The Crazy Fox Demon Devours My Heart - Chapter 1
Inside the bridal chamber, lit bright with festive red, a young woman leaned weakly against the wooden bed.
Her breath was still ragged. The vivid crimson of her wedding gown made her pale, snow-white skin seem all the more strikingly beautiful.
But the long struggle had drained her strength completely. The phoenix crown on her head was unbearably heavy, forcing her head to tilt to the side. Her wrists, tightly bound, were rubbed raw and red.
A bride should have been filled with joy and expectation—but her tightly furrowed brows and bound limbs made it clear she was not meant to be here.
Today was the grand wedding of the Fox Clan’s young master. She had hidden herself among the crowd, pretending to help, waiting for a chance to slip away.
But when a steward ordered her to fetch something, she had no excuse to refuse. On her way, when she reached a deserted corner, someone struck her from behind.
Half-conscious, she had been controlled and forced onto the wedding dais, made to bow to heaven and earth, and then carried into the bridal chamber.
Who wanted to harm her?
She thought hard. For someone to silently abduct her, change her clothes into this phoenix crown and scarlet gown, and even press her down to complete the marriage rites… who could have the power to do such a thing? And where had the real bride gone?
The truth loomed before her, terrifying in its implications.
The dragon-and-phoenix candles at the window had already burned a third of the way down. Outside, the noisy voices of the wedding guests were fading.
She couldn’t delay any longer.
Qingyu crawled and hopped to the candle flames. The red wax dripped like tears.
The ropes at her wrists blackened, frayed, and finally snapped—burning her pale skin in the process. Cold sweat ran down her face, slid past her tightly clenched teeth, and dripped to the ground in round stains.
The ropes fell loose. Qingyu trembled with pain but wasted no time. She freed her feet and ran for the door.
But it was too late. Footsteps approached outside. A tall shadow would push the door open any moment.
There was nowhere left to hide.
The door creaked open.
The matron’s smiling face froze instantly. She looked left and right in the empty room, at a loss.
The bridal bed was vacant, the embroidered quilt neatly folded.
Had the bride escaped?
The attendants exchanged uneasy glances but dared not voice their thoughts.
Only the matron stepped forward and bowed respectfully to the tall figure at the door.
“Young Master, what do we do about this…?”
“Leave. All of you. No one stays.”
His cold voice cut through the air. No one dared linger a second longer. They bowed their heads and retreated in silence.
Only once they were far away did two little maids whisper nervously:
“Where’s the bride?”
“Could she have run away because she’s scared of our young master…?”
Before they could finish, the matron hissed at them to shut up. “Keep your tongues, unless you want to lose them!”
The girls blanched and fell silent. Everyone knew the young master’s temper these last years had grown cruel and unpredictable. His methods were sharp and merciless. Though his face was beautiful, his nature was far from gentle. No wonder a girl would be terrified.
Still, how had a mere maiden escaped from such heavily guarded grounds? If she couldn’t be found, the master’s wrath might well consume them all.
The matron’s worry deepened. She clutched her kerchief tightly and hurried her steps.
Inside the bridal chamber.
The man’s expression was blank as his gaze fell on the blazing dragon-and-phoenix candles. At his feet lay the severed ropes.
After a long silence, he walked to the table, sat down, and caressed a cup of nuptial wine. His voice was devoid of emotion.
“Wife, will you not come out to drink the wedding toast with me?”
Behind the bed curtains, Qingyu crouched, clutching her wounded hands, not daring to breathe. Her heart pounded wildly, dizzying her.
She mustn’t reveal herself. As long as the marriage was not yet consummated, there was still hope.
The room stayed quiet for a long time. Then—footsteps. Slow, steady, unhurried, each one pressing down on her nerves.
They stopped right outside the bed curtains.
The red veil trembled slightly. No one inside.
The man’s lips curled into a smile, a low laugh slipping out, tinged with madness.
“Wife, do you truly not wish to see me?”
“But I… have missed you, day and night.”
His long, slender fingers grasped the red veil, pulling it close, inhaling deeply as if it carried the most intoxicating scent in the world.
Under the bed, Qingyu curled up like a shrimp, pressing down on her hammering heart, praying he would not find her.
But the footsteps resumed, moving to the bedside. A pair of gilded boots stopped right in front of her eyes.
He’s found me.
What do I do? What do I do…?
Before she could act, the man vanished from sight.
Still, she didn’t dare move. Only after a long while did she peek out carefully. The room was empty.
The candles had burned halfway down, dimming the chamber’s light.
Qingyu pressed her ear to the door, listening intently. Silence. He had even dismissed the attendants. If she could return to her quarters, change into a maid’s clothes, she might pretend nothing had happened.
She exhaled in relief and stretched her hand to open the door.
Her fingertip had just brushed the wood when a chilling voice exploded beside her ear:
“Wife, where are you going?”
Her eyes widened in terror. She tried to flee, but before she could take a step, she was slammed hard against the door. Pain shot through her chest. One hand was wrenched behind her back, the other pinned tight against the wood, fingers interlaced with his.
A broad, burning chest pressed against her back. No matter how she struggled, she was trapped like a fish on the chopping block.
Her resistance weakened. When she finally stilled, he loosened his hold.
Slowly, Qingyu turned her head—into a face both familiar and strange.
Crimson robes, white hair, silver lashes long and thick like frosted pines. Beneath that frozen exterior lay fathomless depths, cold and dangerous.
He had changed so much. Even his hair had turned white.
Before she could speak, her body was lifted into his arms. She tried to resist, but found she couldn’t move, nor utter a sound.
Fox Yan carried her to the table and sat down, studying her closely.
The wedding gown glittered in the candlelight, as though thousands of stars had been stitched into the crimson fabric. She looked exquisite, a priceless treasure.
Satisfied, Fox Yan brushed the gown gently. The frost in his eyes melted into a smile—but a strange one.
“Do you like it? I made it myself. In the darkness you left me, I bled, drop by drop, to forge these star-stones, then stitched them one by one into this gown.”
“See? They shine. They are as happy as I am.”
His beautiful face leaned close, voice like a devil’s whisper:
“For they know—someday, my world would be lit again. This time… forever.”
Qingyu’s eyes widened in horror. She looked closely at the gown. Countless tiny beads shimmered a deep, almost bloody red. Too red, unnervingly so, against the crimson silk.
He said they were formed from his bl00d. A dreadful premonition coiled in her heart.
She remembered the forbidden tale of the fox clan: of one who, unable to obtain love, chose instead to bind his beloved within himself.
Before she could react, her chin was seized. She winced, meeting eyes gone scarlet with madness.
He raised the nuptial cup, drained it, then lifted the other and forced it to her lips. Before she realized, the wine burned down her throat, choking her. Her rouge smeared, her beauty turned disheveled.
He gathered her against his chest, patting her back with deceptive gentleness, like soothing a child.
Then, suddenly, he crushed her in an unbreakable embrace, entwining her like a pair of mandarin ducks.
At her ear, he sang softly—the old lullaby she once sang to him.
The beads on the gown began to glow hot, flickering red, brighter and brighter, as though something inside them strained to break free.
The candlelight dimmed. Only a room of bl00d-red light remained.
Threads of bl00d unraveled from the gown, writhing like serpents, weaving a cocoon.
As his arms tightened, Qingyu’s breath failed. Her head tilted back in agony as the sound of countless threads filled her ears.
She realized with horror they were being bound together.
The bl00d-threads cut into her flesh and bone, pain like a thousand blades. Her vision bled into endless red.
She finally understood his intent. Terror unlike any she had ever known surged through her.
She screamed silently, tears brimming, desperate to explain—but no sound came out.
The bl00d-threads tightened further, binding her until she could endure no more.
And at last, she lost consciousness.