The Demon Lord and I: Frenemies - Chapter 15

The sky was dim, and there was no one around.

A pile of miscellaneous items was stacked at the inn’s entrance, along with several discarded wooden planks and heaps of straw.

Chu Zaishuang put on her bracelet, aimed at a nearby plank, and tried out her new Sleeve Arrow. With a sharp sound, the arrowhead shot out, slicing a straight silver line through the air and embedding itself firmly into the solid wood!

A thin cord connected the arrowhead; with just a tug, she could easily retrieve the arrow.

She flicked her wrist, and with a rustling sound, the Cloud Brocade Rope attached to the arrow slithered like a snake, swiftly recoiling back into the silver bracelet. The silver Sleeve Arrow was very light, worn on the wrist like an ornament-no one would ever suspect it was a weapon.

“This thing feels like a toy,” Chu Zaishuang exclaimed in awe. “It’s perfect for knocking fruit off trees, or getting lotus pods from the pond that are out of reach. I’ll never have to worry about running out of lotus seeds again.”

Xiao Shi: [Isn’t this for self-defense? How does it turn into something else in your hands?]

She replied with satisfaction, “Not great for hitting people, but perfect for getting food!”

[?]

Upstairs, a white figure leaned by the window, watching the person at the inn’s entrance.

Fei Wanghuai saw Chu Zaishuang put on the Sleeve Arrow, then watched her hop off toward the town before gently closing the window, preparing to begin his cultivation for the day.

Of course, he knew she disliked cultivation, and had gifted her the Sleeve Arrow for more than one reason. After probing her several times with spells, he was certain she currently lacked a Dao Heart. By giving her a Sleeve Arrow forged from Soul-Guiding Silver, he could track her location whenever necessary.

He had no good excuse for a farewell gift, but since she didn’t carry a Sword, the Sleeve Arrow was perfectly reasonable. This way, he could handle his own affairs while always sensing her whereabouts.

The room’s furnishings were sparse, the environment simple and clean. Fei Wanghuai sat in meditation as usual, even closing his eyes, but couldn’t calm his mind. Her nonsensical question earlier had left his chest tight and his thoughts in disarray.

She had innocently asked why one should cultivate.

A cultivator is supposed to cultivate-whether seeking immortality or pursuing demonic arts-what need is there for a reason?

That night, the surging sound of water had risen, tossing his emotions about, and somewhere in the depths he sensed a breakthrough, yet it always fell just short, leaving him anxious and restless.

He had been stuck at this stage for a long time, but still didn’t understand what he was missing.

*

In town, Chu Zaishuang wandered curiously, but found nothing of interest. Small towns settled down early; the locals had long since extinguished their lights, and there was no bustling night market-just quiet streets.

Bored, Chu Zaishuang recited spells under her breath as she walked along the edge of the town. Recently, she’d been practicing Gathering Qi and Condensing Essence whenever she had free time. Thanks to the Wood Marsh Technique, patches of electrified grass sprouted beneath her feet; when the faint golden sparks faded, they turned into ordinary weeds.

“Gathering Qi is so slow. At this rate, reaching Three Leaves Mid Stage will take ages. When will I finally see the Primordial Spirit Flower?”

[Mainly, you haven’t taken any pills. I’ve seen others cultivate-they all use Heart-Clearing Pills.]

“Good point.” Chu Zaishuang took out a small bottle from her pocket. “I haven’t cultivated in so long, I almost forgot about this.”

The Heart-Clearing Pill was a medicinal pill that helped cultivators replenish spiritual energy. Without pills, a cultivator could only absorb spiritual energy on their own. In places where spiritual energy was scarce, Gathering Qi and Condensing Essence became even harder, making pills essential. Alchemists were still a major group among cultivators.

This bottle of Heart-Clearing Pills was issued by the sect; many joined the Lotus Flower Sect just for a steady supply of pills. Completing sect missions could earn even higher-grade pills.

She popped a green Heart-Clearing Pill into her mouth. Soon, it melted into a cool, slightly sweet flavor, filling the air with the scent of fresh grass. A surge of spiritual energy flooded her body, and Chu Zaishuang quickly harnessed it, activating her Qi Gathering Technique as clusters of tender grass bloomed beneath her feet.

The night wind swept by, and out in the wild fields beyond the town, dots of light flickered-yellow and green, rising and falling. She couldn’t tell if they were fireflies or something else.

“What’s that over there?” Chu Zaishuang asked curiously. “Can you sense it?”

Xiao Shi had a kind of beastly instinct and often provided her with information. It replied: [I don’t know what’s over there, but I do know there’s someone behind you.]

Startled, Chu Zaishuang quickly turned around and saw a young girl in white not far away, her hair braided with red currants.

Su Hongli hadn’t approached yet, but when she saw Chu Zaishuang turn around so alertly, she was startled too and whispered, “Sorry, did I scare you…”

“Ah-” Chu Zaishuang looked at the familiar Cloud Water Robe girl, blinking as her eyes lit up. “You’re Su Hongli?”

“You actually know my name.” Su Hongli was taken aback, then gave a shy smile. “Thank you for last time.”

She had hesitated for days, finally finding a chance to express her gratitude and let out a long sigh of relief.

“It’s nothing, really,” Chu Zaishuang praised. “Your hair ribbon is beautiful!”

“…Thank you.”

Su Hongli was always honest and tongue-tied. She’d worried that, as the Sect Leader’s Daughter, Chu Zaishuang would have nothing in common with her. Unexpectedly, the other girl was lively and talkative, which eased her own shyness and awkwardness.
Chu Zaishuang usually didn’t interact with others, but when someone approached her, she would immediately start talking nonstop, never letting the conversation stall: “I used to stay at Mortal Dust Marsh, and I often saw people braid their hair like this. Unfortunately, I’m not very good at braiding hair myself.”

“I can teach you,” Su Hongli said quickly. She reached for her own hair, only to realize she hadn’t brought a hair tie. “I’ll bring you one next time.”

“Great!”

The friendship between young girls always seemed so simple. As long as their vibes matched, they could chat idly, share braiding tips, and soon enough, their cheerful chatter would naturally draw them closer.

Su Hongli didn’t have many friends in the Lecture Hall, and she had never interacted with noble female cultivators before. Most of the time, it was Chu Zaishuang asking questions, and Su Hongli answering honestly. The questions weren’t stressful, just everyday things about mortal life.

“So your family owns a large piece of land?” Chu Zaishuang exclaimed. “Do you grow all your own food? What do you plant?”

“Yes, it sounds like a lot of land, but it doesn’t really make much money. We used to grow corn,” Su Hongli said, her eyes downcast, a hint of sadness in her voice. “Since I joined the sect, I’ve rarely had the chance to go home. I don’t even know what we’re planting now.”

All grassroots disciples of the Lotus Flower Sect were like this-busy with studies, rarely able to visit home. The divide between immortals and mortals was real; she had embarked on the path of cultivation, while her parents gradually grew old. Thinking of this, a wave of bittersweet emotion welled up in her heart.

Chu Zaishuang looked at her eagerly. “Is your family’s corn tasty?”

“Hmm…” Su Hongli hesitated. “There are two kinds of corn. Depends if you like it sweet or more glutinous.”

“Let’s go see it next time! I’ve never seen a cornfield before.”

“Sure, but my home is really remote.”

“That’s fine, isn’t this place remote too?”

Seeing Chu Zaishuang’s excitement, Su Hongli couldn’t help but laugh. “You really are special.”

Chu Zaishuang was puzzled. “How am I special?”

“No one else in the Lecture Hall ever talks to me about corn,” Su Hongli said. “They think it’s useless for cultivation.”

Cultivators basically didn’t eat grains; they relied on pills to maintain their spiritual energy. Food was so far removed from their lives, it didn’t even come up in daily conversation.

“Because I’m useless, of course I talk about useless things. I’m not an outstanding cultivator,” Chu Zaishuang said frankly. “If it weren’t for my parents, I probably wouldn’t have gotten into the Lotus Flower Sect. I got in through the back door!”

Su Hongli shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s true. The minimum requirement for entry is Three Leaves Mid Stage, and I’m only at Three Leaves Initial Stage.”

“It has nothing to do with cultivation level,” Su Hongli said seriously. “Before I joined, everyone praised Lotus Flower Sect cultivators for being upright and kind, chivalrous and just. But after I entered the Lecture Hall, I often wondered if maybe we were wrong before-maybe mortals just look up to immortals and unconsciously put them on a pedestal.”

Since joining, her experiences had left her deeply disappointed, even making her lose the desire to cultivate. She thought it might be better to return home and be a farm girl, rather than always being looked down upon because of her background. Even if she lost a good opportunity, at least she would be happy and retain her dignity.

She smiled. “But after meeting you, I think maybe we weren’t wrong. Lotus Flower Sect cultivators really are upright and kind, chivalrous and just.”

Seeing Su Hongli’s sincere expression, Chu Zaishuang, who had been so open before, suddenly felt shy and awkward, nervously touching her nose. “You’re making me embarrassed with all these compliments.”

“I mean it.”

But precisely because it was heartfelt, Chu Zaishuang grew even more flustered, wishing she could just mumble nonsense. Maybe she wasn’t good at handling others’ expectations-just like when Fei Wanghuai said she might be the best in the world one day, or when Su Hongli said she was upright and kind, chivalrous and just.

“Let’s talk about something else,” Chu Zaishuang changed the subject, pointing at a glowing spot ahead. “Look, there are fireflies over there.”

Su Hongli followed her gaze and observed for a while before hesitantly saying, “I think that’s a Spirit Heart Flower.”

“Spirit Heart Flower?”

“Yes, Spirit Heart Flower is the main ingredient for Heart-Clearing Pill. At night, it gathers spiritual energy and looks like fireflies from afar. We can pick some and make Heart-Clearing Pills ourselves…” When Su Hongli talked about spiritual herbs, she became animated, but then she remembered something and laughed. “Oh, I almost forgot-you don’t need pills.”

Chu Zaishuang came from a privileged background, probably like Lu Hewei and the others, never needing to scrimp and save for pills; someone would always provide resources for them.

“Of course. I don’t even cultivate, so pills are useless to me,” Chu Zaishuang said. “You can actually refine pills? But you haven’t even apprenticed under a master yet.”

Pill refining was an Alchemist’s course-even Chu Bingxiao didn’t know how, and it wasn’t part of the entry curriculum.

Su Hongli blushed. “The Medicine Elder left me an Alchemist’s handbook. I read through it and tried it myself. Heart-Clearing Pill isn’t too hard, but without Spirit Heart Flower, I haven’t made many.”

Chu Zaishuang was stunned. “You can refine pills without anyone teaching you? That’s pretty impressive.”

Suddenly, she understood why Lu Hewei targeted Su Hongli. With Su Hongli’s talent, she might become the Medicine Elder’s top disciple, directly threatening Lu Hewei’s future status-no wonder he felt uneasy.
“Anyway, there’s still plenty of time before the hour of the rabbit. Let’s go pick some. I’ve never seen Spirit Heart Flowers before.”

When Su Hongli heard this, she certainly wouldn’t refuse. As long as she could refine Spirit Heart Flowers into pills, she could trade them with others in the sect, which would also help with her own livelihood.

Across the wild fields, Spirit Heart Flowers were scattered here and there – with five tender petals and a golden-green stamen cradled by emerald leaves. In the dark night, the stamens slowly gathered spiritual energy, drifting into the air like fish blowing bubbles – some yellow, some green, emitting a faint glow.

Su Hongli explained to Chu Zaishuang as she carefully picked Spirit Heart Flowers and placed them in her storage pouch. They followed the trail of spirit herbs into the forest, gradually moving away from the edge of the small town. Fortunately, there were no Wind Howl Beasts here, and Xiao Shi hadn’t sensed anything unusual.

“During the day, Spirit Heart Flowers look like ordinary wildflowers. They even deliberately grow among other plants, so it’s hard for ordinary people to distinguish them. Only at night do they stand out.” Su Hongli picked another flower. “We only need the blossoms – leave the leaves behind so they can grow again.”

“I see.” Chu Zaishuang mimicked her and picked a flower as well. “I see some are yellow and some are green. Is there a difference?”

“Maybe it’s just the color of the spiritual energy they’ve gathered?” Su Hongli pondered. “I’m not really sure. When it comes to pill refining, there’s basically no difference.”

“I see.”

Chu Zaishuang’s curiosity was insatiable. Every so often, she would pull up a stem and ask Su Hongli what it was – sometimes a spirit herb, sometimes a weed. Fortunately, Su Hongli spoke little but was patient, identifying each for her and teaching her to recognize many plants.

They walked deeper and deeper, gathering an abundant harvest. Before long, their storage pouch was nearly full.

The forest was alive with the chirping of insects, and the air was especially fresh.

Xiao Shi said leisurely, “The spiritual energy here is so abundant!”

“Hongli, do Spirit Heart Flowers only grow where spiritual energy is abundant?” Chu Zaishuang looked out over the vast stretch of yellow and green spirit herbs, gradually sensing something was off. The town was remote and the spiritual energy nearby thin, yet here in the forest it was growing ever denser.

“Yes. I’ve never seen so many Spirit Heart Flowers before. Even Lotus Peak Mountain doesn’t have such a large patch.” Su Hongli looked down, organizing her storage pouch, and said helplessly, “The storage pouch from the sect is too small – I can’t fit any more.”

Chu Zaishuang looked around, her vision filled with a sea of yellow and green blossoms. Amidst the pale green specks of light, there was much less golden light. After thinking for a while, she suddenly suggested, “Let’s stop picking and walk ahead. I have a feeling there might be a Minor Paradise here!”

“A Minor Paradise? Really?” Su Hongli was startled. “But they say if there was a secret realm, the task would have been assigned to high-level cultivators long ago. It wouldn’t be left for entry-level disciples.”

A Minor Paradise is a secret realm formed after a cultivator’s death. Only cultivators who have reached the Six Leaves realm can create one upon their demise. It’s a domain that belongs only to cultivators, possibly containing techniques and treasures left by predecessors. Because its location is random, it takes careful searching and isn’t always easy to find the entrance.

“This place is remote, and most people here are ordinary. There shouldn’t be so much spiritual energy – unless someone brought it from elsewhere,” said Chu Zaishuang. “Since we still have time, let’s go take a look. Maybe we’ll get lucky.”

When the entry-level disciples came to the small town, they had felt stifled by the thin spiritual energy along the way, but here the energy was flourishing – clearly something was unusual.

Chu Zaishuang chased the golden glow within the green sea, hurrying into the forest with Su Hongli. The yellow and green of the Spirit Heart Flowers seemed to follow a pattern: more green light, less yellow, with the yellow light forming lines.

As they walked, Su Hongli suddenly recalled something and said, “By the way, it’s rare not to see you with Fei Wanghuai. Aren’t you two close?”

Chu Zaishuang’s steps faltered; she suddenly stopped and turned back in surprise. “Are we close?”

When did that happen? How did she not know?

“Aren’t you?” Su Hongli asked curiously. “You’re always together. People in the Lecture Hall talk about you two, saying you’re a perfect match.”

“???”

Chu Zaishuang was dumbfounded. “Has anyone ever said that to his face? Has no one been killed for it?”

Fei Wanghuai’s feelings toward her were more competitive than friendly, definitely not romantic.

Su Hongli replied seriously, “He rarely talks to us. He mostly talks to you.”

Chu Zaishuang said awkwardly, “We’re just…”

“You’re just friends.” Su Hongli nodded knowingly, made a gesture of keeping secrets, and solemnly promised, “Don’t worry, I understand.”

Chu Zaishuang felt embarrassed, so she stopped talking.

“…”

Chu Zaishuang heard the meaning behind her words. Feeling a bit awkward, she simply admitted, “No, we’re closer than friends.”

Su Hongli sighed, “I knew it. So you’re not just friends, you…”

“Closer than friends – we’re like sisters!”

“?”