A Little First Love Shock for the Demon Lord - Chapter 14
Her chin, clutched tightly, throbbed with sharp pain, as if it might be crushed under Minglou’s grip. His scorching breath brushed against her ear, making Ying Ning tremble uncontrollably.
“Minglou…” Ying Ning forced out his name, her voice trembling.
But her fearful plea failed to awaken him—instead, it only seemed to excite him further.
He loved the sound of her voice, the floral fragrance clinging to her clothes and hair, and even more so, the soft and graceful curves of her body.
A burning heat surged through his veins, an unbearable thirst consuming him. And the spring that could quench it lay right beneath him—within reach.
He let out a low, heavy breath as he pressed closer, nearly his full weight bearing down on her.
Ying Ning was suffocating under the pressure. As Minglou’s lips neared hers, she finally steeled herself.
Without hesitation, she reached for the divine talisman at her waist and, in one swift motion, slammed it hard against Minglou’s head.
She had struck with all her might. A red mark bloomed on his temple.
With a grunt of pain, Minglou blinked in confusion and loosened his grip on her chin, his dazed gaze flickering.
Seizing that moment, Ying Ning smashed the talisman to the ground.
She had two plans: either shatter the talisman and summon her brother to rescue her, or knock Minglou out with it.
But she quickly realized the first plan wouldn’t work—the talisman had suddenly become inexplicably sturdy. She struck it repeatedly, but not even a crack appeared. With no other choice, she pinned her hopes on plan two.
Clutching the talisman, she charged at Minglou again. She clutched her head and dodged, while she dragged her injured leg across the floor in pursuit, relentlessly forcing him into a corner.
Just as she raised the talisman for another strike, she heard him speak, weakly:
“Enough… One more hit and I’ll really die.”
Ying Ning didn’t lower her hand, eyeing him warily. “You’re sober now?”
Minglou leaned back against the wall, his voice hoarse. After a pause, he looked up at her with dark eyes—now free of the crimson glow. “I woke up with the first hit.”
Ying Ning bit her lip, feeling a little guilty. “You looked so terrifying just now. I had no choice… But you should’ve said something. I would’ve stopped.”
Minglou gave a dry reply. “You didn’t exactly give me the chance to speak.”
She gave an embarrassed chuckle—she had struck quickly and with precision. Years of chopping wood had trained her well.
Coming back to her senses, she said hurriedly, “I’ll go find the village doctor to treat you.”
She started to rise when Minglou stopped her. “Ying Ning.”
She paused and looked at him, puzzled.
“The village doctor… can’t heal me,” he said with effort.
Ying Ning’s expression grew anxious. “Then what should I do?”
He still looked deathly pale. Lifting his ink-dark lashes, his bloodless lips parted weakly:
“Just stay here. Don’t leave me.”
Ying Ning silently looked at him, giving no reply.
A bitter laugh rumbled from Minglou’s throat. “What? Afraid I’ll go mad again…”
Before he could finish, Ying Ning had already moved to sit beside him, their shoulders touching as they leaned against the wall.
The clear night sky was dustless, the moon like silver. Silence fell.
It wasn’t fear that kept her quiet. It was that moment just now—when Minglou hadn’t referred to himself with the usual grandiose “this lord.” For an instant, it felt like he had shown her his true self.
The night wind brushed past as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear.
After a long pause, she finally answered.
“I won’t leave.”
Those soft, simple words gave Minglou a breath of air through the suffocating haze in his chest.
He couldn’t help but ask, “Aren’t you afraid?”
Ying Ning shook her head. “I know that wasn’t really you. I’m just glad you came back to your senses.”
“What if that was the real me?” he asked again.
She hesitated for a moment before replying, “I don’t know why, but I just don’t believe you’d hurt me. But if you do end up doing something truly awful to me, I’ll hate you. I’ll want revenge. And I’ll hate myself too—for trusting you.”
She looked up at the soft moonlight and whispered,
“Minglou, please don’t make me hate myself. Okay?”
Minglou turned to look at her.
In her eyes, there was a sea—vast enough to hold the moon, the night, and everything she had seen.
But in his, there was only a bottomless abyss, where everything that fell in was consumed by darkness.
Except for her. She had fallen into that darkness—but still, she shone.
After a long silence, Minglou said, “I’m tired. I want to rest. Don’t leave.”
Ying Ning gave a soft “Mm.”
Only then did he slowly close his eyes…
________________________________________
Noon.
The scorching sun hung high. A pair of swallows built a nest under the eaves. The smell of food drifted from the shabby house. A large yellow dog followed the scent to the yard, drooling and barking twice.
Those two barks startled Minglou awake.
His eyes snapped open. He scanned his surroundings warily.
A simple little room—one bed, one table, two chairs. Some odds and ends piled in the corner. Nothing more.
He lay on the bed, covered with a clean quilt. Beside his pillow sat a small bundle of freshly picked wildflowers.
Frowning, he sat up and picked up the flowers, shaking them slightly in confusion.
What’s going on? Why was he here?
Just then, the door creaked open. Ying Ning hobbled in on a wooden crutch. Seeing him awake, she smiled brightly. “You’re finally up.”
Meeting her smile, Minglou suddenly remembered the scene from last night—how he had lost control.
He had touched her face. Nearly kissed her…
Flustered, he averted his gaze.
Seeing him silent and avoiding her eyes, Ying Ning limped over and leaned in, peering closely at his face. “Are you still feeling unwell?”
The moment she drew close, Minglou’s heart began to pound uncontrollably.
He clenched his fists in secret and replied in a low voice, “No… I’m fine. This lord has recovered.”
Only then did Ying Ning relax. “Good. I sat with you outside for a long time last night—almost until dawn. You wouldn’t wake up. I was afraid you’d get even sicker from the cold, so I asked Aunt Li for help. She got two people to help carry you inside.”
Minglou glanced around again and muttered, “This isn’t your room.”
“Of course not,” Ying Ning replied cheerfully. “It’s the little storage room next to mine. I hadn’t used it in a long time. But don’t worry—I cleaned the bed thoroughly.”
Trying to maintain his usual cold expression, Minglou raised the flowers and asked, “What are these?”
Ying Ning glanced at the flowers and smiled. “I promised you flowers in a dream, remember? I had some time just now, so I picked a few from Aunt Li’s yard—for you.”
She remembered.
Minglou looked down at the flowers in his hand, his heart unable to calm.
“I didn’t know what colors you liked, so I chose based on my taste. Do you like them?” she asked.
He rubbed the stem between his fingers, deep in thought.
After a long pause, he finally muttered, “I don’t.”
But Ying Ning didn’t get angry or disappointed. She just smiled brightly again. “That’s okay. Next time, I’ll bring you something you do like.”
Minglou frowned, annoyed by her unshakable cheerfulness.
Then she added gently, “I made food. Let’s eat together.”
Minglou got out of bed with a stern face. After straightening his robes, he regained his usual aloofness and replied coldly, “This lord has no need for food.”
Just as he finished speaking, Ying Ning’s stomach growled loudly.
Embarrassed, she clutched her belly. “Then I’ll eat alone. I’m starving.”
With no response from him, she hobbled out with her crutch.
After she left, Minglou looked down at the flowers in his hand again.
Not everyone’s mouth and heart agree.
________________________________________
When Minglou stepped outside, Ying Ning was sitting at a small table in the yard, biting into a steamed bun.
Across from her sat a woman in her fifties, frowning and scolding her, “Now that the others are gone, Aunt Li can finally speak her mind. Why did you bring home another man? Aren’t you afraid of trouble? Can’t you stop worrying me for once?”
Before Ying Ning could reply, Minglou suddenly appeared, face stormy.
“What do you mean ‘another man’? You’ve brought others home before?” he growled.
His sudden outburst startled both Ying Ning and Aunt Li.
Mouth full, cheeks bulging, Ying Ning was still chewing when Aunt Li cut in first, “Oh, so you’re awake, young man. What’s your name?”
Minglou ignored her and fixed his glare on Ying Ning. “Did you give him flowers too?”
She had just swallowed her bite when Aunt Li interrupted again, “And what’s your relationship with Ah Ning anyway? What does it matter who she’s taken in?”
“Shut up!” Minglou snarled at Aunt Li. “This lord is speaking with her. It’s not your place—”
Before he could finish, Ying Ning jumped up and quickly covered his mouth. “Aunt Li means well. She’s just concerned. Don’t scare her.”
Her touch immediately extinguished his rage.
But Aunt Li’s anger was just getting started.
“Ah Ning! What kind of man did you save? Doesn’t even know how to say thank you, and dares tell me to shut up? I’m old enough to be his elder! What a rude one!”
That did it—Minglou’s anger reignited. He pushed her hand aside and snapped, “This lord has lived for a thousand years! You’ve only lived a few decades—how dare you call yourself my elder!”
Aunt Li stared at him like he’d lost his mind. Then she scoffed, “A thousand years? So what? Only turtles compete over who lives longer!”
Turtle?!
Minglou nearly blacked out from rage. Slowly, he raised a hand, magical energy gathering in his palm. His voice dropped to an icy tone. “This lord is the ruler of the Demon Realm—the most feared being across all six realms. Do you believe I—”
She cut him off without a blink: “Ruler of the Demon Realm? More like the hungriest demon! If you’re so hungry, just eat—why make up fancy titles for it? Hilarious!”
As she spoke, Aunt Li grabbed the large steamed bun from the table and shoved it into Minglou’s hand with a surge of magic. “Take it, take it! I’ve never met anyone as odd as you!”
Minglou stared blankly at the soft white bun in his palm.
Was this really the outcome of what he just said?
While he stood there in a daze, Aunt Li turned to Ying Ning with a serious expression. “This man clearly isn’t right in the head. You should kick this lunatic out today—if you don’t, I’ll find someone to drag him away myself! Don’t let him cause you trouble!”
With that, she stormed off in a huff.
Ying Ning turned back and saw that Minglou was still frozen, eyes fixed on the steamed bun.
She sighed softly—he looked so pitiful.
Aunt Li had never lost a verbal sparring match in the village, and today, worked up over Ying Ning bringing home a strange man, she’d gone all out. Minglou, too, had no patience for such bickering, so Aunt Li didn’t hold back.
Thinking of this, Ying Ning gently explained, “Aunt Li is always like that. She speaks harshly, even to me—but she means well. Last night she even said she’d help find a doctor for you.”
Minglou exhaled, placed the steamed bun back onto the plate, and muttered in a low voice, “Forget it. I won’t bother with a mortal.”
Ying Ning smiled softly, her gaze drifting to the bouquet of flowers still in Minglou’s left hand. She said playfully, “Didn’t you say you didn’t like those flowers? Give them to me, then.”
She reached out, but Minglou tilted his body slightly to avoid her grasp.
“I don’t like them,” he said solemnly, “but since you begged me, I’ll reluctantly accept them.”
Ying Ning blinked, puzzled. She looked from the bouquet to Minglou, scratching her head in confusion.
When had she ever begged him?
While she stood there trying to recall, Minglou calmly watched her, then discreetly slipped the flowers behind his back and cast a small spell to conceal them.
His words might say one thing, but his heart told another story—and his heart always won.
Just as he was about to say something else, a frantic figure suddenly appeared at the entrance to the yard.
Lou Su staggered in, clearly disoriented. The moment he saw Minglou standing in Ying Ning’s courtyard, tears welled up in his eyes.
“Your Majesty!” he cried, arms flinging open as he ran forward in delight.
Just as he was about to embrace him, Minglou coolly raised a hand and pressed it to Lou Su’s face, stopping him in his tracks.
Ying Ning, startled by the stranger’s sudden appearance, asked curiously, “Do you know him?”
“Yeah,” Minglou replied casually, glancing at Lou Su.
But even after just one day apart, Lou Su looked like he’d withered—his cheeks sunken, eyes dull, as if all the life had been drained from him.
Thinking of Zhuzhu, Minglou raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’re not Zhuzhu anymore…”
At the mention of her name, Lou Su’s eyes filled with tears again. “It’s a long story.”
Minglou, unmoved, replied flatly, “Then don’t tell it. I’m not interested.”
Lou Su pouted in grievance, but his attention quickly shifted. His eyes widened in sudden realization as he glanced between Ying Ning and Minglou.
“Your Majesty,” he said with barely contained excitement, “you stayed here last night—under the full moon. Does that mean you and her… you’ve begun spiritual cultivation together?”
The moment the words “spiritual cultivation” left his mouth, Minglou’s scalp prickled. He shot his hand out to clamp Lou Su’s mouth shut.
“Shut up!” he hissed.
But it was too late—Ying Ning had already heard.
She narrowed her eyes at the two suspiciously strange men and asked, “What exactly is spiritual cultivation?”