Chapter 1: Demon Lord Husband

Qingcang Mountain was once again blanketed in snow, its peak turning pure white in an instant.

Changhuan hurried over with a cloak, draping it over  Liu Shuang ‘s shoulders and chiding, “Your Highness, why are you waiting for the Demon Lord again? Your health is delicate, and the Demon Lord has instructed you not to always wait for him here.”

Snowflakes settled on  Liu Shuang ‘s hair as she extended her hand, watching the snow melt in her palm. She couldn’t help but smile, joyfully saying to Changhuan, “Do you know that December is also the coldest season in the mortal world?”

Changhuan shook her head with a smile. As a ghost cultivator, she had naturally never been to the mortal world, but from the way Her Highness spoke of it, it seemed like a beautiful place, stirring a longing within her.

 Liu Shuang ‘s delicate face was accentuated by the harsh cold, her once vibrant lips now pale. Yet, her eyes sparkled brightly, for this month, her husband, Yan Chaosheng, who had been battling the immortal clans across the lands, would return.

She took Changhuan’s hand, asking, “Does my dress look good? What about my hair, is it messy?”

Changhuan replied, “Your Highness, you are a vision of grace. Everything is perfect. When the Demon Lord sees you, he surely won’t want to leave again.”

 Liu Shuang  smiled, her large eyes curving into crescents.

Changhuan was also happy for her. In Changhuan’s eyes, the Demon Lord was a fierce warrior, and since his marriage to Her Highness, they had spent little time together, always busy. Sometimes, it would be years before he returned to Qingcang Mountain to be with Her Highness, only to leave again after a few days.

Now that the world was gradually stabilizing, with peace treaties being signed, the Demon Lord no longer needed to constantly roam the lands. The chaotic battles between immortals, demons, ghosts, and fiends had ended, and the world was at peace.

Without those pressing matters, the Demon Lord could stay with Her Highness, and they could focus on having a little prince.

Seeing  Liu Shuang  rubbing her hands from the cold, Changhuan urged, “Your Highness, let’s return to the palace to wait.”

 Liu Shuang  shook her head with a smile. Her cultivation was not high, and her origins were humble, so there was little she could do for Yan Chaosheng. Among the few things she could do, she put her heart into each one, handling them personally.

A century ago, she remembered standing on Qingcang Mountain waiting for him. At that time, he rode his crimson falcon back, and upon seeing her waving from Qingcang Mountain, a smile appeared in his eyes, and he slightly curved his lips for the first time.

 Liu Shuang  blinked her eyes, overjoyed. Although they were Dao companions, she rarely saw him smile.

He was the Demon Lord and also the Ghost Lord, a lofty ruler of two realms, often stern and unsmiling, which made her timid. That time, she felt his joy, and since then, whenever he returned from battle, she always waited at Qingcang Mountain, the entrance to the ghost realm, so he could see her first upon coming home.

The years of waiting were long. Occasionally, he would send word on the first day of the month that he would return, but when the battles were intense, it would be the fifteenth before she saw his figure, always returning with the scent of blood.

Thus,  Liu Shuang  cherished every moment they spent together.

She didn’t find waiting in the harsh cold of Qingcang Mountain particularly agonizing. In fact, the ghost realm behind her was more uncomfortable for her. Her true form was a small blue immortal grass from the Canglan lake in the mortal world. Although her spiritual power was weak, she was still an immortal. Living in the oppressive ghost realm as an immortal was unbearable, but thanks to Yan Chaosheng’s profound cultivation, the occasional dual cultivation with him provided her with enough spiritual power to clumsily progress in her cultivation. Otherwise, she would have never survived.

Although the ghost realm wasn’t as cold as the entrance of Qingcang Mountain, the faint chilling ghostly aura made her uncomfortable all over, unwilling to step out of the palace.

Yan Chaosheng had once suggested she return to the warm demon realm to live, but she refused.

He was fighting for the turbulent ghost realm, and if she went back to the demon realm, she wouldn’t be able to see him. For her, nothing brought her more joy than seeing him and nestling in his arms.

Changhuan waited with her until late at night, seeing that the sky over Qingcang Mountain had darkened, and immediately said, “Your Highness, let’s go back first. The Demon Lord might not return until tomorrow. Seeing you like this would break his heart.”

 Liu Shuang  nodded, deciding to come back tomorrow. In any case, he would return within these few days.

 Liu Shuang  formed a seal, and a giant green bird flew over from the horizon.

The bird’s feathers were beautiful, shimmering with light, and it landed gently before  Liu Shuang .

She stroked its neck, “Let’s go home, Qingluan.”

Qingluan carefully carried her, flapping its wings and soaring into the sky, leaving a trail of light across the blood-red sky of the ghost realm.

 Liu Shuang ‘s Qingluan and Yan Chaosheng’s crimson falcon were originally a pair of ancient demon birds. He had obtained them by chance in his youth, and they had been with him for over seven hundred years, deeply in love.

After marrying him, she had pestered Yan Chaosheng for one of them, and after half a year, he finally gave Qingluan to her as a mount.

It took her decades to tame this demon bird, clumsily learning to groom its feathers and find ways to please Qingluan, who eventually willingly protected her and obeyed her commands.

Qingluan could travel tens of thousands of miles in a day, so it didn’t take long to reach Qingcang Mountain.

The palace of the ghost realm was solemn and eerie, with dozens of pale-faced ghost cultivator generals guarding the gates.

 Liu Shuang  glanced at the thick, blood-like air above and took a deep breath. She gripped Qingluan’s feathers tightly, unwilling to reveal her innate fear of this place.

Her husband was the only demon ghost in the world, a demon who cultivated the ghost path, and the ghost realm was the most comfortable place for him.

Even though she didn’t like this place, she didn’t want to compromise his cultivation for her own minor preferences.

“Your Highness, be careful,” Changhuan extended her hand, helping  Liu Shuang  dismount from the bird.

Qingluan sensed something and let out a soft cry towards the palace, showing slight restlessness. Soon, a clear bird call echoed from within the palace, and a fiery red falcon flew out from the ghost realm, entwining with Qingluan and grooming each other’s feathers.

Changhuan exclaimed in delight, “Your Highness, the Demon Lord has returned!”

The presence of the crimson falcon meant Yan Chaosheng was already in the palace of the ghost realm. A smile spread across  Liu Shuang ‘s cheeks as she lifted her skirt and ran towards the palace.

Changhuan chased after her, “Your Highness, slow down.”

 Liu Shuang  wore a crimson gauze dress embroidered with large blooming begonias. As she ran through the palace courtyard, the begonias shimmered, blooming layer upon layer.

Even the lifeless ghost cultivators couldn’t help but glance at her, bowing and saying, “Your Highness.”

She pushed open the door to her palace but didn’t see Yan Chaosheng inside.

 Liu Shuang  tilted her head, asking a small ghost attendant, “Where is the Demon Lord?”

The attendant replied, “The Demon Lord returned injured and is now in the Ruthless Hall.”

“He’s injured! How serious is it?”

“This humble servant does not know.”

 Liu Shuang , filled with worry, entered her bedchamber. She was extremely anxious but dared not step into the Ruthless Hall. There was a cold pool in the Ruthless Hall, its chill enough to freeze her mortal body, but it was an excellent place for Yan Chaosheng to heal.

He had strictly forbidden her from setting foot there.

 Liu Shuang  sat dazedly on the swing in the courtyard, surrounded by a few ghost butterflies. She waved them away, “Go play by yourselves. My husband has returned, and he’s injured. I’m worried about him.”

The ghost butterflies, upon hearing that Yan Chaosheng had returned, immediately scattered. The courtyard was filled with blooming flowers, a stark contrast to the gloomy ghost realm outside.

Originally, the ghost realm was barren, devoid of life, and naturally wouldn’t grow such vibrant things. After  Liu Shuang  moved in, her own gentle immortal aura and her boredom led her to ask Yan Chaosheng’s subordinates for seeds, using her spiritual power to nurture them, attempting to grow plants in the courtyard.

Unexpectedly, she succeeded, and gradually, amidst the cold and oppressive ghost realm, only her and Yan Chaosheng’s palace were filled with blooming flowers and lush grass.

Even the colorful butterflies loved to sneak here when Yan Chaosheng was away.

But when he was present, his overwhelming aura kept these small creatures at bay. He had once crushed a ghost butterfly that didn’t fly away fast enough in front of her.

The wooden corridor twisted and turned, adorned with crystal lanterns.

As the blood-like sky darkened, Yan Chaosheng still hadn’t returned. Changhuan said, “The Demon Lord is healing. Your Highness, you should rest first.”

 Liu Shuang  nodded and had to enter the room.

Changhuan helped her let down her hair, removed her makeup, and carefully applied fragrant ointment.  Liu Shuang  nestled into the warm blankets, but her heart was still with Yan Chaosheng in the Ruthless Hall.

How was he? Was his injury severe? Was he in pain?

As the night wore on, she tossed and turned, unable to sleep, her eyes wide open. Only when the ghost crows flew by, their harsh cawing echoing, did she notice someone standing by her bed.

He seemed unsurprised, “Still awake?”

His voice was cold, but it made  Liu Shuang ‘s eyes light up. She crawled out from under the blankets. Yan Chaosheng paused for a moment, then with a flick of his finger, the soft glow of South Sea night pearls illuminated the room.

 Liu Shuang  finally saw him.

Her husband, the ruler of the demon and ghost realms, Yan Chaosheng.

He wore a black robe with golden trim, exceptionally handsome, with thin lips, long brows, and dark eyes, looking down at her.

 Liu Shuang  reached out to him, and he glanced at her, offering his hand.

His long, cold hand felt like jade, as cold as his body temperature, chilling her to the bone. She shivered but tucked his hand into her chest, warming it, and looked at him with her large eyes, “Husband, is your injury severe?”

Under the light, her face was rosy, her eyes sparkling like spring water, her lips now a delicate red. She forgot that his body, flowing with the blood of a demon snake, couldn’t be warmed by her.

His expression remained unchanged, but a hint of softness flickered in his eyes, “It’s nothing.”

 Liu Shuang  didn’t question why he had returned this time without passing through Qingcang Mountain, making her wait in vain, but instead used a formation to return to the Ruthless Hall silently.

She was concerned about his injury and reached to undo his belt, “Let me see.”

Yan Chaosheng stopped her hand, “Don’t be reckless.”

When he forbade someone from doing something, he often unconsciously released his oppressive aura.  Liu Shuang ‘s true form feared him, and a sense of timidity rose within her, but her concern for him still prevailed.

She endured the pressure on her heart and persisted, “Husband, let me see, or I won’t be at ease.”

Finally, his robe was removed.

Yan Chaosheng, as a ghost cultivator, had a complexion paler than most, with a gloomy pallor. Yet, his body was beautifully sculpted, long and elegant, a sight to behold.

She saw his shoulder, where black blood oozed from a deep wound, almost to the bone.  Liu Shuang ‘s heart ached. In the world, he had few rivals. Who could have injured him so severely?

She placed her hand over the wound, trying to use her continuous spiritual power to heal him. He grabbed her hand, closing his robe, “Don’t you know your own limits? You don’t need to heal me. Go to sleep.”

Her true form, a small immortal grass, was best at healing, the only immortal art she had mastered. Though she had lived in the ghost realm for years, she never neglected it, fearing the day Yan Chaosheng would return injured and she could do nothing for him.

Now, with her wrist held by him, he didn’t need much strength to gently push her into the cloud-like quilt, rendering her immobile.

He leaned over her, his expression indifferent, looking down at her.

This was the ruler of the ghost path, whose gaze often made others retreat, trembling. But  Liu Shuang  in the cloud quilt didn’t feel that way.

In Yan Chaosheng’s eyes, she saw her own reflection.

Cloud-like hair, flower-like beauty, eyes like spring water.

The crystal lanterns were bright and beautiful, casting light on her, clad only in a delicate, soft garment, her chest full, her waist slender.

 Liu Shuang  met his gaze, her cheeks involuntarily reddening, “Husband?”

Her toes curled nervously. Although they hadn’t made love many times, each encounter left her both terrified and blushing.

His ghost cultivator body was cold, and even though her true form was a naturally gentle immortal grass, she couldn’t withstand it well. But in  Liu Shuang ‘s eyes, even his coldness was perfect, everything about him bringing her joy.

Seeing he didn’t object, she overcame her shyness, made space beside her, and hugged his neck, “Husband, come up and rest.”

He was injured, so of course, she didn’t intend to do anything with him, just wanted to nestle in his arms and whisper sweet nothings.

He stared at her flower-like beauty for a long moment, his eyes darkening, then silently removed her soft hands from his body.

“No need, I won’t rest here today.”

 Liu Shuang  blinked in confusion. The ghost crows’ cries indicated it was past midnight. Since he had come out of the Ruthless Hall, he wouldn’t return there.

So late, if he wasn’t going to hold her and sleep, why had he come back, and where was he going?

“Is the Mingxi Pearl still here? Lend it to me.”

Hearing this, she immediately got out of bed, picking up the jade horse for storing items. The horse was a gift from Yan Chaosheng on her birthday two years ago, created with his magic. She adored it.

Seeing her joy, he had put more effort into it, turning it into a spiritual tool for storage.

“It’s all here, husband,” she tapped the jade horse with her slender, fair fingers, and inside were all the things he had given her over the years.

A pile of items, dazzling and overwhelming.

She sat cross-legged, obediently taking out the Mingxi Pearl for him. Most items in the jade horse were gifts from Yan Chaosheng, but the Mingxi Pearl was different, a gift from an old friend, capable of warding off tribulation lightning and calming the seven souls.

She looked at him curiously, “Husband, is someone going through a tribulation?”

Yan Chaosheng took the pearl, which still carried her unique warmth, comfortably resting in his palm. He glanced down, inadvertently meeting her innocent, affectionate gaze, and said indifferently, “No, stay here and don’t wander. I’ll come to accompany you when I have time.”

 Liu Shuang  nodded.

He paused, “The Mingxi Pearl… I’ll return it after use.”

 Liu Shuang  said, “It’s fine. My tribulation is still some time away. Without the Mingxi Pearl, I have you, husband. You promised to be with me during my tribulation. With you, the heavenly lightning won’t harm me.” Her tribulation was a catastrophe for her, but for Yan Chaosheng, a wave of his hand could disperse it.

Yan Chaosheng didn’t comment.

“Be good, I’m leaving.”

Even though he knew saying this to her was redundant, she was always good. When he was around, she was obedient and clingy, saying all sorts of shameless things. When he wasn’t, she was still good, rarely leaving the palace, often tending to her flowers and plants in the courtyard, almost never stepping out.

Seeing him about to step out, the hem of his robe embroidered with a golden taotie lifted by the wind, a surge of reluctance filled her heart. She hadn’t seen him in two months.

Barefoot, she chased after him, hugging his waist.

Yan Chaosheng didn’t turn back, “What is it?”

She stood on her tiptoes, kissing his cold cheek, and said softly, “Husband, I just wanted to tell you, I missed you.”

His black lashes cast a shadow on his face, his posture straight and unbending, “Hmm, go back.”

Yan Chaosheng walked out of the corridor she had meticulously decorated, the crystal lanterns swaying gently.

These strange items were all things she had begged him to collect from the eight realms. Yan Chaosheng took out the Mingxi Pearl from his robe, frowning. Even he didn’t know when he had given her so many things.

He touched his cheek, where she had gently kissed him, the lingering warmth contrasting with his cold skin.

Yan Chaosheng’s eyes showed no emotion as he walked out of the corridor. The lingering ghost crows scattered, respectfully making way for their lord. He didn’t linger, not once looking back at her.