The bright light suddenly dimmed, and before Mi Lu could react, he was hit by the stench of blood so thick it made him nauseous.

Instinctively, Mi Lu held his breath, forcing down the urge to vomit, and turned to survey his surroundings.

It seemed like he had entered another peach blossom grove.

Here, the peach blossoms were blooming wildly, and at first glance, it looked as though the entire world had been dyed in shades of pink by the clusters of flowers. The branches of the peach trees swayed gently in the air, though there was no wind.

However, this scene wasn’t the least bit beautiful. The entire grove was soaked in the suffocating stench of blood, and beneath the peach trees, thick and sticky blood flowed like a river.

In the bloody water, one could vaguely make out some severed limbs.

Although Mi Lu had imagined countless times what the scene within the formation might look like, the reality of it hit him hard, and he couldn’t stop himself from retching on the spot.

The five disciples from the Tai Sheng Sect who had followed him inside turned pale at the sight, and one couldn’t help but scream, “Where are we?!”

“Damn it! We’ve walked into a formation!”

“Look!” Someone pointed to the severed limbs in the bloody water, eyes wide and trembling. “Isn’t that Master Daoist Wu Qi’s arm?”

The others took a closer look, and their legs went weak, their faces drained of color.

“Yes…”

“Is Master Daoist Wu Qi… is he dead?”

No one answered that question, because the answer was painfully obvious—Master Daoist Wu Qi wasn’t just dead, he was beyond dead. His body had been torn into several pieces, like a rag doll ripped apart and carelessly thrown to the ground. His head, lying beneath a peach tree, was missing a large chunk, with blood gushing out, soaking his lifeless eyes wide open in anger.

Wu Qi’s face was frozen in sheer terror, as though he had witnessed something horrifying before he died.

Drip, drip, drip—

Blood dripped from the peach blossom branches, falling right onto the heads of the five disciples.

One of them raised a stiff hand to touch his hair, only to find it covered in the crimson liquid.

Stunned for a moment, the disciple suddenly turned and tried to run.

But just as he turned around, his eyes widened in terror, pupils dilating with fear, and his face contorted into the same expression Wu Qi had before he died.

“Hu…”

He only managed to utter one syllable before a flash of light pierced through the air, followed by a clean, sharp sound.

His head rolled off his neck, hitting the blood-soaked ground with a soft thud before rolling a couple of times to the feet of another disciple.

Blood splattered across the face of the disciple standing there, leaving him in shock. He stood still, not reacting.

It wasn’t until he locked eyes with the lifeless gaze of the severed head at his feet that the horror of the situation finally dawned on him.

“Ah—!” He screamed, both terrified and furious. “Kong Xing!”

The remaining disciples immediately started to back away while turning around.

Suddenly, Hulü Yan appeared behind them, his black robes fluttering. His long, once-tied hair now cascaded down, framing his deathly pale face. There wasn’t a single drop of blood on him, yet the aura of death surrounding him was so thick it coalesced into a black mist hovering faintly in the air.

He seemed to blend perfectly with this nightmarish scene.

No.

He was this nightmarish scene.

Even though the disciples of Tai Sheng Sect didn’t know about the Peach Blossom Formation of the Medical Hall, they could easily guess that everything here had been conjured by Hulü Yan’s hand.

Only someone like Hulü Yan, steeped in malevolent energy, could create such a dark, blood-soaked scene.

The disciples stared in horror as Hulü Yan approached, sword in hand—the same sword they recognized. Fear turned their faces into masks of terror.

“What do we do?!”

“We can’t get out. We have no choice but to fight!” One of them gritted his teeth. “So what if he has Lin Ji’s Dragon Roar Sword? There are four of us! Are we really afraid we can’t take him on?”

Mi Lu, hiding behind a peach tree, was pale as a ghost.

He had thought that helping Hulü Yan lure Lin Ji and the others into the formation was simply to speed up the process of Hulü Yan reclaiming his organs, thereby altering the course of events.

But now, it seemed things weren’t going as he had imagined.

Why had Hulü Yan created such a horrific scene?

Why had Hulü Yan become like this?

Wasn’t he just trying to reclaim his organs? Why had this formation turned into a brutal, bloody massacre that looked like a one-sided slaughter?

It was like being thrust back into those moments before each of his previous deaths, when Hulü Yan would massacre Fairy Valley in a bloody rage.

Chaotic thoughts swirled in Mi Lu’s mind, mixing with the nausea in his stomach. He wanted to squat down and vomit again, but his recent fasting left him with nothing to throw up.

Before his mind could catch up, he heard Hulü Yan call his name: “Mi Lu.”

“At the Thousands Serpent Pit, I killed that woman, and you said you weren’t angry because she was in our way. You said it was her fault.” Hulü Yan easily dodged a strike from a Tai Sheng Sect disciple and, with a swift motion, chopped off the disciple’s arm with the Dragon Roar Sword, as effortlessly as cutting vegetables.

Squelch.

Blood sprayed everywhere.

The man screamed in agony, dropping his sword and clutching his bleeding stump as he collapsed to the ground.

Hulü Yan closed his eyes, calm as ever.

In this place, his domain, he didn’t need his eyes to sense every shift in emotion and movement around him with crystal clarity.

An invisible net seemed to stretch across the air, threads covering every inch of space.

He was like a spider, hunting its prey, and they were the prey caught in his web.

But he didn’t like this analogy. He preferred to think of himself as a cat, slowly toying with the mice, inflicting on them bit by bit the torment he had endured for over a decade.

As the disciple begged for mercy, Hulü Yan walked over, raised his sword again, and sliced off one of the disciple’s legs.

“Ahhhh—” The man’s scream echoed through the peach blossom grove like a pig being slaughtered.

“This time, too, they came looking for me first. It’s their fault,” Hulü Yan said calmly, cutting off another arm with a flick of his sword. “So what I’m doing… is right, isn’t it?”

With that, he beheaded the man in one clean stroke.

The remaining three disciples, realizing the situation was dire, tried to pull out their magical artifacts to protect themselves, only to find that aside from their life-bound magical artifacts, they couldn’t retrieve anything from their storage rings.

All their preparations had been for nothing.

Having already lost two people, they knew they couldn’t defeat Hulü Yan, so they scattered and fled.

But in the blink of an eye, Hulü Yan, like a ghost, appeared in front of one of them.

Another arm fell to the ground.

“You’re not angry, are you?”

A leg dropped next.

“You’re not going to leave, are you?”

A head rolled away.

His soft tone, like a whispered curse, carried with it an aura of death that could obliterate everything in its path.

The grove was filled with the sounds of wailing, screaming, and begging for mercy, all of which stabbed into Mi Lu’s ears like needles.

The pool of blood on the ground grew thicker.

Perhaps it was just an illusion, but after those five people died, the blood visibly rose, like the tide coming in.

Hulü Yan stood in the middle of this sea of blood, a smile tugging at his pale face, and he walked through the dense peach blossom trees toward Mi Lu.

“Mi Lu,” Hulü Yan said softly. “I did the right thing, didn’t I?”

Mi Lu stared blankly at Hulü Yan, who seemed to have grown taller again.

If Hulü Yan had his eyes right now, he would have seen the resistance in Mi Lu’s gaze.

This wasn’t what he had imagined.

It felt like they had gone in circles, only to end up right back where they started.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.

Something was wrong.

Something was definitely wrong…

Mi Lu opened his mouth, but no sound came out.

What could he say?

Tell Hulü Yan to spare the remaining people? Ask him to give up the chance for revenge when it was within his grasp? Or plead with him to choose forgiveness?

But if he let Hulü Yan continue like this, the outcome was inevitable—Hulü Yan would only sink deeper into the quagmire of hatred, until even the last strands of his sanity were consumed.

A cold hand brushed against Mi Lu’s cheek, and Hulü Yan whispered, “Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Mi Lu grabbed Hulü Yan’s hand. “Where’s Lin Ji?”

Hulü Yan let out a cold laugh. “He’s hiding. Ran away when things got tough.”

“Let’s hurry up and find Lin Ji. Get your eyes back.”

“Alright.” Hulü Yan let Mi Lu hold his hand, seemingly pleased by Mi Lu’s initiative, his tone light. “I’ll listen to you.”

Mi Lu had heard these words many times before, but it was the first time they filled him with such unease.

Taking advantage of Hulü Yan’s distraction, Mi Lu suddenly snatched the Dragon Roar Sword from his hand and, before Hulü Yan could react, shoved his own Bi You Sword into his grasp.

“Use my sword,” Mi Lu said quickly. “Don’t use his.”

Hulü Yan looked down at the Bi You Sword, momentarily stunned.

“The Dragon Roar Sword is bloodthirsty,” Mi Lu explained softly. “It’s said that Lin Ji often feeds it with blood. It’s not suitable for you.”

Hulü Yan hesitated for a moment, his voice dropping. “That’s your life-bound sword.”

A life-bound magical artifact was different from a regular one—it was connected to the wielder’s spiritual root, and once the cultivator’s cultivation reached a certain level, the life-bound artifact became bound to their consciousness.

In other words, a life-bound magical artifact was like an extension of the cultivator’s body. It could be used to attack others, but it could also be used by others to strike back at the cultivator.

No one would be foolish enough to hand their life-bound artifact to someone else. Doing so was akin to handing over their heart.

Even Hulü Yan, who hadn’t fully entered the world of cultivation, knew this.

But Mi Lu…

Mi Lu, not picking up on the deeper meaning behind Hulü Yan’s words, thought he was simply hesitating, and quickly explained, “Though my Bi You Sword can’t compare to Lin Ji’s Dragon Roar Sword, at least it won’t hurt you.”

The Bi You Sword in Hulü Yan’s hand felt as heavy as a thousand pounds. He smiled faintly, then suddenly turned to face Mi Lu.

Mi Lu was startled by his abrupt movement but forced himself not to flinch. He stared wide-eyed as Hulü Yan drew closer. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

This place was Hulü Yan’s subconscious, so he could naturally sense Mi Lu’s small reactions.

Realizing that Mi Lu wasn’t running, that he was quietly waiting for him to approach, the calm sea inside Hulü Yan’s heart suddenly boiled over like water on the verge of a violent eruption.

The waves came crashing down.

Overwhelming.

Crushing.

He was utterly helpless, drowning in it.

An unfamiliar feeling rose within him, bringing with it a scorching heat that swelled and surged, spiraling out of control. The whirlwind of emotions tore down the fragile walls of his rationality.

In this ill-timed moment, he recalled that dream again.

In the dream, Mi Lu had been just as obedient, not avoiding him, and even, whether consciously or unconsciously, had responded to him.

For the longest time, he had refused to accept that dream, trying to distance himself from Mi Lu, hoping to return to reality. But when he was with the real Mi Lu, he realized that desire had already planted a seed in his heart.

That seed had taken root, and its long, slender tendrils now wrapped tightly around his heart.

Every time he returned from the dream, those tendrils squeezed his heart so tightly it hurt.

He didn’t want to return to reality anymore.

And now, he was in the dream. He had escaped reality, and Mi Lu… was the same as in the dream…

Desire overpowered reason, driving him forward.

He leaned in and bit down on Mi Lu’s lips, but he misjudged his strength, causing Mi Lu to hiss in pain and push him away in a panic.

Hulü Yan caught Mi Lu’s hand.

Just like in the dream.

So soft.

So warm.

He wanted to stay here forever.

“Hu-Hulü Yan!” Mi Lu stammered, startled and slurring his words. He thought Hulü Yan was about to absorb his spiritual energy again, but instead, Hulü Yan simply stayed still, biting his lips.

What was this?

Did absorbing spiritual energy now require a kiss?

Mi Lu’s mind went blank. He hadn’t even fully processed the situation when the sound of squelching footsteps echoed in the distance, followed by Lin Ji’s enraged roar: “Hulü Yan!! How dare you kill my disciples!! I’ll make you pay in blood!!”

Mi Lu snapped back to reality and was about to struggle when Hulü Yan had already retreated a step.

Looking up, Mi Lu saw Lin Ji, covered in blood, with disheveled hair, looking completely wretched.

Lin Ji had lost an arm, and blood oozed from between the fingers he pressed to the stump. His neck was drenched in blood, but his face was as pale as a corpse. Only his pitch-black eyes burned with boundless hatred and fury as they locked onto Hulü Yan.

Behind him, Cui Yishuang barely stood. She didn’t look much better than Lin Ji, clearly exhausted. Though she hadn’t lost an arm like Lin Ji, her cultivation had dropped significantly.

She was now only at…

The middle stage of Foundation Establishment?

Mi Lu made a quick comparison and realized, to his surprise, that he wasn’t the weakest one in the Peach Blossom Formation anymore.

As for the missing Qiu Bei…

Mi Lu glanced around but saw no sign of him.

It was clear Lin Ji and Cui Yishuang didn’t care about Qiu Bei. Their eyes remained fixed on Hulü Yan, their gazes filled with venomous hatred, as if they wished to skin Hulü Yan alive.

Yet Hulü Yan, unfazed, let out a soft laugh and calmly greeted Lin Ji. “My eyes, you finally show yourself.”

Lin Ji ignored Hulü Yan and quickly turned his gaze to Mi Lu, who stood behind him.

“Young Master Mi, who would’ve thought we’d meet again in this hellhole.”

After saying that, Lin Ji’s eyes caught sight of the Dragon Roar Sword in Mi Lu’s hand, then flicked to the Bi You Sword in Hulü Yan’s grasp. His expression turned strange. “You two seem pretty close.”

Cui Yishuang glared venomously at Mi Lu as well. “You…”

Hulü Yan didn’t give them a chance to say more. He charged forward, raising the Bi You Sword as he attacked. His raspy voice was filled with the fury of someone who had been robbed of something precious, mingled with the madness of someone about to reclaim what was rightfully theirs.

“Lin Ji!” His voice echoed through the blood-drenched peach blossom grove like a storm. “Give me back my eyes—”

The Bi You Sword emitted a dim green glow, swirling like flowing water. Upon closer inspection, faint traces of black mist could be seen mixed within.

“Give them back!”

The Bi You Sword was sharper than the Dragon Roar Sword, slicing off half of Lin Ji’s shoulder in an instant.

Lin Ji screamed in agony. Together with Cui Yishuang, he barely managed to parry two or three more of Hulü Yan’s strikes before Hulü Yan’s sword pierced through his heart.

Blood gushed out of Lin Ji’s body like a torrent, pooling at his feet to form a strange pattern.

Hulü Yan wiped the blade of the Bi You Sword on Lin Ji’s body, and the black mist that poured from Lin Ji’s body seemed to come alive, swallowing him whole.

Lin Ji writhed on the ground in agony.

The black mist rose and fell with Lin Ji’s violent movements.

Standing not far away, Mi Lu watched it all, suddenly feeling like something was wrong.

Where was Cui Yishuang?

Hadn’t she been fighting alongside Lin Ji just moments ago? How had she suddenly disappeared?

Even if she had fled, she did so far too quickly, as if she had planned it all in advance.

Something wasn’t right!

Why would Lin Ji and Cui Yishuang show up to fight Hulü Yan, knowing full well it was a suicide mission? It didn’t make sense for them to engage Hulü Yan only to run away after a few moves.

They weren’t the type to make such foolish decisions.

There must be a conspiracy at play!

Panic surged in Mi Lu’s heart. He opened his mouth to shout to Hulü Yan, but in that moment, a flash of insight struck him.

His face stiffened as he hurriedly looked down at the Dragon Roar Sword in his hand.

The surface of the sword had begun to glow with a fiery red hue, like scorching hot iron, the redness so intense it seemed to glow.

And the red was spreading quickly from the blade to the hilt.

Just as he had feared!

Mi Lu threw down the Dragon Roar Sword, running toward Hulü Yan as he shouted, “Hulü Yan! Run!”

It was a blood curse!

A signature technique of the Tai Sheng Sect.

When cast under dire circumstances, a blood curse could ignite a blazing fire using a medium. The flames of a blood curse were not ordinary flames; they couldn’t be extinguished with water or anything else. The fire would burn as long as the caster willed it.

If touched by the flames of the blood curse, even the lightest consequence was spiritual root damage, and death was instant.

But before Mi Lu could finish his warning, his eyes widened in shock as the flames exploded with a roar, engulfing Hulü Yan’s figure.

“Hulü Yan!!!” Mi Lu screamed desperately. He hadn’t expected Lin Ji to have such a trump card, nor had he imagined Lin Ji would be willing to sacrifice the Dragon Roar Sword and suffer severe consequences just to use the blood curse against Hulü Yan.

The flames spread rapidly.

Even though there was still some distance between Mi Lu and the fire, he could feel the intense heat radiating through the air, burning his skin.

The heat was so extreme it caused the air to warp and twist.

Taking a step closer, Mi Lu felt like his skin was being pricked by needles, the pain steadily increasing.

But he hesitated only for a moment before charging into the flames.

“Hu-Hulü Yan!” He gritted his teeth, calling out, “Hulü Yan!”

Pain!

Every part of him hurt!

Everything hurt!

The flames of the blood curse felt like they were burning his very soul, charring every inch of him from the inside out, as if countless mouths with sharp teeth were gnawing away at his flesh.

He had never experienced such pain before. Compared to this, the pain of having his spiritual energy drained by Hulü Yan was nothing.

It was like comparing a drizzle to a hurricane.

Mi Lu was in so much pain that he could barely move through the flames. He wasn’t even sure how he managed to take each step.

Lin Ji’s screams grew louder and more frantic, as if he were enduring some kind of unimaginable torture.

Who would have thought that even the caster of the blood curse couldn’t escape its effects?

Even so, Lin Ji was laughing through his agony. “Hulü Yan, you think you can get your eyes back? Keep dreaming! No one’s getting out of here alive today! You’ll die here with your eyes!”

Lin Ji’s voice was broken, his laughter mixed with tears.

From not far away, Cui Yishuang’s shrill scream pierced the air. “What are you saying? You said the blood curse would kill Hulü Yan, and then we’d be able to leave!”

“Lin Ji!”

“Answer me!”

But Lin Ji couldn’t respond to Cui Yishuang’s questions.

It seemed like Lin Ji had lost his mind, alternating between screaming in pain and laughing maniacally.

Mi Lu couldn’t move any further. He collapsed to the ground, his weakened body falling forward.

He fell into someone’s arms.

That person’s body radiated an intense heat, and as Mi Lu buried his face in their chest, he could smell the distinct scent of burnt flesh.

Even though he didn’t have the strength to lift his head, he knew exactly who was holding him.

“Hulü… Yan…”

Were they really going to die here?

After failing to end things with poison, it seemed fate had brought them to this peach blossom formation, only to meet their end after all.

But it hurt so much.

Couldn’t they at least die without the pain?

Hulü Yan weakly tried to lift Mi Lu, but his strength was rapidly draining away. After several attempts, it was clear it was no use.

In the glowing red flames, Mi Lu saw that Hulü Yan’s hand had turned black, the flesh burned and blistered, with blood seeping from raw, festering wounds.

The wounds grew worse with each passing moment.

So this was the power of the blood curse.

No wonder Lin Ji’s screams were so horrifying.

No wonder Cui Yishuang was driven mad with rage.

Yet Mi Lu, though his body was wracked with pain, had no external injuries…

It was because of the Fanbei Robe!

The Fanbei Robe had been protecting him from physical harm!

Mi Lu tried to take off the robe, but before he could, Hulü Yan realized what he was trying to do—and, of course, Mi Lu no longer had the strength to follow through.

Dragging Mi Lu with great effort, Hulü Yan began to move toward the edge of the flames.

The bright light of the fire stung Mi Lu’s eyes, bringing tears that streamed down his face. He forced his eyes open, wanting to see Hulü Yan’s face.

“Don’t look at me,” Hulü Yan whispered. “Don’t… look…”

Those last two words were spoken almost as a plea.

Mi Lu’s throat tightened, but no words came out. He closed his eyes, but the tears continued to fall, spilling out uncontrollably.

Hulü Yan walked with great difficulty, each step backward requiring every ounce of his strength.

His labored breathing mixed with the eerie sound of the blood curse flames tearing through the air.

Mi Lu wanted to say, “Let’s give up.”

It was too painful.

Too exhausting.

But the words were stuck in his throat, sharp and jagged, making it ache.

He wondered, what was so great about this world? Was it worth it for Hulü Yan to fight so hard to survive?

People were so fragile. A simple cut would cause them to bleed, a minor injury could be fatal. Jump from a high place, and it would all be over.

He had been sick for so long, he was even more fragile. There had been times when he feared death with every breath, but after coming so close to death a few times, he had stopped caring.

Rather than constantly worrying, he’d decided it was better to pretend he had never existed at all.

If life brought no joy, what was there to fear in death?

But he had never considered that life could be this tenacious, that the desire to survive could overpower the pain, the fatigue, and the urge to give up, like a small blade of grass struggling to push through the soil.

He watched as that blade of grass broke through the rock covering it, revealing its tender green leaves.