AUOF - 79

An unexpected event occurred.

The soul-capturing pearl resisted her grasp, refusing to be absorbed into her body.

Cui Wan’ning couldn’t understand why. Her expression was a mix of confusion, panic, and intense unwillingness.

Only Yan Jinglou knew the reason.

Heavenly artifacts possessed intelligence. When Yan Jinglou stole this soul-capturing pearl, his mind was solely focused on saving Luo Wanwan, even at the cost of his own life. He had dripped his blood onto it to claim ownership.

That drop of blood contained all his love for Luo Wanwan. The pearl recognized that Cui Wan’ning was not the person in its memory and thus refused to be claimed by her.

Yet Cui Wan’ning, as if possessed, entered the mourning hall under the pretext of keeping vigil. Amidst the thunder, she opened the coffin.

Sang Li held her breath.

Yan Jinglou immediately guessed what she intended to do. His pupils contracted and trembled, his tightly clenched fists already embedded with nails, oblivious to the blood seeping out.

When he realized, he struggled to stop her, but forgot they were merely witnessing someone else’s memories.

He failed to intervene, helplessly watching as Cui Wan’ning used a knife to extract the heart’s blood from the deceased girl and swallowed the pearl along with the blood.

Yan Jinglou staggered backward.

He was like a porcelain vase on the verge of shattering, needing only the slightest touch to break apart.

Cui Wan’ning finally got what she desired. Excited yet nervous, she resealed the coffin and fled back to the courtyard that night.

The soul-capturing pearl fused with her mortal body, taking root in her mortal heart, allowing her glimpses into the six realms and visions of gods and ghosts.

She still felt guilty, remaining secluded in her room, feigning illness until after Luo Wanwan’s burial.

On the seventh day, the soul-guiding emissaries came to lead her soul away.

At this scene, she completely broke down: “Stop! Please stop! Everything was my doing. I beg you, don’t continue!”

Cui Wan’ning’s pleas did not earn a glance from Yan Jinglou. Seeing her crawl to his feet in an attempt to block him, Yan Jinglou kicked her away in disgust. “Of course I will continue watching. I want to see just how vile your actions have been.”

In the scroll, Luo Wanwan’s soul left her body. By some strange twist of fate, Cui Wan’ning stepped outside.

The soul-guiding emissary saw the soul-capturing pearl within her and clearly perceived her greed. Thus, they tempted her with a sinister and malicious deal—

In exchange for five hundred years of life, Luo Wanwan’s soul would remain scattered, forever trapped in the animal realm.

Thus, a wisp of Luo Wanwan’s soul was left wandering, while she embarked on an endless cycle of reincarnation.

Watching the dispersed soul of the girl in the scroll, his head throbbed painfully. Finally losing his composure, he cried out, trying to grasp her.

Yan Jinglou knelt on the ground, his back arched. Waves of metallic taste surged up his throat, but he forced down the gushing blood, eyes wide open as he watched her vanish before him.

Luo Wanwan... was gone.

Cui Wan’ning was originally mortal, born with a mundane root unable to wield the power of the soul-capturing pearl. She did not become a deity, nor achieve immortality. The lifespan she traded resulted in each of her lives being short, her fortune restricted, ending at most by thirty due to illness.

Cui Wan’ning knew she had been deceived by those two soul-guiding emissaries. They wanted not her lifespan but her fortune. She even believed this was her retribution for harming Luo Wanwan.

After a hundred lifetimes of reincarnation, a turning point finally arrived. Through countless rebirths, the soul-capturing pearl transformed into a seed, sprouted, and eventually became the Soul-Luring Flower, granting her the immortality she had longed for.

But it was never truly hers.

Her blood could not bear the weight of the flower. It drained her vitality, weakening her day by day. Soon, the flower would completely consume her.

Cui Wan’ning thought, this originally belonged to Luo Wanwan. Perhaps finding Luo Wanwan again and stealing her heart’s blood once more would end everything...

Therefore, when brought back to Yin Zhou by Yan Jinglou and seeing Sang Li for the first time, the gentle hum of the Soul-Luring Flower told her—she was Luo Wanwan.

Cui Wan’ning’s fingers dug fiercely into the ground, large tears silently smashing onto her hand, smearing the bloodstains.

The scroll slowly faded amidst her sobs.

The bell clattered to the ground beside them, yet none of the three present made a move to pick it up.

Yan Jinglou seemed still lost in that illusory dream. Though his body had withdrawn, those images were indelibly etched into his mind. Alongside them echoed Luo Wanwan’s soft, low humming—

“Autumn moon, autumn moon, distant stars in the celestial palace. A cup of fine wine to pray for wishes...”

“My first wish is for the immortal path to be long; may we meet often tonight.”

“My second wish is to know your intentions, year after year evoking longing.”

Did Luo Wanwan already know she wouldn’t survive past spring? Too afraid to hope for eternal togetherness, she dared only wish for eternal remembrance.

He had so desperately wanted her to live.

Even with every bone in his body shattered, even with his cultivation destroyed, he dragged his broken body step by step back to Xiaochong Mountain.

He was naive, naively believing only the soul-capturing pearl could save her life.

Yan Jinglou’s breath hitched in pain.

Closing his eyes, he saw the falling moon, the dispersing soul. He had personally destroyed his beloved, treasuring the culprit who had caused it all.

When one descends into extreme emotions, it isn’t anger or release, but endless silence.

His silence resembled a tree.

A tree withering in despair.

Cui Wan’ning continued to cry, until exhaustion left only the faintest sobs.

Yan Jinglou suddenly realized—he had noticed the anomaly from the very beginning, but it was drowned by the joy of rediscovery.

His Wanwan… rarely shed tears.

Even in great pain, she smiled gently. Even knowing there was no hope, she still looked forward to another tomorrow.

She had said, “My health has always been poor. If I cry every day, Mother, Father, and Brother will feel even worse. If one day I truly depart, I hope they remember me smiling.”

Yan Jinglou came to his senses. He gripped her neck, forcing her to look up:

“Wanwan... saved you. How could you bear it?” His voice was like torn fabric, each word hoarse and strained. “She named you Xiaoman. From where does the ‘Wan’ in your name come now? Did you steal that too?”

Yan Jinglou didn’t know what to ask.

The overwhelming sense of injustice eclipsed his anger at being deceived. His memories of that maid were few, yet he vividly recalled how Luo Wanwan cherished and cared for her.

Cui Wan’ning propped herself up. With the truth exposed in broad daylight, there was no need to maintain the mask she had worn for hundreds of years.

Her tears carried a smile: “Haven’t you seen it all?” Cui Wan’ning mocked. “I was born in the mud, the lowest of the low. I have no regrets about what I’ve done. So, kill me. Repay Luo Wanwan’s life.”

“Kill you?” Yan Jinglou lowered his neck, his eyes seemingly cold with ridicule. “No, I won’t kill you. You repaid kindness with betrayal, possessing a venomous heart. You stole Luo Wanwan’s vitality, tore open her chest. You deceived me, betrayed her. What makes you think I’d let you die easily?”

Yan Jinglou naturally wouldn’t kill her.

He laughed bitterly, releasing his grip: “Now I must thank Ji Hengyu for sparing your life.” Taking two steps closer, he demanded, “Tell me, where exactly did you... put Wanwan?”

It was unclear which words struck a nerve within her.

Cui Wan’ning threw her head back and laughed wildly, her body swaying so much that the red hairpin in her hair trembled along with her.

“I repaid kindness with betrayal? I have the heart of a venomous snake?” She laughed until she couldn’t breathe, yet tears streamed down her face in hot rivulets.

Unsteadily, Cui Wan’ning rose from the ground. Her weakened legs made it difficult to stand, her body resembling a leaf carried by the wind. Yet her eyes were sharp, cold, and terrifying. “And what about you?”

Cui Wan’ning shot back, her mocking smile dripping with disdain. “You ask me where Luo Wanwan is? Shouldn’t you already know? Where she is—don’t you, Yan Jinglou, already understand? How could you not?” She feigned surprise. “Could it be that you truly don’t understand anything at all?”

Cui Wan’ning was deliberately provoking Yan Jinglou.

But an overwhelming shock froze him in place, his spine stiff as iron.

“You let me bully her, even sent her to her death. She stayed by your side day and night, spending far more time with you than I ever did. And yet, you dare ask me where she is?”

Her implication was clear. Sang Li’s fingertips stiffened, recalling the wisp of soul that had been torn away by the soul-guiding emissary. Her chest tightened, her heart skipping a beat.

She had long suspected that the little fox might be Luo Wanwan. As for that wandering spirit...

Finally, the man frozen in place stirred, slowly turning his head to gaze emptily at her features.

His gaze was piercing, filled with incredibly complex emotions.

There was astonishment, and there was regret.

Sang Li inwardly cursed the situation. Shaking her head frantically, she waved her hands wildly. Her voice stumbled: “I’m not her! Don’t look at me, don’t listen to her nonsense. This has nothing to do with me!”

This was bad. She couldn’t stay here any longer to watch the spectacle.

“You two talk. If there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave.”

Sang Li pretended to leave but was seized by the wrist as she passed by Yan Jinglou.

Uh...

This was awkward.

Sang Li tried to pull her arm free, but his grip was like molten iron, refusing to release her.

Frustrated, she finally began to stomp her feet and impulsively slapped him. “Let go! Are you insane?”

Yan Jinglou didn’t dodge. The slap landed squarely on the lower half of his face, causing his head to jerk sideways.

“When she called me evil, you killed me without hesitation. Now that she says I’m your old acquaintance, you come crawling back with that shameless face. Are you a dog, blindly following whatever others say?”

Sang Li was utterly exasperated. Seeing he offered no rebuttal, she forcefully freed herself from his grip and dashed to Ji Hengyu, who stood nearby, hiding behind him.

Under the overlapping shadows, he didn’t turn around, his silhouette desolate and lonely.

Yan Jinglou stared blankly at his palm, where traces of Sang Li’s warmth—and blood—still lingered.

His face still burned from the slap. He touched the dried blood on his fingertips, lost in thought for a long while.

So those feelings of familiarity weren’t illusions after all.

All the subtle details he had noticed earlier were ultimately defeated by his stubborn insistence. His arrogance and self-assurance had blinded him to the truth.

[Sang Li, you are merely a pawn.]

[I decide whether you live or die.]

[Kill her.]

The memory of himself was repulsive—a man who fancied himself deeply in love, yet was the most heartless of all.

Yan Jinglou sneered bitterly, then felt bitterness rise in his throat.

It hurt.

It really hurt.

Unable to bear the pain, he clutched tightly at the front of his robes.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly where it hurt, only that it felt as though his blood, bones, and even his internal organs were being crushed.

“Why did you deceive me? Why? Why...”

His anger finally erupted. Yan Jinglou summoned a sword into his left hand and pressed it against Cui Wan’ning’s neck.

She fluttered her lashes and moved forward without hesitation, meeting the blade and the surging hatred head-on. Her lips parted slightly, her biting words spilling forth: “How dare you blame me? I never claimed to be Luo Wanwan. It was you who brought me back, who insisted I was her! All I wanted... was to survive, to live on this borrowed grace.”

Yan Jinglou roared like a madman: “You killed her!”

“It was you who killed her!” Cui Wan’ning shrieked back. “You knew how frail her body was, you knew her heart belonged to you, yet you still abandoned her to pursue your immortal path. If you truly loved her so deeply, you should have taken her with you, sought medicine for her—not just thought of yourself! Yes, I coveted immortality, I wanted to become a celestial being. But if you had returned sooner, would Luo Wanwan have died of illness? Would I have had the chance to take advantage?”

These words struck Yan Jinglou like a thunderclap.

His spiritual pulse went haywire, his sword-wielding hand trembling. His demeanor was even more pitiful than Cui Wan’ning’s.

She pressed on relentlessly, her fragile neck inching closer to the blade. “If you truly cared, you wouldn’t have let the Luo family fall apart. If you truly cared, you would have returned to Xiaochong Mountain during the chaos, inquired about things. You would have learned that a maid had fled. Oh, and before she fled, she destroyed Luo Wanwan’s remains because she was afraid. Afraid that when the young man returned, he’d notice something amiss and blame her.”

Cui Wan’ning’s expression turned smug: “And guess what? She waited until her death but never saw that young man return. So when the majestic Lord Demon came to take her, she dared to follow boldly, flaunting her power over him.”

Yan Jinglou’s ears rang, his rationality completely shattered. Unable to endure any longer, he swung his sword furiously.

Cui Wan’ning closed her eyes, ready to accept her fate.

The sword’s edge whistled past her shoulder, shattering the artificial rock beside her. Stones tumbled one after another into the pond.

Cui Wan’ning fell back onto the ground in fear.

Yan Jinglou’s chest heaved violently. His face was expressionless, yet tears streamed continuously from his bloodshot eyes.

“You’re right,” he said, offering no rebuttal. “So I will take you back to Yin Zhou. Whatever punishment you receive, I will endure it alongside you.”

Yan Jinglou’s tone was calm. In contrast, Cui Wan’ning’s face was completely drained of color, except for her pitch-black pupils.

Her limbs went numb, her entire body trembling uncontrollably. After countless horrifying images flashed through her mind, she lunged toward the sword, only to be caught in his grasp.

Yan Jinglou gripped her neck, lifting her off the ground while cleverly leaving her barely alive, not choking her completely.

“This lord will not let you die.” He said, “For all the glory the identity of Luo Wanwan brought you, you will now endure all the suffering she endured.”

The corners of his lips curled upward, his smile as malevolent as a demon’s—

“I will torment you.”

With that, he tossed out two puppets. They transformed into chains, binding her entire body.

Yan Jinglou looked at her, then transmitted a message to a distant subordinate: “Take Lady Ningyue back to Yin Zhou and lock her in the Dead Prison.”

The Dead Prison was the most terrifying place in the demon realm, scarcely better than the abyssal dungeons of Guixu.

She didn’t want to go there. Her sanity crumbled, and she thrashed wildly, screaming: “Let me go! Yan Jinglou, kill me! Kill me!” She was terrified, her pupils dilated, her clothes disheveled. Gone was her former composure; she was now a picture of madness.

Her expression was terrifying.

Sang Li instinctively tightened her grip on Ji Hengyu’s sleeve.

The puppets dragged her past them forcibly. When she caught a glimpse of Cui Wan’ning’s profile, that heartstring was struck again. She sneered coldly: “Sang Li, you’ve won. Now that the truth is revealed, you’ve reclaimed everything you wanted. Not only can you reunite with your Ayan, but you also have Lord Tianheng protecting you. Seeing me like this, are you happy?”

Her last words sounded like resignation, like self-mockery.

Thinking of the little fox’s tragic life, Sang Li’s temples throbbed. More than anger, she felt helplessness.

She stepped out from behind Ji Hengyu, her posture upright, her expression clear and serene: “I don’t feel happy. I only find you naïve and laughable. Luo Wanwan gave you so many chances to choose differently, yet you chose to entrust yourself to a mysterious pearl instead?

“Throughout history, the path to immortality has been long and arduous. Countless cultivators have perished on the invisible steps of ascension. And you, a mere mortal, thought you could rely on some so-called divine artifact to ascend instantly and achieve eternal life?” She flicked her lashes. “You knew Yan Jinglou’s nature, yet in your next life, you once again placed your hopes on an unreliable man. Even now, you refuse to repent?”

“I’ve won, my victory lies in fate, while you are destroyed by greed.” Sang Li’s words cut deep. “If you survive, I hope that every single day of your remaining life, you never regret, never regret what you did to Luo Wanwan.”

These words were not just for Cui Wan’ning—they were also for Yan Jinglou.

Both of them were guilty, differing only in degree. The true little fox was already dead. Sang Li didn’t know what she would think if she were alive, but she herself would never forgive them, never associate with them again.

Cui Wan’ning indeed fell silent.

She remembered how, in Xiaochong Mountain, Luo Wanwan often asked her what she wanted to do, what she wanted to learn—whether she preferred studying books or embroidery.

—She had seized none of those opportunities.

She closed her eyes, her expression ashen.

Finally, with faltering steps, she conceded and followed the puppets away.