The Nature of the Serpent

Shuanghua was a realm of extreme frost, famous throughout the Three Thousand Worlds; even its teleportation altars were carved from frozen slush and snow.

As he stepped off the altar, Su Jiu-shao felt numb with cold. Shivering, he rubbed his arms and glanced at Bai Yujing, who was currently clinging to Xuan Lie’s arm nearby.

“Exalted Immortal,” the little beauty cooed, his voice natural yet thick with cloying affection, “I’m so cold.”

Without a word, Xuan Lie unfastened his cloak and raised a hand to tuck the youth into his embrace.

Jiang Xinyue: “…”

Su Jiu-shao looked away, having long since grown used to the sight, but Jiang Xinyue was still unaccustomed to it, her expression hovering between hesitation and speech.

Right then, a voice formed from spiritual sense rang out in her ear: 【This stone needs to soak in a hot spring every night. Arrange the accommodations accordingly; they needn’t be too lavish.】

Jiang Xinyue: “…”

The Demon Emperor had been so “conspicuously discreet” with his instructions that if she still didn’t understand, her years as a Demon King would have been lived in vain.

After a moment of silence, Jiang Xinyue spoke up. “Night falls. I invite the two of you to reside at the Jade Pool. As for this human friend, if you do not mind, please follow me back to the Dihua Palace.”

Su Jiu-shao said hurriedly, “This junior is overwhelmed by your kindness. Thank you for the favor, Demon King.”

Xuan Lie’s response was concise: “Much obliged.”

That night, within the Jade Pool, Bai Yujing leaned dripping wet against Xuan Lie’s shoulder, his arms hooked intimately around the man’s neck.

The red jade bracelet shimmered; his wrists were like congealed snow.

Xuan Lie took hold of those wrists, pulling them down from his neck. He looked at the person in his arms and repeated his earlier warning: “Return before the hour of the Rat (midnight).”

Bai Yujing started, then laughed. “Yes, yes, I know… Your discipline is so strict, Exalted Immortal.”

Xuan Lie didn’t answer. Instead, he fished the serpent’s tail out of the pool water, inspecting it closely under the moonlight.

Confused, Bai Yujing asked, “What are you looking for?”

“The place where your scales were torn off.”

Bai Yujing froze for a second before smiling. He reached up to hook his arms around the man’s neck again, his waist exerting a slight force as he turned to sit sideways in Xuan Lie’s lap.

With that movement, the lower half of his body—previously submerged in the spring—was suddenly exposed to the moonlight. Bai Yujing took Xuan Lie’s hand and placed it gently against his lower waist.

“You’re feeling the wrong spot, Exalted Immortal… The place where the scales were pulled is here.”

“…”

Xuan Lie stared unblinkingly at the spot. “Since it has healed, why have no new scales grown?”

“A snake demon can only grow new scales during the molting period,” Bai Yujing explained, before his mouth got the better of him. “Besides, only immature hatchlings have scales covering this area.”

The implication was clear: he was almost no longer a “little snake.”

Xuan Lie, taking advantage of the spring water, unceremoniously stroked the spot. Hearing this, he said indifferently, “I recall that you have one molt left before you reach maturity.”

Bai Yujing: “…”

…How did this man manage to act like a rogue while maintaining such a cold, expressionless face?

Bai Yujing’s waist trembled; he cursed inwardly even as he grabbed the man’s meddling wrist. With a fake smile, he said, “Yes, your memory is indeed impressive, Exalted Immortal.”

“The serpent clan enters a dream state when molting.” Xuan Lie seemed entirely oblivious to the sarcasm. As he kneaded the soft flesh of that spot, he asked bluntly, “When is the next molt?”

…Even a couple on their wedding night would have some small talk before getting down to business! This “vile stone” wasn’t even pretending anymore!

Bai Yujing held the man’s wrist in a stalemate, his mind racing.

He might be able to resist a normal dream intrusion, but if someone manipulated his dreams during the molting period…

Bai Yujing shuddered. He forced the thought away and lied through his teeth. “Then I’m afraid I’ll have to keep you waiting, Exalted Immortal. I don’t know when the next molt will arrive. Perhaps five years, perhaps ten—it’s impossible to say.”

“No matter.” Xuan Lie stroked the soft flesh and said tonelessly, “I will wait.”

…Wait for your damn father then!

Sensing the “tiger” at his side, and with his body turning half-weak from the touch, Bai Yujing feared he would lose even more face. Thus, using “revenge” as a pretext, he slipped out of the Jade Pool that night. After placing a restriction on the jade bracelet to block the spiritual stone’s tracking, he summoned Jiang Xinyue under the cover of darkness.

【Affected by the demonic aura of this land, my predicted molting period has moved forward by a few days. Now, even I cannot calculate the exact date.】

For once in his life, Bai Yujing was cautious. Even with the restriction on the bracelet, he didn’t dare speak aloud, using spiritual transmission instead.

【Find me a place that can completely shield me from Xuan Lie’s divine sense. Give it to me within two days.】

Jiang Xinyue bowed her head in obedience. 【Understood.】

【Remember,】 Bai Yujing pursed his lips, 【this place must not be discovered by Xuan Lie. It must be a secret among secrets.】

A flicker of something subtle crossed Jiang Xinyue’s face, but she quickly suppressed it. 【Yes, I understand.】

With that, she bowed and vanished into the night.

Having settled this major anxiety, Bai Yujing finally breathed a sigh of relief and lifted the restriction on the jade bracelet.

However, on the way back from the Dihua Palace, he realized he had used “revenge” as the excuse to get Xuan Lie to let him out. If he did nothing and simply went back, he wouldn’t be able to account for his time. But if he went looking for his targets now, he would likely miss the midnight curfew.

Just as Bai Yujing was torn between acting spoiled to get away with it or simply breaking the rules, two familiar auras drifted toward him from the distance.

…Talk about a windfall.

Bai Yujing looked out across the moonlit landscape. Ten miles away, two shadows were reflected on the ice: Wang Qinghe and Du Jingchun.

Amidst the midwinter snow, Du Jingchun grumbled while shivering, “All the cold-resistant gear that bastard Bai Yujing gave us was pawned off by Liuming! He knew we were coming for the Jingwei Stone, yet that fool didn’t think to keep even one piece!”

“Say less. What’s done is done; complaining is useless,” Wang Qinghe said flatly. “Besides, the summoning array requires a massive amount of spiritual stones to activate. Liuming didn’t act on his own whim.”

Hearing the underlying meaning, Du Jingchun paused, not daring to argue further. He merely muttered resentfully, “But the Jingwei Stone is a sacred relic of the demon race. Even if the Demon Emperor is dead, it should be sealed in some Great World. Why would it be in such a frigid—who’s there?!”

The two of them froze, whipping around, only to see a familiar figure standing on the ice under the moonlight.

“—!”

Their hearts nearly stopped. They stood paralyzed, unable to move a muscle.

Seeing them look over, the person smiled and waved. “Long time no see, you two.”

As his sleeves fluttered, the red jade bracelet on his wrist looked exceptionally vivid in the night—dark and rich, like fresh blood.

“What are you looking for? Is there anything this Seat can help you with?”

The beauty who had once scolded them and urged them through their cultivation walked toward them with a smile.

Everything was just like old times.

Du Jingchun’s eyes bulged with terror, but under the weight of a massive pressure, his body remained rooted to the spot.

Impossible… impossible! How could Bai Yujing be here? Furthermore, he was just a Golden Core stage snake demon—how could he possess such an aura?!

It was fake. It had to be a hallucination…

The bright moonlight spilled over the ice, reflecting three shadows. One of them approached with unhurried steps.

However, halfway there, that figure suddenly began to melt like a doll made of pulled sugar.

The crystalline “syrup” flowed and reshaped itself under the starlight. Finally, a graceful, towering serpent shadow solidified before them, looking down from above.

“…”

Driven by terror, Wang Qinghe’s mouth fell open. Tears and sweat poured down her face as she shook like a leaf. She was powerless against what was happening, forced to watch in utter despair.

A body that was still a “young” snake wasn’t large enough to swallow a human whole. It had to crush the bones first. Once the horrific, wet crunching sounds faded into silence, it slowly drew the body into its gullet.

Crunch… crunch…

The young serpent seemed to have been well-bred; its “table manners” were exceptionally elegant. In the silent night, the only discordant sound was the chattering of Wang Qinghe’s teeth.

The meal finished. The white snake slowly turned its head, its eerie and beautiful eyes locking onto Wang Qinghe’s glazed, terrified stare.

【Shh—】

【Don’t make a sound.】

That was right. How could they have forgotten?

In her numb, broken state, Wang Qinghe finally remembered.

Snake demons were the most vengeful creatures among the myriad tribes, and the Sky-Reaching Serpents were the pinnacle of that trait.

Rumor had it that the Sky-Reaching Serpents were inherently loyal and loved to procreate, yet they would instinctively kill an unfaithful mate or a rebellious child.

The clan loved to breed, and once mature, their lifespans were incredibly long. The reason they remained so few in number was twofold: first, they were extremely picky about mates, but once chosen, they were loyal unto death.

Second, an instinct carved into their nature made them unable to stop themselves from wanting to lay eggs for their partner—but while they doted on their brood, there would come a moment where they would devour every single rebellious hatchling among them.

Thus, the Sky-Reaching Serpent clan was born with a wealth of experience in hunting their own offspring.

Give birth, nurture, and then devour…

In truth, they were the ones who truly resembled the “Creator” described in Shen Fenglin’s “New World”—the one who could create everything at will, and erase it just as easily.

The serpent shadow melted once more under the starlight, finally shifting back into the figure Wang Qinghe knew so well.

She stood there like a wooden statue as the other person reached out—just as he used to do after a training session—and adjusted her collar, which was now splattered with blood.

“My apologies. I’ve been raised a bit lazily lately; my eating habits were a little unseemly.”

“When you go back and see Fenglin, remember to tell him that Jingchun accidentally died on the back side of Shuanghua, and there was nothing you could do.”

“Do you have that memorized?” The beauty flashed a dazzling smile and used the familiar nickname he had always called her by, his voice intimate. “Otherwise, you’re next—”

“Xiao He.”