Zhuang Sheng’s Dawn Dream, Bewitched by Butterflies, Part 4

Yun Yao’s plan was, in her mind, flawless.

The Saint Lord “Origin” had vanished from the Three Realms, untraceable even if this demon lord turned the immortal realm upside down.

Saint Lord “Transcendence” loved wandering the mortal worlds, likely tucked away in some obscure corner of the three thousand lesser worlds. That left Saint Lord “Calamity,” the only Saint currently presiding over the immortal realm.

Ancient legends held that the Three Saints each had their roles and strengths. The other two rarely appeared, so immortals knew little of them, but Calamity, who governed sin and punishment, was both well-known and deeply feared.

His prowess in offensive techniques was unmatched—rumor had it that even the five divine lords combined couldn’t defeat him. Of course, such godly battles were beyond what a minor immortal like Yun Yao could witness firsthand.

So, before Mu Hanyuan left, Yun Yao “kindly” pointed him toward Calamity’s divine palace and his usual cultivation grounds.

Then she sauntered back to the Fate Palace, awaiting the “good news.”

As she landed outside the Fate Palace, she spotted Yun Qiao peeking out on tiptoes. Seeing her, Yun Qiao rushed over in a panic. “Yun Yao! Are you alright? I heard you were taken by an extraterrestrial demon!”

“I’m fine, don’t worry,” Yun Yao twirled in place. “See? Not a scratch.”

“Oh, thank goodness…” Yun Qiao, still shaken, rambled as she pulled Yun Yao inside. “I heard from the Green Wood Palace’s immortals and rushed over. The Fate Palace was scorched black—I nearly fainted…”

Yun Yao’s first act was to check the three thousand star lamps hanging from the palace’s dome, ensuring the lesser worlds were unaffected. Relieved, she sat down.

Gulping cold tea, she recounted her perilous day to Yun Qiao, who gasped repeatedly, ending with a stunned, “You *actually* told him where Lord Yuling’s palace is?”

Lord Yuling was Saint Lord Calamity’s divine title.
Legend said the Three Saints could hear all within the Three Realms when their names were spoken, so immortals rarely uttered them, using divine titles instead.

—Yun Yao, with her spineless exterior and lack of reverence, was an exception.

“Why panic? You think Lord Yuling can’t handle him?” Yun Yao set down her teacup, tilting her head.

Yun Qiao instinctively retorted, “Of course not—but even Green Wood Divine Lord was beaten and fled…”

“Though the Three Saints and Five Lords are all Eight Divine Lords, the Saints are ancient deities born with the heavens. The five lords, impressive as they are, ascended from the mortal realm and cultivated for eons to reach divinity. They can’t compare to the Saints.”

Yun Qiao nodded, her last worries fading. “True enough.”

“So, we just wait for the good news.”
Yun Yao leaned against the desk, grinning as she poured more cold tea.

They waited until day’s end.

Outside, immortal maidens bustled, bringing gossip from the Ninth Heaven.
“…Today’s thunder of divine punishment was terrifying. I haven’t heard such a sound in eons!”

“That demon’s formidable—heard he beat Green Wood Divine Lord black and blue, forcing him to flee to the mortal realm to find Saint Lord Transcendence. Yet he dared challenge Yuling’s sacred mountain!”

“He’s only strong for now. Lord Yuling’s not like Green Wood. He governs the Three Realms’ sin and punishment—his aura alone makes even high immortals tremble.”

“The sooner that demon’s gone, the better, lest he brings calamity to the mortal realm.”

“Exactly…”

Rumors flew, but Yun Yao, the instigator, lounged carefree.

A day later, the Ninth Heaven’s commotion finally ceased.
The dense tribulation clouds shrouding the immortal court dispersed.

“It’s over,” Yun Qiao said, returning from the window to sit by Yun Yao. “Even high immortals didn’t dare approach the battle. No one knows the outcome.”

“No need to guess.”
Yun Yao casually filled out her duty log, closed the scroll, and tossed it onto a nearby shelf.

Leaning back, she lifted her perpetually cold teapot, pouring into her cup. “With Lord Yuling there, that demon’s done for. Maybe he’s already sealed or sent to the Netherworld, sparing the world his chaos.”

Yun Qiao laughed, exasperated. “The Heavenly Cold Jade can freeze a small world’s time and space, but it wouldn’t be wasted on a mere demon.”

“True. Knowing Saint Calamity’s temperament…” Yun Yao gazed at the trickling tea, musing, “I wonder if he’d cast him to the Netherworld or just scatter his soul…”

“Yun Yao?” Yun Qiao called hesitantly.

“What a pity, that lotus flower and the consciousness within…”

“Yun Yao!?”

“Huh…?”
Yun Yao snapped back, realizing the table was flooded with tea—her overfilled cup, the culprit her teapot. She yelped, set it down, and used a spell to clean the mess.

“What were you thinking, so lost you didn’t notice the tea spilling?” Yun Qiao asked, concerned. “You didn’t hurt your head, did you?”

Yun Yao swatted her probing hand away. “Just remembered something.”

“What could make *you*, who cares about nothing, so distracted… Wait, where are you going?”

“To… collect… a corpse.”

“What??”

—

On the way to Yuling’s Divine Palace, Yun Yao rehearsed her reasons:

She felt no pity for that ruthless demon, nor guilt for tricking him into a deadly trap. It was just… that lotus flower, so innocent, so mundane, devoid of any spiritual aura. In the immortal realm, filled with rare treasures, such ordinary things were precious…

Yes, she was just checking on the flower’s fate.

Halfway there, she stopped rationalizing.

Not because she faced her true feelings, but because the journey was grueling for a low-powered maiden like her. She nearly ran out of immortal energy and still hadn’t arrived.

Saint Lord Calamity, as if to flaunt his status, built his palace higher than the Ninth Heaven, nearly freezing her.
By the time she got there, would that demon, Mu Hanyuan, be reduced to ash?

With that thought, she urged her dwindling energy, speeding through the misty clouds.

After burning through who-knows-how-many incense sticks, she finally reached the boundless Yuling Divine Palace.

Exhausted, she landed, clutching a jade pillar and panting. “This blasted palace… why’s it so high… I’m dead… *huff*…”

Catching her breath, she stepped forward.

Overexerted, her legs buckled, nearly tumbling her off the platform for visiting immortals.

At the critical moment, a cold aura steadied her in midair.
Saved from face-planting, she turned to thank her rescuer. “Many thanks to this divine lord for saving me. I’m deeply—”

Her words cut off.

By the platform’s jade pillar stood a figure in tattered black robes, blood seeping through his pale neck, stark against the lingering dark clouds, exuding an allure at odds with the palace’s sanctity.

Seeing his jade-like, exiled-immortal face, Yun Yao’s vision darkened. “You’re… *still alive*?!”

“…”

A low, cold scoff brushed her ear, making her shrink her neck.
He sat against the pillar, tilting his head to look at her. “What, here to collect my corpse?”

His voice was hoarse, heavy with exhaustion.

Yun Yao looked closer, noticing a gruesome, flesh-torn wound on his neck, blood soaking his robes, seeping into his collar.

The pillar he leaned on was cracked, its upper half gone, the lower half riddled with fractures.

…Such damage to a divine pillar showed how brutal the battle was.

Anyone else facing Saint Calamity would be reporting to the Netherworld’s underworld by now.
Yet he was still alive.

Thinking this, she cautiously approached. “Can you… stand? What about Saint Lord Calamity?”

“…”

But this demon lord, despite his stunning face, had a temper to match.
Ignoring her, he closed his eyes, treating her like air.

Yun Yao gritted her teeth, suppressing her irritation, and crouched beside him. Seeing the bloodstains seeping from his robes into the jade platform, she frowned unconsciously.

Following the blood, her gaze landed on his elegant neck, where two sharp, striking lines appeared as he turned his head.

Up close, she saw clearly: the wound was from Calamity’s divine punishment brush, its lingering blue immortal energy tearing at the bone-deep gash, arcs of power ripping flesh, preventing healing.

His aura was weaker than even hers.

He really fought Saint Calamity…

Frowning, her voice was light. “I warned you, Lord Demon, not to act recklessly. This is the immortal realm—you can’t do as you please. You didn’t listen, and now look at the mess you’re in.”

As she spoke, she reached to check the wound hidden in his collar.
But as her wrist neared his jaw, he grabbed it.

His grip nearly crushed her bones. His brows rose, long lashes lifting to reveal cold, piercing eyes.
“Courting death?”

“You’re the one mistaken, Lord Demon.”

Yun Yao slowly pried his fingers off, demonstrating what it meant for a tiger to fall to a dog’s bullying.

“In your pathetic state, even a random high immortal—no, their *mount*—could finish you off.”

From somewhere, she produced an immortal-binding rope. Under his chilling, menacing glare, she wrapped it around his wrist, loop by loop, finishing with a smug butterfly knot.

“This is better. I’m timid—this makes me feel safer.”

“…”

Yun Yao expected him to fight back in rage.

But he didn’t.
Instead, he looked at her with an odd, complex expression.

On closer inspection, it held a trace of detached pity.

His gaze gave her goosebumps. “Why are you looking at me like that, Lord Demon?”

After a silent moment, he spoke lazily. “Since ascending, have you always been forgetful and sleepy?”

“…How do you know?”
She was baffled.

“Your Saint Lord told me.”

“No way!” Yun Yao laughed, incredulous. “With thousands of immortals, I’m a drop in the ocean. Why would a Saint remember me?”

“The Wheel chose you for a reason.”

Mu Hanyuan, seemingly rested, rose from the pillar, ignoring the blood dripping from his robes onto the ground.

Yun Yao’s scalp tingled.
She couldn’t fathom the pain, nor how he acted as if the wounds were someone else’s, speaking and smiling unfazed.
…Truly a mad demon.

“Let’s go. What are you waiting for?” He’d climbed the platform, glancing back with a mocking sneer. “Waiting for your Saint Lord to personally escort you?”

Snapping back, Yun Yao hurried after him, tugging the binding rope. “I decide where we go. Why’s Lord Demon in such a rush?”

“…”
His gaze darkened at the rope pulling his wrist, then shifted to the smug little immortal.

Such a petty, triumphant look.
Same face, yet none of her master’s grace.

Fine.

—Given her doomed fate, he’d let it slide.

Recalling Saint Calamity’s earlier words, irritation stirred in him.

His jaw tightened, a cruel smile curling his lips.
“…Alright, you decide.”