The Demon Lord and I: Frenemies - Chapter 2

Fei Wanghuai rarely frowned. “Don’t belittle yourself.”

“It’s just the truth,” Chu Zaishuang replied lazily. “I’m only at the early stage of Three Leaves, not like my brother.”

In cultivation, One Leaf gathers spiritual energy, absorbing the essence of heaven and earth; Two Leaves condenses the core, forming the crystallization of the Dao heart; Three Leaves blossoms, the first fragrance of the Dao heart revealed. From One Leaf to Nine Leaves, the difficulty of cultivation increases, and high-level cultivators are especially rare.

She was now at the early stage of Three Leaves, her cultivation far below her peers, and she couldn’t compare to her exceptionally gifted brother.

“I did hear that Soul Separation Syndrome affects cultivation,” Fei Wanghuai said gently. “But you should be able to gather energy and practice swordsmanship. Senior Brother Chu has been teaching the Lotus Cloud Thirteen Forms lately. Why don’t we practice together when we return?”

In his dream, Chu Zaishuang was a master swordswoman, killing with a single strike-perhaps she was truly gifted with the sword.

Chu Zaishuang scratched her face, puzzled. “Why do you want to practice swordsmanship with me?”

Fei Wanghuai answered calmly, “We share a desk, so we should practice together. But since you dislike appearing in public, I discussed with Senior Brother Chu to study privately instead.”

“So you’re my desk mate?” Chu Zaishuang was taken aback. “…Alright then.”

*

Lotus Peak Mountain, shrouded in mist, with green hills stretching endlessly.

Fei Wanghuai suggested going to the Training Ground, but Chu Zaishuang politely declined and instead led him to a secluded spot.

It was early summer; round, tiny lotus leaves floated on the pond, with no sign yet of delicate lotus blossoms. A gentle breeze sent ripples across the water, rustling the giant trees along the shore.

Both held wooden swords, ready to spar on the open ground. Ironically, Fei Wanghuai, a Demon Cultivator, wore the Lotus Flower Sect uniform, while Chu Zaishuang was dressed in loose, mismatched blue robes.

Fei Wanghuai ran his finger along the wooden sword; the smooth blade was flawless, indistinguishable from a real sword. He looked at his bewildered opponent, feeling a strange tightness in his chest, every vein restless. His eyes flashed as he asked, “Do you still remember the Lotus Cloud Thirteen Forms?”

The Lotus Cloud Thirteen Forms were a secret technique of the Lotus Flower Sect. In his dream, she had used this sword art to pierce him through with a single strike.

“Remember or not…” Chu Zaishuang twirled her sword, still getting used to the new weapon, and mumbled, “Does it really matter?”

Her cultivation was low to begin with; she couldn’t unleash the sword art’s true power.

Fei Wanghuai’s expression grew serious. He gripped his wooden sword tightly and said in a low voice, “Alright, let’s begin.”

Since birth, Fei Wanghuai had been exceptionally gifted and strictly self-disciplined, his cultivation smooth and unimpeded. In his dream, she had killed him without resistance, and for a year he had been unable to swallow that humiliation. Before infiltrating the Lotus Flower Sect, he had sworn to find her and personally sever this inner demon.

Now, the moment had finally arrived.

The two stood facing each other, neither moving at first.

In the silent standoff, Chu Zaishuang moved first, swinging her wooden sword left and right, advancing and retreating, her intentions unclear.

The girl’s youthful face overlapped with the female cultivator from his dream, her bright apricot eyes exactly the same, except for the blood-red lotus mark between her brows. Though it was just sword practice, he did not relax at all, treating it as real combat, his face expressionless but his heart boiling with killing intent.

Her unpredictable sword moves were like ghostly footwork, probing with both feints and real attacks.

He watched her every movement closely. When she raised her sword to strike, he countered cleanly and swiftly, thrusting his sword straight at her brow!

Crack!

The wooden sword snapped, its broken half stuck in the earth!

With her forehead pressed against the hard wood, Chu Zaishuang held the broken sword, stunned. “Amazing.”

In an instant, the match was over.

Her wrist trembled slightly; when she tried to block, his strike had numbed her arm.

Fei Wanghuai was also taken aback. He pressed his lips together, forcibly suppressing his killing intent, and slowly moved the sword away. As the tip left her forehead, a faint mark remained on her pale skin. If the wooden sword had been real, blood would have splattered and a soul would have perished beneath the blade.

Too weak.

His feelings were complicated.

She was clearly the female cultivator who had stabbed him-how could she not block even a single strike?

Fei Wanghuai refused to accept it. “Maybe you always practice alone and aren’t used to sparring. Let’s try again.”

“Alright.” Chu Zaishuang tossed aside the broken sword, picked up a new one, and stretched her arm. “But I think your swordsmanship is excellent. You could win with a single strike; you don’t need any more practice.”

Fei Wanghuai chuckled softly. “Your swordsmanship isn’t bad either.” After all, she only needed one strike to kill him.

“?”

Chu Zaishuang thought he was just being polite. She raised her sword again, pointing the tip at Fei Wanghuai. The white-robed youth stood like a crane, the sapphire and silver chain at his neck gleaming brilliantly, reminiscent of wind-shattered ripples on a lake.

The surrounding grass and trees were silent as the two faced off once more.

Thud!

This time, the wooden sword was knocked flying, though it didn’t break.

Fei Wanghuai looked down at his sword, lowered his eyelids, and said in a deep voice, “Again.”

“Alright.”

Thud! Thud! Thud!

This time, she lasted three exchanges-barely a round.

“Let the sword follow your body, move with the sword, unite intent and energy, energy and spirit as one.” Fei Wanghuai defeated her with a single strike, shouting, “Again!”
“…Alright.”

What followed was still a one-sided match, so much so that even the victor found no pleasure in it.

Perhaps with more experience, Fei Wanghuai was no longer tense; instead, his mind calmed, and he began to seriously observe her swordplay.

So weak.

She was really so weak.

Freed from the interference of dreams, Chu Zaishuang’s fundamentals were average at best. Her wavering sword tip betrayed insufficient cultivation, her ghostly footwork revealed an unstable stance, her feints and probes showed a lack of real combat experience-full of flaws, impossible to watch in detail.

Her only merit was honesty. She truly was useless-she did not deceive him!

After several rounds, Fei Wanghuai finally couldn’t bear it any longer. He grabbed her sword-wielding hand and, with patience, said, “The Lotus Cloud Thirteen Forms emphasize footwork. When you leap and strike upward, your wrist must move.”

He never expected that one day he would have to teach his enemy how to stab him-utterly absurd. But her swordsmanship was so poor that even defeating her brought no sense of accomplishment.

“Sorry, I want to spar with you too, but my strength just doesn’t allow it.” Chu Zaishuang tried to pull her wrist back, her gaze drifting as she sought help. “Why don’t you find my brother? His swordsmanship is much better than mine!”

Seeing her trying to escape, Fei Wanghuai earnestly advised, “Cultivation benefits yourself. If you don’t work hard now, what will you do in the future?”

“Rely on my parents, do nothing.” Chu Zaishuang answered honestly, “My father is Su Tingyun, a Nine Leaves Mid Stage cultivator. My mother is Chu Chenyue, the former Sect Leader’s Daughter. I can get by just lying flat.”

“…” What a well-connected second-generation immortal!

Fei Wanghuai fell silent, his dark eyes flickering as he released her wrist. He began to doubt whether he had found the right person, or if the dream was mistaken-she didn’t seem like someone capable of killing him at all.

Chu Zaishuang also knew she was terrible. Embarrassed but still polite, she said, “Um, maybe let my brother switch seats with you, so you won’t waste your time practicing swordsmanship with me. It’s really hard to improve with me.”

“Forget it, no need.” Fei Wanghuai sighed. “I have a question.”

“What is it?” she asked weakly. “If it’s about cultivation, don’t ask me. I really don’t know.”

“It’s not about cultivation.” Fei Wanghuai glanced at her sleeve. “What book did you take from the bookstore earlier?”

“Oh, you mean this?” Chu Zaishuang pulled out a book, answering frankly, “Just a book of Go records. I flip through it for fun sometimes.”

“You know how to play Go?” Fei Wanghuai was quite surprised. He had always been good at the game, but while staying in the Lotus Flower Sect, he rarely had the chance to play.

“A little.”

Fei Wanghuai put away his wooden sword, no longer interested in practicing with her. He said offhandedly, “It’s a pity there’s no Go board here.”

Perhaps wanting to escape sword practice, Chu Zaishuang thought for a few seconds, then darted behind a tree. After rummaging around for a while, she actually produced a Go board. “There is one.”

Fei Wanghuai had thought this place by the pond was just barren ground; he hadn’t expected there to be miscellaneous items hidden behind the tree. He walked over and watched as she set the board straight and took out black and white Go stones. He asked, “Do you come here often?”

“Yes, there aren’t many people, and it’s quiet.”

Chu Zaishuang liked to be alone. The scenery here was beautiful and far from others-a little world of her own.

The square board was set, black and white stones facing off.

Neither mentioned the failed sword practice again. With Osmanthus Buns at hand, they passed the time playing Go.

At first, Fei Wanghuai was reluctant to sit, but seeing her sit cross-legged without a care, soon even slouching, he couldn’t keep up appearances either. He simply sat down on the ground as well. When he saw her pick up the white stones first, he asked in surprise, “You’re letting me play black and go first?”

Generally, black has the advantage of the first move. If there’s no komi, the odds of winning are much higher.

“Mm,” Chu Zaishuang replied. “Let’s just play for a while.”

Thinking of her swordsmanship, Fei Wanghuai hesitated. “A ‘while’ as in only lasting three moves?”

Faced with his skepticism, Chu Zaishuang blushed to the tips of her ears. “This will last much longer!”

Fei Wanghuai half-smiled. “Oh, much longer.”

Chu Zaishuang heard the perfunctory tone. “?”

She grew frustrated. “You don’t believe me. I’m an honest person. If I say I’m useless, then I really am useless. If I say it’ll last longer, then it really will…”

“Heh.”

“Come on, come on, let’s play.” Chu Zaishuang beckoned. “Let me prove myself!”

Black and white stones fell in turn, gradually filling the Go board.

Chu Zaishuang was indeed honest-her skill at Go far surpassed her swordsmanship. Though she seemed casual while playing, she repeatedly made brilliant moves. Whenever Fei Wanghuai cornered her, she would sneakily slip out, and soon spread across the board, starting a new round of entanglement.

Daylight slowly faded, the starry night quietly descended, and distant scenery melted into the darkness. The vast world was empty and silent, with only the sound of falling stones, cicadas, and wind rustling through the leaves. Flowing clouds, flowing wind, flowing water-no one disturbed their game, and even time seemed to flow with all things.

The air still carried the faint fragrance of flour and the sweetness of Osmanthus Buns. Fei Wanghuai didn’t like overly sweet things; after tasting just one, he left the rest for Chu Zaishuang to finish.

After a long while, he placed a black stone, claiming the final victory, and stood up. “It’s time to go.”
“Not playing anymore?” Chu Zaishuang glanced at the board. “Winning and then running off? That’s not very sportsmanlike, is it?”

“There’s morning training tomorrow. Aren’t you going to rest?” Fei Wanghuai felt invigorated after the match, the frustration from sword practice earlier swept away, but he hadn’t forgotten his priorities.

“Alright, you go ahead. I’ll pack up the board.”

“We’ll play again when there’s a chance,” Fei Wanghuai said with a smile. “It does take longer than swordplay.”

Beneath the shadows of the trees, his ink-dark eyes shimmered with light, more dazzling than the vast stars overhead-like melting snow and flowing streams, the icy fragments on the surface vanished, turning into a gentle, trickling current. The Cloud Water Robe suited him perfectly, pure and lustrous as moonlight.

A youth, free and unrestrained, graceful as jade beneath the wind.

Only after that moon-white figure departed did Chu Zaishuang awaken as if from a dream. She came to her senses and looked down at the chessboard.

The match had been fierce, black and white pieces entangled like two dragons refusing to yield, barely deciding a winner in the end.

In the silent night, she was left alone.

She studied the board carefully, but the quiet was suddenly broken.

All at once, a noisy voice clamored in her mind: [Why did you let him win? You could’ve won!]

“You startled me,” Chu Zaishuang jumped at the shout, dazed. “You were spying on our game?”

[I wasn’t spying, I watched fair and square. Did you play this game with your eyes closed? If you just tossed the pieces onto the board at random, it would probably look the same.]

She raised an eyebrow. “You’re exaggerating. What do you mean, playing blind?”

[Fine, then to be precise, you played with your eyes open-just as randomly.]

“…”

When Chu Zaishuang was young, she suffered a serious illness. Though she recovered, she developed Soul Separation Syndrome, and Xiao Shi was born in her sea of consciousness.

It had a blunt, fiery temper and always said strange things: sometimes claiming to be an ancient Shi’e Beast from primordial times; sometimes saying immortals sacrificed themselves to feed tigers, and it was the one being fed; sometimes insisting it was a high-level cultivator sealed into beast form, now residing in her mind; other times claiming to be a spirit from another realm, where there was no spiritual energy or cultivators, only mortals relying on metal to traverse the skies and earth.

In short, its words were always contradictory, inventing countless identities for itself, none of which sounded remotely credible.

No one else could see or hear Xiao Shi; only Chu Zaishuang could communicate with it. At first, she was curious and listened, but over time she grew numb, realizing none of it was true-though she did pick up some odd phrases.

Her parents had taken her to seek medical help, and it was diagnosed as Soul Separation Syndrome. In this world, there was no Xiao Shi; her soul was scattered, her Dao heart unstable, and the resulting hallucinations conjured up this being.

Xiao Shi scoffed at the diagnosis, saying incompetent doctors misled people, and that Soul Separation Syndrome might be called split personality in other realms.

Whatever the truth, she and it were now good friends.

Xiao Shi was still indignant: [Just because of his face, you let him win? He’s just a male cultivator-how could that be more important than winning?]

It was always competitive and had watched the match with frustration, wishing it could crush Fei Wanghuai for her.

“That’s not it,” Chu Zaishuang argued. “His playing style is sharp and ruthless, bold and aggressive. He won’t stop until he achieves his goal.”

[So what? He’s decent, but there were several times you could’ve countered.]

“Win the game, lose in life. If you don’t want to be targeted, you have to let him win.” Chu Zaishuang folded her arms behind her head, reclining in the grass and gazing at the star-filled sky, stretching her legs in leisure. “People can pretend, but chess can’t. With his personality, if he loses to me even once, he’ll be in turmoil all night. We wouldn’t get any sleep until he wins it back.”

Fei Wanghuai was gentle and polite, always smiling, but at his core he was proud and forceful-you could tell just from sword practice. If you provoke someone like that, it would be endless trouble, no peace, just unnecessary hassle.

So Chu Zaishuang was especially restrained when playing, tangling with him for a while but not letting him win too easily, nor crushing him completely, so he wouldn’t fixate on her afterward.

That was her way of dealing with the world: better fewer troubles than more, and lying flat was the easiest solution.

Xiao Shi blurted out: [If he dares keep you up, just sleep with him! He’s just a male cultivator-what’s there to be afraid of?]

Chu Zaishuang was stunned, as if scorched by fire, and sat up in alarm. “Sleep? Sleep with what!?”

[What’s wrong with what I said?] Xiao Shi muttered, seeing her cheeks flushed. [Why be embarrassed? I saw you staring at him for ages. Honestly, handsome men are all the same. If you try it, you’ll see-winning at chess is way more fun than men…]

It didn’t think its words were shocking or inappropriate at all, speaking with a frankness bordering on wildness, sounding even more outrageous.

Chu Zaishuang was embarrassed on its behalf, hurriedly stopping it: “Everything about that is wrong! Please, just talk like a normal person and stop with the wild talk!”

[I am the Shi’e Beast, part lion, part tiger, not a person-of course I only speak wild words.]

“…”