AUOF - 29

Ji Xun was first startled by his sudden appearance, then inexplicably began to feel panic.

It was as if he knew he was merely an inferior imitation, yet had brazenly taken something that didn’t belong to him. Ji Hengyu’s arrival shattered this truth, and for a fleeting moment, the guilt made Ji Xun deliberately avoid those cold, piercing eyes. He lowered his long lashes, his posture growing even more rigid.

“Master, why have you come?” Ji Xun asked awkwardly. Despite his unease, he still didn’t choose to leave Sang Li’s side, even carefully shielding her, afraid she might fall if he wasn’t careful.

Ji Hengyu noticed this subtle movement, a cold smirk forming in his heart. His gaze then shifted to Sang Li, who remained oblivious. “Am I interrupting something?”

Ji Xun remained silent, feeling increasingly awkward.

Ji Hengyu’s lips curled into a smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “If I hadn’t shown up, were you planning to hold a wedding ceremony with her?”

Among the Evil Soul and Slaughter Soul, the Slaughter Soul was always the rational one.

Ji Hengyu had originally thought that by placing his heart in his split body, he could focus on cultivation for a while. But what happened? Within two days, his consciousness sea was flooded with impure thoughts.

These included but were not limited to: farming and weaving, lotus positions, fawning flattery, peach blossoms, and dragon-phoenix entwining like mandarin ducks.

The first requirement for secluded cultivation was “stillness.”

A calm mind, body, and soul were essential; without it, even a thousand years of seclusion would be futile.

At first, Ji Hengyu assumed it was Ji Wu—after all, he represented the “evil energy of heaven and earth,” and having consumed numerous lustful ghosts, absorbing such impurities was to be expected.

Who would have thought it wasn’t him? The real culprit turned out to be the ever-trustworthy Ji Xun.

Though Ji Xun was the Slaughter Soul, he was much more honest compared to the Evil Soul.

To him, the body was merely a vessel. Before possessing the heart, Ji Xun had only been a split body under Ji Hengyu’s control, his actions entirely dictated by Ji Hengyu himself. Unbeknownst to him, the knowledge he absorbed wasn’t pure.

Ji Xun might not have realized this, but Ji Hengyu did.

His cultivation was disrupted, and seclusion could no longer continue. Worse still, Ji Hengyu discovered that Ji Xun had secretly entered the secret realm and interfered with the selection process.

If he hadn’t intervened now, who knows what else Ji Xun might have done.

Hearing this, Ji Xun raised his head, his eyes filled with confusion: “What is a wedding ceremony?”

For the Slaughter Soul, only slaughter mattered; weddings were meaningless.

Despite having absorbed so many impure stories, he now didn’t even know what a wedding was.

Ji Hengyu fell silent for a moment, then waved his sleeve in resignation: “Never mind. The fifteenth day is approaching. Return immediately.”

Before Ji Xun could react, Ji Hengyu forcibly retrieved him and the heart.

As the heart returned to his chest, the uneasy throbbing caused by the Silken Thread Curse made Ji Hengyu slightly furrow his brows.

The emotions of the three souls were interconnected.

Sensing Ji Hengyu’s displeasure, Ji Xun immediately apologized: [Master, I am deeply sorry.]

He apologized in the consciousness sea, his tone filled with remorse. [I just…]

Just what, he couldn’t explain, so he fell silent.

Ji Hengyu: “The selection is no trivial matter. For all participating disciples, fairness must come first. What you’ve done is no different from favoritism and cheating.”

Ji Xun choked, fearing that Ji Hengyu would annul Sang Li’s results or refuse to let him out again.

Though their time together had been brief, he had indeed grown fond of having a heart.

Ji Xun hurriedly explained: [Ji Xun never interfered. She broke through the Realm of No Thought entirely on her own. She merely drank from the True Form Spring by mistake, which allowed Shen Zheyou to see her true form. Aside from bringing her here, Ji Xun did nothing else.]

Ji Hengyu glanced indifferently at Sang Li.

She leaned against the tree trunk, sleeping with her head tilted. Her tail, too fluffy, wrapped around her abdomen from behind. Whenever there was a sound, the tip of her tail twitched slightly—an almost imperceptible movement, yet hard to ignore.

Her large, gradient-pink tail looked soft and squeezable.

Ji Hengyu stared at the nine tails for a long time, silent, but his mood inexplicably improved by a fraction.

Ji Hengyu then noticed the floating memory orb—what Ji Xun had extracted but hadn’t yet viewed.

He summoned the small glowing orb to his palm with a flick of his finger, and the memory orb surged toward his forehead.

After some thought, Ji Hengyu set up a private seal, deliberately avoiding sharing it with the others, and absorbed the memories of what had occurred in the Realm of No Thought alone.

The girl in the memory looked much the same as she did now, only stripped of her current allure, leaving behind the vitality and innocence unique to a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old.

That world was unfamiliar to Ji Hengyu.

Everything was devoid of spiritual energy, yet humans relied solely on their intelligence to create an entirely new prosperity. Even Ji Hengyu found himself intrigued by these things called “technology.”

She seemed… livelier there.

Ji Hengyu blinked. Even though Sang Li had said nothing, even though she had once dared to stab him and slap him, he could sense her wariness and caution around him.

But in that modern “21st century,” she was entirely different.

More relaxed, more vibrant.

She excelled in her studies, had good relationships, and devoted herself wholeheartedly to striving for “Tsinghua University.” She was full of youthful energy, like a little sun.

She had many friends, dreams, and a run-down house she called “home.”

Content and carefree.

Which was why, upon realizing she could never return, she had cried uncontrollably.

The memory orb gradually dissipated before his eyes.

Her body swayed precariously, as if about to fall. Instinctively, Ji Hengyu summoned a gentle breeze to support her.

Ji Hengyu didn’t leave. He floated high above, gazing down at her.

This time, his eyes held curiosity and inquiry.

In Sang Li’s memories, she might not have noticed, but as an observer, Ji Hengyu caught many admiring glances directed at her—even Ji Xun had fallen so quickly. Though the Silken Thread Curse played a part, it still astonished him.

Admiration.

This word was foreign to Ji Hengyu. If not for the Silken Thread Curse, even after five thousand or fifty thousand years, his heart would remain as solid as a rock, undisturbed by any ripples.

When his mother was pregnant with him, his father had already died in battle, and his mother was imprisoned in the 888th level of the Abyss Prison.

At that time, he lived within her womb, listening day and night to the resentment of the sea monsters, growing bit by bit. Among these voices, only his mother spoke to him through the spiritual sea.

She told him of his valiant, fallen father’s clan;

Of their meeting;

Of how, though lowly as a Kui Snake , he was wholehearted, and one day they would escape the prison and meet their destined love.

With her dying breath, she said—

[My child, love the world, and you shall find love.]

But what was love?

Ji Hengyu was born in a prison. For the first five hundred years of his life, he never saw the light of day. To save his younger sister, he climbed step by step, only to face tragedy in the end.

The Heavenly Dao tasked him with safeguarding immortality but feared his swordsmanship and musical heart.

The world demanded his bloodline to benefit all beings but cursed his lowly status, deeming him unworthy of ascending to the immortal platform.

“True love”—how laughable.

The Silken Thread Curse planted in his heart hinted at drawing closer to her. The curse mark on his left wrist also subtly heated up.

For the first time, Ji Hengyu didn’t resist the Silken Thread Curse. Slowly, he drifted closer, leaning slightly down toward Sang Li.

When her eyes were closed, she appeared as docile as a moon lotus.

Unable to resist, Ji Hengyu raised his hand to touch her fox ears.

However, just as he was a hair’s breadth away from those fluffy ears, he restrained himself.

His fingers hovered there for a moment before curling into a fist, tightening and slowly dropping to his side. His gaze also grew clear and distant, as if the earlier softness had been nothing but an illusion.

He was still the sober, unshakable Lord Tian Heng of the heavens.

Ji Hengyu turned and left without a word, leaving behind only the Mirror Flower, Water Moon illusion.

**

Time flowed on, but the sky within the secret realm remained unchanged.

Sang Li, sleeping on the tree trunk, rolled over groggily. Fortunately, the protective barrier Ji Hengyu had set up before leaving kept her from falling.

Sang Li suddenly snapped awake, shooting upright with a start.

The first thing she did upon waking was to touch her ears and tail, confirming that the fur had disappeared before letting out a relieved sigh and patting her chest.

Thank goodness. It seemed the effects of the spring water had worn off.

But… where was she?

Sang Li looked around in confusion, realizing she was perched on a branch of a tree. The branch was thick enough to easily accommodate another person lying down.

The question was—why was she in a tree?

Sang Li stroked her chin thoughtfully. She vaguely remembered breaking through her own limitations and developing a cultivation technique unique to herself. Then, to escape Shen Zheyou, she had run into a cloud of sand.

And then… it seemed… she had been saved by Ji Hengyu??

Sang Li surveyed her surroundings. Endless yellow sand stretched out as far as the eye could see, with only this towering tree beneath her breaking the monotony.

On second thought, given Ji Hengyu’s personality, the idea of him saving someone seemed like a fairy tale.

So, she must have been caught in the sandstorm and carried here.

Sang Li dismissed these impractical thoughts and focused on finding an exit.

Upon reflection, since entering the illusion, she hadn’t encountered a single sign of life. If her guess was correct…

She tilted her head back and gazed at the towering tree before her.

Its height reached the heavens, its dense branches all growing upward. This place was very likely the exit!

With a light tap of her toes, Sang Li leapt gracefully onto the next branch like a swallow.

She was delighted. Since waking up, not only had her mind become crystal clear, but her body felt as light as a leaf. It seemed she had truly grown stronger.

Even if she failed the trial, this progress alone was enough to satisfy her.

Leaping from branch to branch, she eventually spotted what appeared to be an exit—a shimmering watery portal floating at the highest point. Just as she was about to gather momentum and leap out, the collar of her robe was suddenly grabbed from behind.

Eh???

Sang Li froze, dangling like a kite as the person pulled her along. Before she could react, he had already flown her out of the secret realm and dropped her unceremoniously in the middle of the altar, as if tossing a chick.

The landing nearly knocked her soul out of her body—and moreover—

Ouch!!

Her knees slammed against the hard stone floor, causing a bone-cracking pain that made her grimace. Before she could get up, a golden immortal-binding rope extended toward her, binding her entire body and forcing her back onto the ground.

The trial was now in its final stages.

Aside from the disciples who had passed the test, Yue Zhuqing and Li Ningxi, who had just emerged from the secret realm, were also present. Additionally, seated at the top of the floating cloud stairs were the Examination Division officials and Ji Hengyu.

Being bound and displayed in front of so many people felt like public humiliation.

Sang Li was both angry and embarrassed. She glared up at the culprit, her voice filled with indignation: “Are you insane?! Why are you tying me up?!”

Yue Zhuqing frowned and approached, while the Examination Division official was equally perplexed: “What is this, Immortal Shen?”

Ignoring the stares of the crowd, Shen Zheyou clasped his hands together and bowed slightly toward the floating cloud stairs, his posture impeccable and his tone calm and measured: “Within the Realm of Illusions, I discovered a fox spirit disguised as a participant. The Celestial Mirror can serve as evidence.”

At the sound of this, Yue Zhuqing stepped forward: “Whom do you refer to?”

Shen Zheyou pointed directly at her: “This one—the maid from Huansha Garden, Sang Li.”

Shen Zheyou’s blatant naming of names froze the anger on Sang Li’s face.

She had originally planned to use the fact that the Realm of Illusions was full of deceptive barriers to counter his accusations once they exited. But she had forgotten about the existence of the Celestial Mirror.

The Celestial Mirror here was akin to modern surveillance, even more precise—it could capture even the smallest fly entering the realm.

She had drunk from the True Form Spring, reverted to her original form, and been seen firsthand by Shen Zheyou. The Celestial Mirror must have recorded it as well.

What should she do?

Was she really going to be thrown into the Abyss Prison?

Instinctively, her gaze shifted upward, landing on Ji Hengyu.

Perhaps because he had waited too long, the man in ink-black robes lazily propped his chin on his hand, his eyelids half-closed, seemingly indifferent to the commotion below.

Shen Zheyou’s words caused astonishment among the immortals.

Gui Xu was different from other celestial domains—it was a legitimate prison. Even the Yanjing Tower wouldn’t dare intrude recklessly.

For a small fox spirit to disguise its aura and infiltrate Gui Xu, let alone participate in the celestial selection process, was absurd and difficult to believe.

The Examination Division immediately interjected: “The Celestial Mirror was affected by an array and was only recently repaired before your exit.” In other words, it hadn’t captured the scene Shen Zheyou described.

Shen Zheyou was momentarily surprised, his handsome lips pressing tightly together, his expression turning somewhat grave.

Hearing this, Sang Li felt a renewed sense of confidence.

Bound and unable to move, she wriggled and crawled like a caterpillar on the ground, taking a long time to reach the front. She shouted loudly toward the high platform: “I’m not a demon! During the trial, I was dragged into a minor illusion with Immortal Shen. After we escaped, he accused me of being a demon and tried to kill me!”

Yue Zhuqing glanced subtly at the bound Sang Li and said to Shen Zheyou: “The Realm of Illusions is constructed from layer upon layer of illusions. Those unfamiliar with its layout can easily become lost. Immortal Shen, this being your first time entering, perhaps you made a mistake?”

Seeing Yue Zhuqing defending her, Sang Li nodded frantically like a chicken pecking at rice.

She desperately wriggled her bottom toward Yue Zhuqing: “Senior Sister, Senior Sister, please believe me! I’m not a demon. Look at me—do I look like the kind of mischievous little fox spirit who does bad things?”

As she spoke, Sang Li tried her hardest to widen her alluring fox-like eyes into round orbs, hoping to prove her innocence.

This was supposed to be a serious occasion, but her antics and goofy expressions made Yue Zhuqing almost burst out laughing.

She wasn’t sure whether Sang Li was a fox spirit or not, but right now, she certainly looked more like a chubby caterpillar.

In truth, even without Sang Li explaining, Yue Zhuqing wouldn’t have believed Shen Zheyou’s claims.

First, there was no concrete evidence. Second, Gui Xu was heavily fortified with countless barriers. If she were truly a demon, she wouldn’t have been able to slip past Ji Hengyu, let alone leave with him on a demon-subduing mission and return safely.

“Immortal Shen,” Yue Zhuqing said, “this maid, Sang Li, has performed admirably, impressing us all. This matter is serious, and we cannot make accusations lightly.”

The elder also sided with Sang Li, strongly objecting to Shen Zheyou’s claims.

For a moment, voices rose and fell in heated debate. Some disapproved of Shen Zheyou’s actions, while others remained suspicious. Some even secretly pulled out their personal Celestial Mirrors, capturing the scene to share with their immortal friends for entertainment.

Such a commotion naturally drew the attention of Situ as well.

She arrived with a group of Tian Pavilion disciples, pushing through the crowd arrogantly and striding directly to the center of the altar.

“Senior Brother, what’s going on?” After asking Shen Zheyou, Situ turned her gaze to the struggling, bound figure of Sang Li on the ground, her expression one of surprise. “Sang Li? What are you doing tied up? Who did this to you?”

Great, another savior had arrived!!

Sang Li wriggled and crawled toward Situ, unhesitatingly tattling on Shen Zheyou: “Goddess Situ, please reason with Immortal Shen. He insists I’m a fox spirit and wants to throw me into the Water Lotus Dungeon to endure the Freezing Bones Punishment!”

Upon hearing this, Situ sharply inhaled.

Before coming to Gui Xu, she had heard of its fearsome reputation.

Beneath the sea of Gui Xu lay 888 levels of dungeons.

The deeper you went, the more terrifying the criminals became. The lowest level didn’t imprison mere demons or spirits—it held ancient chaos gods from ten thousand years ago! Legend had it that no one except Ji Hengyu had ever seen the depths below the 500th level.

Each level of the Abyss Prison had its corresponding punishments.

The Water Lotus Dungeon—it was a living hell where life was worse than death!

“Senior Brother, you must have made a mistake,” Situ declared with utmost seriousness, her tone resolute. “She can’t possibly be a fox spirit. Let her go.”

Even the usually arrogant and overbearing Situ was siding with Sang Li, causing Shen Zheyou’s eyes to narrow slightly.

His probing gaze was sharp as a blade, forcing Sang Li to shrink back behind Situ.

Seeing this, Situ felt an opportunity arise!

If she could save the little maid from this predicament, resolve the misunderstanding, and ensure her safety, wouldn’t she win the maid’s trust in an instant?

With this thought, Situ puffed out her chest confidently: “Senior Brother, without evidence, such matters cannot be decided arbitrarily.”

Sang Li nodded vigorously in agreement: “Exactly! Goddess is absolutely right—it can’t be decided so recklessly.”

Receiving approval for the first time, the goddess happily patted the top of her head.

After lying on the cold, hard floor for so long, Sang Li’s back was stiff and sore. She grew bolder and whispered to Situ: “Goddess, could you help me sit up? My back hurts from lying on the ground...”

Situ generously helped her sit up. Sang Li didn’t dare stand fully, so she leaned back against Situ’s legs.

The two—one standing, one sitting—looked quite close and familiar, leaving Yue Zhuqing and Li Ningxi thoroughly astonished.

Li Ningxi couldn’t help but whisper into Yue Zhuqing’s ear: “Is the goddess really this easy to get along with?”

Yue Zhuqing remained silent, equally surprised.

To be honest, her impression of Situ wasn’t good. Setting aside the fact that she was Emperor Qi’s daughter, Situ was arrogant, domineering, unreasonable, and far from the image of a benevolent goddess.

During the months in Gui Xu, the Tian Pavilion disciples had caused trouble multiple times, yet Situ allowed it freely, never intervening.

Today was the first time… she had acted so reasonably.

And all for a lowly maid.

From this perspective, the fact that she would oppose her senior brother for the sake of a maid meant she wasn’t entirely irredeemable.

“Immortal Shen, do you have any evidence?” Yue Zhuqing seized the opportunity to ask.

Shen Zheyou: “I saw it with my own eyes.”

Yue Zhuqing: “In the Realm of Illusions, what you see isn’t necessarily true. Besides that, do you have anything else to present?”

“Just what are you saying? Are you deliberately bullying our Gui Xu?”

“You can’t just accuse someone without evidence!”

“Don’t take advantage of your position as a Guardian of Heaven to bully a young girl.”

“Look how beautiful this maid is. Could it be that you’re angry because she rejected your advances?”

Many people began shifting their stance, openly opposing Shen Zheyou, even spawning absurd rumors.

Listening to these comments, Shen Zheyou remained expressionless, his thoughts unreadable.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a chilling voice suddenly drifted down from above the floating clouds—

“In that case, we’ll use the Revelation Mirror. Whether she’s human or demon, one test will reveal the truth.”

The speaker was none other than Ji Hengyu.

In an instant, the clamor died down, replaced by silence. All eyes turned toward one direction.

Ji Hengyu had risen and was now descending step by step down the floating cloud stairs toward the crowd.

Sang Li tilted her head upward, staring at Ji Hengyu in astonishment.

Layer upon layer of light obscured his features, and with each step closer, the oppressive aura around him tightened.

Finally, he arrived at the center of the altar.

Ji Hengyu’s brow was calm, and he didn’t spare Sang Li a glance. With a faint smile, he locked eyes with Shen Zheyou. His voice was soft and smooth, each word drifting past everyone’s ears with deliberate clarity—

“Immortal Shen agrees with this course of action, doesn’t he?”

The Revelation Mirror was a secret treasure of the immortals, functioning similarly to the True Form Spring.

Whether one was human or demon, a single glance would reveal the truth.

Shen Zheyou had intended to suggest this exact method—it was the most straightforward way to prove her identity—but Ji Hengyu had beaten him to it.

Sang Li’s face instantly turned pale.

She was inherently a fox spirit. Although the Yanjing Tower had cast spells to lock her spirit core and conceal her fox aura, they couldn’t hide the fact that she was a fox.

If she were truly subjected to the Revelation Mirror, the outcome would be glaringly obvious.

Why was Ji Hengyu doing this?

Could it be that he really intended to expose her and throw her into the Abyss Prison? But what benefit would that bring him?

“Your name is…?” Ji Hengyu looked over at her, his expression distant.

Sang Li remained silent. That bastard sure knew how to act.

Nevertheless, she answered respectfully: “This lowly servant’s name is Sang Li.”

“Sang Li.” He feigned realization, his smile deepening as he asked, “What do you think of this?”

What did she think?

What kind of nonsense was this!

She couldn’t figure out what Ji Hengyu was up to, but then she remembered the Silken Thread Curse binding them together. If something were to happen to her, he’d suffer just as much. With that thought, she calmed down.

“This servant defers to Your Excellency. Whatever you wish to do, so shall it be.”

The smile in Ji Hengyu’s eyes deepened slightly.

He approached Shen Zheyou, his tone unhurried: “However.”

That single word instantly made Sang Li perk up.

As expected, even if this bastard didn’t care about her life or death, he wouldn’t let himself suffer unnecessarily. There must be another plan.

“This is Gui Xu’s stronghold. If there truly is a demon among us, it reflects our failure, and we deserve punishment. I will personally slay the demon. However, if this is merely a misjudgment on your part, Immortal Shen, it unjustly tarnishes Gui Xu’s reputation. For both Gui Xu and this young maid, it would be an undeserved calamity. What does Immortal Shen propose we do about this?”

Shen Zheyou’s gaze flickered: “It should also be punished accordingly.”

“Good.” Ji Hengyu extended his hand and commanded, “Qing’er, bring the Revelation Mirror.”

Yue Zhuqing ordered someone to fetch the Revelation Mirror and placed it in the center of the altar.

The Revelation Mirror stood as tall as a person, its shape resembling an ordinary standing mirror. However, its surface was pitch black, swirling with cloud-like dark energy.

Ji Hengyu’s lips curled faintly as he turned to Shen Zheyou: “Would Immortal Shen like to personally inspect it?”

If he agreed, wouldn’t it clearly show distrust toward Ji Hengyu?

Shen Zheyou naturally wouldn’t embarrass himself and replied after a brief hesitation: “There’s no need. I trust Your Excellency.”

“Since that’s settled,” his gaze swept over, “bring her forward.”