The person, clearly terminally ill and on the verge of death, lay on the bed as if looking down at him. Feng Ziyi's tone was both sarcastic and pitying: "If it weren't for me, you would never have had the chance to meet her in all your lifetimes."

A beautiful, peach-pink figure suddenly appeared in Jiang Yan's mind.

It felt as if a huge hole had suddenly opened in his chest, filled with endless panic and fear. He desperately wanted to know who that person was.

Jiang Yan stared at him intently, her expression sinister. "Explain yourself, who is she?"

After Feng Ziyi's tribulation ended, the upright and honest young prime minister's life came to an end. He was extremely unhappy that he had been overshadowed by a mere mortal in the human world.

Seeing Jiang Yan's gloomy expression, he instantly felt pleased. Ignoring Zi'e's hints, he then provoked him, "You dare to harbor such thoughts about her? Just be your Emperor."

Jiang Yan was furious. He limped forward, grabbed the man's collar, and lifted him off the bed, his voice rough and harsh, "Explain yourself! Who is she?"

The immortal successfully transcended the tribulation, his soul returned to its place, and the mortal body lost its vitality.

The person in his hand had unfocused eyes and stopped breathing. Jiang Yan was so anxious that his eyes turned bloodshot. He had finally found a clue to the missing part, but it was about to be lost.

He drew his sword, the tip sinking into Feng Ziyi's shoulder. Jiang Yan, his face cold, slowly turned the hilt with his long, slender hand, grinding the sword bit by bit into Feng Ziyi's flesh.

Before his soul had completely dissipated, Feng Ziyi groaned in pain. He was furious, feeling that Jiang Yan had gotten away with his verbal sparring. Jiang Yan was utterly treacherous and tyrannical, and he wished he could summon a bolt of lightning to strike him dead immediately.

Fortunately, he quickly shed his mortal body and returned to his immortal form; otherwise, he might have attacked Jiang Yan immediately if he had remained a few seconds longer.

He rushed to Penglai immediately. He needed to find out Shu Yun's attitude. She had treated Jiang Yan quite well when they were in the mortal realm. If she was protecting this mortal, things would be difficult.

When Feng Ziyi arrived in Penglai and saw Shu Yun still asleep, he breathed a sigh of relief. She was still the same as before. It made sense; she had erased Jiang Yan's memory because she didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore.

That's perfect. It would be impossible to quell his hatred without getting revenge on Jiang Yan.

After sending a message to the King of Hell, Feng Ziyi, having completed the tedious procedures of the Nine Heavens in just over ten days and been forced by his father to consume many pills to stabilize his cultivation, finally managed to find time to make a trip to the Underworld.

Jiang Yan kept stroking his left wrist. In the fragmented memories, it seemed that the person had left something on his wrist.

Whenever he thought of that figure, he felt a heavy weight in his heart. What had happened? Why couldn't he recall any memories of her?

"It's you?"

Jiang Yan glanced over casually. It was an unfamiliar man. He frowned, lowered his eyes, and didn't want to reply.

Xuan Mu smiled, showing no sign of annoyance at being ignored, and remained as good-natured as ever, "Young Master Yan."

The person opposite him didn't seem to want to pay attention to him, so Xuan Mu politely performed a Buddhist salute and decided not to bother him any further, preparing to leave.

He saw Jiang Yan staring at his left wrist, which emanated an aura he had been fortunate enough to witness before. After hesitating for a while, he finally decided to ask, "Is Young Master Yan worried about the immortal power on his wrist?"

Jiang Yan finally raised his head, his dark, lustrous eyes staring straight at him. "Do you know what I have in my hand?"

Xuan Mu nodded, then shook his head. "I don't know exactly what kind of immortal technique it is, but it's not a bad thing. It's something the caster uses to protect you."

"Protect me?" Jiang Yan pursed her thin lips.

“Yes,” Xuan Mu nodded, “The immortal power is pure and gentle, it must have been left by the immortal lord out of concern for your safety.”

Jiang Yan seized upon those words, his gaze intense. "Do you know who she is?"

"It is an honor to meet you, but how could a mere demon cultivator like me know the true name of the immortal?"

Jiang Yan murmured, "Demon cultivator, immortal..."

He stared intently at the unfamiliar man in monk's robes. "Tell me how to find her."

Xuan Mu's usually compassionate and gentle face showed a hint of sadness. "I don't know either..." If he knew how to find that person, perhaps he could save that man's broken soul.

If she could have saved that man, she wouldn't have died...

Jiang Yan straightened up, his gaze cold. This person was the same, just like the people in this underworld. It was obvious that he knew something but was unwilling to tell him.

Having spent so long in the underworld, he had come to understand that in worlds other than the human realm, there were immortals, demons, and monsters. No wonder Feng Ziyi looked down on him even though he had ascended to the position of supreme ruler in the human world.

But at least he knew her status.

Immortal...

Jiang Yan turned her head to look at the man in monk's robes, "You said you're a demonic cultivator?"

Before this handsome man ascended the throne, he had been of great help to Yan Jiao, and Xuan Mu was quite grateful to him. He did not intend to avoid or hide it, "Yes."

Jiang Yan's eyes were fixed on Xuan Mu, their depths dark, filled with a reckless madness and obsession, yet his face remained impassive.

“Teach me, I want to become a demonic cultivator.”

The people of the underworld avoid him, conceal his secrets, and remain silent. If she were a revered immortal throughout the four seas and eight wastelands, then everything would make sense.

Xuan Mu frowned slightly, "Demonic cultivators and the Nine Heavens are sworn enemies, and most people in the Four Seas and Eight Desolations dislike demonic cultivators, you..."

“I know,” Jiang Yan lowered his eyelashes, a mocking smile curving his eyes, and a smirk playing on his lips, “but I have no other choice.”

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