AUOF - 36

The Dragon Mountain Illusion Forest Map had only three main paths.

These three paths led directly to the sole exit, meaning that no matter which route they chose, they would inevitably meet in the end and determine a victor.

With the earlier incident as a cautionary tale, Sang Li didn’t dare to be careless.

She retrieved the Xuan Mian Bone-Dissolving Blade gifted to her by Situ from the treasure case.

The blade was crescent-shaped, no larger than the palm of her hand.

Its craftsmanship was exquisitely delicate—it could transform into a dart when retracted, a blade when extended, and scatter into ten smaller dagger-like petals resembling flying flowers when fully unleashed. Each petal was razor-sharp.

Sang Li tested the weapon by launching the blades.

As the daggers left her hand, each one split into ten smaller blades, spinning through the air like silver-white flower petals, truly radiant and dazzling.

—The goddess had truly given her something extraordinary.

After stowing away her weapon, Sang Li chose the middle path.

Within this dreamlike scroll, every tree and blade of grass was an illusion designed to trap intruders.

She first killed a few minor demons to practice, gaining confidence before venturing deeper into the more dangerous parts of the forest.

Sang Li lacked Han Mang’s experience.

Fortunately, she was clever enough to use her surroundings to her advantage, setting traps to lure enemies in and then striking them down with precision from behind.

On the other hand, Han Mang engaged in fierce and thrilling battles, his performance exhilarating for the spectators.

After about half an hour, Sang Li trailed slightly behind Han Mang.

The audience wasn’t impressed, dismissing her tactics as underhanded tricks unworthy of admiration.

“The girl relies on petty cleverness; it’s not worth mentioning.”

“Compared to her, Han Mang is clearly at a disadvantage.”

“Has Gui Xu become so desperate for personnel that they’re now sending maids to compete?”

“Heaven-Balancing Lord Ji Hengyu is no longer the man he once was. Gui Xu is finished.”

One feature of the Tongtian Mirror was particularly popular among immortals:

When its multi-directional broadcast was activated, various immortals could post their personal comments on the mirror, and all content would be synchronized across other mirrors.

This competition gained significant attention, drawing viewers from the divine realm to the twelve palaces of the nine spirits. As discussions unfolded, Ji Hengyu himself became entangled in the conversation.

[Originally, Ji Hengyu was nothing but a useless fool. If it weren’t for Wan Fa’s drop of blood, he’d be nothing.]

[Who are you? Have the guts to say that to his face?]

[If it weren’t for Gui Xu guarding the boundary between heaven and the void, your twelve palaces would’ve been devoured by demons long ago. You ungrateful dogs owe everything to Heaven-Balancing Lord.]

[Luckily, Heaven-Balancing Lord doesn’t use the Tongtian Mirror . In the past, with his narrow-minded temperament, upon seeing these comments, he would’ve burned your entire sect to ashes without hesitation.]

[What nonsense. That useless guy burning our mountain? Laughable.]

[This little maid looks quite charming. I want to capture her as a furnace vessel—I happen to need one.]

[Is that you, Brother? A good thing should be shared, of course, after you’re done with her, I’ll take my turn.]

The courtyard was silent.

Ji Hengyu let the Tongtian Mirror hover in midair, closing his eyes to focus on cultivating his spirit while occasionally glancing at the competition. The words in the mirror meant nothing to him, but he paused in thought upon reading the last two comments.

His jade fan swayed lazily.

In the upper heavens, there were twelve proper immortal sects and a few less reputable ones. Among them, Ying Huan Sect was notorious—one might even call it a stain on the upper heavens.

Their practices weren’t aligned with orthodox cultivation methods.

With barely a hundred members, they specialized in capturing young boys and girls for cultivation or deceiving unsuspecting immortals into becoming furnace vessels. Many newly ascended wandering immortals met tragic ends before even experiencing the joys of immortality.

Most immortals were proud and disdainful of them, knowing full well that this minor sect wouldn’t dare overstep their bounds. Even though Ying Huan Sect committed despicable acts, others merely condemned them verbally and distanced themselves.

Leaning back in his vine chair, Ji Hengyu’s expression remained indifferent.

“Ji Wu, come out.”

Ji Wu appeared before him, clad in red.

Ji Hengyu lazily pointed his fan at the Tongtian Mirror : “Eradicate them.”

Ji Wu blinked, glanced at the mirror, and immediately understood. His master was standing up for the little fox spirit.

He had been itching for action, so he happily prepared to leave. Just then, a wisp of black mist slowly coiled around Ji Hengyu’s neck: “Wait.”

Ji Wu raised an eyebrow: “You want to go too? But this is a trivial matter—I can handle it alone.”

Ying Huan Sect was nothing but a gathering of useless fools. A single wave of underworld fire would suffice; no need for excessive effort.

“It’s too conspicuous during broad daylight. If the divine realm finds out, it might cause trouble,” Ji Xun suggested. “Why not wait until night? We can always find an excuse if questioned.”

The comments on the Tongtian Mirror grew increasingly chaotic.

Ji Hengyu found the barrage of text tiresome and closed his eyes, choosing not to look. “It doesn’t matter,” he said lazily. “I’m eradicating a scourge from the upper heavens—they should thank me. If punished, it’ll just be a few lashes as a warning. Go.”

Ji Hengyu showed signs of irritation. “A bunch of nuisances, truly bothersome.”

It was evident that he genuinely despised them.

Ji Wu didn’t linger further, transforming into a wisp of mist and heading straight for Ying Huan Sect.

While they conversed, the Tongtian Mirror ‘s discussion had escalated into widespread condemnation of Ying Huan Sect, with some fanning the flames and adding fuel to the fire. As for the competition itself, it seemed to have faded into the background.

[Where are those brats? Why aren’t they spouting more nonsense?]

Strangely, Ying Huan Sect didn’t continue their provocations.

[They must be scared. Why doesn’t the heavens strike them down with thunderbolts?]

[!!!! I’m a small cloud immortal from the same mountain as Ying Huan Sect. Several waves of heavenly fire descended and completely burned Ying Huan Sect to the ground! I witnessed it firsthand—it’s absolutely true!!!!]

[!!!!!! Finally, the heavens have opened their eyes!!!!!!]

[Burning Ying Huan Sect makes me happy, but could the heavens be more careful next time? Sparks flew straight into my cave and destroyed all my freshly dried herbs. My heart aches.]

[Same here… Angry but too afraid to speak. Besides, that fire didn’t look like heavenly fire—it resembled underworld demonic flames.]

[Panic. Could it really be Heaven-Balancing Lord who set it?]

[Who cares who did it—Ying Huan Sect deserves misfortune, and I’m happy. Burn it bigger! If it’s not enough, I’ll fan the flames!]

Ji Hengyu’s lips curled slightly, pleased.

Ji Wu returned swiftly, his face glowing red—he had evidently consumed many souls.

Ji Hengyu waved his fan: “Done?”

Ji Wu nodded: “A wave of underworld fire wiped out Ying Huan Sect. Some stragglers might have escaped outside, but I’ll hunt them down one by one later.”

“Hmm.” Ji Hengyu didn’t pay much attention. To him, annihilating a minor sect was as insignificant as squashing an ant. “Were there any wandering immortals inside?”

Ji Wu: “There were a few young cloud immortals and children captured—they’ve been released to leave on their own.”

Hearing this, Ji Hengyu didn’t inquire further.

Perhaps the news of Ying Huan Sect’s destruction shocked the other immortal sects, or perhaps they suspected Ji Hengyu’s involvement. For a time, the atmosphere on the Tongtian Mirror became harmonious, with everyone exchanging brotherly greetings. No one dared to utter a single bad word about Gui Xu.

Comfortable.

Ji Hengyu intended to watch Sang Li’s performance, but the screen was now obscured by a dense mass of floating text. Some characters drifted aimlessly, making it nearly impossible to view properly.

“How do you turn this off? All this clutter is irritating.”

Ji Wu’s brows furrowed, then relaxed, then furrowed again. His mind was as empty as his current expression.

“Useless.” Ji Hengyu turned to Ji Xun. “Do you know how?”

The consciousness sea was silent—the fellow simply feigned sleep.

Ji Hengyu fell silent.

Two utterly useless things.