Beside her, Jingyu's body stiffened. Grabbing the folding fan, he gave a soft hum. “I won't get lost.”
After taking a few steps, he added, “You don't get lost either.”
He didn't manage to finish his words.
The other end of the folding fan suddenly went slack. Song Yao seemed to have spotted something, and she dashed out along with the pale green sword light in her hand.
His heart tightened.
Didn't we just say not to get lost?!
Without a second thought, he gripped the folding fan tightly and quickly chased after her.
However, the surrounding black mist was as thick as a physical entity. It carried a damp, cold, and fishy stench as it brushed against his cheeks, making it impossible to discern any figures just a few steps away.
Just as he was about to call out, a pale green light suddenly exploded ahead. The churning black mist was blasted apart to both sides by the sword qi.
In the next instant, an overwhelming tide of resentful spirits burst into view.
Countless resentful souls shrieked and danced wildly in the air, crowding together into a dense black tide. Their piercing, mournful howls pierced his eardrums like sharp needles, shaking his very soul.
Jingyu shuddered.
Oh no.
Why are there so many resentful spirits here?!
There are over a hundred times more than all the ones we've encountered before combined!
He subconsciously pinched a hand seal to focus his mind, suppressing the buzzing pain in his head. When he looked up, his pupils shrank abruptly.
Right in the center of the swirling resentful spirits, an old red sandalwood grand armchair hung suspended in the air.
A figure sat on the chair, wrapped from head to toe in yellowed, coarse cloth.
Dark brown, dried bloodstains seeped through the cloth, which was wrapped layer upon layer so tightly that not a breath of wind could pass. Only a section of greenish-black fingertips peeked out from the cuffs.
He sat stiffly, his neck tilted at an unnatural, logic-defying angle.
He looked like a corpse that had died long ago and had its posture deliberately arranged, so eerie and sinister that it sent a chill down one's spine.
It was the resentful male demon!
The other great demon of purgatory.
Jingyu had read about him in ancient records. It was said that he was originally a rare beauty under the heavens, resembling a celestial deity, and anyone who laid eyes on him would lose their composure and find it hard to control themselves.
Such a beauty had ultimately married the Emperor of the Tianqi Kingdom. Out of love, he had willingly consumed pills to alter his spiritual constitution, bearing three daughters for the Emperor, one of whom even became the Crown Prince.
This should have been a touching tale passed down through the ages. Unfortunately, the Tianqi Kingdom was later invaded by demons. At the brink of the nation's collapse, to ensure his daughter's well-being and secure the evacuation of the rest of the kingdom, the Emperor actually forced him to stay behind to serve the demons.
He was tortured by the demons for many days, only to receive the news that the Emperor had ordered a formation to be set up to strangle and slaughter everyone and all the demons in the imperial palace.
Not only that, but in front of the entire world, she had even righteously claimed that it was because he had colluded with the demons that the Tianqi Kingdom had met such a miserable end.
He died within his lover's formation, slandered and blackened by his beloved. In the end, he transformed into a fierce ghost and a resentful demon, slaughtering more than half of the Tianqi Kingdom.
It was said that several sects had joined forces, exhausting every ounce of their strength to finally suppress him within the Earth Realm.
What a dangerously malevolent demon!
Yet here he was, appearing in this place...
Before he could recover from his shock, the green light flared once more, slicing through the surrounding, howling resentful spirits.
Song Yao slipped through the gap and stood before the grand armchair, holding her sword in one hand.
The edge of the Bishui Sword was cold and bright like frost, resting steadily against the side of the white-clothed figure's neck, the blade pressing a slight indentation into the fabric.
She stood straight, the hem of her robes fluttering loudly in the surrounding yin wind. The sky full of resentful spirits swirled, howled, and collided frantically around her, yet none dared to approach within three feet of her sword's edge.
The youth's eyes were cold and indifferent. Looking down at the person in the chair, her posture was sharp yet leisurely, her entire being radiating a sharp, piercing aura. “Will you release the people yourself, or should I take them by force?”
Jingyu had not expected her to charge straight in like this, let alone dare to speak to this ferocious, resentful demon in such a dismissive tone.
Frowning deeply, he pursed his lips. His fingertips gripped the coral bowstring as spiritual energy surged from his body. Silver arrows wrapped in flickering sparks of fire shot out one after another, forcibly carving a path through the tide of resentful spirits as he rushed inside.
But it was not that easy.
There were simply too many resentful spirits. As soon as one batch was burned to ash, another would swarm forward to block his path.
He was momentarily surrounded, resisting with his bow in a flurry of panic, his heart tightening.
I must get to her side.
I must.
On the other side, the white-clothed figure on the grand armchair finally moved.
He slowly turned his head. First, he glanced at the sword resting against his neck, then followed the blade to look at Song Yao, before sweeping his gaze over to Jingyu, who was desperately trying to break through the barrier in the distance. A raspy, low sound escaped his throat, like old zither strings trembling in the wind. “Back then, the people who followed me were just as numerous as those following you.”
“And those who were as reckless as him were even more countless.”
His tone was wrapped in an insoluble desolation, carrying the rusty scent of long-forgotten events.
Song Yao sneered. “What a misunderstanding. No one in this world follows me.”
The cloudy eyeball that the resentful male demon exposed outside the white cloth rolled slowly, fixing intently on her face. His voice was soft and hoarse. “I said it back then—you are very much like me.”
“Take my advice. Do not follow in my footsteps. In this world, human hearts are the coldest. No one can be trusted, except oneself...”
Song Yao had no patience to listen to his inexplicable rambling.
Nudging her sword forward, the sharp blade pierced the white cloth, and dark red blood immediately seeped out.
She furrowed her brows. “What are you babbling about? Make way or die. Choose one. If you don't choose, I'll choose for you.”
“If you refuse to listen to me, you will certainly suffer a great loss in the future.”
The resentful male demon was clearly not afraid of death, nor was he afraid of her threat.
His voice was low, and he stared at her with extreme stubbornness. “Don't you want to find a mountain forest and live a peaceful life? Why not stay and be with me? Right here, I will watch over you. I will never hurt or abandon you like those heartbreakers.”
“Do not walk my old path, and do not let others blind your eyes. If you follow me, I will watch over you, and I won't let anyone let you down or betray you.”
A trace of displeasure flashed through Song Yao's eyes.
The resentful male demon could peer into a portion of the obsessions deep within a person's heart.
The feeling of being seen through was not very pleasant.
She said, “I'll count to three. Remember to choose. One...”
Before the first number could even settle, the coarse cloth wrapped around the resentful male demon suddenly expanded, shooting out like countless grayish-white long snakes and instantly wrapping Song Yao in layers.
Amidst the churning white cloth, his near-frenzied voice carried a terrifying obsession: “I won't hurt you, much less abandon you. Isn't it good to stay by my side? Must you ruin yourself on those treacherous people?”
“Even your own flesh and blood will betray you! But I won't, I won't!”
“You are so much like me. Do not follow in my footsteps. Just follow me and stay by my side, is that not good?!”
Whoosh—
A sharp arrow burning with crimson fire cut through the air, interrupting his weeping and howling.
The evil-warding fire talisman attached to the arrow tip exploded, burning the binding coarse cloth with a sizzling sound and instantly severing it into several pieces.
Jingyu hastily rolled out from the swarm of resentful spirits with his bow in hand. His slightly disheveled robes were lifted by the wind as his voice turned cold: “Let her go.”
Song Yao looked over and casually praised, “Not a bad shot.”
Jingyu paused.
Song Yao turned back to look at the resentful male demon.
This time, because the fabric had been burned, more than half of his face was revealed.
It was an extremely beautiful face, yet it was occupied by a long, prominent scar.
Rate on N.U.
