Back in the cavern, Su Yunyu had hurried toward the trial chamber with a heart full of trepidation. To his pleasant astonishment, he discovered that his pill cauldron was remarkably cooperative, the refinement process was still actively underway!
It seemed the Will of Heaven had finally stood on his side for once.
Goodness knew how desperately Su Yunyu wanted to shed tears of relief upon seeing that the medicinal batch hadn’t been ruined.
That being the case, with another thirty minutes, the fifth-grade medicinal pill would be successfully completed. Settling his nerves, Su Yunyu patiently waited out the remaining time for the pills to finish.
Shortly thereafter, relying smoothly upon the fifth-grade pill finished just in time, he cleared the trial and claimed the ninth-grade pill cauldron.
Naturally, there was a minor interlude: when he cleared the trial and removed the cauldron, an illusion left behind by the Water-Marsh Immortal manifested before his eyes.
Seemingly aware that the visitor was pressed for time, the projection simply posed a single question:
“When you wield this pill cauldron, is it to save lives or to take them?”
Su Yunyu gazed at the flickering, indistinct remnant soul before him, wrestling with his thoughts for a brief moment before firmly giving his reply:
“To save lives.”
Though it was a matter of saving first and killing later.
The immortal stroked his beard, murmuring softly:
“Good fortune is exquisite, yet the whims of heaven play with mortals.”
The remark was far too obscure. Before Su Yunyu could catch its full meaning, the remnant soul faded away, vanishing entirely this time, signifying that the Water-Marsh Immortal no longer possessed any trace of heritage remaining within this cultivation world.
Offering a deep, respectful bow, Su Yunyu dared not waste another second, hurriedly flying out of the hidden dwelling.
Inside the mystic realm, not a single trace of purity remained; the air was thick and heavy with turbid demonic Qi, forcing him to mobilize his entire reservoir of spiritual energy merely to fend off the miasma and prevent it from invading his body.
111 chimed in: [The forty-five minutes are up, you know.]
“I’m making it in time,” Su Yunyu zoomed away, sprinting straight for the exit. Sure enough, he made it out to the sect plaza just before the mystic realm completely collapsed.
Catching sight of Wenren Li’s barely concealed anxiety, he first offered a reassuring smile before eagerly displaying his achievement to Xiao Shuying:
“The ninth-grade pill cauldron—I’ve secured it.”
Yet before he could even read the Dragon-Heaven protagonist’s expression, a sudden wave of hollowness swept through his entire body. Darkness swallowed his vision, and he pitched forward, collapsing straight to the ground.
“Oh no!”
Before his consciousness flickered out entirely, he only caught the sound of Wenren Li’s panicked cry.
Within his field of vision, however, Xiao Shuying hadn’t shifted so much as an inch.
When Wenren Li settled the unconscious Su Yunyu within the Netherworld Palace, Xiao Shuying followed closely behind. He currently wore a protective magic barrier cast by the Sect Master, preventing the palace’s biting chill from invading his body.
Since Wenren Li couldn’t stand guard there indefinitely, he entrusted the responsibility to Xiao Shuying:
“I have already administered a medicinal pill to your master. Later, you will brew a decoction using the herbs I’ve left behind, and stay here to wait until he wakes up.”
“This disciple understands,” Xiao Shuying lowered his head, feigning a timid, inexperienced facade while nervously pinching the hem of his robe.
The display prompted Wenren Li to let out a sigh, reaching out to pat the boy’s shoulder:
“In the days to come, the only person who can truly remain by your master’s side is you. You must grow up quickly.”
With those parting words, he cast one final glance at Su Yunyu’s pale face, lowered his gaze, and stepped out of the room.
He still had to investigate the collapse of the mystic realm. As for his junior brother… he could only hope the disciple he had taken in would prove reliable.
The moment Wenren Li departed, Xiao Shuying discarded his carefully crafted fragility, lifting his gaze to study the person lying upon the bed:
A cascade of dark hair spilled across the pillow, his complexion was colorless, and his long eyelashes rested in serene stillness. The blanket rose and fell steadily across his chest, and a pair of evenly proportioned, graceful hands lay passively outside the covers.
Just a short while ago, when he emerged holding the pill cauldron, he had looked disheveled yet undeniably triumphant; now, he lay right here completely devoid of consciousness.
Wenren Li had explained that this condition stemmed from a severe depletion of spiritual power after soaking in demonic Qi within the mystic realm for far too long.
Stepping forward, Xiao Shuying tucked the edge of the blanket around him, thinking that if this was simply one of Su Yunyu’s ploys to win people’s hearts, it was undeniably working with terrifying effectiveness.
Just as he attempted to withdraw his hand, the sleeping Su Yunyu seemingly sensed something, instinctively reaching out to grip his wrist with a tight, unyielding hold.
“…” Xiao Shuying tugged backward, only to find that Su Yunyu was gripping him with surprising stubbornness. After several consecutive failed attempts to wrench his hand free, his movement instead provoked a soft, helpless whimper from Su Yunyu.
He remains utterly unruly even when knocked unconscious, Xiao Shuying thought with quiet exasperation. Finding no alternative, he had no choice but to let the man cling to his hand while taking a seat beside the edge of the bed, his gaze measuring Su Yunyu inch by inch:
No matter what hidden agenda you harbor, the moment you finish utilizing your cauldron to repair my meridians will be the exact moment your cultivation and life are brought to an end.
It felt as though I were dreaming a terribly long, endless dream…
Drifting back to wakefulness slowly, Su Yunyu lifted his heavy eyelids, staring blankly upward as he lay in a daze upon the bed.
Strange, why is this ceiling made of white jade? Shouldn’t it be painted with white lacquer?
And why was his bed feeling so agonizingly hard? He distinctly remembered purchasing a memory foam mattress that was exceptionally comfortable to sleep on.
Furthermore… Su Yunyu bolted upright, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings with an empty gaze before pressing a hand against his throbbing temple and hissing in dull pain.
My head hurts so much, and my body feels completely drained, what on earth happened to me?
Lost in a haze of disorientation, he heard the door creak open. Looking up, he saw Xiao Shuying walking in carrying a bowl of steaming herbal medicine.
Catching sight of the Dragon-Heaven protagonist, Su Yunyu finally recalled that he had transmigrated into a novel. Though he had resided in this world for quite some time now, the sense of detachment remained profoundly sharp.
Could he ever truly return to his original world?
While Su Yunyu lowered his gaze in melancholy, Xiao Shuying sat down beside the bedside and extended a spoonful of the decoction:
“Master, it’s time to take your medicine.”
Su Yunyu stared downward at the steaming spoonful of medicine, wondering why on earth no one ever bothered letting it cool down before handing it to him.
Yet meeting Xiao Shuying’s expectant gaze, he found it rather difficult to refuse, forcing himself to grit his teeth and swallow it down in a single gulp.
True to form, the moment the medicinal liquid entered his mouth, a scalding, burning heat instantly numbed his entire palate.
He gasped sharply for breath, frantically fanning his mouth with his hand to dissipate the heat. Just as he was about to accuse Xiao Shuying of trying to scald him to death on purpose, he caught sight of the boy’s earnest, conscientious expression blowing gently across the spoon, causing his words to die in his throat.
Strange, why does this scene feel so terribly familiar?
Feigning the act of blowing on the spoon while secretly curving the corners of his lips upward, Xiao Shuying felt immensely satisfied as he watched Su Yunyu’s distinctly scalded expression.
How could he possibly let slip such a magnificent opportunity to make Su Yunyu experience a taste of the exact torment he had suffered previously?
Scooping up another spoonful that he had blown on just a tiny bit, Xiao Shuying offered it once more:
“Master, it’s not very hot anymore.”
Su Yunyu hadn’t fully recovered yet. Looking at the spoon thrust back toward his lips, judging by the wisps of steam it was indeed slightly better than before, but…
He genuinely did not want to drink any more medicine!
Hastily swallowing that spoonful, Su Yunyu blurted out in a rush:
“Leave the bowl right here; I can manage it myself.”
With him having stated as much, Xiao Shuying ought to take his leave now.
The moment he stepped out, he could simply take the opportunity to pour the medicine down the drain.
Simply perfection.
Obediently setting the bowl down to the side, Xiao Shuying stood firmly in place, locking his eyes unblinkingly onto Su Yunyu as he stated:
“Senior Uncle specifically instructed me to stay and watch until Master finishes every drop of the medicine.”
Realizing his plot to dump the medicine had failed miserably, Su Yunyu pulled a miserable, bitter face as he picked up the bowl. Exercising a quick burst of spiritual energy to flash-freeze the liquid into an icy slush, he prepared to toss it back in one breath.
Only to discover that this ice-chilled flavor profile elevated the bitterness to a whole new, horrifying extreme. The moment it crossed his lips, Su Yunyu nearly yielded to a reflex and spat it right back out.
No, no, I must not spit it out!
The previous two mouthfuls hadn’t registered properly because his taste buds had been temporarily paralyzed by the burning heat; but drinking it down fully now allowed him to appreciate every single nauseating nuance of the concoction.
It was bitter, bitter enough to numb the root of his tongue, bitter enough to coat his throat. It was bitter in every conceivable dimension.
Su Yunyu used the rim of the bowl to mask his thoroughly twisted, agonizing expression, while Xiao Shuying stood nearby, raising his sleeve to muffle a quiet chuckle.
Even without checking the man’s expression, he knew the medicine must taste abominable to the extreme.
However, rendering it horrific enough to cross that threshold made it well worth the effort of secretly dumping multiple heavy pinches of Coptis chinensis into the brew.
Of course, it wouldn’t impact the medicinal efficacy—at most, it would entirely obliterate the flavor.
Clank, Su Yunyu slammed the emptied bowl heavily down onto the table, feeling far more disoriented and addled than he had right when he woke up.
Desperately scrubbing at his tongue to banish the lingering bitterness before swallowing, he assumed a mask of profound calmness and inquired of Xiao Shuying:
“Do we still have any of those candied fruits from last time?”
Ahhh, he urgently needed a piece of candy to neutralize the taste; the bitterness was genuinely going to kill him.
Anticipating this exact question, Xiao Shuying cast his gaze toward the floor, scratching the back of his head with a thoroughly embarrassed expression:
“The candied fruits Master gave me last time were so delicious that this disciple ended up eating them all.”
That was a blatant fabrication. The day Su Yunyu had aggressively shoved a piece into his mouth, he had indeed eaten that single piece, but the rest of the massive bag remained completely untouched. After all, consuming too much of that cloyingly saccharine abomination constituted a literal hazard to one’s health.
However, right now, he had zero intention of handing any of those candies over to Su Yunyu.
How else could he possibly balance the scales against the heavy doses of Coptis chinensis he had so lovingly brewed into the medicine?
How else could he justify the icy-hot torment Su Yunyu had inflicted upon him during their past encounters?
Hearing that, Su Yunyu froze in place, staring at Xiao Shuying with an expression verging on tearful despair.
Good grief, without any candied fruits, I am genuinely going to be tortured to death by this bitterness.
Noticing the crimson flush tinting the corners of Su Yunyu’s eyes and the wet sheen of moisture gleaming there, Xiao Shuying’s gaze deepened. A wave of deep, unadulterated gratification washed over him, though it was instantly accompanied by a faint, nagging pang of guilt.
As if. He would never allow himself to be deceived by Su Yunyu’s fragile, hypocritical facade.
A mere decoction’s bitterness paled in comparison to the torment he had endured across so many lifetimes.
The Demon Realm.
Within the Assassination Twelve Pavilions, inside the Hall of Heavenly Fulfillment.
Crimson banners rippled amidst swirling demonic miasma across a domain of the Demon Realm, housing a stunningly ornate palace bearing a plaque inscribed with the characters: Hall of Heavenly Fulfillment.
Pushing open the heavy vermillion doors, one found towering stone pillars lining both sides of the grand hall, carved with coiling black serpents that hovered between illusion and reality, designed to terrify any mortal visitor.
The air was thick with the stench of blood, and heavy bloodstains remained visible across the crevices of the flagstones. The rustling sound of robes sweeping across the floor echoed through the space, and a figure emerged from behind a double-sided embroidered screen featuring golden twin fish.
Xie Huaiguang, the Lord of the Wind and Rain Pavilion, kneeling at the very center of the grand hall, instinctively held his breath upon hearing footsteps approach from the dais. His entire body locked rigid, not even daring to lift his head; he could only track the movement through his peripheral vision as he spoke in a tone of utmost deference:
“Greetings, Exalted Lord.”
Within their Demon Realm existed twelve pavilions ruled by twelve pavilion masters. Feng Mingye held supreme command over all twelve pavilions; to distinguish his unique status, he was addressed not as a mere pavilion master, but as the Exalted Lord.
The figure upon the dais remained silent. The sound of robes whispering across the flagstones slowly drew closer, until a splash of vibrant red entered Xie Huaiguang’s peripheral vision—a red far more shocking and terrifying to look upon than fresh blood.
Just as a knot of tension seized his chest, a pair of hands reached down to help him upright. As Xie Huaiguang startled and raised his head in panic, he locked eyes with Feng Mingye, whose gaze was laced with a deep, unfathomable smile.
“Exalted Lord!”
“No need for formalities,” Feng Mingye murmured softly. Even after hauling him to his feet, he didn’t release his grip; instead, he raised a hand to stroke Xie Huaiguang’s tense, rigid cheek, letting out a soft sigh:
“During my absence these past few days, Pavilion Master Xie has grown quite haggard.”
It carried the unmistakable cadence of a lover cherishing a flower, yet Xie Huaiguang was no delicate maiden; hearing those words sent an icy shudder straight down his spine, leaving him utterly incapable of guessing what game the man was playing.
Fortunately, Feng Mingye wasn’t someone who required conversational validation. Withdrawing his hand and flicking his sleeve, he pivoted around and posed a question:
“Have you gathered any news concerning the Tianxuan Sect?”
Broaching official business, Xie Huaiguang hurriedly reported:
“On that day, numerous disciples were contaminated with demonic Qi, and Sect Master Wenren Li has been working tirelessly day and night to purge the demonic Qi from their bodies. Apart from that, no unusual reports have surfaced.”
Feng Mingye simply maintained his silence.
Unable to read the man’s expression, Xie Huaiguang remained entirely clueless as to what was running through his mind. A mountain of doubts gnawed at his composure until he finally threw caution to the wind and blurted out:
“Exalted Lord, why on earth did you take such a massive risk infiltrating the mystic realm and polluting the array core? What is your ultimate objective?”
“Ah, that?” At the inquiry, Feng Mingye burst into a soft, light laugh, raising his sleeve to shield his mouth as his crimson robes trembled delicately:
“I am searching for someone, someone uniquely capable of dual-cultivating both spiritual Qi and demonic Qi.”
“Oh?” Xie Huaiguang’s interest was piqued. It was his first time hearing of such a specialized anomaly, causing him to momentarily cast aside his terror and press further:
“Might I ask what kind of person possesses the capacity for dual spiritual and demonic cultivation?”
“Telling you is of no consequence,” Feng Mingye slowly pivoted to face Xie Huaiguang. Catching sight of the man’s lingering dread and instinctive retreat, the corners of his thin lips curved upward into a sharper arc:
“That person is the Spirit of the Three Realms. I intend to bestow demonic Qi upon him, to help his cultivation advance with twice the results for half the effort.”
“I see.” Xie Huaiguang nodded mechanically, while inwardly marveling at how Feng Mingye, usually so volatile and unpredictable, had suddenly grown uncharacteristically patient in answering his inquiries.
Realizing that his own questioning had overstepped the bounds of propriety, a creeping sense of self-preservation triggered an impulse to withdraw. Just as Xie Huaiguang parted his lips to offer a formal farewell, a sharp, excruciating agony pierced straight through his chest.
He froze, his gaze dropping in stunned confusion to look downward. A pristine, snow-white hand had cleanly pierced straight through his heart, and the blinding pain originated precisely from that spot.
Why, why is this happening?
Coughing up a mouthful of dark crimson blood, Xie Huaiguang stared with eyes full of utter disbelief as Feng Mingye withdrew his blood-drenched hand. Desperately struggling to swallow the bloody froth blocking his throat, he gasped out a final, broken question:
“Exalted Lord, why?”
The only sounds he could produce were ragged whispers of escaping breath. Xie Huaiguang collapsed to the floor, catching his final glimpse of Feng Mingye standing towering over him in absolute, imperious condescension. The man’s slender, upturned eyes slanted downward with icy detachment, and his thin lips parted slightly to deliver a final verdict:
“Take your secrets and begone.”