The Demon King's Pastry Chef

Shen Qingfeng, a 23-year-old top pastry chef, transmigrated wearing a windbreaker and carrying homemade pastries, only to land in a ruined temple.

She picked up a money pouch, and a man too: Xie Linfeng, an easygoing great demon.

He ate her strawberry cake, egg-yolk pastries, and sago pudding, his eyes lighting up.

“From now on, you’ll cook for me.”

She looked at his bulging money pouch, her eyes lighting up too.

“You invest, I open a shop, and we split the profits fifty-fifty.”

And so, Honeyed Fate Pavilion opened on Vermilion Bird Street in the capital.

She was the owner, and he was the investor. She taught the kitchen maids to make pastries, while he taste-tested them. She designed the Mid-Autumn Festival gift boxes, and he said, “Stamp a fox emblem on the lid.” When she worked late into the night, he would silently appear in the study doorway and startle her.

She thought theirs was a harmonious business partnership.

That is, until a young master started inviting her to dinner every few days.

That night, Xie Linfeng sat in the courtyard waiting for her to return, his tone strangely cold.

“Why don’t you eat with me?”

“You’ve never asked me to!”

He fell silent for a moment, then said coldly, “Tomorrow night, I’ll take you to dinner.”

Later, she was set up by a friend of that young master.

Xie Linfeng broke down the door and took her back to his residence.

The night dissolved into chaos.

The next morning, he gripped her chin and said, word by word:

“You slept with me, so now you have to take responsibility.”

Shen Qingfeng: “...I was drugged!”

“I don’t care.” He lowered his head and bit her lip until it broke. “From now on, you belong to me alone.”

She thought they were starting a business together, but from the very beginning, he never intended to be just her “business partner.”