AUOF - 74

Sang Li recalled the Mirror Demon that had dragged them into Wanshui Prefecture. Its hatred was evident, and it was determined to drag everyone down with it.

Could it be… that this Mirror Demon, like the big-eyed creature, had undergone the same ordeal? Could that be why it harbored such deep hatred for the Nine Ling World?

But why would the Wuding Sect do such a thing? What benefit could they possibly gain?

Were they merely using these creatures as tools for entertainment in some kind of brutal arena?

“While you were at the Wuding Sect, did you ever hear of the Floating World Bell?”

Ji Hengyu’s words broke her train of thought, and she turned to look at Qi.

“I’ve heard the elders mention it,” Qi replied. “It’s said that the Floating World Bell only needs a single drop of blood from someone to reveal their hundred lifetimes’ worth of memories. Moreover, it records the memories of everyone who has ever touched it. Not long ago, this sacred artifact was reportedly stolen by a malevolent force, and now the entire sect is frantically trying to retrieve it. If the bell is truly as powerful as rumored, they’re likely afraid of it falling into outsiders’ hands and revealing the sect’s dirty secrets.”

Ji Hengyu’s eyelashes drooped low, casting a shadow beneath his lids, a faint gray silhouette visible.

“It’s not fake.”

With that, he released the tracking bug again, and fragments of conversation began to trickle through.

“Tonight, we absolutely must kill that treacherous dog and retrieve the Floating World Bell. Otherwise, the sect master won’t spare us either.” The man’s voice betrayed his fear, clearly intimidated by the sect master for a long time.

Ji Hengyu let out a soft scoff, finding it amusing.

“Qi.”

Qi clasped his hands. “Disciple is here.”

“You will immediately return to the Wuding Sect. Find an opportunity to infiltrate the secret realm and quietly release those innocent civilians who haven’t yet been harmed. Do so without drawing attention.”

“Yes.” Qi hesitated for a moment, then stammered, “What about… those Mirror Demons?”

Ji Hengyu instructed, “Leave them for now.”

“Yes.”

Qi transformed back into a flying insect and left Xizhou Mountain.

This left Sang Li feeling restless. “Shouldn’t we follow him?”

Ji Hengyu slowly shook his head. “No, we’ll stay here.”

“But…”

“Didn’t you hear me?” His gaze lazily flicked toward Sang Li, causing her to freeze momentarily.

Ji Hengyu tapped the table lightly. “If we obtain the Floating World Bell, there’ll be no need to go through the trouble of heading to Xiaozhong Mountain.”

Sang Li instantly understood the implication of his words.

If the Floating World Bell truly possessed the miraculous abilities described—capable of revealing a person’s hundred lifetimes of memories—they could use it directly on Cui Wan’ning. Everything from the past would come to light.

Sang Li grew inexplicably tense.

She clenched her palms, which tingled strangely. “But I’m a bit worried.”

“Oh?”

“They mentioned the name Lu Qinghe.”

Ji Hengyu furrowed his brows, as if racking his brain trying to recall who that was.

Sang Li sighed in exasperation and explained, “During the incident in Wanshui Prefecture, Lin Xiang’er left behind a suicide note. Lu Qinghe was her lover. Have you forgotten?”

Ji Hengyu’s frown deepened further. “Who is Lin Xiang’er?”

Sang Li choked, utterly speechless.

She let out a low sigh, no longer expecting him to remember or hoping to make sense of anything by discussing it with him.

“In any case, I’m quite worried that the malevolent force they spoke of might be Lu Qinghe.”

Sang Li rested her chin on her hands, her head swaying slightly from exhaustion.

Though spoken casually, her words irritated Ji Hengyu. His tone carried both mockery and a hint of jealousy. “You seem awfully concerned about a man you’ve never even met. How oddly warm-hearted of you.”

Sang Li was stunned into silence.

She lowered her hand and glanced over, but Ji Hengyu had already shifted his gaze elsewhere.

“Lin Xiang’er helped save us. Without that suicide note, we wouldn’t have made it out of Wanshui Prefecture. It’s tragic that she died far from home. Of course, I want to help her.” Sang Li’s face flushed red as she summoned the courage to complain, “Master, you’re being strange. I’m only trying to help Lin Xiang’er. Why does it sound like I’m fixated on another man when you say it?”

Troublesome.

His harsh words grated on her ears—she didn’t want to hear another word.

Ji Hengyu casually glanced away, but in reality, he was secretly observing her current expression.

She wasn’t good at hiding her emotions. Most of the time, her happiness or unhappiness was clear as day. But now, her expression didn’t fall into either category—it was more akin to being misunderstood, tinged with frustration.

Ji Hengyu’s mood suddenly brightened. “What if Lu Qinghe really is the malevolent force?”

Sang Li hadn’t figured out how to handle that possibility.

She bit her lower lip and resolved firmly, “Kill him… kill him.”

“Oh?” Ji Hengyu drew out the syllable, smirking teasingly. “You’d dare take action?”

“W-what’s there to be afraid of?” Sang Li forced herself to speak boldly. “The people come first. Besides, I have no connection with him. I only wanted to deliver Lin Xiang’er’s belongings to her. If he has truly become a malevolent force wreaking havoc in the world, then he must be killed.”

Sang Li drew a clear line between right and wrong.

Those who deserved death would be killed; those who needed to live would be spared.

After she finished speaking, Ji Hengyu’s brow suddenly smoothed, as if a jade had been abruptly cast into the night sea. The faint glimmer in his eyes gradually dimmed, sinking into two bottomless pools of darkness.

Meeting those eyes, all emotion came to an abrupt halt.

Sang Li shrank back slightly, her expression growing cautious. “Master, what’s wrong?” She worried that she might have said something wrong, causing his expression to grow so inscrutable.

Ji Hengyu snapped back to awareness, a smile curling his lips, masking all shadows behind it. “Having compassion for the common people is a good thing.”

Sang Li relaxed. “Then may I return to my room to rest?”

Just as she was about to leave, Ji Hengyu called her back. “Stay here.” His tone was languid. “Those petty thieves might have ill intentions. They could break into your room. To avoid disturbances, it’s better to stay here.”

Whether out of fear that Sang Li might misunderstand or that she’d refuse, Ji Hengyu patiently explained for the first time, “Besides, we won’t be able to sleep for long. We might have to leave in the middle of the night.”

It made sense.

With her current cultivation, she naturally wasn’t afraid of a few low-level cultivators. However, if they really broke in, resisting would be troublesome, and not resisting would also be problematic. To avoid alarming them prematurely, Sang Li decided to stay here.

The room only had a very simple single bed.

After days of travel, sleeping rough and exposed to the elements, her body was utterly exhausted and yearned for a proper bed to stretch out on. But it felt inappropriate to lie down directly in front of Ji Hengyu, who was, after all, a Celestial Lord.

Sang Li picked up the blanket and dutifully spread it on the floor.

Ji Hengyu’s brow tightened slightly. “Go lie on the bed.”

She held the blanket and asked hesitantly, “What about you, Master?”

Ji Hengyu replied indifferently, “I won’t sleep.”

“Oh.” With that assurance, she felt relieved.

Sang Li removed her shoes and socks and happily climbed onto the bed to sleep.

Night gradually swallowed the remnants of daylight.

As the last ray of sunlight disappeared, a crimson moon hung high outside the window.

This was Xizhou Mountain, a desolate land.

Already sparsely populated by scattered tribes, the presence of malevolent forces made the nighttime atmosphere even more desolate.

Sang Li paid no mind to any of this.

Over the past few days, she had grown accustomed to Ji Hengyu and the big-eyed creature’s constant vigilance. As soon as her head touched the pillow, she fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

There were no candles lit inside the room.

Ji Hengyu sat motionless in his seat, eyes closed as he rested. When faint rustling footsteps approached from outside, he slowly opened his eyes.

“Huai’an, are we really going through with this? Maybe we should just leave. If we delay too long, I’m afraid…”

“We still have two hours—plenty of time to get the job done,” Huai’an whispered, lowering his voice. “Be quiet; don’t wake his older brother.”

The person accompanying him hesitated. “But…”

Huai’an grew impatient with his companion’s indecisiveness and interrupted irritably, “If you don’t want to do this, go back. I brought you along because you’re my brother, and I wanted to share some spoils with you. If you’re truly scared, return to your room—I won’t stop you.”

“I’ll… I’ll follow you.”

The two muttered amongst themselves, passing by the door shortly after and heading to the neighboring room.

Ji Hengyu remained perfectly still. “Ji Wu,” he murmured, closing his eyes again. “Take your time killing them.”

A wisp of red mist drifted away, vanishing instantly toward the opposite room.

At that moment, Huai’an and his companion quietly entered the room, securing the door latch before approaching the bed.

In the pitch darkness, a delicate figure lay nestled under the thin blanket.

Huai’an caught a whiff of a subtle, sweet fragrance—whether from the candle or the woman on the bed, he couldn’t tell.

His heart raced.

Though this wasn’t his first time committing such a vile act, the thought of the woman coyly hiding behind a veil sent waves of excitement coursing through him.

“Brother.”

Seeing Huai’an reach out uncontrollably, his junior disciple reminded him, “The soul-binding charm.”

Right, right—the soul-binding charm!

He fumbled around for the spell talisman, finally gripping it between his fingers. Just then, a soft, coquettish voice emerged from beneath the covers. “Why bother? For me… a soul-binding charm isn’t necessary.”

Her voice seemed to drip with seduction, causing Huai’an’s hand to tremble, and the talisman fluttered to the ground.

Amidst a few giggles, a pair of hands pulled him into the canopy.

Huai’an was nearly entranced, his face flushed with anticipation of an enticing encounter. Yet, when he pushed forward, what greeted him was a man.

The man wore crimson robes and had blood-red eyes, smiling warmly at him.

It was none other than the woman’s older brother!

“You—why is it you?!”

Huai’an was horrified.

Ji Wu chuckled softly. “Not satisfied with this face?”

He raised a hand and slapped his cheek. “How about this one?”

This time, it was the woman’s face—but hideously ugly.

“And this?”

Ji Wu switched to the face of an elderly woman.

Huai’an finally realized that the person before him was far from benevolent. Just as he reached for his sword, Ji Wu continued to playfully amuse himself.

“Or perhaps…” He slapped his face again. “This one?”

A terrifying snake-like visage loomed, nearly filling the entire space.

Huai’an swung his sword, but it passed through empty air.

Ji Wu cast a spell, freezing the two in place, while he floated leisurely in midair. “Master told me to take my time killing them, but dealing with filthy low-cultivation scum like you is truly a waste of my time.”

He narrowed his eyes, gazing at their panic-stricken expressions, suddenly struck by an amusing idea.

“Since you enjoy seeking pleasure, why not fulfill your desires?”

With a flick of his finger, Ji Wu effortlessly stripped them of centuries’ worth of cultivation.

The sudden loss of their powers left them terrified and stunned, but the real horror came next. Before Huai’an’s eyes, his junior disciple began to transform, gradually morphing into a grotesque, half-human, half-mantis monstrosity.

“Stop! What are you doing?!”

Huai’an’s eyes bulged, his hoarse scream barely recognizable.

Ji Wu smiled cheerfully, thoroughly entertained. “I’ve heard that after mating, mantises devour their partner. I’ve never witnessed it myself, so I’d like to see it happen. And…” He raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t this exactly what you like?”

“I don’t like it! I don’t like it anymore!”

“Please spare me… Great Immortal, have mercy and spare my life!”

Huai’an begged frantically, trying to struggle but finding himself completely immobilized.

Now powerless, he could only watch helplessly as his dehumanized, mantis-like junior disciple lunged at him.

Accompanied by piercing screams, the scene turned gruesomely bloody.

Ji Wu sneered, finding even a glance at the carnage repulsive.

He retrieved the identification tokens the two had dropped and returned to Ji Hengyu, presenting them to him.

“They might come in handy for Master.”

“Hmm.” Ji Hengyu accepted the tokens, ignoring the anguished cries echoing from the neighboring room. He considered waking her up but, upon seeing her peaceful sleeping face, decided it wouldn’t hurt to let her rest a little longer.