Chapter 109: A Knife Behind the Smile
Hearing that name, Xiao Lanqi froze. A moment later, he frowned.
“That’s impossible!”
“Why is it impossible?”
“‘Xiao Lan’ is an honored surname. In all of Mingzhu Heaven, only my mother and I have that name!”
“No one ever told you?”
Reflected in Xiao Lancheng’s deep violet eyes was Xiao Lanqi’s small figure.
“You’re not your mother’s only child.”
“I… I know that. I have an older brother.”
As he spoke, Xiao Lanqi’s voice grew quieter.
It was as if he suddenly realized something. Tilting his head in confusion, he asked:
“You’re my older brother?”
“Yes.”
Xiao Lancheng reached out and gently patted his head.
“Then why have I never seen you before?”
Xiao Lanqi could sense a trace of familiarity in Xiao Lancheng’s aura—it meant their bloodlines were close, and it also meant Xiao Lancheng wasn’t lying.
“Because I started living on my own a long time ago. That’s how demons are… just like you—”
At that point, Xiao Lancheng seemed to realize something was off. He stopped mid-sentence and took a closer look at Xiao Lanqi.
“You’ve already passed early childhood, haven’t you?”
“Yes.” Xiao Lanqi nodded.
“Then why do you still call her ‘Mother Sovereign’?”
“Because she is my mother.” Xiao Lanqi found the question strange.
“But after early childhood, you’re no longer connected to your parents, right? You’re supposed to live on your own.”
“I know. But Mother said that right after early childhood, young demons can’t protect themselves. It’s hard for them to survive alone, so she told me to stay with her.”
“….”
Xiao Lancheng lowered his gaze slightly. After a moment, he smiled again.
“Then where is your mother now? Can you take me to see her? I haven’t seen her in a long time.”
“Why make it sound so distant? If you’re my brother, then she’s your mother too.”
Xiao Lanqi tilted his head, puzzled.
“She’s not here right now. She’s gone to war. I snuck out.”
“I see. Then what are you doing out here?”
“Playing. The palace is too boring. I’ve already finished my training for today, so I came out to wander around.”
“What are you playing?”
“Digging.”
Xiao Lanqi used his wooden knife to scoop up a small pile of dirt.
“Look—there are shiny bits in the soil. They’re really pretty.”
“So you like shiny things? Then I’ll play with you. I like things that glow too.”
“Okay.”
Xiao Lanqi didn’t think much of it. The two of them sat there digging in the dirt all afternoon. When it got late, he figured he should head back, so he said goodbye to Xiao Lancheng.
Xiao Lancheng nodded, asking him to keep their meeting a secret. He added:
“If you get bored in the future, you can come here to find me again. But you can’t tell anyone that I’m here. When your mother comes back, then you can tell her I’ve returned and that I’d like to see her. Alright?”
Xiao Lanqi thought the request was a bit strange, but he didn’t dwell on it. He simply nodded in agreement.
After that, every few days, he would sneak back to the grassland to see Xiao Lancheng. Lancheng often brought him gifts—sometimes accessories made of star-silver, other times interesting little trinkets from the human world.
Xiao Lanqi kept his promise and never told anyone about himself.
Until a few months later, when Xiao Lanyue returned from her campaign.
She came back carrying the aura of slaughter, her armor and face still splattered with blood. But when she saw Xiao Lanqi, she reined in all that hostility, curved her lips into a smile, and—just like always—lifted him into her arms.
Xiao Lanqi was overjoyed. He lifted his sleeve to wipe the blood from Xiao Lanyue’s cheek and asked,
“Mother, now that you’re back this time… will you leave again?”
“Not for a while,” Xiao Lanyue said, rubbing her cheek lightly against his hand.
“Now that this battle is over, things will be peaceful for some time. Whatever you want to do, I can stay with you.”
“Yay!” Xiao Lanqi let out a small cheer. After a moment, he suddenly remembered his promise to Xiao Lancheng.
Looking at Xiao Lanyue, he said,
“Mother, I need to confess something.”
“Oh? What trouble did you get into, you little rascal?”
“While you were gone… I snuck out to play.”
At that, Xiao Lanyue’s expression sharpened, her tone turning stern.
“Where did you go? Did you run into any danger? Xiao Lanqi, your nerve is getting worse and worse.”
“No, I just went to that grass field not far from the palace. Do you remember? We used to go there all the time! Guess who I met there?”
“Who?” Xiao Lanyue raised a brow slightly.
This child, who barely ever left the palace—who could he possibly know?
“I met my older brother.” Seeing her freeze, Xiao Lanqi added,
“Xiao Lancheng!”
“…”
Xiao Lanqi had thought his mother would be delighted to hear this news. But instead, she seemed momentarily stunned. After a long pause, she forced a faint smile.
“You met him? Did you get along well?”
Xiao Lanqi nodded.
“Yes. He even asked me to tell you that he wants to see you.”
“He wants to see me?”
Xiao Lanyue seemed a little surprised, but she didn’t hesitate long before nodding.
“Where is he?”
After Xiao Lanqi told her the location, Xiao Lanyue didn’t even bother to change out of her armor. Carrying him, she went straight there.
When they got close, she set Xiao Lanqi down and told him to wait. She went alone into the grass field to meet Xiao Lancheng.
Xiao Lanqi obediently sat on a rock and watched them.
The wait felt long. Xiao Lanyue and Xiao Lancheng talked for a long time. It didn’t seem like a particularly pleasant conversation either—at one point, Xiao Lanqi even saw his mother lose her temper.
But it passed quickly. In the end, Xiao Lanyue and Xiao Lancheng walked back toward him side by side.
“Xiao Lanqi, do you like your brother?”
That was the first thing Xiao Lanyue asked when she returned.
Xiao Lanqi looked up at Xiao Lancheng and nodded.
“I do.”
“Then from today on, your brother will come back and live with us. Is that alright?”
“Sure!”
Xiao Lanqi didn’t think much of it. The palace in Mingzhu Heaven was too big and empty anyway—having another person would make it livelier. And even when his mother wasn’t around, someone would be there to talk to him.
But to outsiders, this was a huge issue.
Those bad-tempered elder demons, upon hearing that Xiao Lancheng had returned, gathered in the hall day after day, red-faced with anger.
“Your Majesty, just look—go outside and see! Demons have always lived alone. Never in history has any demon gone against our ancestors and nature to live together like those lowly humans playing house! You are our ruler, the leader of Mingzhu Heaven. It’s one thing that you kept the young lord instead of letting him grow independently, but now you’re bringing another one back to live together as well. This is simply—”
“Independent growth?” Xiao Lanyue let out a cold laugh.
“You’re the ones who should go outside and take a look. Of these so-called ‘independent’ young demons, how many out of ten actually survive childhood and adolescence to reach adulthood? Do you know how many demons out there are waiting to use young demons as ingredients for cultivation? This isn’t independence—it’s slaughter!”
“But it has always been this way! Only by eliminating the weak can we select truly powerful demons! Look at Xiao Lancheng—didn’t you send him out on his own as soon as he passed early childhood? And now he stands before you perfectly fine! Children with ancient bloodlines are blessed with strength and fortune—they won’t die so easily! Humans need to band together because they’re weak, but demons don’t! Only by being cold, ruthless, and free of attachments can we become strong! That is what it means to be a true demon!”
“Ridiculous!”
Xiao Lanyue slammed her palm onto the table, splitting it in two. But since Xiao Lancheng had been brought up, she found it difficult to argue that point.
It was true—she had once done the same as other demons: chosen a mate during mating season, borne a child, and then cast him out once he could take care of himself. In that regard, she owed Xiao Lancheng, and she had no excuse.
So she argued from another angle instead.
“Yes, the ones who survive are strong and ruthless—but look at the current state of Mingzhu Heaven! The demons are scattered and disorganized, and external forces are watching us like hawks. Why do you think I’m constantly going out to battle? To kill those arrogant, uncontrollable members of our own kind! If this continues, our numbers will only keep shrinking. One day, demons will disappear from this world entirely! What nonsense traditions—you should open your eyes and look! In ancient times, there were no humans—only demons and other races! But now? Humans are everywhere, the other races still thrive, and only demons grow fewer and fewer. Doesn’t that prove something? Our way of survival is flawed! This so-called survival of the fittest is not reasonable!”
“So you would imitate those lowly humans? Where does that leave the pride of demons?!”
“If humans have survived this long, then they must be doing something right. And what about us? What use is pride when our race is on the brink of extinction? I will never let my children become those cold, cruel ‘true demons’ you speak of! Not a chance!”
That day, Xiao Lanyue was furious.
Xiao Lanqi, hiding outside the hall, listened for a while before sneaking back to his room.
After that, those elder demons parted on bad terms with Xiao Lanyue and never again appeared in the great hall of Mingzhu Heaven.
Xiao Lanqi, however, was quite happy. Once they were gone, no one remained to nag his mother and make her angry.
Just as Xiao Lanyue had said, after that campaign, she had a long stretch of free time. Like when Xiao Lanqi was younger, she trained him every day, supervised his studies, and sometimes even played with him.
The palace became much livelier—because his brother was there too.
Still, Xiao Lanqi couldn’t help but feel that something was off between his mother and his brother. For example, she never called his brother “A-Cheng” the way she called him “A-Qi.” In fact, whenever his brother was present, she avoided showing too much affection toward him, even addressing him by his full name.
His mother said that she raised them differently. They had spent very little time together in the past, and after being separated for so long, she no longer knew how to interact with him. If she acted too affectionate toward Xiao Lanqi in front of him, she worried it might make him uncomfortable or lead him to overthink.
Xiao Lanqi didn’t really understand, but he trusted his mother. As long as she was happy, that was enough for him.
That period was probably the happiest time of Xiao Lanqi’s life. He had his mother, and he had his brother.
His brother was kind and gentle. Later, when his mother went off to war again, his brother stayed behind and kept him company every day.
Once, Xiao Lanqi asked where his brother had gone during all those years away from their mother.
Xiao Lancheng thought for a moment before answering,
“I’ve been everywhere. But the place I stayed the longest… was the human world.”
“The human world?”
Xiao Lanqi knew that was where humans lived.
He often heard his mother arguing with the elders, and the word “humans” came up again and again, making him very curious.
Blinking, he asked,
“Brother, what are humans like? Are they easy to get along with?”
“Humans…”
Looking into the child’s bright cyan eyes, Xiao Lancheng curved his lips in a faint, unreadable smile.
“I hate humans.”
“Why? Are they bad?”
“They are.” Xiao Lancheng gently patted his head.
“Humans are very complicated creatures. They’re fragile—ordinary ones only live for a few decades. Because they can’t withstand danger, they have to stick together to survive. They’re also burdened with all sorts of troublesome, strange emotions. Those emotions tie them down, making them do all kinds of odd things—even willingly die for others. They’re full of schemes too—cunning, deceitful, greedy… If you’re not careful, they’ll lure you into traps. They’re dangerous.”
“….”
Xiao Lanqi tilted his head in confusion.
“Die for others? Why?”
“Strange, isn’t it? So weak, yet willing to give up their lives over small favors. It makes no sense. You don’t need to understand that, A-Qi. You’re too simple, and human emotions are fragile, complicated, and useless—they don’t suit you. Besides, even if I didn’t tell you, you probably wouldn’t like humans anyway, right?
“You just need to be a proper demon. Among us, strength is everything. We’re proud by nature, and only the strong earn respect. You’re exceptionally gifted, and you carry the Taowu inheritance. In the future, you’ll become the strongest demon of all. Why would someone like you ever care for creatures as weak and insignificant as humans?”
“Oh.”
Xiao Lanqi didn’t fully understand, only catching a few key points.
After a pause, he asked again,
“Then, Brother… what is ‘love,’ the thing Mother always talks about?”
“Ah.”
Xiao Lancheng’s gaze softened, the smile on his lips deepening.
In a calm, gentle voice, he said,
“Love… is a burden. A weakness. A poison. It turns the strong into the useless. It’s the most ridiculous emotion humans have—and the most worthless thing in the world.”