Chapter 76 It's easy to seek death, but difficult to seek life.
Ji Fuguang's footsteps gradually faded away, but the suffocating pressure still lingered in the air like a tangible force, refusing to dissipate for a long time.
Sheng Zhiyi stood stiffly in place, her head bowed.
The puddle of murky water on the ground, a mixture of tea leaves and dust, mirrored her current, muddy state of mind. The lingering pain from being choked on her neck and the choked sobs that carried a hint of blood in her breath.
She didn't move immediately, but bit her lower lip hard, the pain and the taste of rust stimulating her nerves. Her gaze was fixed on the direction Ji Fuguang had gone, her eyes burning with intense anger.
However, even with intense resentment, tears still welled up in her eyes.
Don't cry.
If you cry, you've truly lost.
Sheng Zhiyi crouched down very slowly and picked up the cold, white porcelain shards.
Her fingertips touched the murky tea, reminding her of the suffocating atmosphere of being in a water dungeon.
One piece, two pieces... she picked them up mechanically, but her brain was working at an unprecedented speed.
Is it humiliating?
Unforgettable.
Are you angry?
It burns the internal organs.
But then what? Shouting uncontrollably like before, only to be met with more direct crushing and threats? It serves no purpose other than venting emotions.
Ji Fuguang is right; it's futile for a mayfly to try to shake a tree.
She held the last shard of porcelain in her palm; the sharp edge stung her skin, and a trickle of bright red seeped out, which ironically cleared her chaotic thoughts.
The water prison is only a short walk from here, but if she wants to continue maneuvering, she will have to put in countless efforts.
It is easy to seek death, but difficult to seek life.
Especially in order to survive under the control of the Demon Lord Ji Fuguang.
But she had to survive.
It's not just about living, but also about... one day, repaying everything we've suffered today and in the past.
This thought was like a spark igniting in the boundless darkness, instantly illuminating her almost succumbing consciousness.
All the anger, resentment, and grievances were instantly burned away by this flame, sinking into the deepest part of my heart, solidifying and hardening my flesh and blood.
Her eyes were no longer filled with brokenness and confusion, but instead with an almost resolute indifference. Beneath this indifference, however, churned a turbulent undercurrent and a resolute hatred.
“Miss…” a soft voice sounded at the door.
Sheng Zhiyi looked up and saw Huanlu standing at the door with a basin of water and a cloth, her eyes full of worry.
She quickly concealed all emotions in her eyes, regained her calm expression, and said in a low voice, "Come in."
"Miss, please go and rest. I'll take care of things here." Huanlu squatted down and quickly began wiping the floor.
She didn't look at Sheng Zhiyi, nor did she ask what had just happened; she simply moved faster.
Sheng Zhiyi watched her busy figure quietly, then suddenly spoke, her voice hoarse and low, "Just now... thank you for not coming in."
Huanlu paused, then shook her head: "This servant...this servant knows nothing."
Sheng Zhiyi's heart sank; the depth of Ji Fuguang's accumulated power was evident.
She walked to the table, picked up the empty teacup that Ji Fuguang had rejected, and ran her fingertips along the rim of the cup, asking seemingly casually, "His Majesty... seems to be very busy with state affairs on weekdays?"
Huanlu's hand tightened suddenly as she wiped the floor, and she said softly, "Miss, the Demon Lord's affairs are not something this servant can discuss..."
"I was just asking casually." Sheng Zhiyi's tone softened, carrying a hint of weariness and vulnerability. "I just felt that His Majesty seemed to be in a bad mood. Perhaps I did something wrong again and upset him."
She retreated strategically, placing herself in an extremely humble position.
Huanlu seemed to relax her guard slightly, hesitated for a moment, and whispered, "Miss, you're overthinking it... His Majesty does seem to have something on his mind these days. I heard that the cultivation world gathered in large numbers yesterday, and when several demon generals came to report, their expressions weren't very good..."
They left Tianyan Sect in a hurry that day. Although they did not wake anyone else at the time, the remaining demonic energy could not be concealed.
Ji Fuguang's true colors have now been fully exposed.
"Is that so?" Sheng Zhiyi lowered her eyelashes. "I hope it won't affect His Majesty."
She didn't ask any more questions, and instead watched Huanlu clean up the ground.
Just as Huanlu was about to pick up the basin of water and leave, Sheng Zhiyi suddenly whispered, "Huanlu."
"Is there anything else you need, Miss?"
"Tomorrow... His Majesty has ordered me to brew tea for him again." Sheng Zhiyi's voice carried a hint of pleading hesitation. "However, my spiritual power is currently sealed, and I can no longer perceive the characteristics of many teas... I wonder if the Demon Palace has any spiritual teas that are least likely to be mistaken? Even if they are of lower grade, it doesn't matter."
This request was perfectly reasonable, and even made her seem exceptionally obedient and pragmatic.
Huanlu paused for a moment, seemingly not expecting her to bring this up. After thinking for a while, she replied, "There seem to be some tea cakes made from 'Dew-Condensing Grass' in the storeroom. Although they are common, they have a mild aroma and require a slightly higher tolerance for error in the roasting process... This servant can go and find some."
"Thank you for your trouble." Sheng Zhiyi nodded slightly, revealing a grateful smile.
Huanlu bowed hastily, picked up the basin of water, and prepared to leave.
As she reached the door, she paused, as if going through an extremely difficult struggle, and whispered very quickly:
“Miss… When His Majesty instructed me yesterday, he said, ‘Take good care of him, and there must be no mistakes…’”
After saying that, she seemed to realize that she shouldn't have spoken ill of someone behind their back, and without even looking at Sheng Zhiyi's reaction, she left as if she were fleeing.
The palace doors closed, but Sheng Zhiyi was slightly taken aback by those words.
Carefully inspect it, and there must be no mistakes.
That icy tone was indeed the Demon Lord's style.
Was this a belated panic after seeing her nearly die? And was he going to throw away the tea she had prepared today?
Sheng Zhiyi sneered inwardly. Ji Fuguang's words and actions were inconsistent, revealing a subtle disconnect. She no longer had the heart to speculate about his thoughts.
Normal people should not try to understand the logic of mental illness.
Why did Huanlu specifically tell her this? Was she trying to comfort her, or was she hinting at something?
This maidservant does not seem to be just an ordinary servant of the Demon Lord of Fear, as she appears on the surface.
Sheng Zhiyi recalled her expression earlier, and at the time she only thought it was fear, but now she thought it might have a deeper meaning.
She walked to the window and looked out at the sky, which was always filled with stars.
The Demon Clan is in turmoil... This is a piece of information, and Ji Fuguang is not without worries. The Demon Clan is hated by everyone in the cultivation world. Even though they have extremely strong infiltration capabilities, it is impossible for them to infiltrate the upper echelons in the short term. Ji Fuguang also has his own troubles and worries.
Perhaps... this could become a variable that can be utilized.
She took a deep breath of the cold air, forcing herself to calm down.
Then, go back to bed, sit cross-legged, close your eyes, and try to introspect.
His meridians remained as if sealed by mysterious ice, lifeless and silent, with no flow of spiritual energy to be felt. The seal placed by Ji Fuguang was extremely domineering.
But she did not give up; she recalled the Qi-guiding techniques she had learned at the Tianyan Sect.
That can't even be called a cultivation technique; it's just an introductory mental cultivation method that allows beginners to feel the existence of spiritual energy in heaven and earth. Disciples with even a little achievement would not choose to practice it. Only low-level servants would start with this crude and weak mental cultivation method.
Again and again, she used her powerful willpower to drive her almost imperceptible divine sense, as if using the dullest knife to slowly grind away the blockage at the entrance of her meridians.
The process was painful and lengthy, and it greatly depleted his mental energy, causing fine beads of cold sweat to quickly seep from his forehead.
An hour passed, and there was still no response.
Just when she was about to give up due to exhaustion, suddenly, in the deadly darkness, in a place that seemed extremely far away, a pulse that was almost negligible beat out very faintly.
It was so faint it seemed like an illusion.
"Bang bang!" A knock came at the door, and Huanlu's voice rang out: "Miss, I'm back."
Sheng Zhiyi quickly got up from the bed, sat down at the table, and said calmly, "Come in."
Huanlu placed several paper packets on the table. "Miss, these are tea cakes made from 'Dew-Condensing Grass,' and there are several other different kinds as well. You can try them all."
Sheng Zhiyi opened the paper package, and a fresh scent of herbs and trees wafted out.
That makes sense; the tea cakes used by the Demon Lord must be extraordinary.
She didn't have time to look any further and put the paper package back. Now that Huanlu was in the room, she couldn't do anything else, so she asked gently, "Why did it take you so long? Is the storeroom far from here?"
Seeing that her expression was calm, Huanlu's initial fear of witnessing the two arguing gradually dissipated, and she nodded and said, "It is indeed quite far. Danyang Palace is located in the very center of the Demon Palace, while the storeroom is on the edge. It takes a long time to walk back and forth."
Almost immediately, Sheng Zhiyi's ears sensitively picked up the words "most central".
Ji Fuguang actually locked her up in such a crucial place.
As a result, leaving becomes virtually impossible.
Setting aside her thoughts for the moment, Sheng Zhiyi pondered the words again, walking for a long time...
She looked up in astonishment: "Huanlu, you're a mortal?"
————
Meanwhile, Ji Fuguang sat high on the throne, his fingertips unconsciously tapping the armrest.
Below, a demon general, his body shrouded in a bloody aura, knelt on one knee, his voice deep and resonant: "Your Majesty, several major sects in the cultivation world have been making unusual moves recently, with frequent interactions between them. Moreover, disciples from these sects have recently descended the mountain to search for our clansmen, killing them on the spot, causing considerable losses to our clan."
Ji Fuguang's face remained expressionless, his narrow phoenix eyes slightly narrowed, revealing no emotion: "Those low-level demons, they're dead, so be it."
Despite such cold and cruel words, not a single person in the room objected.
The Demon Lord has always acted this way; they are already used to it.
"It seems the major sects are preparing to unite and annihilate the demon race," Ji Fuguang said calmly, resting his chin on his hand.
The demon generals couldn't help but look up, "Your Majesty..."
“No need to panic.” Ji Fuguang’s tone was tinged with sarcasm. “Half of them are worried that their lifespan is nearing its end and they still haven’t been able to break through, which will lead to their death and loss of will to fight. The other half are concerned with pomp and etiquette and insist on distinguishing themselves from one another. It will take at least half a year of this to accomplish anything.”
"Keep a close watch on the area around the Demon Palace. Anyone who dares to cross the line will be executed immediately."
"Yes, sir!"
After the demon general withdrew, the hall returned to silence.
Ji Fuguang leaned back on the throne, the dim light in the hall outlining his hard jawline.
A faint hint of mockery lingered at the corner of his lips.
The cultivation world claims to uphold justice, but he knows perfectly well that those people may look like immortals, but their calculations and schemes are no different from those of ordinary mortals, and they may even be more calculating than ordinary mortals. Who dares to say that they have no selfish motives?
Over the years, he has seen many hypocritical people.
He raised his hand, his fingertips still seemingly warm from the tea.
She alone could perhaps be considered foolish in a way that was consistent inside and out.
I remember her broken and hateful look at the end, her words, "Are you that happy?", and the way she stiffly brewed tea...
That inexplicable sense of restlessness and depression resurfaced in his heart.
He frowned and summoned a palace servant.
"The order is issued: a palace banquet will be held tomorrow, and everyone in the Demon Palace must attend, including... that one from Danyang Palace."
He wanted to see what kind of dish she would cook up tomorrow.
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