Chapter Seventy-Six: The Demon Clan Maiden

Today, for reasons unknown, countless ghosts within the demonic sect’s territory were flocking toward the Blood River. If one could ignore their cackling and mournful wails, the sight would have been astonishing.

Bai Qirui had just set foot upon the lands of the demonic sect when he was greeted by the spectacle of a gathering of myriad ghosts, stoking a faint confusion within him.

The yellow sand whipped against his face; he glanced down at his soiled robes, frowning slightly before conjuring a shield of spiritual power to ward off the sandstorm that, in his eyes, raged madly as though it were deranged.

As he pressed forward, he soon came upon several charred and half-devoured corpses, with blood pooling around them in rivers. His brows knit, a look of disgust flickering across his features.

He had long heard tales of the demonic sect’s lands: wild, violent spiritual energy, sandstorms that could blind, and bloodied corpses and wandering souls littering every path. By day, mortals and demons mingled; by night, monsters reveled in unrestrained carnage.

Nevertheless, Bai Shengyun was rumored to be here, and so Bai Qirui had no choice but to come in person to find him, lest his brother, in a fit of pique, commit some shocking deed.

After all, should the young emperor of the Celestial Fox Clan enter the demonic sect’s domain, the rumor alone would be enough to amuse the masses for months and stain the clan’s reputation.

What’s more, though the demonic and celestial sects had maintained an uneasy peace for years—turning a blind eye to each other’s trespasses—relations had grown strained of late. Most notably, a territorial dispute in the northeast remained unresolved, and war once again seemed to loom on the horizon.

Given Bai Shengyun’s temperament, if he were to do something reckless and spark open conflict between the two sects, the Celestial Fox Clan would be left with nothing but infamy and ridicule.

Though his brother always assured him with words like “It’s fine,” “I understand,” or “I have my own considerations,” Bai Qirui could not help but worry, as he had since they were children, and so he kept a watchful eye on him whenever possible.

Now, having entered a desolate settlement within the demonic sect’s territory, Bai Qirui was abruptly brought back to his senses by a stubborn, defiant voice.

“No matter how much you beat me, I won’t admit to it! I didn’t steal anything—an innocent heart is its own defense!”

The voice rang out loudly. Glancing around, Bai Qirui saw that the surrounding mortals and demons all wore expressions of numb indifference, evidently accustomed to such scenes and unwilling to intervene.

Fanning himself with a calming fan, Bai Qirui followed the voice.

Before long, he found himself at the end of a shadowy alley, where a girl, battered and bruised, lay on the ground, surrounded by human youths and demons who were beating her relentlessly.

“Still won’t confess? Everyone knows only the Mist Demons are fond of killing and stealing!” one boy declared, hands on his hips, his tone imperious.

A nearby half-demon nodded in agreement, looking down at the girl with disdain, his brows arched sharply. “That’s right. You’re the only Mist Demon around here. Who else could it be besides you?”

At these words, the girl bristled. Lowering her arms from her head, she glared at them with defiant gray eyes and tried to stand, only to be kicked down by the boy.

“Who else? Who else?!” the boy demanded, voice growing angrier with each repetition.

“I’ll have you know, we Mist Demons are good folk! Not all of us are as unreasonable and blind to justice as you two!” the girl retorted fiercely. No sooner had she spoken than she seized the boy’s pointing hand, baring two sharp fangs and biting down.

Blood welled up, and the boy howled in pain, tears springing to his eyes. He called out urgently to the half-demon, “Hurry, help me! Pull her off!”

The half-demon hurried forward, grabbing the girl by the neck to force her to release, but she only bit harder. With a twist of her head, she tore off a chunk of flesh, her gray eyes glinting with a cold light as she looked at the boy with scorn.

When he screamed, she spat the flesh onto the ground with a sharp “ptooey,” kicking it away with disgust.

Bai Qirui narrowed his eyes slightly; for a moment, he thought this girl was like a fierce wolf.

Once the boy had recovered somewhat, he reached out to grab her long hair, which trailed down to her waist. She tried to dodge, but her hair was too long, and he seized it, yanking her upright. She gasped in pain, struggling to break free, but the boy slammed her head into the ground.

Blood stained the earth, but he was not satisfied. Lifting his foot, he stomped on her head and kicked her repeatedly, shouting, “Was it you? Was it? Confess!”

Dazed and battered, the girl nevertheless forced back her nausea and shouted again and again, “No, it wasn’t me!”

The boy beat her for a long time, but she only repeated “No” over and over, never once begging for mercy.

At last, exhausted, he motioned for the half-demon to take over. But just as he did, all three of them suddenly felt a cool breeze sweep through, dispersing their anger and grievances.

It was Bai Qirui, of course, who had finally decided he could no longer stand by. He did not wish to intervene openly, so he fanned his calming fan, gathered a trace of spiritual power on his fingertip, and dislodged a roof tile directly above the boy.

With a resounding crash, the tile struck the boy’s head, leaving a deep gash that bled profusely.

The half-demon, being young and untrained, was oblivious to Bai Qirui’s presence and assumed it was a freak accident. Frightened, he hurried to catch the collapsing boy, his hands coming away wet with blood. Terrified, he pointed a trembling finger at the girl.

“You… you wretch! We’ll settle this with you next time, you filthy thief!”

Dizzy and half-blind, the girl staggered to her feet, spat a mouthful of bloody foam at the half-demon, and sneered, “Serves you right!”

He was furious and about to curse her further, but the boy in his arms suddenly began retching uncontrollably. In a panic, the half-demon hurried away with him, shouting insults over his shoulder: “Wretch… you’re finished! You’ll pay for this! Thief! Shameless!”

The girl seemed used to such abuse. Her face betrayed no emotion; once they had gone, she simply collapsed weakly beneath a nearby tree, coughing up blood as she rested.

Bai Qirui had never encountered someone so heedless before—gravely injured, yet making no attempt to seek treatment, instead choosing to rest in the shade. Truly bizarre.

He gave a soft “hmm,” tossed a money pouch toward her, and turned to leave.

But he had barely taken a single step when the girl, who had seemed fast asleep, suddenly opened her eyes and called after him in a weak, faltering voice, “Hey…”