For various reasons, Mu Anxiao had grown curious about Yang Tai.
However, after being confronted by Zhu Yang and Ma Kai, she began reflecting on how she had pressured Yang Tai earlier. Suddenly, she felt that she had indeed been somewhat unreasonable—wasting time on such matters was utterly pointless.
So, she sighed and said, "Forget it, I won’t ask anymore." With that, she turned her back and looked directly at Gu Xiao, who was staring at her.
Gu Xiao: "That part of his past is painful for him too. Thank you for letting it go."
*What a strange thing to say—"thank you for letting it go."* Mu Anxiao found the phrasing odd, but since Gu Xiao was in an invisible state, she decided not to comment further to avoid unnecessary trouble.
"......"
Gu Xiao smiled. "You're a good person."
Mu Anxiao looked at his smiling face, sighed helplessly, and nodded as if to say, *Yes, I know I’m a good person.*
But Gu Xiao didn’t understand her meaning and asked, "Am I wrong?"
Mu Anxiao had no way to respond. She cleared her throat, averted her gaze, and turned away.
Because of what had just happened, the other spirits and demons no longer dared to engage much with Mu Anxiao, instead chatting among themselves.
And so, Mu Anxiao found herself bored.
Yang Tai’s past was indeed a rugged one. From the moment he cultivated into a demon and took human form, he had been driven away by all sorts of people—for no other reason than that he was *too* handsome.
The five women he had killed, however, had never driven him away. Instead, they had humiliated him. Their actions could be said to be even more despicable than those who had cast him out.
Those five women were infamous brothel madams, but their establishments catered mostly to young men. At the time, Yang Tai had just been expelled from another town and happened to arrive in this one.
Starving, he lingered outside the brothel. The five women stepped out, spotted him, and immediately began fawning over him, each more eager than the last to strike up a conversation.
As the saying goes, *excessive courtesy often harbors deceit.* Sensing their intentions, Yang Tai quickly walked away.
Yet, not long after, they tracked him down again. This time, they lied to him, claiming the brothel was short-staffed and asking for his help. Since Yang Tai was penniless, he agreed.
Only after arriving did he realize the place wasn’t lacking in workers—what it lacked were smooth-talking men.
After some time, Yang Tai discovered the truth: this was a den that deceived women, a place where men could find concubines.
This was how Yang Tai understood it:
The men in this town were all men of status. At home, they neglected their wives, and in their free time, they indulged in pleasure elsewhere.
Taking advantage of this, the five women had opened what appeared to be a brothel catering to men—but in reality, it was a trap to lure women into missteps, secretly arranging concubines for men in the shadows.
At first, Yang Tai couldn’t make sense of it. But as time passed, he saw the truth and demanded to leave.
Yet, those five shrews were ruthless. That very night, they drugged him, disfigured his face, and then—their attitudes toward him did a complete 180.
They forced him out of his fine robes, dressed him in coarse cloth, and subjected him to endless orders, commanding him to do this and that.
Unwilling to anger the gods, Yang Tai endured.
And so, he endured—for ten years.
Ten years later, by a well, he met a woman beaten black and blue, on the verge of jumping to her death.
Unlike the others, this woman told Yang Tai that she had only come to spite her husband—but they had drugged her, leading her to make a mistake that night.
The next day, when she returned home, she found one of the brothel’s women already in her husband’s arms. The people here had revealed her "indiscretion" to her husband, and she was handed a letter of divorce.
At that moment, Yang Tai lost all remaining sympathy for this den of depravity. He convinced the woman not to take her life and promised to help her. Hearing this, she abandoned her suicidal thoughts.
Only after she left did Yang Tai truly reflect: these five women claimed to be helping neglected wives, but in truth, they were harming them in another way—raising young girls to sell into wealthy households, profiting from their misery.
The men? They were just tools for making money.
And he—he was one of them.
Disfigured, deceived, and abused—this was the life he had endured for ten long years. He had had enough.
A few days later, the woman died anyway. They pinned the crime entirely on Yang Tai. He was thrown into prison, subjected to endless curses and humiliation from the townspeople.
Their words awakened a murderous rage in him.
In the end, he shed his old skin and killed them all.
As for why he refused to speak of it? Because he found it shameful.
A demon, humiliated and oppressed by women for ten years—the thought was utterly ridiculous.
So, he stayed silent.
Zhu Yang asked, "Yang Tai, why won’t you talk about your past?"
Yang Tai: "I already told you!"
"You did, but not in detail."
"Whether it’s detailed or not, what difference does it make if you know?" Yang Tai turned to glare at Zhu Yang.
Zhu Yang blinked. "No difference, just curious."
"Curiosity kills the cat—better keep your mouth shut," Yang Tai retorted, shooting him a sharp look.
Gu Xiao watched Yang Tai’s cold expression, recalling the past Yang Tai had once confided in him. His heart grew heavy as he muttered, *If Mu Anxiao knew... would she help him?*
Back when Mu Anxiao had come to capture Yang Tai, he had considered explaining his past to her. But since her reputation was already in tatters by then, he ultimately gave up.
In his mind, every demon and spirit she captured must have had their own tragic stories—different from his, but painful all the same. So, while wanting to help himself, he also wanted to teach Mu Anxiao a lesson on behalf of those captured souls.
Yet, after their battle, he inexplicably lost consciousness—and when he woke up, he was already in the underworld.
That experience filled him with hatred for Mu Anxiao.
Only now had Yang Tai’s opinion of her softened slightly—because this time, he had truly lost.
This time, he had descended willingly.
Meanwhile, Gu Xiao, torn between speaking up or staying silent, glanced at Yang Tai, who remained wordless.
On the other side, Mu Anxiao—uncomfortable with the awkwardness—walked over to Feng Qishi.
"Hey, are you done yet?" She nudged his arm with her elbow.
Feng Qishi, eyes closed: "One last one."
"Wait—" Mu Anxiao frowned. "Are you only calling Hei Feng?"
"......" Feng Qishi muttered something silently before opening his eyes to look at her. "Hei Feng has a superior. If I only summon him, his boss won’t be happy. Besides, he can’t handle all of them alone."