Chapter 12: Little Beast

The sunlight at the turn of late spring and early summer was always gentle and warm. Its effect was evident just by looking at a certain little demon, clad in crimson gauze, languidly sprawled by the waterside pavilion. After enduring this morning’s bedlam with the imperial concubines, she was now clutching her head in misery.

A demon, after all, thinks differently from humans—especially one who shuns mortal life. It is much like humans and parrots sharing the same space: the parrot observes every move, catches every word, yet remains oblivious to their meaning. In short, they do not belong to the same world.

Spring’s End crouched nearby, watching Daidai play on the wooden planks. Her brows were tightly knit, her expression lively yet anxious. She coughed lightly, “My lady, the ground is cold. Would you not rise?”

“You’re blocking my sunshine. Move aside.” As soon as a shadow fell across her, Daidai lifted her paw and poked Spring’s End, signaling her to step away.

But this one, too lazy even to lift her eyelids, was already growing drowsy under the sun’s warmth. Spring’s End could only grasp Daidai’s little finger and press it to her own plump cheek, then obediently scooted over—a model of compliance. The great demon was quite satisfied, suddenly realizing that these Four Beauties were far more useful than the clay dolls she once fashioned. Emboldened, she declared, “Beautiful Momo, fetch me some tasty treats. The round, colorful ones suit me perfectly.”

“Yes, my lady.” Spring’s End picked up the empty plate, shaking her head in mild exasperation. Worried that Daidai would overeat, she gently chided, “My lady, too many sweets will ruin your teeth. Perhaps you should rest and enjoy more tomorrow?”

“That won’t do.” The great demon felt wronged, casting a pitiful look at Spring’s End. “It’s wrong to mistreat animals.”

“…My lady, you shouldn’t joke like that,” said Spring’s End, her face stiffening.

“In any case, be good, Beautiful Momo, and bring me some pastries.” Daidai smacked her lips, nodding in approval. “Delicious beyond compare.” She looked for all the world like a seasoned connoisseur—so earnest that, had one not known better, one might have been deceived.

“Yes, my lady.” Spring’s End beckoned to a second-rank palace maid, instructing softly, “Baiyue, stay with our mistress. Remember, do not indulge her whims. She is only recently recovered—by no means let her enter the water.”

“Yes, Sister Spring’s End, you may rest assured.”

“I cannot rest assured.” Recalling how Daidai had clamored to play in the water just an hour before, Spring’s End pressed a hand to her forehead and staggered away, convinced her young mistress was regressing to childhood.

Such mischievousness rivaled that of her youth.

Noon arrived, the hour when His Majesty customarily dined. Given the unpleasantness of the night before, no one in Ganquan Palace dared hope the emperor would visit the empress for his midday meal. Yet, unexpectedly, he came. His face betrayed nothing, but the Four Lady Officials trembled, fearing he’d come to rebuke the empress.

The sunlight was radiant, but Ji Ye entered Ganquan Palace beneath a cloud of dark thoughts. He was not one to shirk from confrontation, always meeting challenges head-on, great or small.

Last night’s memories were disastrous. Chief among them: he, the sovereign of a nation, had been overpowered by his own empress—a direct affront to his authority. He felt compelled to speak with her, or rather, to reassert his position.

The harem was his private garden. Even the queen of peonies had no right to rebel.

Yet, wary of the empress’s shamelessness, he chose to go alone.

“You all wait here. I will go in by myself. Lunch will be served shortly—I will eat with the empress.” Provided, of course, this conversation did not collapse into discord.

The others bowed in assent, none daring to disobey.

Sunlight danced upon the lake, where lotus leaves trembled in anticipation of their imminent bloom.

“Daidai.” This was the tender, lingering address he’d used when first wooing You Daidai, a habit he’d kept ever since.

“Sire, when may I return home?” As he drew near, the little demon unceremoniously latched onto his leg.

“Ahem, if you are homesick, I shall summon Lady Xingguo to keep you company.” Hearing her plaintive, watery tone, he—rarely—felt a moment’s guilt.

“Ah…” The little demon released his leg and lay down again, gazing quietly at the water’s surface. “Never mind, I shall wait. A few decades is but a nap for me.” She forgot, though, that being a demon and being human are not the same.

“Sire, in a way, I am assisting your cultivation. When you succeed, do not forget to repay me. Oh… truly, it’s the death of a snake. Why are you god-kings so lacking in courtesy? Snakes have rights, you know.” Was it really proper to whisk a snake away without so much as a word?

She cast a resentful glance at Ji Ye, who seemed utterly baffled, as if she were quite mad. This gave Daidai an odd sense of clarity amid universal confusion.

Her mood suddenly lifted. Smiling slyly, she thought: Surely the king would not mistreat a little demon. If she could help the god-king achieve a breakthrough, would that not be to her credit?

At once she donned a fawning look and clung to his leg, preparing to climb up.

Her hands were entirely unreserved, grabbing wherever she could. Even the part between his legs became a makeshift handhold. Seeing where this was going, Ji Ye’s face darkened, and he was suddenly quite glad he’d left Li Fuquan and the others at the moon gate.

He abruptly recalled his purpose in coming and barked, “As empress, you must be dignified and obedient. You Daidai, is this how an empress conducts herself?!”

The sight nearly blinded him—a red gauze robe, a bare jade back. He pointed with a trembling finger, “What…what are you wearing? Have you no sense of decorum?!”

Beneath the gauze, she wore only undergarments—a crimson chemise embroidered with peonies and a phoenix.

“You think I look better without clothes, don’t you? I agree.” Daidai’s eyes curved in delight; she began to peel off the outer layer.

Ji Ye hastily grabbed her hand, hoisted the little miscreant up, and ground out, “You Daidai, do you even know what ‘shame’ means?!”

“I do not.” She shook her head obediently, body limp as if boneless, snuggling and winding herself around him. Were she in her serpent form, she would surely have coiled around Ji Ye again and again.

She was accustomed to keeping her favorite pets nestled in her coils, ready for a bit of mischief.

Hmm, she suddenly missed the little dog demon she kept at home. She wondered how he was faring.

Ji Ye nearly choked with exasperation and thundered, “You little beast!”

The coquettish laughter from his arms was followed by her bashful, girlish voice: “You’re awful, you’ll make me shy,” she simpered, affecting the airs of a maiden.

Ji Ye broke out in goosebumps. Speechless, he slung the little demon over his shoulder, smacked her bottom, and snapped, “Someone fetch Lady Xingguo. I must ask her how she raised such a niece!”