Butterfly of the Withered Leaves: Three Thousand Enchantments

Ten years ago, she was valiant and dashing, as beautiful as a flower. She shot through the Dragon Prison and snatched away a demon who had been locked up for 300 years, right under Emperor Jing's nose, beginning a lifetime of love and torment that would be etched into her heart. Ten years later, beside the city gate of an unknown waystation town, half her face ruined and her life lonely and wretched, she kept company with wine day after day. She remembered nothing of the past, yet waited, lovesick, for someone to return and meet her again. An infernal fire swept through, leaving behind an empty city locked in eternal night. A hundred ghosts roamed and a thousand demons crossed the border. The human world was on the verge of falling into a cataclysmic chaos. A seductive fox took the form of a handsome man and risked his life to protect her, only to repay her kindness in feeding him. A black-clad steward was neither wholly righteous nor wholly wicked, yet kept his promises at any cost, with nine tails and nine lives. A goshawk and a yellow hound, once the object of someone's admiration, met again on opposing sides, drawing their blades against each other, love severed and hearts wounded. In a story too painful to imagine, too painful to tell, behind the departing figure, a jade-green butterfly flitted its wings... Who belongs to whose past? And who gave up the past for someone else, leaving everything behind? Huh... Who are you asking about, huh... Anyway, who'd bother with all this when there's a man living just to get a sesame flatbread? Come on! Grab your gear, let's go! Handsome demons, line up and let me ruffle your fur and squeeze your paws. If you're not handsome, if you can bear to die, I can bear to bury you. Since you've forsaken the rules of demons and chosen to follow me, you must protect me! I'll raise my silver bow to the moon and guard this empty city through the eternal night! [Warning: This anti-cliche, hilariously absurd tragicomedy is now beginning. Demons run rampant and the laughs keep coming, but the plot will break your heart and the writing will wound your lungs. Anyone unsuited to hearty laughter, including those who have had surgery, have weak lung capacity, are naturally stone-faced, or look even more miserable when they smile, should steer clear.] Do you want to read it? Do you want to read it? Or do you want to read it? I'm not forcing anyone. And by the way: however many demons there are, that's how many we'll torment. The bigger your heart, the farther your fantasies can roam.