The life of the Demon Lord was always so dull and tedious.
On the third day, he practiced his skills, by night.
The Parasol Tree Courtyard.
Looking at the consort's pale face, who had already been lying in bed for a day, the little maid's face was filled with worry.
"Consort, can we please not provoke that demon anymore?"
"No, we must persist. The demon has tasted the marrow and relaxed his guard. How can we give up halfway?"
"But your body…"
"It doesn't matter, he is just a mere demon."
Knocking on the door sounded,
The little maid scurried under the bed, and the consort staggered out.
Opened the door.
The two of them faced each other, smiling at one another.
"You're here?"
"Yeah."
"Come in?"
"Okay."
"Turn off the light?"
"Yes!"
Their silhouettes overlapped.
Fang Yang consumed a bottle of elixir, the consort tightly clutched her hairpin.
Their movements were still familiar, in tacit agreement.
He came at the time of Zi, returned at the hour of Mao!
Fang Yang left three bowls of ginseng porridge, the consort disdained...
Demanded six bowls.
...
On the fourth day, he practiced his skills, by night.
"Consort, you really can't keep doing this, your complexion is too pale."
"It's okay, I can endure. Today, I've painfully learned the fourth page. Everything is already familiar in my heart. That demon will surely die today."
Knocking on the door sounded.
The little maid scurried under the bed, and the consort went out, leaning on the wall.
Opened the door.
The two of them faced each other, both as white as sheets.
"Come?"
"Yeah."
"In?"
"Yeah."
"Turn off."
"Yeah."
Their silhouettes overlapped.
Fang Yang consumed two bottles of elixir, the consort tightly clutched her hairpin.
No opportunity to assassinate.
Movements: practiced.
He came at the time of Zi, returned at the hour of Mao!
Fang Yang left six bowls of ginseng porridge.
...
On the fifth day, he practiced his skills, by night.
"Consort, I'm begging you, that Demon Lord is too cruel. You really can't continue to abuse yourself like this."
"No... it's fine. I can still hold on for a while. Perhaps today will be the death of that demon."
Knocking on the door sounded.
The little maid scurried under the bed, and the consort came out holding a cane.
Opened the door.
The two of them faced each other, both listless in the eyes.
"Turn off?"
"Yeah."
Their silhouettes overlapped.
Fang Yang consumed three bottles of elixir, the consort tightly clutched her hairpin.
Still no chance to assassinate.
Movements: practiced.
He came at the time of Zi, returned at the hour of Mao!
Fang Yang left six bowls of ginseng porridge, and as per the consort's request, added dates.
...
On the sixth day, he practiced his skills, by night.
"Consort, are you going to continue tonight?"
"I should… I should, that demon deserves to die. I… I'll hold on for a while longer."
Knocking on the door sounded,
The little maid scurried under the bed, and the consort came out holding a cane.
Opened the door.
The two of them faced each other, their legs trembling.
"…"
Without another word, they silently walked into the room,
Their silhouettes overlapped.
Fang Yang consumed four bottles of elixir, the consort tightly clutched her hairpin.
Still no chance to assassinate.
Movements: practiced.
He came at the time of Zi, returned at the hour of Mao!
Fang Yang left bird's nest porridge, the consort displeased, replaced it with ginseng porridge.
...
On the seventh day, he practiced his skills, by night.
"…"
Looking at the silent maid, the consort could not help but ask.
"Ling'er, why don't you dissuade me anymore?"
The little maid bit her lip tightly, hesitated for a moment, and then spoke.
"I suspect the consort is deliberately wanting to be bullied."
"Nonsense, I am clearly doing this for revenge, to ensure that demon has no grave to lay his rest."
The princess's expression was solemn, her words righteous, but for some reason her demeanor appeared somewhat guilty.
There was no help for it; assassination attempts were made, but not once were they successful, nor did the chance ever even arise.
And yet, she persisted in learning from the manuals of the siren, growing more and more adept, more and more bewitching.
It's doubtful anyone would believe it if told.
"Then does the princess not continue tonight?"
The maid's eyes lit up.
"Cont... Continue."
Knocking sounded.
The little maid hid under the bed and the princess... did not come out.
She no longer had the energy to go out.
Fang Yang leapt over the wall and entered,
When they met again, the bed had already been made.
Their silhouettes overlapped.
Fang Yang swapped a bottle of magical medicine, the princess clutched her hairpin tightly.
Still no opportunity for assassination.
Action: familiar.
The hour of zi came, and the hour of mao saw his return!
Fang Yang left behind six bowls of bird's nest soup.
...
The eighth day, training, night.
"....."
Watching the maid who had just finished cleaning the room and felt that it was about the right time, she crawled under the bed out of habit.
The princess had no strength to retaliate.
She just bit her lip and lay still on the bed.
The knocking began, already sounding much weaker than the past two days.
The princess clutched the hairpin, willing to kill the thief, yet powerless to return to heaven.
In the end, she could only let out a deep, long sigh.
"Ling'er, go tell that demon lord, just say I've caught a chill today and tell him to go back."
"Ah?"
A head suddenly peeked out from under the bed, the maid was full of surprise, and in the end, she nodded her head.
She quickly stepped out of the courtyard.
Outside the courtyard, the summer breeze was gentle, and Fang Yang stood leaning against the door, appearing very weak.
At that moment...
Creak, the door opened.
A young maid with her hair in buns and wearing a bright yellow dress poked her head out from inside.
Her almond-shaped eyes were bright as she watched him with vigilance, the fear evident on her naive face—a clear indication of how much she feared him, the notorious Demon Lord.
"Demon... Demon Lord, my princess is sick today. You can't bully him anymore. You should return as soon as possible."
"Sick?"
Fang Yang's eyes lit up, overwhelmed with excitement, this being the first piece of good news he had heard in some time.
It was like a long-suffering daughter-in-law finally becoming the mistress of the house.
It was too hard!
The body of the Demon Lord, tempered numerous times, was resistant to myriad diseases and immune to evil spirits, as tough as iron.
And the medicine from Chunqing Hall was also quite impressive.
But no matter how impressive, it could not endure this endless harassment.
These past few days, he practiced during the day and also at night.
He nearly went mad from over-exertion, just like his predecessor.
But there was no alternative, the eldest disciple was still on the mountain, and the demonic sect still had many enemies watching closely.
He could not show any sign of weakness.
Besides, he did it for the sake of drawing affinity, for the grand event three months later.
He could barely maintain the habit of daily entries without interruption.
But every time, for four hours,
It was truly inhuman.
He had long wanted to rest for a day,
Fortunately, the princess was now ill, otherwise he wouldn't have decided on this so easily.
"I understand!"
"You let the princess rest well. Tomorrow, I will send someone with medicinal ingredients and some nourishing gifts."
"For her health, let her rest for a while longer."
With that, Fang Yang walked away.
And the maid watched his tall figure, murmuring softly,
"This... is this the Demon Lord?"
"Why is the Demon Lord different from what I imagined?"
She stood there stunned, wracking her brain, but after a long while, she still couldn't figure out what was going on.
In the end, she could only knock on her head and quickly went back inside to take extra care of the princess.
...
Within the Demon Lord's pavilion!
Fang Yang returned panting, his expression weary and exhausted.
Thinking back to the maid he had just seen, he was puzzled.
Indeed, the Demon Lord's diary had records of this maid. When the Demon Lord had taken the Princess of Zhen Nan captive, there were two women and one cat; these details he had been well aware of.
But...
During all those nights at the courtyard, he had not seen any trace of the maid.
He had thought she had descended the mountain early, or perhaps had met with an untimely demise.
He did not expect to run into her that very night.
Then came the question, where had the little maid been before this, and why had he never seen her?
Could it be that she had the ability to turn invisible?
Fang Yang mulled over it for a long time but came up with nothing. Finally, he simply shook his head and stopped thinking so much about it.
He simply started to practice again.
Night enveloped everything, and the chirping of cicadas outside was particularly noisy.
The back mountain also became tranquil and elegant.
The hot spring water was still rippling, and a thin mist floated above it.
Only three figures were missing.
They were the Princess of Zhen Nan, the white snow lion cat, and Ye Qinghong…