The figure that swayed in the depths of his heart was the most intense longing in the river of time.

---

Long Ming thought he had forgotten, but those memories screamed, wanting to break free from the corners he had deliberately buried.

The final gaze of the Demon Emperor had left too deep an impression. It was like a secret, suppressed emotion, wrapped in a fragile bubble—if it burst, there would be no return.

Humans are strange creatures. When they have something, life feels empty and lonely. But when they lose it, they suppress all the heavy pain and solitude, smiling to the world, saying, “I’m fine.”

Even if it was just a familiar face, Long Ming couldn’t help but lose his composure. His eyes were so dry that he couldn’t even shed a tear as he blankly stared at that face, which was so similar to one from his past.

You Ji too, was struggling to restrain himself. His lips trembled, and the blood under his skin pulsed with an overly excited, copper-red glow, surging through his veins. It wasn’t obvious, but anyone paying attention would be alarmed.

The Demon King seemed extremely angry—no, furious.

It was as if he could no longer contain himself. You Ji suddenly erupted, his entire body igniting like flames. The beast markings on his arms began to glow with wild light. He hated the way that person was looking at him!

He hated it so much!

Why did those eyes resemble the ones from his dreams? What right did they have to show that kind of look? No one had the right to replace the shadow that haunted his mind!

He didn’t even know who that shadow was, but he could feel that it was someone he could never reach, someone so lofty and untouchable.

He couldn’t be sure of much, but he was certain that it could never be this ordinary person, someone who would get lost in a crowd without notice.

The way You Ji looked at Long Ming was as if he were gazing at a loathsome bug, one he wished to crush. For the first time, Long Ming realized how detestable he must seem.

The hatred was almost palpable, radiating from the Demon King in a way that had never been seen before.

Even when You Ji had previously descended into madness, his expression hadn’t been so twisted. The waves of spiritual energy rippling from him were so intense that not only the newcomers but even the veteran inmates couldn’t withstand them, some collapsing under the pressure. This was the aura of a great demon, normally concealed but now unleashed with earth-shattering force.

You Ji was overflowing with killing intent. Having just barely recovered from his previous state of madness, he couldn’t properly control his power. Long Ming knew there was no escaping it.

As he reflected on the Demon Emperor You Ji of his past, who had always been gentle and compliant, he glanced at the current You Ji, filled with nothing but hatred for him. Apart from their shared appearance, there was no other resemblance. How could they be the same person? His friend from a thousand years ago was dead—truly, completely dead.

When You Ji died, Long Ming hadn’t felt the impact quite as deeply. But now, as the dull pain slowly eroded his heart, the loss became painfully clear.

At the brink of life and death, Long Ming couldn’t help but recall fragments of the past.

A thousand years ago, Long Ming had been known as a once-in-a-century human genius, his cultivation progressing at an incredible pace. Born into a prestigious family, it was inevitable that he had become somewhat proud.

At that time, he had just broken through to the Holy Domain and couldn’t tolerate even the slightest flaw.

He especially loved going into the Demonic Beast Forest to hunt, constantly seeking ways to improve himself. Every time he encountered danger, he somehow managed to escape unscathed. After a while, even an idiot would realize someone was secretly protecting him. Perhaps You Ji thought he had hidden himself flawlessly.

Long Ming had always found it amusing to see You Ji fumbling and at a loss around him. It filled him with a mischievous desire to tease him.

“Why do you always follow me?” Long Ming would ask, wearing his usual emotionless mask, exuding cold detachment.

“N-no, it’s not like that, I…” You Ji would stammer, his face flushed with embarrassment and fear. “I was just… passing by, I…”

How could Long Ming believe such an easily disprovable lie?

Yet this soon-to-be Demon Emperor genuinely believed that such an excuse would suffice.

He was so nervous and awkward around Long Ming that he didn’t even dare come too close, as if afraid he would somehow taint him.

“Stop following me,” Long Ming would say, cold and dismissive, before turning to leave, leaving only a distant, icy back for You Ji to gaze at.

But Long Ming knew that You Ji would still follow him.

Later, Long Ming would sometimes intentionally put himself in danger, perhaps just to see the panic on You Ji’s face as he tried to save him.

…

He had truly been spoiled by it.

So reckless and unafraid of consequences.

As Long Ming jolted out of his memories, he saw a wave of energy hurtling toward him. For a brief moment, he didn’t want to dodge it. Maybe being hit would provide some sort of relief.

So, he had moments like this too—melancholy and regret.

This time, no one would be there to stand in front of him, to shield him like before. Long Ming blinked dryly as the heat from the energy wave made his face tingle.

A massive black vortex descended upon him, a single blow meant to annihilate.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in front of the attack, and at the same time, a roaring gale swept through the plaza, clashing with the vortex mid-air.

A blinding white light nearly seared the eyes of everyone present, and the entire plaza shook, the heavily reinforced iron bars rattling under the impact.

Long Ming stood there, stunned, staring at the unexpected figure who had appeared. It was none other than the rotund, bald-headed warden, Sha Yu.

“YOU!” Sha Yu’s face was dark with fury as he growled at the Demon King. “What the hell are you doing?! Do you want to end up in solitary confinement again?!”

The ground where You Ji had unleashed his attack was scorched with deep scars, rubble and dust scattering all around. In that void of destruction, You Ji stood, looking more terrifying than ever.

No one dared meet the gaze of the enraged man. The Demon King was like a ticking time bomb—no one knew when he might explode, so they shrank back, hoping to avoid notice.

There’s a saying, “Never reason with a madman.”

The veteran prisoners didn’t think much of it, though. They knew You Ji was usually uninvolved, but he wasn’t afraid of causing trouble either. Now, with the arrival of the newcomers, why would he suddenly lash out like this? Could it be that someone simply looking at him had made him so furious that he wanted to kill them?

Who would believe that?!

There had to be more to it. As subordinates, it was their duty to dig deeper and uncover the truth!

Maybe one of the newcomers was a real expert, a potential threat to the Demon King’s dominance, and this was his way of delivering a strong warning to the newcomers.

Regardless of what the other prisoners had done, You Ji’s mere appearance had overshadowed everything.

He was reminding everyone who the true king of this territory was.

Who was the one they should follow?

That’s right—the Demon King!

The prisoners finally understood. This was the hidden truth beneath the surface!

What a brilliant move! All their earlier taunting was pointless. Scaring a few weaklings was nothing. Look at the Demon King—one move from him, and the world was shaken! Everyone was shocked, their jaws dropped!

No need for more games—just a single gesture from the Demon King, and the warden was practically trembling. Now everyone was on edge.

You Ji, however, didn’t pay attention to anyone else. His entire focus was on Long Ming, and the disgust in his eyes had only grown stronger, as if he didn’t want to see him anymore. He lowered his head, staring blankly at the hand he had just used to attack, looking dazed.

Ever since Sha Yu had called him out, the ruined plaza had taken on a somber atmosphere. No one made a sound.

Neither the veteran prisoners, cautious of stepping on a landmine, nor the silent newcomers dared speak.

Even though a massive hole had been torn in the fence, the older prisoners wisely refrained from bullying the newcomers any further.

Sha Yu was still assessing whether You Ji had relapsed into madness. If You Ji lost control again, even the warden himself might have trouble dealing with him. It was a tense moment.

No one knew how much time passed, but You Ji still hadn’t spoken. He hadn’t made a sound. All he could hear was his own breathing, and all that filled his mind was that vague, elusive figure. Trembling, he covered his face with his hands, his whole body flushed as if he were about to burn up, like a lost and frightened animal.

Finally, after confirming that You Ji hadn’t fully relapsed, Sha Yu waved his hand, ordering the prison guards to take him to solitary confinement.

The so-called solitary confinement was the punishment chamber for inmates.

As Long Ming saw the wolf warriors approaching from the main gate, he suddenly felt enlightened.

Of course, it wasn’t that his disguise had failed. With the power of the blood contract, unless Long Ming deliberately concealed himself, the wolf warriors would recognize him no matter what he looked like.

Now he understood why Sha Yu had arrived so quickly. It seemed the wolf warriors had played him, but at least they still had some conscience—they hadn’t used him up and thrown him away. Oh, they were probably just giving him a little taste to keep him working for them.

So, forcing him to sign that wretched blood contract, and then rushing in to protect him, meant that the task they wanted from him was definitely not a small one.

Especially when he caught the meaningful glance from Wolf Tianluo, Long Ming felt a pang of dread. He almost wanted to light a candle for himself.

Why are these guys always wearing helmets, yet he could tell which one was Wolf Tianluo? Because only Wolf Tianluo had those glowing green eyes. All that talk about identifying people by their aura or temperament—that was nonsense. Long Ming’s method was simple and direct. ╮(╯▽╰)╭

When Wolf Tianluo saw Long Ming’s emotionless face, he somehow felt a certain aura of majesty.

Actually, when Wolf Tianluo had learned that Long Ming had so openly infiltrated the prison, he had been shocked. He never expected this ancestor of theirs would agree to such unreasonable demands from Sha Yu.

Was it really that inherent sense of justice in light mages?

After connecting a series of imagined reasons in his mind, Wolf Tianluo gazed at Long Ming with newfound respect, mixed with a strange hint of pity.

Damn it, what did I do to deserve that disgustingly pitiful look?!

Deciding not to dwell on the quirks of the wolf warriors, Long Ming raised his head, looking toward You Ji’s direction. The sight of his sorrowful back, shrouded in silent grief, left him speechless.

You Ji opened his mouth, but the sound that came out was like gravel scraping—choked, strangled by emotion. Only a harsh whisper remained. His bloodshot eyes didn’t even meet Long Ming’s.

“I’ll remember you!”

The suppressed voice sounded like it had been soaked in blood, acidic and stinging.

Though You Ji didn’t name names, everyone knew exactly who he was talking about.

You Ji seemed like he was about to collapse, but silently allowed the wolf warriors to lock him in chains without resistance.