Great Demon - Chapter 107

Hua Lingjun sat on the overgrown muddy ground, his eyes wide with shock. His spiritual threads had been personally smoothed out by Changying, and now everything was clear. He murmured, “The Heavenly Emperor’s divine power has receded, and the Nine Heavens is in trouble— No.” He shook his head with difficulty and corrected himself, “It’s not just the Nine Heavens in peril—it’s the Three Realms.”

Zhuyou had not entered his sea of consciousness and was utterly confused by his words. She turned to fix her gaze on Changying and asked, “What exactly is going on?”

“I’ll explain later.” Changying’s golden eyes were deep and unreadable.

Hua Lingjun snapped back to his senses and abruptly sat up, staring in disbelief at the Vermillion Phoenix before him. Before his exile to the Mortal Realm, this Vermillion Phoenix had not yet been placed on the Execution Platform. However, from what he had seen in the Turbid Mirror, she was guilty beyond redemption. But… why had she not been punished?

Changying instantly saw through his thoughts and said indifferently, “After you were banished to the human world, Zhuyou was sent to the Execution Platform.” Her voice suddenly paused, and she glanced sideways at Zhuyou.

Zhuyou’s expression remained indifferent, as if this past event was nothing more than dust not worth mentioning.

Only then did Changying continue, “Do you understand? The past you witnessed in the Turbid Mirror’s retrospection was not entirely true.”

“Then…” Hua Lingjun was stunned.

Zhuyou smirked faintly. Reflecting on the events of two hundred years ago now felt as plain as drinking cold water—bland and tasteless. Her emotions were calm; she no longer burned with fury, nor was she consumed by near-madness as before.

Was it because she had truly let go? Or was it because she had lost a piece of her po soul? Perhaps she really had let go, for otherwise, even if she no longer knew anger, she wouldn’t be this unnaturally calm.

She spoke slowly, “A devil manipulated the Turbid Mirror, making you all believe that Jingyi was hurt by me. I was then stripped of my immortal bones and severed from my celestial tendons. Overcome with obsession, I succumbed to the devil on that very Execution Platform.”

Hua Lingjun’s expression changed drastically. He turned to scrutinize her carefully, yet saw no devil markings on her body.

“Jingyi was the reincarnation of one of Guanshang’s hun souls. He had planned everything from a thousand years ago, trapping all of us within his schemes,” Zhuyou stated plainly, though her words sent chills through those who heard them.

Hua Lingjun listened in a daze. “So the twelve immortals entering the Turbid Mirror was also part of his plan?”

“Exactly.” Zhuyou nodded.

Changying noticed that Hua Lingjun kept staring at Zhuyou, unable to look away, and couldn’t help but call out, “Hua Lingjun.”

Despite the throbbing pain in his sea of consciousness, Hua Lingjun turned toward the black-haired, black-clad Obsidian Dragon and asked in astonishment, “You are…” 

His voice faltered. Recalling what Xuanqing had said in the Turbid Mirror, he wondered if his restored memories meant that the ancient god had returned to the Nine Heavens. Could the person before him be—?

“Congratulations on your return, Divine Venerable.” He respectfully knelt and saluted.

Changying lowered her golden eyes slightly. “I am, and so is she.”

Hua Lingjun’s eyes widened in shock. He knew the Fate Keeper’s divinations had foretold the return of two ancient gods to the Nine Heavens. Previously, all the immortals believed one of them to be Jingyi of the Phoenix Clan. But unexpectedly, Jingyi was merely one of Guanshang’s hun souls.

So it wasn’t Jingyi. It was Zhuyou—the one who had been driven to the brink, forced into becoming a devil.

Hua Lingjun suddenly closed his eyes. He had never imagined that so much had changed in the two hundred years he had been exiled to the human world. No wonder, no wonder the Vermillion Phoenix bore no devil markings—she had regained her spiritual form!

Hurriedly, he saluted Zhuyou again and softly addressed her, “Divine Venerable.”

“I am not your Divine Venerable.” Zhuyou shook her head. She paused, noticing the dimming life flame on Hua Lingjun’s shoulder. Sweat drenched his forehead, and he looked as if he were on the verge of death. She frowned and said, “We must send Hua Lingjun back to the human world—this pocket realm cannot sustain him any longer.”

Changying nodded, her hand at her side suddenly tightening. In the next instant, the mortal man lying on the ground was seized into her grasp. “Let’s go.”

Zhuyou raised her arm and swept across the space before them. The scenery changed in an instant—the desolate wasteland of daylight vanished, replaced by the vibrant lantern-lit city of Shangxi.

Shangxi City had long been relocated to the Demon Realm, yet it remained untouched by the slightest ray of light, as if it existed outside the world itself.

The moment they left the mustard seed, Hua Lingjun’s reincarnation was also brought out. Though he didn’t immediately recognize Shangxi City, his centuries of returned memories ensured that he no longer startled at sudden changes in his surroundings.

Now outside, Hua Lingjun’s complexion improved slightly. However, he still carried the aura of a mortal, which meant that the demons and devils in Shangxi City would undoubtedly sense him.

These demons and devils had long been shunned by the Three Realms. Few among them had never tasted human flesh, and those who had would surely remember its scent.

Hua Lingjun clutched his forehead as his sea of consciousness throbbed with pain once more. Threads of spiritual energy crowded his mind, pressing against his skull as if about to burst. He quickly said, “The Heavenly Emperor’s devilish thoughts did not originate from within him. He and Kunyi share both blessings and tribulations, their fates intertwined—his weakening divine power is inextricably linked to Kunyi. If the shackle between them is their bond itself, then could it be that Kunyi has already…”

“I already know. There’s no need to say more.” Changying’s expression darkened as she looked up at the ink-black sky, wanting to see for herself if Xuanqing’s divine power had truly diminished to the point that even his incarnations could no longer be sustained.

Hua Lingjun’s face twisted with bitterness. He clasped his hands in supplication and pleaded, “Please, Your Divinity, sever the shackle.”

Changying replied calmly, “You should know that Xuanqing and Kunyi are bound by more than just exchanged heart’s blood. They live and die as one.”

Hua Lingjun fell silent.

“However,” Changying continued, “I imagine Xuanqing has already prepared for this. If the shackle is to be severed, then he and Kunyi must both journey to the underworld together.”

Zhuyou’s temple twitched as she raised a hand uneasily to press against it, only to see Changying extend her hand and lightly pat the back of hers.

The tightness in her chest eased slightly, and she said, “You take the water of Reincarnation Pool back to the Nine Heavens, I’ll take Hua Lingjun back to the Mortal Realm.”

Changying frowned, seeming reluctant.

“Do you want to overexert yourself and collapse?” Zhuyou glared at her.

Only then did Changying relax her brows, though still unwilling. “Fine.”

Hua Lingjun lowered his gaze. “I appreciate it.”

Zhuyou nodded but noticed that Changying did not immediately leave. Instead, she pressed her hand to her forehead and forcibly pulled out a wisp of divine consciousness.

That divine consciousness took on Changying’s form, but its eyes were lifeless, as her thoughts had not yet transferred into it.

Without another word, Changying abruptly tore her gaze from Zhuyou, pressed her lips together, and turned into a stream of azure smoke that shot skyward.

Upon reaching the clouds, the slender and graceful beauty suddenly transformed into an Obsidian Dragon, charging toward the Nine Heavens. Only then did the divine consciousness she left behind blink its eyes.

Zhuyou was never particularly interested in the affairs of the Nine Heavens, but Hua Lingjun had been brought here by her own hand. After a moment of thought, she lazily remarked, “Since she didn’t remove your spiritual threads, I won’t interfere either. You are a mortal in this life, so you must live as a mortal. Once you endure and overcome your trials, you will be able to return to the Nine Heavens.”

Hua Lingjun still didn’t know how to properly address her and simply said, “Thank you for the guidance.”

Changying’s divine consciousness stirred slightly, as if it had truly come to life, and her golden eyes suddenly lifted.

Since Hua Lingjun was now in a mortal body, he naturally could not see the divine consciousness, so he didn’t look in her direction.

Zhuyou, however, glanced at her and saw the dragon open her mouth to say, “This time in the Mortal Realm, we may not have the leisure to watch over you, and it’s uncertain whether Guanshang will come looking for trouble. I will give you a dragon scale. Until you return to the Nine Heavens, this scale will protect you.”

Hearing this, Hua Lingjun looked around but could not see Changying anywhere.

“No need to search for me,” Changying added.

Only then did Hua Lingjun steady his mind and lower his gaze to ask, “How do I receive this scale?”

“It’s here,” Changying said flatly.

Zhuyou’s throat tightened at her words, and she narrowed her eyes slightly as she looked toward Changying’s palm. There, she saw Changying turn her hand upward, revealing a dragon scale.

The sight made her feel strange—almost as if something she had thought was hers alone could now be given to others. She wasn’t particularly bothered by the scale at her collarbone, but this moment still left her feeling somewhat awkward.

“Take it,” Changying said coldly.

Hua Lingjun looked up and saw a floating dragon scale in midair. He hurriedly reached out to catch it, but before his fingers could touch it, the scale suddenly fell. Quickly bending down, he managed to snatch it just in time. The moment it landed in his palm, his hand was pushed downward—it was unexpectedly heavy for something only the size of a thumb.

Zhuyou saw it clearly—Changying had deliberately let go of the scale, causing it to fall.

Hua Lingjun pinched the scale between his fingers, noting its deep black color, razor-sharp edges, and the swirling iridescent light on its surface. After examining it for a moment, he asked in surprise, “How should I carry this with me?”

Without any change in expression, Changying replied, “Grind the edges smooth, carve a hole for a string, and wear it against your skin. Never take it off. Xuanqing’s divine power is declining, and the spells he placed on you are fading with it. Only this scale can protect you now.”

Zhuyou’s eyes flickered. She noticed that the scale in Hua Lingjun’s hand looked as though it had been casually plucked, with visible breakage along its edge. She couldn’t imagine how painful it must have been to tear it off.

And yet, Changying showed no reaction at all, as if she had merely shed a flake of dead skin rather than a piece of her own body.

Hua Lingjun solemnly responded, “Thank you, Your Divinity. Once I return, I will keep this scale close and never remove it.”

Changying did not nod—after all, Hua Lingjun couldn’t see her anyway.

“Let’s go,” Zhuyou said, gripping Hua Lingjun’s shoulder and lifting him into the air.

Though Hua Lingjun had once been an immortal and was familiar with riding the clouds, his current body was mortal.

As the ground vanished beneath his feet, his heart leaped into his throat. He had no choice but to close his eyes and pretend he saw nothing.

Moments later, they arrived at Qiaomu Manor. Zhuyou concealed her form, released her grip on Hua Lingjun’s shoulder, and said, “Go on.”

Hua Lingjun bowed and headed toward the manor’s entrance. Before he reached the door, Changying’s voice suddenly rang out behind him.

She said, “Your lifespan in this life is still long, but you will die in a landslide. Do not attempt to avoid it.”

Hua Lingjun turned back. Though he could not see the Divine Venerable, he still bowed respectfully and replied, “If it is my fate, then I can only follow it.”

The four gatekeepers stared blankly at their fifth young master, who was approaching in nothing but his inner garments. Then, to their shock, he suddenly began speaking to empty air outside the gate, as if he had gone mad.

There was no one there at all.

After finishing his words, the Fifth Young Master turned to look at them. His expression seemed normal enough, yet they could not understand why he had just spoken to thin air.

One of them finally snapped out of his daze and quickly said, “Young Master, you’ve finally returned! Someone was here asking for you a while ago.”

Hua Lingjun’s gaze flickered. He already knew who had been searching for him. He calmly replied, “I have already met them. They are the ones who sent me back.”

The four gatekeepers were left speechless, silently thinking to themselves that he must have truly gone mad. Well, that was just perfect—word had already spread that the young master of the Su family in Changming City had lost his mind, and now their own, the unfavored fifth young master, had seemingly gone mad as well.

Zhuyou watched Hua Lingjun enter the manor before turning to look at Changying’s spirit avatar. She asked, “Do you want to tell me yourself, or will you show me your spirit thread?”

Changying turned slightly, her gaze heavy as she looked at Zhuyou. “Do you remember the names of the twelve immortals who entered the Turbid Mirror?”

Zhuyou naturally remembered. She slowly recited the twelve names that Changying had previously written on her palm.

Changying asked again, “Do you know who was the one that brought the Turbid Mirror out of the Moon-Watching Cliff?” Before Zhuyou could answer, she had already given the name. “It was Kunyi.”

Kunyi had been the one to retrieve the Turbid Mirror, yet she had not entered it alongside the twelve immortals.

Zhuyou recalled what Hua Lingjun had said back in Shangxi City. “Sharing blessings and burdens, living and dying together…” Her brows furrowed sharply. The truth was already at the tip of her tongue—if she spoke now, she would be able to reveal it.

Changying said coldly, “There is indeed a devil gate in the Nine Heavens. It seems that the gate exists through Kunyi. The moment it came into being, it began siphoning Xuanqing’s divine power. Xuanqing had originally used his power to protect Hua Lingjun, but now that his strength is fading, Hua Lingjun has become nothing more than prey on Guanshang’s chopping block.”

Zhuyou’s gaze darkened, a chill spreading across her back. “No wonder Guanshang only now decided to capture Hua Lingjun’s reincarnation. It’s clear that the Heavenly Emperor’s power has only now weakened to this extent.”

Changying nodded. “That’s right. Before this, Guanshang never had the opportunity.”

Zhuyou let out a quiet scoff. “Guanshang is too impatient.”

“He has no choice but to be,” Changying said indifferently. “If the things Hua Lingjun saw in the Turbid Mirror come to light, his devil gate will be exposed. He’s making a gamble—betting on whether the Nine Heavens will erase Kunyi because of this. If Kunyi dies, Xuanqing will also be doomed.” She continued coolly, “Feeding a devil gate with a god’s body—such a heretical technique could only be performed by Guanshang.”

Zhuyou understood. Two hundred years ago, Xuanqing had already known that his divine power was being drained. He had waited this long for the ancient gods to awaken their spiritual forms and return to their peak. Otherwise, if he perished, the Three Realms would inevitably fall into chaos.

She lowered her gaze and said with a hint of mockery, “Guanshang knew that an ancient god had been reborn, so he forced me into this predicament, didn’t he? He was afraid that even if the Nine Heavens lost Xuanqing, they would still have a backup plan. Too bad for him, he failed to drag you into it as well.”

Changying turned her head slightly, gazing at her in silence.

Zhuyou shook her head. “But I wonder—when exactly did Kunyi fall into this trap? And now, is she truly still Kunyi?”