Tempting The God - Chapter 1
Chapter 1: Tribulation of Love
On the desolate plains, the sounds of battle shook the heavens.
Shen Jixue resisted the dizziness as she opened her eyes.
Fresh blood spewed from her mouth and nose as a silver spear pierced through her body, pinning her firmly in place.
In the thousands of years she had ruled the demon realm, she had never suffered such a grievous injury.
All she could see were soldiers clad in silver-white armor, their blades rising and falling, leaving trails of blood.
The stench of charred flesh from burning bodies filled the air, sickening to the core.
Corpses of demon soldiers littered the battlefield as far as the eye could see.
Unlike her, still clinging to life as the Demon Lord, those who fell never stood up again.
Some didn’t even have the chance to scream, their throats slit in a flash.
This was, without a doubt, a massacre.
And the perpetrators were obvious—the Celestial Clan.
Shen Jixue’s gaze fell to the Demon-Slaying Spear that had impaled her.
The silver spear, engraved with radiant Taiyi Xuan patterns, emitted a divine glow that suppressed the demonic energy within her, repeatedly tearing her wounds open, preventing any chance of healing.
Not far away, a figure approached slowly.
As Shen Jixue looked up, her dark eyes were instantly tinged with blood-red fury.
Gripping the shaft of the spear, she pushed herself forward with a forceful step, her body surging through the length of the weapon far beyond her reach.
Thick blood dripped down the engraved patterns, tainting the divine silver spear with an air of slaughter.
“Chang Yuan,” Shen Jixue raised her blade, pointing directly at the snow-clad Divine Lord.
“Today, one of us will die!”
“Achoo—!”
A sudden sneeze shattered the vision, yanking Shen Jixue out of her dream.
She sat up, rubbing her arms.
The frigid wind seeped through every crack, chilling her cheeks to a bluish-purple hue and making her shiver uncontrollably.
The winter sky was clear with sparse stars, the moonlight filtering through the broken roof tiles overhead.
The faint light revealed a dilapidated temple crowded with ragged refugees.
A person tending the fire glanced at her and threw two more logs onto the flames.
The saying went: Cold days and warm sun, both whittle away human lives.
As the autumn harvest began in Libei, an abrupt blizzard buried thousands of acres of crops beneath pristine white snow, leaving nothing to harvest.
Millions of refugees fled south, with Feixue City—the closest city to the north—their first stop.
Shen Jixue was among them.
She frowned slightly, glancing at the little boy huddled beside her before lying back down, staring at the stars visible through the broken roof.
The battlefield scene earlier wasn’t just a dream—it was her foretold death tribulation.
The legendary Hongmeng Mirror, an ancient divine artifact born in the primordial chaos, was said to foresee the future and reveal the tribulations that could lead to the beholder’s demise.
Some claimed it could even help them overcome these trials.
Cultivating the Dao was a struggle against the natural order—to gain a lifespan as long as the heavens, or the ability to move mountains and fill seas, one had to pay the price of confronting a death tribulation.
Surviving it would bring limitless possibilities, but succumbing meant complete annihilation.
Because it could aid in overcoming death tribulations, the Hongmeng Mirror’s emergence would inevitably bring bloodshed and chaos.
As the Demon Lord, Shen Jixue was one of the few in the Six Realms who could match the Divine Lord.
Upon hearing rumors of the Hongmeng Mirror, she grew intrigued, seized it, and placed it on her nightstand.
For a thousand years, the cracked mirror remained dormant in her possession, its murky surface incapable of even reflecting her image—until a few days ago, when it suddenly drew her inside.
Mountains of corpses and seas of blood, the demon realm reduced to a purgatory.
Her death tribulation was all thanks to one person—the Divine Lord Chang Yuan.
A thousand years ago, the celestial and demon clans had joined forces to seal away the Ashura Clan.
But without a common enemy, their unity had frayed, and relations had deteriorated over the millennia.
By now, the enmity between the two clans had reached a breaking point, with war inevitable.
Shen Jixue had intended to infiltrate the celestial realm for a preemptive strike.
But at this critical moment, Chang Yuan unexpectedly descended to the mortal world to undergo a tribulation.
Recalling the golden text that had floated across the Hongmeng Mirror, Shen Jixue narrowed her eyes.
“Experience five lifetimes of love tribulations.
Stir his emotions; then kill him.
Damage his soul; destroy all five lifetimes.
Fail to complete the love tribulations, and he will lose his divine position.
The death tribulation will then be broken.”
Chang Yuan’s tribulations presented Shen Jixue with the perfect opportunity to overcome her own death tribulation and save the demon realm from annihilation.
The paths of cultivation for the celestial and demon clans differed greatly.
While the demon clan’s power grew rapidly, it was accompanied by a demonic presence that could consume them if not suppressed, turning them into mindless creatures of slaughter.
The celestial clan, born of heaven and earth, possessed innate powers to move mountains and fill seas.
However, to progress further, they needed to undergo tribulations—not death tribulations, but emotional ones.
These were decreed by the Heavenly Dao to temper their hearts.
Those who gained enlightenment through these trials could ascend, return to their divine position, and await their next opportunity.
But failure would leave them unable to reclaim their divine status, condemned to the cycle of reincarnation, lost among the masses.
The Hongmeng Mirror revealed that Chang Yuan’s tribulations required him to experience five lifetimes of love trials.
His first lifetime was in Feixue City, where he had become the eldest son of the Lin family—Lin Mozhi.
Bound by the Six Realms Alliance’s agreements, Shen Jixue publicly announced that she would enter seclusion for cultivation with no set time for emergence.
Privately, she sealed away her demonic energy and cultivation, sending her soul to the mortal realm.
On her way to Feixue City, she encountered a group of refugees heading in the same direction.
Among them, she came across a little girl who had recently frozen to death in her sleep due to hunger and cold.
Thus, Shen Jixue conveniently possessed her body.
Coincidentally, this girl’s name was Shen Weixue, only a single character different from her own name.
Yet their fates couldn’t have been more distinct.
One was exalted, living as long as the heavens; the other, a mere child frozen to death in a snowy wasteland.
There was only one thing about Shen Weixue that caught Shen Jixue’s attention—her heavenly-grade ice spiritual root.
Given the chance to join a cultivation sect, she could have been extraordinary.
But unfortunately, she had died.
In these harsh times of snow and famine, selling one’s children was all too common.
“Ah Xue, you go with this uncle for now. We’ll come to fetch you in a couple of days.”
A gaunt middle-aged man accepted two sacks of coarse grain from a finely dressed man, speaking with a forced smile.
“Be good and listen to him, alright?”
Shen Jixue glanced at the middle-aged woman wiping away tears as she tightly held a younger boy in her arms.
She nodded.
“Alright.”
This arrangement suited her perfectly.
Shen Jixue looked up at the gate plaque that read “Lin Residence” before following Steward Zhang inside.
She walked through long corridors, past well-fed servants in sharp contrast to the famine-stricken refugees, around the gardens and ponds accessible only to the family’s masters, until she finally stopped before the secluded “Songhe Courtyard.”
Butler Zhang gently knocked on the tightly closed door.
Shortly, soft footsteps echoed from within.
Creak…
Shen Jixue blinked curiously as the door opened to reveal a girl of about fourteen or fifteen.
Unlike the maids they had encountered earlier, this girl was dressed simply.
Her complexion was rosy, and though she wore no makeup, there was a hint of youthful elegance about her.
However, her voice couldn’t have been further from her appearance.
Her tone was sharp and high-pitched, and when she spoke, her words carried a harshness that contrasted her delicate looks.
“Butler Zhang, what brings you to Songhe Courtyard today?”
Despite the mocking tone, Butler Zhang remained unbothered.
Smiling faintly, he nudged Shen Jixue forward a few steps and introduced her.
“This child just arrived at the manor today. The master has decided she’ll serve as a cleaning maid for the young master. Luyi, she’s in your hands now.”
With that, Butler Zhang rattled off his instructions and left without lingering, leaving Luyi glaring at Shen Jixue with gritted teeth.
“A maid? More like a filthy little refugee!”
Her almond-shaped eyes, so lively before, now brimmed with disdain.
She wrinkled her nose as she poked at Shen Jixue, as if handling something unclean.
“Who knows what diseases you might be carrying, and they just dumped you here!”
Shen Jixue blinked her large eyes and replied crisply, “I’m not sick.”
Having lived for thousands of years, she had encountered all sorts of beings—demons, gods, immortals, spirits, and humans.
Pretending to be a clueless young girl was effortless for her.
Luyi, surprised by the clarity of her speech, raised an eyebrow and continued her questioning.
“What’s your name? Where are you from? How old are you?”
“My name is Shen Weixue. I’m from Libei, and I’m about fifteen. My parents said I should stay here for now—they’ll come to fetch me in a few days.”
“Fifteen?” Luyi exclaimed, scrutinizing Shen Jixue carefully before comparing her petite figure, barely reaching Luyi’s shoulder.
“You’re so scrawny and short; even saying you’re twelve seems like a stretch, yet you claim to be fifteen?”
Shen Jixue didn’t know how to respond.
She had made up her age on the spot—she couldn’t have checked before possessing this body, could she?
She gave a timid smile.
“Big Sister, what does ‘maid’ mean?”
A flicker of awkwardness passed over Luyi’s face.
She scratched her nose and muttered, “It just means a little servant girl. Come along now; you’re filthy. I’ll take you to bathe first.”
After Shen Jixue had changed into clean clothes, Luyi tied her hair into a simple bun with a red ribbon.
Finally satisfied, she pinched Shen Jixue’s thin, bony cheek and smiled.
“You didn’t look it earlier, but this little maid is quite a beauty in the making,” Luyi remarked, signaling her to follow.
“Come, I’ll take you to see the young master.”
Shen Jixue nodded obediently and trailed behind.
To her, Songhe Courtyard was unbelievably small—minuscule, even.
The smallest courtyard in her Night Terrace Palace was far larger than this.
After only a short walk, they arrived at the so-called “main room.”
Following Luyi inside, Shen Jixue was met with a wave of warmth, though the heat paled compared to the grandeur of the human realm’s dragon-heated palaces.
To her, it felt more like a drafty cellar than a warm refuge.
The comfort of the initial warmth would soon fade, leaving those within feeling colder the longer they stayed.
Luyi motioned for Shen Jixue to wait in the outer chamber while she lifted the thick curtain separating the inner chamber and slipped inside.
Murmurs followed, interspersed with the occasional cough.
Glancing at the patched curtain and the sparse furnishings in the room, Shen Jixue quickly grasped the state of Lin Mozhi’s circumstances in this life.
The young master of the Lin family seemed to be one in name only—likely unloved by his parents and treated as an outcast.
When Shen Jixue had learned of his reincarnation, some time had already passed since his rebirth.
Additional delays from handling matters in the Demon Realm had cost her more time.
In the human world, where time flowed differently from the other five realms, Shen Jixue had worried that Lin Mozhi might have been reborn as someone destined for a short life, leaving her with nothing to intervene in.
To avoid missing the opportunity, she had entered the Lin Manor in haste, without even investigating its internal dynamics, by possessing the body of “Shen Weixue.”
In truth, even if that couple hadn’t sold their daughter, she would have found another way into the Lin family.
Judging by the state of Lin Mozhi’s quarters, her suspicions were confirmed: the eldest young master of the Lin family was nothing more than a neglected, sickly boy.
Luyi returned shortly and led Shen Jixue into the inner chamber.
The air inside was saturated with the heavy scent of medicine, nearly overpowering enough to make someone faint.
The carved wooden bed was dull and worn, with a rickety brazier beside it.
In the corner sat a small desk and a cot, dwarfed by a wall of bookshelves crammed with tomes.
The space was cramped and unimpressive—hardly befitting the residence of the Lin family’s eldest son.
Luyi tugged Shen Jixue’s sleeve and gestured to the ground.
“You need to kneel before the young master,” she whispered sternly.
Feigning ignorance, Shen Jixue retorted, “My parents said I should only kneel before the magistrate, not any ‘master.’”
Why should she kneel before Chang Yuan? If anything, he should be kneeling before her.
“You little brat, so stubborn,” Luyi snapped, reaching out to twist Shen Jixue’s ear.
“Let’s see if you still dare to disobey—”
“Enough, Luyi. Don’t scare her.”
The soft voice came from the bed, where a boy wrapped in blankets sat upright.
He closed the book in his hand and turned his face toward them, the white gauze over his eyes giving him an otherworldly air.
“Come closer,” he beckoned gently, extending a pale, slender hand into the empty air to guide her.
Luyi hesitated but stepped back, allowing Shen Jixue to approach.
Her eyes immediately focused on the gauze covering his eyes.
So, he was blind?
But was it real or fake?
She scrutinized the sickly-looking youth before her.
His nose was straight, and his lips were thin, pressed together in a slight tension that betrayed his discomfort at her proximity.
His features were refined and gentle, though there was a faint air of coldness and distance about him.
Compared to Chang Yuan’s divine form, there was only a slight resemblance.
The gauze over his eyes was semi-transparent, and up close, Shen Jixue could see his closed eyelids and the long, dark lashes beneath.
His soft tone and gentle demeanor were nothing like the aloof and frosty god he had been.
Lin Mozhi remained still, allowing her to examine him.
But then his body tensed.
The fearless little girl, unversed in master-servant etiquette, reached out to touch the gauze.
Her warm fingertips rested lightly over his eyes, radiating heat through the fabric like coals on a winter night, making it almost impossible to resist drawing closer.
Her voice, still childlike but with a hint of sincerity, carried a tender concern.
“Big Brother, will your eyes get better?”
