For the first time since transmigrating, Le Gui had engaged in a fight. Strictly speaking, her opponent wasn’t even human. Still, she couldn’t shake the guilty feeling.

After bolting out of Cangqiong Palace, she looked up at the sky, which had somehow cleared from overcast to sunny. It took her a moment to realize that Di Jiang had let her go. Her life was safe—for now.

Surviving death felt good, but it came with a crushing sense of uncertainty. With nowhere to go, she wandered aimlessly until she arrived at a pristine lake.

The water was crystal clear, reflecting the surrounding mountains and forests. A soft breeze carried the fresh scent of nature. There were no strange creatures lurking around, nor were there any stern-faced palace attendants keeping watch.

Le Gui sat down on the grassy shore, crossed her legs, and stared at her reflection in the water. She silently asked herself—did Di Jiang sparing her life mean that the incident at Bi’an Terrace was officially in the past?

The answer was yes.

But could she still leave the Demon Realm?

That seemed unlikely.

Judging by how things were unfolding, resigning from Wuyou Palace didn’t seem like an impossible task. However, now that the big boss himself had personally assigned her to Diyun Peak, who would dare allow her to leave? She was just a mere mortal. Running away was out of the question. Wuyou Palace had three thousand demonic mountains, and the Demon Realm beyond was vast and endless. Escaping was practically a death sentence.

She couldn’t leave, but she wasn’t dead either.

So… could she still go through with her plan of sleeping with Di Jiang to obtain access to Wuliangdu?

Di Jiang was alive. She was alive.

Both of them were still breathing, which meant the plan was still viable.

Now that she was stationed at Diyun Peak, she was even closer to her target. As long as she managed to sleep with Di Jiang and absorb his Yang essence, the restrictions of Cangqiong Palace would temporarily recognize her as its master. As long as she found Wuliangdu before the effect wore off, she could return home.

So, putting theory aside and looking at reality—could she really sleep with Di Jiang?

Le Gui propped her chin on her hand and carefully examined her reflection in the water.

Her features weren’t the strikingly gorgeous type. None of them were particularly delicate when viewed alone, but together, they formed a face that was pleasant and easy on the eyes. No matter how exaggerated her expressions were, her face never seemed out of place. Her eyes were especially bright and clear, giving her an innocent and well-behaved appearance.

A face like this was great for playing innocent when slacking off, but for seducing Di Jiang…

Le Gui thought about his overly beautiful face and silently flopped onto the grass, lying spread-eagle as she stared up at the demonic clouds overhead.

She had noticed it earlier—Diyun Peak’s weather didn’t quite match the rest of Wuyou Palace. For example, when she had arrived in the morning, Bi’an Terrace had been under clear blue skies, while Diyun Peak was shrouded in thick clouds. Now that it had finally cleared up, she couldn’t help but feel that a difference of over nineteen hundred demonic mountains shouldn’t have caused such a drastic contrast.

Most of the time, Le Gui was rather carefree. This carefree nature made her more optimistic than the average person. Even though she had just escaped death and her future was completely uncertain, looking at the distant mountains and drifting clouds while feeling the ticklish breeze against her fingertips, her mood lifted again.

[What’s the difference between moving from Bi’an Terrace to Diyun Peak and getting transferred from a branch office to the corporate headquarters? Reaching such a high position within a month of arriving at Wuyou Palace—maybe I really am destined for greatness!]

The so-called “chosen one” stretched lazily on the ground. Just as she was about to sit up, she suddenly locked eyes with a pair of large, round, cow-like eyes.

“Haa—!” Le Gui gasped sharply and was about to scream when the eyes immediately ducked into the water, trembling as they watched her from below. Its timid demeanor was so pitiful that it forcefully suppressed her scream.

After a long stare-off, Le Gui hesitantly asked, “Shui Ling?”

The creature in the water tilted its head slightly but continued staring at her.

Le Gui had never interacted with wild animals up close, but she had raised cats before. Thinking of that, she tentatively reached out her hand. The Shui Ling stared at her palm for a long time, seemingly assessing the danger level. Once it decided she wasn’t a threat, it leaned forward and bit down.

Le Gui: “?”

Le Gui: “……”

There was a brief silence before her stifled scream finally erupted.

A flock of demonic birds took off from the nearby trees in fright. The Shui Ling, having confirmed that Le Gui was weaker than itself, calmly climbed onto the shore and lay down in the grass, watching her cradle her hand and whimper.

It was just a set of teeth marks—not even painful. But after a whole day of being dragged around without control, Le Gui just wanted to whine for a bit to vent her frustrations. Once she was done, she quickly recovered and started observing the Shui Ling lounging nearby.

It had two long, curved horns on its head and was slightly larger than a typical antelope. Its fur was reddish-brown, but there were patches of white fur on its forehead and belly. Le Gui vaguely remembered it had a distinctive ring of fur around its backside, so she leaned in to take a look…

Three seconds later, staring at that ring of fur, her eyes went blank.

“Why does this look like… a thong?”

The “thong-wearing” Shui Ling glanced at her indifferently and continued chewing on the lush grass. However, since the grass were short, its mouth structure made eating them quite a struggle.

Le Gui stretched her arms and casually grabbed a handful of grass, offering it to the Shui Ling. The creature opened its mouth wide, attempting to bite down on both the grass and her hand. Noticing its intent, Le Gui swiftly raised her other hand and smacked its head.

Slap!

The Shui Ling was stunned.

The Shui Ling was shocked.

The Shui Ling never expected that, apart from Di Jiang, someone on Diyun Peak would dare to hit it.

“You started it. You brought this upon yourself,” Le Gui said expressionlessly.

She was only this bold because she knew that the Shui Ling was just an ordinary waterbuck, just like how she was just an ordinary human. Even if she smacked it on the head, it wouldn’t tattle, let alone seek revenge.

Sure enough, Shui Ling flared up for a moment… then just continued munching on the grass.

Le Gui rewarded it with a few pats before gathering a large bundle of grass to place in front of it. Shui Ling let out a satisfied snort and rolled onto its side, happily indulging in its feast.

Watching it, Le Gui sighed, “Living without worries must be nice.”

The Shui Ling spared her a glance.

“Enjoy your meal. I need to go take care of my onboarding process,” Le Gui said, stretching before heading off.

The Shui Ling remained on the ground, focused on eating without a care in the world.

Le Gui had said she was going to handle her onboarding, but she had no idea where to go or who to ask. As she wandered around Diyun Peak, she silently cursed Di Jiang for dumping her here without even arranging a place to stay. After walking for some time, she finally ran into a person.

The old man had graying hair and wore the uniform of a steward. Le Gui felt a bit more confident and immediately approached him.

“Hello, old man! May I ask you something?”

The old man stopped, his expression indifferent. “What is it?”

“It’s like this—I was assigned to serve at Diyun Peak today by His Lordship himself. I’d like to know where I should report in and register my name.” Le Gui adjusted her wording to fit the novel’s world better.

The old man gave her a strange look. “His Lordship sent you here?”

“That’s right!” Le Gui had no shame in borrowing Di Jiang’s name for credibility.

“Then go find His Lordship,” the old man said flatly.

Le Gui: “…Huh?”

“How should I know where you need to register? There’s no such registration system on Diyun Peak,” the old man grumbled, clearly growing impatient. Seeing that she wanted to ask more questions, he waved her off. “Get lost. I’m heading back to sleep and don’t have time for your nonsense.”

Le Gui: “……”

Unwilling to give up, she asked a few more people. Most of them either told her to get out of the way or acted like they had no clue what she was talking about.

“Then how did you all settle in when you first arrived?” she asked helplessly.

The person she asked looked at her sincerely and said, “It’s been too long. I forgot.”

Le Gui: “……”

After asking around for half the day without getting any useful information, Le Gui found herself in the midst of Diyun Peak’s silent and eerie night. The Demon Realm was always dangerous after dark, and though she wanted to find a place to stay, she had already searched the entire mountain without spotting a single house aside from Cangqiong Palace. She couldn’t possibly barge in there to sleep.

The night on Diyun Peak was unsettlingly quiet. There were no usual sounds of birds or insects—just the vast stretch of mountain forests, like an ocean of dry land, its waves rippling ominously under the wind’s touch.

Le Gui sat by the roadside, hugging her clothes tighter around herself. She was contemplating whether she should just rough it out here for the night when a strange rustling sound came from the forest. Instinctively, she looked up and saw a spider the size of a washbasin charging straight at her. Before she could even scream, a saber-toothed tiger with fangs half a foot long lunged out of nowhere and tore the spider in half. In the next instant, a shadowy blur flashed past, and the tiger disappeared without a trace, as if swallowed whole.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye. Le Gui’s vision darkened momentarily, and before she could react, the shadow turned to face her, its blood-red eyes locking onto her.

It was a wraith formed from miasma. Le Gui swallowed hard, then bolted without a second thought.

Rustling sounds filled the air as the grass and brambles were trampled in her frantic escape. The ominous presence behind her loomed closer. She ran with all her might, cursing inwardly.

[Damn it, damn it, damn it! Weren’t these freakish things supposed to be sealed inside the mountains? Why are they just roaming around Diyun Peak?!]

If this were an animated scene, Le Gui would already have long trails of tears streaming behind her. She was running out of stamina, and her pace slowed, while the wraith seemed to sense her weakness. It deliberately slowed down too, like a cat toying with a mouse, savoring the torment.

Under the moonlight, the dark figure loomed closer and closer. Just as despair crept into Le Gui’s heart, a faint glimmer caught the corner of her eye. Her eyes lit up, and she veered sharply in another direction. Sensing her movement, the wraith expanded tenfold, intending to swallow her whole. But before it could strike, Le Gui leaped forward and dove straight into the grass.

The wraith had never encountered prey that could escape its grasp at the last moment. It let out a screech of frustration. Le Gui, lying flat on the ground, watched its distorted form for a moment, then impulsively picked up a clump of dirt and hurled it at the creature.

The wraith howled in rage.

“What the hell are you yelling for, you bastard!” Le Gui scooped up another handful of dirt.

The wraith was fuming, but it knew it couldn’t do anything to her now. After a moment of unwilling rage, it finally vanished.

Le Gui let out a long breath of relief. When she turned her head, she found herself staring into a pair of wide, bovine-like eyes. The Shui Ling was standing nearby, chewing a mouthful of grass, its gaze filled with curiosity. Behind it, a vast lake shimmered under the moonlight.

“Shui Ling!” Le Gui clutched its head with tear-filled eyes. “Thank the heavens I remembered you’ve been able to live here safely for so many years. That means there must be enchantments and barriers keeping those things out. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have made it!”

Shui Ling didn’t understand a word she was saying and continued munching away.

After getting her emotions out, Le Gui flopped onto the ground, completely drained. One thought echoed in her mind.

[This is just the first day. How the hell am I supposed to survive this?!]

The Shui Ling, oblivious to her distress, happily chewed away at the remaining grass she had gathered for it earlier in the day.

“You know, the more I think about it, the more I feel bad for you,” Le Gui mused, stroking Shui Ling’s head. “You’ve lived for thousands of years, yet you don’t even have a name.”

‘Shui Ling’ was just the name of its species. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a personal name—like how she was human but wouldn’t name herself ‘Human.’

“Poor thing,” she sighed.

Just as she was about to express more sympathy, Shui Ling suddenly pranced toward the lake and precisely stomped on a raised stone with its hoof.

A faint glow flickered from the stone, and the space around it distorted briefly. In the next moment, four palace attendants materialized by the lakeside, their heads bowed as they placed four trays of fresh fruits on the ground.

“Venerable Shui Ling, please enjoy your meal,” the lead attendant said respectfully before disappearing with the others just as swiftly as they had appeared.

The Shui Ling arched its back in satisfaction, bit into an apple, then turned to glance at Le Gui with a smug look in its eyes.

Le Gui: “…”

It wasn’t pitiful at all. She was the pitiful one. Compared to it, she was the one living like an unwanted stray.