Chapter 109: Soft-Eared Mama’s Boy 24

“Screeech—”

The old wooden door creaked open, pushed by a pair of snow-white, taut knuckles.

Jiang Rang lifted his gaze slightly and caught sight of a beauty wrapped in a coarse black garment, as if sculpted from ice and snow.

His face was like peach blossoms on pink cheeks, his frame carved from frost and chill. Damp white hair piled on one shoulder, a glistening droplet clung to his slightly pointed jawline, slowly melting and trailing seductively into the collar of his black robe.

He pushed the door open, his face pale with a sickly pallor, but his pale lips curved into a faint, bittersweet smile directed at the young man.

Jiang Rang’s dark eyes contracted slightly, his throat bobbing instinctively twice.

The clothes on Zhu Miaojie’s body were his.

Their builds were similar, so the black garment fit the man perfectly. Normally, though, Zhu Miaojie rarely wore dark colors—his excessively pale skin made any hue look odd or washed-out on him.

He was still rather insecure about it. Especially in front of Jiang Rang.

Of course, the man didn’t wear only light colors day in and day out. Having tasted the flavors of desire, Zhu Miaojie knew full well that for his young lover, the occasional thrilling challenge or change could serve as a spice to heat up their relationship.

Lovers always had their unique little bedroom quirks.

Between them, for instance, Jiang Rang seemed to love seeing him in his own clothes.

The black fabric enveloped that bone-pale body, as if the young man’s flesh and very breath had burrowed into him.

The contrast between black and white was overwhelmingly stark, and every time, Jiang Rang would lose control, latching onto the nearly translucent hollow of his neck or collarbone, kissing fiercely.

So, when Zhu Miaojie donned the young man’s clothes, it was tantamount to an invitation for intimacy.

Jiang Rang awkwardly turned his head aside, as if struck by the same thought, a flush of crimson blooming faintly across his face.

This winter felt exceptionally long; it had been far too long since they’d been intimate.

The young man coughed dryly twice, fumbling in a panic for a dry cloth. He wrapped it gently around his lover’s damp cheeks and dripping hair ends.

Jiang Rang’s gaze darted away. “Uh, Ah Miao, there’s medicine warming in the kitchen. Go drink it quick—the rest I’ll handle.”

Zhu Miaojie’s white lashes trembled, his lips pursing into a lovely arc. He murmured a soft assent, his voice husky yet serene and gentle, bearing no trace of the sickly horror he’d hidden beneath the water just moments ago.

Jiang Rang hurriedly sidestepped into the room, his young body carrying the chill of snow and ice inside. The heat of the room made his already flushed cheeks glow even redder, slick with warmth.

Inside the Small Room stood a steaming wooden tub, gentle ripples playing on the water’s surface—peaceful and warm.

Jiang Rang was strong enough to lift the hefty tub with ease, but for some reason, in the flickering light and shadows, he felt as if something in the tub was shimmering faintly.

The water rippled, and a sliver of silver light rose slightly to the surface from the basin’s depths.

Jiang Rang froze, instinctively reaching in to fish it out.

Spreading his five fingers, a palm-sized silver snake scale lay revealed in his hand.

Jiang Rang had lived in the Village for a year now. This little hamlet bordered the mountains, so snakes, rats, bugs, and ants occasionally invaded homes.

Every household in the Village dealt with such pests to some degree, so nearly every family kept realgar pouches and medicines on hand.

Oddly enough, though, the Small Room Jiang Rang had bought never saw a single snake or insect.

Not only that—even the benign beasts from the mountains never crossed his threshold, as if a living King of Hell guarded the door.

Jiang Rang never dwelled on it, but whenever the villagers complained bitterly, he’d lend a hand.

The villagers were simple folk and would repay him with realgar pouches or herb packs.

Unwilling to refuse their kindness, the young man accepted them all.

But that one time, as he carried a full armload of realgar remedies through the door, Zhu Miaojie had frowned, covering his nose, and grumbled dully, “A-Rang, what did you bring back with you?”

Jiang Rang had answered honestly without a second thought. The man showed no odd reaction, merely suggesting mildly and tactfully that they had no need for such things at home—he didn’t much like the pungent realgar powder either.

The young man hadn’t thought twice about it. Naturally, he respected his lover’s wishes, but he couldn’t very well discard the villagers’ heartfelt gifts, so he’d stowed them all at the bottom of a chest.

Jiang Rang examined the scale in his palm closely, a flicker of doubt stirring in his mind.

Winter was snake-hibernation season, and their home had never had such troubles anyway. Still, better safe than sorry—he ought to check thoroughly.

No sooner said than done. He searched high and low but found no sign of a snake.

Puzzled, Jiang Rang was still mulling it over when he noticed a slight bulge in the soft cotton bedding on the simple wooden bed.

The young man’s sharp brows twitched. He lightened his footsteps, knuckles tensing, and abruptly flipped back the quilt.

Under the bedding was not the venomous snake he’d imagined slithering into their home, but a Purple Thorn Beast cub with fluffy fur—soft, adorable, and utterly cuddly. The little beast was curled into a tight ball, trembling timidly.

Jiang Rang let out a sigh of relief, then couldn’t help but chuckle.

This Purple Thorn Beast was the little pet he’d given Ah Miao a few years back to keep him company. Later on, it had followed the two of them into the Mortal Realm.

Purple Thorn Beasts had an extremely long growth period, with physical changes that came on very slowly. On top of that, Jiang Rang and Zhu Miaojie hadn’t exactly been in a position to raise a child properly over the past two years, so the cub’s appearance hadn’t changed a bit.

Jiang Rang gently scooped up the soft little creature, but it reacted as if startled by something terrible. A pitiful wail escaped its mouth as it flailed its claws and teeth in panic, accidentally scratching the young man’s arm in the process.

Jiang Rang paid it no mind. He’d developed far more patience since his days at Shizun’s knee, and it wasn’t long before he had the cub soothed.

Yet for some reason, the tiny beast couldn’t stop quivering, looking all the more pitiable for it.

Jiang Rang felt a twinge of puzzlement. As he gently patted the young Purple Thorn Beast in his arms, a thought crossed his mind: over the past two years, he couldn’t shake the feeling—whether it was just his imagination or not—that this Purple Thorn Beast was deathly afraid of Ah Miao.

The fear didn’t resemble that born of injury. No, it felt more like an innate suppression, deep in the bloodline.

The notion made the young man chuckle to himself.

What nonsense was he coming up with? Ah Miao was human, not a demon with some primal form. There was no way he could suppress a Purple Thorn Beast on an instinctual level.

The far likelier culprit was Ah Miao’s calamitous constitution, which had the sensitive little cub terrified and unwilling to draw near.

“…A-Rang, what happened?”

The door creaked shut behind the newcomer, whose voice drifted out soft and languid. A faint smile played on his lips, like moonlight on the verge of being shrouded by a veil of mist.

Zhu Miaojie’s icy gaze lifted from the trembling Purple Thorn Beast nestled fearfully in the young man’s arms, replaced by a look of concern. “What’s wrong with Azai?”

Azai was the name the two of them had given the Purple Thorn Beast—something dear and cherished.

Jiang Rang shook his head. He knew full well that telling the truth would only wound his lover’s feelings.

Zhu Miaojie doted on Azai endlessly, and the cub was always perfectly well-behaved around the man… obedient to the point of not daring to twitch a muscle.

With a subtle shift in his eyes, the young man sidestepped the question. He held out his hand with a troubled expression. “Ah Miao, take a look at this. What do you make of it?”

“I found this snake scale in the bath bucket. It’s huge—I’m worried a big snake out in the cold wanted to sneak inside for shelter. No telling if it’s venomous… Did you notice anything odd while you were washing up?”

Zhu Miaojie’s moon-pale face went rigid in an instant. It was a long moment before he murmured, as if to cover something up, “I didn’t see anything strange in the house…”

The man paused, his dark, lusterless eyes flickering as he added softly, “But I’ve heard there’s often big snakes by the stream on the village edge where folks fetch water—silver as liquid moonlight. Maybe this scale drifted in with the current.”

Jiang Rang mulled it over and grudgingly accepted the explanation, though he filed it away in the back of his mind.

Ah Miao’s reasoning held water, sure enough. But snakes were supposed to hole up for hibernation in winter—why would one be slithering around now?

The young man didn’t dwell on it. He’d just poured some water when a frantic knock sounded at the door.

Jiang Rang wiped his hands and hesitated for a beat. He exchanged a glance with Zhu Miaojie, then they went to answer it together.

There stood the young scholar with his refined features. He must have run the whole way, for sweat beaded across his forehead. The sight of the young man and the striking figure at his side brought a flush of embarrassment to his cheeks. He wiped at the sweat almost reflexively, caught his breath, and said, “Brother A-Rang, trouble in the village—the Village Chief sent me to fetch you to the Ancestral Hall for a meeting!”

Jiang Rang blinked in surprise. “Do you know what it’s about?”

The young scholar stole a glance at the man beside the young man, whose eerie stare sent an inexplicable shiver down his spine. He forced himself to look only at the tall, reassuring figure before him and said in a soft voice, “Not the details, no. But word is, the chickens Second Uncle Zhang keeps got stolen from the village. The few left were gnawed to bits by something awful—holes right through their necks!”

“It’s not the first time it’s happened here, but this…”

The young scholar shuddered despite himself, his face draining of color. “Second Uncle Zhang said that come morning, he spotted someone skulking around his chicken coop.”

“He went to get a closer look and saw a fox… with a human head!”

“That demon entity has a human face and a beast’s body, and it’s utterly ferocious. When it saw its plot exposed, it bit Second Uncle’s leg and fled into the distance. Brother A-Rang, your skills are second to none among the hunters, so the Village Chief sent me to fetch you for a discussion.”

Jiang Rang’s expression changed at once upon hearing this.

From the description, it had to be a fox demon—one that hadn’t cultivated deeply enough to fully transform, the very same that had been stirring up trouble in the village lately.

He hurriedly said to the Young Scholar, “I’ll go grab my sword. I’ll be right with you.”

The Young Scholar nodded and waited anxiously by the door.

Zhu Miaojie’s white lashes trembled without cease. His face was already pallid, and clad in black robes, he stood amid the snow like he might dissolve into the fine white flakes and vanish altogether.

The Young Scholar sized him up and down, holding his breath for a long moment before sniping with a venomous edge, “Physician Zhu, you’re one lucky soul… To snag a fine husband like Brother A-Rang looking like that—who knows where you picked up those tricks for keeping a man in line.”

Zhu Miaojie said nothing. He didn’t even raise his eyes, merely keeping them lowered in a picture of utter submissiveness.

The Young Scholar took it for weakness and pressed his advantage with a mocking sneer. “If you ask me, Physician Zhu, with a face like yours, you must be hiding some terrible affliction. Brother A-Rang’s still young. Why not set him free to find someone more to his liking?”

Zhu Miaojie remained silent for a long while. At last, he slowly lifted his gaze. Those pitch-black eyes held a dead, emotionless void, and the way the man stared at the youth made him seem less like a living person and more like some lifeless curiosity.

Then, in a tone laced with inscrutable meaning, he asked, “…If that’s how it is, then who do you think would make a suitable wife for A-Rang?”

The Young Scholar’s face flushed faintly at the thought of something or other, his expression turning boyishly smitten as he clammed up.

Footsteps interrupted their exchange.

The Young Scholar looked up to see Jiang Rang and parted his lips to speak.

But in an instant, he fell silent as a muted bell, his face rigid.

There stood the youth in his rough hunter’s garb—handsome despite the simple clothes—shaking out a beautifully woven cloak. With the gentlest of motions, he draped it over the white-haired beauty’s shoulders.

Jiang Rang carefully fastened the ties, his long fingers smoothing the man’s damp hair and wiping the snow from his cheek. In the softest voice, he murmured, “Ah Miao, your hair’s still wet. Hurry inside and dry it properly—you’ll catch your death of cold. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Zhu Miaojie gave a soft hum of acknowledgment. Sensing the Young Scholar’s gaze upon him, jealous as a venomous snake, he slowly curved his lips into a hazy, mist-like smile.

The man tilted his head and brushed a kiss against the youth’s full, rosy lips. “Hurry back, then. I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

“Alright.”

The hurried footsteps gradually faded into the distance.

Zhu Miaojie slowly shut the courtyard gate, his expression cooling inch by inch into something distant and chill.

“Come out,” he said flatly.

The snow began to fall a little heavier, and the space around them rippled faintly. Gradually, a red fox materialized in the snow—the size of a grown man.

But the creature was grotesque: a human face atop a fox’s body, its features those of a bewitchingly beautiful woman, lending it an air of profound wrongness.

It padded slowly toward Zhu Miaojie, its crimson eyes roving over him appraisingly for a long moment before it parted its lips and spoke in the tongue of men.

“Zhu Miaojie, have you still not made up your mind? You bear the Zhu Jiuyin bloodline. Fuse with it, and your cultivation will soar by leaps and bounds. Your Calamity Body will be thoroughly concealed… That human sniffing after your husband? He’d be nothing more than an ant for you to crush.”

The fox’s voice was bizarre—layers of soft, seductive human tones interwoven with the creature’s shrill yips, eerie and decadent all at once.

Zhu Miaojie listened in calm silence for a long while before replying softly, “There’s no need for more words. I am human.”

The fox demon grew agitated at that, pacing in place as its sharp teeth ground together. “Why won’t you listen? Isn’t it all for that husband of yours? But have you considered what he’s done to you!

“He’s ruthless, that one—slapped a Life-Sealing Appearance Lock right on you! Every demon clan member knows how insidious those things are. Any demon who wears one has their lifeblood slowly drained away. That’s how the last descendant of Zhu Jiuyin met their end. You think it’s suppressing your Calamity Body? No—it’s devouring your life force and soul. In the end, you won’t even qualify for reincarnation!

“He treats you with such callous cruelty, yet you cling to him like a fool in love? If you truly care for him, what does it matter? Gain power, and you can chain him to your side forever…

“There’s no need for more words from you.” Zhu Miaojie enunciated each syllable with deliberate slowness. “They’ve already seen what you look like. If you don’t leave now, there’s only death waiting for you.”

The Fox Demon froze in place before letting out a sudden sigh. “The Demon Clan has fallen into ruin these days. Most of us have been sealed away in the places guarded by the Primordial Sect. If you could lead us wretched demon entities who are barely clinging to life, at least we might hang on a little longer…”

“I can’t do it,” it continued. “Several little demons are waiting for me to bring back food so they can survive the winter. I wouldn’t dare risk killing for supplies. If my demon power got exposed, those sharp-nosed cultivators would never let us off the hook.”

As it spoke, the Fox Demon’s red eyes gradually filled with vicious hatred. “The Three Realms were originally meant for humans, demons, and ghosts to coexist. So why have we, the Demon Clan, been hounded like this? Zhu Miaojie, don’t you feel the injustice of it all?”

Zhu Miaojie fell silent, his knuckles twitching slightly as though he were calculating when his lover would return.

Failing to sway him despite its efforts, the Fox Demon’s face turned icy cold. It suddenly burst into mocking laughter. “Do you really think your husband loves you that much? He’s a Primordial Sect disciple. That sect rose to prominence by slaying demons—their founding precept is the extermination of our kind!”

“He might love you now, but the affections of a young man are the least trustworthy thing there is.”

“Guess what he’ll do if he finds out you’re a demon?”

The Fox Demon ground its teeth with grim malice. “He’ll skin you alive and rip the bones from your body, ensuring you’ll never rise again in this lifetime.”