Chapter 15#
The Little Waste Tames the Sinister Demon King (15)
Looking at the familiar face before him, the memories of this physical body quickly surfaced in Ling Yan’s mind.
He imitated the frail, dependent demeanor from those memories, hurriedly stepping forward and speaking in a soft, gentle voice.
“Big brother, why are you here?”
Seeing his younger brother’s nervous expression, Ling Sheng lightly patted his shoulder and soothed him warmly. “Don’t worry. I received word that the demon king hasn’t been in the demon realm lately, so I snuck over to see you. Father and Mother… miss you very much.”
Ling Yan sniffled, his eyes reddening, and two tears immediately fell as he asked in a trembling voice.
“Father and Mother… are they doing well?”
Ling Sheng quickly replied, “They’re fine. Ever since we learned you were still alive, everyone’s hearts have been much more at ease. You don’t need to worry.”
The bedchamber fell silent for a moment.
Ling Sheng carefully examined his younger brother’s slender figure, furrowing his brows with concern as he lowered his voice and asked, “That demon king… has he bullied you? Has he threatened or intimidated you?”
“…”
Ling Yan slightly raised his eyes, their tea-colored pupils glistening like watery light, and answered softly.
“No… the demon king treats me quite well.”
Ling Sheng let out a soft sigh, his gaze falling on his brother Ling Yan, complex and tinged with an indescribable pity.
This younger brother was good in every way, except that his nature was too naive.
He had been meticulously sheltered by the family since childhood, never truly witnessing the darkness and malice of the world. As a result, he saw everyone through a layer of soft light, always believing that people were inherently good.
Such thoughts, of course, he wouldn’t voice to Ling Yan.
Even if he did, the other would probably only stare back with those clear eyes, bewildered and unbelieving.
Ling Sheng fixed his gaze on Ling Yan, his tone serious.
“I didn’t come just to see you this time. I also have something to give you.”
Ling Yan blinked, his long lashes fluttering slightly, appearing somewhat innocent.
“What is it?”
Ling Sheng opened his palm, and a warm green light quietly materialized. It was a small celadon porcelain bottle, its glaze smooth as jade, shimmering with a subtle luster—clearly no ordinary object at first glance.
“This is…?”
Ling Yan asked softly, a trace of curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Ling Sheng looked at him, his voice calm yet low: “Inside this is ‘Crimson Beauty’s Ashes.’”
Crimson Beauty’s Ashes.
A name of exquisite beauty, yet holding a lethal spark that ignites at the slightest touch.
Crimson beauty like a dream, once consumed, it engulfs the body like scorching flames, leaving only ashes and cinders.
Like fire, it is poison.
And the second young master of the Ling family, sheltered from all harm, had clearly never heard of this thing, much less understood the deadly peril and resolute finality it carried.
Ling Yan raised his eyes, beautiful as if soaked in water, crystal clear to the bottom.
He silently cast his older brother a questioning look.
A barely perceptible struggle flickered in Ling Sheng’s eyes, but the ripple lasted only a moment before settling into a cold, still deep pool.
He spoke, his voice steady and calm.
“This medicine can restrict the demon king’s cultivation. Once taken, it will make his ten-thousand-year cultivation—collapse nearly completely.”
A sudden shock surged into Ling Yan’s eyes, his tea-colored pupils widening immensely, as if he had heard something unbelievable. He instinctively took a few steps back, stumbling slightly, unable to utter a single word for a moment.
Ling Sheng slightly furrowed his brows, his expression stern, his voice low but clear: “Yan Yan, this medicine—you must personally administer it to the demon king. Only you can get close to him.”
“I…?”
Ling Yan’s voice trembled slightly, as if something had choked his breath.
Ling Sheng stepped forward, pressing the cold celadon medicine bottle into Ling Yan’s hand without allowing refusal.
“Yes, only you.”
His tone was firm, yet it revealed a trace of barely perceptible pain. “Brother knows this is too difficult for you. But you must think of the human race, think of the soldiers who died on the battlefield… As long as the demon king still lives, the flames of war will never truly be extinguished.”
Ling Yan stood completely stunned, his nose reddening slightly, his voice choked with sobs: “B-but aren’t the two clans already joined by marriage? There’s no war now… Isn’t peaceful coexistence good?”
Ling Sheng was silent for a moment.
He should have expected this. His younger brother’s heart was as soft as a pool of water—whether toward humans or demons, he could never harden his heart in the slightest.
Ling Sheng’s Adam’s apple moved, and he slowed his voice even more, yet every word was distinct: “The demon king is only recuperating his strength. The war has never truly ended. This medicine… will only strip away his cultivation. It won’t take his life.”
“R-really… truly?”
“When has brother ever lied to you?”
Ling Yan lowered his eyes, looking at the small bottle that felt cold to the touch in his hand, his fingertips trembling slightly.
Seeing his brother’s wavering expression, Ling Sheng immediately lowered his voice again and said, “If you don’t do it, no one else can. Do you… want to watch the two clans reignite war, and watch Father, Mother, and me… all die in the chaos of battle?”
Ling Yan’s tears burst forth instantly. He frantically grabbed his brother’s sleeve, his voice breaking: “No… don’t…”
“Then do it.”
“B-but…”
Ling Sheng frowned slightly and pressed, “But what?”
Ling Yan lifted his tea-colored eyes, tears swirling in them, and spoke with a clear sob: “But the demon king’s cultivation is profound, and he no longer needs to eat or drink… This medicine can’t be administered anywhere.”
Ling Sheng was silent for a moment, then mused, “You could dilute the medicine and apply it to the collar or cuffs of his clothes. Although it would reduce some of the potency, it could still drain a considerable amount of his cultivation.”
Ling Yan sniffled lightly and said softly, “Alright, I understand. But the demon king has a habit of being fastidious. Even getting close to him on ordinary days is extremely difficult.”
Ling Sheng was taken aback, blurting out, “He… has never touched you?”
“?”
Seeing his younger brother’s bewildered expression, Ling Sheng cleared his throat lightly, the tips of his ears turning slightly red, and lowered his voice: “I mean the matters of husband and wife. You haven’t… done it yet?”
Ling Yan immediately flushed bright red with embarrassment and waved his hands frantically: “No, no…”
Ling Sheng was momentarily speechless.
If that was really the case, it was much more troublesome.
His gaze swept over the furnishings in the room, and after a moment of thought, he said, “Then the only option is to place the medicine on objects he frequently touches. But it would be best if you could get him to ingest it directly.”
Ling Yan lowered his head, remaining silent.
Ling Sheng sighed softly.
His younger brother, whom he had protected since childhood, who had never even hurt an ant—now he was asking him to deal with a demon king of profound cultivation. How could he not feel heartbroken?
He couldn’t help but gently urge, “Yan Yan, I know this is very hard… But please, you must do it.”