Chapter 35: Jade Maiden, the Peach Demon

From the empty, desolate depths of the mountain, eerie voices echoed from the dilapidated temple, enough to make one’s scalp tingle with fear.

Xu Xuan stepped quietly to the window, gazing out through its broken lattice. The clear moonlight spilled down, illuminating the courtyard outside as if it were broad daylight. Yet there were corners the moon failed to touch, shrouded in impenetrable darkness—like the murky shadows lurking beneath an age of peace.

At the base of a low wall outside the monk’s quarters, where the moon’s rays could not reach, stood a hunched old woman, her back bent with age. Leaning on a cane, a wooden hairpin thrust into her hair, she wore a gray robe that looked even more sinister in the moonlight—and she cast no shadow at all.

Seeing this, Xu Xuan’s brow furrowed. To be without a shadow—she must be a ghost!

In that moment, a figure flitted like a wraith, appearing before the old woman in a heartbeat. It was a woman in a scarlet robe, her features regular enough, but her face was twisted with resentment. A silver hairpin crowned her head, glimmering in the moonlight.

The two specters spoke in hushed tones, but Xu Xuan heard every word with perfect clarity.

The woman in red murmured, “Who was that here today? Even from afar, the aura around him made my skin crawl, as if I’d been thrown into a furnace.”

The old woman coughed softly. “Whoever he is, he’s no one we can afford to provoke. Likely some martial master from afar—if we crossed him, he could destroy us with a flick of his finger.”

The woman in red nodded. “You’re right. For us shades, nothing is more dreadful than the murderous blood-essence of a martial master. Thank goodness he’s left.”

The old woman let out a chilling laugh. “It’s just as well he’s gone. Now we can act as we please. Two people remain here tonight. One carries the aura of lightness, the other the subtle fragrance of a scholar. Offer their flesh and blood to the Ancestor, and it will be a great deed indeed.”

Hearing this, Xu Xuan’s sword-like brows drew together, a cold smile flickering across his handsome face.

He and the Fox King had already masked their auras, appearing as nothing more than ordinary travelers to avoid alarming these shades. Their true strength was well concealed; the ghosts merely saw them as unlucky passersby, ripe for slaughter.

The woman in red cast a glance toward the monk’s quarters, grumbling, “Why hasn’t Yun Niang arrived yet?”

The old woman glanced up at the moon and smiled. “No need to hurry. She’ll be here soon.”

“She always puts on airs,” the woman in red said coldly. “It’s sickening. She thinks she’s above us all, just because the Ancestor favors her.”

The old woman sighed. “That girl is deep as a well. Best not provoke her lightly.”

Just as her words faded, petals began to drift through the air, and a form slowly coalesced—a stunning young maiden, beauty incarnate.

At her arrival, the two ghosts fell instantly silent. After all, gossiping behind someone’s back is never commendable.

The girl’s gaze was deep as she regarded them, though it was impossible to tell whether she’d overheard their words.

Forcing a smile, the old woman greeted her. “Yu Niang, you’re finally here. We’ve waited for you. Tonight is your turn to earn merit.”

The woman in red laughed lightly. “Such beauty, Yu Niang—you must be a fairy reborn. No man could resist your charms.”

Yu Niang’s voice was cool and calm. “Everything I do is to repay the Ancestor’s kindness in saving my life. Once the Ancestor marries the Fox Princess and breaks through his realm, I will leave this place for good—then no one need endure my presence.”

It was clear Yu Niang carried some sorrow. She seemed weighed down and estranged from the world, as if untouched by mortal dust.

Xu Xuan, watching from the shadows, couldn’t help but admit this maiden’s beauty rivaled even that of Zhao Jinqian. Slender under the moon, her pale face framed by delicate brows and sorrowful eyes, she radiated a fragile melancholy that made one want to draw her into an embrace for comfort.

The three conversed for some time before Yu Niang turned toward the monk’s quarters, prepared to begin the loathsome business she knew so well.

Behind her, the old woman and the woman in red exchanged cold smiles, clearly displeased with her conduct.

Yu Niang stopped first at the Fox King’s door. The Fox King, a formidable demon in the Condensed Core realm, had already been alerted to their conversation outside, but he, like Xu Xuan, feigned ignorance.

Yu Niang laid a delicate hand on the door. The latch, long since broken, yielded easily to her touch.

Stepping inside, she found the room empty. Her brows knit in concern—where had the Fox King gone? Perhaps he had merely stepped out briefly. In this Orchid Temple, leaving unscathed was never a simple matter.

Turning away, Yu Niang left the Fox King’s room. The moment she did, the Fox King’s figure materialized in the once-empty space. A faint smile played on his handsome features. A mere three centuries of cultivation, and that little peach spirit could be fooled by such a simple illusion.

This temple was far too close to the Black Cloud Ancestor’s lair; the monsters and ghosts here were naturally his underlings, preying on passersby. The Fox King’s true target was the Ancestor himself, and until Zhao Wuji returned, he intended to remain dormant, so as not to startle the denizens of this haunted place.

Yu Niang, leaving the Fox King’s chamber, turned her gaze, and headed toward Xu Xuan’s room.

At that moment, Xu Xuan was inside, immersed in cultivation. Practicing the Great Sun Sutra, he felt as if a blazing fire were burning within him—a heat as fierce as a miniature sun, its radiance strengthening his spirit. Though progress was slow, each step was pure and unfaltering.

As Yu Niang approached his door, she felt a wave of scorching heat—a force that suppressed her own powers. Yet, with the Ancestor’s talisman to protect her, she was undaunted. What danger could a mere scholar possibly pose?

Clenching her silver-white teeth, she placed her jade-like hand on the door and gently pushed. The battered door creaked open.

A faint, intoxicating scent drifted out—the fragrance unique to scholars. At the same time, a sliver of golden light shone from Xu Xuan, its touch bringing a flush of color to Yu Niang’s pale cheeks.

Her expression changed in shock. This was the purest yang energy in the world.

For spirits and monsters, if they did not devour human blood, they were forced to absorb moonlight, drawing out the single thread of yang within it. The sun’s power was far too fierce—absorbing its essence directly would be tantamount to suicide for such creatures. Even human cultivators, unless they had reached the stage of walking in daylight, would be destroyed if they lingered under the sun.

But the yang in moonlight was gentler, easier for spirits to absorb. This was why monsters so often preyed upon the living—human blood was rich in yang, making it a coveted resource for their cultivation.

As Yu Niang reeled from her discovery, Xu Xuan ended his practice.

His eyes burned with intensity as he gazed at her exquisite form standing in the doorway. He asked, his voice calm:

“Who are you, miss? What brings you here at this late hour?”