he Ye family had stood for over a hundred years, its roots deep and influence vast.

On this continent where spiritual power ruled, having a crippled descendant like Ye Qingge was a stain on their name. Yet she lived on, solely because of the Great Elder’s unshakable love for his granddaughter.

The pain in her body was unbearable. She gasped sharply, collapsing onto the floor, her eyes hazy as she stared at the corner of the table.

She never imagined she’d end up in such a strange world. But whether in her past life or this one, one thing hadn’t changed — she was alone.

It didn’t matter where she was. What mattered was survival.

As her thoughts churned, the crimson birthmark on half her face began to melt and flow, as though it were liquid. A brilliant purple-red light flared, and a powerful wind howled through the room. The windows burst open.

From the radiance, a scarlet lotus bloomed — dazzling and magnificent.

At its center, a small lump of flesh curled up and trembled.

The wind wailed like a crying spirit.

The lump slowly stretched out four limbs, revealing a creature with smooth, lustrous red fur — somewhere between a cat and a fox.

Its eyes were striking — one violet, one crimson — the colors of mandala and blood lotus, mesmerizing and dangerous.

Ye Qingge lay motionless, staring blankly as the strange creature approached her.

The cat-fox stood arrogantly before her, then suddenly raised a paw and slashed across her marked cheek.

Sharp claws tore through her delicate skin. Blood welled and streamed down her face, pooling darkly on the stone floor.

Ye Qingge frowned, fury sparking in her eyes — but before she could react, a veil of blood swept across her vision.

When she opened her eyes again, the world had changed.

She stood in a vast, dim space, silent and lifeless. A chill of desolation filled her heart.

Ahead, about three meters away, stood a massive black jade throne, carved with nine dragons.

Reclining upon it was a man dressed in a crimson robe, a red cord lazily tied around his waist, his chest partly exposed. His features were breathtaking — dangerously beautiful.

A pair of long, narrow phoenix eyes, one violet and one red, gleamed with arrogance and allure. A crimson mark between his brows shone like blood. His thin lips curved lazily — red as ruby, dazzling as dawn.

A demon in human form, Ye Qingge thought bitterly.

Drip… drip…

Blood continued to fall from her cheek, echoing in the silence.

The man’s gaze lowered to the spreading pool of red at her feet. For a long time, he said nothing. Then, in a voice as smooth as jade shattering, he murmured lazily:

“Come here.”

The sound was dangerously intoxicating — like dew on a lotus, or wine on the tongue.

Ye Qingge frowned. This man is too dangerous.

She stood still, her face cold, her eyes wary and sharp like a cornered beast.

The man sighed softly, his smile fading.

“So disobedient.”

In an instant, he vanished. The next moment, Ye Qingge found herself lifted into the air — cradled in his arms.

“You’ve been poisoned by a parasitic curse,” he said lightly. “If you don’t want to die, you’d better behave.”

Her body tensed, every nerve on alert — like a leopard ready to strike.

He noticed, but merely smirked.

“Relax. I have no interest in women without beauty… or curves.”

Ye Qingge: “…”

She was half ugly, not fully!

And besides — she was only fourteen or fifteen. How developed could she possibly be?