Chapter Eleven: Word Has It the Demon Lord Is Handsome

Seeing Cheng Yu crying so miserably, Chi Xiaoxiao couldn't help but doubt whether his teaching methods had been too ruthless. Yet he truly meant well—he only wanted Cheng Yu to master fire control more quickly when faced with danger. Had he done wrong? Conflicted, Chi Xiaoxiao realized he’d never imagined himself pushing someone to tears one day.

Ling Qiqi was equally surprised by how earth-shatteringly Cheng Yu wept, given how ordinary he seemed. To her amazement, he only cried harder after she comforted him. Though Ling Qiqi had no inkling that her smile had been misread as mockery, her instincts told her it was best not to linger. Helplessly, she said, “I won’t intrude. You two keep at it.”

Once Ling Qiqi left, the watery cocoon faded, and before long, Cheng Yu lost the soothing touch of the water spirit energy. The burns on his body began to sting and burn, so much that he no longer had the strength to keep sobbing.

After a long silence, Chi Xiaoxiao finally spoke. “The original plan was to give you, Brother Cheng Yu, some seeds condensed from wood spirit energy. During the competition, you’d secretly toss them at your opponent’s feet, letting them sprout into vines to entangle your foe. Naturally, your opponent would assume you specialize in wood energy and focus on the vines. That’s when you strike with fire—catching them off guard for a sure victory.”

Cheng Yu was moved and a little guilty after hearing this. Clearly, Chi Xiaoxiao had only his best interests at heart. Enduring the pain, he struggled to his feet and said, “Actually—I can hold on a little longer.”

But the little devil flashed his signature grin and replied, “No need to force yourself if you can’t. Persistence matters, but seeing you cry truly pains me. So I’ve decided to just help you cheat outright.”

Cheng Yu was startled by this ultimate solution. Looking at Chi Xiaoxiao’s bright, childlike smile, for a moment he almost thought the boy was a pure and adorable little angel. Only the persistent sting of his burns reminded him that this “angel” was not so innocent after all.

Noticing the burns covering Cheng Yu, Chi Xiaoxiao summoned dozens of fiery lotus blossoms for healing. But Cheng Yu, traumatized by the ordeal, recoiled in fear at the sight of fire, falling back to the ground—convinced the little devil meant to set him ablaze again.

“Don’t be scared. These don’t burn, and they won’t hurt you,” Chi Xiaoxiao reassured him. Seeing Cheng Yu so frightened, he regretted his earlier harshness—blaming Ling Qiqi’s meddling for his cruel approach.

Meanwhile, on her way to the Empty Peak, Ling Qiqi sneezed twice for no apparent reason. After some thought, she decided it must be the spring pollen allergy that healer Lin He had mentioned and dismissed it, unaware that the little devil had just jotted her down in his petty grievances ledger.

After Chi Xiaoxiao demonstrated that the fiery lotus blossoms couldn’t even ignite a leaf, Cheng Yu finally allowed them near his wounds. The moment the lotuses, conjured from pure spiritual energy, touched his burns, they swiftly healed the damaged flesh.

Cheng Yu marveled at the wonders of cultivation. No need for skin grafts even after extensive burns—what a miraculous boon for humanity.

“Have you ever thought of opening a clinic? With this skill, you could help so many people heal painlessly,” Cheng Yu said, touching his unblemished skin in amazement.

Chi Xiaoxiao grinned wickedly. “Aren’t you curious about who I really am? Have you ever seen a child with my abilities? Why open some shabby little clinic? I’ve aspired to be a great demon lord since childhood!”

Most cultivators were eager to eliminate the demonic sect and their ilk. If the other disciples of Jade Gate heard such words, they might cause a scandal. Yet Cheng Yu, an outsider and an impostor, only felt that Chi Xiaoxiao exuded a certain adolescent flamboyance.

“There’s no demon lord who spends his days up to such mischief. Think about that guy—what’s his name, the Crimson Sky Demon Lord. He’s charming, dashing, exudes authority—you can just tell he’s destined for grand things,” Cheng Yu replied nonchalantly, even referencing the main character from the original book.

Chi Xiaoxiao narrowed his eyes and smiled cryptically. “You speak as if you know him personally, Brother Cheng Yu. Don’t tell me you’ve actually met the Demon Lord? Or are you just trying to fool a cute child like me?”

Cheng Yu bristled at the suggestion that he was lying. “Who would lie to you, you little imp? Let me tell you—no one in this world knows the Crimson Sky Demon Lord better than I do!”

After all, Cheng Yu was the original author. Even if the story had deviated a bit, he believed most of the characters still retained their original personalities. Surely, they couldn’t all change overnight.

“So, can you tell me some of the Demon Lord’s exploits? I’ve always loved stories of great villains causing havoc—especially tales of abducting maidens or breaking up couples. I wonder what wild things the illustrious Crimson Sky Demon Lord has done?” Though Chi Xiaoxiao spoke with a teasing tone, his words hinted at skepticism.

Cheng Yu cleared his throat, straightened his scorched and ragged clothes, and looked at Chi Xiaoxiao. “If the Demon Lord ever did abduct a maiden, it’d be a different kind of story. He’d use his charm and power to lure a virtuous immortal lady, and just as she abandoned everything to follow him, he’d toss her aside. Wouldn’t that be something?”

This vulgar tale was a twisted retelling from Cheng Yu’s own novel, “Difficult to Be a Fairy,” where the heroine Ling Qiqi betrays Jade Gate and Ling Xiaozi to be with the Demon Lord. In the original, the Crimson Sky Demon Lord did indeed play the role of seducing the heroine and breaking up the main couple. So, by Cheng Yu’s standards, his version wasn’t wrong.

Chi Xiaoxiao’s smile grew even brighter. He found Cheng Yu most intriguing—plain-looking, unremarkable, yet somehow always full of surprises. He couldn’t help but look forward to what other antics Cheng Yu might come up with.

“The story is entertaining, but it’s obvious you don’t know the Demon Lord as well as you claim. Given his penchant for mischief, he wouldn’t just kick the immortal lady aside after winning her over. He’d go out of his way to capture her lover too, letting the poor fool see with his own eyes how his beloved is nothing but a faithless wretch. And that’s still not enough—he’d probably wipe out her entire sect, leaving the lover nowhere to return, forever severing any hope of reconciliation,” Chi Xiaoxiao analyzed with a straight face.

What? Was Chi Xiaoxiao a spy for the Demon Lord? How could he so accurately guess the ending of the original novel? Could he be the Demon Lord’s illegitimate son? But that didn’t make sense—the Demon Lord hadn’t even seduced Ling Qiqi yet, so where would a son come from? Unless Chi Xiaoxiao was the Demon Lord’s child with someone else? Cheng Yu’s mind raced, but the only ones who knew the Demon Lord was the mastermind behind the heroine’s fate were the Demon Lord himself and readers of the novel. Chi Xiaoxiao didn’t resemble the Demon Lord’s son or the Demon Lord himself. Could he be another transmigrator?

Cheng Yu decided to test him. Nervously, he asked, “Do you like potato chips?”

“Potato chips? You mean thin slices of dried mouse?” Chi Xiaoxiao was baffled by the sudden topic shift from storytelling to rodents.

Disappointed, Cheng Yu sighed. “Potato chips are thinly sliced, deep-fried potatoes. Crispy, delicious, and come in countless flavors—if you can imagine it, there’s a chip for it.” He smacked his lips, longing for the taste of junk food, which—even as the cause of his transmigration—still held a special place in his heart.

Chi Xiaoxiao wasn’t particularly gluttonous, but seeing Cheng Yu nearly drooling, he grew curious about both potatoes and these so-called chips.

“There are plenty of plants in the mountains around Jade Gate. If you can identify this potato of yours, maybe we can dig up a few and try making some chips,” Chi Xiaoxiao suggested.

The idea instantly revived Cheng Yu’s spirits. Eagerly, he pulled Chi Xiaoxiao along to search the woods for potatoes. Though he’d never farmed, he’d at least seen potato plants before. After much searching, they finally found a few in the depths of the forest.

“That’s it! Potatoes!” Cheng Yu exclaimed, pointing excitedly at the plants. Without caring about the dirt, he started digging, soon unearthing a handful of potatoes—unusually large, no doubt nourished by the mountain’s spiritual energy.

“So these are potatoes? Can you really eat them? They look like squashed, lumpy pears. Usually, ugly things don’t taste good,” Chi Xiaoxiao remarked with a hint of distaste, but curiosity got the better of him and he squatted down to inspect the yellow, ungainly tubers.

“Pretty things aren’t always tasty. How have you never seen a potato before? Didn’t you eat them at home as a kid?” Cheng Yu brushed the dirt off and gathered the potatoes in his arms, ready to head back.

Chi Xiaoxiao shook his head. “When I was little, my parents only let me eat immortal fruits—they said it would keep my body pure for cultivation.”

Cheng Yu imagined Chi Xiaoxiao must have been a pampered young master, raised on rare fruits and strict rules, groomed for cultivation from the cradle. Yet all those advantages hadn’t stopped him from growing up a little crooked.

“Your parents must have had it tough. With how mischievous you are, they must’ve been worried sick,” Cheng Yu mused, picturing the little devil wreaking havoc at home and feeling sympathy for his parents.

Chi Xiaoxiao laughed. “You’ve got it wrong, Brother Cheng Yu. I’m the most well-behaved child in my family—never gave my parents any trouble. If you met my sisters, you’d know what real chaos looks like. Even monsters and demons steer clear of them.”

As they chatted and walked back, Cheng Yu, clutching his soon-to-be chips, grew a little impatient and walked faster, only to trip over a stone.

“Oh no!”

“Careful!”

Thud, thud, thud.

Before Cheng Yu could react, Chi Xiaoxiao rushed to catch him. But the little devil overestimated his own strength and was promptly flattened beneath Cheng Yu—mouth to mouth.

In his twenty-odd years as a single, upstanding youth, Cheng Yu had never imagined that a simple stumble could lead to such heights, such drama, such a classic romantic scene.