How to Raise a Crazy Beautiful Snake Demon - Chapter 4

The night was utterly absurd.

The mountains of Changming were silent, devoid of even the chirping of insects or birds, leaving only Ji Qingwu and the female voice in her mind to face each other. She watched helplessly as the white serpent coiled around her, used her, until the stars reversed their course and the moonlight faded.

Ji Qingwu’s arm had long passed the stage of numbness and soreness, nearly losing all sensation, yet it continued to serve as a tool.

Only when the white serpent finally lost its strength, going limp and slipping from her hand, did it sink into the water as if completely unconscious.

A hint of indigo dawn appeared on the horizon. Ji Qingwu remained kneeling by the water’s edge, one hand submerged, motionless for a long while.

She flexed her stiff fingers, confirming the serpent was no longer in her grasp, before carefully withdrawing her hand.

With a splash, her pale palm emerged, sending ripples across the water that soaked into her robes.

This was the tool the white serpent had used all night.

Catching a glimpse of faint bruises, she couldn’t bear to look any longer and tucked her hand behind her back. With her other hand, she gestured toward the spring.

The small serpent’s body floated up, guided by her spiritual energy, and settled quietly on the rocky shore—pale and slender, its wounds no longer glowing red. Water droplets rolled off its dulled scales as it lay there, lifeless as a slender willow leaf.

Ji Qingwu had already cycled through fury, humiliation, regret, and grief. After a night of chaotic thoughts, she felt nothing but numbness. All she wanted now was to know if the lust poison had been resolved.

And—was the white serpent still alive?

The female voice in her mind had long vanished. Pressing a hand to her throbbing forehead, Ji Qingwu felt only a splitting headache.

She truly couldn’t understand this serpent’s logic! How had it even occurred to it to use her fingers to… pleasure itself! Just that morning, they had been enemies—yet it had the audacity to use its adversary’s hand as a tool!

And yet, it hadn’t feared her attacking it in its vulnerable, impassioned state. All night, it had remained completely defenseless.

Was it trust, or contempt? Given the serpent’s wicked nature, Ji Qingwu suspected the latter.

Her used hand still ached faintly, certain areas lingering with an odd, unwashed stickiness that now felt cold.

Glancing at the white serpent lying motionless on the rock, her face burned again. After a long pause, she silently tore off a soaked corner of her skirt and wrapped the serpent in it.

Through the damp fabric, her fingertips brushed against the serpent’s soft belly, making her recoil as if shocked. She cradled it gingerly in her palms instead.

She considered washing her hands in the spring, but then realized the water was likely tainted with the serpent’s fluids… Blushing, she cast a cleansing spell on herself. A flash of spiritual light later, she was clean and refreshed.

Thankfully, this was a world of cultivation—she never wanted to touch that spring again.

After cleaning herself, she cast the same spell on the serpent.

Then, with her still-aching hands, she picked up the bundled serpent and used a spatial-shortening technique, stepping directly back into her tiled house.

She searched the barren room until she found a wooden bowl, just large enough to coil the serpent inside. Placing it on the table, she finally let out a breath.

Throughout the entire process, the white serpent remained limp and motionless, its gaze unfocused, making it impossible to tell whether it was alive or dead.

“Hey? Are you still alive?”

Ji Qingwu poked the serpent’s tail with her fingertip. A small section of white tail peeked out from the dark green cloth bundle—wherever she prodded, the tail moved accordingly.

Seeing no reaction from the serpent, Ji Qingwu grew bolder. Her fingers trailed upward along the cloth, parting the fabric to reveal the serpent’s flat, triangular head.

Those bl00d-red eyes now lacked any vitality, the deep crimson pupils fixed downward, a stark contrast to the piercing ruby glare it had once directed at her.

Ji Qingwu nudged the serpent’s head with her fingertip—left, right, tilting its chin upward—yet the serpent remained completely unresponsive, utterly pliant.

In this state, it was like a long strip of soft candy, malleable to any whim.

Growing more playful, Ji Qingwu stroked its scales, brushed the fleshy protrusions near its mouth, and then—boldly—lifted its tail, tying the slender tip into a knot.

Ah! This was too fun! It actually worked!

Unable to help herself, Ji Qingwu burst into laughter, feeling as though all the chaotic, humiliating, and bizarre memories from the previous night could be cast aside. Right now, playing with the serpent was the priority.

She was taking advantage of its vulnerability—shamelessly, gleefully so!

Just as Ji Qingwu attempted to tie a second knot in the serpent’s tail, she suddenly felt the once-pliant “candy” stiffen, resisting her pull.

She tugged twice before realizing something was wrong. Turning her head, she saw—

The little white serpent had awakened. Its pupils sharpened, those beautiful gem-like eyes locking onto her actions. In an instant, fury erupted. Baring its icy fangs, it lunged with a vicious snap!

Ji Qingwu jerked her hand back, a sharp inhale escaping her lips at the sting.

“Mm…”

The serpent’s fangs had barely grazed her skin. But upon seeing the mottled bruises and welts crisscrossing her hand—the vivid marks from last night’s entanglement, the swollen, ambiguous bite marks—

For some reason, its movement faltered. The fangs touched her skin but did not sink in.

Instead, they hovered there, neither retreating nor biting down.

The serpent’s teeth were cold, the fine points scraping against her fingers, tracing the sensitive creases left by injury. Every inch of contact sent tremors through her entire hand, like wildfire licking at her nerves, burning hotter with each second.

Memories of last night’s madness flooded back. Ji Qingwu, mortified, quickly withdrew her hand, hiding it in the wide sleeve of her robe.

The serpent lifted its head slightly, still baring its fangs, its wild, predatory glare fixed on her as if assessing her state.

Ji Qingwu knew her face was flushed. She tried to speak, but her voice came out oddly high-pitched.

“You’re awake… ahem.”

The sound was embarrassingly strange, as if she’d been caught in some unspeakable act. She cleared her throat hastily.

The serpent’s gaze slowly shifted away from her, landing instead on its own tail.

The tail had been tied into a bow, its white scales glinting like a fresh plastic toy meant for snowy landscapes—one that even sparkled.

This was the result of Ji Qingwu’s opportunistic mischief.

The serpent looked at its tail, then back at Ji Qingwu, before very deliberately—and dangerously—flicking its tongue.

The message was clear: Untie this. Now.

Ji Qingwu’s fingers curled slightly as she paused, then addressed the little white snake in a composed and dignified voice:

“This was unintentional on my part, with absolutely no malice. Please believe me.”

The small serpent remained motionless, though its pupils contracted slightly, revealing a hint of lively mockery.

To untie the knot would require both hands. As Ji Qingwu extended hers, the sight of the blue-purple marks brought another wave of shame.

With a thought, spiritual energy flowed, enveloping her hand in a gentle white light. When the glow dissipated moments later, her skin was completely restored without a trace.

Ji Qingwu exhaled in relief, her tight throat finally relaxing.

Working carefully with both hands to undo the bow, she couldn’t help wondering: Could it untie itself if I didn’t help? How would it manage without hands?

Suppressing these uncharacteristic thoughts to maintain her persona made her increasingly uncomfortable, causing her fingers to fumble until she accidentally tugged at a wound.

The white snake suddenly hissed, its forked tongue flicking against the back of Ji Qingwu’s hand—an oddly warm contact that made her gasp in turn.

How strange… After last night, every touch from this serpent felt like… a spark about to ignite against her skin.

Finally freeing the tangled tail, she laid the scarred appendage smoothly in the wooden basin. The little snake visibly relaxed, its tail swaying gently.

Ji Qingwu turned her face away to hide her faint blush, the atmosphere growing increasingly awkward.

Perhaps it was time for small talk to ease tensions?

Maintaining her senior sister persona, she asked coolly:

“Where did you contract this… poison?”

The serpent turned its flat triangular head, resting it on the basin’s edge as crimson eyes fixed on her. Its tail tip swayed rhythmically above the water, as if studying Ji Qingwu’s current state.

That cold, amused gaze made her deeply uneasy.

No wonder the original story portrayed this as a dark heroine—ordinary people would struggle sharing space with this creature that seemed ready to suddenly strike and devour someone whole, leaving no bones behind.

Changing tactics, Ji Qingwu tried another approach:

“Given your severe injuries, leaving soon seems unlikely. What… are your plans?”

The snake flicked its tongue dismissively, its tail movements quickening with apparent irritation.

Interpreting its reaction, Ji Qingwu ventured:

“You wish to recuperate here?”

Neither nodding nor shaking its head, the serpent simply stared deep into Ji Qingwu’s pupils with those profound crimson eyes—as if probing past her heart to uncover her truest thoughts.

Ji Qingwu continued:

“Changming Mountain is my cultivation ground, rarely visited by outsiders. I’ll offer sanctuary until you heal, then ensure your safe departure. In exchange, we consider past grievances settled—no resentment toward me or Yuqing Sect, and no returning after leaving. Do you accept?”

The white snake’s inscrutable gaze reflected Ji Qingwu’s face like dark mirrors, perfectly concealing whatever thoughts might lie behind them.

Ji Qingwu waited calmly for its response—this was, after all, a minor negotiation.

If this negotiation had taken place from the very beginning, Ji Qingwu would have been at a disadvantage from the start—after all, it was her trap that harmed the white snake, and the snake would surely demand retribution.

But now… after last night’s absurd events, a peculiar balance had somehow been struck between Ji Qingwu and the white snake.

She had lured it into the trap, yet she also detoxified it. Everything was even now, placing them on equal footing for a fair and impartial negotiation.

Ji Qingwu stared at the little white snake, and the snake stared back at her. Both could tell the other was intelligent (or in the snake’s case, clever).

And then there was that night of intimacy… It was strange, so strange. Just locking eyes felt like tiny electric currents crackling between them, yet neither was willing to look away.

Neither wanted to admit defeat.

The little white snake’s tail hovered motionless in the air, while a strand of Ji Qingwu’s hair fell across the corner of her eye, yet she made no move to brush it aside.

After what felt like an eternity, the little white snake flicked its tongue, and once again, that familiar, melodious female voice echoed in Ji Qingwu’s mind:

“Fine.”

Ji Qingwu’s tension instantly eased. It had agreed! This meant she had broken free from the plot’s control and probably wouldn’t die!

But before she could rejoice, the voice continued:

“But if you neglect me or harbor ill intentions, I will skin you alive, crush your bones, and scatter your ashes to the wind.”

Ji Qingwu:

“…”

The voice let out another enchanting laugh, light and musical. When the laughter faded, it spoke again, languid and seductive:

“You served me well last night. Now, come here and give me a massage.”