AUOF - 30

Yue Zhuqing was about to step forward to assist, but Situ beat her to it: “Let me handle this.”

Her expression flickered slightly as she retracted her outstretched arms and stepped back to make room.

Situ half-dragged, half-pulled Sang Li to the front of the Revelation Mirror. Sang Li stumbled, barely managing to steady herself, her heart pounding with unease.

She believed she had concealed herself well, never revealing her fox-like traits in front of Ji Hengyu. Still, she wasn’t entirely certain whether he truly knew nothing at all.

Unable to resist, Sang Li glanced at Ji Hengyu from the corner of her eye.

As the ruthless male protagonist of the original story, Ji Hengyu was a man who dominated all around him. She didn’t believe that something as simple as the Silken Thread Curse could bind him to her so tightly that he would unquestioningly obey her.

If he had already seen through her identity beforehand, would he help conceal it? Her mind was unsettled, unable to gauge his emotions.

Ji Hengyu’s expression remained calm. “Let’s begin.”

The Revelation Mirror required a drop of blood from the fingertip to reveal one’s true form.

Yue Zhuqing reached for the needle, but Ji Hengyu took it from her instead: “Allow me.”

She looked surprised.

Ji Hengyu’s cold gaze swept over Shen Zheyou. “To put Immortal Shen’s mind at ease, I will personally handle this. What do you say?”

He smiled faintly and extended his fingers to take the silver needle.

Ji Hengyu approached Sang Li, his regal robes exuding an aura of authority that made him appear even colder and more distant than usual, adding to the overwhelming sense of pressure that was hard to meet head-on.

His towering figure nearly enveloped her completely.

Though Sang Li was tall and curvaceous, always a striking presence, she appeared exceptionally small in comparison when standing before him.

Ji Hengyu lifted her hand.

The broad palm of the man easily enclosed her delicate wrist, his fingers applying just the right amount of pressure—not too tight, not too loose.

Sang Li noticed the pale silk ribbon wrapped around his wrist, her heart stirring slightly as she instinctively raised her eyes.

The ethereal glow danced around them. His long lashes cast a faint shadow on his cheeks, his nose perfectly sculpted, and even his lips were pleasing to look at. This face was flawless, handsome as jade, refined and elegant, not as aloof as Shen Zheyou but rather gentle and scholarly—yet his eyes were like a dead lake, devoid of warmth even when he smiled.

The silver needle pierced Sang Li’s index finger.

She felt no pain; only a single drop of blood surfaced before quickly healing. At the same time, Sang Li saw a vivid red droplet seep from Ji Hengyu’s fingertip.

Her eyes widened as she suddenly realized what he intended to do.

As the revered Sovereign of Gui Xu, others wouldn’t dare to scrutinize his actions closely. Even Yue Zhuqing stood several steps away, and with his wide sleeves, it was even harder to see what he was doing.

Just because others couldn’t see clearly didn’t mean Sang Li couldn’t.

With deliberate yet subtle movements, he fused his own blood with hers, guiding her hand to touch the Revelation Mirror.

The surface of the mirror felt soft like water, rippling gently at the slightest touch.

The black mist slowly dissipated, and everyone held their breath, anxiously awaiting the impending transformation. Even Sang Li dared not breathe, her eyes fixed unwaveringly on the mirror’s surface.

Gradually, her reflection began to emerge within the mirror.

A blue-robed maiden with flying celestial buns and fox-like eyes blinked, her lashes fluttering, her expression bewildered.

“The truth is revealed! She’s not a fox spirit!”

“I told you this girl couldn’t possibly be one. If she were a fox spirit, how could Lord Ji fail to detect it?”

“Indeed, Lord Ji is the revered Tian Heng Immortal with the bloodline of Fuxi.”

Voices of admiration and agreement rose around them, unsurprised by the outcome.

Sang Li clenched her fingertips, her thoughts tangled. Ji Hengyu had truly helped her. Did this mean he already knew her true identity?

Ji Hengyu paid no heed to the murmurs behind him and smiled at Shen Zheyou: “Does Immortal Shen have any objections? If you still harbor doubts, we can test again.” With that, he opened his hand, offering the silver needle.

Shen Zheyou knew he hadn’t made a mistake.

He was well aware that Ji Hengyu was covering for her, but he couldn’t openly defy the latter’s face.

Shen Zheyou’s expression remained impassive: “There’s no need.”

Ji Hengyu didn’t press further and withdrew his hand: “According to Gui Xu’s laws, falsely accusing others warrants ten days of confinement in Moon Forest. Considering Immortal Shen’s unfamiliarity with Gui Xu’s secret realm led to this misunderstanding, we could perhaps…”

“No need,” Shen Zheyou interrupted. “I committed an error and will accept my punishment.”

He bowed deeply to both of them: “Today’s incident was due to my oversight, offending Miss Sang Li and Your Excellency. My apologies.”

Shen Zheyou’s apology was sincere. He turned and left for the Moon Forest.

Situ glanced between Sang Li and Shen Zheyou, hesitated briefly, then chose to chase after her senior brother.

With this matter settled, the next order of business was to announce the list of selected disciples.

Out of over a thousand participants, more than half had been eliminated in the first round. Today, she had been fortunate enough to pass, but the competition seven days later would involve real weapons and genuine combat.

Compared to that, Sang Li was more curious whether Ji Hengyu had already discovered her true identity.

And…

Was what she had seen of him in the secret realm an illusion or reality?

Haunted by these thoughts, she had been restless for several days. With the day of the competition approaching and unsure if she could win, she decided not to let this matter continue disturbing her peace of mind. After dinner, she secretly slipped away to Shuo Guang Palace, intending to confront Ji Hengyu and get answers.

The cableway leading to Shuo Guang Palace was silent and long.

She peered down from the suspension bridge onto a vast, ink-black sea, with Gui Xu Palace floating atop it like an island.

Whether it was her imagination or not, Sang Li couldn’t shake the feeling that… tonight’s sea breeze was unusually turbulent.

Looking up, she noticed that the imposing presence of the four dragon pillars seemed stronger than usual. The chains coiled around them vibrated slightly, producing a low hum akin to the murmurs of the deep sea.

Her legs inexplicably weakened, and she felt a sudden urge to retreat.

But seeing that Shuo Guang Palace was now close at hand, she steeled herself and pressed on.

After descending from the cableway and crossing the covered bridge, she arrived at Shuo Guang Palace, where Ji Hengyu resided.

Though technically his private quarters, Shuo Guang Palace was located in a remote area, facing north and surrounded by lakes. The lakes were empty, reflecting the silvery-white palace.

Two lion statues stood guard at the entrance, their expressions fierce. After some hesitation, Sang Li addressed them: “I wish to see Lord Ji. Could you kindly announce my arrival?”

The lion’s eyes glared menacingly: “It is the fifteenth day, the night curfew. No disciples are allowed to leave their quarters. Please return.”

Night curfew?

Gui Xu had a night curfew?

Sang Li had never heard of this and pondered for a moment. “Is Lord Ji not inside?”

The guardian beast replied: “Lord Ji is awaiting his return.”

Awaiting his return.

So he was already out.

Sang Li didn’t inquire further and walked a short distance away, squatting silently by the lakeside to wait.

The round trip would take some time, but since she had already come all this way, she decided to patiently wait.

However, she couldn’t shake the restless feeling tugging at her heart, as if something were pulling her.

Her gaze darkened, and unconsciously, she rolled up her sleeve.

The scar there had formed a tender pink scab, indicating it was almost healed. The curse mark bloomed vibrantly, resembling a vivid mandala flower blossoming on her skin.

Would Ji Hengyu return?

**

On the fifteenth day of the month—the Day of Celestial Punishment—Ji Hengyu would drain nearly half of his blood to use the Demon-Sealing Stone to suppress the demons beneath the deep sea.

The Demon-Sealing Stone was located above Gui Xu Palace. As an object born of heavenly evil, even ordinary immortals with low cultivation levels could not approach it. The only one who could assist Ji Hengyu in guarding the ritual was his eldest disciple, Qi.

The celestial array leading to the Demon-Sealing Stone opened wide, revealing a long crimson staircase that led directly to its summit. Simultaneously, the protective barrier of Gui Xu Palace would deactivate, replaced by the Shielding Mountain Array—a formation capable of masking all spiritual energy.

This array served two purposes: first, to shield disciples from harm caused by karmic obstructions; second, to prevent outsiders from spying or approaching during Ji Hengyu’s demon-suppression ritual.

For the disciples of Gui Xu Palace, the Day of Celestial Punishment was perilous.

From the hour of You (5-7 PM), a curfew would be enforced, and even the masters of the Elder Pavilion were forbidden from leaving their quarters.

Drapped in a silver-white cloak, Ji Hengyu ascended step by step along the crimson staircase to reach the Demon-Sealing Stone.

“Stand back,” he said to Qi.

Qi retreated several steps while simultaneously setting up a protective barrier around them both to safeguard Ji Hengyu—and himself—from harm.

Before them stood the crimson Demon-Sealing Stone, shaped like a heart. In fact, it truly was a heart. When all laws returned to stillness, the body transformed into heaven and earth, and this heart was left behind in the abyss. Over time, any nearby demons were corrupted by it, and it became an object feared by all demons. However, having absorbed the demonic energy of heaven and earth, it turned into an evil artifact, untouchable by any except the Kui Clan.

This was six thousand years ago.

When the ancient chaos gods revived and all things perished, the remaining aura of the Demon-Sealing Stone was no longer enough to intimidate the chaos gods. To combat this, Ji Hengyu’s paternal clan made the ultimate sacrifice.

They were the Kui Clan, born from a drop of divine blood and destined to fight for all beings.

The paternal clan pulled the Pillar of Heaven from the four cardinal directions, using it to imprison the chaos gods beneath the sea of Gui Xu. Then, they ordered the gods of the heavens to bind their bodies to the Demon-Sealing Stone with Soul-Locking Chains, continuously channeling the blood of Fuxi to nourish the stone.

The sea of Gui Xu imprisoned countless demons—but hadn’t it also imprisoned the paternal clan?

For five hundred years, the four members of the paternal clan chained to the Pillar of Heaven fought until their strength was exhausted and they perished.

At the same time, Ji Hengyu was born.

At first, Ji Hengyu did not need to perform this ritual.

But as the chaos gods grew stronger, he had no choice but to follow in his ancestors’ footsteps, using his blood to sustain the Demon-Sealing Stone.

Only him—and only him.

At first, it was once every hundred years; then once every ten, five, and one year. Now, it had shortened to once a month.

Ji Hengyu slowly raised his hand, pressing his palm against the Demon-Sealing Stone.

In an instant, his consciousness roared with turbulence. Countless whispers traveled through the Soul-Locking Chains into his spiritual sea, relentlessly gnawing at his inner realms.

[You wretched child, how dare you still serve the divine realm? Why not release us and join forces to destroy this world!]

That was the voice of the chaos gods.

[Brother, save me… I’m dying, Brother… please, it hurts so much…]

That was his deceased younger sister.

[My child, I am buried in the Abyss Prison. You do not save your mother, yet you still serve our enemies?]

That was his mother, who had given her life bearing him.

[All laws shall perish! How can a mere heart control us!]

That was the chorus of myriad demons.

The voices grew more chaotic, louder, until they became countless sharp blades, slicing at the gates of his consciousness, attempting to violently invade his mind.

Ji Hengyu’s lips turned pale, and a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

His jaw clenched tightly, and his eyes suddenly turned deep red. Those blood-red pupils locked firmly onto the Demon-Sealing Stone, within which crimson mist swirled. Ji Hengyu exerted his strength, converting his blood into spiritual energy, channeling it ceaselessly into the stone.

The Soul-Locking Chains vibrated intensely. In an instant, the earth rumbled, lightning flashed, thunder roared, and the skies churned unpredictably—it was akin to hell.

[Ji Hengyu, don’t you understand yet—!]

The voices in his mind grew frenzied.

[With your power, you cannot overthrow the divine realm! Why do you persist?!]

[The Supreme Dao will not spare your life! Once they drain your last bit of value, your fate will be no different from ours! Rather than enduring ten thousand years in this abyss, why not join forces and release us!]

[Ji Hengyu! Ji Hengyu! Ji Hengyu! Ji Hengyu! Ji Hengyu!]

[Release us! Release us! You wretch, I’ll drink your blood alive and strip your bones while you’re living! Hahahaha!]

They shouted his name over and over, their curses entangling him, crushing him under unbearable pain that nearly shattered his dantian. Yet, Ji Hengyu did not relent.

Finally, the vibrations of the Soul-Locking Chains gradually subsided.

The crimson mist within the Demon-Sealing Stone dissipated, transforming into a translucent ruby-like stone.

Ji Hengyu withdrew his hand, clutching his chest as he spat out a pool of black blood.

“My Lord,” Qi hurriedly supported him. “Have the myriad demons grown this powerful?”

This was the most severe injury Ji Hengyu had ever sustained.

He closed his eyes briefly, his gaze lightly brushing over the silk-wrapped wrist. His voice was faint: “Qi, do you know why the divine realm fears me yet keeps me alive?”

“I do not know.”

“They want my bloodline—to repeat what they did to my paternal clan, to my mother.” Ji Hengyu’s lips curled into a smile, his crimson eyes reflecting in the mist like flickering flames in a deep pool.

“Do you think I will let them have their way?”

His paternal clan had sacrificed themselves for all beings.

Yet, those high-and-mighty supreme gods showed no gratitude. They looked down upon their lowliness while coveting the last remnants of their value.

If his father knew that when he chose to die for the six realms, his wife and child were imprisoned in the lightless Abyss Prison, suffering daily torment—would he still have made the same choice?

Ji Hengyu was not his father. He did not understand his father, nor was he destined to become him.

Since the Supreme Dao wanted him to marry the so-called goddess, he would give them an answer they desired.

“Let’s return.”

Ji Hengyu tightened his cloak and turned back into the night.

His spine remained unbowed, unbreakable—but his solitary figure exuded profound loneliness.