Yun Ji sometimes felt she hadn’t traveled through time, but rather descended into hell after death.
Otherwise, how could she be this miserable?
Unable to speak, imprisoned in Death Row Prison, without light sources, subjected to torture right before her eyes, blood everywhere, and the only companion to chat with being a severed head.
Now even this head had stopped talking.
This was truly the ultimate hell.
She wondered if three months later, when she went to face the thunder strike, it might just strike her back to the human world.
But these absurd thoughts soon vanished.
Because the Guard actually left the lamp for her!
Previously, no matter how much she shouted, the Guard’s response was always to cook, seemingly trying to stuff her to death with food. She almost thought this was some new form of torture the Guard was using on her.
But this time, she barely made any sound, and the Guard left the lamp!
It must be because her singing was so beautiful earlier that the Guard was moved. This was truly sincerity exchanged for sincerity!
She would definitely sing more in the future, repaying the Guard with resounding howls!
Tears welled up in her moved eyes as she plotted to return kindness with malice.
The Guard had already flicked his sleeves and turned to leave as swiftly as flying.
The Guard thought Yun Ji was insane.
No normal person would carry a human head around.
Much less make themselves look like they just crawled out of a pool of blood.
He worried Yun Ji might go even crazier in the pitch-black environment and start howling in the middle of the night again, giving him nightmares, so he quickly gave her his lamp.
He just hoped Yun Ji would feel slightly better.
Giving lamps to death row prisoners was actually against regulations.
The entire underwater Blood Prison was surrounded by layers of Arrays. Except for a few privileged individuals, anyone who entered would have their cultivation severely suppressed.
Various Magical Artifacts would also be affected.
The Soul Lamp in his hand could normally illuminate the entire Death Row Prison without issue, but due to the Suppression Formation, the light was so weak the visible range was less than two meters.
Even so, higher-ups demanded that nothing be given to prisoners.
However, this order was issued before Yun Ji’s imprisonment. By exploiting a loophole and only giving the Soul Lamp to Yun Ji, it shouldn’t count as violating regulations.
If the higher-ups insisted on investigating responsibility, he would shift the blame to Yun Ji, claiming she snatched it from him.
Either way, he wouldn’t be punished.
Perfect.
Setting aside how the Guard, having shown kindness to Yun Ji only to be repaid with malice, couldn’t sleep and crawled around all night due to her howling—Yun Ji, now holding the lamp in one hand and the human head in the other, first went to check on her new cellmate.
It was too dark before to see the new cellmate’s condition. Now with the lamp, she quickly examined the new cellmate’s injuries.
Like the severed head, the new cellmate was unconscious, with an equally icy body temperature.
Although the wounds hadn’t healed due to the nails, the bleeding had completely stopped.
Given the average physique of people in this fantasy world, he probably maybe perhaps wouldn’t become a dead cellmate.
Yun Ji felt uneasy about people dying in front of her. If possible, she preferred not to share an environment with corpses.
After confirming the new cellmate was still alive, she returned to the Blood Pool and stared blankly at the minced flesh inside.
Her brain must have activated protective mode, as looking at this pile of minced flesh didn’t make her nauseous.
Later, she forgot what she was thinking at that moment.
She only remembered sitting alone with her knees hugged for a while, glancing at the head placed beside her, then reaching out to pick up the minced flesh.
And just like that, she pieced together a hand from the minced flesh.
She hadn’t studied medicine in her previous life, but during her time in the hospital, she enjoyed reading medical-related materials when she had nothing else to do.
Curing diseases was unlikely, but she had memorized some basic knowledge about bones, muscles, and internal organs.
She focused intently on sorting through the minced flesh, piecing it together bit by bit. She soon discovered that when compatible fragments were placed together, they would slowly regenerate. After about ten minutes, they would fuse seamlessly.
The Blood Pool simply contained too much scattered flesh, making it rare for matching pieces to naturally meet. Otherwise, these fragments would eventually reassemble on their own.
With patience—assembling one piece and waiting before continuing—she eventually reconstructed an entire hand.
It was a right hand, quite large, with each finger a full knuckle longer than her own.
She watched the hand expectantly, but unlike the head, it showed no signs of independent movement.
Otherwise, she might have chased after it for amusement.
Exhausted from the mental effort of assembling the hand, Yun Ji decided to take a break.
Carrying the head and the lamp, she returned to the prison bars. First, she sang a heartfelt song for the Guard, expressing gratitude for the gift of light.
Then she lay down to sleep.
Having both a task and a light source, she slept quite soundly.
Yet, for some reason, when she woke up, the Guard had dark circles under his eyes and a grim expression, as if someone owed him a fortune.
He even brought twice the usual amount of food!
“Eat! Eat up! Stuff yourself to death!” the Guard snarled before storming off, muttering curses.
Yun Ji used to find the Guard inexplicable and difficult, but now she saw him in a much kinder light.
He was clearly expressing joy through sarcasm—why else would he bring extra food?
For a drop of kindness, she would return an ocean. Tonight, she would sing ten songs for him!
Without any sense of time in the Death Row Prison, Yun Ji could only gauge the passing days by the Guard’s meal deliveries.
The Guard brought two meals a day. In the following days, she would wake at the first meal, eat, and then work on assembling the head’s body.
She continued until the second meal arrived.
During meals, she would chatter animatedly with the head, undeterred by its lack of response. She talked about everything—how nicely shaped its bones were, how perfectly standard its heart appeared, how tall it must have been…
She said whatever came to mind.
Always ending with the same question:
[Will you wake up tomorrow?]
The swelling and bruises on her own body hadn’t subsided, and her tongue still prevented clear speech. Fortunately, she adapted quickly and had grown accustomed to her wild, guttural way of communicating.
Her pre-sleep routine was singing—from “March of the Athletes” to “Beijing Welcomes You,” and even a few catchy tunes she recalled from trendy apps, bellowing them out with gusto.
Then she slept, ending another day.
Strangely, the Guard appeared before her daily with a darkened face, looking as though he had something to say but couldn’t bring himself to speak. He would stare at her for a few seconds as she ate cheerfully, then turn away furiously and rush off as if fleeing a ghost.
She wondered what thoughts crossed his mind during those brief moments.
The head still showed no signs of waking.
But today, she had successfully assembled one of the head’s arms and a hand, and was attempting to fuse them together.
Before starting, she glanced at the head and asked:
[Head, if I put your body back together, will you wake up?]
As usual, there was no response. Unfazed, she focused on carefully selecting fragments from the Blood Pool.
After an indeterminate amount of time, she suddenly heard a low, hoarse voice:
“What are you doing?”
After such prolonged silence in the cell, the sudden sound of a human voice caught her off guard.
When she finally registered it, the piece of shredded meat in her hand slipped back with a sickening squelch, and she immediately jerked her head up.