It had been three days since her arrival here and the agreement made with him. Since that day, the bracelet on Qi Yue’an’s wrist had remained firmly in place. However, it also granted her the freedom to move about within these grounds.
She found herself aimlessly wandering through the castle-like palace.
The attendant who brought her meals had mentioned that this was Lin Xiao’s Demonkin domain, a place called Dawn Star Hall. Its sky perpetually existed in either dawn or night, swiftly transitioning between the two at the appointed times.
This explained how she had known it was morning when she awoke in bed with him earlier; the day-night cycle here mirrored the outside world, merely omitting noon and dusk.
The section where she resided seemed to contain only a single bedroom. Corridors, resembling starships, connected that space to a world of resplendent halls, a dizzyingly tall library, and a piano nestled within a sea of purple flowers; together, they formed her small, personal realm.
Few people ever came here. The ticking of a clock, the occasional touch of the piano keys, and the rustle of turning pages now comprised her entire leisure time.
While such solitude might be unbearable for some, for her, it felt just right. She yearned for her master’s return each evening, anticipating the warmth of his body in the night. Yet, she also felt frustrated by the persistent silence that always fell between them during their encounters.
They could no longer converse with the ease they once shared. Since their reunion, he had grown so taciturn, having traversed far more journeys than she. She yearned to catch up to his shadow, yet found herself constantly lost and bewildered.
“What truly are love and affection?”
She pondered this question with vexation. Though she had resolved to become a more significant presence in his life, her mind became a muddle whenever she tried to conceive of the concrete steps to take.
Their daily meetings always occurred in the evenings, when he would return, weary and silent. He would simply treat her as a large body pillow, clinging to her warmth without ever letting go. Despite this, their relationship never progressed further, as if she were merely an exquisite doll.
Pacing with her troubles, she inadvertently traversed the most desolate corridor. This corridor marked the boundary of her small world, and following it would lead to other areas of Dawn Star Hall.
This was the most crucial nexus, a long corridor stretching like a plank bridge across a high sky. Pale, suspended curtains lined its sides, and directly ahead, a colossal clock ticked, providing a rhythmic accompaniment to her footsteps.
The curtains projected chaotic scenes: another version of herself and him, repeatedly passing through different stories, sometimes collaborating, sometimes opposing. Each time, it was that other ‘her’ who anchored the souls of civilization, watching him depart towards a new world.
‘He must be so weary from enduring all of this,’ she thought, pressing a hand to her chest, then to the scar on her neck. A torrent of emotions surged within her—a mix of inferiority, self-reproach, and a touch of confusion.
‘Surely, this version of me isn’t worthy of love,’ she mused. ‘Always preoccupied with my own desires, forcing him to acknowledge my current self in such a manner, offering no recompense to someone who has already endured so much, only to hurt him again in this way…’
“But… I truly… don’t want to be forgotten by him… I don’t want to be submerged beneath his shadow…”
A terrible headache seized her; the affliction that had begun days ago flared up once more. Another voice resonated in her mind, followed by many more, growing increasingly chaotic.
“You are truly awful. Have you forgotten? Your original wish was to die peacefully and be replaced by a more perfect self, wasn’t it?”
****
“You, too, deserve your own happiness…”
They presented their arguments.
“Your own happiness? Setting aside how arrogant that wish is, are these ignoble deeds truly your means of achieving it?”
****
“I resent this… Why does he get to snatch away the future I painstakingly found…”
“Your own future? You mentioned him often enough around Xiyin and the others, didn’t you? And you’ve been using them to pursue your past, haven’t you?”
****
“Admit it, you’re a twisted individual, stubbornly pursuing others yet acting like an idiot with no strategy, only to be ludicrously defeated by yourself in the end.”
“You’ll never escape that shadow; you can only harm him and yourself in this manner! Xiyin and the others are fortunate to have broken free from a jinx like you. You deserve nothing more than to be imprisoned here as raw material! You spoke of grand ambitions before, yet you can’t even utter a word of concern. Such a person as you isn’t even fit to be a stress toy!”
“No… that’s not true! I’ve always cared deeply for him, held him in high regard!”
Violent clamor permeated her thorn-ridden mind. The demonic energy within her body surged, corroding Qi Yue’an’s soul. Even with a daily supply of sufficient cores, her rampant demonic energy remained profoundly severe.
She had heard that her demonic energy’s lineage was ‘Youdu,’ meaning Envy. It was precisely this envy that allowed her power to corrode and incinerate the minds and bodies of all her adversaries.
She had once envied the lives of ordinary people immensely—their every joy and sorrow, their vibrant youth. She envied their ability to laugh naturally, to pursue their desires, unlike her, who was both solitary and clumsy.
The yearning for a better self, born from this envy, coupled with the dark side of jealousy, formed the genesis of that wish and the source of her power.
Yet, every wish carries a price. Since learning his death was a lie, since she was brought here, ‘this’ her very existence had become an unforgivable sin. The flames of envy, originally directed at the world, had turned back upon herself, upon this mistaken being. The words spoken by her other self—that she, too, had the right to pursue happiness—were both a blessing and a curse.
Clenching her teeth, the chaos in her mind relentlessly tormented her consciousness. Were it not for the bracelet, which inexplicably completely suppressed demonic energy, her body would likely have been incinerated by the rampant flames of envy just moments ago.
Before leaving… she had forgotten to take another core that could slightly suppress the demonic energy’s chaos. However, apart from this accidental oversight, she typically avoided touching such things unless absolutely necessary.
These cores were all condensed from the souls of Demonkin. Though most belonged to irrational Demonkin, knowing only destruction, they had once been living humans. While she lacked Xiyin’s idealism, she also couldn’t plunder and use them as casually as the Greedy Wolf Squad.
“Is this… the price of a wish?”
“I truly… yearn to see him just one more time…”
Clutching her head, her inability to concentrate left her unable to stand upright, like an invalid. She could only crawl forward.
“Xiao… I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you I want to see you…”
As she moved towards the exit of this area, the chaotic voices in her mind seemed to perceive her vague intention. Their cacophony unified, propelling her, for the first time, to venture out of the zone he had advised her never to leave casually.
Stumbling through the long corridor that projected images of endless cycles, Qi Yue’an inadvertently arrived at a more “public” section of Dawn Star Hall.
The architectural style here remained grand, yet it possessed a touch more vitality. Occasionally, Demonkin of various attire and extraordinary auras hurried past.
“So this is… the ‘Queen’ brought by the Demon King?”
At her arrival, surrounding gazes quickly converged upon her. She had to force herself to maintain as composed a posture as possible, fighting through her chaotic mental energy.
“She looks quite beautiful… but is it really alright for her to be a magical girl? That group is, after all…”
They conversed, yet their expressions betrayed neither malice nor fear; instead, curiosity seemed to dominate. This diverged from her expectations. It appeared that while Dawn Star Hall was externally known for its “Demon Lord” and “Your Majesty, the Demon King,” its internal structure was not a rigid feudal system. Their relationship with Lin Xiao was more one of recognition and allegiance than of humble subservience.
As she continued walking, Qi Yue’an encountered Li Yan at what appeared to be a crossroads.
Li Yan, who had once collaborated with her in the school’s ‘rule-based ghost stories’ and possessed a straightforward, uninhibited nature, now seemed to be an executive codenamed “Wrath.” Upon seeing her, a faint, almost imperceptible flicker of guilt crossed his face.
After all, he had indirectly led her to her current circumstances.
“Uh… Qi Yue’an?”
Li Yan scratched his head, his tone less forthright than usual.
“Are… are you alright?”
Qi Yue’an halted, her pale face devoid of expression, offering only a slight nod. She bore no grudge against Li Yan; each served their own master, or rather, pursued their own beliefs.
Seeing her calm reaction, seemingly without any intention of causing trouble, Li Yan visibly relaxed, his demeanor becoming a little more natural.
To his surprise, Qi Yue’an initiated the conversation, her voice carrying a barely perceptible hoarseness.
“Li Yan, do you know… where Lin Xiao is right now? I wish to see him.”
Her tone remained as placid as ever, yet to Li Yan, coupled with her slightly disheveled hair and pale complexion, it conveyed an ineffable sense of poignant suffering.
“The Boss, huh.”
Li Yan used the appellation quite naturally.
“At this hour, his work should be wrapping up. He’s probably heading to the bathhouse to relax, within his own designated area.”
Every executive, including Lin Xiao himself, possessed an exclusive area within Dawn Star Hall, reflecting their personal style.
“A bathhouse?” Qi Yue’an paused, slightly taken aback. For the past few days, she had been washing in the bathroom attached to her bedroom, never having ventured into such a public facility.
“Where is it?”
Li Yan pointed in a direction, his gaze growing somewhat peculiar, as if he wanted to say something more, but ultimately only added.
“Follow this path to the end, then turn left at the corridor adorned with blue crystals. The largest domed building there is it.
“However… are you sure you want to go now?”
Qi Yue’an offered no reply, merely committing the route to memory. She gave him a slight nod of acknowledgment, then walked, step by step, in the direction he had indicated.
Li Yan watched her slender, resolute figure disappear behind a pillar. He stroked his chin, muttering to himself.
“Sigh… these two certainly play a complicated game… it’s just a pity for the others.”
He said this, then finally threw up his hands.
“Never mind. Let them sort out their own affairs.”