Chapter 56, is it still a bit too hasty?

There are many principles that cannot be violated in the process of time travel, so even if memories can be traversed, spiritual power truly cannot be brought back.

The spiritual abode is hidden deep within, vast and expansive, still resembling its appearance during the time when it was the sect leader. However, the spiritual energy within is like a forked twig, short and weak. The accumulated spiritual energy was all thrown out just now, and it has now reached the limit of the twig, leaving only a few scattered bits hanging on it.

Very good—short and weak.

Meng Ji closed his eyes.

This situation was clearly unexpected for him, and he was inevitably shocked. However, the shock was only temporary. After all, Meng Ji had experienced countless thrilling demon-slaying scenes, and even if he had deep feelings, he was still able to remain calm on the surface.

He hadn't expected his wife to make this request.

He blinked gently, clearing away the remaining tears in his eyes. The bitterness in his heart slowly transformed into a slight sweetness, spreading throughout his body. At the same time, he subtly raised his chin, making his handsome profile even more prominent under the pearly light.

It was a gesture of listening, but also one of expectation, and even a hint of seduction.

The moment the voice was uttered, Yao Jin released her grip on the whip at her waist. She lowered her head, completely submissive. "Father, this man was left in the Demon Realm by me, but I never imagined he would harbor such a heart to kill you. I am filled with immense grief. Please, you must hand him over to me for judgment."

Upon hearing this, Jiuge raised an eyebrow and gave a soft "hmm," neither agreeing nor disagreeing.

Yao Jin chuckled and gently tugged at his sleeve. The force with which she tugged was very charming, one tug after another, just like a beautiful Persian cat begging for treats. There was a kind of persistence in her not giving up until she achieved her goal, as well as an arrogance in her wish that he would be blessed.

Jiuge recalled the demon general who had been in office for less than a night. He had been worried that his words might have some impact on Yaojin, but now all his doubts seemed to have disappeared. He coughed and waved his hand lazily, "Alright, what haven't I done to you? Is a mere brat worth you begging like this?"

These words clearly carried a probing tone, but Yao Jinhui remained completely oblivious, only smiling with satisfaction, "That's good."

After a pause, she explained, "I was afraid that my father would be angry with me, or that someone might use this incident to gossip, which would cause a rift between my father and me, and that would be a huge injustice."

This sentence dispelled any future thoughts of wanting to become a monster.

Meng Ji's face turned pale upon hearing this. The sweetness in his heart instantly turned bitter, even tangible, like a field of golden rice suddenly turning green, becoming raw and hard. He then pursed his lips, as if suppressing something, but then the anger churning in his chest could no longer be contained, and his eyelashes fluttered as he vomited a mouthful of blood.

This sputum had been accumulating for a long time. It was the result of his anger when he first entered the room and saw Yao Jin smiling and acting coquettishly in the Demon King's arms. Now that he had vomited it out, he should feel relieved. However, one anger would be appeased only to be followed by another, and every anger was caused by Yao Jin.

He knelt on one knee, head down, not speaking and not looking at anyone.

Jiuge couldn't help but chuckle, feeling an indescribable sense of pleasure. "Drag it away."

A cold wind howled, its chilling force blowing all the way to the dungeons of the Demon Realm.

This dungeon must have been designed by a master. It is surrounded by cold, hard rocks, with only a small window hanging high above. The window is so square that even a slightly fat rat cannot squeeze through it. Of course, there are no magical runes on the window that can be touched to trigger an alarm.

Meng Ji sat with his eyes closed in the cell. The dim light shone in, making his handsome profile almost translucent.

Yao Jin knew this was a sign of depleted blood and qi, so he cut his palm and brought it over, saying, "Drink some; my blood will help you recover quickly."

Yao Jin doesn't do business at a loss; by feeding her this blood, she needs to know one thing.

Meng Ji pursed his lips tightly and didn't even look at her.

This extremely uncooperative attitude made Yao Jin's face darken. She scolded, "Here we go again! You're always like this, saying you don't care if you live or die. What do you care about at all?!"

The words slipped out, and Yao Jin froze, then that hidden pain surged back like a tidal wave.

Meng Ji suddenly looked up, his eyelashes trembling slightly. "You... you remember?"

"What are you thinking about?" Yao Jin forced down the pain and rubbed his forehead with his fingertips.

Meng Ji lowered his eyes and remained silent.

This reverted to his original attitude: ignoring everything, completely unmoved. But he wasn't like this before; even if Mount Tai collapsed before him, his face would remain calm.

In a flash, a thought crossed Yao Jin's mind, but the pain in her head intensified, like a bottle of strong liquor churning her with nowhere to vent her frustration. The pain made her irritable, even inexplicably violent. Regardless of how transcendent the other party's realm was, Yao Jin directly raised her hand to his lips and pressed it against his lips, saying, "Drink, drink it so I can ask you questions."

In Yao Jin's understanding, you have to pay a price to get something, so she prepared the price in advance. Her demon blood can nourish the body of a demon, and she has been doing so since she was a child. Therefore, she is also a human blood bag by the side of the Demon King.

But Yao Jin had never tried feeding blood to cultivators. However, he figured they were all pretty much the same, with no difference in nose or eyes. What difference would it make?

The more she pressured him, the less cooperative Meng Ji became, completely contrary to his usual obedient nature. Yao Jin never expected that she had been blinded by a hawk these days, mistaking a black-hearted lotus for a white flower. Anger flared up from the bottom of her heart. She was furious and straddled him, pressing her palm against his mouth with brute force, "Behave yourself."

"How about you behave?" Meng Ji finally spoke his first words of the night, his voice rather cold. He held Yao Jin's legs in each hand and pulled them up a bit. This position would make Yao Jin sit more steadily, but it obviously made him feel more uncomfortable.

The Adam's apple, which was tilted back in resistance, was exposed to the air and stretched into a straight line. At this moment, the Adam's apple rolled up and down, obviously recalling those sealed-off yet undeniable memories.

Suddenly, Meng Ji patted his subordinate's soft flesh and said sternly, "Behave yourself."

"Smack!"—The sound was almost crisp as Yao Jin was already furious. When had she ever been spanked? Although it didn't hurt, it was extremely humiliating. Yao Jin's eyes suddenly blazed with fire, and she was about to yell at him to put her down, but she swallowed her words as she lowered her head.

Those delicate eyebrows and eyes, that prominent Adam's apple, even the hot breath exhaled from between their lips and teeth, all transformed into a captivating blade, lingering and sweeping in.

With a loud bang, Yao Jin's entire face burned.

Meng Ji's lips curled up subtly, and in that position, he slowly lowered his head, brought his hand close to the other person's lips, and suddenly pressed it against his.

Once the lips and teeth brushed against the blood-stained palm, it was considered that the drink had been consumed.

His lips were stained with blood, making him incomparably beautiful, like a mountain spirit transformed from the hazy smoke. This was completely different from his usual dignified, taciturn, and silent image, but it did not seem out of place.

He can do it if he wants to and is willing to.

In an instant, the large hand on her leg felt like a branding iron, burning Yao Jin from the bottom of her heart. Her face grew redder and redder, and her body temperature rose abnormally.

Meng Ji seemed completely oblivious to what was happening. He rested his head on her shoulder, using his cool, refreshing scent to mask her original fragrance. It was a remarkably gentle posture, yet it enveloped everything, leaving no escape and allowing no one to flee. After a moment, he spoke softly to her flushed ears, his tone finally softening, "Ask whatever you want."

What do you want to ask?

How should I ask?

"You, you, you..." Yao Jin's pores were contracting as she darted under his shoulder like a fish, completely oblivious to his slightly astonished face and the thoughtful look on his face as he stared at the gap. Then she jumped up, pointing at him, stammering out a complete sentence.

Meng Ji remained calm, his surprise fading, but a sense of relief finally surfaced in his heart.

I finally figured it out.

Of course, the person who had finally figured it out clearly didn't realize this and hurriedly left.

With a clang, the dungeon lock snapped shut.

Meng Ji sighed softly, murmuring, "Was it still a bit too hasty?"

Is it urgent? Actually, it's not.

Whether it's the investigation of the Spirit Mansion tonight or the Madam's extremely affectionate attitude towards the Demon King, both have pushed the situation to an inevitable point.

He and the Demon King were destined to clash sooner or later.

The key to the problem lies with the Mirror of Origin. It is both the source of our success and our downfall. The way of Heaven cannot be defied. Once the space-time tunnel is opened, everyone returns to the starting point. He is no longer the powerful immortal lord, and the Demon King should not have broken through to the next realm overnight.

Unless he also possesses this memory and can comprehend the techniques he will learn later at this point in time.

But this is tantamount to cheating, which Heaven would not allow. Otherwise, his spiritual power should have been brought back. So what makes the Demon King so fearless?

Suddenly, Meng Ji stood up and tapped the dungeon bars lightly with his fingers, making two soft thuds.

The next instant, a dark figure emerged from the deserted dungeon.

Meng Ji: "Let him come to see me."

The prisoner specifically requested the Demon King's presence, which was clearly illogical. The lowly demon guards thought this was outrageous and began to curse, slamming their sticks against the wooden fence, making a loud clanging sound. "Damn you, what kind of idiot are you? You think you're some kind of immortal lord?"

Meng Jiwei paused slightly, then lifted his eyelids to look at him.

The wooden stick stopped striking abruptly, and the henchman was so frightened that he immediately shut his mouth. But after a moment, his face turned pale, as if he felt ashamed, and he started striking even louder.

"Bang bang bang!"

Suddenly, a hand reached out through the gap in the wooden fence, its fingers pointing forward and effortlessly grabbing the wooden stick. Then, with a strong pull, it dragged the little brat so hard that his entire face was pressed against the fence.

With a "bang"!

The little lackey received a crisp, loud smack on the head.

Meng Ji calmly withdrew his hand, while maintaining the same strength with his other hand to restrain him. "In Buzhou Mountain, someone like you would have to go to the Discipline Hall to receive punishment."

Then he added, "Summon your Demon King here and tell him that I have brought the Mirror of Reversion, and that I have a way to restore things to their original state."

His face was contorted with blood, his pupils contracted sharply, and the little rascal was still being held by the throat. He blinked frantically, then kept pointing to the hand gripping his neck, indicating that he understood.

Meng Ji sneered and let go, saying, "Don't use such foul language next time."

These days, who in the demon realm doesn't swear a few times? "Damn it" and "father" are just words that come out of their mouths without thinking. In that instant, the little lackey finally understood something in his not-so-bright mind. He nodded hurriedly, then covered his bumped forehead and scrambled out.