When Destiny Brings the Demon

The winter that year was exceptionally cold. Several southern counties had been hit by heavy snow since the onset of winter, and the unusually frigid weather made life difficult for the common people. Without adequate clothing or charcoal to ward off the cold, deaths from freezing soon began to occur.

At first, it was only homeless beggars on the streets, frozen like blackened stones by the roadside. Then, it spread to remote villages, slums, and the weak—elderly and children. Because this cold wave had struck so suddenly, and the death toll rose too quickly, local officials dared not report it. They forcibly buried the frozen corpses and forbade anyone from leaving their registered residences.

Thus, the disaster initially went unnoticed by the Yan capital. By the time the news could no longer be suppressed and spread to the court, the ministers hurried to the palace to seek the Emperor’s counsel, only to find that His Majesty was not in the palace at all. He was always like this—coming and going as he pleased. But now it had grown even more outrageous; not even a whisper of his whereabouts had been heard.

The palace currently only had a young prince, sitting on the chair Sima Jiao usually occupied, swinging his legs and watching them with an innocent expression.

The ministers: The kingdom is doomed! It’s surely doomed!

They inwardly condemned and denounced the Emperor, lamented bitterly, then gathered to discuss how to handle this once-in-a-century snow disaster. Since the Emperor never bothered with such matters anyway, they might as well handle it themselves.

But then another problem arose—not all officials were selfless. Everyone had their own opinions, and soon they were entangled in endless bickering.

While they squabbled, the Emperor and his imperial consort were thousands of miles away in Nanming County—the very "disaster-stricken area" that had sparked their debate.

A couple of days earlier, Liao Tingyan, bored in the palace, noticed that while the Yan capital showed no signs of snow, the southern regions were gripped by an oppressive chill. On a whim, she decided she wanted to see the snow. Having spent many years in the immortal cultivation realm, she hadn’t seen heavy snowfall in a long time and missed it. So, after some discussion, she took the Emperor on a flying spiritual artifact to Nanming County to admire the snow.

The endless white snow and leaden-gray skies had transformed this graceful southern county into a snowy wilderness. Though the scenery was indeed beautiful, Liao Tingyan frowned after just a few glances.

Sometimes, having too high a cultivation level was not a good thing. Her perception was so sharp that she could see through the layers of snow to the frozen corpses beneath. When she expanded her divine sense further, she could even detect lingering resentment from the dead.

Liao Tingyan lost all interest in admiring the snow. The change in her expression caught Sima Jiao’s attention. The two stood atop a city tower in Nanming County, with Sima Jiao draped in a black fox fur cloak. His warm fingers brushed against Liao Tingyan’s cheek, wiping away a snowflake that had landed there.

“What’s wrong? Isn’t the snow beautiful?”

“A lot of people have died here,” Liao Tingyan said, holding three of his fingers, her mood dampened.

Sima Jiao remained expressionless. “In that case, let’s go somewhere without dead bodies to see the snow.”

Liao Tingyan: “…” She had forgotten—this ancestor had once been a figure who could summon storms of bloodshed with a wave of his hand in the cultivation world. He didn’t care about such things.

Liao Tingyan rephrased, “Seeing so many dead here makes me uncomfortable.”

Only then did Sima Jiao’s brow twitch slightly. “Then we’ll deal with it.”Liao Tingyan pondered for a moment before looking up at the sky, where something faintly flickered. Suddenly, she waved her hand, sending a surge of spiritual energy soaring into the clouds, dispersing the icy snow-laden formations. The sky brightened considerably, and for the first time in a month, a trace of sunlight appeared over the gloomy land.

She heard distant thunder but paid it no mind, merely glancing at Sima Jiao. Ever since obtaining the spirit fire, every time she did something, thunder would rumble. But now that she had the spirit fire, she no longer feared the sound of thunder.

It was as if Sima Jiao had given her not just the spirit fire but also a part of his essence, making her less afraid of this world.

"Not just Nanming County—the cold front stretches all the way south. Even if I disperse it now, it’ll gather again soon enough." Liao Tingyan decided to summon the demon generals to help. After all, saving the world was exhausting work for one person alone—she needed hands.

She and Sima Jiao settled into an estate in the outskirts of Nanming County, nestled in the Congjing Mountains. The snow-covered forests glittered under the sunlight, the thick layers yet to melt. The clear, bright scenery lifted Liao Tingyan’s spirits slightly.

The demon generals previously stationed in the royal capital of Yancheng soon arrived, bewildered as they received their orders—clearing snow and aiding disaster relief.

A demon cultivator protested, "We… we’re demon cultivators!"

Demon General Wei’e bared his teeth menacingly. "Yeah, I remember that too, but the Demon Lord seems to have forgotten! Why don’t you go remind her?!"

The demon cultivator’s eyes darted around. "Are we really supposed to save these mortals? So many have already died—the Demon Lord must’ve just said it offhand. Why don’t we—"

Demon General Wei’e instantly adopted a fiercely loyal expression, raising his hand. "Men! This one is defying the Demon Lord’s orders. Tie him up and take him to her!"

The demon cultivator: "!!!"

And thus, one demon cultivator who tried to secretly gather corpse-refining materials while feigning compliance was burned to ashes.

The demon generals, now accompanied by thoroughly cowed demon cultivators, dispersed to the hardest-hit counties to drive away the cold front and manually halt the snowfall. The task wasn’t particularly difficult, just tedious. After completing their work and receiving the Demon Lord’s approval, the demon generals left in relief.

Demon General Wei’e was the fastest. As he prepared to leave after meeting the Demon Lord, he happened to cross paths with Sima Jiao in the corridor. During the former Demon Lord’s reign over the Demon Realm, the mere sight of flames had sent shivers down everyone’s spines—Wei’e included. He had never encountered a ruler so powerful and ruthless, one who had nearly scared him to death on multiple occasions. Even now, as a mere mortal, Sima Jiao instinctively filled Wei’e with dread.

Holding his breath, Wei’e stood aside, hoping the formidable figure would pass by on his own. He can’t even see me now, Wei’e reassured himself inwardly.

"Wei’e."

The demon general froze, meeting Sima Jiao’s gaze as the hairs on his back stood on end. He saw me! He saw me!

Only after Sima Jiao had walked away did Wei’e snap out of his daze, recalling what had been said—"Bring the snow to Congjing Mountain."

That was all. Then Sima Jiao had simply moved on.

Wei’e suddenly slapped his hands together in realization. Ah! The former Demon Lord—he actually remembered my name! A surge of pride and honor swelled within him.However, what did "bring snow to Zongjing Mountain" mean? Zongjing Mountain referred to this very range of peaks. Did the old man want a heavy snowfall here? The current Demon Lord wanted the snow to stop, while the former Demon Lord wanted it to snow... Hmm, did he know too much? Was he in trouble?

One of his subordinates, upon hearing this, shook his head. "General, do you remember the former Demon Lord's time in the Demon Realm? He would give his dao companion whatever she wanted, and even if she didn’t ask, he’d seek out things she liked for her. Doesn’t this current approach seem familiar? In my opinion, either our current Demon Lord wants to see snow, or the former Demon Lord wanted to watch it with his dao companion!"

Wei E clicked his tongue. "Tsk, dao companions are such a hassle!"

After grumbling a little, he obediently set to work, driving the cold front and snow clouds to this desolate, uninhabited mountain forest, creating an artificial snowfall for the two masters in the villa.

Liao Tingyan was meeting with Hongluo, who occasionally came from the Demon Realm to visit her, bringing along a heap of specialties from Clear Valley Heaven to improve Liao Tingyan’s daily life.

The moment Hongluo arrived, she saw Liao Tingyan busily directing the demon generals around. She couldn’t understand it. "What are you doing? Why bother managing these trivial matters when you have nothing better to do?" As a native demon cultivator, she found Liao Tingyan’s behavior baffling.

Liao Tingyan didn’t explain much, simply saying, "Maybe because, in the end, I’m just a mortal."

Hongluo rolled her eyes. "With your cultivation level, you’re calling yourself a mortal?"

But even with high cultivation, if one’s heart remains that of a mortal, then they truly are one. Perhaps this was why she could watch the endless conflicts and deaths in the Demon Realm and the World of Cultivation yet couldn’t bear the sight of ordinary people perishing in snowstorms across the mortal lands.

She could accept sacrifices in a turbulent life but couldn’t stand disasters in ordinary lives. This was probably the mindset of all common mortals.

Hongluo didn’t want to dwell on such trivial matters either. "Fine, if you want to do this, go ahead. They’re just ordinary people anyway."

It was then that Liao Tingyan noticed the snow falling outside. She froze for a moment before closing her eyes briefly, her spiritual sense confirming that the snow was limited to this very mountain forest—only within her line of sight.

The snow on the pine forest at the back mountain hadn’t fully melted yet, and with this heavy snowfall, the pristine white world would likely last for a long time.

Liao Tingyan opened the window wide, letting the swirling snowflakes drift inside, carrying away the warmth of the room. She had come here to see the snow, and only one person knew that.

Hongluo was just talking about Sima Jiao. "It’s been over half a year since you joined him. How much has he remembered? Has he recalled you? How are things between you two now?" As Liao Tingyan’s closest friend, she was always concerned about her friend’s romantic troubles.

After speaking for a while, she realized Liao Tingyan wasn’t answering. Instead, she was gazing at the snow outside with a smile on her face.

Never mind, no need to ask.

Her ears twitched, and she suddenly said quickly, "I’ve said enough. I’ll leave now—see you next time." With that, she leaped out the window and vanished in an instant.

The moment Hongluo left, Sima Jiao walked in. He naturally sat behind Liao Tingyan, wrapping his arms around her as they watched the snow outside together. Liao Tingyan leaned back into his embrace out of habit, her fingers twitching slightly to activate the warmth of the stove in the room. The air around them grew as warm as spring.When heavy snow falls, the world is always exceptionally quiet. For a moment, Liao Tingyan wanted to ask Sima Jiao how much he had remembered. The fact that he had made this snow appear meant he had indeed recalled a great deal.

Yet, in the end, Liao Tingyan didn’t ask. She simply felt at ease.

She had known for a long time that Sima Jiao would eventually remember. After all, he wasn’t truly reincarnated—his soul had merely taken refuge in a new body.

If reincarnation was like dismantling a computer and reassembling its parts into different machines, then his situation was more like a single computer being reinstalled with a new system—one that still retained all its backed-up data. Even if the woman who bore him hadn’t taken the Soul Revival Pill, his memories would have slowly returned. It was just that Liao Tingyan hadn’t known how long it would take.

Truth be told, recovering her own memories might have been even harder. Sima Jiao’s memories naturally resurfaced as he grew older, whereas she had to endure the pain of her Divine Soul to recall what had been forcibly erased.

Liao Tingyan had lived her whole life going with the flow. Holding Sima Jiao’s hand, she felt the faint stirrings of spiritual power within him and slowly closed her eyes, drowsy.

Let it be. The more you dwell on things, the more complicated they become.

The heavy snow had stopped in the southern counties, leaving only the untouched Congjing Mountain still blanketed in white.

Sima Jiao and Liao Tingyan strolled through the pine forest on the mountain’s back slope. A red umbrella, now covered in snow, had turned white. A narrow path wound through the woods, leading to a small, wild pavilion halfway up the mountain. With nothing else to do, the two decided to follow the steps upward, treading through the snow in search of the pavilion. It was rare for Liao Tingyan to willingly climb a mountain—usually, she preferred to stay in one place and "hibernate."

As the saying goes, spring brings drowsiness, summer calls for rest, autumn brings fatigue, and winter demands hibernation—such was the life of all wage slaves. Even though Liao Tingyan hadn’t been one for many years, the habit remained unchanged.

The two walked along the mountain path, Sima Jiao slightly ahead. Without an umbrella to shield him, snow settled on his shoulders. Liao Tingyan lagged a step behind, holding an umbrella to keep herself dry. They moved forward like this, one after the other. Liao Tingyan twirled her umbrella, sending snow cascading onto Sima Jiao’s fox-fur cloak, which he shook off with a light flick.

He glanced back at her, raising an eyebrow, then continued walking at a leisurely pace, unfazed by her mischief.

The wild pavilion atop the mountain was desolate and dilapidated, nearly buried in snow. After circling it, the two wandered to a withered tree beside the pavilion. Sima Jiao reached out and shook a branch, sending snow tumbling onto Liao Tingyan’s head—just as she had closed her umbrella, no longer needing to maintain appearances.

Liao Tingyan: "..."

Before she could retaliate, Sima Jiao snapped off the now snowless branch. He tapped it lightly with his fingers, and in the blink of an eye, buds sprouted and bloomed into delicate pink mountain peach blossoms.

It was the Revival Spell—a simple, ordinary technique.

Liao Tingyan was silent for a moment before accepting the branch, its pink blossoms stark against the snow.

Then Sima Jiao took her hand and led her back.

"I know what you’re afraid of," he said. "But I’ve told you before—as long as I’m here, you have nothing to fear."

Liao Tingyan swayed the out-of-season peach blossom in her hand and thought: What do I have to fear? In this world, the only thing I’ve ever feared is you.

But her Majesty was like this very branch—blooming whenever he pleased, entirely beyond anyone’s control.