AUOF - 8

Sang Li immediately pulled her clothes tighter, shrinking further into the corner. “Lord Ji, even though you… saved my life, you can’t take advantage of me.”

She was a person of principles; she couldn’t just undress at the drop of a hat.

With that thought, Sang Li tightened her collar even more, glancing at him with a wary gaze.

Ji Hengyu’s eyes were clear, free of any confusion as he looked at her.

The silence lasted for a few breaths before his voice came, soft and smooth: “You’re stinking up the place.”

Sang Li blinked: Stink?

She lowered her head to sniff herself and suddenly realized.

It did smell pretty bad.

She hadn’t noticed earlier, but now she spotted a few drops of monster fluid on her sleeves.

She instantly felt disgusted. It wasn’t just Ji Hengyu who couldn’t stand it—she couldn’t even tolerate herself.

Sang Li gave an awkward laugh, searching her mind for a spell incantation. She then closed her eyes and cast the spell, feeling a cool sensation wash over her body as the foul odor vanished in an instant.

She opened her eyes: “Is this okay now, Lord Ji? Do I still smell bad?”

But Ji Hengyu didn’t respond, his expression dark and inscrutable.

Sang Li vaguely sensed something was off.

She looked down again, and when she saw what she was wearing, her breath caught.

An intricately patterned golden chest ring loosely clung to her curves, while four or five overly long silver bead chains snaked down from her abdomen, connecting to a waist chain and holding up a thin purple gauze curtain that barely covered her sensitive groin area. Below that, her two long legs were completely bare.

There wasn’t a single intact piece of fabric covering her body. Everything that should’ve been hidden was exposed, and what shouldn’t have been visible was faintly hinted at, adding three parts allure.

This couldn’t even be called clothing. She looked like a snow mochi cake decorated with gold and silver chains. No matter how luxurious the jewelry was, it couldn’t hide the creamy smoothness and sweetness beneath.

Sang Li’s face turned pale, then red, then green. Her feet, flat on the ground, slowly tensed, and all ten toes curled inward.

Embarrassment, tension, and shame washed over her all at once.

How could she have forgotten?

What kind of proper spells could a fox spirit learn? Her “Purification Spell” was actually a “Stripping Spell,” and her “Change Clothes Spell” naturally only swapped her attire for… provocative garments.

Yan Jinglou, you bastard!

Teaching her nothing but indecent things!!

Sang Li sat up straight, carefully pulling the thin shawl draped over her arms tighter around her body and using the veil behind her to cover her head, not daring to look at Ji Hengyu’s expression.

She didn’t dare use the spell again, fearing the situation would worsen.

The air grew suffocating.

Sang Li went through every sad event she’d ever experienced in her life, but none of it alleviated her embarrassment in the slightest.

The chest ring pinched uncomfortably, but she didn’t have the nerve to adjust it, let alone ask Ji Hengyu for help.

Yet he didn’t shy away.

His frosty, mist-like eyes swept from her hair down to her toes, lingering for a moment on the silver anklet adorned with bells around her plump, creamy-white ankle.

Ji Hengyu adjusted his posture slightly, leaning back against the couch and smiling. “Your seduction techniques…” His tone paused meaningfully for half a beat, “…aren’t very sophisticated.”

Sang Li: “…”

Sang Li: “…………”

She wanted to die.

Right now!

“Haven’t you changed back yet?”

Ji Hengyu’s tone was lazily indifferent, tinged with a slight impatience that was barely noticeable.

Sang Li fluttered her lashes, her voice small and pitiful: “I… don’t know how to change back.”

Ji Hengyu: “…”

Sang Li heard a barely perceptible sigh.

The white jade fan waved lightly in her direction, and a long robe in ink-wash colors enveloped her from neck to toe, tightly wrapped so that not a sliver of skin showed.

Her clothes were back, and with them, her sense of security returned.

Sang Li breathed a sigh of relief and bowed deeply to Ji Hengyu with both hands clasped together: “Thank you, Lord Ji.” After a moment’s thought, she added, “I’m just genuinely clumsy—I didn’t mean to seduce you.”

Ji Hengyu made a vague sound, his lashes drooping as if he hadn’t heard her at all.

Sang Li didn’t want to embarrass herself further and obediently closed her mouth.

Though the interior of the palanquin seemed quiet, Ji Hengyu’s consciousness was already in chaos.

The red qi burst out impatiently: [She’s lying! She’s seducing us! She absolutely is seducing us, Master! Just let me…]

The black qi interrupted irritably: [You’re too noisy.]

[If I eat her flesh, it’s not your business. Why are you yelling?] The red qi continued to wail. [Master, please agree! Agree, Master…]

Within the wicked soul of Ji Wu resided a trace of an ancient Taotie beast.

By nature greedy for food, Ji Wu had naturally inherited this trait.

Whether it was humans, demons, spirits, or even ancient gods, he dared to devour them all if he said he would.

[No.] Ji Hengyu decisively rejected its request.

Ji Wu threw a tantrum: [Why not? Is it because we’ve slept with her once, and now you feel pity for her?]

Ji Hengyu: [Disgusting.]

Yes, disgusting.

In essence, the evil soul and malignant spirit were another version of himself.

Their three souls were one, sharing all five senses.

In the beginning, when his soul power was weak, Ji Hengyu didn’t mind absorbing external forces—whether flesh or spirit stones—he accepted them all. But now, Ji Wu merely sought to satisfy his gluttonous desires.

If she could provide him with substantial spiritual energy, it might be tolerable. But a little fox who couldn’t even properly cast a “Change Clothes Spell”—how much spiritual energy could she possibly have? Not to mention Ji Hengyu detested the sensation of raw meat.

Eating her was out of the question.

Ji Hengyu suppressed that voice, the calm surface of his eyes masking the turbulent sea beneath.

The reason he kept her around was to see what this foreign祟魂 (malevolent spirit) intended to do.

She had inherited the memories of the original fox spirit but lacked even the most basic abilities. If her methods weren’t particularly clever, was it possible she simply relied on her physical appearance to seek some protection from him?

“Lord Ji, we’re about to reach Xishui Town.”

The group had exited Gui Xu and arrived in the mortal realm.

Xishui Town was located on the border of Ba Mountain, separated from Gui Xu by just a river, and thus fell under Gui Xu’s jurisdiction.

Xishui Town was a small, remote village with only about three to four hundred households.

More than a month ago, the Heavenly Gates had opened here, unleashing countless malevolent entities that caused devastating damage.

Ji Hengyu ordered the group to stop outside the village forest, sending the Demon Subduing Guard disciples to investigate covertly while he ventured deeper into the town with Li Ningxi and Sang Li.

The stone gate inscribed with “Xishui Town” had been worn down by wind and rain, making the characters barely legible.

The gates were broken, and the streets leading inward were completely deserted.

On either side, the stalls still maintained their appearance from before the calamity, but without any human presence, the town felt eerily silent and lifeless.

It was noon, yet the thick fog refused to dissipate.

The air was heavy with the damp scent of blood. A quick glance revealed dried bloodstains covering the ground, steps, and walls. Occasionally, she could spot remnants resembling human remains in the corners.

Her stomach churned with nausea, and she nearly vomited on the spot.

Li Ningxi took out his Nine-Star Compass, its three needles steadily pointing to the center. “The Heavenly Gates have closed, and no traces of malevolent energy remain. Strange—where could Shen Zheyu and the others have gone?”

Ji Hengyu: “Search privately for survivors. If you find any, bring them here to question.”

“Yes.”

Li Ningxi headed deeper into the town, leaving only the two of them behind.

Ji Hengyu glanced around calmly before walking over to a nearby teahouse.

Sang Li hurried after him.

“Wipe it clean,” he said, pointing his fan at the dust-covered tables and chairs.

She didn’t know what he intended to do, but she followed his order, pulling out a handkerchief to carefully clean the wooden benches and tables.

Ji Hengyu took a seat. “Brew tea.”

“…Now?” Sang Li skeptically scanned their surroundings. The place was dirty, messy, and chaotic—far from an ideal setting for leisurely tea drinking.

He remained silent, his obsidian-like eyes fixed on her.

Resigned, she thought, Who am I to argue with the boss?

Sang Li accepted her fate and went inside to gather firewood and boil water.

She had been a left-behind child in her youth, accustomed to rural chores, so this small task posed no challenge.

After boiling the water, she brewed the tea and noticed some leftover vegetables in the corner that were still edible. Her cravings were instantly stirred.

Ever since arriving in this broken world, she hadn’t eaten a proper meal.

As everyone knows, fairies subsist on dew, and immortals don’t require food or drink beyond occasional peaches or nectar to replenish their spiritual energy.

She wasn’t hungry per se—but she craved food!!

Unable to resist, Sang Li heated oil, made herself a large pancake, stir-fried tomatoes and eggs, and prepared a plate of spicy cured pork.

It smelled amazing!

Sang Li carried the dishes and tea outside. The tea was for Ji Hengyu, while the food was for herself. Ignoring him, she sat across from him and began eating.

The eggs were farm-fresh, fragrant and tender.

The peppers were homegrown; though slightly wilted from age, they retained their spiciness. As for the cured pork, it was perfectly dried and far tastier than anything she’d eaten in the past eighteen years combined.

She ate with her head bowed, but Ji Hengyu’s frown deepened with every passing moment.

“Sang Li.”

The sudden use of her full name caught her off guard, making her choke slightly. She stared at him with wide, fox-like eyes, her cheeks bulging as she struggled to swallow. This sight left Ji Hengyu momentarily speechless.

Sang Li hastily swallowed her food, unable to discern his intentions. After hesitating for a while, she pushed the remaining dishes toward him: “Would you care to eat something with your tea?”

As soon as she finished speaking, she remembered something and smacked her forehead. “Lord Ji, please wait a moment.”

She dashed back into the kitchen and pulled a few fresh green onions from a jar.

The onions looked newly sprouted, perfectly edible.

After washing them, she returned to her seat, alternating bites of pancake and onion, crunching loudly. “Go ahead, Lord Ji. You can speak now.”

Ji Hengyu: “…”

For a while, they stared at each other—one eating, the other watching—until Ji Hengyu finally averted his gaze, his lips twitching slightly. His tone was unclear whether it was mocking or simply bemused: “Your appetite is certainly hearty.”

Sang Li didn’t catch the subtle jab and nodded earnestly in agreement: “Just average. This environment makes me nauseous, so I’m eating to settle my stomach.”

Ji Hengyu: “…”

Even the Ji Wu soul within his consciousness chimed in restlessly: [I feel a bit nauseous too. Maybe I should eat some fox meat to settle it.]

Ji Hengyu: “…”

In a certain sense, they truly were birds of a feather.

He took a deep breath, too lazy to bother with the little fox, and sipped his tea sporadically.

Naturally, mortal tea couldn’t compare to celestial brews. The tea leaves had been stored too long, becoming damp, and the water was slightly bitter, creating an indescribable sense of bitterness when combined.

Ji Hengyu patiently waited for Sang Li to finish her meal.

She had quite the appetite. Not only did she devour the dishes, pancakes, and even the green onions, but she cleaned her plate entirely.

“Are you full?”

“About seventy percent.” Sang Li rubbed her stomach and reached for the tea, intending to pour herself a cup to rinse her mouth.

Just then, she heard Ji Hengyu’s smooth, icy voice say—

“Now that you’re done eating, contact your Demon Lord.”

The teacup she had just picked up was immediately set back down.