AUOF - 13

She pulled at his sleeve with all her might, her pale fingers gripping the light green fabric.

Ji Hengyu didn’t resist or struggle, allowing her to drag him forward.

The moment the vines surged toward them, Sang Li managed to step one foot into the triangular area.

Whoosh!

Everything around them froze.

The sharp tendrils of branches halted mid-air, hesitating before slowly retreating.

Before long, all the sentient life forms surrounding them withdrew to their original positions, restoring the serene and peaceful appearance of the wilderness.

Sang Li had yet to fully recover from the tension.

The exhaustion of surviving such a peril left her exhaling deeply. Looking down, she realized her hand was still clutching Ji Hengyu’s sleeve. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly let go, stepping back to create distance between them.

His wide sleeve was now wrinkled from her tugging.

She felt a bit flustered, fearing she had offended him in some way, but thankfully, Ji Hengyu paid no mind to such trivial matters. Instead, he walked over to the black stones and gazed intently at the inscriptions carved upon them.

Each black stone bore red-inked characters etched into its surface.

In the center stone was engraved: “[Yang resides in three positions, stabilizing heaven and earth. Qian is heaven, Kun is earth; mountains and marshes connect through Dui as the marsh.]”

The markings on the right-hand stone appeared damaged or worn away by weathering, making them unclear. However, faint traces revealed the following: “[The trigrams interlock, shaking the sun and moon, locking yin and yang, defending the two instruments and four symbols.]”

The final stone read: “[To summon this array, use your own blood to call it forth, thereby stabilizing the cosmos and keeping misfortune at bay.]”

The first inscription likely referred to the surrounding directions.

The latter two were somewhat obscure and difficult to decipher, but Sang Li grasped the key point—”[To summon this array, use your own blood.]”

“Lord Ji, what kind of array is this?”

Ji Hengyu extended a finger to trace the weathered engravings on the obsidian-like stone. “The Fuxi Eight Trigram Array.”

—A protective array.

The black stones were made of Wuye Jade, commonly found in the Nine Ling Realm.

Wuye Jade had a unique property: its color would gradually turn transparent as it absorbed sunlight, eventually forming a beautiful gemstone resembling glass. This transformation process was not lengthy.

The Wuye Jade before them remained jet-black and glossy, but the inscriptions had faded in color, indicating that they were not made of graphite but bloodstains. This suggested that the person who formed the array hadn’t left long ago, possibly having been brought here by the Mirror Demon like them and might still be alive.

“Give me your hand.”

Without suspicion, Sang Li obediently extended her right hand.

Ji Hengyu grabbed her wrist, his two fingers pressing together in a familiar gesture.

At the sight, her heart sank, and she hastily tried to pull her hand away: “What are you going to do?!”

Ji Hengyu: “Draw blood to summon the array.”

“…?”

Sang Li quickly shielded her fingers and said, “Why don’t you cut yourself instead?”

They were two people facing the same peril together.

If bloodletting was truly necessary, both of them should contribute. Why should only she suffer? It wasn’t fair!

Ji Hengyu remained calm, his gaze steady as he stared at her with those gem-like eyes. Sang Li, unwilling to yield, tilted her chin up and glared back at him with even wider eyes.

“I possess dragon blood. If you’re not afraid of my aura driving those creatures into a frenzy, I have no objections.” With that, Ji Hengyu slowly rolled up his wide sleeve, clenching his fist as the veins in his wrist became more prominent.

Sang Li’s breath caught.

In the original story, the male protagonist’s rare bloodline was often used to suppress the abyssal prison.

She didn’t fully understand the uniqueness of this bloodline, but one thing was certain—if it truly incited the monsters into a frenzy, both of them could face dire consequences.

Sang Li immediately pressed down on his arm, “No, no, no! You cut me, just me.”

He silently twitched the corner of his lips, suddenly feeling playful. “Fine, I’ll do it myself. After all, in your eyes, I’m already a cold-blooded killer. I wouldn’t want to add cowardice to my reputation.”

Ji Hengyu’s tone carried no trace of complaint, yet there was a faint undertone of bitter self-mockery in his matter-of-fact statement.

Hearing this, Sang Li felt as if ants were crawling all over her body.

She nearly knelt before Ji Hengyu, “Lord Ji, that’s not what I meant!”

Ji Hengyu responded with a cold indifference: “Oh.”

Sang Li really wanted to kneel now.

Had he been holding onto the incident at Shimen Mountain this entire time? More importantly, hadn’t she... said nothing much about it?

This man—his heart was not only wicked but also petty.

And judging by his demeanor, drawing blood was merely a pretense; teasing her was his true intention.

Did he really think she was a fool?

Even a fox has its temper!

After all, Ji Hengyu was currently just like her, with his dantian sealed. To put it bluntly, they were both grasshoppers on the same sinking ship. Did he really think she believed he cared nothing for himself either?

Sang Li took a small step back and continued along his words: “Then, Lord Ji, prove it quickly.”

This time, it was Ji Hengyu’s turn to fall silent.

She spoke with utmost sincerity, reverence, and earnestness: “Compared to the minor issue of attracting monsters, preserving your esteemed reputation is far more important. To clear up your misunderstanding of me all this time, I’m willing to let you draw blood from my veins.”

Sang Li tapped her forehead. “Oh, that’s right! It seems Lord Ji has forgotten—we can’t use divine techniques here. Fortunately, I brought a dagger.”

Her storage pouch wouldn’t open here.

Thankfully, during their time at Shimen Mountain, she had taken out a dagger and hidden it at her waist to guard against night attacks. And now, it came in handy so soon.

Sang Li retrieved the crescent-shaped, exquisite dagger and presented it to him with both hands, her bright eyes displaying the cunning nature of a fox: “Lord Ji, your humble servant will assist you. Which hand shall we cut?”

Ji Hengyu: “…”

He didn’t speak, but his mind erupted in uncontrollable laughter.

[Hahahaha, Ji Hengyu, you’ve finally met your match today.]

[Serves you right! You tease the little fox, and now look who’s being teased? Fair enough.]

In this strange world, the differing spiritual energy of the realm had somewhat suppressed both souls within him.

But just as things had improved slightly, he witnessed such an amusing scene.

Taking advantage of Ji Hengyu’s predicament in this realm, the mischievous soul Ji Wu laughed mockingly.

His expression remained impassive, and he hadn’t expected the once submissive little fox to suddenly change her demeanor.

Ji Hengyu wasn’t truly a coward, nor was he afraid of such minor pain. He also didn’t care whether his Fuxi blood would attract unforeseen danger.

His purpose was simple: boredom. Teasing small animals amused him.

Back at Gui Xu Palace, he would sometimes tease his youngest disciple in a similar manner.

Of his three disciples, the eldest was rarely seen due to his elusive nature, and the sole female disciple was cold and taciturn. Only Ningxi Li offered some entertainment, so even Ji Hengyu would occasionally seek amusement from him.

However, it seemed the little fox was cleverer than his disciple. Unlike Ningxi Li, who could be easily deceived into confusion, she saw through his tricks clearly.

Ji Hengyu suddenly smiled at Sang Li and extended his left hand: “You make a valid point. Proceed.”

Sang Li’s grip on the dagger trembled.

Damn it!

Was he really letting her cut him?

No, she hadn’t intended to actually harm him. Even with three hundred sets of courage, she wouldn’t dare hurt the male lead!

She had merely wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. What was wrong with this guy?

Seeing her hesitation, Ji Hengyu urged: “Hurry up. Darkness will bring complications.”

The cycle of day and night in this world moved faster than in the Nine Ling Realm.

When they had first arrived, the sky had been clear and bright, but within an hour, it was already growing dark.

Logically speaking, nighttime was the perfect breeding ground for monsters.

However, the vines had retreated into the soil, indicating that they feared something even more terrifying than themselves.

As for the Wuye Jade stones—

Their purpose was to absorb sunlight and moonlight. At night, the Wuye Jade would become fragile and easily breakable, and the array’s power would significantly weaken. Presumably, the most damaged Wuye Jade stone had been destroyed by some kind of demonic creature during the darkness.

She was still hesitating.

Ji Hengyu gently reassured her: “Don’t be afraid. It’ll only take a moment.”

With him saying that, Sang Li no longer had any reason to hesitate.

Moreover—

She really did want to stab Ji Hengyu just once!

Sang Li nervously swallowed, slowly stepping closer. The tip of the dagger trembled as she approached his pale wrist.

Then—

She gave a light poke.

A tiny bead of blood, smaller than a grain of millet, emerged.

Ji Hengyu… fell silent.

His long lashes quivered slightly, and he tactfully reminded her: “Perhaps you could… apply a bit more force?”

Sang Li was practically shaking while holding the knife.

In her past life, her greatest fear had been getting injections from nurses or even watching nurses give injections to others. Her earlier bravado might have sounded impressive, but there was a big difference between talking tough and actually doing it.

Seeing Ji Hengyu’s familiar expression of impatience, she gritted her teeth and steeled herself—

And left another red mark on his wrist.

One that didn’t even break the skin.

Ji Hengyu’s gaze grew increasingly hard to interpret.

Sang Li didn’t give him a chance to speak: “Don’t rush, don’t rush. This time will definitely work.”

Then she made another attempt.

She drew a red X on his wrist.

Sang Li: “…”

Ji Hengyu: “…”

“Why are you using the blunt side of the blade?” Ji Hengyu looked at the red X. “It’s clear you’re quite dissatisfied with me.”

Sang Li: “.”

He let out a deep sigh.

This was the eighth time Sang Li had heard him sigh since they’d fallen into this place.

Perhaps he had reached his limit of patience.

Ji Hengyu grabbed her hand holding the dagger. His palm was large, his fingers long and slender, each knuckle distinct, effortlessly enveloping her entire fist with plenty of room to spare.

The moment he took hold, Sang Li inexplicably tensed up even more.

Ji Hengyu rotated the blade, guiding her hand so that the knife pressed firmly against his skin.

Whether intentional or not—

He moved the blade slowly, and Sang Li could clearly hear the muffled sound of flesh parting.

“This is the level of force required. Do you understand now?”

He acted like a teacher, patiently and meticulously instructing her as if he weren’t cutting into his own wrist.

He mercilessly sliced open the vein, like opening a floodgate, and crimson blood surged forth instantly.

Seeing the clearly frightened Sang Li, Ji Hengyu couldn’t help but curve his lips in amusement.

The blood was a vivid, striking red.

Unlike human blood, the bodily fluids of immortals could also be transformed into cultivation resources, let alone their blood.

Ji Hengyu’s blood was bright red, mixed with tiny red specks resembling fireflies. These specks floated around, like small flames, representing the spiritual energy contained within the blood, all flowing out along with it.

Sang Li suddenly felt like she had made a grave mistake. In her panic, she tried to stop him—

“Enough, enough! Why did you cut so deep? What a waste!”

She hastily pulled out a handkerchief to cover the wound.

But the bleeding wouldn’t stop, quickly soaking through the cloth.

Sang Li grew even more distressed.

In the modern world, this would be considered rare panda blood! If someone wasted panda blood like this, they’d be condemned by society!

Sang Li was so frantic she nearly stomped her feet. “Can’t you just... suck it back in?!”

Suck it back in?

Ji Hengyu raised an eyebrow: “If you’re thirsty, you can catch it with your hands and drink it. I’m not thirsty.”

“?”

“???”

Was she talking about thirst?!

Was that what she meant to say?!

What was wrong with him!

After releasing almost a teapot’s worth of blood, Ji Hengyu finally stopped.

The fresh blood was completely absorbed by the soil at the center.

It formed lines that connected to the three Wuye Jade stones at different positions.

The inscriptions on the stones gradually lit up with golden light.

The glow dispelled the darkness, illuminating the surroundings as if it were daylight.

The inscriptions converged at their feet, forming a circular Fuxi Eight Trigram Array.

Inside the array, eight directional positions—north, south, east, west, and the intermediate directions—were displayed.

Ji Hengyu asked Sang Li: “Where do you want to go?”

Sang Li: “…” So it was a choice after all.

“Will the place we go to… be better than here?” she asked cautiously.

Ji Hengyu pondered for a moment: “Perhaps it will be worse.”

Sang Li’s face turned pale.

Then she suddenly thought of an idea: “Th-then let’s go to where the person who set this array went!”

This person had managed to establish the Fuxi Eight Trigram Array in this perilous, man-eating forest, which meant their cultivation level was likely high. If they were lucky, they might even find companionship and work together to find a way back.

Ji Hengyu didn’t object. He took half a step forward and moved to the southeast direction.

She hurriedly followed him.

Sang Li glanced at Ji Hengyu’s wrist.

Though his spiritual energy was suppressed, his immortal body still healed faster than ordinary beings. Even though the bleeding had stopped, the deep cut remained visible.

“Do you want me to bandage...” She started to say, but before she could finish the last two words, the array seal appeared, transporting them to another unfamiliar place.

Sang Li remained frozen in her previous position.

She stayed close to Ji Hengyu, trembling with fear of the unknown environment. After a while, she cautiously opened her eyes just a slit.

It was dim and silent, with no wind.

It seemed… relatively safe?

“Let’s go,” Ji Hengyu said, taking the first step forward.

She quickly followed, glancing around as they walked.

This place seemed to be underground, more like an abandoned ruin.

The corridor was long, with walls on both sides covered in obscure totems and inscriptions. There were no visible lighting devices, yet it wasn’t overly dark.

To be cautious, Sang Li bent down, tore off a piece of cloth from her clothing, and tightly covered her mouth and nose.

Seeing her being so careful, Ji Hengyu didn’t say anything.

At the end of the corridor lay a vast underground palace.

The palace descended three zhang below the stairs, with seven corridors of varying sizes leading into it from all directions. All the entrances converged at one central point.

In the middle of the palace stood a towering stone stele, inscribed with characters from this world.

As Sang Li had guessed, this was indeed a ruin.

The two of them didn’t approach the stele.

Sang Li searched the surroundings. She found no useful information but did come across a skeleton.

This was the first time she had seen human remains up close and personal, and she froze momentarily.

Ji Hengyu appeared beside her at some point: “A disciple of the Wuding Sect.”

The skeleton was clad in a tattered gray robe that had turned yellow with age. A badge lay near its hand, engraved with the character 【定】.

The Wuding Sect was considered a major sect in the cultivation world. Judging by the purple badge, this person was likely a capable disciple within the sect.

“There’s a bundle here.”

Sang Li approached and rummaged through a gray bundle lying nearby.

Inside were a few talisman papers, a small number of remaining spirit stones, and a letter.

She opened it—

[To Senior Brother Zining:

Upon receiving your letter, Xiang’er feels deeply uneasy.

During my ten years in the sect, I have been deeply cared for by you, Senior Brother Zining. I am extremely grateful and hold only respect for you, with no other inappropriate thoughts. Your talents are extraordinary, and you should focus on cultivation. If you were to delay your path to ascension because of romantic entanglements, I would be unable to forgive myself.

I do not wish to hide anything further from you. I have already formed a bond with Junior Brother Lu, and I do not wish to betray the affection you have shown me.

I hope you find happiness soon.

Wishing you well in the future.

Lin Xiang’er.]

Clearly, this was a letter rejecting a romantic confession.

While Sang Li was focused on reading the letter, the nearby skeleton suddenly grabbed her ankle—

The sudden scare caused Sang Li to shriek, her body springing up like a startled cat. She screamed loudly while quickly grabbing the skeleton and flinging it three feet away.

After a series of clattering noises, the skeleton collapsed into a pile of bones.

Sang Li panted heavily.

Amidst her panic, she completely failed to notice a thin red thread slipping into her sleeve, crawling along her skin like a tiny insect until it reached the wound on her left arm...