Chapter 40 (Part 1)

Yu Zhengzheng’s eyes blazed with fury. Unable to hold back, she grabbed the vase on the table and swung it toward Hengwu Xianjun’s head.

Hengwu Xianjun, his white-clad eyes calm, caught the vase by its neck with ease.

“Little girl, you should know your limits. With your skills, you’re far from being able to hit me—”

Before he could finish, Yu Zhengzheng delivered a swift kick to his groin.

Caught off guard, his legs instinctively clamped together as he curled inward.

She had kicked with full force, and whether she had struck a vital area was unclear, but his face turned deathly pale in an instant.

The vase slipped from his grasp, shattering on the ground with a crisp sound. Amidst the shards, something small and round seemed to have broken along with it.

Xianjun Hengwu’s contorted expression vividly portrayed the phrase “a double loss.” His fingers curled like chicken claws as he trembled, squeezing out words between gritted teeth: “You’re despicable! Attacking by surprise…”

Yu Zhengzheng smiled. “Oh, you flatter me, Xianjun. My despicableness doesn’t even come close to one-tenth of yours. Unlike you, who layers deceit like an old sow wearing a bra—one scheme after another. Has no one ever told you not to provoke a woman repeatedly?”

Of course not. Xianjun Hengwu had never encountered a woman as fierce as her.

The celestial maidens in the Heavenly Realm were all gentle and delicate, while the demonesses of the Demon Realm exuded seductive charm. All of them sought to please him; not a single one dared to lay a hand—or a foot—on him.

“What kind of bizarre fetish do you have? Drinking something you know is drugged, harming both yourself and others—you’re utterly insane!”

Yu Zhengzheng, her face flushed with anger, gave him another kick in her frustration. “You better tell me how to fix this, or you can forget about ever standing upright again.”

The phrase “forget about standing upright” carried a palpable threat. Xianjun Hengwu felt a certain tightness somewhere and, already pale, seemed to grow even weaker.

He looked aggrieved. He hadn’t forced anyone to drink the drugged deer blood—how had this become his fault?

In the first illusion, he had abstained from eating altogether. The second illusion only offered deer blood to replenish strength. The third illusion lacked any food.

Was he supposed to starve himself just because of a little drug in the deer blood? It wasn’t a big deal—manual “relief” wasn’t too difficult.

Who would have thought they’d all overreact? Seeing him drink the deer blood, they had followed suit, as if he had orchestrated this mess intentionally.

Xianjun Hengwu glanced at Shanshui, who sat silently in a corner. Something unpleasant must have happened earlier, judging by her sour expression. She had also drunk the deer blood, albeit in smaller amounts, but if she didn’t deal with it soon, trouble would ensue.

He could take care of himself, but what about her? A young lady couldn’t possibly resort to such methods.

Xianjun Hengwu hesitated briefly before dismissing the thought—wasn’t Xiang Feng supposed to look after her? Why should he worry?

Yet Xiang Feng was still nowhere to be found.

Sitting unsteadily on a chaise lounge, he pointed at Rong Shang. “Look, there’s your antidote.”

Yu Zhengzheng: “…”

“What’s there to be embarrassed about?” Xianjun Hengwu raised an eyebrow, casting a sidelong glance at Rong Shang with a faint smirk. “You’re like an old married couple—haven’t you already done everything there is to do? Consider this practice to hone your skills.”

Rong Shang held a slender ice shard in his palm, its cool surface catching the moonlight as it cast a soft glow on his sculpted features. His crimson lips glinted coldly as his fingers lightly traced the shard.

Initially prepared to hurl the shard, his hand stilled when he heard the words “old married couple,” and the shard rested once more in his palm.

Speaking of couples… if she were to marry someone in the future, what kind of person would her husband be? Handsome and dashing? Upright and impressive? Or perhaps an extraordinary talent with a flawless demeanor?

Wait… wasn’t that all a description of him?

Rong Shang froze, narrowing his long eyes slightly.

What nonsense was he thinking? She had seen everything about him—everything that should and shouldn’t be seen.

And she wanted to marry someone else? Over his dead body.

As for being her antidote? Not a chance.

She was nothing more than a furnace for him to absorb Yin and nourish Yang. Why would he reverse their roles?

Yu Zhengzheng, oblivious to Rong Shang’s thoughts, turned to Hengwu and said, “Xianjun, did you get water in your brain while washing your hair?”

Even if the Ghost King was willing to act as the antidote, there wasn’t even a private space here. With five people all under the drug’s effects, was he seriously suggesting they engage in some kind of group activity?

Xianjun Hengwu caught her drift. Stroking his chin leisurely, he said, “There’s a folding screen over there. Just move it to the corner and make do.”

He paused, adding a friendly warning, “Although I’m not interested in peeping, you might want to watch out—the tribal queen here has a penchant for spying.”

The deer blood being drugged was the queen’s doing. The air itself was laced with toxins, and the priest had given them short-term antidotes before the Warrior’s Tournament began.

The queen’s reasons were twofold: she wanted to ensure they wouldn’t cause trouble after winning, and she was assessing their stamina and endurance.

As Xianjun Hengwu spoke, Yu Zhengzheng’s breathing became increasingly labored. Her body felt ablaze, every nerve screaming with a desperate yearning.

Naturally, she dismissed his absurd suggestion. Even if the Ghost King agreed, she wouldn’t go through with it.

Not because she cared about chastity, but because the Ghost King’s status made everything more complicated. With anyone else, it would simply be a matter of mutual utility, but the Ghost King was different. Too many people wanted him dead. Countless enemies coveted his essence, and hidden adversaries lurked in the shadows.

An Ning, for example, was clearly targeting him. Xiang Feng was hardly valuable enough to warrant such effort.

The true mastermind behind An Ning’s schemes was either Xiao Yuqing or Xiao Biqi, the head of the Yuling Sect—it all traced back to the Xiao family.

Yuling Sect was the foremost sect in the cultivation world. If she were to get involved with the Ghost King, his demise would inevitably drag her down as well.

She was already poisoned by the Southern Sea Prince because of him, with no cure in sight. If she were to lose her life over him again, it would be an utter travesty.

Her trembling hands clenched tightly, nails digging into her palm as pain restored a sliver of rationality.

She raised her head to look at Xianjun Hengwu. “What’s your plan to deal with this?”

Whenever she encountered such scenes in novels or dramas, she always found it baffling. Why was the male lead always compelled to rely on the female lead as an antidote when under the influence of an aphrodisiac?

But if it only requires releasing to resolve the effects, why not just use one’s hands?

Could the aphrodisiac possibly discern the method used and adjust the detoxification accordingly?

Yu Zhengzheng narrowed her eyes. “Since you dared to consume the drug, it means you’ve already figured out how to deal with it. So, what’s your antidote?”

Hengwu Xianjun froze, a faint blush creeping up his pale ears. He awkwardly turned his head, clearly not expecting such a direct question.

What else could he do? Naturally, the solution was using his hands.

But with the Ghost King present, if he admitted that outright, how could he maintain his dignity in the Six Realms?

The esteemed ruler of the Demon Realm, reduced to self-soothing to overcome an aphrodisiac? Such a revelation would be a laughingstock.

Hengwu Xianjun’s face reddened even more. “I have my own way of dealing with it. There’s no need for your concern.”

Yu Zhengzheng let out a derisive snort. “You’re not planning to use your hands, are you?”

Hengwu Xianjun: “…”

And what if he did?

He’d been relying on this method for over ten millennia—self-reliance wasn’t something shameful, was it?

Despite his inner turmoil, he forced a calm smile. “As if! I, the great Demon Lord, would never stoop to such disgraceful measures.”

Feeling the skeptical gazes behind him, Hengwu Xianjun straightened his back and feigned composure, his eyes flitting between Yu Jiangjiang and Shanshui.

He wasn’t particularly acquainted with Yu Jiangjiang, barely exchanging a word with her the entire journey. However, he’d heard she was Yu Zhengzheng’s sister.

If the elder sister was a force to be reckoned with, the younger likely wasn’t far behind.

Besides, it was plain as day that Yu Jiangjiang fancied Xiao Yuqing. Hengwu Xianjun had no intention of involving himself in such a messy situation.

His gaze landed on Shanshui. Her expression was vacant, her cheeks flushed, as if she wasn’t even listening to the conversation.

If he named her as the antidote, she probably wouldn’t even notice, right?

Clenching his teeth, he pointed to Shanshui. “Her. She’s my antidote.”

Yu Zhengzheng froze momentarily before frowning. “Shanshui?”

She lowered her gaze in thought. Xiang Feng had already dared to lay hands on Shanshui—who knew what he’d try next?

If Shanshui had a powerful protector, Xiang Feng might hesitate to act recklessly again.

Hengwu Xianjun, despite his poor eyesight and clumsy steps, held a high status. Judging from how easily he handled the savages in the arena, his cultivation was likely above Xiang Feng’s.

Not to mention, he was exceptionally good-looking, his demeanor refined. Aside from his loose tongue, he didn’t seem to have any serious flaws.

What’s more, Yu Zhengzheng had observed over the past couple of days that Hengwu Xianjun seemed to harbor some interest in Shanshui.

“You need to ask for Shanshui’s opinion first,” Yu Zhengzheng said, her eyes narrowing with a calculating gleam. “If she agrees, you can’t just leave her high and dry. You’ll need to take responsibility and marry her with the proper rites as your Demon Consort.”

Fearing his rejection, she walked over to Rong Shang and tugged at his sleeve, her voice softening. “Don’t you agree with me?”

Rong Shang, reclining on the chaise, had been resting his eyes. Hearing her voice, he slowly opened them.

His gaze landed on Yu Zhengzheng, kneeling before him. Her pearly teeth nibbled her lips, which glistened with a faint sheen. Her flushed cheeks had a delicate hue, and her misty eyes shimmered with a veiled allure.