AUOF - 12

Sang Li stood up and brushed the dust off her sleeves. “Then I’ll be going.”

Ji Hengyu remained unmoved, continuing on his way.

Sang Li couldn’t shake the feeling that he wouldn’t let her go so easily, so she called out to his back once more: “I’m really leaving!”

Ji Hengyu still didn’t turn around, seemingly prepared to let her go.

She couldn’t fathom his thoughts, but considering they would soon become strangers, there was no need to understand him completely.

Sang Li cheered inwardly and chose a path opposite to his.

Suddenly, Ji Hengyu’s footsteps halted.

The jade fan in his hand instantly transformed into the Quexie Chi Cold Sword. Before the sword’s shadow could reach its target, its sharp light burst forth from its sheath.

The silver-blue glow of the sword was like ice crystals falling from the sky, slicing through the air with a piercing sound. It headed straight for Sang Li’s neck. Though her ears didn’t hear the sound, her subconscious mind detected the danger first, causing her body to reflexively bend backward to avoid it.

She clearly felt the coldness of the sword as it passed by her nose, even discerning the color of the sword’s energy—

Crystal clear, yet brimming with killing intent.

Sang Li’s footing was unsteady, and she barely managed to steady herself before falling to the ground.

Her breathing grew heavy, and the joy of escaping vanished entirely.

The sword’s energy struck something, revealing a strange silhouette in the darkness, accompanied by a sharp, agonized scream.

The sound resembled the intense buzzing one might hear when falling rapidly from a great height, with air rushing into the eardrums.

It felt as though her head was about to be torn apart by the noise. She pressed her hands tightly over her ears, but it did nothing to stop the invasion.

Ji Hengyu approached step by step, holding the longsword. “Why aren’t you running anymore?”

The monster knew it had reached its end.

Thinking of its clan members who had died long ago, it abandoned escape. Its chest, rising and falling unevenly, emitted a dry buzz, along with a deep-seated hatred from the depths of its soul—

“Hate… hate you all!”

Sang Li froze, looking up.

The creature, pierced by the sword, could no longer maintain its invisibility. It flickered in and out of sight, its body resembling a lizard but far larger. Its limbs were wrapped in flaming armor, and at that moment, its icy blue vertical pupils burned with hatred.

Its lips moved—

“Those who harm my kind, I will repay tenfold!”

Ji Hengyu advanced with his sword, his expression growing colder with each step.

Sang Li first glanced at the gasping monster, then at Ji Hengyu, trembling as she pointed: “It… it said it wants revenge on you…”

Sang Li’s warning was meant to make Ji Hengyu cautious, but instead, he frowned at her: “You…”

Before he could finish, the monster suddenly let out a loud cry to the heavens.

In an instant, its ten fingers sprouted nail-like spikes. Its sharp hands tore open its abdomen with brute force!

Sang Li was stunned by the sight.

The intense visual shock made her dizzy, and waves of nausea surged up her stomach.

Before she could vomit, Ji Hengyu’s expression changed.

He grabbed Sang Li by the collar and pulled her back into the air, but it was still too late by a fraction of a second.

The monster’s torn body formed a black fissure, which grew wider and wider. Its intense suction force resembled a black hole, swallowing them both in the blink of an eye.

Sang Li: “!!!”

What on earth was this thing?!!!

She tried to struggle, but it was as if a magnet had been attached to her back—she couldn’t resist at all.

In her panic, she came to her senses and realized that Ji Hengyu was in a completely different state than her.

He floated calmly in midair, unperturbed, a stark contrast to her flailing.

Sang Li’s throat tightened, and for a moment, she didn’t know what to do: “Sh-shouldn’t we try to think of something?”

Ji Hengyu’s half-closed eyelids flickered slightly: “I advise you not to move recklessly.”

Easier said than done!

With no idea where they were being taken, how could she possibly stay still?

Just as Sang Li attempted to channel her spiritual energy, his voice rang out again: “If you end up in pieces, it’ll only cause trouble for me.”

In pieces?

Sang Li was dazed. Who? Her?

His words sent chills down her spine, and she immediately stiffened her limbs, trying her best to act like a well-behaved “corpse.”

The darkness seemed endless, and Sang Li had no idea how long she had been falling.

Her consciousness was foggy, and her vision blurred.

Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, a beam of white light appeared in the distance.

Fully awake now, Sang Li immediately exclaimed: “Lord Ji, look! We’re almost out!”

Ji Hengyu gazed at the faint white light with an expressionless face, showing no hint of surprise.

He didn’t bother reminding Sang Li of anything.

Compared to the impending crisis, he preferred not to deal with the fear and tears of someone who clung desperately to life.

Their bodies fell out of the fissure.

The moment they emerged, the winding crack behind them sealed shut.

They were at least a hundred zhang high in the air.

Falling directly would surely result in their deaths, and Sang Li immediately decided to use her flight technique. Strangely, however, the surrounding area was completely sealed—she couldn’t even muster a trace of spiritual energy, let alone use her flight technique.

The wind whistled past her ears.

Below them stretched a deep green abyss. Sang Li’s chest tightened, thinking that if luck was on her side, landing in water might save her…

Just as she thought this, her collar was grabbed once again.

She was like a helpless little chick, being carried around at someone’s whim.

Her throat was firmly gripped, making it hard for her to breathe, her face turning red.

Ji Hengyu held her with one hand while tossing out the Quexie Chi Cold Sword with the other.

Standing atop the sword, he relied on its meager remaining power to land safely.

The Quexie Chi Cold Sword’s last traces of spiritual energy were depleted, transforming back into a jade fan and lying quietly in the lush grass.

He lowered his eyes to the now-dull jade fan, his gaze flickering as he carefully stowed it away.

Sang Li sat on the ground, catching her breath. Once she felt she could breathe properly, she approached Ji Hengyu: “What’s going on? Why can’t I sense the Four Seas Dantian?”

It was strange.

Not only was the Four Seas Dantian absent, but all spiritual energy had completely disappeared.

Sang Li wondered whether this was happening only to her or if Ji Hengyu was experiencing the same.

Ji Hengyu tucked the fan back into his sleeve, his gaze shifting to her. The way he looked at her was unmistakably mocking. “So your Demon Lord taught you nothing but seduction?”

“…”

In just a few short words, Sang Li felt insulted twice over.

She forced herself to ignore the offensive term “seduction” and replied seriously: “Lord Ji, could you please stop adding ‘your’ before mentioning the Demon Lord? Yan Jinglou doesn’t belong to me.”

Ji Hengyu snorted coldly, turning his back to her, clearly indifferent to her words.

Seeing him about to leave, Sang Li hurried after him.

“Lord Ji, you haven’t answered me yet. Where are we? Why can’t I use spiritual energy?”

She resembled a chirping oriole, incessantly squawking around him.

Ji Hengyu sighed wearily, unable to withstand her persistent questioning. Finally, he replied: “The Void Realm.”

Sang Li: “Huh?”

Ji Hengyu opened his mouth to deliver a few sarcastic remarks but then sensed something unusual.

Everyone in the Nine Ling Realm knew one thing: souls that came from beyond the Heavenly Gates were called “evil soul” or “ghostly sovereign.” Naturally, these “evil soul” were aware of their origins.

In other words, if Sang Li were truly a “evil soul,” she wouldn’t be unaware of what the Void Realm was.

Ji Hengyu didn’t think her confusion was an act—no one could feign stupidity so convincingly.

That left only one possibility—

She wasn’t an evil spirit, and her origin had nothing to do with the Heavenly Gates.

The vast universe contained countless worlds; beyond the nine voids lay another nine. Perhaps she had crossed time and space even farther than the realms beyond the Heavenly Gates, coincidentally entering a dying body and becoming its new master.

However, Ji Hengyu wasn’t particularly interested in this. Whether Sang Li was a 祟 or something else, to him, she was just an insignificant passerby.

He gave her a concise explanation: “Emperor Qi is the god who governs time and space. A thousand years ago, he stole the Stone of Creation and combined it with his own abilities to twist space, opening the Heavenly Gates.” He continued, “The realm behind the gates is the Void Realm.”

For the people of the Nine Ling Realm, it had been a calamity.

The entire realm was like a sheet of paper riddled with holes, overrun by foreign 祟 demons.

“The creature we just killed was a Mirror Demon. It can use its death to create a small Heavenly Gate, which means...”

Sang Li numbly finished his sentence: “We’re in another world now.”

Ji Hengyu silently confirmed.

Mirror Demons were among the most dangerous of all extraterrestrial creatures—they themselves were essentially “small Heavenly Gates,” which was why Shen Zheyu had been sent to exterminate them.

They had thought all Mirror Demons had been eradicated, never expecting one to slip through the cracks.

He prided himself on being cautious, and today’s oversight had left him deeply irritated. Even as Sang Li chirped incessantly beside him, he remained indifferent.

Sang Li, however, failed to notice what Ji Hengyu was thinking. “But why can’t we use spiritual energy?”

Ji Hengyu casually replied: “Every world has its own rules. If you forcibly break them, you’ll only invite punishment from the Heavenly Dao.”

Hearing this, Sang Li relaxed somewhat.

Now that they were stranded in this unfamiliar world together, she found herself oddly reassured. Ji Hengyu was already unpredictable enough, and given her own incompetence, she feared he might kill her if he found her troublesome.

If Ji Hengyu was reduced to an ordinary person like her, it would greatly reduce the sense of danger.

Strangely enough, she suddenly felt much closer to him.

Sang Li pressed further: “Lord Ji, how do we get back?”

“Hmm?” Ji Hengyu glanced around. “Find another Mirror Demon and kill it.”

Sang Li stumbled slightly. “Didn’t you just say breaking the rules would invite the wrath of the Heavenly Dao?”

Ji Hengyu didn’t bat an eye: “I exist outside the rules. The Heavenly Dao has nothing to do with me.”

Sang Li: “…”

Sang Li: “…………”

You’re really something else.

Since she couldn’t match his arrogance, she obediently walked quietly, deliberately avoiding stepping on flowers or grass, fearing that harming anything innocent might prevent their return.

Fortunately, the place they were in seemed relatively safe.

Though there was no sun in the sky, it was still brightly lit, as if the heavens were a polished jade mirror, illuminating the entire land vividly.

They were in a dense forest, lush with foliage and teeming with life.

The strange thing was, they hadn’t seen a single animal since arriving.

Wait—no animals?

Realizing this, Sang Li broke into goosebumps. Wasn’t the absence of animals the biggest red flag of all?!

Aware of this now, Sang Li’s entire body tensed up. She abandoned her care for plants, quickly running over to grab Ji Hengyu’s sleeve and whispering in a low voice: “Lord Ji, something feels off here…”

Something was very, very wrong.

Ji Hengyu couldn’t help but glance at her again, faintly impressed: “Not completely brainless after all.”

At this point, Sang Li didn’t have the energy to dwell on his sarcasm, carefully scanning their surroundings. “Lord Ji, why haven’t we seen even a single bird?”

“They’ve been eaten.”

“Eaten by… what?”

“The forest, the soil, the grass, the trees.”

What… what was he talking about??

Sang Li vaguely felt something slowly wriggling near her feet.

Stiffly lowering her head, she saw the flat ground beneath her suddenly ripple like crawling insects. She watched as pairs of compound eyes opened underfoot, branches swayed without wind, dragging leaves in chaotic movements, and even the flowers and grass she had been careful not to harm sprouted sharp teeth…

“Hehehehe…”

A series of high-pitched, eerie laughter rang out.

All living things, including the earth below, surged toward them.

Sang Li turned pale with fear, clutching Ji Hengyu’s robes tightly: “Lord Ji, they’re not planning to eat us too, are they?!”

Ji Hengyu nodded, agreeing with her: “Yes!”

He actually said “yes”?

Sang Li frantically tugged at his sleeve, staring in terror at the densely advancing plants. “Aren’t you outside the rules? Think of something, quick!”

Compared to her panic, Ji Hengyu remained eerily calm and composed: “There’s nothing to be done.”

Sang Li froze, looking at him. “Then what about earlier?”

He tilted his head slightly, blinking innocently at her: “Acting.”

“…”

“…………?”

At this moment, her silence was deafening.

Was this man insane?!

Men truly couldn’t be trusted!

Sang Li wanted to cry but had no tears.

In desperation, she suddenly noticed three strangely shaped rocks to the southeast of the jungle.

The rocks were pitch black, positioned at three points to form a triangle.

While vegetation thrived everywhere else, the center of the three black stones was barren. The soil there was a scorched yellow, unlike the deep red beneath their feet.

Sang Li guessed this might be a protective array.

With no time to verify her theory, she grabbed Ji Hengyu’s sleeve and sprinted toward the direction of the rocks with all her might.