Chapter 5 

Zu Long and Yuan Feng had dealt with each other for so many years that he could easily tell whether the other was lying or telling the truth. The earlier explanation might fool a little fox cub, but it wasn’t enough to deceive him or Shi Qilin.

The three great figures exchanged silent glances, quickly reaching a consensus. Senior Shan Ji was pulled aside by Senior She She for questioning, leaving Senior Lu Lu to watch over the child at the cave entrance.

Senior Lu Lu: “…”

Fine, then.

Fu Li watched as the two vanished in the blink of an eye, his eyes sparkling with envy. “Senior, I want to learn that.”

Being a demon meant embracing the demonic image—ferocious fangs, riding the clouds and driving the fog, soaring through the skies on dragons, mastering ever-changing transformations, and fulfilling every fantasy future children might have about demons.

Once you’re a demon, why bother sticking to scientific laws? The flashier, the better.

If he couldn’t learn the somersault cloud like the Monkey King, mastering Senior She She and Senior Shan Ji’s “whoosh-like-a-beam-of-light” technique would do. His standards weren’t high—as long as the coach, er, senior, was willing to teach, he’d learn anything.

Shi Qilin sat down beside him, a hint of confusion in his voice. “Haven’t you learned any of this before?”

No matter how young the little one was, a two-hundred-year-old cub should have at least been taught basic self-defense by his elders. The Old Fox King had only failed his tribulation a few days ago—had he not taught Fu Li anything before that?

When he, Zu Long, and Yuan Feng first arrived at Thunderclap Mountain, they’d found it strange. The place was rich in spiritual energy, a rare paradise. The fact that the Ten Thousand Year Fox King had claimed this mountain and amassed such wealth proved he was a capable demon.

If the Old Fox King had both cultivation and skill, why hadn’t he properly taught his children?

With little Fu Li, one could argue the Old Fox King doted on him too much, unwilling to let him suffer through cultivation, planning to teach him later. Though flimsy, it wasn’t entirely implausible—their own clans had indulgent parents too.

But Fu Li’s sister was nearly a thousand years old. At that age, she should have mastered the necessary spells and undergone proper training, even by the standards of their era ruling the Prehistoric Continent.

Foxes were among the beasts under the Qilin’s rule, and Shi Qilin believed he understood nine-tailed fox cubs better than Zu Long or Yuan Feng. Though foxes were among the weaker beasts in combat, they shouldn’t be as weak as these siblings.

Shi Qilin couldn’t make sense of it. Back then, they were newcomers and unfamiliar with the current state of the demon world, so they’d set the question aside.

But it wasn’t too late to ask now.

Choosing his words carefully, Shi Qilin tried to sound diplomatic. “Cultivation shouldn’t be rushed, but it also shouldn’t be neglected forever. Only the strong survive—otherwise, you end up like this, where any random demon can come pick a fight.”

“Sigh, tell me about it.” Fu Li flicked his ears, unsure how to explain. “My sister never liked cultivation. She thought Father would handle everything, and as long as she stayed on Thunderclap Mountain, no demon would dare disrespect her. Father spoiled her and figured he’d always be there to protect her, so he never forced her to train.”

But after Fu Li was born, things changed. Their father must have realized weak cultivation was unacceptable and started pushing both siblings to absorb spiritual energy.

His sister had been pampered since childhood, so the sudden shift from a free-range upbringing to a cramming-style education was naturally unbearable for her. Eight out of ten days, she was scheming ways to skip class, and the remaining two days were only when she couldn’t escape and had no choice but to obediently comply.

But judging by his sister’s current abilities, it was clear that two hundred years of cramming-style education had little effect. She remained just as weak as ever, inheriting none of their father’s majesty.

As for himself, when he first transmigrated here, he was in a daze, thinking he had landed in an animal world. He was too busy lamenting his lost life to pay attention to what his fox father was saying. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have only realized this wasn’t an animal world when his fox father transformed into human form right before his eyes.

Being an animal was one mindset; being a demon was another.

His mentality was excellent. Once he accepted becoming a fox spirit, he resolved to become a terrifying demon capable of making children cry. So whenever his sister tried to coax him into skipping class to go play, he never went along. His enthusiasm for cultivation rivaled that of aunties rushing to supermarket discount sections.

Alas, the path of cultivation was truly elusive. Judging by his current abilities, the results of his hard work were, well, just so-so.

Cultivation required talent, and unfortunately, neither he nor his sister had any.

Shi Qilin frowned imperceptibly. The Jade Faced Princess was indeed mediocre in aptitude, but this little one was surrounded by spiritual energy—clearly gifted at a glance. Why hadn’t the Old Fox King taught him properly?

Strange. Very strange.

Shi Qilin glanced at the little fox cub, who was resting his chin in his hands with a troubled expression, and set aside his doubts. His voice remained as gentle as ever, “It’s alright. You’re still young. Cultivation isn’t something to rush. Take your time and learn more. Who knows when you’ll find the method that suits you best?”

“Great minds think alike—I feel the same way!” The little fox cub proudly lifted his chin, his sparkling eyes brimming with the fearless confidence unique to youth. “As the saying goes, ‘All trades have their masters.’ With so many cultivation methods out there, one of them is bound to suit this young master!”

After all, he was an anomaly even absent from the original *Journey to the West*. As an anomaly, he ought to have the awareness of being one—wasn’t he allowed to be a late bloomer?

“That’s an interesting way to put it.” Shi Qilin’s eyes crinkled with deeper amusement as he watched the little cub stand up, punching the air with spirited vigor. Truly, a cub was still a cub—carefree and untroubled, or at least quick to shake off worries.

Fu Li hopped down from the rock and crouched on the ground, trying to recall if the imperial examination system existed in this era. Then he remembered this wasn’t proper history but the mythological world of *Journey to the West*, so he shrugged off the uncertainty.

No matter. Senior Lu Lu was from the Northern Kuru Continent, and the demons there were all uncultured. Even if there was a mistake, he wouldn’t notice it—hahaha!

The little fox cub amused himself, shaking his head and clapping his hands before pestering Shi Qilin again. “Senior, senior, can the demon cubs of the Northern Kuru Continent take human form by two hundred years old?”

His father had said that taking human form was a matter of fate. Many demons, even if they could assume human form, preferred to keep their original heads. Human limbs were convenient, but human heads weren’t as handsome—their original forms were far more majestic and imposing.

Not being able to retract his ears and tail wasn’t a big deal. It was common for demons to retain some animal features like claws or tails during transformation. As long as he didn’t admit it, no one would know whether he couldn’t retract them or was deliberately showing them off.

Though his father’s reasoning made sense, he still felt it wasn’t quite right.

Choosing not to retract them when he could was a display of skill, but pretending he meant to show them when he actually couldn’t was just incompetence. There was a world of difference between the two.

On the battlefield of aesthetics, he absolutely couldn’t afford to lose. How could a future great demon like him, who stood tall between heaven and earth, go around every day sporting a pair of fox ears?

No way. Absolutely not.

Meanwhile, Shi Qilin found himself cornered by the Little Fox Cub, forced to listen to his lengthy analysis on whether keeping one’s original animal head during transformation looked more impressive or not.

On the other side, Zu Long and Yuan Feng had already skipped the arguing phase and gone straight to physical combat.

Deep bonds meant settling things with fists first—words could wait until after the fight.

The two former overlords of the Prehistoric Era, who had lived for countless years, wrestled like three-year-olds. Only after thoroughly enjoying themselves did they pause to discuss serious matters. “Don’t tell me that thunder earlier was just some passing Thunder God. At least use your brain before trying to fool me.”

“Seeing is believing. If you don’t trust me, go ask him yourself,” Yuan Feng retorted with a glance, then suddenly seemed to remember something and shook his head regretfully. “Ah, I forgot to mention—that Thunder God was just passing through and had urgent business to attend to. He’s probably long gone by now.”

Zu Long’s expression turned indescribable. “The Little Fox Cub can’t hear us. Stop dawdling and get to the point.”

Yuan Feng sighed and pointed casually at the sky. “I wasn’t entirely lying. It was indeed a Thunder God from the Nine Heavens Responding Origin Palace. But when I went up there earlier, I ran into their boss—the Thunder Ancestor Wen Zhong that little cub mentioned.”

“A disciple of the Interception Sect? Tongtian of Shangqing?” Zu Long sat up in surprise. Recalling Tongtian’s temperament from memory, he actually found this turn of events rather fitting. “Wasn’t Tongtian confined to house arrest by that one?”

“Who knows what he’s scheming now,” Yuan Feng said with a shrug. Nothing was too outrageous when it came to Tongtian. “But it’s not necessarily a bad thing. That guy is fiercely protective of his own. If he’s taken an interest in our Little Fox Cub, at least we don’t have to worry about the naive little thing getting bullied.”

Tongtian of Shangqing had a well-known weakness for fluffy creatures. Rumor had it that the origin of the Investiture of the Gods calamity stemmed from him hoarding too many fluffy beings, finally provoking his rule-obsessed brother Yuqing to the breaking point. Their fraternal conflict escalated into outright hostility, allowing the Buddhists to swoop in and poach a large number of disciples—directly leading to the decline of the Daoist sects and the rise of Buddhism. None of the three brothers came out of it unscathed.

Tsk tsk tsk. What a pity.

But knowing Tongtian as they did, there was no way he’d obediently serve his confinement in the Purple Cloud Palace. No wonder he’d set his sights on their adorable Little Fox Cub.

So what if their little cub was so weak a single finger could knock him over? Being pretty was enough.

Jokes aside, they needed to carefully consider the situation.

After venting about Tongtian, Yuan Feng patted Zu Long’s shoulder with a grave expression. “No one can stop Tongtian when he’s set on something. The three of us are only spiritual remnants now. To be safe, we’d best avoid meddling in the affairs of the Daoist sects.”

It was true that they had grievances with the Buddhist sect, but this was no longer the Prehistoric Era where they reigned supreme. When it was time to lay low, they had to lay low, lest they end up losing even their souls.

The desire to stir up trouble was universal, but they weren’t in a hurry. They’d let the Daoist and Buddhist sects fight it out first, then make a grand entrance once both sides had had their fill. That would better showcase their aura as the overlords of the Prehistoric Era.

Mainly, when under someone else’s roof, one had to bow their head. They could cause trouble, but only after retrieving their bodies.

The Prehistoric Continent had fragmented during the Cataclysmic Tribulations, and the current Four Great Continents were entirely different from their time. Zu Long and Shi Qilin’s bodies were both in Kunlun Mountain—at least they knew where those were. He had fallen at the Fallen Phoenix Slope back then, but now he couldn’t even locate where that slope was.

He knew his two children could protect his body—er, remains—but now both had been forcibly taken to the Western Paradise by the Buddhist sect. Their current situation was unclear, and until he understood the present circumstances, he had no intention of contacting those two unlucky souls.

Zu Long propped his chin on his hand, looking troubled. “Too many descendants, can’t decide whom to contact right now. Let’s just keep hiding.”

Yuan Feng: …

What an infuriating jerk!

The fiery phoenix had never learned the meaning of patience. When her temper flared, she held nothing back.

Zu Long dodged with lightning reflexes, yelping as he did so, “I was just stating facts—why get mad? Stop! Stop! The barrier’s gonna break!!!”

At the edge of the pine shade, atop a large boulder, Fu Li and Shi Qilin had shifted their conversation from the normal topic of how old a young demon needed to be to take human form to why Bull Demon King was so persistent in pursuing his sister. “Senior Lu Lu might not be familiar with the demons of the Western Continent. Don’t assume Bull Demon King is all-powerful just because he’s strong in magic. Truth is, he’s quite poor. Not every mountain is as prosperous as our Thunderclap Mountain.”

Not to boast, but among all the demon-inhabited mountains in the vicinity, he’d rarely seen anyone as well-off as those from Thunderclap Mountain. Bull Demon King and Princess Iron Fan lived on Emerald Cloud Mountain, but that was her territory, not his.

Using his sharp wits, he strongly suspected there was something fishy going on.

The old bull was dead set on marrying into their family. Could it be that he’d quarreled with his wife, been kicked out, and while wandering homeless, coincidentally heard about his father’s failed tribulation, hence rushing over in such a frenzy?

Hmm, not impossible.

Author’s Note:  

Old Bull (blustering): How dare you slander this bull’s honor?!