AUOF - 31

The night dew was heavy with cold.

Even though he had been carried in a sedan for part of the journey back to Gui Xu, his body still betrayed him with bouts of coughing. Afterward, he leaned weakly against the sedan, his posture lax, as if he might shatter at any moment.

Qi, who followed behind, wore a worried expression: “My Lord, are you alright?”

“No issue,” Ji Hengyu replied indifferently, brushing off his disciple’s concern with a dismissive tone.

The side effects of the Silken Worm Gu were accelerating the accumulation of karmic afflictions within him, and the combined strain on his body was becoming unbearable. But after taking his medicine and enduring this period of adjustment, he would recover—temporarily.

Ji Hengyu didn’t care much about his deteriorating condition; he had at most two years left to live anyway. If he could endure, he would.

However, the throbbing ache at his temples was relentless, and the Silken Worm Gu continuously whispered Sang Li’s name into his mind, fueling his irritation and sharpening the malevolence in his gaze.

Suddenly, Qi spoke up: “My Lord, isn’t that the girl from the selection day?”

Ji Hengyu glanced lazily in the direction Qi indicated.

Sang Li hadn’t noticed them yet. She stood with her back to the sedan, her pale blue figure resembling a solitary orchid blooming in the dark night—elegant, radiant, and strikingly vivid as it caught his eye.

A flicker of emotion passed through Ji Hengyu’s eyes.

For a fleeting moment, his heart stirred, and even the torment brought on by his karmic afflictions seemed to ease.

She hadn’t noticed the sedan yet and was idly crouched by the lake, absently plucking at a wild herb.

Unconsciously, Ji Hengyu watched her for a long while until his throat began to itch, triggering another urge to cough.

Swallowing hard, he suppressed the cough, tearing his gaze away and softly instructing Qi: “Escort her back.”

Qi hesitated. “It seems she came looking for you, My Lord. Won’t you see her?”

Ji Hengyu closed his eyes briefly before replying coldly: “A mere maid holds no interest for me.”

With that, he stepped out of the sedan and slipped into Shuo Guang Hall.

Qi, intending to approach Sang Li, paused to consider that his appearance might frighten her. He donned a mask before stepping forward deliberately, making sure his footsteps echoed loudly enough to draw her attention. As expected, the sound made her turn around.

Qi stood nearly two meters tall, towering like a small mountain.

His sudden appearance startled Sang Li considerably, especially when she saw the eerie crimson ghost mask covering his face. The gleaming eyes beneath the mask only heightened her wariness, prompting her to take two cautious steps back.

Noticing her retreat, Qi stopped abruptly and bowed respectfully with clasped hands. “I am Qi. Today is the Day of Retribution, so I cannot move freely. My Lord has instructed me to escort you back.”

Qi.

The eldest disciple of Ji Hengyu.

Though Sang Li wasn’t well-versed in the original work’s details due to not having read it herself, she recognized that as one of Ji Hengyu’s disciples, Qi posed no threat to her. This realization put her somewhat at ease.

“And My Lord?” she asked.

“My Lord is unavailable to receive visitors. Please return,” Qi replied firmly.

“Oh.” Sang Li cast a lingering glance at the stone lions guarding the entrance before asking hopefully, “Can I just say a few words to him? Surely there’s no harm in that?”

Qi shook his head.

Realizing there was no chance of seeing Ji Hengyu, Sang Li slumped her shoulders dejectedly and trudged away, her head hanging low.

After escorting her back to Huan Sha Garden, Qi returned to report to Ji Hengyu.

Beneath Shuo Guang Hall lay a dungeon. This dungeon did not hold prisoners—it held Ji Hengyu himself.

Whenever his karmic afflictions flared up, he would lose all rationality and struggle to control his primal instincts.

If he were to reveal his true form, it would endanger innocent lives.

During these episodes, Ji Hengyu would order Qi to lock him away.

Most of the time, he could maintain control over himself—but never had he needed to enter the dungeon so soon.

Qi was deeply troubled. He feared that Ji Hengyu’s body wouldn’t withstand the ever-intensifying karmic afflictions, that the demon god sealed beneath Yuan Lao might one day break free, and that the gods of Shen Yu would eventually decide to end his life.

With wolves circling on all sides, how could he hope to survive unscathed?

“My Lord... Is there truly no other way?”

By now, Ji Hengyu had shed his outer garments, leaving only a pair of white undergarments. His chest was broad and muscular, his shoulders wide and waist narrow, and even the lines of his spine exuded strength. Yet his skin was unnaturally iridescent, with crimson veins wriggling beneath the surface like centipedes.

His once-black hair was gradually turning white. Silent and unmoving, Ji Hengyu lay stretched out on the bed of thousand-year-old black ice, his expressionless gaze fixed on the ceiling. “What difference would it make?” he murmured. “It’s merely another dead end.”

From the moment of his birth, his fate had been sealed.

That single drop of blood Wan Fa had left embedded in their hearts had imprisoned him—confined to Yuan Lao, confined to Gui Xu, confined to this cursed body.

Closing his eyes, Ji Hengyu couldn’t help but recall those two days in Wan Shui Jun Du.

How ironic—it was during those brief moments with Sang Li that he had experienced the most carefree days of his five-thousand-year existence.

A faint trace of joy flickered across his features, but it was quickly consumed by an overwhelming tide of anguish.

Soon, the crimson veins spread across his entire body, and the karmic afflictions swiftly devoured his sanity.

Amidst the clinking of chains, a horrifying roar echoed throughout the dungeon.

Unable to bear the sight, Qi turned and walked out of the dungeon without looking back. The sealing array he activated behind him silenced all sounds from within.

The karmic afflictions raged on.

Simultaneously, the poison of the Gu intensified the torment. Under this dual assault, Ji Hengyu quickly lost his rationality, shedding his human form. His massive body writhed and thrashed within the confines of the dungeon.

Array symbols covered every wall of the dungeon.

Whenever Ji Hengyu attempted to break free, the arrays would retaliate, forcing him to regain a sliver of lucidity temporarily.

Evil souls could help mitigate some of the karmic afflictions, but as the venom of love grew stronger, they too began to succumb to its influence.

The three souls shared the agony equally.

Finally, Ji Wu could no longer endure it: [Damn it! I’ll go kidnap that wild fox spirit and make her sleep with you. At least then we won’t have to suffer together anymore.]

[Don’t go, absolutely not.]

Both Ji Xun and Ji Hengyu spoke at the same time.

Ji Hengyu managed to regain a sliver of consciousness. His serpent tail trailed behind him while his upper body continuously shifted between beast and human form.

His breathing was labored, his entire body covered in wounds, without a single intact spot.

This was the most wretched state he had been in since the day his immortal core shattered.

“No… don’t go,” Ji Hengyu ground out through clenched teeth, “I’m like this… she won’t survive, she’ll die.”

He raised his hand and rang the Mi Yin Bell .

When this bell sounded, his three disciples outside would know he had lost control and, to avoid collateral damage, would evacuate all the sect members.

Ji Hengyu’s long hair was disheveled, and a pained groan escaped his throat.

“At most… two days.” His lips were blood-red, but his face was deathly pale. “Trust me, two days.”

Just endure for two days.

In two days, he would recover. There was no need for such measures, no need to involve a woman to save him. He found it disdainful, unnecessary, and utterly repugnant to even consider such a solution.

Ji Wu was growing impatient: [If your spirit collapses, the karmic afflictions will consume both me and Ji Xun. Do you really want us to suffer alongside you?] Without waiting for a response, he declared recklessly, [You’re mad, but I’m not! I’m going to bring her here now!]

With that, Ji Wu bolted outside.

Ji Xun was frantic, but he didn’t dare follow impulsively. Ji Hengyu was already teetering on the edge of losing control; if Ji Xun didn’t help suppress the karmic afflictions, the consequences would be catastrophic.

________________________________________

Meanwhile, inside Bi Dian.

Today was the Selection Contest, and the announcement board displayed the names of all the Demon Subduers. Each participant had to choose one to defeat and replace. Sang Li scanned the list from left to right, finally settling her gaze on Han Mang.

That day, he had looked down on her with prejudice.

The best way to break that prejudice was to defeat him!

Sang Li made up her mind, just as she plucked the nameplate, Yue Zhuqing and Li Ningxi arrived, their expressions grave, as though burdened by some pressing issue.

“Everyone, please gather in the front square.”

The crowd exchanged puzzled glances. Though unclear about the situation, everyone followed the directive and rushed toward the square.

The square was packed with people—all the disciples participating in the contest.

“Please hear me out,” Yue Zhuqing announced. “There has been an attack by demonic creatures in Gui Xu. To ensure the safety of our disciples, after deliberation, we have unanimously decided to postpone the contest and temporarily relocate all disciples to Huan Lang Peak.”

More shocking than the postponement of the contest was the order to leave Gui Xu Palace.

“If there truly are demonic creatures attacking, we must rise to the occasion!”

“Yes! We will unite against the threat and refuse to be cowards!”

Most of those who dared enter Gui Xu were fearless and bold individuals. The mere mention of “demonic creatures” wouldn’t make them flinch.

Voices of agreement echoed around, but Yue Zhuqing’s frown deepened, her expression growing increasingly somber.

Sang Li stood among the crowd, observing Yue Zhuqing’s demeanor. She couldn’t shake the feeling that this was merely an excuse to delay the event.

First of all, Gui Xu was protected by layers of sealing arrays—how could demonic creatures possibly invade? Even if they did, Yue Zhuqing alone would be more than capable of exterminating them. Why go to such lengths to evacuate everyone?

Unless…

The calamity wasn’t caused by so-called demonic creatures but by… Ji Hengyu?

The moment that name surfaced in her mind, Sang Li froze.

She hadn’t seen Ji Hengyu for days. Recalling their bizarre encounter that night, his crimson eyes, white hair, and the scarlet patterns covering his body—she had only felt fear at the time. But now, reflecting on it, that must have been an episode of his karmic affliction.

Could this sudden evacuation of the sect members be related to another flare-up of his karmic affliction?

And what about the Silken Worm Gu —was it affecting him further?

The more she thought about it, the more anxious she became. Unable to resist, she slipped out of the crowd, intending to sneak a peek.

But just as she stepped out of the square, a wisp of red mist materialized out of thin air.

The red mist was intangible yet coiled around her body like a snake. Before Sang Li could scream, she was whisked away to another location in the blink of an eye.

The red mist roughly dumped her onto the ground.

Fortunately, the surface was soft, so the fall wasn’t too painful.

She propped herself up with her hands, looking around. Everything was pitch black except for the silvery-white floor beneath her—it was impossible to see anything else.

Could she have been mistaken? Was it not Ji Hengyu but an actual demonic creature?

At this point, Sang Li was far from calm. Her teeth chattered, and she struggled to stand several times without success.

The floor beneath her palms felt like shifting sand. She glanced down and realized it wasn’t sand at all—it was covered in silver-white scales, hard as black armor and cold as ice. Each scale shimmered with a chilling gleam.

This wasn’t a floor at all—it was… a snake?

A SNAKE!!!

All color drained from her face.

Before she could recover from her terror, a rush of icy breath suddenly brushed against the back of her neck. The sensation was as frigid as winter frost, lingering behind her without dissipating, instantly raising goosebumps all over her body.

At the same time, Sang Li heard a familiar sound—the hissing of a cold-blooded creature flicking its tongue.

Hiss… hiss… hiss.

Each sound grew heavier, each closer than the last.

Her pupils quivered, and her back stiffened as she remained frozen in place. At that moment, she distinctly felt something… pressing against her.