Chapter 57 |
【BlackRed: Where’s Yuan Yuan? Didn’t she go meet up with you?】
【Group Leader: She said she had work today—probably at her job. I’m telling you, she’s seriously missing out.】
【BlackRed: Oh right, she works at that bar from the comic, doesn’t she? Kinda makes me wanna visit C City just to check it out. Didn’t you say you’d post a couple of pics of her in uniform so I can see if she looks the same in real life as in the manga? Why haven’t you posted them?】
【Group Leader: I’ve been busy, man. Besides, I don’t even know where exactly she works.】
【Group Leader: Wait up—something’s happening over here.】
【Group Leader: Wu Jin just got hit by Demon Flame Technique. He’s been dodging all this time, probably ran out of juice.】
Yuan Yuanyuan had been chipping away at Wu Jin for about fifteen minutes now, throwing maybe ten Demon Flame spells and another ten Demon Water spells. She started slow, but toward the end, she was averaging one every thirty seconds. She gradually realized that Wu Jin was starting to lag behind—he couldn’t keep up with her anymore, always reacting half a beat too late.
It wasn’t that his magic was weak—it was just that he was too slow. Her speed was on another level.
She felt like a wisp of smoke—if she so much as thought about it, she could “drift” a hundred meters away in an instant. Just one thought.
It felt like she was skating on ice—fluid, graceful, effortless. She’d never experienced this kind of raw, intuitive speed before.
To the audience above ground, what they saw was something else entirely: flashes of red smoke appearing in the air, with a vague shadow occasionally visible within.
Most of the demons present had never seen anything like this. They’d only heard of it in old stories. This was their first time witnessing this kind of demon magic in person.
It was like the figure had merged with the air itself—no trace, no presence. No one knew when he appeared or when he vanished.
He left no shadow, no sound.
“So powerful…” one demon murmured.
Yuan Yuanyuan, hidden belowground, listened to the sounds above. She knew her last strike had hit Wu Jin, though she wasn’t exactly sure what state he was in now—just that he hadn’t moved for a while.
She stared upward from her subterranean hiding spot, baffled as to why the guy hadn’t budged. He seemed really strong—no way a simple fire spell should’ve taken him out.
Honestly, she’d only been aiming to graze him with that Demon Flame—who’d have thought it would smack him right in the face?
Crap… what the hell? That Wu Jin guy was actually pretty good-looking. Hope she didn’t mess up his face.
Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t surface again. She just quietly listened for any movement. Meanwhile, the crowd above stood frozen, staring at Wu Jin as he knelt motionless on the ground, hair loose and trailing. No one spoke.
Many of the demons gathered here had only come to watch for fun. Some were younger demons who had only heard rumors about the legendary days, and their strength was low. Most had come with a casual, curious attitude—just to see what the fuss was about.
To modern demons, ancient demons were a distant concept—kind of like how average people think about Newton or Joule. They were names in a book, not real people. Symbols, not beings.
Most of the spectators freely admitted that they had shown up out of pure curiosity. But now, watching Wu Jin kneel in defeat, it felt like they had just been smacked in the head.
It stunned them—and woke them up.
This demon before them… had survived from that era.
They knew Wu Jin’s strength. He was famous in this region, well-known as one of the top-tier demons. That’s why, when he issued the challenge, no one had questioned it. Everyone believed he had what it took to face off against Yuan.
But now, all their assumptions had been flipped. Yuan had barely even shown himself—yet with only a few basic spells, he had completely outmaneuvered a powerful demon.
Some of the younger demons thought to themselves—
So this… is what a true ancient demon looks like.
One of the former Blood Jade Demon Army.
And Yuan… was one of them.
Yuan Yuanyuan didn’t do anything else—she simply paused, realizing Wu Jin hadn’t moved in ages. She didn’t dare get too close. She emerged again a little farther off—Wu Jin was still some distance from the plum tree.
A red mist began to gather again. Slowly, a figure appeared under the plum blossoms, arms folded, quietly watching the man not far away.
“Still want to fight?” Yuan Yuanyuan asked.
She glanced at Wu Jin, relieved to see his face hadn’t been ruined. That was something, at least.
“Thank you for the lesson, senior,” Wu Jin replied.
The surrounding demons stirred slightly, but none made a sound.
Yuan Yuanyuan figured that meant the fight was over.
She looked up at the plum blossoms again and wondered—could she leave now?
“Senior,” Wu Jin suddenly called from behind.
“…What is it?” she turned to ask.
“May I ask… what is your name?”
“Oh hell no, is he trying to get himself killed?” Jixiangyu muttered under his breath, watching from a distance.
He had been filming the entire duel. But in his eyes, this wasn’t a fight—it was more like a senior offering a younger demon a private lesson.
From the way the entire battle was fought using only basic techniques, to the fact that Yuan wasn’t even wearing makeup today… every detail meant something. Jixiangyu had always thought Yi Qi was a fascinating person. If this “Yuan” really was Yi Qi, then his every move today was loaded with meaning.
…To put it nicely: meticulous. To put it bluntly: a nitpicking perfectionist.
Jixiangyu had seen a few old war paintings of Yi Qi. Back then, the spies of the Blood Jade Demon Army didn’t just do covert work—they had to fight on the battlefield too. And to Jixiangyu, that was downright miserable… unimaginably so.
A full-time spy doing dirty work in secret and risking his life on the front lines—for a single salary. Sometimes even having to cross-dress…
The more he thought about it, the sadder it sounded.
Because Yi Qi had been deliberately erased from history, many younger demons had never heard of him. But Jixiangyu came from a prominent family—he’d seen more than most.
Every battlefield painting that included Yi Qi portrayed him in bold, striking colors. Often, in an otherwise gray-and-black painting, he would be the only splash of red.
Sometimes, his presence in the picture felt odd… but you couldn’t deny—he always stood out. Most people’s eyes would go straight to him.
In one painting—a portrait of Yi Qi—the artist didn’t even sign their name. Instead, they wrote a short note in the blank space.
That note left a deep impression on Jixiangyu. The artist was probably a close friend of Yi Qi, and the piece had a casual, almost sketchbook-like feel. While painting, the artist had asked curiously, “Why do you always wear such heavy makeup before battle?”
“Because every time might be the last,” Yi Qi had said after a pause.
The artist wrote that down in the corner.
Yi Qi had a naturally androgynous look. Once he put on makeup, it became impossible to tell if he was male or female. It was part of his disguise. A pretty “girl” could sometimes get further than a stoic warrior—but it also meant he was constantly ridiculed.
The artist had once tried to persuade him to stop dressing that way, thinking maybe it would be better. Even without makeup, most people couldn’t tell his gender… but after that conversation, the artist never brought it up again.
And now—Yi Qi was no longer dressing up at all. He appeared bare-faced, no makeup, in plain black clothes.
To outsiders, this was almost unthinkable.
Rumors were flying in the demon world lately—everyone was speculating about Yuan’s identity. The younger demons were clueless, but the older ones… they were all starting to think the same thing.
It wasn’t just the rumors.
No more red robes.
No more heavy makeup.
Standing there quietly in plain black, he was nearly unrecognizable—except for that still-exquisite face.
Many of the senior demons present today had probably come to confirm Yuan’s identity… like the test with the plum blossom tree.
Jixiangyu narrowed his eyes.
Was the man in red the real Yi Qi?
Or was the man in black the original?
Elsewhere, in her room, Gao Ling stared into her mirror, carefully lining her eyeliner while muttering to herself:
“Damn it… how the hell is this even possible… Did Yuan teach you how to be a woman or what?”
After finishing her makeup, she stared into the mirror for a while—still felt wrong.
She tossed down the eyeliner pen and sat in stunned silence.
She didn’t know why—but ever since that last chapter…
Her imagination had gone completely out of control.
It was like a black hole in her brain—once it opened, nothing could stop it.