264 - The Demon Fox Wife is a Foodie

Yan Zhao gently patted its head, soothing the bristling fur on its back with calm and steady movements. A crow flew within thirty feet of Yan Zhao, and suddenly, as if sensing something, its wings trembled, causing it to veer right and crash into a low house behind Yan Zhao. It collapsed and fell unconscious before it could even squawk. In Han Li's eyes flashed a sudden astonishment, extremely surprised: "A Blood Demon? No, even the purest Blood Demon wouldn't cause a spirit crow to lose composure like this. Where did you find such a little freak?" Jiang Ying did not explain but remarked, "Since you already know she has demon blood, this spirit fox being her contracted spirit pet should be of no concern, right?" "A demon contracting a spirit pet from the beast race, adopting human practices," Han Li chuckled, "Jiang Ying, it may be true she has demon blood, but she must be a half-demon. Could she be a secret child of one of your people from the human realm?" Jiang Ying's patience waned, her expression not the least bit pleased: "It's not necessary for you to know." "If you don't clarify, I will, of course, question it," Han Li remained unperturbed, "You wish to pass through my territory, then you must abide by the rules here. Even if the Demon Lord herself were to come, I would maintain the same stance." With Han Li unmoved, Jiang Ying's repeated attempts at communication had failed. As she deliberated on a strategy, Yan Zhao suddenly spoke from behind her: "Aunt Ying." Jiang Ying was taken aback and turned: "Young Master." Han Li raised an eyebrow in surprise: "Young Master?" Yan Zhao stepped in front of Jiang Ying, facing Han Li directly with a blank expression and said, "I need to go to the Nine Hells. It would be best if you don't block my way." A mocking, cold smile slowly crept onto Han Li's lips. In her territory, only one person in seventy thousand years had dared speak to her like that—the Demon Lord Nan Gong Yin. This woman was referred to as Young Master by Jiang Ying, so she must have some connection to Nan Gong Yin. Yet if she thought she could act with impunity under Nan Gong Yin's name, she was gravely mistaken. In the demon realm, one can only rely on their own strength; external factors hold no recognition. As Yan Zhao's voice faded, Lei Shuang and the others' expressions shifted dramatically, providing Han Li with an answer. What a naive little thing; spending too much time in the human realm and bringing their bluster to the demon realm. "Interesting," Han Li snapped her fingers, "You wish to force your way through? That's in line with our demon realm's rules." Jiang Ying attempted to dissuade her: "Young Master, don't act on impulse." Yan Zhao glanced at her: "But Aunt Ying, you don't have a better solution either." The opposing lord was clearly a formidable character. Her endless obstructions boiled down to not acknowledging Yan Zhao's identity. Even with Jiang Ying, Lei Shuang, and Feng Jin, three of the Demon Lord's confidants vouching for Yan Zhao, the lord wasn't convinced. Jiang Ying was momentarily speechless. Yan Zhao continued, "This is merely the first hurdle I've encountered in the demon realm. Ahead lies a towering mountain of swords, a sea of flames. Aunt Ying and the others can shield me momentarily, but there will come a time when you cannot always be by my side." She looked towards the blocking Han Li, her eyes devoid of any emotion, calmly stating a fact: "This hurdle, I must overcome myself." Jiang Ying fell silent. Spending too long in the human realm, they had picked up on human manners. Especially when Yan Zhao called her Aunt Ying, an inexplicable sense of responsibility arose within her, fearing Yan Zhao might stumble and fall, almost willing to cast aside the original survival rules of the demon world. Yet she also understood; if Yan Zhao couldn't pass this test, there would be no point in continuing the journey to the Nine Hells. From Yan Zhao's arms, the little fox lifted its head, eyes glimmering. Hearing such words from Yan Zhao, Ren Qing Yue was extremely surprised. Unbeknownst to her, Yan Zhao had grown this responsible. But mere courage is not enough; it requires the wisdom to judge whether something can be done. If it's like an egg hitting a rock, that's not bravery but foolishness. The little fox took a deep breath, ready to act should Yan Zhao find herself in danger. Even if it offended the demons, it was determined to save Yan Zhao. Emerging from the crowd, Yan Zhao issued a challenge to Han Li: "Come on, how do you want to fight?" Upon hearing this, Han Li laughed out loud: "Indeed, the ignorant are fearless. You wish to face me, but while you have the courage, I lack the patience. Survive today, and you may challenge me again." With that, she flicked her sleeve, and the lock on a stone hut behind the black tower clicked open, the stone door slowly swinging ajar. A hulking demonic slave, as sturdy as a bull, broke free from his shackles, dragging iron chains as thick as his wrist and ankle with each step towards Yan Zhao. With every step he took, the ground trembled, the rumble unceasing. Yan Zhao watched as the sunken footprints marked the path of the dark-skinned demonic slave, exuding a violent energy, approaching menacingly. Before he had even struck, Yan Zhao felt the ferocious aura surrounding him, like a ghost risen from a heap of corpses. This ghost locked onto Yan Zhao, and with a mere thirty feet remaining, he swung the iron chain with force towards her. The chain tightened with a snap, links clinking as a whip-like tail lashed down. It was so fast Yan Zhao couldn't dodge; with a loud bang, the chain struck her head-on, the bell on the fox's leg jingling, activating a shield that held for a moment before shattering. Yan Zhao was sent flying backward, kicking up dust along the way, tumbling over twice before landing with stars in her eyes. Witnessing this, Han Li whistled mocking disdain, "Weaker than I imagined, isn't she?" A soft target, even softer than anticipated. If Yan Zhao's strength matched even a tenth of her boldness, Han Li wouldn't find it so disappointing. Lei Shuang seethed with anger, glaring fiercely at Han Li: "It’s just beginning, what’s your hurry?" Neither Jiang Ying nor Feng Jin spoke, but they watched unblinking, focusing entirely on Yan Zhao’s movements within the battle circle. Han Li calmly absorbed Lei Shuang's fury, leisurely crossing her arms: "I'm curious to see how this so-called Young Master of yours performs." The demonic slave had merely been testing with a whip, unexpectedly launching the opponent. Stunned, he scowled, his fierce eyes revealing disdain. Such a fragile body wasn't even fit for a demonic slave for the lord. He halted his approach, gathered the chain, and growled at Yan Zhao: "Get up!" The rare occasion when the lord was in a pleasant mood and set him free from the demon prison, it turned pitiful with an overly weak opponent, preventing him from fully exerting his power. Yan Zhao lay motionless on the ground. Though the shield blocked ninety percent of the impact, the shockwaves still hit her shoulder, causing her shoulder bone to cave inward, her left arm twisted awkwardly. The little fox emerged, first checking Yan Zhao’s injuries. Seeing her shoulder's condition, its fur bristled with uncontrollable fury. But just as it was about to transform, a hand came forth, barring it from proceeding. Sitting up, Yan Zhao blocked the little fox and told it, "You stay outside; I don't need your help for this fight." With that, she used her right hand to grab her left arm, lifting it with a series of crackling sounds, her shattered shoulder bone completely healed. "Survived, did she?" Han Li uttered softly, intrigued. Gazing into Yan Zhao's steadfast eyes, the little fox saw unshakeable resolve. This determination flowed like a river, just like when she resolutely walked into the Wind Cloud Sect. Ren Qing Yue suppressed her concerns, stepping back, respecting Yan Zhao's decision. Rising to her feet, Yan Zhao's hair tie snapped, her hair cascading like a waterfall. Sensing Yan Zhao's aura, the demonic slave let out an exuberant screech, seizing the chain to lash it out once more. This time, Yan Zhao had her Swift Movement Spell seals ready; before the chain could land, she nearly teleported behind the demonic slave. Sensing something, the slave turned furiously but found himself met by a pair of sinister, blood-red eyes. "Kneel!" The incantation thundered in his ears, his mind buzzing, body beyond control, plummeting to his knees with a thud. Thereafter, Yan Zhao clutched his head and slammed it down fiercely. Boom— The stones flew, scattering as the demonic slave's forehead split open, a relentless hum echoing in his skull, rendering him utterly powerless despite his futile struggles to rise. Suddenly, his neck sank as a shoe, not even the size of his palm, pressed against the back of his neck, forcing his cheek into the ground. Yan Zhao stood atop his neck, attempting to restrain the demonic slave and prevent him from resisting further. However, the slave's ferocity knew no bounds. He spread his arms in an attempt to seize Yan Zhao's ankle, intending to snap her leg. Alert, Yan Zhao's face darkened, and she deftly unsheathed the Qing Shuang Sword for defense. The sword's aura was razor-sharp, slicing effortlessly into flesh. The chilling sensation seeped into his bones, leaving the demonic slave momentarily stunned before the horrific realization dawned: both his arms had simultaneously gone numb! The sharp aura had severed the veins in his arms, as if detaching them from his body, leaving him unable to feel their presence, much less move. Though his body was robust and hard to kill, with his arms crippled, he couldn't challenge Yan Zhao using just his neck. No matter how desperately he struggled, he couldn't rise. Yan Zhao twirled the sword, flicking off the blood from the Qing Shuang Sword's blade. Then, with a swift, reverse thrust, the sword pierced through the demonic slave's chest from behind. He thrashed beneath her foot for a few moments before gradually stilling. Han Li's expression shifted from shock to appreciation. She didn't spare a glance at the fallen slave but instead smiled at Yan Zhao, "Little one, where do you come from?" A gentle breeze blew through, causing Yan Zhao's unruly hair to sway. Amidst the strands, her eyes held a serene indifference, her expression detached: "My name is Yan Zhao, daughter of Yan Yuanqing and Nan Gong Yin." Chapter Two Hundred Eighty-Eight Han Li's smile gradually faded, her previous composure giving way to surprise and bewilderment. Her brows furrowed as she murmured, "Daughter of Yan Yuanqing and Nan Gong Yin? That's unbelievable." Yet, despite the shocking truth, in hindsight, it seemed logically sound. She had suspected some connection between the woman and Nan Gong Yin but hadn't imagined they were mother and daughter. The extraordinary sword in Yan Zhao's hands, upon closer inspection, was indeed Yan Yuanqing's Qing Shuang Sword. After a moment of astonishment, Han Li thoughtfully cupped her chin, pondering, "How did those two women manage to have a child?" Unusual happenings abound in the world; even spirits could leap from stone crevices. Nan Gong Yin herself was a naturally born Blood Demon without parents. Accepting this peculiarity, Han Li shifted her perspective: "In that case, if women can have children on their own, what's the point of men anymore?" Her curiosity piqued, Han Li asked Yan Zhao, "Did your mother ever tell you how you came to be?" Yan Zhao shook her head, "No." Han Li expressed regret, "What a pity." With Nan Gong Yin absent from the demon realm and Yan Yuanqing having died three hundred years ago, the secret to women giving birth might now be lost. Shaking her head, Han Li then shrugged off the thought, nonchalantly saying, "I don't want children anyway. Whether my attendants are male or female makes no difference. Female childbirth seems irrelevant to me." The others present: "..." The little fox, its head filled with black lines, stared wordlessly at Han Li, thinking: Are all demons not particularly bright? Though this lord seemed shrewd, her thinking was surprisingly whimsical. Yan Zhao sheathed the Qing Shuang Sword and called for the little fox, "Snowball, come!" The little fox dashed over to Yan Zhao, its tiny legs carrying it swiftly.