AUOF - 93

The surroundings suddenly fell silent, and even the flickering candle flames seemed to extinguish their will to burn at this moment.

The blade reflected a cold light, and her radiant profile was enveloped within it.

Sang Li gripped the blade tightly but eventually lowered her arm. ‘I won’t kill you,’ she said softly, though it took immense courage. ‘I want to kiss you.’

This might be the boldest thing she had ever done.

With one hand holding the knife and bracing herself against the edge of the bed, Sang Li leaned forward and kissed his soft, cool lips.

He had vomited blood earlier, and the corner of his mouth carried the sweet, metallic tang of it.

Sang Li’s lashes fluttered as she focused intently on his lips. She noticed him holding his breath, and in the instant their lips met, Ji Hengyu’s Adam’s apple bobbed, and his lips stiffened momentarily.

So Ji Hengyu could feel nervous too.

Seeing his unease, Sang Li, who had taken the initiative to kiss him, felt no tension herself—instead, she grew bolder.

Ignoring his uneven, careful breathing, she tentatively used her tongue to trace the outline of his lips, drawing the tremor and the taste of blood into her mouth.

Peony had said that if you wanted to know whether you liked someone, kissing them would reveal the truth.

Sang Li didn’t find it as nerve-wracking or embarrassing as she had imagined.

As their lips touched, a tenderness surged through her chest—it was subtly sweet, making her want to prolong the kiss.

When the kiss ended, she slowly pulled away.

Her eyes sparkled, the corners glistening with moisture. Her lips were redder now, vivid and radiant, causing Ji Hengyu’s heart to flutter for a moment.

Perhaps because of the kiss, his lips and cheeks had regained some color, making him look less lifeless than before.

They stared at each other in silence.

Sang Li couldn’t help but feel awkward and murmured softly: ‘Why aren’t you saying anything?’

Just as she thought of something to lighten the mood, his large hand cupped the back of her head, pressing her down again.

Unexpectedly, Ji Hengyu tilted his neck and crushed his lips against hers. Unlike Sang Li’s earlier gentle touch, this kiss was fierce, like a snowstorm, leaving her no room to breathe.

It was as if he had been suppressing himself for a long time; the scent of blood mingled with his cold fragrance overwhelmed her.

Sang Li’s mind clouded, teetering on the edge of collapse. Her arms, which had barely supported her upper body, lost strength from the overwhelming demand. Her arms wavered, and half of her body collapsed onto him, her palms brushing against a patch of warm blood.

Sang Li snapped awake, startled. She struggled to pull away, but he firmly restrained her wrists.

Even severely injured, Ji Hengyu’s grip remained strong.

His desire outweighed his pain. At least in this moment, he only wanted her to belong to him.

The loss of control caused his already fragile composure to crumble completely, unable to maintain his human form. From his waist down, his legs transformed into a snake’s body. The originally silvery-white scales, now soaked in blood, were speckled like plum blossoms blooming in the snow.

Without regard for his injuries, he coiled his tail around her waist, pulling her close as if trying to embed her into his bones.

Sang Li didn’t dare move or push him away. Her lips swelled and ached from the excessive friction.

Her neatly styled hair, which had been perfectly arranged under his palm, was now ruined, scattered and disheveled. The reopened wounds, exacerbated by intense emotions, seeped blood, sending a wave of panic through Sang Li.

Ji Hengyu showed no signs of stopping.

His eyes were dark red, his breaths ragged between kisses. His overwhelming frenzy gave Sang Li the illusion that even if he died like this, he would do so willingly.

In the end, Ji Hengyu was the first to relent.

He coughed up a mouthful of blood, his cheeks flushed, his eyes terrifyingly clear.

Sang Li panted heavily, greedily gulping air.

Her chest went numb, her lips and teeth aching, her tongue feeling foreign, as if it didn’t belong to her anymore.

She stared blankly at Ji Hengyu, a buzzing ringing in her ears—whether from lack of oxygen or the intensity of the kiss, she couldn’t tell.

When she finally came to her senses, her gaze swept over his body with newfound awareness.

His snake tail sprawled weakly from the bed to her feet, its scales shattered, exposing the raw, crimson flesh beneath.

Sang Li remembered Ji Hengyu once saying that his scales came from a single reverse scale on Wan Fa’s body.

The scales were like armor, impervious to blades and spears.

Now, more than half of them were cracked, and even the tip of his tail looked as if it might snap off at any moment.

Sang Li wiped her mouth hastily, attempting to rise. ‘I’ll go fetch the Medicine Immortal.’

Ji Hengyu grabbed her wrist, his tone nonchalant: ‘These are wounds caused by the Five Elements Thunder Fire. The medicines of Gui Xu won’t be able to heal them.’

‘Then… then I’ll ask my senior brother to bring your master here. He must have a solution.’

Ji Hengyu chuckled faintly. ‘No need for anyone.’ His smile was faint but carried a hint of sincerity. ‘I have my own methods. You can leave now. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.’

Fine by tomorrow?

How could such injuries possibly heal so quickly?!

Sang Li clutched his hand, an idea forming: ‘I’ll give you my tail! I have nine tails—I can share…’

Before she could finish, Ji Hengyu interrupted her softly: ‘The Nine-Tails are connected to life force. I’m not so desperate as to take your life.’

‘But…’

Sang Li still wanted to insist, but he smiled faintly. ‘Go. Let Qi come in.’

Unable to argue further, Sang Li reluctantly left.

Watching her retreating figure disappear, the faint smile lingering on his lips gradually faded.

Ji Hengyu’s gaze pierced through the hall as if seeing beyond it. ‘Ji Xun,’ his voice was cold, ‘You never had a habit of peeping on others before.’

Seemingly coerced by something, the candles in the hall refused to ignite, casting a dim, faint glow on the dragon pillars behind which stood a tall, lonely figure.

Ji Xun stood in the shadows, his long lashes lowered, motionless as he watched the entire scene unfold silently.

‘Come back,’ Ji Hengyu closed his eyes.

Ji Xun didn’t move, his eyes calculating something.

Pretending not to notice his thoughts, Ji Hengyu’s internal spiritual fire was half-extinguished, desperately needing reinforcement. He didn’t want to waste any more of his mental energy on trivial matters. He needed Ji Xun. Even if Ji Xun harbored thoughts of destroying him, now wasn’t the time.

‘Ji Xun, don’t make me say it twice.’

Ji Xun took a deep breath and slowly emerged from the shadows.

His steps were unsteady, his entire being devoid of vitality.

As a puppet born from a fragment of Ji Hengyu’s soul, any damage to the main body would also backlash onto him.

Though they both knew their mutual disdain and their relationship was irreparable, they still had to merge again to survive.

Ji Xun closed his eyes, his body gradually transforming into red mist, returning to the sea of consciousness.

The instant he returned, Ji Hengyu’s chest tightened, the familiar heartbeat drumming in his chest.

Controlled by the Silkworm Curse, his emotions surged uncontrollably, and the karmic obstacle erupted even more fiercely.

This sensation was unbearable.

On one hand, Ji Hengyu needed Sha Po to sustain his life; on the other, he had to endure the double backlash from the Silkworm Curse and the karmic obstacle.

A surge of heat filled his throat, and another mouthful of black blood spewed out.

Ji Xun suppressed his emotions, but within Ji Hengyu’s sea of consciousness, none of his feelings escaped unnoticed.

‘Ji Xun, what are you resentful about?’ Ji Hengyu pressed his hand against his chest, blood staining his cheeks. A thin veil of coldness and mockery lingered in his eyes. ‘Or perhaps, you’re thinking of using this to kill me.’

Ji Xun replied: [I’m not.]

Ji Hengyu closed his eyes briefly: ‘You’d better not be.’

Ji Hengyu was accustomed to betrayal.

His soul had always been tainted and unclean. The idea of wanting to kill oneself wasn’t unheard of. Three hundred years ago, Ji Wu had attempted to kill him and take over his body. Back then, Ji Hengyu had resurrected and killed him repeatedly over many years until he finally earned Ji Wu’s genuine loyalty.

If Ji Xun wanted to kill him, it wouldn’t be surprising.

But it couldn’t happen now.

He needed to cultivate a new ‘Ji Xun.’ Until then, Ji Xun would continue to bear the weight of this heart.

**

Sang Li walked outside the hall.

Qi’s towering figure stood like a post at the entrance. She called out twice, but he didn’t respond. Finally, she tapped him a few times from behind, startling him so much that he jumped back a distance, his gaze still fearful.

He scrutinized Sang Li from head to toe.

Even without firsthand experience, the disheveled hair and swollen lips clearly indicated what had transpired inside.

Qi’s ears burned, but thankfully, his mask concealed his embarrassment.

‘The Master is calling for you.’

Sang Li felt a bit awkward. After delivering the message, she stepped aside quietly.

She didn’t leave, instead waiting nearby.

After a long while, Qi emerged from inside with heavy steps.

Sang Li keenly sensed something amiss and hurried over anxiously. ‘What did the Master say?’

Qi shook his head, unwilling to speak.

Her anxiety mounting, she urged him repeatedly until Qi finally opened his hoarse voice: ‘The Master’s injuries are severe. Ordinary healing methods won’t work anymore.’

Sang Li’s expression changed abruptly.

‘He’s preparing… to shed his bones and regenerate.’

‘What does that mean?’

Qi’s face showed difficulty. ‘Have you ever seen a snake shed its skin?’

Sang Li nodded.

Though she hadn’t witnessed it personally, she understood that some cold-blooded reptiles in the animal kingdom periodically shed their skin.

‘It’s similar to that,’ Qi sighed. ‘Regenerating from bones to flesh and skin—it’s an innate technique of the Kui clan. It’s not an exaggeration to call it a nine-to-one survival method.’

The scars, both external and internal, would peel away with the dead flesh, bone, and blood, granting him a new life in exchange.

Qi’s concern was that Ji Hengyu was already afflicted by karmic obstacles, compounded by severe depletion. Even with his resilience, he might lose control during the process, falling into demonic madness.

Sang Li’s face turned pale.

She stood there helplessly for a moment, then suddenly recalled from the original story that Ji Hengyu had indeed suffered punishment from the Divine Realm.

That calamity had inflicted devastating harm on him. To suppress the karmic backlash, Ji Hengyu sought out Cui Wan Ning, killed her, and extracted the Fan Sha Flower from her body.

The Fan Sha Flower…

It was the Fan Sha Flower that helped him survive this trial.

Sang Li’s mind cleared instantly, and she steeled her resolve. Lifting her head with determination, her eyes firm, she said: ‘Senior Brother, I’ll be back soon. Please take care of the Master in the meantime.’

Qi wanted to ask something, but before he could speak, Sang Li’s figure transformed into light and swiftly departed.

In the past, when Sang Li went to Moon Forest, it was always at midnight, and she would deliberately conceal her presence.

But today, in her haste, she paid no heed to the colleagues who passed by her.

The Demon Suppressors who had intended to greet her awkwardly let their hands drop, muttering: ‘Why is Sang Li acting so strangely…’

Sang Li.

The name immediately stopped Shen Zheyou, who had just returned to Gui Xu.

‘Who did you say?’

His icy gaze, appearing soundlessly, startled the Demon Suppressor, who quickly straightened his posture: ‘It’s Sang Li. She seemed to be heading toward Moon Forest. I was just curious and thought to ask…’

Moon Forest.

Shen Zheyou narrowed his eyes thoughtfully, without hesitation, turned around, and followed after her.

**

Deep within the forest, Sang Li blew a whistle, and Big Eyes shot out eagerly.

She had no time to play around. First, she let Big Eyes hide in her sleeve. Once they were outside the boundaries of Gui Xu, she allowed it to spread its wings.

Sang Li patted its neck: ‘To the Demon Realm.’

Big Eyes let out a long howl and flapped its wings, soaring into the clouds.

One person and one beast sped away rapidly. The next moment, a tall, cold figure slowly emerged from the mist.

He sat astride his flying horse, silently watching the direction in which Sang Li disappeared. Then he transformed into a tiny insect, following her all the way back to the barrier of the Demon Realm before stopping.

The thick, oppressive barrier separated the Demon Realm from the mortal world.

Shen Zheyou paused outside, deep in thought.

He recalled Sang Li’s true form.

—A nine-tailed fox.

It wasn’t unusual for demons to transform into human form.

However, considering her age and relatively shallow spiritual power, the situation became mysterious.

Shen Zheyou hadn’t mistaken the Mirror Demon she controlled.

Mirror Demon, nine-tailed fox…

A bold and unbelievable thought gradually surfaced in his mind. His usually stern expression couldn’t help but betray a hint of astonishment.

If nothing went wrong, the Spirit Clan should have been completely annihilated in that heavenly retribution.

Could she be one of them?

If so, things weren’t as simple as they appeared now.

Shen Zheyou tightened his grip on the reins, his gaze falling deeply back onto the barrier. He spurred his horse and turned to leave.