AUOF - 59

At the bottom of Du Sheng Cliff, there were countless wandering spirits and malevolent ghosts.

The eternally burning Wu Yao flames blurred the boundary between heaven and earth. Trees stood before her, while a river of crimson flowed beneath her feet. She manifested her nine tails to protect her form, simultaneously shielding herself from the scorching heat.

Sang Li wandered aimlessly downstream.

The further she descended, the higher the temperature climbed. Overcome by the heat, she was gasping for air. Too exhausted to continue, she sat down to rest.

Her tail began to itch, as though tiny insects were crawling on it.

She shook her large tail forcefully, only to find relief fleeting—the itching sensation returned shortly after.

Sang Li held her breath, focusing intently. At the right moment, she curled the tip of her tail tightly, trapping the culprit and bringing it close to her face.

The thing was small, completely hidden beneath the thick fur of her tail. Pushing aside the fur, she finally caught sight of its shape.

It was icy white, semi-transparent, resembling a ribbon.

Surrounding it were shimmering specks of light like snowflakes, cool to the touch and strangely soothing.

A ghostly insect??

It wriggled within her tail, but after struggling futilely for a while, it gave up and lay limp in her fur.

Curious, Sang Li poked at the “little bug” with her finger.

Its texture felt like chilled milk jelly, and she couldn’t resist poking it a few more times. After satisfying her curiosity, she released it.

“Go ahead, but be careful not to get eaten by evil spirits.”

Sang Li rose and continued onward.

The ribbon-like creature remained suspended in midair, seemingly stunned that Sang Li had let it go. The next instant, it swooped toward her, circling her body once before drifting away.

“I don’t have time to play with you,” Sang Li said impatiently, waving it off.

But the “ghostly insect” persisted, latching onto her hair bun and giving it a sharp tug. The sudden force nearly caused her to stumble, almost plunging her into the fiery sea of molten rock below.

As the flames loomed dangerously close, cold sweat drenched the back of her neck.

Before she could react with anger, the “ghostly insect” tugged her hair again, pulling her to one side. A cacophony of eerie cries erupted, and a flock of soul birds resembling crows swarmed toward them.

The “ghostly insect” shot into the flock like an arrow, unleashing ice blades. In the blink of an eye, the flock of soul birds shattered into fragments and plummeted into the sea of magma.

After the birds were annihilated, it cheerfully fluttered back to Sang Li, stretching its body longer and forming the shape of a hand. Then—

It gave Sang Li a thumbs-up.

It looked incredibly smug.

“??”

Sang Li stared, dumbfounded.

She licked her dry lips, an improbable thought crossing her mind. Tentatively, she called out its name: “Hua Gu Ling?”

The ribbon spun circles in the air, then formed the shape of fox ears.

Sang Li pondered: “You want to see my ears?”

It nodded vigorously.

Sang Li fell silent.

According to Cui Wanning’s description, Hua Gu Ling should have been a sinister and malevolent object. Her “generosity” in offering it to Sang Li was clearly part of a scheme to ensure she wouldn’t return alive. But…

Sang Li gazed silently at the ribbon before her.

—Could it be that even divine artifacts have a soft spot for fluffy things?

Seeing her unmoving for so long, the floating Hua Gu Ling twisted itself into a knot of frustration.

Her thoughts raced, and after a moment of contemplation, she said: “Not only can I show you my ears, but I can also transform into a little fox. Do you want to see?”

The ribbon quivered in excitement, curling and stretching rapidly, reminiscent of the blow-up toys Sang Li had played with as a child—expanding and contracting repeatedly.

“But you’ll have to acknowledge me as your master first. Only then will I show you.”

Hua Gu Ling hesitated, reluctantly nodding.

“Then let’s perform the blood pact.”

Sang Li extended her hand toward it.

Hua Gu Ling: “…”

Hua Gu Ling: “…………”

After a long silence, Hua Gu Ling turned and drifted away without looking back.

Sang Li sighed deeply. She had expected that Hua Gu Ling wouldn’t be so easily won over. Cui Wanning had mentioned that it was a feather shed by a malevolent phoenix. Perhaps her tail reminded it of the time when it was still attached to its original owner. Affection was one thing; acknowledging a new master was another.

However, now that she understood its preferences, winning it over wouldn’t be too difficult.

Sang Li transformed into her true form and chased after Hua Gu Ling in the direction it had fled.

In her fox form, her senses were far sharper.

Sang Li could feel that Hua Gu Ling was nearby, but she wasn’t in a hurry. Instead, she found a withered tree and curled up at its base.

Rolling over lazily, she sprawled her limbs and exposed her belly.

Her large tail spread out on the ground, its tip swaying gently.

A faint sound reached her ears.

The tip of her tail twitched slightly, but her closed eyes remained shut.

After a while, Sang Li stretched her front paws elegantly, arching her back in a luxurious yawn.

Amidst the heavy mist of fire, the snow-white little fox lounged lazily on the scorched yellow earth, a striking and unmissable sight.

For any animal, the belly was a vulnerable spot, easy to attack.

Yet there she lay, exposing her round belly, her soft fox fur puffing up slightly in the breeze.

Hua Gu Ling drifted cautiously closer, sprinkling snowflake-like specks that brushed against her nose.

Sang Li reached out with her paw, but it darted up and down like a teasing string, refusing to let her catch it.

Just as they were playing happily, a chilling sensation shot from her nape straight to the tip of her tail, causing all the fur on her body to stand on end.

Hua Gu Ling seemed to have sensed something as well, signaling to Sang Li to wait while it drifted forward.

Sang Li didn’t hesitate for long and decided to follow.

Beneath the slope lay countless dismembered remains, and a trail of blood meandered from her feet into the deepest part of the abyss. She lowered her head and sniffed—the blood was still warm, suggesting that the death had occurred recently. Mixed within it was a faint but very familiar scent.

Sang Li’s gaze darkened.

It seemed that aside from wandering spirits, there were other assassins lurking in Du Sheng Cliff.

She glanced at the sky.

The eternal flames kept Du Sheng Cliff perpetually bright, but that didn’t mean it lacked day and night. When the red clouds above turned black, it signaled the arrival of night.

After nightfall, the demonic seeds hidden beneath the sea of fire would seize their chance to strike.

Sang Li didn’t have much time to waste, nor did she feel like continuing this game of pretend with Hua Gu Ling. She transformed back into her human form, her expression solemn: “I’ll ask you one more time—do you want to leave with me? I promise to treat you well. You can play with tails and touch ears, and I assure you I’ll never leave you.”

Sang Li made her vow: “You should understand—you can no longer return to its body since it has died. But you can choose to stay by my side.”

Though Hua Gu Ling possessed intelligence, it was clear it wasn’t particularly clever.

Sang Li could have easily forced it into submission when it became addicted to her fluffy tail. However, if she had done so, even if it became her weapon, it wouldn’t serve her wholeheartedly, and one day it would inevitably turn against her.

Sang Li merely needed a weapon for self-defense—it didn’t have to be Hua Gu Ling. There was no need to risk her life over it.

If it refused, she could always swallow her pride and ask Si Tu again.

Hua Gu Ling hovered silently in midair.

Sang Li already knew the answer. “I understand.”

She nodded, abandoning any thought of bringing Hua Gu Ling back without hesitation. With a burst of speed, she flew upward without looking back.

Du Sheng Cliff was ten thousand zhang deep—even flying would take some time.

The red flames roared with the wind.

As she passed through the dense shadows of fire, a deadly blade came slicing toward her. Startled, Sang Li whipped her nine tails fiercely, pulling her body out of harm’s way. In the next instant, the assassin struck again.

She quickly formed a spiritual seal, preparing to retaliate, when suddenly a frost bloomed before her eyes.

The frost shattered, expanding into a massive barrier that deflected all the attacking blades.

The masked assassin looked astonished.

Before long, he swung his sword and charged again, only to see Hua Gu Ling transform into a ten-foot-long icicle. It wrapped around his throat three times, and as he struggled to breathe, its sharp end pierced straight through his chest.

Krrrrsh!

Hua Gu Ling forcibly extracted a spirit pill from his abdomen.

Without its spirit pill, the assassin quickly crumbled into dust, vanishing without a trace as the flames consumed him.

Hua Gu Ling reverted to its ribbon-like form, curling around the spirit pill and presenting it to Sang Li’s lips.

The spirit pill was a deep blue, emanating a faint glow—it was evidently powerful.

Since it had been forcibly taken from someone else, Sang Li hesitated to consume it. But thinking of her own cultivation, she steeled herself and absorbed the pill.

For immortals, consuming a demon’s spirit pill would result in conflicting energies clashing with their spiritual essence, damaging their cultivation. However, Sang Li was of the Ling Clan, born from the essence of heaven and earth. Whether it was from a demon, a spirit, or an immortal, anything she consumed would be filtered into usable spiritual energy for her body.

A gentle flow of spiritual energy circulated throughout her, her consciousness suddenly expanding. As her dantian warmed slightly, her four cardinal regions gradually became saturated.

Before Sang Li could fully absorb the sensation, Hua Gu Ling coiled around her fingertip, pricking her skin. A drop of blood soaked into it.

It spiraled up her finger, while the other end gently pressed against her forehead.

In an instant, her thoughts were pulled away, and she was drawn into an illusion.

At the dawn of creation, before the heavens and earth were separated, all things were in their infancy. It stood in one corner, its wings shimmering like purple flames. When it spread its wings, they blotted out the sky.

Sang Li watched it soar, watched it fall, and saw it pluck a single feather and cast it into the mountains and seas.

Drifting through the tides of history, the feather never found its home.

As the illusion faded, Sang Li willingly exposed her ears, rubbing them gently.

Hua Gu Ling, ecstatic at finally touching fox ears, played around for a while before obediently transforming into a translucent blue bracelet that wrapped around her wrist and middle finger, resembling a beautiful piece of jewelry.

Sang Li stroked it briefly and then took off in flight.

________________________________________

At the bottom of Du Sheng Cliff,

Unnamed Slope.

Several corpses lay scattered at her feet, their blood pooling in a depression at the lowest point, almost overflowing.

A man in a black robe and cloak stood leaning against the wall, his entire face concealed in shadow.

He remained silent, staring coldly at the only surviving figure amidst the pile of bodies.

The man had been tortured severely.

His chest was riddled with bloody holes, and swarms of flesh-eating ants surrounded the wounds, gnawing at his flesh.

“I’ll ask you one last time—who sent you?”

This person was one of the elite assassins assigned by Yen Jinglou to serve Cui Wanning exclusively.

This team consisted of the most skilled warriors, loyal only to Cui Wanning, beyond even Yen Jinglou’s command.

Having emerged from the bloody seas of battle, he was a tough opponent, sneering: “I’d like to ask you—how did you infiltrate the demon realm? By hindering me like this, are you perhaps that fox spirit’s lover brought in from the outside? Even if you kill me, you won’t escape the demon realm under the Demon Lord’s watchful eye!”

“Lover…”

Ji Xun slowly retracted his fingertips, contemplating. “Mm,” he said. “Yes, I am.”

The assassin grew more animated: “So I guessed correctly! You’d better kill me—if I survive, I’ll report to the Demon Lord and have you two thrown into the River of Withered Souls as wild mandarin ducks.”

“Wild mandarin ducks?”

Ji Xun tilted his head, confused for a moment before realization dawned.

He understood what “wild mandarin ducks” referred to—they were depicted in the books Ji Wu had instructed him to find.

It referred to a pair of lovers who were deeply affectionate but not accepted by society.

Ji Xun didn’t care about being accepted—he only cared about mutual affection.

He rather liked the term “wild mandarin ducks” and nodded approvingly: “You’ve made a good point.”

The assassin was dumbfounded.

“In that case, I’ll grant you a swift death.”

Ji Xun raised his hand, a flash of spiritual light cutting through the air—a single strike ended the assassin’s life.

He then tightened his cloak, his figure vanishing instantly amidst the fiery haze.