The Demon King Has Been Plotting This for Ages, and So Have I

[A mischievous, spirited healer versus a proud, multifaceted demon king: a clash between two stubborn, beautiful souls scarred by tragedy]

[A childhood sweetheart who appears out of nowhere + multiple secret identities + devoted love on both sides + a slow-burn dance of push and pull + a tender romance that grows over time]

After Nan Zhu Yuxi is born into the prehistoric world as a spirit clan heiress, she tries to strike a deal with the wicked demon Ruo Jie to bring her parents on Earth back to life.

She thinks they only happened to meet because they fought, but after several encounters, she realizes he's an old acquaintance, and that he has more than one secret identity.

So she quietly watches him show off his acting skills, all the while falling for him without a word. He, meanwhile, has already decided she is his future. That is, until the day she transforms into a divine clan princess in a splendid feathered robe and becomes engaged to someone else.

Furious, he adopts another secret identity and stays by her side in silence. The chasm between their identities and allegiances seems impossible to cross, yet they grow ever more in sync, drawing close and pulling away without ever needing to speak. Then she comes to believe she has accidentally killed his “one true love”...

Later, someone says all their misunderstandings are because neither of them knows how to speak up, but she says, “There's no misunderstanding between us. We simply have no choice.”

That night,

he rides to the battlefield alone, drenched in blood;

she wears a phoenix crown and bridal robes, and marries another man...

Later still, the hottest storybook in the prehistoric world is titled The Ice-Cold Demon King: Has He Lost His Secret Identity Today?

Ruo Jie scowls as he tears up the book without a word.

Nan Zhu Yuxi grins and twists the knife, piecing together the torn pages. “Well, who's got the nerve to make the mighty Demon King this angry? How dare they!”

His ears turn bright red. He grits his teeth and closes in, step by step. “Say that again! I'm getting angry!”

But she leans close to his ear, rises onto her tiptoes, and smiles. “How can I comfort you if you don't get angry?”