AUOF - 125

When Sang Sang first met Ji Hengyu, aside from his name, he had lost all memory—no knowledge of his origins, destination, identity, or past.

Once his health improved, Sang Sang had attempted to inquire around but found no leads.

Later, under the moonlight, when they pledged their love, Ji Hengyu said to her: “My past life was but a half-dream; meeting you is my forever.”

Could it be that his origins were connected to this girl?

But she was extraordinary, seemingly a cultivator of immortality, while her husband was just an ordinary mortal. How could he possibly have any ties to disciples from sacred mountains?

Sang Sang’s mind was a jumble. She decided not to dwell on it further and carefully tucked away the jade pendant before focusing on treating Si Tu’s injuries.

The demon parasite could emit thousands of types of toxic gases. The poison Si Tu had contracted was a common one called “Midie Powder,” not particularly troublesome among the myriad poisons. Sang Sang forcibly expelled the toxins using magic, administered a sedative, and instructed Lingxiu to stay by the bedside. Then, she carefully rose and stepped out of the room.

“Finished?”

As soon as she turned around, she unexpectedly came face-to-face with Ji Hengyu’s shadow, startling her. Still catching her breath, she looked up at him, somewhat surprised: “You’ve been waiting here this whole time?”

“Yes,” Ji Hengyu replied. “I wasn’t reassured leaving you alone.”

The night was cool, and he wore only a thin robe, his body wrapped in the chill of dew.

Seeing Ji Hengyu’s slightly reddened earlobes from the cold, Sang Sang couldn’t help but feel心疼 (heartache). She hurriedly pulled his clothes tighter, chiding him: “You couldn’t have helped much by waiting outside. Why bother staying?”

Ji Hengyu’s long-tense brows softened instantly. “I wanted to be with you.”

Sang Sang paused, her fingertips lingering as she slowly took his hand. “Let’s go rest.”

“Mm.”

Ji Hengyu draped his arm over her shoulder, casting a brief glance back at the closed door before refocusing his attention, his hand tightening protectively on her shoulder.

________________________________________

It wasn’t until noon the next day that Si Tu finally woke up.

Her limbs felt weak and limp, and through her dazed gaze, she met the eyes of the woman watching her. Those rippling eyes were indescribably captivating. As her vision cleared, the woman’s full appearance came into focus in Si Tu’s eyes.

Sang Sang tilted her head, pressing her fingertips to Si Tu’s forehead, smiling gently: “Your fever has subsided. Are there any other discomforts?”

At her words, Si Tu sluggishly recalled the events of the previous night.

Unable to remain lying down, she threw off the blanket and sat up. “You… your brother… Sang Ning…”

Si Tu’s panicked expression left Sang Sang bewildered. “My brother? It was my brother who brought you back. He said you went to Chuiyun Ridge.”

Sang Ning brought her back?

This revelation caught in Si Tu’s throat.

After a pause, she asked: “Is he alright?”

Sang Sang shook her head. “It’s you I’m concerned about. Chuiyun Ridge is extremely dangerous, especially at night. If it weren’t for my brother, you wouldn’t have escaped so easily. Next time, don’t venture in so recklessly—it’s unsafe.”

Si Tu was used to being arrogant and unruly, causing trouble without restraint in Tiange. Even if she made mistakes, no one dared to reprimand her except the Celestial Lord. This was the first time anyone had scolded her.

Strangely, Si Tu didn’t feel angry—it oddly pleased her.

She stared at Sang Sang for a long time, then gave a silly smile: “How strange—I feel like you’re very familiar.”

Sang Sang looked up.

Without a hint of embarrassment, Si Tu stated matter-of-factly: “It feels like we’ve known each other for a long time.” After a moment’s thought, she tentatively asked, fiddling with her fingers: “Can… can we be friends?”

Friends?

The word was novel.

Sang Sang had never had friends growing up—the only person close to her was her brother.

In her youth, when she had no one to rely on, she couldn’t trust anyone who approached her. Later, after ascending to the position of Demon Lord, relationships were defined solely by hierarchy, with no room for friendship.

Friends…

Sang Sang rolled the word around in her mind, feeling no aversion to it.

“What’s your name?”

“Si Tu.”

“Then I’ll call you A Tu, and you can call me Sang Sang.”

Hearing her agreement, Si Tu’s ears turned red, her chest swelling with satisfaction.

“Oh, right—I haven’t asked yet about your brother now…” Si Tu hesitated, embarrassed to continue. Thinking about being carried back by a mere mortal, she, a celestial maiden, felt utterly humiliated.

“He’s in the main hall,” Sang Sang said. “If you’re feeling better, let’s go join him for a meal.”

Si Tu eagerly agreed.

Laughing and chatting, the two arrived at the main hall. Sang Ning was already seated. When he saw them approach, he briefly lifted his gaze before lowering it again. Si Tu naturally sat beside Sang Sang, occupying the seat. This caused Ji Hengyu, who had just entered, to pause awkwardly before reluctantly taking a seat next to Sang Ning.

Dishes were served one after another. Sang Sang placed a piece of braised fish onto a small plate in front of Si Tu. “This is Ji Hengyu’s best dish. Give it a try.”

Si Tu’s eyes widened slightly. “He can cook too?”

Sang Sang noticed the astonishment and strange familiarity in her tone but subtly concealed her suspicion, smiling: “Yes, he handles most of the household chores.”

Si Tu found it hard to believe.

In her memory, her senior brother was always a figure of serene aloofness, rarely showing warmth. He was constantly accompanied by his sword case, his hands meant to wield swords for the protection of sentient beings. In the past, if someone had told her he would cook for someone, she would have scoffed. But for Sang Sang… strangely, she found it acceptable—even felt it was something he should do.

Si Tu lowered her head to eat, while Sang Sang attended to her thoughtfully, not sparing a single glance for Ji Hengyu throughout the meal.

Listening to the soft murmurs beside her, Ji Hengyu felt inexplicably stifled. His gaze flickered over, catching her radiant smile. His thoughts hadn’t been on the meal, and he didn’t know what Si Tu had said to make her laugh so brightly.

Ji Hengyu unconsciously tightened his grip on the chopsticks, completely losing his appetite.

Sang Sang, oblivious to Ji Hengyu’s emotions, focused on probing Si Tu: “Where are you from, A Tu? Judging by your attire and demeanor, are you perhaps a disciple from some mountain sect?”

At these words, Si Tu immediately fell silent.

She quickly responded: “A small mountain, a minor sect—not worth mentioning.”

Clearly, she was hiding something.

Sang Sang raised an eyebrow, discreetly observing Ji Hengyu’s expression. His face remained indifferent, though slightly more somber than usual.

“Cultivators often come to Qingyang City to train, but you’re different from them.”

Si Tu’s eyes shone brightly. “How am I different?”

“Your bearing, your attire—everything is different.”

These words genuinely pleased Si Tu, making her feel lightheaded. Without thinking, she blurted out: “The reason we came to Qingyang City wasn’t for training. In truth…”

Clatter.

Before she could finish, the crisp sound of porcelain colliding interrupted her, drawing everyone’s attention to Ji Hengyu.

He set down his chopsticks and apologized: “I’m done eating. I’m going to check on the pharmacy.” Then, turning to Si Tu, he added: “I’ve already sent word to the inn. Your people will be here to pick you up soon.”

His words implied he wanted her to leave.

Si Tu was furious, feeling resentment toward Ji Hengyu for the first time. This sense of aversion quickly grew, replacing her earlier fondness for him.

Sure enough, before the meal ended, Chunhua and Chunmao rushed in anxiously.

“Junior Sister!”

Without regard for the setting, the junior disciples pulled her aside, inspecting her thoroughly. Once they confirmed she hadn’t suffered any serious injuries, they sighed in relief and turned to thank the siblings politely.

With her people here to pick her up, even thick-skinned Si Tu couldn’t justify staying any longer.

Reluctantly, she bid farewell: “Well… we’ll take our leave. If you ever need help, just come to the inn. I’ll definitely assist you.”

As the three were about to leave, Sang Sang’s eyes flickered, and she called out: “Wait a moment.” Taking two steps forward, she handed over the jade pendant. “This fell from you. I forgot to return it.”

Si Tu took the jade pendant, visibly relieved: “I thought I’d lost it. Thank you, Sang Sang.”

Sang Sang nodded, glancing at the pendant and casually asking: “Is it important?”

There was no reason to conceal it, so Si Tu replied: “Only direct disciples receive this jade pendant. It’s quite significant.”

Only direct disciples…

Sang Sang’s eyes flickered, remaining lost in thought even after Si Tu and the others had left.

She remembered clearly: swirling clouds encircling a crane, with the character “Heng” engraved in the center.

Could Ji Hengyu not be a mortal but rather a cultivator from the sacred mountains?

No, impossible.

The moment the thought surfaced, Sang Sang swiftly dismissed it.

Mortals and cultivators were vastly different. Mortals lived amidst worldly dust, their bodies tainted, while cultivators radiated clarity. Their auras were easily distinguishable. Moreover, Ji Hengyu was someone she had personally pulled back from the brink of death. Initially, his soul and body were shattered. Without her nurturing him day and night with rare medicinal herbs, how could he have survived in such a frail state?

Or had he been deceiving her all along?

Had he regained his memories but concealed his aura and sealed his dantian to pose as a mortal in front of her?

Impossible…

Sang Sang stared blankly, her spine stiff as if paralyzed. It wasn’t until Sang Ning patted her that she hastily averted her gaze, hurriedly masking all her emotions, including her shock.

Forcing a smile, she asked: “Brother, aren’t you busy today?”

Sang Ning’s sharp gaze seemed to probe beneath her composed exterior. Narrowing his eyes, he said gravely: “If I’m not mistaken, the swirling cloud pattern on that jade pendant is the emblem of Tiange in the divine realm.” Sang Ning sneered. “They truly are minor immortals of Tiange.”

Minor immortals of Tiange?

So, if that jade pendant indeed belonged to Ji Hengyu, then he too was…

Sang Sang’s heart raced as she urgently asked: “How does Brother know all this?”

Sang Ning explained: “As Ning Xiaoyao, I’ve clashed with the divine realm multiple times. Among them, Tiange is the most troublesome.” He gestured toward the direction Si Tu had departed. “If my guess is correct, that girl Si Tu is likely the renowned celestial maiden.”

Sang Sang’s hand, hidden in her sleeve, clenched tightly.

Her eyelids drooped, a sense of desolation swirling in her eyes.

Burdened with heavy thoughts, Sang Sang made her way to the pharmacy.

She didn’t enter, merely standing at the entrance and watching from afar.

Dressed in green, Ji Hengyu stood behind the counter, busily working. He was intelligent and perceptive. At first, he couldn’t even distinguish between simple herbs like honeysuckle and silver grass. After three days of her teaching, he memorized most of the herbs, and now he could independently handle prescriptions.

Could my husband truly be an immortal?

Sang Sang’s gaze darkened—half believing, half doubting.

Composing herself, she smiled and walked in.

Seeing Sang Sang enter, Ji Hengyu handed over his current task to the apprentice and went to the warehouse to organize the newly delivered, disarrayed herbs.

Sang Sang sensed her husband’s unhappiness. After some thought, she lifted the curtain and followed him inside. “Husband?”

The dimly lit warehouse appeared empty. Just as she wondered where he was, a pair of hands suddenly encircled her waist. Before she could resist, she was pressed against the wall. His thumb and forefinger gripped her chin, forcing her to tilt her head back. Her startled eyes met his familiar, frosty gaze.

Sang Sang opened her mouth: “Husband… are you unhappy?”

There was no mistaking it—his furrowed brows clearly conveyed dissatisfaction.

But Sang Sang couldn’t think of anything she had done to upset him, deepening her confusion.

Ji Hengyu pursed his lips, slowly releasing her. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his warm breath tickling her skin and making her neck itch.

“Can’t my wife see it?”

“Hmm?”

His voice was hoarse—

“I’m jealous.”