The Demon Lord Wants a Vacation - Chapter 7: Gifting Sweets

Duanmu Wuqiu noticed the pallor on Luo Xianyun’s face. “Is your injury flaring up?” he asked. “Are you going to die? Should this Lord lend a hand?”

Luo Xianyun: …

It was a generous offer—on the surface. But something about the phrasing struck him as ambiguous. Was he offering to aid in his recovery… or hasten his demise?

Savior System: [The Demon Lord of Destruction always speaks like this. A casual comment from him can ignite a full-scale war between righteous and demonic sects.]

[Right now, he’s deeply worried about you. He’d tear out his own heart to help you—literally. But if you misunderstand his intent and grow wary, he might just rip yours out instead—still literally.]

Luo Xianyun found the Savior System difficult to parse. Though its commentary provided some clarity, it remained steeped in cryptic absurdity.

Savior System: [When dealing with someone like him—lacking emotional nuance and viewing others through a lens of extremes—words won’t help. Actions speak louder. You don’t need to say a thing. Just walk up and give him a kiss, and you’ll save the world.]

Luo Xianyun’s expression turned grimmer.

Duanmu Wuqiu, seemingly oblivious, produced a palm-sized silk pouch and began rifling through it. Though it appeared small, it contained an entire spatial dimension, grand as a palace, filled to the brim with treasures he had acquired (or more accurately, stolen) over the years.

He laid a ten-thousand-year lingzhi mushroom, a fire essence cinnabar fruit, a Tianshan snow lotus, a ginseng on the cusp of sentience, the inner cores of ancient mythical beasts, and an assortment of precious elixirs on the tea table before Luo Xianyun, eyes brimming with anticipation.

The message in his gaze was clear: This Lord is aiding you. You must, in turn, assist him with his inner demon.

Savior System: [Betrothal gifts! These are one hundred percent betrothal gifts!]

Luo Xianyun: …

This was too much. He could not fend off both Duanmu Wuqiu and the system at the same time.

“My injury is somewhat unusual,” he said. “Ordinary medicine will have no effect. I have an energy-gathering array in my chambers. A brief period of meditation and breath control will suffice. There’s no need for medicine.”

With that, he turned to leave, only to see Duanmu Wuqiu following, as if fully intending to enter the room with him.

“I need solitude to rest,” Luo Xianyun said quickly. “Please wait at Lingdu Peak.”

“…Oh.” Duanmu Wuqiu looked crestfallen at being unable to help.

What if he couldn’t aid Luo Xianyun in any way, and still accepted help for his inner demon? Wouldn’t that make him just another demonic cultivator leeching off others without recompense?

That was precisely the kind of person Duanmu Wuqiu despised—those who took advantage of others under the guise of need. He had vowed never to become one of them.

Seeing the disappointment in Duanmu Wuqiu’s eyes, Luo Xianyun relented a little. “I’ll only be gone a short while. Please wait here. If you grow bored…”

He waved a hand, conjuring a spread of delicately wrapped sweets and spiritual delicacies onto the tea table.

Cultivators at the Foundation Establishment stage and above had little need for sustenance. Those who reached Golden Core could live without eating entirely. Food became a matter of preference, not necessity.

Still, the Beichen Sect maintained a spiritual garden dedicated to cultivating ingredients for fine delicacies, and regularly sent portions to each peak.

Luo Xianyun rarely ate and had no interest in mortal indulgences, but the sect still delivered his share each year.

The containers were inscribed with preservation arrays that kept their contents fresh for centuries.

These offerings, however, were not old. Each year, when the sect noticed Luo Xianyun hadn’t touched the previous batch, they redistributed the unopened goods to other disciples. The new batch was always fresh.

He offered the entirety of this year’s allotment to Duanmu Wuqiu.

“Please enjoy these modest sweets to pass the time. I apologize for the lack of proper hospitality.”

“If you discover a viable treatment, inform this Lord immediately,” Duanmu Wuqiu said. “If you need something, this Lord will go and steal it. Don’t waste time.”

Once Luo Xianyun retreated to his quarters, Duanmu Wuqiu sat before the table and examined a green sweet with a sculpted flower on top. He ate it in one bite.

It melted on his tongue, releasing a faint trace of spiritual energy—far less potent than the elixirs he typically consumed.

But it was sweet. Soft. Delightful. A taste unlike anything he’d experienced before.

His eyes curved slightly in surprise.

The world had always been in turmoil. War was ceaseless. The common folk suffered endlessly.

Duanmu Wuqiu once had a family—a father, a mother, three siblings.

His father and eleven-year-old elder brother were conscripted by some passing army to transport supplies. They never returned.

His second brother, out gathering wild herbs with their baby sister on his back, ran into mountain bandits and vanished. Rumors said the bandits were cannibals. A woman might be spared briefly—but a child would not.

His mother’s mind unraveled after that. One day she claimed to see her lost family calling to her. She ran outside. The next day, her body was found by the riverbank, a gaping, blood-filled hole in her forehead.

Duanmu Wuqiu hadn’t understood then, but later, after joining the demonic path, he realized she’d fallen victim to a soul-extracting technique—a demonic cultivator had used her essence as raw material.

At twenty, after reaching Golden Core, he performed a forbidden bloodline tracing technique—only to confirm that his entire family had long perished.

Throughout childhood, he had known only hardship. He ate brown rice and wild greens. When his father was still around, they could afford a bit of meat each month. Afterward, even that memory faded. He had never tasted anything sweet.

The demonic cultivator who later abducted him sustained him on pills filled with spiritual power—bitter, chalky things meant to keep him alive and strong. He’d long ceased associating food with pleasure.

Even his subordinates, when seeking favor, never brought him treats—only rare treasures, potent elixirs, magical weapons. Never anything… nice.

And now, for the first time in ninety years, Duanmu Wuqiu experienced sweetness.

He half-closed his eyes, savoring the feeling.

He eyed the rest of the sweets—some adorned with floral patterns, others shaped like tiny animals.

Picking up a white pig-shaped sweet, he sneered. “Childish.”

He popped it into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully.

“Luo Xianyun keeps these silly snacks for children at his cultivation grounds. How childish.”

He had devoured an entire box before he realized it.

The second box revealed candied fruits. He stared at them for a moment, then began eating with a solemn expression, as though performing a sacred rite.

While Duanmu Wuqiu worked his way through the offerings, Luo Xianyun was contemplating his own inner demon.

“Honored system,” he asked, “are you a venerable ancestor descended to guide this junior, sent to reveal a way to avert the coming heavenly calamity?”

After all, a “system” surely implied an ancestral or sectarian structure—perhaps this was a long-deceased forebear returning to instruct the younger generation.

He thus found it perfectly reasonable to address it with reverence.

System: [The host’s access privileges are insufficient for this information.]

Luo Xianyun pressed on. “Honored system, is the only path to salvation truly the… method you mentioned?”

System: [There are two paths to saving the world. The one I offered is simply faster and more convenient.]

“Please explain both.”

System: [Option one—physical affection: holding hands, embracing, kissing, disrobing, merging body and soul. You must captivate him utterly, so he follows your every command.]

“I choose the second method,” Luo Xianyun said at once.

No matter what it entailed, he could not accept the first!

Wasn’t that no different from those demonic cultivators who ensnared hearts through desire?

System: [The second path is slow. It may take decades.]

“If a few decades can prevent catastrophe, I am more than willing,” Luo Xianyun replied.

System: [You will need to remain by Duanmu Wuqiu’s side for years—healing his past wounds, teaching him to love the world, and dissolving his hatred. Only then will he be able to save it.]

Luo Xianyun nodded solemnly. “That seems like a worthy path.”

System: [And after that, you’ll take him to bed and show him the joys of—]

“Stop!” Luo Xianyun interjected. “Why does the second method still lead to… dual cultivation?”

He had taken care to phrase it delicately.

System: [In method one, he is eager and you are unwilling—love follows marriage. In method two, you both fall deeply in love, and mutual desire follows.]

Luo Xianyun: …

He was starting to suspect that this so-called Savior System was less a divine inheritance and more a problematic inner demon—just like Duanmu Wuqiu’s Destruction System.

No wonder Duanmu Wuqiu worried over his own system. Anyone would, if their inner voice tempted them like this.

Perhaps, Luo Xianyun considered, my prolonged injury has allowed demonic qi to infiltrate my body, shaking my moral foundation and birthing this dangerous inner demon.

He brooded over it for some time, but ultimately chose to believe the Savior System was indeed an ancestral force—albeit one slightly corrupted on its journey to the mortal realm.

“Honored forebear,” he said with care, “from what I understand, the destruction threatening this world is not the work of any one person. It is a calamity destined for all of heaven and earth. And yet, every method you’ve presented revolves entirely around Duanmu Wuqiu, as though the fate of the world rests solely with him. I do not believe he holds such power.”

Savior System: [Perhaps not yet. But one day, he will.]

[The world may fall by his hand—or be remade by it.]

[The mysteries of heaven are not to be revealed lightly. In time, you will understand.]

The Savior System’s words, for once, carried the gravitas of ancient wisdom.

Just as Luo Xianyun began to feel the faint stirrings of belief, the system added:

System: [Still, method one is highly efficient, and his personality lends itself well to direct methods. Are you sure you won’t try it?]

“I am sure,” Luo Xianyun replied gravely.

Yes. There was definitely something wrong with the system.