“Cough—”
Ye Chuan hit the ground again, the impact sharp enough to rattle his bones. For a moment, it seemed he would vomit blood, yet what spilled from his mouth was only a mouthful of black smoke.
He raised his head, meeting Mu Sui’s cold, restrained gaze. That killing intent—chilling and pure—froze him for an instant. But the next moment, his eyes shifted and caught sight of Meng Ruji standing nearby.
She was only looking at Mu Sui. Not him.
Surprise flashed in her eyes, not for his plight, but for Mu Sui’s strength in subduing him.
Humiliation surged through Ye Chuan’s chest, burning hotter than pain. The sting of emotion far exceeded the agony of his battered body.
With a sudden, desperate force, he gripped Mu Sui’s wrists. This time, the black smoke no longer gathered from the surroundings—it poured straight from within Ye Chuan himself.
The whites of his eyes turned black, swallowed entirely by shadow. The smoke erupted like oil-fed flames, flaring with a hiss as it surged toward Mu Sui’s body.
The air thickened with malevolence.
Meng Ruji’s voice cut sharply through the haze: “Something’s wrong with him! Let go, quickly!”
Mu Sui saw it too, but he didn’t flinch. His expression was calm, almost indifferent. These smoky flames—he didn’t take them seriously. He only wanted to end this swiftly.
Yet when Meng Ruji stepped forward, reaching to pull him away, the danger changed. The black flames crawling along Mu Sui’s arm began to stretch toward her as well.
His face hardened. He instantly released Ye Chuan and kicked him back with one clean strike.
Ye Chuan rolled down the hillside, leaving streaks of black behind.
Mu Sui brushed the flickering flames from his sleeves, then turned to Meng Ruji. Seeing her unharmed, he exhaled lightly, though his voice came cold: “You just arrived in the Realm of No Return. If you don’t understand something, don’t interfere.”
Meng Ruji raised a brow. “You’re so certain I don’t understand?”
She rubbed her fingertips together—she had touched some of that black smoke when she pulled him earlier. It didn’t burn. Instead, it seeped under her skin, sparking a killing urge deep in her chest.
Mu Sui’s expression shifted slightly. “You’ve encountered malevolent aura before?”
“This is a malevolent aura?” Meng Ruji’s tone was even. “No wonder he could control your rabbit without silver coins as a medium.”
Mu Sui’s eyes chilled. “Don’t entertain thoughts about this aura. It doesn’t serve good. It only corrupts.”
Meng Ruji rolled her eyes. “What kind of person do you think I am? Someone who’d grasp any power just to earn a few silver coins in this wasteland?”
Her gaze turned distant. “I’m just surprised. I didn’t expect such a thing to exist here too.”
Her voice lowered, a cold glint threading through her words. “I’ve suffered a great loss because of it.”
Mu Sui’s hands tightened at his sides, faint surprise flickering in his eyes.
Meng Ruji didn’t look at him. Her attention was drawn downhill—
Ye Chuan had risen again. The malevolent aura boiled around him like black fire, cloaking his entire body. His eyes were pits of darkness, no whites left, only endless shadow.
With every step he took, the grass and trees shriveled, life drained from them in an instant. Behind him, the illusory realm began to crumble—the sky collapsing, color and light devoured by spreading black flames.
The world itself burned away like a painted scroll caught in fire.
Darkness swallowed all.
Ye Chuan lifted his arm, black flames swirling into his palm.
Mu Sui stepped in front of Meng Ruji again. His sleeve flicked, fingers forming quick seals—but before he could release them, a warm hand slipped around his waist from behind, palm pressing firmly against his abdomen, at his dantian.
The heat startled him. “Mountain Lord Meng?”
Meng Ruji’s voice came softly, steady against the chaos: “I told you—I’ve dealt with malevolent aura before. I know how to handle it. Do you trust me?”
Between them had been suspicion and countless veiled schemes. Trust was a word long foreign to either of them.
Mu Sui’s tone was cool. “In the Realm of No Return, without silver coins, no one can channel spiritual power.”
“I know.” Meng Ruji’s breath brushed his shoulder, warm as a whisper. “But this malevolent aura can break the rule. If it’s an exception, maybe my Inner Core will be one too.”
“Then you’re gambling.”
“Then, Qianshan Jun,” she murmured, pressing lightly against his dantian, “are you willing to gamble with me?”
He turned slightly. Her face was close—her lips near his shoulder, her words half-playful, half solemn. For an instant, he thought of the first time he saw her.
Encased in frost. Eyes closed, expression tranquil, yet radiating divinity.
Though heaven had long since severed ties with mortals, that day, he had glimpsed a god again.
And now, that same distant grandeur shimmered in her eyes.
“Besides,” Meng Ruji continued, “didn’t you want to learn how to use the Inner Core?”
Mu Sui’s brows lifted faintly.
“Look ahead,” she said. “Calm your heart. I’ll help you move its power. Let’s hope luck is on our side—and that we survive this gamble.”
Her breath grazed his skin, soft warmth against the cold of battle.
Then the heat vanished from his shoulder—only to flare more intensely where her palm met his core.
He could have pulled away. He could have ignored her.
But as Ye Chuan’s black flames roared toward them, Mu Sui stood still.
“Qi follows the heart’s movement; technique follows the rise of intent,” Meng Ruji intoned quietly. Her voice flowed like water through a ravine.
Mu Sui felt something stir within him—an unseen spring bubbling to life in his dantian. Power flooded his meridians, forming a faint, luminous barrier that wrapped around them both.
The malevolent smoke slammed against it, hissing like waves against stone.
He risked a glance back.
Meng Ruji’s face was calm. A trace of a smile curved her lips. “You see, little Sui,” she whispered, “we won the gamble.”
That smile…
It shouldn’t have shaken him. Yet he heard his own heartbeat, loud and unsteady.
He turned his gaze away, blaming the strange energy linking their bodies. But he couldn’t deny what coursed through him now—
Spiritual power. Flowing. Alive.
It wasn’t the force he once knew. This Inner Core—her Inner Core—carried a warmth unlike his own energy, gentle yet firm.
Like her touch.
Soothing the restlessness buried in him for centuries.
Since the Nai River incident, since regaining his memories, he had suppressed all longing for her touch. But in this moment, with death and darkness closing in, that restraint cracked.
The light surrounding them grew brighter. The barrier, instead of weakening under the assault, expanded—half a sphere of radiance pushing back the dark.
Ye Chuan faltered. His face blanched, drained of color.
“Mu Sui,” Meng Ruji said, her tone sharpening, “we can’t drag this out. If we delay, he’ll die. Feel the aura inside you—”
Before she finished, Mu Sui raised his hand.
White light gathered, condensing into an arrow within the shimmering barrier. He released it.
The arrow flew like lightning, piercing straight through the sea of malevolent aura. The air howled around it, sweeping away the black mist as it struck Ye Chuan’s chest.
The impact shattered the darkness.
The world’s colors returned—the slope, the sky, the dying trees—everything reformed from ruin.
Ye Chuan collapsed on the ground, body trembling, his breath shallow.
Meng Ruji knew the strike hadn’t been fatal. Mu Sui hadn’t killed him—he’d purified him.
She released her hold on Mu Sui and stepped forward to check on Ye Chuan.
Mu Sui’s fingers twitched as her touch left him. He resisted the urge to pull her hand back.
“Impressive,” Meng Ruji murmured without turning. “You grasped the technique instantly. I hadn’t even explained it yet.”
Mu Sui lowered his gaze to his own palm. “Feeling the spiritual power was enough to use it.” His tone was cool. “Didn’t you promise to teach me how to use the Inner Core? Why only guide, not teach?”
Meng Ruji touched her nose, pretending to ponder. “Guiding is teaching, isn’t it?”
“Then teach me how to guide it out.”
“This…” Her lips quirked. “Comes naturally. Born from emotion, restrained by propriety. There’s no real trick—I just… used it.”
Mu Sui stared at her nonsense, silent for a beat. Instead of arguing, he looked toward Ye Chuan. “He’s awake.”
Ye Chuan’s eyes fluttered open. The darkness within them had faded, leaving only exhaustion.
“Qianshan Jun didn’t kill him,” Meng Ruji remarked, her voice light. “Merciful, aren’t you?”
He folded his arms, watching her. “Isn’t that what you wanted? To save, not slay? Mountain Lord Meng—perhaps you were never meant to be Demon Lord. You’d make a fine Bodhisattva.”
Meng Ruji smiled faintly. “I have my scale. When it’s time to kill, I’ve never been soft.”
She passed him, walking toward Ye Chuan.
Mu Sui’s gaze lingered on her retreating figure. The glow of power had already vanished from his body, leaving only stillness. His expression darkened slightly, thoughts unreadable.
Ye Chuan lay disheveled, his robes in tatters, hair tangled with dirt. He tried to rise, but his limbs were weak, refusing to obey.
It felt like years ago—when he’d been framed, humiliated, and left alone in despair.
Footsteps approached. Not hurried, not gentle, just steady—like before.
Meng Ruji stopped before him and crouched down.
“Stop lying there.”
Ye Chuan lifted his head.
Her face was calm, emotion unreadable. No pity. No contempt. Only quiet command.
“…Get up.”
Perhaps, back then, it hadn’t been salvation he received. Not mercy, nor coincidence.
Perhaps it had been this same calm—this same unyielding tone.
Ye Chuan pushed himself upright, first kneeling, then sitting straight. He stared down at his own hands for a long time.
“So many years…” His voice was low, clear. “It feels like a dream of Nanke.”
Peace replaced the turmoil in his gaze. “Now, it seems the dream has ended.”
As his words faded, the illusion melted away—slope, trees, earth—all dissolving into mist.
The world awakened from its dream.
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