Shapeshifters

When I was still a little fox, the crown prince rescued me from a trap.

He took me home and raised me for nine years.

Then, at fifteen, he fell in love with a girl.

The imperial family said her birth was beneath him.

So I found him a divine herb that could summon the image of a phoenix in the sky.

On their wedding day, I happily went off to the feast to sneak a bite of pork knuckle.

Before I could get any, he came to feed me a bowl of meat broth, just as he always did.

I drank it and passed out as though drunk.

When I woke, my inner core was gone.

I sacrificed three tails just to cling to life.

Taking human form, I returned to his side.

And saw my inner core hanging around the neck of his beloved wife.

In the Fifth Year of Taiyuan, at the Start of Summer, a princess died in the Beiliang Royal Palace.

And a toad.

Anping was that unfortunate princess.

And I was that unfortunate toad.

Fortunately, since her death, I have become her.

I picked up a beautiful black snake.

I often held it in my palm, idly playing with it.

Its tail would coil around my arm, the cool sensation so pleasing I could hardly bear to let go.

Later, in the depths of night, that same cool tail wrapped around my waist, my stomach, and my thighs, bringing an entirely different kind of sensation.

For a thousand-year-old black snake demon, humans are dangerously clever creatures best avoided.

But curiosity draws Yun Chongyu into the mortal world, where she becomes entangled with the ruthless monk Yuanzhen and befriends the kindhearted scholar Su Kan.

Through desire, grief, vengeance, sacrifice, and reincarnation, she slowly learns that love takes many forms—and that even a monster can find a home, a family, and a heart of her own.

Everyone in my family had sickly bones.

My eldest sister coughed three times for every three steps, spat blood every third day, and fainted every fifth.

My brother’s bones broke at a touch—one a month, seven or eight times a year.

I alone had a head of iron and a body of bronze.

I could ram a peach tree with my forehead to bring down the fruit.

The tree shook, the peaches fell, and I was perfectly fine.

When I was seven, an eminent monk passed by.

One look at me, and he blurted out: “Bronze skin over bone.

A demon born.”

I couldn’t be bothered to listen.

I charged him headfirst and knocked him flat on his back.

It took him ages to wake up.

When he did, he laughed instead of getting angry and asked my parents: “Would you have your children live long lives, sound in body and bone?”

“Take one bone each from your eldest daughter and your son.

Nurture them beside your youngest daughter’s heart, then cut them out when she turns eighteen.”

“Your eldest daughter will then rise like the sovereign moon, and your son will be the richest man in the realm.”

My parents trembled.

“And this girl?”

The monk held my wrist, half closed his eyes, and chuckled out a little song: “No future as a human.

As a beast, she’ll have plenty of room to roam.”

My virginity was sold by my family to a seventy-year-old tycoon for the steep price of one million yuan.

The price was fair, all things considered. After all, I wasn’t just selling my virtue; I was selling my life.

On our wedding night, the old man squeezed my throat and asked, “Do you have any final wishes?”

To stay alive, I told him three stories.

And then, I made a prophecy.

“You will die within my third story.”