AUOF - 139

Both the human realm and the Divine Realm were celebrating the demise of the demon god.

People praised Ji Hengyu for choosing the greater good over personal affection, saying that he had slain his wife to prove his enlightenment and prioritize the overall situation, and that he would surely become a leader who understood the sufferings of all beings.

A year passed, then ten, a hundred, five hundred years.

He had not yet truly ascended to that position, and the world had already forgotten that five hundred years ago, Heavenly Lord Heng had been married to a woman named Sang Sang. They only remembered that the demon god had been personally slain by Heavenly Lord Heng.

At that time, Ji Hengyu had become a wandering immortal.

He traveled the world with his sword. His immortal body could already transform into divine bones, but he was always held back by some tether, unable to ascend to godhood.

Wherever he journeyed, there were legends about him.

People said he roamed the world with his sword, that he slew demons and eradicated evil; they said his immortal body descended into the mortal realm, understanding human sorrow and human suffering. But most of all, they spoke of the Demon Subjugation Day five hundred years ago, when he slew the demon god Yen Jiuying with a single sword.

Storytellers, with their animated expressions, embellished stories that always drew countless cheers, earning them a fortune in silver.

The common folk loved to listen to these legends to pass the time. Afterward, they would whisper amongst themselves, saying that Heavenly Lord Heng didn’t truly love his wife. If he truly loved her, even if she were a demon, he wouldn’t have been so cruel; there should have been a hint of emotion.

[Didn’t love.]

This was the most frequent phrase Ji Hengyu heard.

After hearing it for so long, Ji Hengyu also began to feel that he didn’t love her.

For five hundred years, he would return to Bamboo Stream Village every now and then.

The village, transformed by time, had long since changed its appearance, and eventually, with the changing of days and nights, this sparsely populated village had become overgrown and desolate.

Ji Hengyu had a thought and used his spiritual power to maintain its appearance from a hundred years ago, when Sang Sang was still there.

He remembered when he first arrived, it was a continuous spring rain. Sang Sang, without an umbrella, skipped ahead, while Ji Hengyu, carrying large bags, followed behind, quietly listening to her plans for their future life.

She spoke of clearing a field, renovating the house when they had money, and ideally raising a few more chickens, as she had a particular fondness for poultry.

Through a small path was the village itself.

The village was lively then, with farmers’ wives gathered in small groups, curiously observing the two outsiders. Sang Sang, who had been noisy along the way, quieted under their gazes, awkwardly shrinking beside him, shyly lowering her head and hiding herself.

At the end of the village was the courtyard where they had lived.

This courtyard had been sold cheaply to them by an old man. Sang Sang had spent no small amount of words haggling over those two copper coins.

Because it was maintained by spiritual power, everything here remained as it was, free of weeds and dust.

Ji Hengyu entered the house first.

Pushing open the door, he saw a pair of crooked long-life knots still hanging on the wall. Sang Sang had spent three evenings crocheting them near the New Year. They weren’t very pretty, and she was too embarrassed to wear them out, but she couldn’t bear to discard them, so she compromised by hanging them inside the house.

Ji Hengyu was momentarily lost in thought, then sat down at the table. There were still some unfinished books on it.

The book he was copying was a poetry collection, but Sang Sang had interrupted him halfway through. Because she disliked it, it had been left unfinished until now.

Ji Hengyu pulled back his long sleeve, flattened the paper with a paperweight, picked up a brush, dipped it in ink, and continued to finish copying it.

The ink spread, and he carefully blew it dry. In a trance, he found himself lost in thought over that line of poetry.

[Wishing to send a colorful letter and a small silk scroll, but mountains are long, waters wide, where would it reach?]

Why did she dislike it?

It seemed to be because she said the profound meaning of the poem was too sorrowful, and she felt sad after hearing it, forbidding him to copy it again.

Mountains are long, waters wide, where would it reach?

Hearing it this way, it was indeed sad.

“Husband, I’m hungry. Why are you still copying books?”

Suddenly, a familiar voice came from the doorway.

Ji Hengyu looked up and saw a bright figure standing at the door, chiding him. Ji Hengyu put down the paper and instinctively blurted out, “Coming right away.”

The moment the words left his lips, the figure before his eyes vanished. It was merely a hallucination he had inexplicably conjured.

His heart instantly felt a large, empty void.

Ji Hengyu then went to the courtyard, leaned back in the rocking chair, and closed his eyes.

Five hundred years were enough to change seasons and empty time.

Yet, his memory was clear, as if it were yesterday.

When he thought of Sang Sang again, his heart was calm, without ripples or waves.

Perhaps...

He truly didn’t love her, as the world said.

So-called deep affection was merely like water in a pond, drying up in the sun; dispersing with the wind, how could it be etched deeply into one’s bones?

Men were inherently prone to lies, jealousy, and deception was their innate nature. He prided himself on loyalty, but in reality, he was merely one among many hypocrites.

Dusk was falling.

A soft wisp coiled around his fingertip.

Ji Hengyu slowly opened his eyes and saw a drop of ink on his fingertip.

From the ink stain, a tender green sprout suddenly grew, its crisp little shoots coiling around his fingertip, unfurling into flowers, and then growing dense, toothed paths.

“May I inquire of your heart?”

The green sprout spread its leaves, its voice as tender as a child’s.

“Inquire of my heart?”

“Your defiled heart is impure, unable to perceive the divine platform; if you wish to inquire of your heart, you may part the mist and fog, and see the sun through the clouds.”

Inquire of the heart.

Ji Hengyu lowered his eyelids, staring at the green sprout.

He opened his mouth—

“Does Ji Hengyu still remember Sang Sang?”

Ji Hengyu paused, then answered himself—

“No.”

The Spring-Hating Vine burrowed into his skin, coiling around his heart, and bit down hard on his heart chakra.

The sudden, intense cramp made Ji Hengyu curl his back like a shrimp, grunting in pain. Clutching his chest, he continued to ask, “Ji Hengyu, do you still love Sang Sang?”

“No.”

The pain intensified.

His face was ghostly pale, blood seeping from the corners of his lips.

Ji Hengyu looked up at the deep sky, as if remembering something, “Sang Sang, is she still alive?”

He gasped in pain, opened his mouth, and uttered two words: “No.”

It bit deeper, harder.

The more it hurt, the clearer Ji Hengyu’s mind became.

Then, his eyes focused on a single point. After a short period of stupefaction, Ji Hengyu's chaotic eyes suddenly cleared up. His body first trembled, his fingers clenched like spasms, his lips trembled, and finally, in agony, Ji Hengyu laughed uncontrollably.

He doubled over, laughing wildly, his laughter echoing in the silence, lingering for a long time.

There were tears in his laughter, and in his tears, there was realization, remorse, resentment, and regret.

Soon, Ji Hengyu composed himself, straightened up, and staggered out of the courtyard.

After walking out of Bamboo Stream Village, he swung his sword, leveling the illusion behind him. Amidst the ruins, the man’s face was expressionless, with only indifference remaining.

Ji Hengyu returned to the Divine Realm, passed through the Grand Cloud Hall, and arrived before the Divine Palace amidst the reverent bows of the immortal attendants.

The high-ranking figure, with crane-white hair and a youthful face, his eyes gleaming, exuded an aura of compassion.

Ji Hengyu’s silent intrusion made the Supreme Dao Venerable instantly lift his head from the scroll. “Zihang?” He was slightly surprised, then in a moment felt something was wrong, “What are you doing here?”

Ji Hengyu drew his sword, his gaze cold and unwavering. He spoke each word distinctly—

“To kill you.”

The two words sounded light, but they struck the main hall with a heavy thud.

The Supreme Dao Venerable suddenly startled, the scrolls on the table fluttering to the floor.

At this moment, Ji Hengyu had already moved before him, and the Evil-Repelling Chi Han Sword instantly pierced his dantian.

The Supreme Dao Venerable maintained his upright posture. Compared to Ji Hengyu’s composure, the Supreme Dao Venerable’s face was unmistakably filled with astonishment. He pointed at Ji Hengyu, speechless for a long moment.

In an instant, the Divine Palace erupted into chaos.

Screams, roars, panicked shouts. Martial Immortals surged forward with troops, but it was all in vain. They turned into mist one after another before they even got close. Pavilions on the cloud island toppled, things being destroyed right before their eyes.

Ji Hengyu’s expression was ruthless. He pushed the sword in another inch.

The Supreme Dao Venerable looked down at the dissipating soul essence, his face sinking. He squeezed out a few words through gritted teeth: “Ji Hengyu, are you rebelling?”

Ji Hengyu’s sharp gaze met his without flinching. “My father’s clan fought alongside the myriad laws for ten thousand years. In times of crisis for all beings, they sacrificed their physical bodies and stabilized the seas with their divine souls. His life was upright, worthy of heaven and earth, and even more worthy of the Heavenly Dao. My mother and I were imprisoned by you in the Guixu Sea Prison. Although we were not sinners, we suffered criminal punishment. I ask you, Heavenly Venerable, when you stood on the Ninth Heaven, pitying all beings, did you ever pity my clan? And did you ever remember how my infant sister died?”

His words dripped with blood, hatred burning in his eyes, no longer able to suppress the long-restrained indignation and resentment.

His younger sister had still had a breath of life.

To obtain the life-saving spiritual medicine, Ji Hengyu knelt at the foot of the Heavenly Pavilion for forty-nine days, finally moving the Medicine Immortal Elder, who gave him a spirit elixir for protecting meridians.

However, when he returned, his sister had already been devoured by sea demons.

Ji Hengyu blamed all of this on himself. He diligently cultivated, focusing on the way of the sword, foolishly hoping to defy fate with his own power.

At that time, he was young and impulsive, relatively naive.

He didn’t understand that being too conspicuous would eventually lead to having one’s fangs pulled out.

Later, Ji Hengyu learned that his sister’s death was caused by the Divine Realm.

The Kui clan had always been a source of apprehension for the Heavenly Pavilion. With the myriad laws already fallen, if this clan continued to grow, no one in the current Divine Realm would likely be their match. Thus, the female infant was killed, leaving only the male child.

Ji Hengyu also didn’t know that while he was kneeling and begging for medicine, those above the Heavenly Pavilion were mocking the boy’s foolishness and gullibility.

If he didn’t hate, who would?

If he didn’t rebel, who would?!

“Heavenly Venerable wants me to be sacrificed for the world like my father’s clan, but you should understand that my nature is untamed. How could I comply with your wishes like my father’s clan? You should have anticipated all of this long ago.”

Ji Hengyu lowered his eyes, his gaze cold and drawn out, his words filled with sarcasm and disdain.

The Supreme Dao Venerable remained silent for a long time, his divine soul already shattered by Ji Hengyu’s sword.

The illusion shattered, everything collapsed. Ji Hengyu flicked his sleeve, drawing out the Chi Li Sword, standing alone amidst the destruction of heaven and earth. He seemed to be laughing, yet also grieving, mocking the shattered scene before him, “Heavenly Venerable, you sacrificed a wisp of your divine soul to create this state of mind to lead me onto the path. What a pity, someone was willing to guide me in my dream.” He chuckled, “Thank you, Heavenly Venerable, for helping me break through my inner demons.”

The Supreme Dao Venerable’s calm expression completely shattered.

This was the first time he had been so enraged since becoming a god.

To ensure Ji Hengyu’s smooth martyrdom for the world, the Supreme Dao Venerable had made thorough preparations.

In this meticulously woven mental landscape, he shaped Ji Hengyu’s character as compassionate, merciful, and filled with great love. The Supreme Dao Venerable was aware of Sang Li and Li Ningxi’s entry, but the mental landscape was already formed, and altering it would nullify the entire plan.

So he used some means to make Sang Li the great calamity, Yen Jiuying.

The Supreme Dao Venerable even held back a trick: while Sang Li entered the dream, he also sent Si Tu into the mental landscape. If the two developed feelings, that would be ideal; if not, Si Tu’s possessiveness towards Ji Hengyu could still cause disruption.

In this illusory dream, Yen Jiuying, who represented disaster, was actually the manifestation of Ji Hengyu’s inner demons.

Once Ji Hengyu personally slew Yen Jiuying, it would also mean he had slain his past self, completely severed ties with his past, and in the adulation of the world, become the true leader of the righteous path.

Although the woman named Sang Sang had a karmic connection with him, Ji Hengyu still chose to abandon love and kill her. The common people praised him for this, and everything developed according to the predetermined trajectory.

The Supreme Dao Venerable didn’t know where it went wrong.

As the scenery blurred, Ji Hengyu coldly watched his body melt into specks of light before his eyes.

Of course, he wouldn’t know.

All along, Ji Hengyu had so detested his own unclean body and identity, but when Sang Sang appeared in this world, everything changed.

From the moment Ji Hengyu fell in love with Sang Sang, it also meant that he accepted his once unbearable self.

To love another is to love oneself.

This was the truth she taught him.

Ji Hengyu looked up at the shattered sky. He thought, it was time for him to wake up.