Yun Ji seemed to have heard this term somewhere before.
As she was trying hard to recall, the head in her arms suddenly spoke:
“Feng Liansu, your father is dead.”
The scene fell into silence.
Yun Ji stared at the head, taking a long moment to realize it was cursing.
Although she knew the head wasn’t particularly skilled at swearing—always repeating the same few phrases when cursing her, with zero intimidation—she was still shocked when it seriously cursed someone else.
How could it still have no lethality at all!
Judging by the head’s expression, it seemed to think it had delivered an extremely vicious insult.
Yun Ji hesitated to speak.
But considering the head might be defending her, she excitedly opened her mouth, yet found herself even more speechless.
Should she offer encouragement or comfort?
Feng Liansu hadn’t expected the head to speak up for Yun Ji either. His face darkened momentarily, but as he observed the head’s wretched state, he laughed:
“I think you’ve forgotten—you’re no longer the lofty existence you once were.”
As his words fell, he made a grasping motion in the air, and distorted patterns immediately appeared in the space.
Yun Ji had long guessed this world she’d transmigrated into must be a fantasy realm—otherwise it wouldn’t have struck her with eight hundred heavenly thunderbolts.
But only when she heard the head immediately erupt in heart-rending screams did she truly understand how terrifying Magical Art could be.
Dark red runes appeared on the head’s forehead, the characters burning into its skin, sinking deep into flesh and blood, seeping scalding, boiling blood.
In extreme pain, it couldn’t maintain rationality. The screams grew increasingly piercing and feeble over time.
Yet this creature who would cry at the slightest provocation before didn’t shed a single tear now.
Flustered, Yun Ji held it tighter, raising her eyes to stare at Feng Liansu—the instigator—her gaze beneath disheveled hair darkening ominously.
Feng Liansu sneered triumphantly at the head: “Do you still think you’re living in the past? Look clearly—you’re now a worthless waste who can only linger in this filthy place for the rest of your life. I can trample you and your kind however I want!”
He scanned the prison cell, noticed Yun Ji’s stare, crossed his arms condescendingly, and taunted maliciously:
“Despicable bone, want to save him? Then kneel and kowtow to me—do it sincerely, and I’ll spare him. How about that?”
He loved watching people suffer under his humiliation. He wanted these fallen talents in the cell to recognize that he now held dominion over their lives and deaths.
Yun Ji didn’t want her chat buddy to die like this. While pondering how to save the head, she suddenly heard his proposition and nearly laughed aloud in glee.
Was it really that simple?
She directly set down the head, moving without the slightest hesitation, fluidly prostrating herself before Feng Liansu:
“Barking sounds, barking sounds, longer barking sounds!”
[Stinky dog shit, turtle egg, I’ll kick you to the Pentagon sooner or later!]
Her kneeling was sincere, her cursing equally heartfelt.
Feng Liansu: ?
He suspiciously turned to the Guard beside him: “What is she saying?”
The Guard’s expressionless face immediately plastered itself with fawning smiles when Feng Liansu looked over:
“Sir, she’s apologizing to you! She also compliments your dashing elegance, saying you’re like a deity descended from heaven!”
Feng Liansu raised an eyebrow, surprised Yun Ji knew her place so well, and felt satisfied.
He made another grasping motion in the air. The curse marks vanished, and the head quieted down.
Yun Ji hurriedly picked up the head, noticing his tightly shut eyes, bleeding forehead, and sweat-drenched face—he had already lost consciousness.
To prevent Feng Liansu from causing more trouble, she immediately retreated to a corner with the head, avoiding any further contact with him.
After tending to the head’s injuries, she belatedly realized the cell had grown much brighter.
A bird-like creature, radiating a blazing white light like a miniature sun, had appeared beside Feng Liansu at some point, illuminating the entire cell.
With the light source, Yun Ji could finally see the cell’s structure clearly.
The cell was spacious, not the typical square shape she had imagined, but more like a trapezoid. The walls on either side of the bars were tall and smooth, slanting outward. Even with the light, she could barely make out the far end.
The walls were stained with dark bloodstains. Looking along the left wall, she spotted a sunken pool filled with what appeared to be meat—crimson and piled high, the dense chunks making her scalp tingle at a glance.
Near the inner side of the right wall stood a peculiarly shaped object resembling a small cauldron.
As she examined the cauldron, her peripheral vision caught a shadow squirming across the floor. Startled, she looked closer but saw nothing.
Her gaze finally settled on the brightest spot.
Feng Liansu and the Guard stood there.
Before them rose a cylindrical stone pillar, tall enough to connect the floor to the ceiling.
Upon closer inspection, the pillar was carved with densely packed characters of varying sizes, reflecting a gray-blue glow under the light.
A blood-soaked man was pinned to the pillar.
His hair was disheveled, head hanging low, and his robe was drenched in blood, its original color unrecognizable.
Feng Liansu seemed about to taunt him, but as soon as he opened his mouth, the pinned man snapped impatiently:
“Are you so full you’ve grown sores on your tongue or been possessed by a toad? Shut your stinking mouth—it reeks. Hurry up and do what you need to, and see a vet while you’re at it.”
Yun Ji blinked and couldn’t resist tugging the head’s ear.
Quick, learn from him!
The head remained unconscious, unresponsive.
Feng Liansu’s previously amused expression instantly darkened.
He rapidly chanted an incantation, and the nails piercing the man’s body began to inch outward, tearing through flesh and splattering fresh blood onto the already blackened floor.
Each nail was as long as a forearm. At a glance, the man had at least twenty or thirty nails driven into him.
Feng Liansu wasn’t removing them to save him—after pulling out the old nails, he promptly replaced them with new ones, hammering them back in viciously.
Dissatisfied with the man’s silence, Feng Liansu worked brutally, sometimes deliberately missing the mark, only satisfied when the pinned man trembled in agony, then laughing heartily.
Just watching Feng Liansu torment the man from a distance made Yun Ji grimace, her own body aching sympathetically.
After finishing with the nails, Feng Liansu admired his handiwork with satisfaction. But recalling the earlier insult, his face darkened again, and he seemed eager to continue the torture.
The Guard appeared to want to say something but, glancing at Feng Liansu’s expression, swallowed his words.
Unfortunately, Yun Ji chose that moment to sneeze.
Seeing Feng Liansu look over, she immediately switched to a trembling, terrified demeanor, gazing at him with exaggerated reverence.
She felt no shame about this—she’d even kowtow again if needed.
Dignity only existed where blades pointed. Since she was already in the Death Row Prison, why care about dignity? Survival mattered most.
This act clearly pleased Feng Liansu. Noticing his softened expression, the Guard seized the opportunity to speak: “Sir, it’s getting late. Weren’t you supposed to visit the Heavenly Sword Sect…”
Reminded by this, Feng Liansu recalled he’d nearly forgotten important business.
He stopped looking at the prisoners and strode out of the cell with the Guard.
The glowing bird naturally followed him out. As the cell door closed with a thud, their vision gradually returned to darkness.
Once Feng Liansu withdrew his gaze, Yun Ji’s expression vanished completely. She merely tilted her head to glance at the person Feng Liansu had been torturing, wondering if this cellmate was still alive.
Unexpectedly, the moment she looked over, the prisoner who had shown little reaction despite the torment suddenly lifted his eyes.
She instantly met a pair of profoundly dark, abyssal pupils.
But before she could discern any emotion in them, darkness had already reclaimed her vision.