Chapter 545: Chapter 530: The Demon Lord is a Sword Concealing Master

The sound of rain outside the window drizzled incessantly, and Xianling City, known as Evernight City, was aglow with the brilliance of Luminous Pearls atop the eaves of the Royal Hall, casting delicate, scattered flecks of light around, faintly spreading across the room through the slanted palace windows.

The ethereal beauty of nature was picturesque, yet it only added to one’s restlessness and vexation.

Ning Feiyan’s gaze was blank as she stared at the exquisite carvings on the wall, her mind momentarily dazed.

Caught off guard, the unspeakable shame made her furrow her brows in pain, as a sudden flush of alarming allure graced her features.

She instinctively wanted to escape.

The clean, snow-white bedding was adorned with paintings of plum blossoms.

Ning Feiyan’s struggle suddenly froze; she seemed to realize something instantly as her usually poised, light-colored eyes became hollow with perplexity.

The hand that had been gripping the back of her neck had loosened at some point, and cold, pale fingers trailed down her spine and her waistline, forcefully retaining control of her fleeing body.

Lips tinged with a hint of drunkenness suddenly pressed against her porcelain white shoulder.

It wasn’t a kiss, but the posture of feeding.

A sharp pain transmitted through her skin as icy tusks bit deeply into her, the paralyzing Corpse Poison slowly injecting into her body, creating an indescribable sensation…

Ning Feiyan let out a quivering, suppressed sound, her delicate brows furrowing further.

Ning Feiyan had never been treated like this; the touch of those unfamiliar, icy palms filled her with anger and disgust.

Though Enchanting Demons were by nature indulgent and easily lost in passion, she had always held a high position, and naturally, no one dared to infringe upon her.

Even if she was known in the outside world for her fickle, flirtatious ways, playing with mortal hearts, only she knew the truth: her reputation for heartlessness was perhaps the only genuine aspect of it.

She loathed the innate nature of her Enchanting Demon race, revered for their beauty throughout the Six Realms and Four Seas yet, due to their lack of strength, traditionally lacked the means to protect themselves—rendering the fate of an Enchanting Demon to nine parts tragedy.

Even in the present day, where good and evil were distinctly separated, whether inside the royal palaces of various noble families in the Demon World or the isolated cottages within the Immortal Sect, there still existed many Enchanting Demons hidden away, enslaved for the pleasure and torment of the powerful, exploited for cultivation.

Breaking free from one’s fate and nature as an Enchanting Demon was common, and nowadays, those who managed to make a name for themselves in the Demon Clan had all invariably crawled through the beds of Demon Lords, Demon Generals, and Dukes.

No matter how much they initially loathed or resisted, the lascivious nature of Enchanting Demons was like a curse—one that either leaves you untouched by passion or, once indulged, condemns you to eternal debauchery, indulging day after day.

Ning Feiyan was adept at toying with men, yet throughout her years in the mortal world, she had always remained untouched, untainted.

Today, she had taken a hard fall.

The lamp flickered, casting oblique shadows on the wall.

The youth behind her continued to bite her shoulder, blood trickling down from his lips, winding its way down her delicate collarbones, a sight of haunting beauty.

She bit her lip fiercely, struggling to suppress the pain that involuntarily spilled out, her dark pupils heavy with somber shadows, the expressions in her eyes chaotically scrambling.

Resting her sweat-dampened chin against the wall, she gently smeared a finger across it.

As she stared blankly at the red smear on her fingertip, she suddenly let out a bitter smile.

What a deplorable body she had; heartless and unfeeling, with no attachment to the boy behind her, particularly none related to male-female romance, yet her cursed body was bitterly ironic.

The real irony was, the youth mistook her for someone else.

Ning Feiyan smeared the blood from her fingertip across Baili An’s pale cheek. Baili An looked up at her with crimson, demon-like eyes, devoid of human clarity and consciousness.

Taking advantage of the situation, Ning Feiyan pinched his chin, her cheeks flushed, her eyes coolly indifferent, but her voice surprisingly relaxed and casual, “Everything is up to fate, beyond one’s control. Young man, if this body is broken, let it be broken. In the end, it’s doomed to be ravaged and decayed into the earth…”

Nearly slammed against the wall, her entire being in disarray, she still nonchalantly held his chin, closely examining Baili An’s face and commented, “Luckily, this little appearance of yours is exceptionally appealing, easy on the eyes – to be ruined by you is not as repulsive as it could be.”

With the woman’s unsteady motion, locks of soft hair fell over her forehead, unavoidably blending a tinge of seductive allure.

She took a shallow breath, her beguiling yet cold voice continued, “But I hope you will stop here. What you are consuming now is an Enchanting Demon. If you fully awaken my racial instincts, it’ll be you who suffers.”

Baili An’s blood-red eyes fixed on hers, his gaze heavy as he lowered his head and took one of her fingers into his mouth, gently nibbling with his sharp, fine teeth and asked, “Not anymore?”

Ning Feiyan’s eyelid twitched, thinking to herself that he could indeed be reasonable, this boy wasn’t bad.

She earnestly replied, “Not anymore.”

Su Jing’s eyes darkened, his fingers tightly clutching the bedsheet.

Out of the blue, Baili An bent down and bit her neck, his voice cold, “Arao, since you proposed one night, it shall be one night. If you wish to hide the sword, then you must do as you say!”

Ning Feiyan couldn’t even muster a complete sentence, her voice coming out in intermittent whimpers and low curses, the content muddled and unclear.

Vague words like “bastard,” “barbarian,” and “who is your Arao” could be heard amidst the turmoil.

Perhaps out of fear, her body trembled uncontrollably, her pretty face buried in the wall.