AUOF - 57

The road leading to the demon realm was fraught with peril.

The deeper one ventured, the more active the demonic seeds and creatures became. Occasionally, clusters of low-level demons could be spotted gathering.

Sang Li’s cultivation surpassed theirs, so she wasn’t intimidated. For the most part, her journey had been uneventful.

When she finally arrived at the demon realm, the heavy, oppressive atmosphere unique to this place greeted her.

Above, the ominous “Wuyao” hung low in the sky.

Its crimson eyes burned fiercely, overlooking the land below.

This was a ruined city.

Dark, dilapidated, and devoid of light, everyone wore long robes, their faces concealed beneath hoods to protect themselves from the burning gaze of the “Wuyao.”

Part of the town was built above ground, while another part lay hidden underground.

As for the destitute low-level demons, they were left to eke out a miserable existence among the rubble and debris, surviving on scraps discarded by higher-level demon cultivators or immortal beings.

Sang Li rode her donkey leisurely through the streets.

The lurking demon cultivators crouched on either side, their gazes following her movements. Beneath their hoods, only their eyes were visible, gleaming with unmistakable greed.

After her figure passed, someone stealthily slipped away to report below ground.

Soon after, several shadows lying in wait stirred, masking their presence as they approached her.

Sang Li, ever vigilant, kept one hand on her donkey and the other prepared to retaliate.

Suddenly, the wind picked up.

She momentarily retracted her spiritual energy, unleashing a surge of demonic qi and swung a sharp blade of demonic energy into the empty air behind her.

The blade, light as spiritual fire, swiftly flew across the void.

Strangely, there was no one behind her.

Still maintaining her defensive stance, she paused for a long moment without seeing anyone approach, leaving her thoroughly perplexed.

Had her sixth sense failed her?

It shouldn’t have—she clearly sensed murderous intent.

Unable to make sense of it, Sang Li tilted her head in confusion, deciding not to dwell on it further. She mounted her donkey and continued toward Yin Zhou.

The wind carried a thick stench of blood.

A man clad in black robes sat cross-legged atop a roof beam, his long legs bent as he silently watched her figure disappear into the distance.

At his feet lay seven or eight corpses, all dead, their blood pooling beneath them and attracting wolves to gnaw on their remains.

Ji Xun leapt into motion once more, resuming his pursuit.

Every time a demonic seed attempted to attack Sang Li, he swiftly eliminated them with ruthless precision, ending their lives in a single strike.

By midnight, Sang Li had successfully returned to the ten palaces of Yin Zhou.

Without delay, she rehearsed her words mentally, tied her donkey to the side, and proceeded alone to Fucha Palace to meet Yen Jinglou.

Sang Li waited outside for a long time before a palace attendant finally arrived, moving at a leisurely pace: “The Demon Lord is currently attending to Lady Ningyue. He has instructed me to inform you that you may retire for the night.”

Sang Li frowned: “Did you not tell him that I’m in a hurry?”

The attendant bowed politely: “My apologies, Master.”

With no other choice, Sang Li returned to the residence where the little fox had stayed.

The little fox had a secluded villa of her own, though it was somewhat remote. Due to frequent missions and her infrequent stays, the conditions here were far inferior even to the chambers of palace maids.

Sang Li led her donkey, dragging her weary body back to the villa. What greeted her was a scene of desolation, overgrown with weeds.

Staring at the disarray around the courtyard, she stood still for a moment before tying up her donkey and heading to the bedroom from memory.

Pushing open the door revealed a damp, dim interior.

She lit a candle, and the clear, bright light immediately dispelled the gloom. The room contained no extravagant furnishings. On the windowsill sat a pot of Tianxiang flowers, but they had long since dried up due to neglect.

Sang Li wandered aimlessly around the room.

In the wardrobe hung a few of the little fox’s garments. Contrary to her outward appearance, they were simple in style, made of ordinary fabric. There were no embellishments, and even intricate patterns were scarce. The dressing table was equally barren, save for a small purplewood box carefully stored inside the drawer.

She opened it to find a jade bracelet carved in the shape of a phoenix.

Beneath it lay a small piece of paper with delicate handwriting—

[Given by Master, a birthday gift.

Seventh day of the first lunar month.]

The seventh day of the first lunar month.

Sang Li counted on her fingers and realized the little fox shared the same birthday as her.

She turned the bracelet over in her hands, attempting to slip it onto her wrist.

The band was too small, and after struggling for some time, she managed to stretch it only as far as the base of her thumb.

Measuring its size, she realized it would fit Cui Wanning perfectly.

Sang Li tugged at her lips wryly and carelessly placed the bracelet back.

As expected, over five hundred years, Yen Jinglou had only given her one gift. Even as a spontaneous gesture, it was exceedingly rare.

The first lunar month was a bustling time in the mortal realm.

It was likely that he had accompanied Cui Wanning on various outings, purchasing gifts for her, only to discard them on the little fox when Cui Wanning showed no interest.

Only she hadn’t realized, treasuring it as if it were precious.

Naively, she had even meticulously noted down the date.

Looking at the neatly written characters on the small piece of paper, then at the shabby surroundings, Sang Li felt an inexplicable sadness welling up within her.

Cui Wanning had been settled into Fuqu Palace upon her return.

It was a hundred times better than here. Afraid she might feel uncomfortable, Yen Jinglou had even decorated the garden to resemble the mortal realm. To ward off the cold dew of the demon palace, he adorned her chambers with luminous stones to simulate sunlight.

Sang Li lazily rested her head on the table, recalling how the little fox had initially been afraid of the dark and cold.

Since she couldn’t sleep anyway, she rose to tidy up the courtyard.

After all, this was where the little fox had lived. Even if she would never return, Sang Li wanted the place to be clean and orderly during her stay.

Deciding to act immediately, she rolled up her sleeves and pushed the door open.

But once again, something strange occurred—the weeds in the courtyard had been cleared, and even the dried-up carp pond had been refilled with water.

Sang Li turned her head and noticed that her donkey had also been taken care of—a large basket of carrots sat in front of it.

This was truly bizarre.

Sang Li stood frozen, speechless.

Something wasn’t right—it had felt off ever since she returned to the demon realm.

Dazed, she closed the door behind her, only to turn around and find that the vase on the windowsill had been replaced with freshly picked Tianxiang flowers.

The Tianxiang flowers were vivid and dewy, a single drop of fresh water clinging to their petals.

Hiss.

Her teeth tingled as she rushed outside to look around.

The courtyard itself was extremely secluded, one of the most isolated corners of the palace. It was so remote that not even a soul—let alone a ghost—could be seen.

Who could have done this?

Sang Li scratched her head, pondering deeply, until realization struck her.

—Liu Liu!

A long time ago, the little fox had saved a willow tree spirit. The spirit had endured much hardship, and moved by compassion, the little fox had brought the willow spirit back to the demon realm and kept it by her side.

Since arriving here from the upper heavens, Sang Li hadn’t formed any clear memories of Liu Liu. However, the bond between the little fox and Liu Liu had been profound. Every time the little fox returned from a mission, Liu Liu would diligently take care of her. It seemed that this time was no exception.

But alas…

The original little fox would never return.

With a melancholic sigh, Sang Li considered for a moment before calling out to the room—

“Liu Liu, rest early. There’s no need to attend to me.” She paused briefly. “Thank you for the Tianxiang flowers.”

With that said, Sang Li lay back down on the bed, fully clothed.

The shadow outside the wall, upon hearing these words, turned and vanished into the thick night, heading off to investigate the treasury.

________________________________________

The lights in Fuqu Palace still burned brightly.

The medicine masters of the demon palace bustled about, coming and going. After much commotion, Cui Wanning finally regained consciousness inside the inner chamber.

Seeing her eyes open, Yen Jinglou, who had been leaning against the bedside with half-closed eyes, slowly raised his gaze.

“Are you feeling better?”

Perhaps due to the quietness of the night, his usually cold voice carried a hint of softness.

Ever since seeing Sang Li and the events that unfolded, Cui Wanning had been uneasy. Now, seeing him stay by her side through the night, her restless heart finally found some peace.

Cui Wanning reached out to touch his face.

Yen Jinglou didn’t pull away.

“I always thought dealing with Futian Hou would only require one puppet, never expecting Ji Hengyu to appear, which is why you...”

Cui Wanning shook her head, interrupting his explanation.

She knew she had narrowly escaped death and didn’t want to dwell on how Yen Jinglou handled things. Weakly, she murmured: “As long as you’re safe, that’s all that matters.”

Yen Jinglou’s perpetually furrowed brows relaxed slightly.

“In my daze, I thought I heard Sang Li return.”

Yen Jinglou: “Mm.”

Confusion flickered in Cui Wanning’s eyes: “She went through so much trouble to return to the demon realm; surely she has something to report. Why don’t you go see her?”

“Not urgent,” Yen Jinglou closed his eyes briefly. “Ever since she went to the Abyssal Realm, her temperament has changed drastically, and she’s grown close to Si Tu. So...”

“You suspect her of betraying you?” Cui Wanning looked surprised, hesitating slightly after pursing her lips. “Actually…”

“Hmm?” Yen Jinglou lifted his eyelids slightly.

Cui Wanning hesitated before speaking: “I’ve also noticed that something about Ah Li seems different. In the past, she never attacked me or Chun Ling severely, but during our trip to Huashan City, she seemed like a completely different person, following that woman named Si Tu and acting recklessly.” She continued, “I can’t figure out why Chun Ling and I were captured when we hadn’t disclosed our route to anyone else.”

Yen Jinglou’s expression darkened. “Severe attacks?” His tone shifted. “She hurt you?”

Cui Wanning forced a smile: “It was Chun Ling. Just a small misunderstanding—you needn’t worry about it.” As she spoke, she tightly gripped Yen Jinglou’s hand. “It’s just speculation, Ah Yan. You don’t have to listen to me. After all, Sang Li has been with you for five hundred years—how could she easily betray you?”

“Even blood relatives might turn their blades on each other, let alone a fox spirit picked up along the way.” Yen Jinglou sneered. “What she’s loyal to is merely the gratitude of being saved. If a greater temptation or benefit presents itself, who would care about such an insignificant debt?”

Demons are inherently deceptive—they can never be trusted.

Cui Wanning fell silent. “Then what do you plan to do, Ah Yan?”

Yen Jinglou withdrew his hand and rose to his feet.

His towering figure cast a deep shadow over the bed.

“If she dares to return, she must have something to say. Let’s hear how she’ll try to justify herself.”

With that, Yen Jinglou swept his sleeve and left.

Cui Wanning watched his retreating figure, her gaze fixed, lost in thought.

Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced her chest, causing her to clutch the front of her robe tightly.

The Fan Sha flower growing within her heart felt like a knife embedded in her flesh. The longer she lived, the deeper its roots dug.

After a while, the pain subsided, leaving her drenched in cold sweat.

Weakly, she collapsed back onto the bed, the lingering ache leaving her utterly exhausted. Cui Wanning was acutely aware that she had no chance of reincarnation now. To endure this endless life, there was only one solution—to kill Sang Li.

Kill her and seize her demon core.