A Glimmer of Compassion in the Demon’s Lair

Su Xiaoxiao had only been in the dungeon for two days.

Gu Yan’s words proved true; her body could not withstand the demon realm’s biting cold. Even residing in a courtyard as warm as spring required constant energy to maintain her health, let alone the damp, frigid conditions of the dungeon.

When Gu Yan arrived with medicine, she found Su Xiaoxiao huddled so deeply within her quilt that her face was obscured. Gu Yan called out to her repeatedly, but Su Xiaoxiao remained unresponsive.

Reaching out to check, Gu Yan discovered Su Xiaoxiao’s skin was frighteningly hot to the touch.

“Su Xiaoxiao?!” Gu Yan cried out, her voice laced with urgency, but no reply came.

She immediately rushed out, addressing the demon soldiers guarding the dungeon. “Go tell His Lordship,” she commanded, “she cannot remain here any longer.”

Ever since Su Xiaoxiao had been imprisoned in the dungeon, Xiyue had entered seclusion. Her injuries had grown alarmingly worse; during each cultivation session, the slightest lapse in concentration would cause her inner demons to surface, conjuring vivid hallucinations that threatened to strip Xiyue of her sanity.

The messengers dared not disturb the Demon Lord, leaving Gu Yan with little choice but to prioritize Su Xiaoxiao’s immediate removal from the dungeon.

Gu Yan carefully lifted Su Xiaoxiao into her arms, surprised by how frail and feather-light she felt. She swiftly carried her back to the side hall where Su Xiaoxiao had previously resided.

Once Su Xiaoxiao was settled on the bed, Gu Yan attempted to administer the medicine, but found that not even a single drop of the herbal concoction could be coaxed down her throat. Hoping to rouse her, Gu Yan then transferred some spiritual energy into Su Xiaoxiao, but the attempt proved counterproductive. Su Xiaoxiao merely erupted into a violent fit of coughing, wrenching up mouthfuls of fresh blood.

Gu Yan, rarely so flustered and at a loss, urgently cried out, “Su Xiaoxiao!”

“You must drink this medicine!”

“You don’t want to return to the South Sea, do you, Su Xiaoxiao?!”

Su Xiaoxiao’s face was ashen, utterly devoid of color, and her body appeared terribly frail, as if she might draw her last breath at any moment, closing her eyes never to awaken again.

Gu Yan sent someone to summon Xiyue, but no one dared to approach her.

This was a mermaid imprisoned in the dungeon by the Demon Lord’s own decree. Even a Ghost Doctor’s words couldn’t compel them to defy Xiyue’s direct orders.

With no demon soldier daring to approach, Gu Yan grew furious yet powerless. She could only instruct Chitang, the rabbit spirit who attended to Su Xiaoxiao, to stay by the bedside. “If the bracelet on her wrist shatters,” Gu Yan stated gravely, “send someone to report it immediately.”

Chitang, somewhat dazed, quickly nodded their head.

Fearing Chitang hadn’t fully grasped the gravity of the situation, Gu Yan seized one of their long ears and declared sternly, “If you fail to heed my words, and this mermaid perishes, everyone in this room will be buried alongside her.”

Hearing these words, Chitang’s long ears shot upright, and the tail behind their backside bristled with fright.

Terrified, they nevertheless attempted to maintain the dignified stance of a rabbit spirit, as if ready to vanish without a trace.

Chitang stammered, “–Yes, yes!!”

****

Gu Yan made her way to the cold spring in the back mountains, where she roused Xiyue from her chaotic cultivation.

Xiyue, displeased by the intrusion, frowned and spoke with a chilling tone. “Gu Yan,” she asserted, “do you truly not comprehend the meaning of ‘respect for hierarchy’?”

Gu Yan had no time for pleasantries. “Su Xiaoxiao is likely at death’s door,” she declared urgently.

Xiyue’s expression remained impassive, though her brows furrowed almost imperceptibly, a deeper crease forming between them.

“Whether she lives or dies is of no concern to me. You’ve disturbed my cultivation, and for that, you’ve brought upon yourself—” Before Xiyue could utter the words “a punishment,” Gu Yan interrupted loudly. “Stop pretending, and drop the act of cold indifference! I brought her back from the dungeon; she can’t even swallow a single drop of medicine and has coughed up a terrifying amount of blood.”

Xiyue’s expression shifted ever so slightly, and she immediately turned, striding out.

The snow continued to fall, and the biting wind assailed them like sharpened blades.

The moment they stepped into Su Xiaoxiao’s small courtyard, a cacophony of anxious voices reached their ears.

It seemed Su Xiaoxiao was coughing blood again within the inner chambers, leaving the demon attendants under her command flustered and discussing in hushed, disorganized whispers.

“Your Lordship!!!”

As Xiyue crossed the threshold, the potent scents of blood and bitter medicine assailed her senses.

Several demons clustered around Su Xiaoxiao’s bed. Su Xiaoxiao lay on her side, her wrist, adorned with a red jade bracelet, hung limply over the edge of the bed. The red threads within the bracelet glowed with an unnerving, intensified vibrancy.

Xiyue’s expression darkened further. “Gu Yan, stay,” she commanded. “Everyone else, leave.”

Noticing the main door and windows were still ajar, Xiyue ordered them to be securely shut.

The room was bitterly cold. As the others were ushered out, Gu Yan caught Chitang, who was trying to slip away, and instructed the rabbit spirit, whose small face was etched with confusion, to bring in several charcoal braziers.

Once silence descended, Xiyue sat by the bedside. Su Xiaoxiao lay unconscious, her garments marred by streaks of blood.

Her breath was faint, like a wisp of smoke, and occasionally her lips would stir, as if attempting to articulate something unspoken.

Xiyue leaned down slightly, and with one gentle arm, she lifted Su Xiaoxiao. As Su Xiaoxiao rested against her, the movement caused her to cough up a little more blood, which now stained the corner of her lips.

In just two short days, Su Xiaoxiao appeared to have wasted away significantly, her chin now sharper, her frame so delicate that a mere gust of wind seemed capable of toppling her.

Her body was terribly cold. When Xiyue took her hand, it felt no different than clutching a piece of ice.

Gu Yan presented another bowl of medicine, her expression deeply troubled. “I—I’ve tried to feed her several times,” she confessed, “but I can’t get any of it down.”

Gu Yan took the bowl, intending to administer the medicine herself, but Su Xiaoxiao kept her lips tightly sealed, making it impossible. Xiyue then gripped Su Xiaoxiao’s jaw, attempting to force some down, yet only succeeded in soaking her clothes, without getting a single drop into her. Instead, the commotion roused the dazed Su Xiaoxiao, who slowly opened her eyes.

Upon seeing Xiyue’s face, Su Xiaoxiao, surprisingly, appeared less agitated than Xiyue herself.

Ordinarily, Su Xiaoxiao would react to Xiyue like a mouse confronting a cat, but this time was different. She showed no great fear, nor did she struggle to recoil as she usually would.

Instead, she simply gazed at Xiyue with vacant, lightless eyes, her fragile, pallid face a picture of utter despondency.

Xiyue held her close, her embrace firm, and began to warm Su Xiaoxiao’s body with spiritual energy. Her tone remained detached. “If you’re awake,” she stated, “drink the medicine yourself.”

Su Xiaoxiao remained motionless. Seeing no immediate refusal, Xiyue didn’t press the matter, instead bringing the medicine herself to Su Xiaoxiao’s lips. This, however, only triggered a fresh bout of coughing from Su Xiaoxiao.

The medicine was intensely bitter; merely catching a whiff of its pungent odor was enough to make Su Xiaoxiao recoil.

“Su Xiaoxiao!” Xiyue’s voice held a hint of anger. “Don’t be willful at a time like this. Do you truly wish to die?”

Su Xiaoxiao met her gaze, her eyes welling up with tears, shimmering hazily through a watery mist.

Her discomfort had rendered her exceptionally fragile and sensitive; Xiyue’s slightly colder tone was enough to make her feel wronged and on the verge of tears.

Xiyue paused. Seeing the little beauty weep suddenly rendered Xiyue utterly flustered. She thrust the medicine bowl at Gu Yan and began haphazardly wiping away Su Xiaoxiao’s tears.

“W-why are you crying?!” she stammered. “I told you to take your medicine; I’m not trying to harm you.”

The timid, pitiful little fish was cradled in her arms, and the usually volatile and unpredictable Su Xiaoxiao now appeared almost docile, even a little foolish.

‘Were Su Xiaoxiao not teetering on the brink of death, Gu Yan, standing by the bedside, would surely have settled in as if watching a human opera, complete with a plate of melon seeds and a cup of clear tea. She would have savored the spectacle, delighting in the sight of the esteemed Demon Lord so utterly flustered. How amusing,’ she would have thought.

Su Xiaoxiao wept in soft, reedy sobs, interrupted every few moments by a fit of coughing, only to resume her crying once it subsided.

Unsure of Su Xiaoxiao’s exact condition, Xiyue felt an unconscious surge of anxiety. She raised one hand to Su Xiaoxiao’s chest, channeling spiritual energy into her, while her other hand rested on Su Xiaoxiao’s back, holding her gently.

“What exactly do you want?” Xiyue asked, her voice softening slightly. “Can’t you even speak anymore?”

Su Xiaoxiao’s emotions finally stabilized enough for her to speak, her voice thick with sobs. “So cold,” she choked out. “So dark. I don’t want to go back… that place is scary…”

Something sharp seemed to pierce Xiyue’s heart, though her expression remained unreadable. She feigned a casual tone. “If you don’t want to go, then you won’t,” she assured her. “Just drink your medicine, be obedient, and I won’t ever lock you up again.”

Just days prior, the two had been locked in a fierce, unforgiving standoff, each refusing to yield. Yet now, it seemed, both were willing to soften their stances.

‘Remarkable, truly remarkable,’ Gu Yan mused.

Gu Yan sighed, offering the herbal concoction once more, but Su Xiaoxiao still found it incredibly difficult to swallow.

Xiyue, seemingly growing impatient, uttered, “Is it truly that bitter?”

Tilting her head back, Xiyue took a large mouthful of the medicine. Then, gripping Su Xiaoxiao’s neck to prevent her from struggling, she pressed her lips against Su Xiaoxiao’s, carefully transferring the entire dose into her.