She swung her legs over the edge, her bare feet touching the cool floor, and padded toward the door. The moment she stepped outside, five guards snapped to attention.
Their faces flushed the instant they saw her still dressed in a sleeping robe. Bowing quickly, they averted their eyes and backed away in fear. If the emperor were here and discovered they had seen his wife in such attire, he might very well have their eyes gouged out.
A sharp, mocking laugh broke the air. "Hmph. She truly believes she is the Empress just because she married him—daring to call our master by his name. What audacity," Zǐyān said mockingly.
The words burned in Feng Ling's ears, fanning a fire in her chest. Even a servant dares to insult her now? She could not defeat the Demon Emperor yet, but a petty maidservant? That was another matter.
She stepped forward, her voice low and cutting. "It seems you dislike that I married your lord. Guess what? I never wanted to marry him either. If you like him so much, perhaps you should confess your feelings to him yourself. Yesterday, I ignored your disrespect. Today, I won't."
With a flick of her wrist, glowing chains of condensed magic shot from her palm, wrapping around Zǐyān's body. The maid gasped, her eyes wide as she struggled against the restraints, but the bindings only tightened.
Feng Ling's fingers traced a swift rune in the air. "Soul-Binding Curse."
A crimson thread of energy pierced Zǐyān's forehead. Her body jerked, a strangled cry escaping her lips as the magic burrowed deep, wrapping invisible coils around her soul. Each breath came harder than the last, pain blooming with every heartbeat.
She collapsed to the floor, and Xiāngxuě rushed to catch her. The other servants stood frozen, fear flickering in their eyes as they stared at Feng Ling.
"What… have you done to me?" Zǐyān croaked.
Feng Ling smiled faintly, though her eyes were cold. "Since you bark at everyone like a rabid dog, I've given you a leash. Disobey me, and you will know pain unlike anything you've imagined."
Without another glance, she turned and walked back into the room. The old her died the night Mo Tian slaughtered her family. If this realm is filled with demons, then she will be the cruelest of them all.
Feng Ling glanced at Zhǐlán. "Where can I bathe? I need to freshen up."
"This way, Your Majesty," Zhǐlán replied, bowing. She led Feng Ling to a door at the side of the chamber and pushed it open, revealing a steam-filled bathhouse.
After bathing, Feng Ling was dressed in a flowing blue robe. Her hair was coiled into a married bun, but she waved a hand at Yùyáo, whose trembling fingers hovered over a tray of ornaments.
"Not too much jewelry. I dislike it," she said coolly.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Yùyáo murmured.
Zhǐlán returned with lunch, and Feng Ling began to eat, her body still heavy from yesterday's ordeals.
A sharp knock broke the stillness. Qín'ér went to open the door. Someone whispered to her from outside, and when she closed it again, her face had turned pale.
"What is it?" Feng Ling asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Your Majesty… the Emperor says it's time for you to watch your people being punished. If you refuse to go, their beating will be increased to sixty strikes." Qín'ér's voice trembled.
"That bastard won't let me live in peace," she said, sweeping the food from the table with a crash. "If he wants to torment me, I'll make sure his life is far from peaceful."
She rose and strode out. Zhǐlán led her to the punishment hall, where Lan Xue and Lian Huo were tied to a bench. Two guards bowed and began to lash them with the demon whip.
By the twentieth strike, their backs were torn open, robes soaked in blood.
"Enough!" Feng Ling stepped forward, voice sharp as a blade. "Tell Mo Tian—if he punishes them again, I will take my own life."
Far away in the council hall, Mo Tian's lips curled. He could feel the surge of hatred from his little witch. She probably hated him to the bone… and he savored every drop of her fury.
The officials and council exchanged uneasy glances when Mo Tian, usually cold and unreadable, let a faint smirk curl his lips. A ruthless Mo Tian was dangerous—whoever he was thinking about now was truly unfortunate.
In the punishment hall, the guards hesitated, demon whips frozen mid-air. With Feng Ling standing in front of Lan Xue and Lian Huo, shielding them, they didn't dare risk a stray strike. Accidentally injuring her would mean their own execution. Reluctantly, they stepped back and sent someone to report the matter to their master.
When the whips were lowered for good, Feng Ling exhaled in relief. She crouched to comfort the two bloodied maids before turning to the trio trailing behind her.
"Don't follow me. Or else…" Her voice dripped with quiet menace.
The three instantly lowered their heads and obeyed.
Feng Ling wandered alone through the palace grounds until she entered a strange, shadow-filled hall. The air was heavy with dark energy, and the walls were covered with eerie paintings—demons locked in battle with witches and other beings, all engulfed in hellfire.
She halted mid-step, her gaze drawn to a massive painting where dark energy seemed to seep from the canvas. The scene depicted demons and witches locked in a vicious battle, their figures almost alive within the flames.
"Do you know what this is?" a deep, unfamiliar voice asked behind her.
Feng Ling turned slightly.
"It's not just a painting," the voice continued. "Those people are trapped inside—prisoners for eternity."
She turned sharply to face the speaker, her gaze locking onto a young man with jet-black hair and eyes glowing like molten crimson.
Feng Ling instinctively stepped back, her guard up.
"Who are you?"
The man didn't seem to notice her hostility. In a single, fluid step, he stood before her, his presence looming like a shadow. "I can be your friend… or your enemy," he said with a faint, unreadable smile. "My name is Xie Ran—your husband, the Supreme Demon Emperor's elder brother."
Her brows furrowed. "I don't believe you. And if that's true, why do you have a different surname?"
"Because Mo Tian is an illegitimate child," Xie Ran replied, his voice turning sharp. "He bears his mother's surname."
Feng Ling froze. Illegitimate?
"Let me tell you the truth about your husband," he continued, his tone laced with both bitterness and mockery. Then, without waiting for her permission, he recounted Mo Tian's rise to power—how he overthrew his own father, seized the throne, and drove the rest of his family out of the Demon Realm.
Some of his words rang true, others reeked of exaggeration. Feng Ling wasn't a fool; no matter how naïve she might appear, she could sense lies wrapped in truth. But one thing was certain—Xie Ran hated Mo Tian as much as she did.
Maybe she could work with him—after all, he hated Mo Tian as much as she did. She hadn't expected to learn that Mo Tian had overthrown his father, rebelled, and driven his own family from the Demon Realm. Alone and surrounded by enemies, she reminded herself: the enemy of my enemy is my ally.
"Let's work together," Feng Ling said, her voice cold. "You hate Mo Tian, and so do I. Let's make him regret it."
Hatred burned in her eyes, though she missed the flash of cold cunning in Xie Ran's.
"Agreed," he replied smoothly. "We'll meet here once a week to exchange information. Mo Tian is cautious—don't let him suspect you. Spy on him, and bring me whatever you find."
"Then it's settled," Feng Ling said.
"I'll see you in a week, Your Highness," Xie Ran replied with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"No need to call me Your Highness. Just call me 'Princess,'" Feng Ling said, her tone calm yet firm.
"In that case, I'll take my leave." She turned and walked away without a backward glance.
The moment she disappeared from sight, a shadowy figure emerged behind Xie Ran.
"Master, do you think she'll take the bait?" the figure asked.
Xie Ran's lips twisted into a cold smile. "She's nothing but a foolish witch. What can she possibly do? As long as she brings me the information I need, she serves her purpose."
His voice dropped, each word cutting like a blade. "Find out everything about her past. My brother wouldn't marry a witch without a reason—she must serve some purpose.
"And that former fiancé of hers—keep him under close watch. Now that we have something on him, he'll obey our every word. Keep him under control, and when she finally realizes I've been using her… he'll be the perfect weapon to threaten her with."