The Weeping Moon: The Moon That Sheds Vermilion Tears Chapter 52. The Art of Unequal Bargaining

He leaned back in his chair and sighed. A slow, long breath that sohow felt heavier than it should. Why does this woman speak like every word was a slap politely wrapped in gift paper? And why, why, was it still kind of... endearing?

Clearly, he needed more rest. Or stronger dicine. Possibly both.

He looked around the room at the three others pretending not to laugh.

Song iyu was doing a terrible job holding in her laughter. Shen Zhenyu looked like he was biting the inside of his cheek. He Yuying had gone still, tea cup halfway to his mouth, eyes saying, please don’t look at , I’ll explode again.

And in the middle of all this chaos: Linyue. Calmly sipping her tea. Pretending she hadn’t just insulted his health, pride, and navigational skills all in one breath.

Shu Mingye cleared his throat, trying to recover so dignity. “What makes you think I’ll die from a little scratch?”

Linyue looked at him with perfectly blank face that sohow felt more insulting than words. “You got lost and showed up here at sunrise.”

A pause.

“It must be bad.”

“I didn’t get lost,” he muttered defensively.

He had excellent internal navigation. Top tier. Elite. Did she really think he just wandered in by accident? As if he tripped, rolled down so stairs, and crash-landed into their courtyard?

Linyue opened her mouth, most likely to fire off another polite insult disguised as concern, but just then, a faint glow ca from Song iyu’s sleeve. Her spirit transmission jade had lit up.

The four of them—Linyue, Song iyu, Shen Zhenyu, and He Yuying—froze. Then, slowly, they all turned to look at Shu Mingye.

No one said anything.

But their eyes said everything.

Please. Leave. Now.

He blinked. Did they just ntally kick him out of his own palace?

He stared back at them.

Song iyu gave him a polite smile. Shen Zhenyu’s face remained neutral, but his eyebrow had sohow developed a sharp edge of judgnt. He Yuying wasn’t even subtle, he just pointed at the door. And Linyue sipped her tea again, not even looking at him. Brutal.

Shu Mingye cleared his throat. “This is my palace.”

No one moved. The glowing jade buzzed again.

Shu Mingye calmly reached for the teapot, poured himself a cup, since no one seed interested in being a decent host and took a slow, deliberate sip.

Linyue raised her brows. “Just answer it.”

Song iyu, grumbling under her breath, pulled out the jade. “Master…”

Imdiately, a voice rang out from the jade—too dramatic for the hour, too cheerful for the mood: “Are you all alive?”

Linyue sighed. “Unfortunately, yes.”

From the jade ca the sing-song voice of Master Yin Xue, “There you are, my darling favorite, little Yueyue!”

Linyue: “…”

Shu Mingye nearly choked on his stolen tea. He had to look away, coughing into his sleeve to hide a very inappropriate laugh.

Master Yin Xue continued, this ti with the serious tone she only used when she was worried or dramatically pretending to be. “So… the Demon King didn’t curse you or anything, right? Just checking. Keep a safe ten-step distance. Preferably with a wall between you. And blink twice if you're being emotionally harassed.”

Shu Mingye, who had just lifted the teacup again, froze mid-sip.

Wait. Was that a real question? Or a joke? Or a test?

He hadn’t cursed Linyue. Obviously. He hadn’t done anything.

…Well, okay. Maybe a little sniffing. And yes, so unintentional rubbing during that half-dead, half-asleep mont on horseback. But that didn’t count, right? That was just survival snuggling. Perfectly acceptable in near-death situations. Totally not harassnt. Still, why was he nervous? He was the Demon King. He had survived north, assassination attempts, and three-hour etings with nobles.

Linyue didn’t help. She gave him a dry, almost pitying glance. Then turned her attention to the jade and said flatly, “No, but he drank my tea. I haven’t even had a pie… or a nap.”

“That’s bad,” Master Yin Xue replied, voice instantly filled with horror.

Wait. That was the part she found tragic? Not the sniffing? Not the maybe-rubbing? The true cri here… was stolen tea, lack of pie, and missing nap ti?

Before Shu Mingye could fully process the bizarre priority list, the voice ca again—bright and cheerful. Like she hadn’t just accused him of spiritual assault five seconds ago, “Anyway… have you found the herb I asked for? Anyone fall into a swamp yet? Or get lost in a haunted cave?”

At the word “swamp,” ti simply… stopped.

Song iyu froze mid-sip, tea dribbling down her chin, her eyes wide with haunted mories. Shen Zhenyu stopped mid-sigh, as if the ghost of wet socks had returned to haunt him. He Yuying’s eye twitched once. Twice. Linyue’s expression didn’t change, but her tea cup suddenly seed more comforting than usual. Even the breeze outside the window went quiet.

Oh, he understood now. That was why they had arrived at the palace looking like seaweed monster. That explained the sll. And the moss. And the squelch sound when they walked.

He let out a sudden laugh. A real one. It echoed through the courtyard room and bounced off four unimpressed faces.

Was that why they ca here? Searching for rare herbs in the Forest of Shulin, known for its magical plants, poisonous bugs, sneaky frogs, and mud that could swallow a horse? And sowhere between the swamp and the palace, they had ended up impersonating royalty as a side quest? Or... was impersonating royalty the main quest and the swamp was the accidental horror bonus?

He didn’t know. What he did know was this: the four swamp survivors across from him were now glaring at him.

He calmly sipped his stolen tea in absolute silence, pretending not to notice.

From the glowing jade, Master Yin Xue’s voice rang out again—sharp, suspicious, and far too awake for this hour. “Who is laughing like a lunatic there?”

Linyue answered without missing a beat. “The Demon King.”

There was a pause.

“He is there?” Master Yin Xue asked, voice suddenly high with alarm.

“Mhm,” Linyue replied, still sipping tea like nothing was wrong.

“Oh, so he already knew about the fake princess then?”

“Should be.”

“Then… are you all in prison now?”

“No,” Linyue said blandly. “We’re in my chamber.”

Another pause. A longer one.

Then ca the scandalized gasp. “He is also in your chamber??”

Linyue glanced sideways at Shu Mingye. She answered plainly. “Yes. Probably lost. But he didn’t want to admit it.”

Shu Mingye nearly choked.

Song iyu made a squeaking noise.

Shen Zhenyu pressed his knuckles against his lips.

He Yuying exhaled sharply and muttered, “Unbelievable.”

Shu Mingye set the teacup down and said with utmost calm, “I am not lost.” The teacup cracked from the pressure of his grip. A single chip landed sadly on the table.

Linyue didn’t even look at him. She just turned back to the glowing spirit jade. “Anyway Master, we picked up a peak cultivator. Fourth level. Do you want him?”

Shu Mingye slowly turned his head to stare at her.

Picked up? Like a stray dog? Was she talking about General Zimo? She said it like they found him abandoned by the roadside with a sad little “Please adopt ” sign.

Before he could say anything, Master Yin Xue’s voice ca through, absolutely delighted. Clearly forgetting about the swamp and the Demon King in her chamber. “Reaaallly?? Where did you pick up a peak cultivator? Who is it? Did you kidnap him?”

Linyue answered flatly, “Imperial palace. General Zimo. Yes.”

Shu Mingye: “…”

Wait. Did she just admit to kidnapping the mighty General Zimo just like that? With no sha and zero hesitation.

Master Yin Xue squealed like a proud parent. “Amaaziiiing!!! You even kidnapped the mighty general! Yueyue, you’ve outdone yourself! I’m so proud!”

Shu Mingye blinked. Amazing? That was the takeaway? Not “why”? Not “you’re wanted criminals now”? Just… “great job on abducting a war hero”?

He glanced around the room.

Song iyu was beaming. Shen Zhenyu looked like this was all completely normal. He Yuying nodded while sipping his tea.

Shu Mingye sat there, utterly baffled. Were these people even operating on the sa moral compass as the rest of the world?

Linyue, in her usual calm, helpful tone, added thoughtfully, “But he’s missing an eyeball.”

There was a brief pause.

Then Master Yin Xue cheerfully declared. “It’s fine, it’s fine! His cultivation makes up for the missing eyeball. I just made so new drugs, he’ll be a perfect test subject… I an candidate.”

Shu Mingye stared at the glowing jade.

A test subject?

He looked around the room again.

Song iyu had clasped her hands in delight. Shen Zhenyu nodded like this was a perfectly reasonable dical decision. He Yuying stirred his tea, very pointedly not making eye contact.

Was he… sitting among a gang of polite herb hunters who doubled as rogue kidnappers and part-ti human experinters?

He stared into his teacup hoping it could offer answers.

It did not.

Should he be worried? Was he next on their testing list?

He had sniffed Linyue once. No twice. Maybe more? And maybe accidentally rubbed his cheek on her shoulder that one ti. He might’ve clung to her waist a little too long. Was that enough for these people to knock him out and take his spleen for science?

Shu Mingye very quietly slid the teacup back onto the table. No more tea. Not in this room.

He was the Demon King of Shulin. Feared. Dangerous. Ruthless. He never imagined the day would co when he would feel out-crazied.

Now it all made sense. Why they hadn’t flinched around him, hadn’t cowered or stamred like most people did. Because compared to these four?

He was the normal one. Completely, utterly normal.

Then Linyue, as if none of this had been weird at all, leaned slightly toward the jade and asked, “Then… about the herbs?”

Shu Mingye turned his head in slow motion. Was she negotiating? Was she really trying to trade Zimo for so herbs quest? A whole peak-level cultivator. Missing eyeball or not. Was that all he was worth? Was this how common sense died?

Master Yin Xue replied imdiately, cheerful but firm, “Of course. Find them first, then co back.”

Translation: suffer more before going back.

Negotiation: failed.

A heavy silence fell. The four swamp survivors stared at each other, defeated. Their expressions said it all: we’re going back in.Back to the swamp.