AUOF - 98

The Moon Forest was pitch-black, devoid of even a sliver of light. Sang Li staggered forward a few steps before completely losing her strength. Leaning against a tree to steady herself, the world spun, her head dizzy and disoriented. A searing pain flared in her dantian, burning intensely and forcing a faint groan from her lips.

Sang Li wasn’t sure if anyone would come after her, but she remembered ‘Ji Hengyu’s’ words. Pushing aside the chaotic thoughts in her mind, she mustered the last of her strength and prepared to continue forward.

Just as she took a step, a wave of dizziness washed over her, sapping the strength from her limbs. Her knees buckled, and she collapsed to the ground.

From the silent forest came the low, rasping growl of some wild beast.

The pain made her gasp for air, her willpower weakening. Through the dim night, she saw a pair of blood-red eyes locking onto her.

But Sang Li no longer had the strength to get up.

She closed her eyes, and deep within her consciousness, it seemed as though something shattered. Accompanying the sound was a fierce roar.

—The beast lunged at her.

Sang Li’s eyelids drooped, and a soft, crystalline glow emanated from her neck.

It was a delicate and beautiful seashell pendant, small and exquisite, slipping out from her open collar.

Suddenly, she recalled Ji Hengyu’s words—

[If you need help, blow it.]

For so long, Sang Li had never actually tried it.

She raised her arm, clutching it tightly, and with her last ounce of strength, blew into the seashell.

A gentle white light spread outward in waves, its long, hollow tone drifting far beyond the Moon Forest. With that, Sang Li closed her eyes.

‘Roar—!’

The beast charged toward her throat, but the anticipated pain never came. Instead, a pained whimper sounded first, followed by the sharp scent of blood filling her nostrils.

She no longer had the strength to open her eyes. Struggling to lift her eyelids slightly, all she could see was the golden embroidery on the man’s robes.

Then, a pair of hands gently lifted her.

She leaned weakly against his chest, a faint, familiar cold fragrance wafting into her nose. The scent calmed her, inexplicably easing her unease.

Sang Li knew full well who had come. She wanted to speak, but another wave of excruciating pain tore through her dantian.

A muffled groan escaped her throat, and her still-clear consciousness shattered along with the pain. Uncontrollably trembling, something surged upward from within her. She gagged, bending over to vomit a mouthful of blackened blood.

Within the pool of dark blood lay a smooth, pill-like orb.

The surface of the orb appeared cracked, emitting a faint glow, which quickly faded like a snuffed-out candle. Before she could react, a surge of malevolent energy violently collided within her spirit field. All color drained from her face, and Sang Li wished she could just die.

‘Ji Hengyu… it hurts…’

Her body trembled violently, and luminous green specks began to spill from her.

This was spiritual energy—her spiritual energy was dissipating.

If it were merely physical pain, Ji Hengyu could have endured it for her, but this was clearly the collapse of her spirit realm!

Ji Hengyu’s expression changed drastically as he pressed two fingers to her forehead, immediately sensing something amiss.

The collapse of the Four Realms meant her damaged spirit field could no longer contain her spiritual energy, and as it dissipated, her soul also became unstable.

How could this happen…

If it were just a simple spiritual technique, it wouldn’t have caused such consequences. There were no visible wounds on her body, which meant… Shen Zheyou had given her something.

‘Did Shen Zheyou drug you?’

Sang Li furrowed her brow and let out a faint groan. The intense tearing pain somehow sharpened her awareness. ‘A pill… I don’t know what it was.’

A pill…

Ji Hengyu pressed his fingers to her pulse, extracting a trace of energy from her body. At a glance, he knew exactly what Shen Zheyou had given her.

It was a pill that could only be refined using divine treasures from the Divine Realm. Perhaps realizing her identity, they had used the Pill of Returning Form to destroy the fake Spirit Pill, simultaneously damaging her four meridians and causing this outcome.

Ji Hengyu turned his palm upward, and a mist of ice emerged. As the mist dissipated, a flower as white as a magnolia appeared.

It was the Fan Sha Flower.

He placed the Fan Sha Flower on her chest, and the crystal-like ice flower eagerly sank into her body.

In an instant, Sang Li’s brows relaxed.

But the relief didn’t last long. Once again, her spiritual energy began leaking uncontrollably, exceeding expectations. The urgency tightened Ji Hengyu’s jaw.

Without hesitation, he bit into his wrist and pressed it to her lips, transferring his blood.

The Fan Sha Flower would convert his Fuxi blood into the spiritual energy she needed to sustain her life.

But the rate of absorption couldn’t keep up with the rate of loss.

Gazing at the haggard little fox, who kept murmuring in pain, Ji Hengyu’s lashes quivered. He bent down, pressing his forehead to hers, and softly recited an incantation: ‘Sacrifice my soul, shield her form, shift our positions, merge our spirits…’ As the Star-Shifting Life-Saving Spell activated, faint golden feathers enveloped the two, connecting their foreheads.

At the same time, the spell merged their spiritual consciousnesses. He embraced her spirit realm with his own soul, sacrificing himself to bear the damage inflicted upon her. Such a spell couldn’t last long—once their spiritual realms collapsed, they would either die together or be destroyed.

Ji Wu hadn’t expected him to use the Star-Shifting Life-Saving Spell just to save a fox. Was he mad, or was Ji Hengyu insane?

Ji Wu: [Master, are you trying to kill yourself?]

‘I should have known she was of the Spirit Clan.’ Ji Hengyu lifted Sang Li into his arms and whistled. Big Eyes quickly flew beneath them, and Ji Hengyu sat atop it with Sang Li cradled in his arms. ‘To Phoenix Pavilion.’

Big Eyes knew the urgency of the situation and carried them swiftly into the night sky.

Ji Hengyu didn’t forget to continue feeding her his blood. He had his suspicions, but she had concealed her identity so well. Day and night, they had been intimate, yet he never sensed anything different about her. Everything had dispelled his doubts.

Perhaps Anjing Lou had known her identity all along. For five hundred years, he had used a fake Spirit Pill to deceive everyone, perfectly masking her presence as a member of the Spirit Clan. Now, with the destruction of the fake pill and the collapse of the Four Realms, even the effects of the Fan Sha Flower were negligible.

Something was very wrong.

‘It hurts…’

Sang Li muttered deliriously in her sleep, repeating the word over and over.

Ji Hengyu frowned, speaking softly: ‘I’ll take you home. Soon, San San won’t hurt anymore.’

If he wasn’t mistaken, the treehouse Sang Li had emerged from before should be where the Spirit Clan currently gathered. Though Ji Hengyu had heard many tales of the Spirit Clan, he had never personally encountered them. The Spirit Clan was unlike any race in the Nine Realms, and given their unique status, the only option was to bring her back to seek help from the Spirit Clan. Ji Hengyu didn’t know who else to trust.

Life force was being stripped from his body, leaving Ji Wu deeply unsettled.

Similarly trapped in his consciousness, Ji Xun remained unconscious. With his main body in such a state, he was at a loss, unsure whom to confide his panic to.

But he couldn’t not save her. If the little fox died, the master bound by the Silkworm Curse would also perish—it was an unsolvable dilemma!

Sang Li heard his words, her lashes fluttering but not opening. ‘I used to want to go home…’

‘Hmm?’ Ji Hengyu lowered his head to look at her.

Her voice, barely audible, whispered—

‘I don’t want to go home anymore.’

Ji Hengyu’s heart stirred. ‘Why?’

Sang Li didn’t explain why, but with the last of her strength, she nestled closer to him. Her actions spoke volumes; even without words, Ji Hengyu understood what she meant.

Unable to help himself, Ji Hengyu’s lips curved gently. His fingertips lightly brushed her smooth, pale cheek. ‘I won’t let anything happen to you, no matter who you are…’ He paused. ‘…no matter who you are.’

Ji Hengyu tightened his arms around her, pulling her securely into his world. Closing his eyes, he carefully rested his chin atop her head.

Once, Ji Hengyu lived beneath the sea, often gazing upward.

His mother had told him that above the surface was the mortal realm, and above that, the Heavenly Dao.

But the mortal realm was filled with suffering, and the Heavenly Dao was unjust.

The gods only looked down from their lofty heights, sighing at the hardships of mortals before closing their eyes and turning away.

Back then, he had thought that if he ever escaped the depths, he would overthrow the Heavenly Dao, returning heaven and earth to dust. Only through destruction could there be rebirth—even on the day he met Sang Li, he still believed this.

But she had come to love him.

When she shyly nodded to agree to be with him, he found himself looking forward to tomorrow for the first time.

Ji Hengyu had never looked forward to tomorrow before.

If the distant future held a light waiting for him, perhaps letting go was another form of possession.

‘When you get better, we’ll marry.’

Ji Hengyu desperately wanted to be with her, as long as they could be together…

He lowered his head, emotions flickering in his eyes, his expression cold to the point of cruelty.