AUOF - 54

A faint glimmer of light seeped through the horizon as Sang Li and Cui Wanning were escorted to the city tower.

Futian Hou ordered them tightly bound, one on each side of him.

The morning mist began to dissipate.

Below the city walls, Futian Hou’s troops stood in dense formation, their numbers stretching endlessly into the distance. Even the skies above were filled with tension, the air heavy with anticipation.

Cui Wanning had not slept all night and now looked utterly exhausted.

Her body was no match for these immortals and demons; she had always been frail, her constitution naturally cool and delicate. Now, her face was pale, and standing beside towering men, she appeared as fragile as a sheet of paper.

Sang Li, on the other hand, seemed much more spirited.

Aside from a few specks of dust on her clothes, her complexion remained smooth and radiant, her eyes gleaming brightly, almost sparkling. She appeared cheerful, her mood seemingly unaffected.

She stood tall and straight, the morning glow resting lightly on her shoulders like a gossamer veil. Rather than resembling a captive, she looked more like an immortal about to ascend into the skies, drawing envious gazes from many of the demons below. They couldn’t help but admire Yen Jinglou’s good fortune.

The desolate city was silent, everyone staring intently in one direction.

Finally, the city gates burst open, and a crimson three-headed wolf came into view.

Its rider wore a long robe of dark green adorned with python patterns, his head crowned with a jade serpent headdress. Alone, he advanced slowly, his presence commanding.

“Master, Yen Jinglou has arrived.”

Behind him lay the empty expanse of the city gate.

A flicker of something strange crossed Futian Hou’s eyes as he laughed: “Yen Jinglou, you truly have the guts to come alone.”

Yen Jinglou tilted his head upward, looking at the wall: “For you, there’s no need for grand displays.”

His tone carried an air of nonchalant disdain.

Fury surged within Futian Hou: “That day in the prison, you killed my elder brother and left me to be captured, enduring a hundred years of torture in the Abyssal Sea! I will settle this score with you—clearly!!”

Futian Hou had no patience for further words with Yen Jinglou. With a jerk, he yanked the sleeves of both women, dragging them forcefully onto the city wall.

The narrow ledge beneath their feet was barely wide enough for a shoe, the height dizzying. If they lost their balance, falling would mean certain death.

Cui Wanning’s lips were bloodless, her face pale with terror as she stared down at Yen Jinglou below.

“I’ve heard that among these two, one is the lover you spent a thousand years searching for,” Futian Hou shouted loudly. “I don’t know who she is, but unlike you, I’m not heartless. You may choose one to spare, and the other…” His voice turned icy. “Will be sacrificed to honor my brother!”

The wind picked up.

A fierce gust swept through, scattering the remaining mist.

The wutong trees rustled mournfully, the slanted sunlight casting a cold glow over the withered grass.

The top of the city wall was a scene of ruin and desolation.

Yen Jinglou lifted his long lashes.

His gaze first fell on Cui Wanning. Her body trembled slightly in the cold wind, a tear lingering at the corner of her eye. Her expression held a trace of quiet pleading directed at him.

Yen Jinglou’s heart stirred faintly, but his gaze instinctively shifted to Sang Li.

Compared to Cui Wanning, who was overcome with fear, Sang Li appeared almost detached. She stood tall and upright, swaying with the wind like a crane.

Yen Jinglou withdrew his gaze. “On what grounds should I trust you?”

“You don’t have to!” Futian Hou extended his hand, the ring on his thumb transforming into a two-headed venomous snake. The snake coiled around both women, its fangs poised at their throats.

“Let’s see—will you act faster, or will my snake bite faster?!”

The snake’s tongue hovered just an inch from their skin.

Cui Wanning, who was terrified of snakes, could not hold back her tears.

Out of the corner of her eye, Sang Li glanced at the snake.

Thin, black, and with tiny horns atop its head, it bore a striking resemblance to Ji Hengyu’s darker-skinned form.

Thinking of Ji Hengyu, her eyes lit up, and she whispered softly to the snake: “Hello there, little snake~”

The venomous snake tilted its head in confusion.

She smiled, turning her head slightly. That smile landed directly in Yen Jinglou’s line of sight.

In an instant, his expression grew inscrutable.

“I’ll count to three—if you don’t choose, neither of them will live!”

“One—”

“Two—”

In that fleeting moment, memories of his childhood flooded Yen Jinglou’s mind.

He was born in a coffin.

The villagers used to say he survived by feeding on his mother’s flesh and blood.

The day his mother was buried was also the day he was born.

He didn’t originally bear the surname “Yan.” Jinglou was the nickname his mother gave him. But because his father despised him, he branded him with the name “Yan,” expressing his disdain for this supposed curse.

From a young age, Yen Jinglou displayed traits that set him apart from others.

Smart, peculiar, and endowed with extraordinary strength, these qualities only made the villagers avoid him even more.

At the age of six, unable to withstand the rumors, his father attempted to drown him in the river with a hemp rope. He escaped and began a life of wandering, rootless and alone.

He didn’t want to be called a monster. He longed for friends, for love. So he concealed his differences, enduring beatings without resistance—even when his leg was broken, he didn’t fight back.

He lived cautiously, scraping by in silence.

Until one day, someone saved him—

Her name was Luo Wanwan. She was young, always chattering and whispering in his ear.

“A Yan, some are born as celestial beings, not as blades of grass. They only see your destitution, but I see your uniqueness.”

“A Yan, if you truly have no home to return to, no path to follow, then come back to Xiaochong Mountain.”

At the time, Yen Jinglou had retorted irritably: “Xiaochong Mountain isn’t my home either.”

She smiled sweetly: “I’ll build you a home, pave a road. Follow the road back, and you’ll find me.” She said, “From now on, I’ll be your family.”

Later, he returned to Xiaochong Mountain as promised.

But Luo Wanwan was nowhere to be found.

The wind at Ghost Ridge was bitterly cold.

Yen Jinglou’s gaze lingered on the two figures atop the city wall, his thoughts slowly drifting back to the present.

“I want...”

Cui Wanning’s eyes widened gradually, her chest swelling with anticipation that seemed ready to burst forth.

His lips moved, but before anyone could make out what he said, a longsword suddenly cut through the air with a sharp whistle. With a soft thud , it pierced through his chest.

The world fell silent.

Cui Wanning stared in disbelief at the scene unfolding before her, tears rolling down her cheeks. “Ah Yan—!”

Her piercing cry echoed through the surroundings, lingering for a long time without fading.

Futian Hou sucked in a breath, nearly grinding his teeth to dust. “Who?!!”

Sang Li followed the direction from which the sword had come.

The first thing she saw was a white horse.

The snow-white steed trotted forward calmly, and the figure atop it gradually came into full view.

The sword still protruded from Yen Jinglou’s chest, and blood gushed from his mouth in torrents.

He paid no heed to his wound, his expression filled with astonishment.

Ji Hengyu had already arrived by his side, but he showed no concern for Yen Jinglou’s condition. Instead, he casually observed the three figures on the city wall.

“I’ve made the third choice for you. No need to thank me.”

It was unclear whether this statement was directed at Futian Hou or Yen Jinglou.

The entire hall fell deathly silent.

On the other hand, Sang Li remained calm.

Hmm, just like him.

This was indeed something Ji Hengyu would do.

“Ji. Heng. Yu.”

Blood trickled from the corner of Yen Jinglou’s mouth as he ground out the words between clenched teeth.

Ji Hengyu finally noticed there was someone else beside him. Turning his head, he raised an eyebrow at Yen Jinglou. “Seeing how difficult it was for you to decide, I took the liberty of helping you end things yourself. Considering you’re about to die, no thanks are necessary.”

Yen Jinglou was seething with anger, and with another gasp, he spat out more blood.

The people on the city wall exchanged glances. One subordinate cautiously observed Futian Hou’s expression. “Master, w-what should we do?”

The veins on Futian Hou’s neck bulged, and his beastly eyes seemed ready to explode.

“Since Ji Hengyu is here, it means he won’t let any of us off easily,” he growled through gritted teeth. “Activate the formation! Let them all die here!!”

Futian Hou had previously set up the Nine Heavens Divine Seal Ghost Killing Array here.

Close to the ghost realm, this array could instantly summon ten thousand ghosts. Alone, he couldn’t withstand the power of the entire ghost domain!

At this tense moment, a small stone flew through the air, landing precisely at Sang Li’s feet.

Sang Li’s gaze flickered. Without showing any emotion, she glanced behind her and noticed the familiar shadow. Instantly, she understood its meaning.

She held her ground, observing her surroundings carefully.

Futian Hou had only brought two people up with him, and after one left earlier, only the burly man from yesterday remained.

She looked again at the small snake nearby.

The little snake stared with its tiny bead-like eyes, occasionally flicking its tongue.

Futian Hou was busy confronting Ji Hengyu, paying no attention to what was happening here.

Seizing the opportunity, Sang Li acted swiftly, grabbing the venomous snake and leaping off the city wall. She pressed it against the burly man’s throat.

The snake’s fangs sank viciously into the man’s flesh, killing him almost instantly.

At the same moment, Si Tu swung her Ryūun Whip, wrapping it tightly around Futian Hou’s neck. With a forceful tug, she dragged him backward.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Sang Li snatched the snake ring from his hand and immediately turned to run.

Seeing Cui Wanning still frozen in place, Sang Li shouted urgently: “What are you waiting for?! Run!!”

Cui Wanning snapped out of her daze and scrambled down the stairs, stumbling as she fled.

This sudden turn of events left Futian Hou’s face pale with fury.

His five fingers stretched out like branches, reaching behind him and accurately seizing Si Tu’s wrist.

Zzzt!

That elongated hand quickly erupted with demonic flames, burning Si Tu’s skin until it split open.

“Si Tu!”

Sang Li glanced at the ring in her hand and, without hesitation, summoned the two-headed venomous snake, hurling it at Futian Hou.

The snake rapidly elongated, sinking its fangs deep into Futian Hou’s arm.

The sudden excruciating pain forced Futian Hou to release his grip, and he stared in astonishment at his own pet.

“You...”

Taking advantage of the moment, Sang Li helped Si Tu escape downward.

Si Tu was furious, cursing her as they ran. “You troublesome brat! You said you were just going to buy some snacks, and now you’ve gotten us turned into snacks!”

“Yes, yes, it’s my fault. Stop talking, let’s go!”

“I’ll say what I want! What’s your relationship with that Yen Jinglou? Is he threatening you? I knew it! Ever since ancient times, cesspools match with filth, dog men with wretched women—it’s always a perfect pair, hmm...”

As she spoke, the movement aggravated her wounds, causing her to grimace in pain.

Though the situation was perilous, Sang Li couldn’t help but genuinely find humor in it.

Si Tu glared at her, exasperated. “How can you still laugh…”

Sang Li stopped laughing.

She really couldn’t laugh anymore.

Blocking their path ahead was a dense crowd of demons. Even if there were a hundred of her, it would be impossible to break through this impenetrable wall.

In this critical moment, a vast shadow descended from above.

“Miss Sang Li, hurry up!”

Sang Li looked up and unexpectedly met a rugged, perilous face.

She could only describe it as rugged and perilous; at first glance, she thought it was a hidden trump card sent by Futian Hou. Stunned for a long while, she finally recognized the voice and hesitantly asked—

“Brother Qi?”

“It’s me.” Qi waved his giant wings, sweeping away a large group of people and horses, charging down. “Get on.”

Sang Li didn’t dare delay, helping Si Tu jump aboard.

Qi carried them away from Ghost Ridge. She couldn’t help but look down. From high above, Ji Hengyu’s white-robed figure stood out prominently, surrounded by encroaching fog formations and demon troops.

“What about Ji Hengyu?”

“The Ghost Killing Array will activate soon. Master ordered me to protect your escape while he stays behind to cover us.”

As soon as Qi finished speaking...

Sang Li saw a ring of red light form an enclosing array. The array rapidly shrank inward at a great speed, spreading poisonous miasma and heavy ghostly energy wherever it went.

—This was an ominous sign.

“Charge with me! Kill Ji Hengyu!”

At Futian Hou’s command, waves of demons and demon soldiers surged forward like a flood.

Beside them, Yen Jinglou also made a move.

Ji Hengyu summoned the Xiechi Cold Sword still embedded in Yen Jinglou’s chest, using it to deflect Yen Jinglou’s incoming spells while erecting a barrier to fend off enemies from all directions.

He fought two against one, exchanging blows evenly.

All around, magical lights filled the sky, and the sounds of clashing swords continued endlessly.

Yen Jinglou’s moves faintly echoed Ji Hengyu’s past style, his anger causing chaotic sword intent.

Several clangs of colliding sword energy resounded.

Yen Jinglou failed to keep up, and Ji Hengyu broke through his techniques. Then, with a sound of tearing flesh, Ji Hengyu pierced his heart with the sword.

Blood splattered onto his pale face.

Ji Hengyu’s hair was black, and the drop of blood seeping into the corner of his eye made his gaze even more distant and cold.

Yen Jinglou gasped heavily.

Faintly, he saw the scene of his limbs being broken once again.

His heart was filled with hatred, yet he couldn’t muster any strength.

Ji Hengyu lowered his eyes, his posture towering and commanding: “Stealing my Return Void Jade; plagiarizing my martial arts. Even if you’ve become the leader of ten thousand demons, in my eyes, you’re nothing but a cheap imitation. Your stolen puppet-making technique is laughably inferior. Yen Jinglou, you are destined never to become me, let alone kill me.”

“And what makes you so noble...?” Yen Jinglou sneered mockingly. “You are burdened with karmic obstacles; how many more years do you have left? Compared to my past self, you now resemble more of a useless waste.”

Ji Hengyu wasn’t angered; he calmly replied, “Oh, but I can still exterminate all the puppets you’ve left in the six realms. Would you like to see?”

As soon as these words were spoken, Yen Jinglou’s expression predictably changed.

Ji Hengyu slowly withdrew the Xiechi Cold Sword.

He coldly watched as Yen Jinglou—or rather, Yen Jinglou’s puppet—slowly turned to ashes before him, leaving only a drop of blood at the heart.

Finally, he carefully collected that drop of blood in a vial and stored it in his chest pocket.

Poof!

With the death of the puppet, far away in Yin Zhou’s King Hall, Yen Jinglou clutched his chest and coughed up a mouthful of blood.

His old wounds had not healed, and the death of the puppet triggered a backlash, causing his breathing to become erratic. Yen Jinglou leaned back on the throne; various sized dolls hung around him. Upon closer inspection, one of the dolls in front burned to ashes.

The Blood Soul Puppet Technique was an original art created by Ji Hengyu.

During those years studying in Return Void, Yen Jinglou had only managed to learn the basics.

But he was right—he couldn’t match Ji Hengyu’s ability to continuously create puppets, granting them equivalent abilities and life.

Yen Jinglou could only create twelve puppets.

These twelve puppets were made using the blood from the tips of his heart, extremely precious. With his current capabilities, he couldn’t create a thirteenth.

When he said he would kill...

It meant he truly would.

Yen Jinglou gazed at the remaining eleven puppets, his heart filled with resentment. He punched and shattered the small table in front of him.