AUOF - 108

The final memory lingered on Ji Xun’s departure from the Phoenix Tree.

He walked alone, trudging forward for what felt like an eternity.

What was he thinking about during this journey?

Was it the unfinished wedding? Or the identity that would forever remain unknown to others?

No one in this lifetime could answer.

The bright fragments of memory, now reduced to dust, only served to accentuate the cruelty etched into Ji Hengyu’s expression.

Suddenly, something long dead stirred back to life. He opened hollow eyes, and the gaping wound on his chest quickly healed as Ji Xun slowly rose to his feet. The moonlight outlined his lifeless features, stern and cold, like a statue frozen in snow and wind.

He spared not even a glance at Sang Li, as cold and unfeeling as ever.

Sang Li could hardly believe that the man who had been gentle just moments ago had now lost all emotion, reverting back into a puppet.

Staring blankly, she heard Ji Xun obediently call out, “Master.”

Ji Hengyu’s lips curled into a satisfied smile, though it lacked pride. He turned to Sang Li and said, “He lives.”

He lives?

Does he truly live?

What he had been given was another form of death.

It would have been better to let Ji Xun die outright than to subject him to such humiliation.

Sang Li was seething with anger, her hands clenching into fists.

The silkworm curse bound emotions and fostered feelings. Ji Hengyu must have known this day would come. From the moment he placed his heart within Ji Xun’s chest, Ji Xun was destined to be more than just an ordinary puppet.

Perhaps, from the moment Ji Hengyu made that choice, he had already chosen this outcome.

But what if Ji Hengyu hadn’t fallen in love with her?

Would he have silently watched, manipulating a sentient puppet to fall in love with her? And when he grew tired or found a way to dissolve the curse, would he have disposed of both the puppet and her?

His affection was a variable, but the one constant in this equation was how he treated Ji Xun.

Sang Li couldn’t bear it.

She closed her eyes in anguish, unable to endure being deceived—let alone seeing Ji Hengyu toy with people’s hearts in this way.

Her brows furrowed deeply, and she couldn’t bring herself to look at him again.

Ji Hengyu loosely clenched his palm, drawing the black and red energies back into his consciousness.

His gaze was unreadable—was he still lost in confusion, or had he regained some awareness? Sang Li leaned toward the latter.

Those crimson eyes locked onto her, their silence laced with danger. Without a word, he turned away.

Realizing she intended to leave, Ji Hengyu abruptly grabbed her.

His grip was far from gentle, carrying an air of forced control, which only deepened Sang Li’s unease.

“What do you intend to do?” Sang Li struggled to rein in her trembling emotions. “Are you planning to kill me too?”

In the past, Ji Hengyu’s touch had always been cold. Now, the hand gripping her burned like fire, its heat spreading through her. She momentarily forgot her fear, meeting his gaze with calm disappointment.

“Sang Sang,” he murmured, his lips parting. “I won’t kill you, nor will I give you a reason to hate me.”

Sang Li’s pupils contracted as she instantly understood the meaning behind his words.

Her shock overwhelmed her, and she stammered, “You… You intend to treat me the same way you treated Ji Xun?”

She pressed further, desperate for confirmation: “You want to erase my memories too?”

Ji Hengyu stepped closer. “After tonight, you won’t remember Ji Xun, nor anything that happened tonight. From this moment on, your life will belong solely to me.”

He spoke these terrifying, possessive words in a deceptively gentle tone.

Sang Li nearly forgot to flee as he advanced step by step, his oppressive presence forcing her to retreat until she stumbled against a broken tree trunk behind her, cutting off any escape.

The jagged edge grated painfully against her spine, but she no longer had the strength to cry out.

Ji Hengyu paid no heed to her fear or resistance. Slowly raising his hand, his fingertips shimmered with an icy, crystalline glow.

Tears welled up in her eyes.

She would rather see Ji Hengyu lost in the haze of karmic hindrance than witness him act so irrationally while fully lucid.

With no way out, Sang Li could only clutch the wood behind her, her eyes brimming with redness. A mix of sorrow and rage shook her voice as she hissed at him, “Ji Hengyu, you’ve gone mad—!”

Ji Hengyu casually brushed his gaze over her, each word deliberate as they grazed her ears—

“Sang Li,” he said, “I have never been sane.”

Sang Li lowered her gaze, tears slipping down her cheeks.

She trembled uncontrollably, like a thorny weed swaying in the rain. Even the vibrant red of her robes couldn’t mask the pallor of her face.

“Ji Hengyu, how dare you do this to me?!” Her voice cracked with suppressed sobs. “You were the one who wanted to kill me; you were the one who wanted my love. And now, you want to steal my memories? But this situation—it wasn’t caused by me. It was you!”

As she spoke, Sang Li suddenly realized something.

Shaking her head, her tone resigned and hollow: “Ji Hengyu, you’ve never considered my feelings.”

Ji Hengyu’s fingers paused mid-motion.

“If you truly loved me, you wouldn’t think to control me this way.”

What is love?

If she valued freedom, he wouldn’t try to make her stay.

Disappointment filled Sang Li’s eyes. “Is this your true nature? Or has the silkworm curse, now back in your chest, clouded your judgment?”

A sharp pain struck Ji Hengyu, causing him to grunt softly.

He shook off the fog clouding his mind, struggling to maintain his thoughts. His voice rasped as he replied, “It’s my nature. You should have known by now—I’ve always been selfish.”

Ji Hengyu didn’t want Sang Li to see this vulnerable side of him.

He knew her well enough to understand that she would harbor resentment toward him. He didn’t want her to hate him because of a mere puppet.

Or perhaps, he feared that Ji Xun had carved out a place in her heart.

At first, it might have been a faint fondness—but eventually, those small details would magnify his flaws.

Rather than let that happen…

“But Sang Li…”

Hearing him finish, Sang Li stopped crying and abandoned her pleas. She knew Ji Hengyu was determined to go through with it.

The thought of having her memories stolen in this way filled her with revulsion. She couldn’t bear to see him descend further into madness driven by karmic hindrance.

Closing her eyes, she reopened them with a newfound resolve.

In the next moment, as he called her name, she summoned her protective scale and, with fierce determination, drove the blade-like scale into his chest.

There was no hesitation, no trace of mercy.

Ji Hengyu’s words cut short.

His eyes showed no surprise, calm and unmoving, like a frozen sea devoid of waves. Scarlet blood stained the translucent scale embedded in his chest, but Sang Li bit down hard, refusing to relent even as her palm bled from the strain.

Ji Hengyu lowered his lashes, watching the wound in his chest. His eyelashes fluttered slightly as his fingers gently caressed the back of her tensed hand. After a pause, he continued, “But Sang Li, I love you—not because of the silkworm curse. Whether it exists or not, my feelings for you remain unchanged.”

His drooping eyes softened, revealing a rare vulnerability. “I don’t want you to hate me… I’d rather you kill me than despise me.”

He made no move to evade or resist, instead leaning into her embrace, pulling her close. This sudden proximity drove the scale deeper into his heart.

The embrace caught her off guard. Sang Li’s pupils quivered, her mind blank, and she forgot to push him away.

Warm blood flowed between them, mingling together and soaking their clothes.

Overwhelmed by a sense of helplessness and dread, tears streamed down her face. Her body finally responded, thrashing wildly to escape the bloody embrace. But Ji Hengyu refused to let her go, tightening his grip around her waist to immobilize her.

“Let me go! Release me!” Sang Li shouted in desperation.

Ji Hengyu ignored her struggles completely, gripping her chin and lowering his head to claim her lips.

Trapped between him and the tree, Sang Li couldn’t break free. The bleeding wound in his chest seemed to affect him not at all. He pressed his knee into her, capturing her lips in a brutal kiss, biting and sucking.

The metallic taste of blood spread between them, his rapid breaths brushing against her face. Sang Li’s eyes reddened under his violent assault.

His burning palm clamped down on the back of her neck, the burning sensation of his spell spreading from his fingertips deep into her.

Startled, Sang Li summoned her spiritual energy to protect her consciousness, finally letting go of the last shred of hesitation. She pulled out the scale and plunged it in again.

The suffocating pressure lifted.

His labored breathing echoed through the depths of the forest.

Sang Li’s lips were smeared with blood, the crimson stark against her pale complexion, highlighting the emptiness in her eyes.

Ji Hengyu frowned at the wound, swaying unsteadily as he reached out to her once more. But before his hand could touch her, his eyes closed, and he collapsed heavily before her.

Cold sweat drenched Sang Li’s back.

His spiritual energy was dissipating, scattering like fireflies into the endless night and dry branches.

Certain that Ji Hengyu wouldn’t rise again, Sang Li collapsed weakly before him, pulling him into her arms with great effort.

Even at this critical moment, the karmic patterns on his body showed no signs of fading.

Summoning her eight tails, their fluffy forms swayed behind her, glowing like the moon. The tips of the tails curled affectionately around her shoulders.

Sang Li bit her lip as she gazed at Ji Hengyu, recalling the prophecy spoken by the True Lord of Wushan Du’e—

“The silkworm curse can only be undone by death.”

Her throat burned as she closed her eyes, channeling the four directions’ spiritual energy into her dantian. Ensuring everything was in place, she gritted her teeth and severed one of her tails.

The pain of severing her tail felt like having her bones torn apart.

Sweat mixed with tears streaked her face. For a fleeting moment, she thought of letting him die, blaming him entirely for everything. Why bother making things easier for him?

But she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

She was hurt, yes—but more than anger, she felt wronged.

He had claimed to love her, yet he deceived and betrayed her.

Through her sobs, Sang Li began transferring life force to Ji Hengyu, mending his wounds.

An endless stream of jade-white light flowed into him, restoring color to his hair and complexion.

Exhaustion threatened to overwhelm her, but she bit her tongue to stay conscious.

As the silkworm curse slowly unraveled, she watched the curse markings on Ji Hengyu’s inner wrist fade. When the last trace of red disappeared, two threads of red light emerged, entwining as they left their bodies.

Sang Li looked up, watching them converge in midair. Her eyes shimmered as she flicked a drop of crimson to envelop them.

The flickering flames illuminated her face.

Once bound by red strings, their fates intertwined. Now reduced to ash, only dust remained.