The Demoness Bride
A journey through time and space unfolds against a backdrop of intrigue and war. An enlightened woman, trapped in an unhappy marriage, unexpectedly finds herself inhabiting the body of a Yaksha woman on a distant star. Everything seemed ordinary until her honest husband revealed a mysterious identity; their child, not of their own blood, suddenly became entangled in royal secrets. Seeking a peaceful life, she is forced into the army; hoping to muddle through her days, she is exiled to the battlefield. Wanting to keep her head down for a lifetime, fate insists she stand at the eye of the storm. So be it—let everything take its course. Lacking courage, she learns to be brave; never having witnessed killing, she learns the art of murder. Why are fragments of the Yaksha’s memories missing, and how did the old monk appear? Who is she, you ask? My husband knows everything. Whether a refined gentleman, a gentle yet resolute emperor, a learned strategist, or a valiant and handsome warrior, she faces every challenge: when soldiers come, she meets them; when floods rise, she builds dams. Watch as she carefully navigates court intrigue and the chaos of war. **************************************************** The synopsis is slightly revised with a touch of humor. The story focuses on war and intrigue, offering a light and enjoyable read.
The Demoness Bride
The sudden strains of “King and Queen’s Song” blared out at the most inopportune moment. Kaiming paused, lifting her hands from the keyboard in irritation, and raised her phone: “What is it?”
“I’m almost home. Do you want me to bring you something for a late-night snack?” The voice on the other end was eager.
“No need!” She hung up coldly, but then hesitated, dialed again, and said, “If you’re out having fun, at least bring some barbecue home for your wife.”
“What?…” The other party tried to protest, but she hung up again.
She returned to pounding the keyboard, sneering. What a show of false affection. Four years married, three years in separate rooms; the first year only together because she was pregnant, but even then, barely. Day to day, they lived their own lives, speaking only over meals. Was this what a husband was supposed to be?
“It’s like there are two children in this house,” she often said. Marriage was not marriage; a husband, not a husband. Faye Wong’s “The Most Familiar Stranger” could have been written for her.
“Still the same?” Enna could not help but ask.
Kaiming nodded vigorously. Enna lamented, “You’re a modern woman—why put yourself through this? There are plenty of men in the world. Are you planning to live like a widow forever?”
“You don’t understand. What marriage isn’t full of storms? Divorce is even more troublesome than marriage.”
“Do you really want to keep living like this?” Enna studied her, then suddenly laughed. “A man who thinks twice a year is too much—can you call that a normal man?
