AUOF - 45

The excitement eventually came to an end.

The townsfolk jostled one another as they returned to their respective homes.

In the crowd, collisions were inevitable. Distracted while chasing after Situ, Sang Li accidentally bumped into someone.

“How do you walk? Are you blind?!”

Her apology, which was about to leave her lips, froze at the sharp rebuke.

“Chunling, don’t be rude.”

Another voice interjected.

Unlike the maid’s shrill and overbearing tone, this voice was soft, flowing like a gentle spring stream.

Sang Li couldn’t help but glance over.

The woman wore a purple mist-like gown, draped in a satin cloak, with half her face hidden behind a veil. Only her shimmering eyes were visible.

Sang Li felt a faint sense of familiarity as she looked at her.

The maid stood protectively in front of the woman, persistently pressing, “What are you standing there for? Aren’t you going to apologize?”

“Sang Li, why aren’t you moving?”

Seeing Situ turn back, Sang Li knew her fiery temperament would likely lead to a confrontation.

“It was my fault. Please forgive me, Miss,” Sang Li bowed her head in apology, then quickly sidestepped the two and walked over to Situ.

“I heard those two yelling earlier. Did they bully you?” Situ linked arms with her, clearly ready to pick a fight if Sang Li nodded.

Sang Li smiled and shook her head. “No, it was just a misunderstanding.”

“Oh,” Situ said. “If anyone bullies you, tell me. This is the mortal realm—there aren’t so many rules here. You don’t have to put up with unnecessary grievances.”

Sang Li repeatedly agreed, and soon the two disappeared into the bustling crowd.

Chunling supported Cui Wanning, visibly displeased. “Mortals are so ignorant. It’s only because Lady is kind-hearted. If our Lord had been here...”

“Chunling,” Cui Wanning warned with a sidelong glance. “This is the mortal world.”

Chunling’s eyes darted around, and she slapped her cheeks twice. “Yes, yes, yes, it’s my fault for speaking out of turn. Let’s hurry back, Miss. Your health isn’t good, and we mustn’t let you catch a chill.”

Cui Wanning cast one last long look in the direction where the two had disappeared before turning and walking down another path.

The gentle smile on her lips faded, replaced by cold, calculating eyes that were far from harmless.

________________________________________

Thanks to Situ’s generosity, Sang Li didn’t have to sleep outdoors on her first night out of the mountains.

Situ booked the finest suite in Cloud Heaven City for them. After days of travel, she was exhausted and promptly locked the door, washed up, and went to bed.

The moon climbed high above the treetops.

The once-bustling city finally fell silent.

Sang Li lay on her side, sleeping soundly without a care in the world.

In her deep slumber, she was completely unaware of the faint creaking coming from the window.

A small, purplish-black snake, no thicker than a chopstick, slowly slithered through the gap.

Its forked tongue flicked out, trailing wisps of blackened smoke as it moved.

---This was a venomous snake.

Its dark, gleaming eyes locked onto the figure on the bed.

It glided across the table, climbed along the bed curtains, and gradually approached her neck.

Just inches away from her artery, the snake eagerly bared its fangs, ready to strike. Suddenly, a hand clamped down on its vital point, effortlessly lifting it into the air.

The snake writhed and struggled in that grip, occasionally emitting sharp hisses.

Ji Hengyu examined the snake closely, his eyelashes fluttering slightly as he chuckled softly. “An insect-snake soaked in hundreds of poisons—it seems someone has gone to great lengths.”

The insect-snake was one of the most resilient young snakes found in the eight desolate seas.

Many poison masters deliberately captured these snakes and sealed them in jars with venomous insects and plants for a hundred years of cultivation.

Typically, only one venomous snake could survive in a single jar. Once fully matured, the snake would fetch a hefty price. Whether against immortals or demons, its bite was deadly. Hence, it was also known as the “One-Bite Death.”

Ji Hengyu casually coiled the snake around his fingertip, his gaze leisurely shifting to Sang Li.

She showed no signs of waking, her sleeping face peaceful and sweet, even exuding an innocent charm.

---How could she sleep so deeply?

Ji Hengyu leaned closer.

A faint fragrance wafted from her—not the artificial scent of incense or floral perfume, but rather something that seemed to emanate naturally from her skin.

It wasn’t overpowering, lingering softly around her, yet inexplicably inviting curiosity.

Ji Hengyu drew nearer and nearer. By the time he realized it, his face was almost buried in the crook of her neck, his nose mere millimeters from her skin.

Ji Hengyu’s spine stiffened, and he instinctively tightened his grip, causing the snake to writhe even more violently in his palm.

He hastily straightened up, about to leave, when he heard Sang Li mutter in her sleep—

“Ji Hengyu… don’t… don’t lick me.”

Ji Hengyu: “???”

“It tickles…”

Her voice sounded like a dreamy murmur, tinged with an ambiguous hint of both crying and moaning.

Ji Hengyu’s sharp ears picked up the rapid acceleration of her heartbeat.

Then, Sang Li rolled over, pulling at the front of her clothing.

There was nothing beneath, and as the fabric shifted, an unexpected expanse of pale skin came into view.

Ji Hengyu’s breath caught, and his chest grew hot.

“No…”

Not only had she loosened her clothes, but her hands were now…

Ji Hengyu’s gaze followed her fingertips as they moved unconsciously, performing some self-indulgent motion. His expression abruptly changed.

What on earth… was she dreaming about?

With a fingertip, Ji Hengyu touched her brow, closing his eyes to peer into her dream.

It was a vast, endless snowstorm—a clear indication that today’s snowfall had left a deep impression on her.

Then, passing through a bamboo grove, Ji Hengyu saw… himself?

To be precise, it was himself in the form of a giant serpent.

His massive, silvery-white body stretched freely across the snowy ground, its tail tightly coiled around the soft, water-like figure of a woman.

The silver and white intertwined amidst the snow-covered bamboo forest, creating an indescribably enchanting and decadent scene.

Ji Hengyu was nearly stunned.

Rarely did anything move him, yet every frame of this dream was enough to make him want to flee.

Yet his feet felt rooted to the spot, unable to move.

“Why aren’t your horns blooming anymore? Last time, they still sprouted flowers to tease me,” Sang Li’s voice was unusually sweet and tender. She cradled the enormous serpent’s head, affectionately nuzzling and even kissing its lips, her entire being filled with adoration for it.

Ji Hengyu’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his hand unconsciously tightened again.

The giant serpent was surprisingly obedient, and its dual horns actually began to sprout peach blossoms at her request.

The tender pink flowers adorned the silvery-white surface, adding an unexpectedly endearing touch to the massive creature.

“Your horns… are the most beautiful.”

Sang Li caressed them affectionately and leaned in to kiss them.

Ji Hengyu stared blankly, his emotions swirling, suddenly unable to snap out of it.

[Do you really think having dragon horns will make you a dragon? Stop dreaming in broad daylight!!]

[Ji Hengyu! You filthy, despicable wretch, return to the deep sea! You don’t deserve to ascend to the divine realm!]

[If I had known the one who saved me was that disgusting mud snake, I’d rather have died in the ocean. The sight of him makes me want to vomit.]

Everyone called him disgusting.

Whether he had saved them or not, even he himself had loathed this body for five thousand years, resenting the revered laws of the universe that had cursed him.

If not for that single drop of blood, he wouldn’t have had to endure all this; without it, he could have lived like his ancestors—generation after generation hidden deep in the ocean as a humble sea snake feeding on mud. Even if despised and reviled, he wouldn’t be struggling to survive amid slander and ridicule as he did now.

But...

She didn’t find him disgusting.

In her waking moments, she had done forbidden things with such a filthy version of himself; even in her dreams, she wanted to kiss its horns.

Perhaps she didn’t know.

Those horns were formed from the two whiskers of Wanfa, the most detested part of Ji Hengyu’s entire being.

Suddenly, Sang Li revealed her nine fox tails and a pair of ears.

The tails intertwined, making the scene appear even more decadent.

As if noticing something, Sang Li turned her head and looked directly at him.

Before Ji Hengyu could fully detach himself from the dream, he unexpectedly locked eyes with her gaze.

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes smoky and seductive, feigning shyness as she said, “You... join me too.”

Ji Hengyu: “...?”

Ji Hengyu: “...”

His pupils contracted, and he was immediately startled by her words.

He swiftly broke free from the dream and fled in panic.

With a sudden jolt, Ji Hengyu opened his eyes. Thinking back to the expression and demeanor on Sang Li’s face when she last spoke, his throat went dry, and his breathing instantly became erratic. He closed his eyes to steady his breath, taking a long while to regain composure.

When he opened his eyes again, Ji Hengyu picked up the insect-snake.

He leaned closer to sniff it and, as expected, detected an unusual aphrodisiac scent. No wonder Sang Li had such a dream—it was the venomous gas emitted by the snake that had clouded her mind.

Ji Hengyu wrapped the snake around his little finger once more and extended his hand, preparing to erase the memory of their illicit encounter from her mind.

The spiritual energy slowly spread from his palm, almost penetrating her consciousness, but he abruptly withdrew his hand.

Ji Hengyu pressed his lips tightly together, ultimately doing nothing. With the snake in tow, he turned and left.

“Qi.”

Back in the guest room, Ji Hengyu summoned Qi to appear.

“Lord Ji.”

He sat in a chair, toying with the still lively venomous snake.

It coiled around his fingers, but no matter how much it struggled, it couldn’t escape his control.

Without looking up, Ji Hengyu commanded, “Investigate this inn. See if there are any suspicious individuals.”

“Yes.”

Qi exited through the window.

A crescent moon was perfectly framed by the window lattice.

Gazing at the icy glow of the moon, Ji Hengyu couldn’t help but recall the entangled scene from his shared dream with Sang Li.

How absurd!

He picked up the teacup and gulped down several mouthfuls of cold tea, yet it failed to quell the rising heat within him.

Ji Hengyu felt inexplicably agitated.

For thousands of years since ascending to immortality, aside from the time his celestial marrow was shattered, he had never felt so weighed down by gloom and unease as he did today.

Unable to bear it any longer, Ji Hengyu extended his finger and allowed the insect-snake to bite him.

His true form was akin to the ancestor of all serpents.

This tiny dose of venom would only cause him temporary pain, enough to clear his mind without inflicting significant harm.

The toxin acted quickly.

Pain gradually spread from his fingertip, but instead of clarity, his mind began to wander... producing thoughts he had never entertained before.

While enduring the torment of the poison, Ji Hengyu let his mind wander aimlessly—

Why did Sang Li dream of him and not some other man?

He had assumed that after spending years by Yanjing Tower’s side, coupled with her unique identity, she must have been surrounded by admirers and distractions. Even in her dreams, she shouldn’t have settled for an ugly, filthy snake.

And yet...

She had dreamed only of him.

Could it be... that in her heart, he was special?

At the thought of this possibility, Ji Hengyu’s consciousness buzzed heavily.

Even without a heart, he could feel the vibrations echoing in his chest.

At the same time, far away in Gui Xu Palace, where Ji Xun was handling Ji Hengyu’s accumulated duties, his heart began to race uncontrollably.

Ji Xun placed a hand over his chest, his lashes trembling slightly, confusion flickering in his eyes. [Master?]

He attempted to communicate with Ji Hengyu through their shared consciousness.

[Are you in danger?]

After a long pause, Ji Hengyu finally replied, [It’s nothing.] His tone was cold. [You’re busy. Don’t concern yourself with me.]

Confusion flashed in Ji Xun’s eyes, but he truly was swamped with work.

Before Ji Hengyu’s departure, countless scrolls had piled up. Even working through the night, it would take over ten days to finish them all.

He pushed aside his unease, ignoring the restlessness in his heart, and focused on his tasks.

Ji Hengyu took a deep breath, still unable to comprehend why this troubled him so deeply.

It was just an unclear dream born from someone else’s unconscious mind, yet he had taken it so seriously, obsessing over it.

Ji Hengyu brought his fingertip to the snake’s mouth again, allowing it to bite him a second time.

The pain intensified, and Ji Hengyu felt slightly dazed.

He had used this very body to pleasure her—so why did she dream specifically of the snake?

Could it be that she truly liked his original form?

The more Ji Hengyu thought about it, the more restless he became. For the third time, he offered his fingertip to the snake.

But the insect-snake coiled around his finger remained motionless, its body stiff and blackened. It had clearly succumbed to the Fuxi blood, poisoned to death in reverse.

“...” Ji Hengyu paused in silence, then muttered, “Useless thing.”