AUOF - 2

This was the first time these disciples of the immortal sect had ever seen the true face of Lord Tianheng.

Ji Hengyu was a descendant of the ancient Kuí clan.

Before experiencing the battle of the barren mountains three thousand years ago, he was also acclaimed as a prodigy of the celestial pavilion.

Born with divine bones and spiritual roots, even his blood could purify all things. Which of the celestial lords did not envy him? Unfortunately, during that godly battle, Emperor Qi crushed his immortal marrow with a single sword strike, and now he can only guard the myriad ghosts beneath the heavens from this remote place.

They originally thought that such a genius would be utterly defeated after such a calamity.

Never did they imagine that he would still possess an otherworldly demeanor, remain calm and composed, and even exude an aura surpassing theirs.

The disciples who had followed Situ here with bravado suddenly shrank back, hiding behind like turtles.

Seeing their cowardly behavior, Situ gritted her teeth, inwardly sneering at their lack of backbone.

“It’s you! My junior brother saw everything! The medicine-delivering fairy maid entered your chamber but didn’t come out. He approached out of curiosity and heard a woman weeping, then saw you in a compromising position inside the hall. Ji Hengyu, do you still intend to deny it?”

Her arrogance blazed, sharp-tongued and determined to get an explanation from Ji Hengyu.

Ji Hengyu glanced at the young disciple hiding behind her.

The young disciple stood timidly, feeling the gaze upon him, his shoulders trembling reflexively as he instinctively lowered his head to avoid Ji Hengyu’s eyes.

“Is that so.”

His voice was calm, devoid of any smile on his face.

Ji Hengyu: “What if I say it didn’t happen?”

Situ refused to relent, pressing further: “That fairy maid has been in your quarters since entering and hasn’t come out. Presumably, she’s still in your sleeping chambers. Whether or not it happened, let me go in and check to find out.”

Ji Hengyu chuckled softly: “Though I am merely an insignificant overseer of Gui Xu now, I still manage its disciples. If they were to know that anyone could enter my Shuoguang Hall where I rest, where would my dignity be?”

As he spoke, his gaze lingered on the young disciple.

His expression was gentle, “Lady Situ’s account is based solely on his words. What if he misinterpreted or fabricated slanderous rumors against me?”

Situ’s face paled slightly: “What... what do you mean?”

Ji Hengyu smiled but remained silent.

He waved his sleeve, summoning a dark red vine. Upon closer inspection, the vine was covered in tiny teeth—dense and sharp—and when it moved, each tiny mouth emitted a sinister, faint laughter.

“This is the Yan Chun Vine, which thrives on the blood of liars.” Holding the vine, he stared at Situ’s delicate face and calmly continued, “If what you see isn’t true, it devours your eyes; if what you say is false, it consumes your tongue; if your heart and words don’t align, it swallows your heart and lungs, grinding your intestines to blood.”

The more he spoke, the quieter the courtyard became. The young disciple’s head shot up, his expression clearly one of fear.

Sang Li, transformed into a fish, stared at the venomous vine, utterly stunned.

The Yan Chun Vine’s infant-like, piercing laughter echoed incessantly throughout the courtyard, sending chills down everyone’s spines.

“True or false, a test will reveal.”

“Ji Hengyu, how dare you—!”

Before anyone could react, Ji Hengyu had already flung the Yan Chun Vine onto the young disciple.

He cried out in shock as the vine grew from his flesh, crawling like a living thing, slowly encasing his eyes, ears, nose, and mouth, locking his entire body tightly from the inside out.

Ji Hengyu loomed over him, “In front of Lady Situ, I ask you once more: Did you see me engaging in misconduct with the fairy maid?”

Situ’s mind wavered, fearing that the truth might bring trouble upon herself, yet also afraid that he might lose his life over it.

Situ remained silent, but one of her loyal followers behind her shot the young disciple a warning glare.

Under the pressure, he nodded, then shook his head, unable to explain himself properly.

In the next instant, the Yan Chun Vine sprang into action.

Tiny mouths filled with sharp teeth approached his eyeballs, their voices high-pitched and childish: “False vision, eat it!”

As the words fell, the vine plunged straight into his eye.

Amidst cries of pain, the young disciple stumbled and collapsed to the ground.

“Afeng—!”

Situ screamed, attempting to cast a spell to remove the devouring vine, but her magic rebounded off it, striking her instead. She whimpered in pain, nearly falling over.

“I was wrong! I didn’t see clearly! It was my mistake!”

“Senior Sister, save me! Lord Tianheng, I was wrong!”

Both of his eyeballs had already been devoured, leaving behind two bloody holes.

At this point, he clutched his eyes, desperately struggling to break free.

But it was too late—the Yan Chun Vine wouldn’t spare him just because he begged—

“False words, eat them!”

The densely packed teeth tore out his tongue, silencing his pleas for mercy, leaving only difficult sobs.

“A deceitful heart, eat it!”

Just moments ago, he was a lively young boy; in the blink of an eye, he was reduced to an empty shell.

Since his immortal body hadn’t fully formed, he couldn’t dissipate into celestial dust and drift away. Instead, his bloody corpse lay sprawled in the courtyard.

Blood flowed freely,

seeping into the cracks of the ground, heading toward the pool.

Sang Li felt as if needles were pricking her entire body, retreating slightly to avoid being tainted by the blood.

Looking back at Ji Hengyu, he stood tall and straight, his eyes lowered, gazing down at them.

Situ wasn’t exactly virtuous, but that didn’t mean she could watch her junior brother die in front of her because of a lie. Shocked, she froze momentarily.

Witnessing a fellow disciple killed, the disciples behind her were enraged. Regardless of his status, they stepped forward and shouted: “You dare harm a disciple of the Heavenly Pavilion! I’ll report this to the higher realms immediately!”

“Go ahead,” Ji Hengyu said indifferently, “I believe the Supreme Dao Ancestor wouldn’t tolerate deceitful frauds under his command.”

He extended his hand, recalling the Yan Chun Vine back into his sleeve.

“The facts are clear. Does Lady Situ still wish to investigate?”

The air thick with the smell of blood, Ji Hengyu asked softly, his eyes devoid of emotion, seemingly unbothered by their presence.

Situ snapped back to reality, her hatred and anger toward him deepening.

She wasn’t foolish; by now, she realized Ji Hengyu had seen through her little scheme. If she persisted, her own safety would be at risk.

Finally, she took one last look at the corpse on the ground, tears welling up in her eyes.

Swallowing her humiliation, she ordered her people to collect the young disciple’s remains and carefully gather his scattered soul fragments, preparing to send him back into the cycle of reincarnation. After completing these tasks, she left in a huff, her back radiating resentment.

The courtyard returned to silence.

Ji Hengyu remained standing motionless in place.

Sang Li, hidden in the pool, silently observed the entire scene. She felt uneasy, sensing that Ji Hengyu’s attention lingered nearby.

Uncomfortable.

Her whole body felt as though sticky fur balls clung to her, impossible to shake off.

Finally, Ji Hengyu moved.

“Clean this up.”

He issued a command.

Green leaves from the trees began to fall one after another, resembling cute little green figures, rushing to clean up the remaining blood on the ground. To call it “cleaning” would be inaccurate—it was more like they were “eating” it.

The entire scene was eerie yet... carried a hint of cuteness.

Sang Li still dared not make a move.

Once she confirmed Ji Hengyu wouldn’t emerge again, she quickly transformed and fled from the Shuoguang Hall.

Little did she know, the Kuitian Cloud Plate inside the hall monitored the entire Gui Xu realm.

“I devoured her soul; there’s no way she could still be alive.”

A streak of red qi emerged from Ji Hengyu’s left shoulder, its voice indistinguishable from Ji Hengyu’s. It probed toward the Kuitian Cloud Plate, seemingly curious yet investigative.

A wisp of black qi swiftly followed from the same shoulder, asserting, “She is a Suí spirit.”

Three thousand years ago, Diqi, the God of Order, attempted to restore order to the heavens by setting up an array on a barren mountain that opened the gates of heaven.

Following this event, systems became chaotic, and space distorted. Creatures from ten thousand years ago or a millennium into the future began to emerge, wreaking havoc across the Nine Ling realms, making it impossible for even grass to grow. People referred to these beings from beyond as “Suí.”

But never had there been a “Suí spirit” capable of directly seizing another’s body.

“I’ll kill her.”

The black qi was more rational.

Eliminating potential threats was the best course of action.

The red qi retorted: “No, no, no. She’s a rare nine-tailed fox spirit. If we consume her, she’ll ward off karmic obstacles for us.”

The black qi disagreed, scoffing, “Some lowly wild fox—you’re not afraid of catching a plague from eating wild game?”

This angered the red qi: “Nonsense! By your logic, weren’t you just mating with a wild fox yesterday? Your whole body must be covered in hernias!”

Black qi: “It wasn’t my body being used, so if anything grows, it won’t be on me.”

Thus, the two began an incessant argument, each with their own rationale, creating a cacophony that only added to Ji Hengyu’s already mounting frustration.

He frowned, raised his hand to rub his temples, and then waved to forcefully suppress both within his consciousness.

With the noise silenced, Ji Hengyu exhaled deeply, finally feeling some relief.

***

Sang Li managed to escape from Shuoguang Hall rather smoothly this time.

The original host’s current identity was that of a minor fairy maid responsible for serving tea and attending to guests.

Compared to other major sects in the celestial realm, Gui Xu had pitifully few fairy maids—only about forty or fifty in total. They were all housed in Huansha Garden, the designated residence for the fairy maids.

Due to Gui Xu’s vast land and sparse population, even the lowly maids enjoyed relatively spacious accommodations, sharing rooms in pairs, with quite comfortable living conditions.

It was daytime now, and all the fairy maids were busy at the front hall, allowing her to relax and cleanse herself at Moon Purification Pool without worry.

Moon Purification Pool consisted of various large and small spiritual spring pools.

To avoid being seen, Sang Li deliberately chose a secluded corner. Once she shed her clothes and entered the pool, her taut muscles finally relaxed, giving her a chance to examine her current body properly.

The original host, being a fox spirit, had been trained to seduce, so naturally, her physique was exquisite.

Unlike the modern ideal of skeletal beauty, this body was more voluptuous.

Though her frame was petite, her figure was curvaceous wherever you looked once she removed her clothes.

Her waist, though slender, felt soft to the touch, while her long legs were shapely and full. Her skin was smooth and delicate, like polished jade, and even her toes resembled peeled lychees.

However...

The marks on her body were glaring, and despite soaking in the spiritual spring, the wounds continued to throb painfully. It would likely take two or three days for them to fade.

She couldn’t help but think back to last night.

And then recall how the man, despite his slender build, possessed two...

No!

Was this something she should be thinking about?!!!

Sang Li’s eyelid twitched violently, and she slapped her cheeks to forcibly expel those impure images from her mind.

Nevertheless… it had to be said, this was indeed the world of xianxia (immortal fiction), offering quite the eye-opener for a college student like her.

After soaking in the spiritual spring, her body finally felt somewhat at ease.

However, the marks remained, and it was unclear when they would completely fade. Those ambiguous red marks were unmistakable to anyone who cared to look closely.

Sang Li was still unfamiliar with using spells and feared accidentally causing more trouble, so she returned to her quarters to diligently comb her hair in front of the mirror.

The reflection in the mirror was strikingly beautiful, bearing a seven-tenths resemblance to her former self. However, the excessive allure in her eyes made her appear somewhat unfamiliar.

Momentarily mesmerized by her own stunning beauty, and unable to manage the intricate hairstyles, she simply pinned her hair loosely at the back.

The result... made her look even more frivolous.

Resigned, Sang Li considered tying her hair into a simple ponytail when suddenly, a sound came from outside—

“Sang Li, are you here?”

The voice was familiar—it was Situ, whom she’d just heard at Shuoguang Hall.

Her hand trembled, and her heart raced.

Without much thought, she knew why Situ had come.

That day, Situ bribed the overseer to ensure the original host delivered the medicine alone. At the time, the original host had sensed something amiss but decided to play along to assassinate Ji Hengyu. Little did she expect Ji Hengyu to make her taste the medicine, let alone anticipate the presence of Mandala Flower Poison within it.

Situ was still waiting outside.

Not daring to delay, Sang Li mustered her courage and opened the door.

Situ had come alone.

She had changed her attire, and her eyes were slightly red, evidence of recent tears.

“Come with me.”

Accustomed to taking charge, Situ didn’t wait for Sang Li’s consent. Grabbing her wrist, she whisked Sang Li away to a secluded spot.

To avoid drawing attention, she cast a barrier around them.

“Let me ask you this: Did anything happen yesterday when you delivered the medicine to Ji Hengyu?”

Still immersed in grief over her junior brother’s death, Situ’s tone wasn’t overly domineering.

Sang Li kept her head bowed, avoiding eye contact, and replied steadily, “Nothing happened. I placed the medicine down, and Lord Ji dismissed me immediately.”

Situ narrowed her eyes, scrutinizing her: “He didn’t make you test the medicine?”

Sang Li tightly clenched her hands and shook her head: “Lord Ji was unwell yesterday. I... didn’t even see his true form.”

This lie was plausible.

During the height of karmic retribution, one was at their most vulnerable. Ji Hengyu, having lived for five thousand years, wouldn’t allow anyone near him.

As expected, Situ didn’t doubt her and stormed off silently, clenching her teeth in anger.

Before Sang Li could breathe a sigh of relief, Situ suddenly turned back, her almond-shaped eyes scanning Sang Li up and down.

The gaze felt like radiation, making Sang Li’s entire body tense.

She stood frozen.

Afraid Situ might detect inconsistencies in her words, and even more terrified that the marks on her body weren’t fully concealed, revealing any anomalies.

After a prolonged silence,

Accompanied by a light snort, Situ snapped her fingers and cast a spell: “You didn’t even bother to groom yourself properly before coming out, wasting such a fine appearance.”

A flash of powder-like light passed. Through the reflection in the water at her feet, Sang Li saw her hastily tied hair transformed into an elaborate flying-spirit bun. The goddess had thoughtfully adorned her with pearl-encrusted jade hairpins.

She examined Sang Li from all angles, quite pleased with her craftsmanship and aesthetic sense. Even the sorrow over her junior brother’s death dissipated somewhat in the face of such beauty.

Situ rarely smiled, but she gave Sang Li a fleeting grin before turning and disappearing.

Sang Li was momentarily speechless: “...”

If this were modern times, Goddess Situ would undoubtedly be a top-tier stylist.