Chapter 65: Chapter 64
The fourth month of house arrest continued with the slow, predictable rhythm of a perfectly maintained cage.
It was mid-morning. The sunlight filtering through the peach blossoms was warm and golden. Yan Shuo was seated on his heated jade cushion, wearing a soft, loose-fitting white robe. He held a cup of hot water—because tea leaves contained earthly stimulants—and watched his new guard dog work.
A few feet away on the grass, Sesame was currently locked in a life-or-death struggle with a spirit-butterfly.
The Late Core Formation Nether-Realm Shadow Leopard, an apex predator whose ancestors had plunged entire continents into darkness, was wiggling its fluffy backside. Its glowing purple eyes were completely dilated. With a tiny, high-pitched mew, Sesame launched himself into the air, batting wildly at the glowing blue insect with both front paws.
He missed. He landed face-first in the dirt, a dandelion stuck to his nose.
Yan Shuo took a slow sip of his hot water.
"You are an embarrassment to the demonic path," Yan Shuo murmured softly, his dark eyes curving with lazy amusement.
Sesame sneezed the dandelion off his nose, glared at the butterfly, and aggressively went back to sleep in a patch of sunlight. The transition from ancient monster to pampered house cat was now one hundred percent complete.
Behind Yan Shuo, Tantai Zhi was sitting on her knees, humming her usual sweet, off-key melody. She held a comb carved from thousand-year profound-jade. She was gently, methodically running it through Yan Shuo’s long, dark hair.
For the past twenty minutes, it had been incredibly relaxing. But then, the comb hit a tiny, microscopic snag near the very ends of his hair.
Tantai Zhi stopped humming.
The peaceful atmosphere in the courtyard instantly vanished. The temperature dropped a few degrees.
"Husband," Tantai Zhi whispered. Her voice carried the grave, deeply serious tone of a physician delivering a terminal diagnosis.
Yan Shuo didn’t flinch, but his strategic mind immediately went on high alert. What did I do now? Did I breathe too deeply? Did I blink too fast?
"Yes, Zhi’er?" Yan Shuo replied, keeping his voice perfectly calm.
"Your hair," Tantai Zhi said, holding up a single, long strand of his dark hair so she could inspect it against the sunlight. "It has grown entirely too long. It is brushing past your shoulder blades. And look here..."
She pointed to the very tip of the hair.
"There is a split end," she declared, her golden eyes widening in horror. "A split end! Do you know what this means, Husband?!"
Yan Shuo blinked. "That I need a trim?"
"It means your spiritual energy is leaking!" Tantai Zhi cried out, dropping the jade comb onto the grass. She scrambled around to the front of his cushion, grabbing his shoulders. "Hair is an extension of the body’s natural Qi flow! If the ends are split, the energy from the herbal porridge I feed you is just bleeding out into the air! Your Heavenly Dao curse could exploit this weakness!"
Yan Shuo stared at his wife.
He had to admit, her ability to turn basic human grooming into a life-threatening cultivation crisis was truly unparalleled. It was almost impressive.
"I see the danger, Wife," Yan Shuo nodded solemnly, playing along to keep her from panicking. "Perhaps we should ask Miss Su to fetch a pair of scissors from the weaving pavilion?"
"Scissors?" Tantai Zhi looked deeply offended by the word. "Mortal scissors? Husband, mortal steel is full of dirt and iron impurities! If dull mortal metal touches your fragile hair, the rust could infect your sealed meridians! Absolutely not! I will handle this myself."
Tantai Zhi stood up. She took a step back.
She reached out her right hand.
SHING!
A blinding flash of world-ending crimson light erupted in the courtyard. The majestic, terrifying sword of the Saintess materialized in her grip. The blade thrummed with a heavy, apocalyptic thirst for blood. The sheer killing intent rolling off the weapon made the peach blossoms above them shrivel slightly.
Sesame woke up instantly, his fur puffing out in sheer terror, and scrambled behind the stone table to hide.
Yan Shuo’s casual, lazy smile completely froze.
"Zhi’er," Yan Shuo said very carefully. "That is a supreme-tier divine weapon. It was forged to sever mountains and slaughter dragons."
"Exactly!" Tantai Zhi beamed, resting the terrifying, glowing red blade casually against her shoulder. "Its edge is flawless at the atomic level! My sword aura is purely Yin-aligned. When I cut your hair, the extreme cold of the blade will instantly cauterize the ends, sealing your Qi inside perfectly! It is the most hygienic way!"
Yan Shuo looked at the blade. He looked at his wife’s excited, entirely confident face.
He was a Nascent Soul Grandmaster, yes. But his physical body was fifteen. If she sneezed while holding that sword near his neck, his head would roll off his shoulders before his brain even registered the pain.
"Fox!" Tantai Zhi barked, her voice suddenly cutting across the courtyard.
From behind the koi pond, Su Mei slowly emerged. She looked like she was marching to her own execution.
"Bring the bronze mirror," Tantai Zhi commanded, pointing her crimson sword at the grass in front of Yan Shuo. "Kneel there and hold it up so my husband can watch."
Su Mei hurried into the side pavilion, grabbed a heavy bronze mirror, and scrambled back. She dropped to her knees exactly where she was told, holding the mirror up with shaking hands.
She looked at Yan Shuo’s reflection. The ancient Demon Lord looked completely serene, but Su Mei could see the tiny, almost imperceptible tightness around his jaw.
If she slips, Su Mei thought, a tear of absolute terror welling in her eye, I am going to be covered in his blood. And then she is going to kill me for making him bleed.
"Sit perfectly still, Husband," Tantai Zhi murmured sweetly, stepping directly behind him.
Yan Shuo closed his eyes for a brief second, resigning himself to the madness. He was the Nightmare of the Ancient Era. He would not show fear in the face of a haircut.
"I trust you completely, Wife," Yan Shuo said, keeping his voice smooth.
Tantai Zhi gathered a section of his dark hair between her pale fingers. She raised the crimson sword.
She didn’t hack. She didn’t saw.
With a flick of her wrist so fast it broke the sound barrier, the supreme-tier sword flashed.
SWISH. SWISH. SWISH.
Sparks of pure red sword intent danced through the air, flashing right next to Yan Shuo’s ears. The sheer kinetic force of the blade cutting the air sent a chilling breeze sweeping over his neck. Strands of dark hair fluttered gently down onto his white robes.
Su Mei squeezed her eyes shut, turning her head away, fully expecting to hear the sickening sound of decapitation.
"There!" Tantai Zhi announced cheerfully, the terrifying red sword vanishing back into her spatial ring with a soft shing.
Yan Shuo slowly opened his eyes. He realized his head was still firmly attached to his neck. He let out a microscopic, silent exhale of relief and looked into the bronze mirror held by the trembling fox maid.
He blinked in genuine surprise.
The haircut was flawless.
His dark hair, which had been hanging loosely past his shoulders, was now trimmed perfectly to frame his face. The length was even, the layers were immaculate, and just as she had promised, the ends felt incredibly smooth and sealed. The new style completely shed the slightly unkempt, sickly youth appearance he had been sporting.
In the bronze mirror, he no longer looked like a fragile fifteen-year-old boy. The sharper, cleaner cut emphasized his strong jawline and his dark, fathomless eyes. He looked older, sharper, and dangerously handsome. The sovereign edge of his past life was suddenly very, very visible.
"How does it look, Husband?" Tantai Zhi asked proudly, stepping around to the front of the cushion to see her handiwork.
She looked at his face.
She stopped walking.
Tantai Zhi’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.
The proud, protective smile completely evaporated from her face. A massive, catastrophic wave of brilliant red blush exploded across her cheeks, sweeping down her neck and staining her collarbones. Her golden eyes widened, completely mesmerized by the man sitting on the cushion.
He is... he is so handsome, Tantai Zhi’s brain completely flatlined. My husband is entirely too handsome. Why is his jaw so sharp? Why do his eyes look like that?
She had spent the last four months treating him like a fragile, sickly glass doll. But looking at him now, with his hair perfectly styled, sitting with that lazy, arrogant posture... the sheer, devastating charisma of the Demon Lord hit her like a physical blow.
Her knees actually felt weak.
"You have an excellent eye for style, Zhi’er," Yan Shuo smiled, turning his head slightly to check the profile. The smile was confident, effortless, and utterly lethal to a yandere’s heart.
Tantai Zhi let out a tiny, high-pitched squeak.
She instantly brought both of her hands up to cover her furiously blushing face. She spun around, putting her back to him, her shoulders trembling.
"Wife?" Yan Shuo asked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. "Are you alright?"
"I am fine!" Tantai Zhi squeaked, her voice muffled by her hands. She was breathing entirely too fast. "I just... I need a moment! The sun is very bright today! I need to go check on the soup!"
Without another word, the terrifying Goddess of Slaughter practically sprinted across the grass and locked herself inside the side pavilion, slamming the door behind her.
Yan Shuo stared at the closed door, deeply entertained.
He looked back at the bronze mirror. Su Mei was staring at him too, her fox ears flat against her head.
"You can put the mirror down, Miss Su," Yan Shuo chuckled, running a hand through his freshly cut hair.
Su Mei quickly lowered the mirror and scrambled away.
From behind the stone table, Sesame cautiously poked his fluffy black head out. Seeing that the glowing red sword of death was gone, the leopard trotted over to Yan Shuo’s cushion, sniffed the freshly cut hair on the ground, and sneezed.
Yan Shuo scooped the fluffy beast back onto his lap, leaning back against the peach tree.
His wife was currently having a romantic meltdown in the kitchen over a haircut. His cat was purring on his stomach. The sun was shining.
The soft-rice lifestyle was truly a terrifying, wonderful trap.
