How to Raise a Crazy Beautiful Snake Demon - Chapter 13

Ji Qingwu glanced at the window frame. There was no moon tonight. The room was illuminated by luminous pearls, while outside was pitch black, like the depths of a dark lake. Endless spiritual energy surged from all tangible things, pouring into the white snake’s body, but the snake was already on the verge of collapse.

Ji Qingwu immediately expanded her divine sense, using her own body to block the incoming spiritual energy while reaching out with her consciousness to touch the white snake. The moment their senses connected, a sharp pain made her grit her teeth.

The white snake’s mental realm was now sharp and icy, like a wall of cold metal, completely rejecting all external intrusion—even attacking her automatically.

Fortunately, Ji Qingwu possessed dual spiritual roots of water and fire. She channeled the fire element into her divine tendrils, and a scorching thread of consciousness painstakingly melted a tiny crack in that metallic wall.

Inside, there was nothing but hatred and darkness. Yet, she soon sensed a fragile presence—a small, wounded snake, still in its juvenile stage.

In that fleeting glimpse, the snake was pitifully thin, with large but lifeless eyes. Its body was pierced by countless icy blades, like a porcupine made of frozen spikes. Thick, black bl00d oozed endlessly from the wounds, viscous enough to nearly drown the little snake…

A second later, Ji Qingwu’s divine sense was violently expelled!

“Ugh…”

Her chest aching, Ji Qingwu woke with a start, her first instinct to look for Zhu Jiuyin.

Zhu Jiuyin had already risen, her eyes glowing red. After a single glance at Ji Qingwu, she slithered smoothly to the door, flicked her tail, and slipped through the gap, vanishing into the night.

That one glance had been filled with overwhelming complexity—shock, agony, hatred trapped in past memories, confusion about the present… and beneath all those turbulent emotions, a faint trace of gratitude and apology, unmistakably caught by Ji Qingwu.

Dazed for a moment, Ji Qingwu quickly chased after her, calling into the darkness:

“Where are you going?”

As expected, there was no reply. Standing in the chilling autumn wind, Ji Qingwu felt the shadows around her loom ominously, everything unfamiliar—except for the absence of the one snake she knew.

What had Zhu Jiuyin been through? Had she suffered such severe injuries as a juvenile? So severe that they became an inner demon, hidden within her cultivation, harming her from within?

Staring into the darkness, Ji Qingwu couldn’t help but whisper:

“Then… will you come back?”

What if Zhu Jiuyin never returned after leaving this time?

The thought made her heart ache faintly.

The autumn wind was cold, lifting the hem of Ji Qingwu’s cyan robe high behind her, tangling with her hair—

Just as tangled as her thoughts.

She expanded her divine sense, searching everywhere, even enhancing her senses to their limits with spiritual energy, trying to find any trace of Zhu Jiuyin.

But Zhu Jiuyin had clearly concealed her tracks. With higher cultivation, if she didn’t want to be found, conventional methods were useless—no sound, no scent, no trace remained.

However, Ji Qingwu’s original self had been erudite and knew of some obscure tracking spells—though they came at a heavy cost, which was why her past self had never used them.

Now… Ji Qingwu clenched her teeth, thinking of that small snake struggling in the thick, black ooze. With a soft sigh, she finally relented, unable to bear it any longer.

If she didn’t go find Zhu Jiuyin now and allowed her to succumb to demonic cultivation, then the Yuqing Sect would inevitably hunt Zhu Jiuyin down. Everything would return to the original plot—Zhu Jiuyin being pursued, the Yuqing Sect ultimately destroyed… She had to find her.

Ji Qingwu told herself this was for the Yuqing Sect’s survival and to preserve her own life, absolutely not because of any personal feelings.

She formed hand seals, her spiritual power suddenly accelerating. Her hair whipped wildly as her robes billowed violently. The howling wind around her formed a whirlwind, and she stood alone at the eye of the storm, biting her right index finger until it bled.

With her bloody fingertip, she drew an intricate and beautiful water-colored talisman in the air. Bl00d smeared at the corner of her lips like the most vivid rouge. Spiritual power roared as her hair ribbon snapped, her long hair exploding upward. With crimson lips and glistening eyes, she looked more like a demonic cultivator than a righteous one!

Finally, she pushed the talisman forward and whispered:

“Go.”

The Bl00d Oath Tracking Technique was complete.

The surging spiritual power instantly stilled. Ji Qingwu’s robes settled as her hair cascaded past her waist. Before her appeared a faint, translucent line pointing the way.

Taking a steadying breath, Ji Qingwu moved with light, swift steps, following this path only she could see as she flew forward.

Passing countless dark forests, mountains, and cliffs—nearly leaving Changming Mountain’s territory entirely—she finally saw… Zhu Jiuyin?

She wasn’t sure. The snake before her was as thick as a bowl, its massive body stretching three meters long as it repeatedly smashed its head against the cliff!

Was that… Zhu Jiuyin’s true form?

Even from this distance, Ji Qingwu could feel the cliff trembling, pebbles and rocks cascading down. The ground shook violently beneath her feet—proof of the serpent’s terrifying strength.

The enormous white snake seemed in agony, relentlessly battering the cliff and smashing its head against thousand-year-old spirit trees. With each crash, the trees shattered, yet the snake’s head remained unscathed, not a single scale out of place!

Holding her breath, Ji Qingwu was about to approach when a giant spirit bird soared overhead, letting out a piercing shriek.

The white snake raised its head at the sound, tongue flickering. In the next instant—faster than lightning, almost too quick for even Ji Qingwu’s Nascent Soul vision to follow—the bird was clamped in its jaws.

The snake began… torturing it.

The bird was still alive. The snake refused to let it die, instead tearing, pulling, chewing, and shredding every inch of its body. Feathers mixed with bl00d-curdling screams rained down the cliff, painting the brutal scene with a soundtrack of agony…

Ji Qingwu couldn’t breathe. Drowning in the metallic stench of bl00d, she felt suffocated, as if the feathers and gore were coating her skin. Regret crept in—maybe she should just leave.

This wasn’t the Zhu Jiuyin she knew. This was a demonic serpent! Demons and devils had always been two sides of the same coin.

She wanted to retreat, yet her feet remained rooted. Her throat worked silently before the words burst out:

“Zhu Jiuyin! Stop!”

She knew speaking out might provoke the serpent’s attack—she could be next between those fangs—but… she had to call out.

She wanted to know if the Zhu Jiuyin she once knew was still here.

That tiny snake demon who loved good food, loved to sleep, was sometimes haughty and sometimes mischievous—that little snake who used to coil around her finger and sigh—was she still inside that body?

The snake demon stopped moving. The bird was still screaming its lungs out when suddenly, the snake opened its jaws and bit through its throat, ending its suffering.

With the bird clamped in its mouth, the snake didn’t turn around. Its body stiffened, standing motionless in the mountain forest amidst scattered feathers and bloodstains, like a broken wind-up toy. Its scales gleamed white in the darkness.

Ji Qingwu called out again, this time with steadier breath and a gentler voice:

“Zhu Jiuyin… come here.”

The great serpent—Zhu Jiuyin—didn’t react. It simply stood there, unmoving for what felt like an eternity.

And Ji Qingwu waited quietly in the distance. She didn’t force anything, just stood there, waiting. As long as the snake still remembered its name, she held onto hope.

Finally, the snake moved.

Its first motion wasn’t to turn around or slither away—instead, it suddenly deflated like a punctured balloon, shrinking smaller and smaller until it became a slender little snake, no thicker than two fingers, just the right size to coil around one. Then, it vanished into the dark undergrowth.

Ji Qingwu couldn’t see clearly. She raised her hand, conjuring a small flame at her fingertips like a torch, and peered into the darkness, waiting patiently.

Zhu Jiuyin’s tiny serpentine body landed softly in the damp, rotting foliage. All she could see was darkness; all she could smell was bl00d. She flicked out her tongue, tasting the air, following the scent as she slithered forward.

A snake’s vision is poor—everything appears as indistinct blurs—so they rely on scent to navigate. Of course, Zhu Jiuyin recognized Ji Qingwu’s scent. But when she lifted her head, she also saw a fuzzy, golden glow.

She realized Ji Qingwu had lit that flame just for her. She didn’t need to do more than be there, yet she had still raised a light.

In the snake’s senses—both smell and sight—Ji Qingwu was the only source of light. That soft, golden flame became the direction her instincts drove her toward.

She raced toward her without hesitation, just as Ji Qingwu had walked toward her with unwavering resolve.