Just as Zhu Zhaozhao landed, a cold chain suddenly wrapped around her waist, yanking her straight into someone’s arms.

Right in front of a bodhisattva statue, Yi Wulu pinned the soft little bamboo spirit beneath the image of Buddha. He was tall and imposing, clothed in snow-white robes, with features as cool and distant as frost beneath the moon.

“Little bamboo demon, you crossed seven mountains and waded through eight rivers… just to throw yourself into my arms?”

She was held so tightly she couldn’t move. Her cheeks flushed red as her fingers quietly reached into her sleeve for a Soul-Fixing Talisman.

“I’m here to find my fiancé.”

“Say one more word— and I’ll slash you into… a… woven… flower… basket.”

His voice was low and hoarse, tone teasing—like a threat, yet laced with flirtation.

It wasn’t until much later that Yi Wulu discovered the truth—this little demon he kept saying he’d “slash to pieces” was actually the fiancée of his dearly departed friend.

But bro… your fiancée is kinda sweet.

—

She’s a demon—and always knew that demon hunters in this world hated her kind to the bone. That annoying exorcist was no exception—always wearing a stern face, eyes glued to her like he was ready to trap her at any moment.

Yet she could never forget that day.

Blood rain… the stench of death…

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