The Demon Lord and I: Frenemies - Chapter 1

Lotus Flower Sect.

A gentle breeze stirred, lotus leaves swayed, and the upturned eaves in the distance were silhouetted black against the green mountains. Beneath the roof tiles, disciples in white rose one after another from their desks, having just finished their lessons for the day, carrying scrolls and pills as they headed off to cultivate.

As the eldest senior brother and the son of the Sect Leader of the Lotus Flower Sect, Chu Bingxiao was responsible for answering questions and resolving doubts for the newcomers. After finishing his duties, he was about to leave when someone called out to him.

“Senior Brother Chu, please wait.” A gentle male voice sounded. “I have something to ask.”

Chu Bingxiao turned and recognized the newcomer-it was Fei Wanghuai, this year’s top new disciple. The other’s features were handsome, his eyes smiling, jet-black hair tied up, a slender silver and sapphire clavicle chain at his neck, and the snowy white Cloud Water Robe made him appear as elegant as jade and pine.

It was said that Fei Wanghuai’s performance in the entrance examination was astonishing, and at such a young age, he had already reached the Four Leaves Initial Stage, with limitless potential.

“What is it?”

“I have been at the Lotus Flower Sect for several days, but for some reason, the other disciples all have companions,” Fei Wanghuai said with a wry smile. “Only I sit alone at my table.”

Chu Bingxiao glanced at the empty table, paused for a moment, then realized, “Oh, that’s Shuang’er’s seat.”

“Is she also a new disciple this year?”

“No, Shuang’er is my younger sister, but she rarely appears and prefers to cultivate alone…”

Fei Wanghuai replied good-naturedly, “No matter. If she seldom shows up, I can deliver the scrolls to her. There are some lessons that require discussion; we can always finish them privately.”

“Well…” Chu Bingxiao hesitated. “If you want to discuss coursework, you could ask someone else, or just ask me directly.”

“Does she dislike strangers? Is she unwilling to interact with me?”

“Not exactly.” Chu Bingxiao looked troubled. “To be honest, due to my negligence years ago, Shuang’er fell seriously ill and later developed Soul Separation Syndrome. I’m afraid her cultivation will be hard to advance. My parents and I feel guilty, so we let her do as she pleases-she studies if she wants, and doesn’t if she doesn’t.”

“I see.” Fei Wanghuai smiled. “But cultivation requires the right atmosphere. Perhaps seeing a new disciple will inspire her to practice. Why don’t I go and visit her?”

“That’s true. Very well.” Chu Bingxiao pondered for a few seconds, then took a small wooden box from his robe and handed it to Fei Wanghuai. “She rarely stays at Lotus Peak Mountain and always likes to run down the mountain. You can use this to find her.”

“Of course, don’t force anything regarding cultivation. If she…” He paused slightly. “If she says anything strange, please be understanding and don’t take it to heart.”

Fei Wanghuai’s eyes curved like a crescent moon. “It’s fine, we’re all fellow disciples. I don’t mind.”

Moments later, as Chu Bingxiao’s figure disappeared down the corridor, the smile at the corner of Fei Wanghuai’s eyes faded. His dark, lustrous eyes grew misty, his face expressionless, and his fingertips tapped the small wooden box rhythmically, as if beating out a tempo.

Several months later, he finally obtained news of Chu Zaishuang.

After the great war, the demon cultivators had been wiped out, leaving only the immortal cultivators in the world. But Fei Wanghuai was not one of the immortals-he was the son of the former Demon Venerable. He had gone so far as to use a secret art to alter his demonic aura and infiltrate the prestigious Lotus Flower Sect of the immortal world. The reason traced back to a prophetic dream he had a year ago.

In the dream, flames raged across the sky, mountains and rivers shattered, and he was pierced through the heart by a female cultivator with a lotus mark between her brows. Years of careful planning for the great revival of the demons were ruined in an instant.

Upon waking, Fei Wanghuai traveled thousands of miles to the Qionglian Twelve Islands, determined to gain the upper hand by learning about his enemy and nipping the crisis in the bud. Yet after months undercover in the Lotus Flower Sect, turning Lotus Peak Mountain upside down, he still could not find the female cultivator from his dream.

After much investigation, he learned that the Sect Leader and his wife had a son and a daughter. The son, Chu Bingxiao, was at the Four Leaves Mid Stage, his Primordial Spirit Flower a Golden Lotus Condensing Emerald. The daughter, Chu Zaishuang, was reclusive and her cultivation unknown. Other than her brother Chu Bingxiao, she rarely interacted with the disciples of the Lotus Flower Sect, her whereabouts always a mystery, as elusive as mist and cloud.

Now was the moment for the clouds to part and the sun to shine through.

The wooden box was opened, and a Tracking Butterfly fluttered out, emitting a faint green glow as it wobbled through the air, flying toward the foot of the mountain. The Tracking Butterfly was formed from Chu Bingxiao’s spiritual energy and would only disappear once it found Chu Zaishuang.

Fei Wanghuai dared not delay. He followed the butterfly down the mountain, searching for the nemesis from his dream.

*

The Qionglian Twelve Islands-countless floating isles of various shapes hidden behind light clouds-sketched a delicate lotus pond scene across the sky. The islands, large and small, some connected like lotus leaves, some lying like lotus roots, some blooming like lotus flowers.

Among them, the most famous was undoubtedly Lotus Peak Mountain, home to the Lotus Flower Sect, and the highest of the Qionglian Twelve Islands. Next was Mortal Dust Marsh, the island with the largest mortal population and the greatest trade market.
“Under the eaves by the door, a flock of ducks is roasting, come quick, come quick and count them, two, four, six, seven, eight…”

In the backyard, inside the fence, a young girl in a blue robe gripped a brush in one hand and tended the fire with the other, wholly absorbed in basting the roasting ducks. Her hair was styled in a drooping osmanthus bun, her skin pale as frost and snow, lips like peach blossoms, and her clear apricot eyes shone with intelligence. Only a few stray hairs at her temples were messy, and an odd smudge of charcoal marked her cheek.

“Look at you, instead of cultivating on the mountain, you run here every day to roast ducks. Is that proper?” Aunt Sun came out of the house, watching the girl busy herself with a sigh. “So many people would give anything to climb Lotus Peak Mountain, yet you hole up in a place like this, mixing with us ordinary folk!”

“What’s so great about cultivation?” Chu Zaishuang lifted a fragrant roast duck. “All things are inferior, only roast duck is supreme. The path of immortality can’t compare to the shine of my roasted ducks-look, they’re still sizzling with oil.”

“Silly child.” Aunt Sun admonished earnestly, “Cultivation lets you keep your youthful looks and extend your lifespan-isn’t that good enough? If I had your talent, I’d be diligent and free, and wouldn’t be running this roast duck shop anymore.”

“Auntie, you’re a good person. Good people live better and better, but I’m a rotten one, so I can only get worse as I live.” Chu Zaishuang replied carelessly, “So I’d rather live less-who needs more years?”

Aunt Sun, hearing her speak so bluntly, quickly said, “Pah, pah, pah, nonsense! Don’t say such unlucky things!”

“There’s nothing carefree about cultivation either. Mortals use wood to make fire, cultivators use spiritual energy, but the roast duck tastes the same.” Chu Zaishuang poked the fire with a small stick, sparks flying and illuminating her delicate profile. “You might argue with the roast duck shop owner across the street, and they just as well quarrel with other cultivators. No one’s life is much more glamorous than anyone else’s.”

“I never argued first, he started it.” Aunt Sun put her hands on her hips. “You’ve got a lot of twisted logic. So what do you want, are you really going to freeload here forever?”

Chu Zaishuang’s eyes lit up: “No, once I roast the best duck in Mortal Dust Marsh, I’ll leave!”

“You’re dreaming.” Aunt Sun raised her brows. “The best roast duck in Mortal Dust Marsh can only be mine.”

“Is that so? Then I guess I’ll have to freeload for a lifetime.”

“…You want to outlast me, is that it?”

“Pah, pah, pah, nonsense! Don’t say such unlucky things.”

“…”

A pale green butterfly landed on the fence, then vanished with the wind, its spiritual energy dissipating completely.

“Excuse me, is Chu Zaishuang here?”

Fei Wanghuai hadn’t expected the Tracking Butterfly to lead him to a bustling backyard. He’d thought she would be secluded, hidden in the mountains, perhaps cultivating alone in a small cave paradise. But the messy fences and muddy paths overturned his expectations. Cultivators always preferred tranquility; Lotus Peak Mountain was shrouded in immortal energy, with strange rocks and fresh breezes, utterly different from the lively Mortal Dust Marsh.

The air was thick with the scent of charcoal, feathers clung to the fence, and green shoots sprouted in the vegetable patch nearby-clearly a mortal’s dwelling, so much so that he couldn’t find a place to stand.

“She’s here, she’s here!” Aunt Sun saw the handsome man in white robes and exclaimed with delight, “Someone’s come to fetch you!”

“Impossible, my brother is busy teaching new disciples and can’t spare the time for me.” Chu Zaishuang had just put out the fire, not even bothering to look up, clearly not taking the words seriously.

“I am Fei Wanghuai, sent by Senior Brother Chu to bring you back to Lotus Peak Mountain.”

At the sound, Chu Zaishuang looked over, seeing a flash of white in the mortal world, dazzling as spring water over shattered ice. The snow-satin revealed intricate patterns in the sunlight, the sleeves tightly stitched with fine red silk cord. His face was like carved jade, dressed in a Cloud Water Robe, his hair bound with a silver crown-undoubtedly a disciple of the Lotus Flower Sect.

Chu Zaishuang held her roast duck, silent for a few seconds before dryly saying, “But I haven’t yet roasted the number one duck in Mortal Dust Marsh.”

Aunt Sun strode forward, snatched the stick from her hand, and raised the roast duck like a banner: “I declare, this is the number one duck in Mortal Dust Marsh! The student surpasses the master-your roasting skills have outdone mine!”

Chu Zaishuang lowered her gaze: “But I can’t bear to leave your Osmanthus Buns.”

Aunt Sun grabbed a paper bag from the side and stuffed it into her arms, warmly saying, “Just steamed, take them to eat on the road.”

“But I…”

“Take them! Hurry up and take them!” Aunt Sun dragged Chu Zaishuang and handed her over to Fei Wanghuai outside the fence, her voice booming, “Don’t think being a cultivator makes you special, that you can have mortals babysit for you!”

Fei Wanghuai: “…”

Moments later, the small gate closed, leaving only the two of them outside.

Chu Zaishuang hugged the warm Osmanthus Buns, watching Aunt Sun scurry away, and timidly added the second half of her sentence: “But I roasted so many ducks… don’t I get paid for it…”
The backyard was empty and silent, long devoid of any response.

Fei Wanghuai said, “Let’s go back.”

The setting sun painted the sky in dazzling colors, the ink-like clouds wrapped in twilight, weaving a radiant tapestry overhead. The two of them circled out from the backyard, and were immediately greeted by the bustling marketplace. Vendors of all kinds shouted their wares, creating a lively and prosperous scene.

Chu Zaishuang had mingled here for quite some time and was already familiar with the neighbors. Before leaving, she even chatted with them for a bit.

“Oh, you’re leaving? I thought you’d keep mooching food and drink,” joked the owner of the bookstore next door. “Did Aunt Sun kick you out?”

“How can the affairs of cultivators be called mooching?” Chu Zaishuang pouted. “I helped roast the duck. Don’t tarnish my reputation.”

“Hey, take this as a farewell gift,” the bookstore owner teased, tossing her a book.

Chu Zaishuang caught it with one hand. When she saw the contents, her eyes lit up instantly. She carefully put it away and bowed cheerfully, “Thank you, thank you! Wishing you prosperity!”

Fei Wanghuai watched this scene, curiosity piqued. He wondered what kind of book it was, but since the bookstore owner was an ordinary mortal, it was unlikely to be a precious classic or profound cultivation manual-probably just some worldly tales.

He studied Chu Zaishuang closely. Her appearance matched what he had seen in his dreams, though she looked a bit more youthful and innocent. There was a smudge of charcoal on her face, and now she resembled a young beast begging for food, chattering endlessly with the mortals, showing none of the sharp, lethal aura of someone who would draw her sword to kill.

No, perhaps she was just pretending, using this to lower the vigilance of those around her-and his own.

He refused to believe that a cultivator capable of stabbing him through the heart was powerless.

“What’s wrong?” Chu Zaishuang noticed Fei Wanghuai’s gaze. She blinked and looked down at the Osmanthus Bun. “Do you want to eat?”

He stared at her for a long time, as if searching for something, leaving her quite puzzled.

“No need,” Fei Wanghuai replied calmly, withdrawing his gaze. He took out a plain handkerchief and handed it to Chu Zaishuang. “Wipe your face.”

Chu Zaishuang took it in confusion and obediently wiped her face.

Looking down, she saw the pristine silk was now stained with charcoal. The handkerchief was of fine quality, smooth and light to the touch, with a droplet-shaped blue embroidery at one corner-it seemed to be something he carried personally.

Holding the handkerchief, Chu Zaishuang was at a loss for a moment and stammered, “Um, I’ll wash it and return it to you, or buy a new one…”

Fei Wanghuai smiled, “No need, it’s not worth much.”

“Alright,” Chu Zaishuang pondered for a few seconds, then stuffed the paper bag into his hand, returning the gesture. “This is for you. It tastes pretty good.”

Cultivators rarely ate mortal food, as it was of no benefit to their cultivation, and Fei Wanghuai was no exception. He accepted it casually, not giving it much thought.

*

The two left the bustling city and headed to the formation outside, preparing to return to Lotus Peak Mountain. Since too many mortals lived within Mortal Dust Marsh, cultivators were strictly forbidden from flying through the city. To leave, they had to rely on the formation.

At the edge of the city, the noise of the market faded away. A light floral fragrance drifted through the woods, and the warm sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering into countless patches on the ground. All around was tranquil-no insects chirped, and no one passed by.

Fei Wanghuai knew he couldn’t make a move against Chu Zaishuang today. Since he had already infiltrated the Lotus Flower Sect, there was no need to rush. As long as he learned her secrets, there would always be an opportunity.

As they traveled together, it was a good chance to probe. He asked indirectly, “I heard from Senior Brother Chu that you prefer to cultivate alone. What do you usually practice?”

Chu Zaishuang looked at him oddly. “You might have heard wrong.”

Fei Wanghuai was puzzled.

Chu Zaishuang admitted, “I never cultivate.”

“Because of Soul Separation Syndrome?” Fei Wanghuai asked. “I heard…”

Chu Zaishuang shook her head. “No, it’s not because of Soul Separation Syndrome.”

“Then why…”

“Because I’m useless.”

“What?”

Seeing his stunned expression, Chu Zaishuang raised her thumb, pointing at herself with pride, and repeated, “Because I’m useless!”

“…”

Fei Wanghuai felt as if something was stuck in his throat.

Not very damaging, but extremely insulting.

If she called herself useless, and he had been stabbed through the heart by her, then what did that make him? Useless and then some?