The Cold and Aloof Palace Master's Daily Demon-Slaying Life

"Master, you're back!"

Her voice was clear, sweet, and gentle, filled with undisguised joy and affection.

This is a girl who looks to be about sixteen years old.

She wore a classic pink ruqun (a type of traditional Chinese dress) with a high waist, the hem of which was embroidered with delicate peach blossom patterns.

She has a slender figure, snow-white skin, and an oval face as exquisite as a fairy in a painting. Her eyebrows are curved, her nose is delicate, and her lips are cherry-red. She smiles before she speaks, naturally exuding a charming and innocent allure.

What's most striking is her long, smooth, pink hair with a subtle sheen. On either side of her head, a tuft of hair sticks up, forming two fluffy, fox-ear-like shapes that tremble slightly with her emotions.

Behind her, beneath her skirt, a large, fluffy tail of the same pink color was swaying happily from side to side, showing its owner's excellent mood at the moment.

She is not human.

Instead, she was a fox spirit named Su Hongxiu.

Su Hongxiu was rescued by Li Baitian more than three hundred years ago on the outskirts of a village in the southern land that was being ravaged by monsters.

At that time, she had only recently gained sentience and her cultivation was weak. She was besieged by several more powerful demonic beasts and nearly lost her life.

Li Baitian casually slew the demon beast, and seeing that the little fox had no evil deeds and had never eaten people, he let it go. Unexpectedly, the pink little fox followed him all the way with pleading eyes.

Seeing its intelligence and clear eyes, he thought it might be good to keep the little fox as a pet, so he brought it back to Qingping Peak and spent his days with it.

This relationship has lasted for over three hundred years.

The little fox went from being ignorant to gradually understanding human affairs, and its cultivation steadily improved, eventually transforming into a human.

Her initial gratitude and awe towards Li Baitian gradually gave rise to a deep dependence and love.

However, Li Baitian was hampered by concerns about the difference between humans and demons, his own reputation, and some other inexplicable worries, so he never reciprocated her feelings and always treated her as a maid.

"Yes, you're back." Li Baitian looked at the smiling fox girl in front of him. The calm he had deliberately maintained since the Clear Peak shifted slightly, and a very faint gentleness, which he himself did not notice, flashed in his eyes.

"Master, are you tired? Hongxiu will make you some tea right away! It's your favorite 'Snow-capped Jade'!"

Su Hongxiu smiled radiantly, turned around quickly, and ran into the house with light steps, her pink tail swaying behind her, looking incredibly cute.

Li Baitian watched her figure disappear through the door, the gentleness in his eyes quickly fading and replaced by a deep, complex emotion.

He sat down on the stone bench, took the two swords from his waist, and placed them on the stone table.

He looked at the two swords on the table and fell into deep thought.

These two swords are his natal flying swords.

He had a sword called Qingping Sword, which he obtained from an ancient battlefield. It had been with him the longest. The sword was upright and sharp, and was mainly used for killing and advancing without hesitation.

My sword strikes like a blade of grass crossing the sea; though thousands may oppose me, I will go forth.

The other sword, named Peach Branch Sword, was forged by him after he traveled through the Hundred Thousand Mountains. He personally collected the core essence of a ten-thousand-year-old peach tree spirit that had failed to transform into human form during its tribulation. He then used it in conjunction with various rare spiritual materials and spent decades painstakingly refining it.

The sword is of a balanced and peaceful nature, containing vibrant vitality, and is primarily for defense, purification, and nourishment.

The sword moves like a peach branch brushing against the face, like a spring breeze and rain, nourishing things silently.

One attacks, one defends; one is forceful, one is yielding; one kills, one lives.

It symbolizes the two sides of his personality and also subtly reflects his unique cultivation philosophy of integrating the earth-shattering swordsmanship with the ever-changing and vibrant Dao of talismanic water.

He follows the path of ink-wash swordsmanship.

A single sword strike, seemingly ordinary, actually contains the true essence of ink painting, capable of creating art in the void. Wherever the sword energy goes, it can transform into mountains to suppress, rivers to flow, vines to entwine, or beasts to pounce... ever-changing and impossible to defend against.

It possesses both the ultimate attack and speed of a sword cultivator, and the unpredictability and ability to trap enemies of the ink painting style.

Therefore, he rarely encountered an opponent in the Purple Mansion Realm.

Li Baitian looked at his two natal swords, but his eyes were somewhat unfocused, as if he could see many past events through the swords, and also... his impending end.

He is not a fool.

Why did Master specifically send him to attend the enthronement ceremony of True Lord Zixu?

Behind his master's seemingly ordinary final instruction lay an almost imperceptible emotional fluctuation... and the chilling sense of foreboding that suddenly rose in his heart when he received the order.

All the signs put together, and the answer is already obvious.

He, Li Baitian, the seventh disciple of Fu Shui Zhenjun, the renowned "Sword Xuan Zhenren" and "Qingping Daxia," will likely face a perilous journey to Taihua Gate this time.

It is even highly likely that he was a pawn sacrificed in a power struggle between his master and some higher-level force.

A sacrifice used to test, provoke, and even create a "legitimate" enmity with the newly promoted True Lord Zixu.

Having figured this out, Li Baitian felt little anger, but rather a strange calm, even tinged with self-mockery and relief.

Anger? To the master who raised and taught you, who treated you like a son and a disciple?

He can't.

Master must have had his own unavoidable difficulties, unspeakable difficulties that even Master himself might find hard to resist.

Pushing himself out must have been hard for his master to bear.

Resentment towards the injustice of fate? Li Baitian lived a life of swift retribution, slaying demons and monsters, roaming the world, killing those who deserved to be killed, saving those who deserved to be saved, and enjoying the freedom and glory he deserved.

Compared to the vast majority of people in the world who live mediocre and mundane lives, he has lived a truly exciting and fulfilling life.

only……

His ideal burial place was neither a grand stage for a True Monarch Ceremony nor a cold chessboard for a contest between two powerful beings.

What he longed for was that wild land where snow and wind blew forever, monsters roamed freely, and danger lurked everywhere! It was after he beheaded a powerful demon at its peak, exhausted and seriously injured, that he leaned on his sword and laughed amidst the swirling snow and the rolling demon blood, ultimately fighting to the death. His body and sword were buried together beneath that most primitive, cruel, and pure land!

That is the most romantic and magnificent ending that a sword cultivator, a great sword immortal, a "Qingping Hero" who takes it upon himself to slay demons deserves!

At that moment, the unique, crisp fragrance of Snow Peak Greenery wafted from the room, mingling with the warm sweetness of the charcoal fire, gently pulling him back to reality from a sword immortal's romantic imagination about the final chapter of his life.

That was the perfect taste that Hongxiu had achieved by carefully controlling the water temperature and practicing countless times.

As the fragrance filled the air, he recalled the everyday moments he had shared with Hongxiu over the years—

When she first transformed into human form, she couldn't even tie her clothes properly. Her face flushed red as she ran to him, head bowed, her two fluffy fox ears pressed tightly against her scalp with embarrassment, and she asked softly, "Master... how should I tie this belt?"

He could only shake his head helplessly, then bent down and tied the pink sash into a neat knot for her.

She exuded a faint, sweet fragrance, like that of a newly blossoming peach.

……

On a birthday he had almost forgotten, he returned home late at night and saw a bowl of crooked, almost unrecognizable longevity noodles on the stone table in the courtyard, along with a small dish of charred pastries that were said to be peach blossom cakes.

She hid behind a pillar, peeking out only half her head and a pair of tense, perked-up ears, her tail swishing nervously across the ground.

Seeing him look at the appalling "delicious dish," her voice, barely audible, came through: "Um, well, I... I learned from the cook for three months... and I still messed it up..."

He didn't say anything at the time, but sat down and ate the noodles and snacks clean. Hmm, they were not very tasty, but it was the little fox's good intention.

……

On one occasion, upon returning from an outing, his spirit was injured, and he fell into a coma.

In a hazy state, he felt a pair of cool, soft hands gently wiping his forehead with a handkerchief soaked in spiritual spring water.

In my ears, I could hear her gentle humming, an off-key country lullaby that she had heard somewhere and was meant to lull children to sleep.

A few strands of her long pink hair fell beside his cheek, giving off a reassuring aura.

When he finally woke up, the first thing he saw was her curled up by the bed, with dark circles under her eyes, and her tail unconsciously draped gently over the corner of his blanket.

……

Those moments he once thought insignificant now felt like the dense vitality on the Peach Branch Sword, thread by thread, piercing through the romantic fantasy of "the sword immortal's final destination" and truly entangling his heart.

It turns out that what's more concrete than death is the inability to spend such ordinary, mundane days with her again.

It turns out that what is even harder to part with than the chivalrous reputation of slaying demons is the "Master" that has been called out in this courtyard for hundreds of years.

It turned out that what hurt him even more than the frustrating ending was the emotion he had kept buried deep in his heart and never responded to because of his concerns about the difference between humans and demons, the rules of the sect, and his own empty reputation.

He once thought that he had a long life ahead of him, long enough to hesitate slowly, long enough for there to be a "right time".

Now, fate seems to be mocking his cowardice and procrastination.

As death approaches, all the seemingly insurmountable obstacles that once stood in his way—the worldly perspective, his master's expectations, and even the heavy crown of "Qingping Hero"—seem so light and laughable at this moment.