Chapter 92: Xin Shiniang (Part Two)

Before long, the entire mountain stronghold knew that Lady Jiao’e was to marry the chief’s wife.

In front of the firewood shed, a crowd gathered, each person both excited and curious, craning their necks to catch a glimpse of this so-called “chief’s wife” whose beauty could rival that of Lady Jiao’e, who was like a celestial fairy herself.

Suddenly, a sharp voice rang out from outside: “Move along, move along! Lady Jiao’e has said, those with work should get back to it, those without should go cradle their children. Don’t just stand here—if you scare the chief’s wife, you’ll answer to me!”

Soon, the crowd dispersed, and those reluctant to leave were kicked out.

Inside, Lord Yan Lin had long since awakened. Listening to the commotion outside, despair washed over him, yet he dared not call out, fearing it would attract a band of rough men.

He had heard of a band of mountain bandits outside Changyu County, known for robbing travelers year-round. Though rarely violent, they sometimes helped those in trouble, showing no sign of the fierce brutality typical of bandits.

Yet today, somehow, he had been captured and brought to the stronghold to become the chief’s wife? The thought of his grim fate filled Lord Yan Lin with increasing fear and hopelessness. Remembering the mocking faces of his worthless friends, he wished he had a knife to fight his way out.

Night fell, and it seemed that Lord Yan Lin had been completely forgotten. Hunger gnawed at him relentlessly, but he dared not knock or call out.

Suddenly, footsteps approached outside. His whole body trembled as he nervously watched the door, fearing a rough, bearded man would enter to force him into bed.

The door opened, revealing a young maiden clad in purple. Under the moonlight, she appeared like a celestial being, inspiring an urge to embrace and cherish her.

The purple-clad girl was conflicted, holding a tray. She hesitated to enter or retreat, her cheeks flushed, lips gently bitten in regret. The decision had been made and the person taken—could she really back out now? That would surely invite ridicule from her sisters.

At that moment, rustling garments sounded nearby, and a figure stepped into the moonlight, instantly standing before her. A shiver ran through her as if facing a great enemy. The tray slipped from her hands, scattering the food.

The sisters had told her that human cultivators loved to subdue demons and monsters, often skinning or tormenting them to show their power.

With this in mind, the purple-clad girl’s eyes darted, ready to flee. But a low hum emanated from the man, a heavy pressure that froze her in place.

Such profound cultivation—today, she was doomed. Her youthful face paled as she obediently remained still.

This man was none other than Yi Fan, who had followed all along. Seeing the late hour, he decided not to delay and revealed himself. He glanced at the girl, expressionless, and said, “You little demon, why do you roam the mortal world instead of training in the mountains? Associating with humans, disturbing their order—aren’t you afraid of being taken away?”

He then glanced at the pale-faced Lord Yan Lin nearby. “Stealing humans and trying to make one your chief’s wife—that’s absurd.”

The girl’s face turned white with fear, tears falling as she knelt and pleaded, “Daoist, this little demon dares not again.”

Yi Fan felt awkward—she was like a child, crying just like that, and he hadn’t even harmed her. Feeling helpless, he cleared his throat and glanced at the dazed Lord Yan Lin before kicking a nearby stone, knocking him unconscious.

“All right, stop crying,” Yi Fan said, somewhat resigned. If not for her reckless behavior and lack of malevolence, and the fact that her cultivation was orthodox Daoism, he would have left already.

The girl lifted her tear-streaked face. “Daoist, are you going to kill me?”

“That depends on how you behave. Don’t cry for now. Tell me your story.”

Yi Fan was curious—who had taught her this Daoist art?

Suddenly, a commotion broke out nearby. Nearly a hundred men wielding clubs, swords, and torches charged forward, led by a man shouting, “Release our Lady Jiao’e, or don’t blame us for being rude!”

Several others exclaimed, “Isn’t that the Daoist who tried to rob us yesterday?”

Yi Fan was stunned. When did he ever rob them? Looking closely, he recognized them as the same troublesome fellows from the day before.

Not wanting to argue, he grabbed the purple-clad girl’s shoulder and leaped onto the rooftop, swiftly disappearing into the night sky, leaving the bandits staring wide-eyed.

At the mountaintop, Yi Fan set the girl down. She looked pale and frightened but no longer cried, seeming somewhat dazed. Clearing his throat, he asked, “Now, tell me—what is your origin?”

The girl regained her composure and confessed, “This little demon is called Xin Shiniang. I train in the Fairy Fox Mountain, eight hundred miles from here.”

So the purple-clad girl was a fox demon, cultivating at Fairy Fox Mountain far away. Though her cultivation was not advanced, she had reached the third level of enlightened understanding. She had fourteen sisters, ranking tenth, and they lived harmoniously.

Once, after making a mistake and being scolded by their mother for not practicing properly and quarreling with her sisters, she left in a fit of anger, settling eight hundred miles away in Changyu County. There, she saw the suffering refugees and the bandits terrorizing the mountains, making life hard for the people.

She often heard her sisters tell stories of talented scholars and capable ministers in the human world and wished to emulate them. Using her demonic arts, she scared away the bandits and took over the stronghold, gathering the suffering refugees. After several years, she had made some achievements.

Not long ago, hearing more stories of talented men and beautiful women, and knowing that her fifth sister had married a great scholar and bore a son, she grew envious. On a whim, she decided to capture a scholar herself, to emulate her sister by marrying and having children, proving to their mother that she was just as capable.

Hearing this, Yi Fan understood fully—Xin Shiniang was a child at heart, innocent and rebellious, naively believing all people to be kind. Her mischief was like a prank protecting the local people.

Though she had done many good deeds, saving countless lives, the world was harsh, and such “bad” people were better in some ways. Yet, she disrupted the local government, causing the people to trust gods over officials. If some demon exploited this, the chaos could be beyond her imagining.

Shaking his head, Yi Fan asked, “How do you support all these refugees?”

Xin Shiniang raised her head proudly. “We control the mountain roads and collect protection fees from passing merchants. If that’s not enough, we take food from wealthy households.”

Well, he thought, never mind. Yi Fan was speechless but figured she was lucky not to have encountered demon-slaying cultivators yet.

Still, this was no lasting solution. Eventually, some cultivator would discover her. With her current power, escape would be impossible.

Noting her proud expression and tear stains left untouched, he said, “I see your cultivation method is orthodox Daoism. Which elder taught you?”

Suddenly alert, Xin Shiniang answered, “This little demon’s Daoist practice is crude, something I found by chance and took up for fun.”

Yi Fan was surprised. Could there be a deeper secret? Seeing her unwilling to say more, he didn’t press. It didn’t matter to him—advanced techniques were useless to him anyway.