The Crazy Fox Demon Devours My Heart - Chapter 2

Xinglan Kingdom, Imperial Palace.

Within the deep palace walls, snowflakes fluttered down in silence.

On the thick blanket of pure white snow knelt a frail and slender woman.

She wore crimson garments, like a solitary red plum blossom blooming proudly amidst the snow.

Her hands, red from the cold, held tightly to the imperial decree just bestowed upon her.

Her back remained straight and unyielding, as she stubbornly knelt.

In such bitter cold, her thin body was gradually losing warmth, stiffening with pain, yet she refused to leave.

At the gates, the eunuch on duty rubbed his hands together against the chill, stooping slightly as he tried to persuade her.

“Your Highness, why put yourself through this? The decree has already been issued—why trouble His Majesty further?”

Qingyu ignored him, her snow-bright eyes fixed angrily on the tightly shut doors of the hall. Her voice rang out again and again:

“Father Emperor, please retract your command!”

The cold wind howled, carrying away her breath.

From within the hall came no response.

Her cries grew hoarse, until her voice broke entirely.

That striking crimson figure finally collapsed into the heavy snow.

As Qingyu fell, the palace before her seemed to twist and blur. Her limbs were so numb she could barely feel them, only faint whispers reaching her ears.

“Is that the princess from the Cold Palace?”

“I heard she’s to be married off to the Demon Clan?”

“A human and a demon wed? That’s no different from walking to her death…”

Snowflakes landed on her delicate face, the sting of ice reviving a shred of awareness.

Her phoenix eyes opened dazedly, their emptiness devoid of light.

In that moment, she truly wished she could die here, buried in the purest snow.

But such a wish was far too extravagant in the imperial family. Her father would never allow her death so easily.

The eunuch at the door waved his hand, summoning a few maids to lift her and return her to Qinglan Palace.

When she opened her eyes again, she was in that unfamiliar chamber, buried beneath a mountain of quilts.

The weight of them pressed down so heavily she could hardly breathe.

Just as she tried to speak, she heard Fuyin’s sobbing beside her.

Fuyin’s eyes were swollen red as she clutched her hand, breathing warmth onto it while rubbing gently. “Princess, are you feeling better?”

Qingyu could not speak, so she only nodded faintly, patting Fuyin’s hand to reassure her.

Realizing at last that her princess had lost her voice, Fuyin quickly fetched a small pill from the medicine chest and placed it at her lips.

“Princess, this is for soothing the throat. Please keep it in your mouth.”

At once the bitter taste spread across her tongue, followed by a cool relief sliding down her throat.

Qingyu coughed twice, already feeling less strained. “Fuyin, these quilts are too heavy—remove them.”

Fuyin shook her head, tucking the edges tightly. “The imperial physician ordered that you must be kept warm.”

Qingyu shifted weakly beneath the weight but had no strength. Helpless, she murmured, “Then at least take away two.”

Fuyin hesitated, but seeing her mistress look so small and frail under the pile, she reluctantly complied.

Even so, Qingyu still felt stifled. “More.”

Another two quilts were removed.

“More!”

Two more went aside.

“More!”

One after another, until seven or eight were gone, leaving only two.

These last two Fuyin refused to remove, clutching her tightly. “No more, Princess—you nearly froze to death!”

Finally, Qingyu let out a long sigh of relief, her chest no longer crushed.

She lifted her thin arm to wipe away Fuyin’s tears softly. “If I wasn’t frozen to death, I would have been smothered to death by you.”

Fuyin’s eyes brimmed again as she looked at her reddened, swollen hands.

“Your hands… they’re frostbitten. Let me apply medicine—if it festers, what will we do?”

Qingyu raised her hands before her, lips curling in self-mockery. “Frostbite? Did we not suffer enough of that back in the Cold Palace?”

Fuyin knew her princess was recalling painful memories. With care, she dipped a wooden spatula into ointment and gently spread it over her hands, blowing softly on the inflamed skin.

“Princess, everything will get better.”

Better…

Would it really?

The palace, the title of princess, all the honors her father had granted—were nothing but a bribe, so she might obediently marry into the Demon Clan.

She was only a discarded chess piece from the Cold Palace, a sacrifice deemed worthless.

A human and a demon… laughable. Truly laughable.

Qingyu turned her head away, a tear sliding down her cheek, saying nothing more.

Seeing this, Fuyin sighed and withdrew quietly.

But Qingyu had not yet closed her eyes when the doors burst open with a violent kick.

It was her third sister, Princess Xilan of Xinglan Kingdom.

The emperor’s pampered jewel since childhood, arrogant and domineering.

Her two maids dragged Qingyu out of bed, tossing her onto the floor. The treasured blue hairpin in her arms slipped free.

Dressed only in thin underclothes, Qingyu shivered violently, coughing from the chill.

Once she steadied her breath, she stood and casually pinned up her hair with the fallen hairpin, loose strands framing her face.

Her gaze calm, she asked, “Third Sister, what is the meaning of this?”

Xilan had always despised her indifferent composure. Tilting her chin, her voice shrilled: “You dare call me Third Sister?”

Her upturned eyes narrowed. “I heard you went begging Father Emperor to annul the marriage today?”

Qingyu met the face so like her own and replied evenly, “And what has that to do with you?”

With a sneer, Xilan’s hand shot out to grip Qingyu’s throat.

“Don’t be ungrateful. You should be thankful for the life you have now. Stop dreaming of breaking this marriage—marry that demon properly and don’t ruin my and Second Brother’s plans.”

Plans… So, Father’s decree surely had their hand in it.

Qingyu laughed coldly.

“If Third Sister wishes to marry, then Third Sister should go herself.”

“You insolent wretch!”

Xilan’s grip tightened, as though she would strangle her on the spot.

Leaning close, she smirked at Qingyu’s reddened face, savoring her struggle. “Father dotes on me most—he would never send me to that disgusting demon. Only trash like you could be cast off so easily.

“They call it ‘alliance,’ but you are nothing more than a sacrifice to the Demon Clan.”

Her eyes then caught the blue phoenix hairpin. Snatching it up disdainfully, she sneered.

“Even you dare wear this? A phoenix hairpin is reserved for the empress. Only my mother can wear it. Who do you think you are?”

Qingyu’s brows furrowed, her voice sharp. “Give it back!”

Seeing her anger, Xilan grew amused, tossing the hairpin up and down.

“So it matters to you? Then I’ll never return it.”

Qingyu’s gaze grew colder and colder as she toyed with it.

The angrier she became, the more delighted Xilan felt. Her eyes flickered with mischief as she taunted,

“You grew up in the Cold Palace—such a treasure couldn’t possibly be yours. It must have belonged to the late empress.”

Xilan tapped Qingyu’s cheek with the hairpin, mocking.

“Too bad your pitiful mother died so young, leaving you with nothing. If not, she wouldn’t have been replaced by my mother.”

Her words had barely fallen when her arrogant expression froze.

For somehow, the hairpin was already in Qingyu’s hand, its sharp end pressing against her throat.

One small push and her tender skin would be pierced.

The shift was so sudden that even the maids hadn’t seen how Qingyu had taken it back. Their eyes widened in shock.

Xilan dared not move, though her mouth still threatened: “If you hurt me, Father and Brother will kill you!”

Qingyu chuckled low, her tone drawn out.

“Kill me? I’d welcome it. But perhaps you’ve forgotten—the marriage pact between humans and demons is sealed. If I die… who then will go in my place?”

Her lips brushed near Xilan’s ear, her voice slow and dangerous.

“After all… humans have more than one princess.”

Xilan paled, fearing she might truly carry through. Her pride shattered.

“Elder Sister… I was only joking. Please, let me go.”

The maids chimed in desperately.

“Yes, Your Highness, the Third Princess is your sister. Please don’t act rashly.”

Qingyu turned her cold gaze on them, her voice cutting.

“When you dragged me from my bed, did you treat me as your princess then?”

“Kneel!”

Terrified by her sudden authority, their legs buckled beneath them.

“Slap each other.”

Hesitating, they glanced at one another. Seeing the princess was not jesting, they began weakly patting each other’s cheeks.

But soon, resentment flared, and their blows grew harder, until both faces swelled grotesquely.

Xilan scowled. “By what right do you punish my maids?”

Qingyu’s eyes narrowed on her slender neck, murder flashing within.

The hairpin in her hand could easily end a life with the slightest force.

Yet this was her mother’s last keepsake—she would not soil it with bl00d.

After driving them all out, Qingyu collapsed against the window, every ounce of strength drained.

The cold wind lifted her dark hair and crimson robes, fluttering wildly.

Her gaze fixed far into the distance, her nails digging bloody marks into the window frame as she whispered:

“Mother, I will never marry a demon. I will never let them have their way.”