AUOF - 111

Since waking up, Ji Hengyu had been staying in Shuoguang Hall, with only Qi able to approach him.

Sometimes he wouldn’t speak for two whole days. Apart from working at his desk, he would patrol the abyssal prison. By night, he would head alone to the Wutong Forest, staying there the entire evening. Even someone as slow as Qi could sense something was amiss.

—Presumably, Lord Ji and Miss Sang Li had a falling out.

This couldn’t go on. After much deliberation, Qi cautiously ventured, “Will you be going to the Wutong Forest tonight, my lord?”

As soon as these words were spoken, the already eerily quiet hall grew even more oppressive.

Ji Hengyu held a book in his hand, his thoughts deeply immersed. Though it seemed he was focused on reading, he hadn’t absorbed more than a few lines.

Qi inwardly cursed, realizing instantly that he had misspoken. Before he could explain, Ji Hengyu drooped his eyelids, indifferently flipping a page. “Tomorrow is the day of divine punishment; I won’t go.”

Oh right, it’s almost the day of divine punishment.

Qi didn’t know the details but couldn’t bear to see Ji Hengyu continue in this slump. His heart stirred, and his ugly face beneath the mask twitched twice with anxiety. Finally, he mustered the courage to ask, “Then… will you go after the day of divine punishment?”

Ji Hengyu raised his eyelids to look at him.

Qi shrank his neck and quickly changed the subject, “Anjing Tower has fallen, and the demon realm is in turmoil. If left without a leader for too long, it may affect the upper realms. Internal and external worries abound. My lord, you should take care of your health. Leave daily trivial matters to me and my sister.”

This year, the Nine Ling Realm wasn’t peaceful. The heavenly gates spread, evil creatures ran rampant, and even the demon realm was in □□.

Qi didn’t know what the gods’ domain was planning. The quieter the upper realms were, the more it suggested they were secretly observing Guixu.

Ji Hengyu hummed in acknowledgment, “Go and arrange to reinforce the formations in preparation for tomorrow.”

Qi nodded and turned to leave.

Ji Hengyu put down the book in his hand and stepped outside the hall.

Perhaps because winter was approaching, Guixu appeared more desolate than usual.

The back hall, left uncleaned for just a day, was covered with fallen leaves. He summoned the little leaf brooms, watching them grunt and clear the leaves, sighing involuntarily before turning back into the inner hall.

**

The next day.

Being the day of divine punishment, Guixu enforced curfew as usual. When night fell, Ji Hengyu, as always, ascended the crimson steps toward the Demon Suppressing Stone, differing only in that this time, Ji Hengyu didn’t let Qi accompany him.

The Demon Suppressing Stone, resembling a heart, pulsed rhythmically in the darkness. Its surface was covered with deep black veins tightly clinging to the red core like blood vessels. These were the “Deceptive Patterns,” the more of which indicated an uncontrollable rise in demonic energy, implying that the reappearance of the Demon God was only a matter of time.

Ji Hengyu, expressionless, placed his palm over it.

Instantly, as Fu Xi’s blood circulated, the Demon Suppressing Stone’s pulsations quickened. The Pillars of Heaven standing at four corners of Guixu Sea suddenly emitted a resonant hum, talismans flashed, and heaven and earth trembled.

Giant waves roared in the black sea, and faint murmurs drifted from afar.

His expression remained unchanged, steadfast in suppressing the demons.

A piercing cold light seeped into his eyes. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the chained Kui dragon’s pupils flashing atop the dome, seemingly silently enraged.

Stirred inside, he indifferently averted his gaze.

The Demon God’s consciousness invaded momentarily, pulling him into a hallucination. However, this time, Ji Hengyu was lucid.

Countless red mists swirled around him, filled with mocking laughter, grim cries, and hoarse shouts, enveloping him from all directions.

[Ji Hengyu, since you’ve chosen to fall into demonhood, why not release us now? We’ll help you become the ruler of the six realms!]

[Haha, Ji Hengyu, what are you hesitating about? Being indecisive isn’t the mark of a true man.]

[Release us now... just now...]

Ji Hengyu remained unmoved.

The color of the Demon Suppressing Stone shifted from dry to vividly fresh. He withdrew his hand, coldly laughing, “I haven’t fully condensed my demon bones yet. If I release you now, what if you devour me in retaliation?”

[Ji Hengyu, you...]

“Rest assured, when I achieve full power, I’ll let you emerge. But not now.”

Wait.

Just a little longer.

Ji Hengyu placed his hand on his chest.

Though the Demon Core had fully integrated with him, becoming a demon required absorbing more demonic barriers. The monthly day of divine punishment was the best opportunity to absorb demonic energy. It might take seven months, or perhaps five—it wouldn’t be long.

By then...

Ji Hengyu tilted his head to look at the thick clouds covering the vast sky.

Would the gods’ domain rest easy?

Lost in thought, he suddenly heard a violent rumble behind him.

The Pillar of Heaven, unscathed for thousands of years, tilted backward by an inch, tightening the soul-restraining chains. The iron chains stretched taut, showing signs of potential breakage.

Boom!

Thunder exploded.

Amidst the stormy rain of the night, the four giant dragons enshrouded in misty rain glared at him. Their four pairs of eyes burned like ghostly flames, ominous and menacing, brimming with anger.

Ji Hengyu’s forehead twitched. His shout drowned in the torrential rain, “Why are you looking at me like this! I just don’t want to be locked in this heaven and earth forever like you. Is that wrong?!” He stared defiantly at those cold, glowing red pupils, his trembling voice akin to a sob, “And I certainly don’t want to die like Father, unable to see my own wife and children.”

Ji Hengyu’s words were sharp as ice, their chilling undertones lingering in the rainy night.

A bolt of lightning struck the dragon, rain sliding down its cheek, its majesty tinged with an ambiguous sorrow.

“I want to live, even if despised by all beings! Cursed by future generations! I still want to live…”

His expression was resolute, clear yet decisive.

In the past, he didn’t care about life or death simply because there was nothing in the world worth lingering for. Now, he wanted to live because someone wanted him to live.

A roar.

The sea boiled, tearing open a fissure revealing the fiery red underworld below, with pairs of haunting blue eyes glaring fiercely.

Guixu’s protective formation began to shake uneasily—a warning of the Demon God’s attempted escape.

Qi flew up worriedly, “My Lord! The Pillar of Heaven is cracked, the talismans unstable, though timely repairs have been made!”

As he spoke, demons began crawling out of the sea.

Ji Hengyu unsheathed his sword and slashed through them, “Order the Elder Guardians to repair the Pillar of Heaven, and gather all disciples to the main hall for battle.”

“Yes.”

Qi flapped his wings and departed.

The moment the order was given, the entire Guixu Palace lit up with lanterns, all formations activated. Disciples stationed at the palace gates organized troops methodically. Yue Zhuqing and Li Ningxi each led a squad—one to pave the way for the Elder Guardians, the other to protect their advance.

Continuous streams of demons crawled out of the prison, circling above the palace, their shrill cries echoing beyond the horizon.

Seeing a disciple captured, Ji Hengyu thrust his sword, splitting the flying beast in two, yanking the stunned disciple, and sternly reminded, “Be careful.”

The disciple, already petrified, nodded dumbly.

Ji Hengyu turned back into the fray, his strikes merciless, killing with one blow, giving no chance for the demons to survive.

The demons imprisoned in Yuan Prison had long harbored resentment towards Ji Hengyu.

They abandoned their attempts to invade Guixu Palace, instead charging directly towards Ji Hengyu’s location.

These demons weren’t exterminated but rather imprisoned precisely because of their regenerative abilities.

Even when killed, their unique healing capabilities allowed them to re-coalesce and resurrect. Any demons present here, even small young ones, were ancient, hard-to-kill seeds.

Fighting against so many alone, Ji Hengyu, though capable for now, would eventually exhaust his strength.

Repairing the Pillar of Heaven would take some time. Gazing at Ji Hengyu battling countless demons, Yue Zhuqing furrowed her brows, slapping Li Ningxi’s shoulder, “You protect the elders. I’ll help Master.”

Li Ningxi also recognized the dire situation, nodding and focusing on guarding.

Yue Zhuqing soared on the wind, cutting down demons lunging at Ji Hengyu from behind, concernedly asking, “Master, are you alright?”

Ji Hengyu couldn’t say he was fine, nor could he say otherwise.

Having just expended a great deal of soul blood, he was in a weakened state. Continuing to fight like this, survival was hanging by a thread.

“What are you doing here?”

“I came to help you.”

“No need.” Ji Hengyu coldly refused, “They’re coming for me. I can handle it. If you come, I’d have to worry about your safety. Go to the elders and focus on repairing the Pillar of Heaven.”

Yue Zhuqing wanted to insist but knew Ji Hengyu’s nature well.

She sighed, seeing numerous demons charging towards Li Ningxi. The youth struggled to cope. With no choice, Yue Zhuqing had to abandon Ji Hengyu, returning to Li Ningxi’s side.

The perpetually tranquil outer heavens felt like midwinter tonight.

Coldness soared high, the sea surface covered with corpse water. Weapons and spells clashed in the night until the rain stopped, yet the peril showed no sign of abating.

Ji Hengyu gradually couldn’t hold on.

His sword firmly resisted the claws before him, while his keen peripheral vision caught a cold gleam lunging from behind. Unable to divert, hatred flared in his eyes. He activated his sword technique, thrusting through the demon, kicking it back into the sea, using the momentum to sidestep, preparing to avoid his vulnerable spots.

However, the anticipated sharp claws didn’t pierce his body.

Clang!

A beautiful feather soared through the air, binding the demon’s claws, wrapping twice before tossing it away.

Ji Hengyu’s usually calm eyes flickered with astonishment.

He looked over, his brow slightly twitching, ice melting in his eyes, finally unable to maintain his cold demeanor, leaving only slight unease and panic.

Sang Li rode an unfamiliar phoenix, her fingers entwined with painted bone feathers.

Her figure, clad in light blue, seemed to have slimmed down significantly, her chin sharper, her once rosy lips now pale pink, completely losing their previous vibrancy.

She seemed to have suffered greatly.

Ji Hengyu’s eyes reddened, momentarily forgetting the dangerous situation, staring unwaveringly at her.

His gaze conveyed too much.

Even standing upright, Sang Li still detected traces of disarray in his features.

He stood before her, stained with blood and wounds, tears shimmering in his eyes, feigning victimhood as if he were the one who had suffered immense injustice.

Sang Li’s heart twisted, but she had to remind him, “Be careful of what’s behind you.”

Without blinking, Ji Hengyu swung his sword, killing the demon, skillfully kicking the grotesque creature back into the abyssal prison. He paid no heed to the warm blood on his cheek, his lashes trembling carefully, his voice quivering, “How… did you come.”

He thought… he would wait in the Wutong Forest for a very, very long time before she would come to see him.

His tone was so humble and cautious.

Sang Li pursed her lips, ignoring that soft spot, pretending to be harsh, “I was waiting in the Wutong Forest yesterday, but you didn’t come. Knowing today was the day of divine punishment, I feared you’d die, so I came to collect your remains.” Pausing, averting her gaze, she muttered awkwardly, “No benefits gained, might as well claim some inheritance.”

She had waited and waited, growing impatient, originally thinking of giving up. But ultimately, she couldn’t overcome that hesitant feeling, so she came over anyway.

Ji Hengyu chuckled softly, a hot tear sliding down from the corner of his eye.

Sang Li’s emotions churned, her heart unsettled, “Are you... crying?”

Isn’t this a bit excessive?

She hasn’t cried!!! She’s the one who should be crying!

Ji Hengyu gave no answer, consecutively slaying several demons and rushing to Sang Li’s side, urgently reaching out to embrace her, but Sang Li retreated cautiously, avoiding him.

“Will you erase my memories again?” she asked, fear still lingering in her eyes.

Ji Hengyu had never regretted anything as much as he did now.

With unbearable pain, he trembled, shaking his head, “No.” His eyelashes quivered slightly, sadness and reluctance floating in his eyes, “Sang Sang, I won’t do anything to hurt you. I just… don’t want you to hate me.”

Sang Li forced a smile, lowering her eyes to scan the chaos below.

Ignoring the tiny plea in Ji Hengyu’s eyes, she solemnly said, “Let’s clean this place up first.”

Ji Hengyu retracted his arms meant to embrace her, nodding, “Alright.”

He anxiously asked again, “Then, when it’s over, will you reject me?”

Sang Li was somewhat speechless, rolling her eyes at him, “That’s something to discuss after it’s over.”

Besides, she hadn’t decided to forgive him yet.

Sang Li ignored Ji Hengyu, turning back into the demon suppression battle.