Everyone calls her the Red Lotus Demoness who plunged the Three Realms into chaos.
Barefoot and clad in red, she rings silver bells to claim lives and makes a point of opposing the immortal sects.
Zhuohua sneers. “I've killed those who deserved it and protected the souls I wanted to protect. What gives you the right to decide what's good or evil?”
The spirit veins are drying up, and the Three Realms are collapsing.
The immortal sects call her a vessel for the remnant soul of the Creation God and want her dead at any cost.
The demons see her as the key to breaking the stalemate and scheme relentlessly to win her over.
Only that rakish fox in red appears, languid as ever, whenever she's being hunted:
“Demoness, you owe me another life. What are you going to pay me with this time?”
Zhuohua touches the little wooden fox at her waist. A silver bell rings softly beneath her fingers.
“I hold my own life in my hands. But if you want it, I can give you half.”
Later, the Three Pure Ones lay a net from which there is no escape, the Buddha's disciple begins chanting the Soul-Deliverance Sutra, and even the Heavenly Dao demands that she sacrifice herself to quell the cataclysm.
Zhuohua draws her sword and shatters her shackles. The red lotus blooms in fury.
“I will save neither immortals, demons, nor all living beings. I will save only myself, ”
“Whoever stands in my way dies.”
