To Be a Demon - Chapter 8

Poor me.

Being dead wasn’t enough. People still had to slander me.

But Zhang Wu’s story actually sounded well supported. If I hadn’t been Yan Beibei herself, I might have believed him.

He said Yue Lingyan had cut her own throat with a spiritual sword. On her table, she had left a great stack of letters, all her old correspondence with Yan Beibei. Some said Fairy Ziyan couldn’t let go of their years of friendship and died of grief. Others called bullshit: those letters had been an act. She had done plenty to help kill the great demon. She must have been delighted afterward. Why would she kill herself?

She had to have been murdered.

By whom?

Nobody could say.

But there was more. Not long afterward, somebody else died. A powerful cultivator who had played a decisive role in the battle against Yan Beibei. He was enjoying boundless glory, hailed as an immortal lord by everyone.

His death was gruesome.

One morning, his head, arms, heart, lungs, knees, feet, and plenty of other pieces were found hanging from separate branches of the enormous tree outside his sect, Liuqing Mountain. Blood fell like rain. The wind rustled through it all.

The last person to die that way had been Chaoshang Sect’s leader, killed by Yan Beibei.

Exactly the same death.

Rumors spread.

Some said Yan Beibei’s followers had come to avenge her.

But how could they? Which demonic cultivator had the power to slip unnoticed into Liuqing Mountain and so brutally murder one of its outstanding elders?

None of them.

Not even Yan Beibei, when she was alive.

But… Yan Beibei after death?

For a while, nobody involved in the battle against her slept well.

Fortunately, nothing else happened.

The case remained unsolved to this day.

Walking along, I kept thinking about what Zhang Wu had told me. Obviously, I hadn’t killed anyone. The most likely explanation was someone borrowing my name for dramatic effect while settling a personal grudge.

I was furious.

My good name had been sullied.

I was no longer pure.

I fumed all the way to my destination. The no-longer-pure me finally reached the place Zhang Wu said Fu Chen lived. Sure enough, it was all immortal mists. A thoroughly pretentious place. Fu Chen had always insisted on a more refined lifestyle than mine, even as a child.

We had been desperately poor. I lived like a wild monkey, my face always grubby.

He somehow stayed clean and fresh.

Even rags looked good on him.

Compare yourself to others and you’ll stop wanting to be human.

I kicked at the mist underfoot. The farther I went into this rotten place, the thicker it grew, like some deliberately arranged trap. I could barely see.

I was carrying a little dish made from spiritual fruit.

Yes. I had come to curry favor.

But the mist was ruining my mood. By the time I found him, I might dump the dish over his face.

Patience, Yan Beibei.

I let out a long breath. Before I finished, my foot found empty air.

I fell into water.

Fuck.

I couldn’t swim!

I used to be able to fly, so I had never worried. Now I was completely useless. Couldn’t do a thing.

I thrashed like a bear.

Swallowed a few mouthfuls too.

Seriously? The former great demon Yan Beibei, barely back from the dead, was about to drown?

Just as I was lamenting my life, my body lifted. Was I… flying? Not quite. Some force hoisted me into the air, then stopped.

I hung suspended, unable to move.

“Cough, cough…” After coughing in midair for a while, I noticed someone in the water below.

I looked more closely.

He leaned against the pool’s edge, one hand resting on the jade beside him, most of his body hidden beneath the pale green water. He wore only a thin robe, with his chest clearly exposed to my view. I had always appreciated good looks. Admiring handsome men’s bodies was one of my favorite hobbies.

Naturally, I swallowed.

My gaze rose.

Fu Chen’s deadpan face.

I choked on my own saliva.

Pah. Bad luck!

But his eyes were lowered. He seemed to be thinking about something, utterly absorbed.