She Dominates the Immortal Realm with Her HP Bar-Chapter 97

◎Wu Manshuang: "Why call me 'darling'?" ◎

—In ancient times, there existed the Moonfall Tree, a being that surpassed even the Great Toon in longevity, with each spring and autumn spanning a hundred thousand years, its life stretching endlessly.

This was the legend Yan Yu had murmured to herself when naming Yan Luoyue.

Yan Luoyue had never imagined she would one day lay eyes on the Moonfall Tree.

Nor had she expected that this tree, sharing her name, would possess such a… striking presence.

Yes, striking—intensely so.

Even from such a vast distance, the verdant hues of the divine tree radiated an undeniable aura.

From where she stood, it resembled a telephone pole. If she retreated another thousand miles, the perspective of distance would shrink it into an elegant, straight chopstick.

Yet no ordinary chopstick could pierce the heavens as the Moonfall Tree did, standing tall and unyielding like the very pillar of the demon realm.

Yan Luoyue was certain the tree’s true form must be colossal—its trunk rivaling mountains, its sprawling canopy vast as the sea.

So grand, so magnificent, its mere existence seemed a miracle beyond mortal reach.

No wonder the Moonfall Tree was revered as divine.

After all, aside from the boundless heavens and earth, one could hardly fathom how such a being could be crafted.

Dazed for a few seconds, Yan Luoyue finally shook herself from her reverie and turned to Wu Manshuang beside her.

As she looked over, he too had just averted his gaze.

A deep nostalgia lingered in the young serpent’s expression.

If there was anything worth remembering from his frailest, earliest days in the demon realm, it was likely the Moonfall Tree’s eternal emerald beauty.

"Remember how I once taught you to navigate the demon realm?"

A faint smile touched Wu Manshuang’s lips. "In truth, besides judging direction by the swirling vortices in the sky, the Moonfall Tree at the realm’s heart also serves as a compass."

Gazing up at the pink-tinged sky, where massive violet-red vortices drifted lazily, Yan Luoyue suddenly grinned mischievously.

"Ah… I’m reminded of Jingxuan."

The little nun Shen Jingxuan, who could unleash a rapid, rhythmic flurry of golden demon-subduing punches.

Back then, Yan Luoyue, Shen Jingxuan, and Wu Manshuang had embarked on a peculiar adventure in a den designed to mimic the demon realm.

Wu Manshuang, catching her playful drift, chuckled. "You think Master Jingxuan would enjoy this place?"

"I think she’d love it," Yan Luoyue teased. "If she ever got lost here, she’d just need to turn and walk toward the Moonfall Tree."

For someone directionally challenged, the best guide was always a massive, unmistakable landmark.

Before entering the demon realm, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang had masked their auras.

Thus, even after lingering in one spot, no hordes of demons had descended upon them like starving ghosts scenting crispy pork.

Only a few weaker demons, noticing their unusual forms, had lunged—only to be swiftly dispatched by Wu Manshuang.

Yan Luoyue produced two cloaks, draping one over Wu Manshuang and the other over herself.

Once worn, they took on the appearance of blue-maned demons to outsiders.

These were prank artifacts she’d forged, never expecting they’d prove useful here.

From the moment they stepped into the demon realm, scorching heat and the pungent reek of sulfur had assaulted them.

At first, Yan Luoyue assumed it was the realm’s natural climate.

But as they neared the rocky cliffs, the truth became clear.

"...A lava river?"

Eyebrows lifting, Yan Luoyue murmured to herself.

Beneath their feet, the rough, porous stone path resembled volcanic slag.

A great chasm yawned before them, its depths churning with molten rock, glowing like liquid iron.

The river of lava seethed endlessly, spewing thick, acrid fumes.

Yan Luoyue stroked her chin, finally understanding.

"If that’s the case, it makes sense why so many demons gather near the forbidden zone."

After all, the forbidden zone and the demon-sealing barrier of Peaceful Ridge were barely a hundred miles apart.

Here, the demonic hordes had breached the innermost earthen seal.

Mid-tier and high-tier demons were held back by the second layer of the barrier.

Meanwhile, countless lesser demons—along with high-tier ones carrying fragments of the Moonfall Tree—congregated in the forbidden zone’s outermost ring.

Their combined numbers could easily reach tens of thousands.

To be honest, even during the Demon-Subduing War three thousand years ago, this would have been considered the scale of a mid-sized battle.

In the Pingning Mountains, cultivators enter the first two layers of the seal every year to clear out demonic creatures and reinforce the critical third layer.

Given that the number of demons in the Pingning Mountains is well-controlled, it makes no sense for their numbers to suddenly surge so drastically just a hundred or two hundred miles away.

Unless they’ve gathered an entire army, arriving with a purpose.

But now, Yan Luoyue understands: this molten river acts like a natural chasm, cutting off passage between the two sides.

This means the seals in the Pingning Mountains and the Forbidden Land correspond to two different continents.

The massive number of demonic creatures in the Forbidden Land is likely the result of long-term accumulation.

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang advanced further, killing any demons they encountered along the way.

Originally, their goal was to repair the seal.

But since they were already in the demon realm, they might as well sweep through the surrounding demons.

After completing this task, Yan Luoyue also wanted to head toward the Moonfall Tree to see it up close.

…For some reason, she felt an inexplicable fondness for that tree.

She admired its lush green color, its straight and dignified posture—every detail, from its flourishing branches to its gnarled roots, exuded a natural beauty. fгeewёbnoѵel.cσm

Yan Luoyue shared her thoughts with Wu Manshuang.

As usual, the little serpent didn’t contradict her.

In fact, Wu Manshuang agreed wholeheartedly: "The Moonfall Tree… it’s beautiful. And warm."

Logically, green is a cool-toned color, not something one associates with warmth.

But given that Wu Manshuang’s gaze never left Yan Luoyue as he spoke,

she unceremoniously took it as him using the tree as a metaphor—and happily accepted the compliment.

The two continued forward, soon delving deep into the mountain’s interior.

There, they discovered that most of the mountain’s core had been hollowed out.

The demons had excavated the mountain into a colossal, multi-level structure—like a towering skyscraper—capable of housing entire demon communities.

With no natural light inside, the demons had suspended bioluminescent creatures and minerals from the ceilings like lanterns.

The aesthetic of the demon realm was rugged and crude.

If Jiang Tingbai, with his straw-weaving skills, were to seek employment here, he’d easily land a job—and likely become a standout artisan.

The two "Green-Maned Demons" ventured deeper into the structure, their expressions growing increasingly perplexed.

In theory, demons constructing buildings and living in organized clusters should indicate a higher level of civilization, where different species could cooperate.

Yet, the moment Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang stepped inside, a sharp claw-strike came slashing toward them.

Thinking their disguises had been compromised, they swiftly dispatched the Shadow-Piercer Demon that had boldly attacked them.

But after checking each other thoroughly, they found no flaws in their disguises.

"…Maybe it was just hungry?" Wu Manshuang ventured uncertainly.

"Is it stupid?" Yan Luoyue was baffled. "Even as Green-Maned Demons, we’re still clothed Green-Maned Demons."

Under normal circumstances, even ordinary beasts would hesitate to attack creatures they could communicate with—unless food was scarce.

And if those creatures shared similar behavioral logic, hostility would decrease further.

—For example, if a dog wearing clothes suddenly wandered into your apartment building,

who would immediately think to beat it to death and cook it for dinner?

Wu Manshuang offered another theory: "Or maybe Green-Maned Demons and Shadow-Piercers are at war right now?"

But the moment he said it, he realized how flimsy that sounded.

According to the demon bestiary he knew, Green-Maned Demons weren’t even capable of waging war against Shadow-Piercers.

At best, they were prey—controlled, skinned, and turned into large brushes by Shadow-Piercers.

After some fruitless speculation, they continued descending through the mountain’s hollowed passages.

Less than half a minute later, another demon—a Horned Demon—tried to crush them.

Yan Luoyue: "…"

Wu Manshuang: "…"

The demon realm’s hospitality was truly lacking.

Before dying, the Horned Demon sounded genuinely surprised: "How bold, daring to walk this way—you’re not Green-Maned Demons?"

That was all it managed to say.

Wu Manshuang struck during its first sentence, turning the second into its last words.

But from those two lines, it was clear the Horned Demon hadn’t attacked because it saw through their disguises.

It had simply wanted to attack them.

This encounter left Yan Luoyue with even more questions. She exchanged a glance with Wu Manshuang—both of them frowning.

As they descended further, the level of the demonic creatures they encountered grew increasingly weaker.

Yet the two of them—or rather, the two "Azure-Maned Demons"—found themselves attacked more and more frequently.

Pondering the logic behind this, Yan Luoyue’s frown deepened.

This structure… seemed like a pyramid of power.

The weaker demons dwelled in the stifling, oppressive depths, closer to the molten lava and the scorching heat.

Meanwhile, the stronger demons occupied the more comfortable upper layers, enjoying the privilege of freely hunting those below.

"I have a bad feeling about this," Yan Luoyue said grimly. "Has no one ever conducted a study on demonic customs?"

The hierarchy of the demon realm, the social order of its creatures, their traditions and habits…

Yan Luoyue had once assumed that since demons could organize massive armies to launch attacks, their civilization must be highly developed, with a thriving population.

Later, she learned that in the demonic domain, creatures devoured one another, leading her to speculate that their society might resemble a feudal serfdom.

But now, it seemed the law of the jungle ruled the demon realm in its most brutal, naked form.

Chaos and order, slaughter and survival—two utterly conflicting phenomena coexisted in eerie harmony within this structure.

"Should we keep going down?" Wu Manshuang asked.

They had already located the water source in this place.

And then, Wu Manshuang had washed his hands in it.

He had deliberately chosen a toxin with a long incubation period but a devastatingly potent effect when triggered.

At this point, one could say they had already over-delivered on their mission.

Even at the very top of the structure, the Shadow-Piercing Demons posed no real threat to Wu Manshuang and Yan Luoyue.

So whether they chose to descend further or not hardly mattered.

In this place, they could come and go as they pleased.

"Let’s go a little further down," Yan Luoyue said after a brief moment of contemplation.

"I’m curious—what will we find at the very bottom?"

Moving from the mountain peak toward its core, the architectural style grew increasingly crude.

If the rooms carved near the summit still held a touch of exotic refinement,

then from the midsection downward, they were nothing but dilapidated and rough.

The contrast was stark—like comparing a two-story villa to a slum.

Yan Luoyue had expected the deepest part of the mountain’s core to be a ruined, rubble-strewn wasteland.

But she was wrong.

The environment at the heart of the mountain was surprisingly decent—aside from the stifling air, it wasn’t even dim.

Handmade woven lanterns and greasy oil candles burned ceaselessly, day and night.

The ceiling had been deliberately raised, towering twice as high as usual, making the space feel vast.

Inside, several plush beds piled with demon hides lay scattered about.

And on those beds rested grotesque, repulsive figures—their skin mottled blue and purple, their faces twisted with fangs, their upper bodies resembling mantises, their abdomens grotesquely swollen, ending in two flat, insect-like feet.

These were the Motherfiends—many of them in the throes of childbirth.

Do you remember? One of these Motherfiends had once allied with the Young Clan Leader of the Lu Family, intending to devour Wu Manshuang as its meal.

These creatures were its kin.

In the great hall at the mountain’s deepest core, the Motherfiends were like queen ants in a nest, pampered and fed.

They swallowed the offerings brought by lesser demons—sometimes, if the mood struck, they might casually chew up the lesser demons themselves.

Without the need for mating, the Motherfiends gave birth to one demon spawn after another.

The newborn demons could walk the moment they left their mothers’ bodies. Some, showing higher potential, scurried warily to the corners of the room.

Others, duller or of less desirable breeds, were impaled by the Motherfiends’ scythe-like forelimbs and then callously devoured.

Yan Luoyue took one look and immediately covered her eyes.

"After this, I’ll stare at the Moonwood for an entire day to cleanse my soul of this sight," she muttered. "This is… just too disgusting."

Everything about them—their hideous appearances, their ravenous feasting, their indiscriminate diets, their habit of eating their own weaker offspring—

This species was beyond anything Yan Luoyue’s sensibilities could tolerate.

Wu Manshuang patted her shoulder sympathetically.

"Honestly," he confessed, "back in the Lu Family’s underground chamber, I really didn’t want to be eaten by one of these things…"

First, out of sheer survival instinct.

Second… Motherfiends were just that ugly.

Once the initial shock wore off, Yan Luoyue steadied herself and quickly devised a way to turn this horror into an advantage.

"Actually, the longer you look at them, the less terrifying they seem. Especially the part where they’re hermaphroditic and can spawn different kinds of demons…"

Having spent years together, the two were practically telepathic.

With just a gesture from Yan Luoyue, Wu Manshuang already grasped her intent.

He gave her a subtle look and said, "Luoyue, are you planning to..."

Yan Luoyue replied excitedly, "Manshuang, we can kill these Yimu demons and take their corpses back as souvenirs, right?"

Wu Manshuang: "..."

He should have known.

As for who this special souvenir was meant for, there was no need to ask.

Yan Luoyue nodded firmly. "Let’s give it to Senior Sister Lili. I think she’ll definitely be able to do something extraordinary with it."

"Fine, then I’ll handle the killing, and you handle the gifting."

Wu Manshuang sighed dramatically and joked,

"I dig the hole, you fill the dirt. If the Peak Master of the Dan Peak finds out later and comes to punish us, let her beat us both to death together."

Once the division of labor was settled, Wu Manshuang got straight to work.

As a weak and low-level demon, a "Qingzong Demon" entering the room didn’t raise any suspicion.

A slightly larger Qingzong Demon glared fiercely at Wu Manshuang the moment it saw his empty hands.

Compared to demons like the Mud Burrower or the Rolling Wind Beast, Qingzong Demons had slightly better linguistic abilities.

At the very least, when it wanted to communicate, it could force its rough voice to string together a few meaningful words.

"You, food, find, none?"

The next second, the Qingzong Demon opened its mouth wide and charged straight at Wu Manshuang.

Its intention was clear—if there was no food to be found, then he would become the food.

Demons seemed born to love chaos and bloodshed.

When the other demons witnessed the fight between the two Qingzong Demons, not a single one showed any sympathy.

Instead, they roared excitedly, cheering on the larger Qingzong Demon.

Wu Manshuang didn’t wait for the larger demon to get close. With a single motion, he ended its life.

The larger Qingzong Demon swayed briefly before collapsing to the ground with a thud.

The remaining demons, far from realizing the impending danger and scattering in fear, only grew more frenzied.

Some even drooled at the sight of the corpse.

Clearly, despite possessing some level of intelligence and organization, their way of life remained terrifyingly savage and bloodthirsty.

Without Wu Manshuang even needing to lift a finger, the other demons swarmed over the corpse, tearing it apart.

The largest portion was offered to the Yimu Demon lounging on its fur bedding, while the scraps were divided among the lower-level demons in the room.

In less than the time it took to drink a cup of tea, the toxins in the corpse took effect.

The demons in the hall fell like harvested crops.

Wu Manshuang stepped forward calmly and collected several Yimu Demon corpses.

Just as he was about to leave with Yan Luoyue, something glinting on the fur bedding caught his attention.

His mind raced as he pocketed the object along with the Yimu Demon corpses.

...

Only after emerging from the mountain-built structure did Yan Luoyue finally exhale deeply.

Compared to the oppressive, twisted, and barbaric atmosphere of the ant-nest-like building, even the sulfur-laden air outside suddenly felt refreshing.

She took several deep breaths before Wu Manshuang suddenly extended a hand toward her.

In his palm lay a dazzling crystal ring.

"Huh?"

Knowing that this world had no custom of proposing with rings, Yan Luoyue merely blinked before teasing him:

"Now, Manshuang, isn’t this a bit too early? And you didn’t even prepare roses."

"Do you want to grow roses? I’ll ask Senior Sister Chang Lili for some seeds when we get back."

Wu Manshuang looked genuinely puzzled.

But since Yan Luoyue had mentioned roses, he made a mental note of it.

"As for this ring... I found it on the Yimu Demon’s bed."

The craftsmanship of demons might rival Jiang Tingbai’s at best.

This ring far exceeded a demon’s ability to create—it didn’t seem like a product of the demon realm.

Besides, Yimu Demons didn’t even have fingers; their forelimbs were blade-like stumps. What use would it have for a ring?

Yan Luoyue’s expression grew serious as she realized the implications.

She took the ring and examined it closely. The design featured a ferocious beast’s head.

For some reason, the rough lines of the beast’s face felt oddly familiar.

"I think I’ve seen it before too," Wu Manshuang confirmed.

Putting their heads together, they tried to recall where they might have encountered a similar beast.

Finally, Wu Manshuang gazed at the pink vortex in the sky and murmured a name.

"Master Jingxuan."

"...What?" Yan Luoyue was taken aback.

Wu Manshuang said firmly, "That time when you, me, and Master Jingxuan fell into the demon nest and encountered the Phantom Shaking Tree."

"—The Phantom Shaking Tree controlled a demon puppet. In that puppet’s storage pouch, you found a ring of the same design, except that one was silver."

As Wu Manshuang reminded her, Yan Luoyue’s memory gradually came back.

By the way, that demonic puppet named Wu Chunsheng had been bewitched by the Illusionary Shaking Tree, mistaking the phantom conjured by the tree for his wife.

In Wu Chunsheng’s storage pouch, there weren’t many valuable items—only a small portrait of his wife and a silver ring left a deep impression on Yan Luoyue.

The portrait was self-explanatory, but as for the ring…

"This ring… it’s the proof of a champion from the Silver Light Arena."

Depending on the material, the Silver Light Arena awarded its champions rings with beast-head designs—made of black iron, bronze, silver, gold, crystal, or jade—as a mark of honor.

By all logic, this item shouldn’t have appeared in the demon realm, let alone in the deepest layer of a demonic structure, the lair of the Heteromorph Demon.

Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang exchanged a glance, their expressions equally perplexed.

This feeling… how to describe it?

It was a bit like humans invading the South Pole, beating up all the penguins, and then finding a charging iPad in the nest of the Penguin King.

—Who could explain why there was an iPad here?!

At this moment, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang were staring at each other with the same sentiment:

Why was there a Silver Light Arena ring on the Heteromorph Demon’s bed?

Unfortunately, the demon in question had already been slain by Wu Manshuang, reduced to a lifeless souvenir, and thus unable to answer this question.

So, Yan Luoyue pocketed the crystal ring and declared decisively, "After we leave, we’ll investigate the Silver Light Arena."

For now, though, Yan Luoyue didn’t want to waste this rare one-day trip to the demon realm.

She wanted to visit a famous landmark—the Moonfall Tree.

The craftsmanship of demonic creatures was rudimentary, their manufacturing capabilities primitive, and they hadn’t even unlocked the skill of artifact refinement.

Therefore, whether Yan Luoyue pulled out her little flying saucer or her crispy chicken-leg airship, it would attract far too much attention.

If they didn’t want to arouse suspicion and end up swarmed by a horde of demons, Yan Luoyue and Wu Manshuang had to be cautious and opt for a safer mode of transportation.

"Let’s capture a couple of demonic mounts," Yan Luoyue suggested. "Avian demons would be best—they can fly in a straight line."

As she spoke, her gaze never left the distant silhouette of the Moonfall Tree.

As the saying goes, "The mountain looks deceptively near, but the horse dies before reaching it."

Now, applied to the Moonfall Tree, it might well be, "The tree looks deceptively near, but the demonic birds die before reaching it."

As she stared, a strange sensation suddenly rose in Yan Luoyue’s heart.

"Manshuang…" she murmured, "the Moonfall Tree… it feels like it’s watching me."

"—Manshuang, when you were in the demon realm, did you ever hear any sayings like, ‘When you gaze at the Moonfall Tree, the Moonfall Tree gazes back at you’?"

Clearly, no such proverbs existed in the demon realm.

And as a fellow tourist visiting this renowned demonic landmark, Wu Manshuang hadn’t experienced anything similar.

He noticed Yan Luoyue’s eyes suddenly drooping weakly, her body going limp as she slumped forward, and he hurriedly caught her.

"...Luoyue?!"

Yan Luoyue could no longer hear the young serpent’s startled and anxious call.

After uttering those words, she had been plunged into a sudden, inexplicable dizziness.

For a fleeting moment, she even felt her consciousness detach from her body—and in the next instant, she found herself standing in a sea of white mist.

On the other side of the mist stood… Yan Luoyue herself.

Yes, it couldn’t possibly be anyone else but Yan Luoyue.

The girl was slender and graceful, her stature identical to Yan Luoyue’s, her features a perfect mirror image—even the liveliness and mischief in her eyes were a carbon copy of Yan Luoyue’s own.

Yan Luoyue held her breath; so did the girl. Yan Luoyue tentatively raised a hand; the girl mirrored her. Yan Luoyue’s fingertip reached forward—damn it!

No wonder the girl in the mist looked exactly like her.

Hidden within the white mist was an endless expanse of mirrors!

Yan Luoyue shook her head, half-amused, half-exasperated, and the reflection in the mirror laughed and shook her head in unison.

Just as Yan Luoyue relaxed, in the next heartbeat, the girl in the mirror suddenly parted her lips.

"!!!"

Wait—wasn’t this the most classic, most clichéd ghost story trope? The reflection moving independently of the person?

Yan Luoyue instinctively raised a hand to her mouth, only to realize the situation wasn’t quite what she’d imagined.

It wasn’t that the reflection had acted on its own—rather, the mirror had captured Yan Luoyue’s own mouth opening.

Apart from her lips, every other part of Yan Luoyue’s body remained under her control.

She could cover her mouth, or she could turn and walk away.

At one point, Yan Luoyue even tried punching the mirror, but aside from sending ripples across its surface like water, nothing happened.

Clearly, this white mist—or rather, the Moonfall Tree—had no intention of harming Yan Luoyue.

It seemed to be trying to convey some message to her.

Yan Luoyue studied the movements of her own lips carefully, piecing them together into sentences, and then actively vocalized them.

"You’ve come too early…"

"Leave this place first…"

"Find Wuti... Wuti... Wuti..."

"—Wuti!" Yan Luoyue suddenly opened her eyes and grabbed the wrist closest to her. "—Wuti!"

In the illusion, Wuti—the divine flame that had turned Yan Luoyue into a broken record—was still just a legend. What Yan Luoyue had actually seized was Wu Manshuang's wrist.

Seeing ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‍Yan Luoyue regain consciousness, the tension in Wu Manshuang's lips eased slightly, though his eyes remained clouded with worry.

At that moment, Yan Luoyue was half-lying in Wu Manshuang's arms, her back securely supported by the boy's steady embrace.

The first thing she saw upon opening her eyes was Wu Manshuang's onyx-black gaze.

Surrounded by his familiar presence, Yan Luoyue quickly steadied herself.

"Did I pass out? How long was I unconscious?" she asked.

"Thirty counts," Wu Manshuang replied in his usual dependable tone. "After you said those words, you suddenly lost consciousness. I caught you and heard you muttering to yourself."

"What was I saying?" Yan Luoyue pressed, though she already had an inkling.

Sure enough, Wu Manshuang repeated the words she had uttered in the white mist.

"I see... Oh heavens!"

Her eyes flicked upward unintentionally, and Yan Luoyue froze.

For convenience, she had folded away her red health bar, leaving only the golden bar beneath that represented her spiritual energy.

Calling it a "life gauge" wasn't entirely accurate—strictly speaking, the golden bar reflected her mental state.

It depleted when she suffered spiritual attacks or overexerted her mind.

Like her health bar, this golden bar had grown by an additional zero at the end with each birthday since she turned seven.

Now, at ten years old, Yan Luoyue's total spiritual energy was 1000.

Yet, after less than thirty seconds in the white mist, her spiritual energy was nearly drained!

"What's wrong?" Wu Manshuang pressed urgently.

Had he not been holding her, he likely would have drawn his blade already.

"Nothing, just a bit dizzy."

Yan Luoyue coughed lightly to mask her overreaction and stood up from Wu Manshuang's arms.

Throughout the motion, the boy's arm remained loosely curled around her back, a silent safeguard.

His worried gaze enveloped her like a gentle mist—familiar, comforting, and warm.

Yet, at her slightest command, that mist-like softness could sharpen into the deadliest of blades in an instant.

"Alright, don't worry about me," Yan Luoyue said, patting Wu Manshuang's hand.

"That was just a minor hiccup—I'm actually fine. If you don’t believe me, I’ll perform a tap dance for you?"

Wu Manshuang: "...No dancing. Stay still."

Wu Manshuang was always composed and polite with outsiders, and he never spoke harshly to Yan Luoyue.

So, on the rare occasions when his tone hardened, Yan Luoyue couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. She promptly touched the tip of her nose and stood obediently in place.

Fine, no tap dancing then.

...Not that she was in the best condition for it anyway—her head still felt a little fuzzy.

Wu Manshuang turned his back to her, arms extended slightly behind him, knees bent.

It was an unmistakable invitation to be carried.

Yan Luoyue’s eyes crinkled with amusement as she leapt onto his back without hesitation.

Though Wu Manshuang still had the lean frame of a youth, his robes concealed well-defined muscles.

Even with Yan Luoyue clinging to him, his posture didn’t waver in the slightest.

With practiced ease, she rested her chin on his shoulder as he straightened up.

Only after Yan Luoyue had settled comfortably did Wu Manshuang take his first step.

From the moment he turned and crouched to the instant he began walking, the entire sequence flowed with the effortless precision of muscle memory.

Had there been onlookers, they would’ve stared in astonishment—

The two moved in such seamless harmony, it was as though they’d repeated this hundreds of times before, interlocking like perfectly meshed gears.

Noticing Wu Manshuang heading back the way they came, Yan Luoyue heaved an exaggerated sigh.

"Wu Manshuang, do you know what I’m thinking right now?"

Wu Manshuang humored her. "What?"

Yan Luoyue lamented, "It’s like when you’re all excited to explore a new map, ready to meet the NPC, only for them to say, ‘Dear player, you lack the key item to proceed.’"

The sentence was peppered with gaming jargon that might’ve confused most people.

But Wu Manshuang, having spent years by Yan Luoyue’s side, zeroed in on the key detail instantly.

He asked flatly, "Who’s this NPC, and why are they calling you ‘dear’?"

The deadpan delivery caught Yan Luoyue off guard.

After a stunned pause, she burst into laughter, her body shaking against Wu Manshuang’s back.

A while later, she grumbled quietly,

"Ugh, we finally made it to the demon realm, and now we have to head back right after finishing business."

"At least we didn’t return empty-handed," Wu Manshuang comforted her. "We prepared a souvenir for Senior Sister Lili."

After a moment’s thought, he added, "Also, I’ll ask the senior sister for some seeds to plant roses for you when we get back."

Yan Luoyue nearly choked.

She coughed violently several times before regaining her breath.

Patting Wu Manshuang’s shoulder, she encouraged him, "Well done, Manshuang. You’re venturing further down the path of terrible jokes."

Wu Manshuang looked slightly puzzled and even a little lost. He turned to Yan Luoyue and said earnestly, "It’s not a joke. I’ll plant them for you when we return."

Yan Luoyue covered her eyes with one hand and Wu Manshuang’s mouth with the other. "Stop, stop! Don’t say another word!"

Though confused by her intense reaction, Wu Manshuang obediently fell silent.

A short while later, just as Yan Luoyue was starting to feel bored, a soft little rabbit was suddenly pressed into her palm.

The rabbit was no bigger than her hand, snow-white with ruby-red eyes—adorable beyond words.

Yan Luoyue gave it a squeeze and confirmed it was made of felt.

Wu Manshuang’s craftsmanship was, of course, impeccable.

Back when he lived alone, he could tailor clothes, sew gloves, and even stitch layered soles for shoes.

A simple felt craft like this was naturally no challenge for him.

Hearing Yan Luoyue’s remark, Wu Manshuang corrected her, "It’s not wool."

"Then what fur is it?"

As she asked, an answer suddenly popped into Yan Luoyue’s mind.

…Wait, if it’s what she’s thinking… No way…

The thrifty little snake replied calmly, "Rabbit fur."

Yan Luoyue: "!!!"

Good heavens, it really was rabbit fur!

As for the source of the fur…

Wu Manshuang explained, "Have you ever touched Master’s hair?"

Ji Qinghong’s white hair looked silky and soft—and indeed, it felt just as delicate.

Rather than resembling human hair, it was more like the long, fluffy fur of a rabbit, with a very distinctive texture.

And Wu Manshuang, being the resourceful little snake he was, knew how to make the most of things.

During the Thousand Refinements Assembly, he had collected Ling Shuanghun’s feathers and crafted a crane-feather duster for Little Ling.

This time, he had spent some time gathering Ji Qinghong’s shed rabbit fur and shaping it into a felt rabbit…

"Originally, I meant to give it to Master as a birthday gift," Wu Manshuang said with a straight face, uttering something utterly terrifying.

"But if you like it, you can keep it. I still have leftover materials—I’ll make another one later."

Yan Luoyue was both shocked and amused, and she felt the little rabbit deserved a place of honor in Sulu Hall’s main hall.

But after some consideration, she decided that since the rabbit was so adorable, she would hang it from her waist so Ji Qinghong could admire it whenever they crossed paths.

Curious, Yan Luoyue asked, "Manshuang, how exactly did you collect the materials for this?"

To have enough fur left over after making a rabbit—had the little snake sneaked in at night and shaved Ji Qinghong bald?

Wu Manshuang replied with steady reliability, "I didn’t go out of my way to collect it. But have you noticed? Every time you talk with Master, he sheds a lot of hair…"