How to Raise a Crazy Beautiful Snake Demon - Chapter 21

Under the curtain of rain, heaven and earth were connected by a damp, soft scent. The air was warm and stifling, and the flames inside the lanterns could only emit a fuzzy glow, illuminating just a small space, revealing tangled strands of rain that seemed unwilling to part.

When the unusual fragrance reached her, every friction and touch felt amplified. Ji Qingwu stared at that finger and realized her throat was moving, carrying a strange, inexplicable heat.

And Zhu Jiuyin still refused to let go.

She thought she should say something to stop her, but when she opened her mouth, her voice came out startlingly shrill:

“Let… let go…”

The sound was both sharp and soft, making her blush as soon as she heard it. She hurriedly pulled her finger back.

The snake’s tongue remained curled in the air for a long moment, as if savoring the lingering sensation. Then, the white snake chuckled hoarsely and said:

“Tastes good. Sweet.”

She was talking about her finger.

Ji Qingwu felt that her index finger now carried an unusual weight—the sensation of the snake’s tongue clinging to it was too vivid, still faintly lingering.

And then there was the mucus.

A snake’s mucus was different from human saliva—thicker, coating the tip of her finger all the way to the second joint, making it difficult to bend.

Instinctively, Ji Qingwu stretched her hand far into the rain, letting the water wash away the mucus. But as the raindrops splashed against her skin, they only made the presence of the mucus even more noticeable.

The atmosphere was unbearably awkward. Ji Qingwu had no choice but to grasp for something to say:

“Maybe it’s from making mooncakes—I didn’t wash the honey off properly. I’ll rinse it some more.”

Zhu Jiuyin didn’t respond, her gaze dark as she looked up at the sky. Suddenly, she raised her neck and let out a warning hiss toward the horizon.

The sound of flapping wings approached, and a spirit dove descended from the sky—just about to land on Ji Qingwu’s hand when a white figure abruptly snatched it away in its jaws.

“Ah? It’s a message, not a real bird. Don’t bite it to pieces.”

As she spoke, Ji Qingwu rescued the spirit dove, which had already transformed into a slip of paper, from the snake’s mouth. The paper was damp with rain, the writing slightly blurred.

Zhu Jiuyin hissed beside her, her voice dripping with malice:

“Another letter from your little junior sister?”

Ji Qingwu folded the paper after reading it:

“Yes. She sent her wishes for a happy Mid-Autumn Festival.”

It was indeed Song Shirui’s letter, but the contents went far beyond what she had just mentioned. It included pleas for forgiveness for past mistakes, assurances that she understood her senior sister’s lofty ambitions, promises that she was diligently cultivating, and only at the end did she extend her Mid-Autumn Festival greetings—along with hopes to bring mooncakes once Ji Qingwu’s confinement ended. The letter brimmed with a young girl’s fervor.

Truthfully, after clarifying things with Song Shirui before, Ji Qingwu had stopped asking her for favors. This time, for the Mid-Autumn Festival preparations, she had simply listed the materials she needed and sent a spirit dove to another junior sister in charge of logistics, who had withdrawn them directly from the sect’s storage—keeping Song Shirui out of the loop.

First, she genuinely didn’t want Song Shirui barging in with her enthusiasm again. Second, she was considering Zhu Jiuyin’s feelings.

And yet now, Song Shirui had sent another spirit dove—just in time for Zhu Jiuyin to see it. Ji Qingwu pressed her lips together, turning to look at Zhu Jiuyin, unsure what else to say.

Zhu Jiuyin’s expression was indifferent, her sharp eyes glinting red as she hissed mockingly:

“Receiving your junior sister’s blessings must make you very happy, doesn’t it?”

Ji Qingwu:

“It’s fine.”

Zhu Jiuyin stared her down, inching closer until their faces were almost touching:

“When you look at me, are you thinking how much better it would be if I were your junior sister instead, hmm?”

Ji Qingwu furrowed her brows, her expression turning serious as she replied earnestly:

“These baseless accusations of yours are completely unfounded! I’ve said from the beginning that it’s just the two of us spending Mid-Autumn Festival together—no one else is involved!”

Zhu Jiuyin’s face was now so close that her flickering snake tongue nearly brushed against Ji Qingwu’s eyeballs. At this distance, Ji Qingwu could no longer make out Zhu Jiuyin’s features—only a blur of silver-white scales and the occasional flash of dark red tongue, as if threatening to swallow her eyes whole.

Yet Ji Qingwu didn’t retreat, nor did she blink, holding her ground with a tense expression.

Zhu Jiuyin’s voice came out hoarse:

“That’s only because you had no other choice. Given the option, why would you pick a monster like me?… Tell me truthfully—if you have even the slightest reluctance, just say the word and I’ll leave.”

The rain intensified, its drumming on the stone pavement sending up countless droplets that formed a misty veil between them, obscuring both their faces and their hearts in that moment.

After a long silence, Ji Qingwu reached into her robe, rustling fabric as her hand emerged in a fist.

Zhu Jiuyin’s gaze involuntarily dropped to that delicate hand.

Ji Qingwu opened her palm to reveal its contents, murmuring:

“This gift… I started preparing it a week ago, before I even decided to spend the festival with you.”

She looked down at the object, avoiding the white snake’s gaze, unable to hold back:

“I did have choices. I chose you. I truly only wanted to celebrate with you, because… you’re the only one who truly understands… who I really am.”

Only the white serpent had met her after her transmigration, unclouded by the “senior sister” halo. Zhu Jiuyin knew Ji Qingwu herself—not the Jade Pure Sect’s head disciple, nor the prophesied child born to withstand heavenly tribulations for the righteous path.

The one who lived with her, ate with her, got drunk with her, laughed with her, slept beside her—it had always been Zhu Jiuyin, only Zhu Jiuyin.

Resting on her palm was the gift she’d painstakingly crafted for Zhu Jiuyin—a serpent-shaped pendant carved from Tianshan cold jade. The white jade body coiled seductively on a red cord, its eyes set with two tiny but brilliant rubies. From its tail dangled a highly polished black jade fragment on golden thread, swaying beautifully.

Zhu Jiuyin stared motionless at the pendant, utterly speechless.

As awkwardness grew, Ji Qingwu explained:

“I infused this pendant with spiritual energy—it offers protection and suppresses evil qi. The black stone below is part of the spirit jade you gave me. My craftsmanship isn’t great, so if you don’t like—”

Before she could finish, a small white snake head darted forward, swiftly looping the pendant around itself, only to have it catch on the dragon horn hairpin.

With the pendant now hanging awkwardly from her face, Zhu Jiuyin’s crimson eyes mirrored the rubies’ glow—it was impossible to tell which shone brighter. She looked up at Ji Qingwu:

“Knows how to give gifts, but can’t even help put it on properly?”

Ji Qingwu was stunned by her swift movements. Suppressing a laugh at her words, he quickly helped remove her hairband, hung the pendant around her neck, adjusted the cord length, and then replaced the hairband.

“Beautiful!”

Zhu Jiuyin twirled around twice, carefully adjusting her movements to avoid damaging the delicate pendant. She then admired her reflection in a small pond, clearly so pleased that she seemed to float with joy—yet she feigned composure and said:

“Hmm, not bad. You have some skill, servant. I’ll accept it.”

As she spoke, she stood in the rain, turning back to glance at Ji Qingwu with bright, shimmering eyes, her lips curling as if in a smile.

Ji Qingwu smiled back. His efforts these past days hadn’t been in vain.

Zhu Jiuyin gazed at him from afar through the rain and added:

“Not a single word of what you said earlier had better be false!”

Ji Qingwu felt slightly embarrassed. For him, expressing genuine emotions was mortifying, but thankfully, the one before him was just a snake—not a real person—which lessened the shame considerably.

He nodded firmly.

“Of course it’s true.”

The moment the words left his mouth, Zhu Jiuyin’s serpentine tail lightly tapped the ground, and her head suddenly tilted toward the sky.

With her as the center, all the surrounding rain instantly reversed its course, surging upward!

The water returned to the clouds, and the clouds rapidly dispersed, layer by layer, ring by ring, completely retreating from the vicinity of Changming Mountain—then vanishing entirely from the peaks of the Yuqing Sect, revealing a breathtaking sunset and golden-red clouds aflame in the sky.

This was the power of one who commanded nature’s forces. In mere breaths, the rain across the entire sect ceased, replaced by the crisp, fresh air of a clearing sky.

The disciples of the Yuqing Sect had been worrying whether the evening’s festivities would be dampened by the rain. Seeing the downpour suddenly vanish, they couldn’t help but marvel—surely, the heavens had blessed this Mid-Autumn Festival, allowing nature itself to yield for the celebration!

Only Ji Qingwu stared in awe at the fiery clouds.

“Wow… that’s incredible.”

With his current cultivation, he could only shield himself from the rain with a barrier—he had no power to push the storm clouds away from an entire mountain range. This was Zhu Jiuyin flaunting her strength.

Not a speck of dirt remained on Zhu Jiuyin. She stood pristine in the courtyard and beckoned:

“Don’t you have other activities planned? Come on.”

Ji Qingwu walked out with a smile, his white-and-pink rabbit ears bouncing and swaying with each step. To Zhu Jiuyin’s eyes, the sight was utterly mesmerizing.

After all, snakes do love eating rabbits…

The two of them sipped tea, sampled dishes, and indulged in sweet mooncakes of various flavors, pairing them with slightly bitter tea and mildly spicy braised delicacies—pure contentment. Once sated, they took out paper boats with flower lanterns and headed to the mountain stream to release them.

Each boat carried a written wish. Ji Qingwu wrote, “May my sect and I be safe and well.” After a pause, he added beside the word “sect”—”and Zhu Jiuyin too.” As he wrote, he glanced at her.

Zhu Jiuyin, using spiritual energy to control her brush, immediately turned the paper away when she noticed his gaze.

“What’s the matter? Is your wish something shameful?”

“No peeking! It won’t come true if you see it!”

“Hahaha… or is your handwriting just too ugly to show?”

“Insolent servant! You’ll be punished for disrespecting your master later!”

In the end, no punishment came. The two small paper boats, carrying their flickering candles, drifted downstream—bearing their secret wishes to who-knows-where.

But at this very moment, the human and the snake exchanged a knowing smile, as if they had cast off some burden and forged a new unspoken understanding.

After releasing the lanterns, the two returned to the small courtyard. Ji Qingwu waved her hand, and a jar of osmanthus wine appeared on the table, its fragrance intoxicating.

“This wine was specially requested from the keeper of the storeroom. It’s strong and long-lasting—even cultivators can get drunk on it. I wonder if drinking it will make you revert to your true form.”

Ji Qingwu poured two large cups, winking playfully at Zhu Jiuyin.

Zhu Jiuyin used her spiritual energy to lift the cup to her lips and downed the entire thing without hesitation. Instantly, her eyes grew soft and glistening.

“This isn’t strong at all… I could drink ten more cups without getting drunk. You, on the other hand…”

The moon hung high in the sky, a golden disk illuminating the two as they drank cup after cup, until both were thoroughly intoxicated—yet neither wanted to stop.

Ji Qingwu, who rarely indulged so freely, was completely drunk, while Zhu Jiuyin, merely tipsy, mischievously encouraged her to drink more. When Ji Qingwu finally swayed unsteadily, Zhu Jiuyin suddenly slithered up onto her shoulder and whispered into her ear:

“I have a gift for you too.”

Ji Qingwu lifted her head groggily.

“What?”

Zhu Jiuyin flicked her long tail, and her spiritual energy coiled like a translucent serpent, reaching deep into the mountains before swiftly dragging back a massive object, which landed with a heavy thud on the ground.

Ji Qingwu, bleary-eyed, squinted at it.

“Is that… a boat?”

Zhu Jiuyin chuckled low, her voice husky, mature, and laced with drunken allure:

“It’s the grand bed I made for us. Tonight… let’s test it out…”

A bed? Square, with a wooden canopy and intricate carvings… so old-fashioned… Did it even have a thick, soft, high-tech mattress?

As Ji Qingwu blinked in confusion, she suddenly felt the weight on her shoulder disappear, followed by something blocking the light beside her.

She wobbled as she turned her head, her blurred vision catching sight of a thick, smooth, jade-white pillar covered in overlapping, shimmering scales.

Her cheeks burning, she reached out and hugged the white pillar, pressing her face against it.

The layered scales were cool and slightly rough, scraping against her skin in a way that felt oddly pleasant. She couldn’t help but sigh in contentment.

“Mmm… feels good… let’s sleep together…”

As she spoke, she even licked one of the scales lightly.

The pillar trembled faintly.

Something thick coiled around Ji Qingwu’s waist, lifting her dazed and disoriented body onto the ancient bed. She clung tightly to the white serpent’s massive form, as if it were the only anchor in her swirling haze.

A strange, intoxicating fragrance quickly filled the air, and the rest of the world faded from her awareness—leaving only the scent that set her aflame…