AUOF - 62

“I knew it. If you didn’t like me, you wouldn’t have come all this way, nor would you have taken me to see the Void Sea. Those aren’t things you’d normally do.”

Sang Li wasn’t so dull that she couldn’t sense anything.

She had felt this way for a long time but hadn’t dared to confirm it. In her eyes, Ji Hengyu was someone high above, far too lofty to ever like someone like her. Perhaps it was because of the silken worm curse or some other reason.

In any case, she didn’t believe this affection was pure.

“But I don’t like you.”

Sang Li’s rejection was blunt and decisive, without a trace of hesitation.

Ji Xun gazed deeply at her, about to say something when suddenly his soul was pulled, and he experienced a sharp sensation of separation. Ji Hengyu had forcefully used a soul-transfer technique on him.

Though it was a soul-transfer, Ji Xun didn’t enter Ji Hengyu’s body.

Instead, Ji Hengyu’s soul suppressed him entirely, rendering him unable to speak or move, yet still allowing him to clearly see and hear everything through the body’s eyes and ears.

Ji Xun panicked momentarily and tried to struggle in vain.

Sensing his resistance, Ji Hengyu tightened his spiritual power, completely subduing him.

Ji Xun stopped resisting but watched helplessly as everything unfolded.

Ji Hengyu calmly took over Ji Xun’s identity and position, asking coolly, “Why?”

Sang Li didn’t notice any difference. When it came to matters she didn’t want, she never beat around the bush. Even facing Ji Hengyu, Sang Li didn’t mince her words: “I think it’s unfair.”

“Unfair?” Ji Hengyu asked again, “What kind of unfairness?”

At first, she didn’t speak, only hesitantly pointing to her own heart and then to his.

Ji Hengyu had almost forgotten about the existence of this heart.

Only after her reminder did he clearly feel the trembling of the heartbeat within his chest.

Desire surged wildly, like an endless sea.

It was a torrent he couldn’t suppress no matter how hard he tried.

Ji Hengyu clenched his fingers, instantly understanding her meaning.

Sang Li slowly withdrew her hand: “The silken worm makes you like me, makes you want to save me. That emotion is what the silken worm transmits to you, but it’s not truly yours.”

[But it’s not truly yours.]

What if it were truly his?

Ji Hengyu’s throat tightened, the rising desire urging him to ask that question.

“And you’re still bound by your engagement. Even if neither you nor Si Tu are willing, it’s public knowledge.” Sang Li pursed her lips, “I think it’s inappropriate.”

This engagement had always been something Ji Hengyu despised.

Her reminder made him feel both angry and somewhat amused, prompting a cold laugh. “You’re quite clear-headed.”

“It’s not about being clear-headed.” Sang Li quickly retorted, “I just wanted to explain it to you clearly. I want you to know that I’ve thought this through before rejecting you—it’s not out of indifference.”

“What if there were no engagement?”

Ji Hengyu’s sudden question caught Sang Li off guard.

Under the entwined moonlight and tree shadows, his eyes were clearer than ever; yet they also held a hint of madness.

Under the influence of the silken worm and the faintest shred of longing, Ji Hengyu abandoned his internal struggle and let go of his self-restraint. He cast aside everything else, driven solely by his heart’s desires—

“What if there were no engagement, no silken worm? What if I were just Ji Hengyu—would you agree then?”

Without those?

Sang Li had never considered such a possibility.

She remained speechless for a long while before awkwardly replying, “Without those, you probably should have killed me already.”

Ji Hengyu was momentarily stunned, then covered his eyes, unable to suppress a bitter laugh.

Indeed.

Without those, he wouldn’t have let her live this long. She would merely be a fleeting shadow in his life, a nameless figure leaving no trace behind.

His laughter carried a tinge of bitterness.

Sang Li had never seen this side of Ji Hengyu and was immediately flustered, unsure of what to say or whether to say anything at all.

When he finally calmed down, Sang Li softly said, “Besides, I’d rather focus on other things than romantic feelings.”

Her brows were burdened with sorrow.

Ji Hengyu glanced at her, his heart finally softening. “What other things?”

Sang Li replied, “No one hates another without reason, nor loves without cause. I don’t believe I’ve offended Lady Ningyue. Given Yan Jinglou’s favor and the status he’s bestowed upon her, I pose no threat whatsoever.”

“You can’t understand why she wants you dead.”

Sang Li nodded, acknowledging Ji Hengyu’s deduction.

Little Fox genuinely liked Yan Jinglou, but that affection wasn’t enough reason for Cui Wanning to kill her. After all, her love was so humble and insignificant—why go to such lengths to take her life repeatedly?

There must be another reason.

Her strike had been clean and straight to the heart. If she had died, it would have been fine; but if she hadn’t…

“She… she should be dead, right?”

Sang Li’s heart raced, regretting not delivering another blow.

She was panicking like a rabbit without a burrow. Ji Hengyu, now aware of his heart, found it harder to remain cold toward her, even seeing her anxiety unbearable.

“Tell me about that… Lady something.”

Sang Li quickly recounted everything she knew into his ear.

After listening, Ji Hengyu looked at her with a heavy gaze.

Sang Li grew uneasy under his stare: “Wh-what? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Ji Hengyu glanced at the box in her arms, abruptly changing the subject. “I can give you the Liuyan Pearl, but in the future, you must do one thing for me.”

Sang Li’s throat went dry.

How did they suddenly bring up the Liuyan Pearl again? And… wasn’t it just given to her for free earlier?

Ji Hengyu stated matter-of-factly, “Since you’ve rejected my confession of love, I can no longer give you things for nothing in return.”

Sang Li: “...”

That made sense.

There was indeed no reason to accept something for free.

She nodded in agreement. “Alright, I’ll do one thing for you.”

Seeing that he didn’t plan to mention Cui Wanning again, Sang Li also didn’t want to waste more time here.

She stood up, brushing off her clothes. “Then I’ll be going now.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “My lord, thank you for helping me.”

Ji Hengyu leaned against the tree trunk, neither nodding nor shaking his head, calm and composed, his brow serene.

Under the boundless glow of the night, he looked desolate, as if on the verge of shattering.

Sang Li clutched the box tightly, finally unable to bear it. “W-wait until our matters are resolved, then we can reconsider this.”

Ji Hengyu raised his eyes.

She said awkwardly, “I mean… about whether you like me or not.”

The slight frown on Ji Hengyu’s face slowly eased, his eyes gradually clearing but then becoming entangled once more with lingering affection.

In an instant, his spiritual sea broke open. He suddenly realized what he truly desired.

The greed in his chest burned so fiercely that it devoured all the principles he had upheld for three thousand years. In a single night, everything had been changed by her.

Enduring excruciating pain, Ji Hengyu extracted a strand of his soul.

The golden soul strand was as thin as a hair. He handed it over. “Take it.”

“What is this?”

“A strand of my soul. It can mask your presence, protect your life, and allow me to find you.”

Sang Li hesitated to take it.

He persisted, “Consider it a token of our agreement, so you don’t renege.”

Renege on what?

On the matter of dating him???

Sang Li was instantly speechless, truly thinking he was delusional.

It was such a trivial matter; she wouldn’t really go back on her word anyway. Why did he have to… extract his own soul strand? Just thinking about it made her wince.

Reluctantly, Sang Li accepted it.

The soul strand, as if sentient, burrowed into her chest and vanished without a trace. She touched her now empty chest, said nothing more, and quickly left with the Liuyan Pearl.

Even after she walked far away, until her figure disappeared in the distance, Ji Hengyu couldn’t bear to tear his gaze away.

After a long while, Ji Hengyu took a deep breath and released Ji Xun.

Even though Ji Xun was now out, Ji Hengyu showed no intention of leaving.

“That lady…” Ji Hengyu pondered for a moment but couldn’t recall anything about her. “You’ve seen her—did you notice anything unusual?”

Knowing Ji Hengyu was asking for Sang Li’s sake, Ji Xun didn’t hide anything and recounted everything in detail: “Yes, there was.”

“Hmm?”

Ji Xun: “She carried the aura of the Soul-Capturing Pearl, yet the pearl itself wasn’t present.”

The Soul-Capturing Pearl…

Ji Hengyu certainly hadn’t forgotten it.

The Soul-Capturing Pearl had once been Gui Xu’s treasure for subduing souls.

Its origins were unknown. It could capture souls and solidify spirits, even resurrect the dead and mend broken bones. But in a careless moment, it was stolen by a young cultivator who had only been there for a year.

Originally, Gui Xu had accepted cultivators who hadn’t yet formed immortal bones. After this incident, they closed their gates.

Ji Hengyu had also searched the mortal realm for the Soul-Capturing Pearl but found nothing.

Combining Sang Li’s account and the disappearance of the Soul-Capturing Pearl, a hypothesis emerged—

Yan Jinglou likely used the Soul-Capturing Pearl to resurrect a dead soul.

Thinking about Sang Li’s spirit form, he found the situation increasingly intriguing.

“Return to Gui Xu and take my place. I’ll follow Sang Li.” After issuing the order, Ji Hengyu paused briefly. “Also, never attempt to defy me again.”

Ji Xun didn’t respond.

Once Ji Hengyu’s consciousness departed, Ji Xun finally felt freed from his constraints.

He couldn’t tell if he felt relieved or disappointed.

Gazing at his slender, elegant fingers, he found himself wishing he had his own body.

Feeling sorrowful and lonely, yet unable to disobey, he returned to Gui Xu.