was that the inner demon he had stirred up this time was desire—and specifically for Piaomiao!

Seeing Zhao Changhe's expression, Piaomiao's face turned a mix of colors: "What kind of number one on the Heavenly List are you? Your heart is full of flaws—weakness, dependence, and lechery!"

Zhao Changhe barely kept his voice calm: "But I won. And you're the one who fell to corruption."

"You!" Piaomiao really wanted to kill him. She suddenly reached out and grabbed his throat: "If you die, this is solved!"

Zhao Changhe painfully grabbed her wrist: "But if I die, who will help you deal with Ye Wuming?"

"Is that why you dared to remove the chains binding me?" Piaomiao sneered: "What makes you think I still have reason? How could you have such expectations?"

"...I even hoped you'd kiss me after I said a few words. Poxun already showed you my thoughts, you know."

"You!"

"Since it's all been revealed, I can't hide it from you, so I won't bother covering it up."

Piaomiao knew this wasn't Zhao Changhe being unusually straightforward. He could easily have claimed it was just a surface thought to mislead Poxun. The reason he dared to say it so bluntly was entirely because his inner demon was rampant, and he could no longer hide his desires.

It wouldn't be wrong to say Zhao Changhe was half-corrupted now.

His breathing grew heavy. At first, he was just instinctively holding the hand that choked him, but now he was unconsciously stroking her arm...

If this counted as drugging, then it was the most terrifying aphrodisiac in all of heaven and earth, past and present. And copulation was absolutely not the solution—it was the path to death, eternal damnation.

Piaomiao grabbed Zhao Changhe by the neck and viciously slammed him to the ground, creating a huge crater: "Snap out of it!"

But in the end, she didn't kill him.

Smoke filled the pit, and Zhao Changhe's weak cough came through, tinged with a hint of laughter: "Even in this state... you held back..."

Piaomiao sneered: "If you want to die, I'll grant your wish!"

Zhao Changhe said with difficulty: "Kill... Poxun... His death is the real solution."

Piaomiao fell silent.

She couldn't kill Poxun.

Poxun's existence was too special. When his avatar was shot by Zhao Changhe before, Ye Jiuyou could only take the treasure, not kill him. Piaomiao was the same as Ye Jiuyou... Even Ye Wuming might be useless. This kind of special being was meant to be killed by Zhao Changhe, but now Zhao Changhe was like this...

"Take him away, southeast, to Xiangyang... The monks might be able to purify him... The safety on the road is up to you. Don't rely too much on the chains. Poxun is everywhere; the chains only bind the main body, there's more..."

Poxun: "..."

"I can't go on. Any longer, and I'll rape you." Zhao Changhe managed a final smile of clarity, then suddenly struck himself on the neck, knocking himself unconscious in the pit.

Piaomiao dropped into the pit, looked down at the unconscious Zhao Changhe, and fell into a long silence.

He actually dared to faint in front of her... putting his life in the hands of someone who had fallen to corruption.

And he had knocked himself out, just to suppress the demon of desire.

Piaomiao suddenly realized that her only use on this trip was to be a burden. From start to finish, she had played the role of a tantrum-throwing brat, not only contributing nothing but also injuring Zhao Changhe. Meanwhile, Zhao Changhe's combat and wisdom had shone like a god from beginning to end.

The memories of Cui Yuanyang's past and present kept overlapping, from the threshold to the imperial realm, never changing.

"Now... it's my turn to protect you." Piaomiao helped Zhao Changhe up, hesitated for a moment, then carried him on her back. With one hand, she grabbed Poxun and flew southeast.

Poxun quietly opened his eyes, trying to use an illusion to break free. As Zhao Changhe had judged, the chains only bound the main body; Poxun was everywhere and couldn't be completely locked down.

But the moment he tried to stir up trouble, a fist slammed into his head: "I've seen through your truth and illusion from the start. Don't think I'm like Zhao Changhe, playing guessing games with you!"

Poxun wanted to cry but had no tears.

If you've always seen through it, why didn't you say a word? Was it fun playing the bound little wife carried all the way?

The tragedy was that Piaomiao wasn't bluffing. No matter what tricks Poxun tried, they had no effect. Every time a thought arose, he got a beating, completely suppressed.

The vast rivers and mountains reflected all evil. Back then, the Qinghe Mirror only had partial effect and helped Zhao Changhe see so much—let alone Piaomiao herself. She was actually the most professional in this area... At first, she stayed silent for Zhao Changhe's training, but after falling to corruption, she became a burden... Now Piaomiao was furious and wanted to prove herself, but there was nothing left to show off except beating Poxun...

The Snow Owl, hanging far behind, abandoned any thought of rescue and decisively retreated. Who would dare provoke a demon lord at the third level of the imperial realm?

Along the way, the various demons that Poxun had corrupted since his revival had been cut down by Zhao Changhe, carrying Piaomiao on his back, with one man and one blade, charging in and out seven times. But the damage wasn't too severe; they were still a powerful demonic force, second only to the unfathomable Ye Jiuyou. The Snow Owl pondered for a long time, then suddenly smiled and vanished.

...

Xiangyang.

Monks like Yuancheng and Yuanxing were sitting cross-legged with palms together around an ancient Vajra Buddha, as if listening to a sermon. The sound of Buddhist chants filled the air with solemn peace.

"All conditioned phenomena are like dreams, illusions, bubbles, shadows, like dew and lightning—thus should they be contemplated..."

The ancient Buddha was halfway through his recitation when his eyes suddenly bulged in shock: "Such a strong demonic aura! At least three demons are approaching! Quickly form the Arhat Great..."

Before he could finish the word "formation," the crowd's vision blurred, and before them appeared a doll-faced beauty with demonic energy swirling and a fierce expression.

On her back, she carried a large man covered in wounds and blood. Even in his unconscious state, one could feel a heavy lust, radiating enough to disturb the monks' pure minds.

The sight of the girl carrying the man was absurdly mismatched, like a rabbit carrying a bear, almost completely hiding her figure. Only her head poked out, revealing a round face. It was an adorable scene, but combined with the heavy demonic aura of the two, it felt inexplicably eerie.

What terrified the monks most, however, was not the pair. It was the unknown object wrapped in chains that the girl held in her left hand. The aura emanating from it made the monks tremble with fear, as if it were their most direct mortal enemy.

"Po... Poxun?" The ancient Buddha was dumbfounded.

How could the mighty demon Poxun be carried like a clay pot in someone's hand? Who were this absurdly height-different man and woman?

The beautiful girl snarled: "What formation? Are you asking for death?"

The ancient Buddha stammered: "Which... which demon lord are you? Why have I never seen you..."

This aura was terrifying. Even in the ancient times when demons were everywhere, this level would not exceed the number of fingers on one hand.

It was then that Yuancheng finally came to his senses: "King Zhao! Miss Cui... no, Princess Zhao! How could it be the two of you?"

Ancient Buddha: “?”

“You’re saying this terrifying demon lord is the Zhao Princess Consort? Ah, right, she’s fallen into demonhood, not naturally like this… Strange, does the Zhao Princess Consort have such cultivation? When did the top of the Heavenly Rankings ever belong to the Zhao King? His husbandly authority must be gone…”

“Since you recognize her, then it’s simple—help him purify her.” The beautiful girl tossed the chains and clay pot aside like trash, then laid Zhao Changhe flat on the ground. “If you can’t purify him, you’ll all be buried with him!”

She didn’t even refute being called the Zhao Princess Consort.

If Zhao Changhe were awake, his heart demon might have worsened… Even Piaomiao, in her demonic state, didn’t deny being the Zhao Princess Consort! Under normal circumstances, Piaomiao like this wouldn’t seem too strange, but for a demon-possessed Piaomiao to act this way—he could probably be proud of himself…

Unfortunately, Zhao Changhe wasn’t awake. The monks, however, were truly terrified.

You’re tossing Papiyas like trash right onto our main hall!

That really is Papiyas, isn’t it?

Uh, no—what she means is that Papiyas doesn’t matter; what matters is purifying the Zhao King?

The Ancient Buddha could no longer sit steady on his lotus throne. He cautiously approached to examine Zhao Changhe’s condition, his expression conflicted: “This… a heart demon? Carnal desires? How can they be so intense… Even if Papiyas triggered it, there must be a seed. Since you two are already husband and wife, is this really necessary?”

Even in his coma, he was stiff as a rod, and the aura emanating from him—if you bathed in that water, you could brew a cartload of aphrodisiacs… Truly worthy of being top of the Heavenly Rankings—even in this aspect, he was extraordinary.

“…” The beautiful girl glared. “Less nonsense—can you cure him or not?”

The Ancient Buddha glanced at her, thinking to himself: The Zhao King is only in a coma, and as long as you hide yourself, there are no women here, so even a lust demon can’t do much. Your demonization is the real trouble—your chest is filled with hatred and malice. What’s keeping you standing here, acting fierce instead of killing outright?

But of course, he couldn’t say that in front of this young mistress. He quickly replied: “For your couple’s problem, we can form a formation and chant spells to suppress it, but we cannot eradicate it. To root it out, we need to resolve the source, combined with our methods.”

“What is the source?”

“If the Princess Consort harbors hatred, then the hatred must be avenged; if the Zhao King has a woman he cannot obtain, then obtaining her will suffice.”

Piaomiao frowned: “If he indulges in such a state, he’ll only sink deeper. That’s exactly what Papiyas wants. Do you even understand?”

The Ancient Buddha was quite confident: “That’s because we weren’t involved. As long as we suppress his heart demon first, and then fulfill his long-cherished wish, it will naturally dissolve.”

Piaomiao was irritated: “Since you’re so confident, suppress it first. We’ll talk about the rest later.”

“Then… Princess Consort, forgive my impertinence.” The Ancient Buddha sat cross-legged before her, signaling the surrounding monks to form a formation with him at the core. The monks chanted in unison, and soon a brilliant golden light arose, with golden scriptures circling Zhao Changhe and Piaomiao, slowly rotating.

Piaomiao instinctively struck out with a palm: “He’s the one who needs purification—what does it have to do with me!”

As her palm struck, it felt as if the entire universe pressed in from all directions, drawing everyone in the hall into a vast expanse of mountains and rivers.

“Boom!” The monks in the hall were all thrown back. The Ancient Buddha, whom the Buddhist sect regarded as their ultimate hope, couldn’t even withstand half the blow—he was slammed into a pillar in the corner, nearly collapsing the hall.

Zhao Changhe suddenly opened his eyes on the ground and grabbed Piaomiao’s wrist: “Don’t hurt anyone…”

Though the grip was weak, Piaomiao was caught. She struggled to break free: “Let go! I wasn’t even serious—they’re just too weak!”

“Piaomiao!” The Ancient Buddha was horrified. “You are Piaomiao! How could Piaomiao fall into demonhood? That’s impossible!”

He held back another thought… So the seed of Zhao Changhe’s desire was Piaomiao? There’s actually someone in this world who wants to bed the mountains and rivers of the realm?

Zhao Changhe said weakly: “Nothing is impossible… It’s our fault for hurting the masters. I, Zhao, apologize on behalf of my unworthy wife. Please help us purify and suppress first… If she refuses, we’ll deal with it later. Just solve mine first.”

“But she…”

“Oh, what’s wrong with a demon lord? Demons can be cute too. The Four Symbols Sect is still a demonic sect—who’s purifying them? It’s fine.”

Ancient Buddha: “…”

Piaomiao: “…”

The monks exchanged glances and gathered around again, puzzled… This was indeed a great demon lord filled with hatred, the kind who would want to destroy society. Normally, she wouldn’t even bother talking to you—just kill. But that palm strike just now was truly restrained; though everyone was thrown back, no one was hurt.

Was it because Piaomiao’s true heart was so kind that she could still control herself even in demonhood? Or because her husband was restraining her, just as the Zhao King restrained the Four Symbols Sect?

Forget it—better not pry into the affairs of the mighty. Just do what monks ought to do. The monks formed the formation again, golden light rose once more, and this time they avoided Piaomiao’s wrath, focusing solely on Zhao Changhe.

Tiny golden specks enveloped Zhao Changhe, scriptures swirling and circling. Before long, he fell into a deep sleep again. The expression on his sleeping face was visibly much more peaceful, no longer twisted by the desire that could be sensed from afar.

Piaomiao stared fixedly at the change and finally let out a sigh: “It seems Zhao Changhe came to the right place. As for Papiyas, do you have any ideas?”

The Ancient Buddha said: “We can suppress and seal him for now, but how to resolve it will require some thought… Hmm… Actually, you yourself are quite capable of purifying evil, but because you’re demon-possessed, you can’t. If you were willing…”

Piaomiao was silent for a moment, then picked up Zhao Changhe again: “Give us a guest courtyard… Let him rest first. We’ll talk later.”

A monk quickly came to lead the way. Zhao Changhe stayed curled in her arms, looking up at her fierce yet adorable expression, unable to look away.

Was it that no matter what kind of demon lord, as long as they had a face like Yangyang’s little white rabbit, even fierceness became adorable?

He wondered what Piaomiao’s own face looked like deep in her consciousness now—was it still as venomous as before? Probably not…

Piaomiao’s face was expressionless: “You protected me in the first half; I’ll protect you in the second. That’s all—we’re even. If you keep staring at me like that, I’ll gouge out your eyes. I mean it.”

Zhao Changhe finally smiled: “Even if you gouge out my eyes, my Blood Demon Undying Body plus the Revival Art can regenerate them—just a bit more trouble than other wounds.”

“Are you saying that to encourage me to gouge them out?”

“No. It’s just that I can’t help but look at you.”