Chapter 79: Tempting her to fall into demonic possession?
Even long after Ji Fuguang left, a heavy sense of oppression still permeated the hall.
"Send the tea leaves to Danyang Palace. Tomorrow, Junior Sister will go to the main hall to brew tea for me."
Before leaving, he left behind these words.
The entire Demon Palace was bustling with activity. Various precious teas from the storerooms were brought in by palace maids and piled up into a small mountain on the table.
Within the vast palace, Ji Fuguang's commands were like the laws of nature; a single word could send countless people rushing about. Palace servants, with bowed heads and submissive demeanor, quickly and quietly brought tea and departed, like puppets who only obeyed the Demon Lord's orders.
So... does Ji Fuguang want her to become like that? To put him first in everything, to respect him with utmost devotion, and to have no intention of resisting him.
Like a bird with broken wings, forever trapped in this luxurious cage, enduring the master's whims of caressing and punishment, thunder and rain, all are divine grace?
impossible.
Sheng Zhiyi slowly stood up, walked to the window, and opened it.
The icy air she inhaled sent a slight shiver through her, but it also made her mind clearer.
His gaze fell down, landing on his trembling fingertips.
If she still had a sliver of hope for Ji Fuguang before, now she clearly realizes that he is no longer the upright and virtuous senior brother of Tianyan Sect, and she is no longer the somewhat naive junior sister.
The coldness of the water dungeon, the public humiliation, and even that heart-wrenching embrace just now... each and every one of these events, like a red-hot branding iron, completely burned away her innocent and weak parts, making her even more hardened and unyielding.
What Ji Fuguang wanted was a plaything that would completely submit and be under his control.
She refused.
She raised her hand and gently wiped away the marks on her lips where he had touched her, as if trying to erase some nauseating imprint. The movement was slow, yet carried a resolute force.
Live on.
Not only do we need to survive, but we also need to escape and figure out what's going on.
The system that inexplicably bound her, the divine sword spirit that recognized her as its master, and Ji Fuguang's incomprehensible madness and contradictions.
It happened to her, but no one told her the inside story. Everyone thought she could be easily brushed off. They were incredibly powerful, so whatever they gave her, she had to accept with endless gratitude and couldn't investigate the reasons behind it.
Because she was too weak, so weak that no one had the right to take her seriously.
Sheng Zhiyi locked the door, returned to the bed, and sat cross-legged in meditation.
The Qi-guiding technique was pushed to its limit, and willpower drove the divine thought to repeatedly grind down the restrictions in the meridians.
In the darkness, a faint, almost imperceptible pulse reappeared.
Sheng Zhiyi calmed herself down and quickly continued practicing her internal energy.
The throbbing gradually became regular, and I could feel the rise and fall of the meridians almost every incense stick's time.
Sheng Zhiyi completed the final cycle of the exercise, opened her eyes, and slowly exhaled.
But... it's too slow.
How long will it take for her to break free from the shackles imposed by Ji Fuguang?
The following day, Ji Fuguang's order came through a servant, instructing her to prepare tea.
Sheng Zhiyi calmly got up.
Huanlu looked at her with concern, carefully tidying up the tea set for her, hesitant to speak.
Yesterday, His Majesty left with a chilling coldness, but the young lady now appears calm and composed, a reaction that terrifies her even more.
However, the young lady's questioning yesterday left her at a loss for how to respond.
She was sent by His Majesty; perhaps she incurred the young lady's displeasure...
"Don't be afraid."
A hand patted her head, and Sheng Zhiyi looked down at him.
"It's nothing, I'm just going to make tea. I've done it before, so don't worry."
Sheng Zhiyi followed the attendants, passed through the palace walls, and stepped into the main hall.
Ji Fuguang leaned back on the throne, his fingertips touching his forehead, seemingly examining a jade slip that shimmered with black light. Hearing footsteps, he didn't look up, as if she were nothing more than an insignificant wisp of air.
Sheng Zhiyi lowered her eyes, walked to the tea table, and neatly arranged the tea set and tea leaves she had brought. She took the tea, ground the tea, boiled the water, and brewed the tea... She did every step meticulously and with perfect precision. There was no hesitation, no trembling, and not even a trace of emotion showing.
She offered a teacup, her eyes lowered demurely: "Your Majesty, please have some tea."
Ji Fuguang finally raised his eyes, his narrow, wind-like eyes falling on her with a hint of scrutiny that was barely perceptible.
She was too quiet and too compliant today. This calm, devoid of all emotion, made him feel a strange displeasure, as if he had punched empty air, far less vivid than the look in her eyes yesterday, burning with hatred and stubbornness.
He took the tea, his fingertips deliberately brushing against her fingers.
Sheng Zhiyi's arm tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment, then immediately relaxed, her eyes still lowered, as if she hadn't noticed.
Ji Fuguang took a sip of tea. The tea was cooked to perfection, with a mellow and sweet aftertaste that was beyond reproach.
If he wanted a docile puppet, he only needed to flick his finger to destroy her consciousness.
The reason I kept her here for so long was because of her eyes that sparkled like stars.
He put down his teacup and suddenly felt a little listless.
This kind of absolute obedience, after a while, becomes so boring.
An eerie silence fell over the hall.
After a while, Ji Fuguang suddenly remembered something, and with a flick of his wrist, a thin black booklet was thrown onto the table in front of Sheng Zhiyi.
The pages were yellowed, and the cover had no words on it, only a faint demonic aura lingering around it.
“Since you have nothing to do and are so idle that you’re having some inappropriate thoughts,” he said with a slight smile, “I’ll practice this to strengthen my body and prevent myself from losing my balance and embarrassing myself next time.”
Sheng Zhiyi's gaze fell on the booklet, and her pupils contracted almost imperceptibly.
Demonic techniques?
She actually wanted him to cultivate demonic arts.
In an instant, countless thoughts raced through her mind.
Is this a new form of humiliation? A temptation to seduce her into demonic possession? Or yet another trap to test her?
But her expression remained calm and composed.
Even more surprisingly, a bold idea quietly took root: all methods share a common origin, and the demonic arts also involve mobilizing the energy of heaven and earth; the loosening seal in her veins…
She knew the idea was almost absurd, but it might be a crisis, or it might be the only chance to turn things around in a desperate situation!
Sheng Zhiyi reached out and picked up the booklet, her fingertips feeling the roughness of the pages and the unsettling demonic aura emanating from it. Then, she slightly curtsied.
"Yes, Your Majesty. Thank you for your reward."
The voice was calm, without anger, resistance, or surprise.
Seeing her like this, Ji Fuguang's irritation grew stronger. He waved his hand, as if shooing away a pet that was no longer interesting.
"Step back."
——————
That night, inside the sleeping quarters of Danyang Palace.
Sheng Zhiyi sat cross-legged on the couch, with the demonic cultivation manual, "Bone-Eroding Technique," spread out in front of her. The name itself exuded an evil aura.
This move is extremely risky.
Demonic energy is violent and domineering, extremely difficult to control, and often backfires, affecting one's mind and even completely polluting the dantian.
But she had no other choice.
She took a deep breath, her gaze resolute, and following the instructions in the book, she tried to concentrate her barely perceptible five senses to sense the demonic energy around her.
The process was far more painful than I had imagined!
Demonic cultivation techniques are indeed extremely fast; in less than the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, she had guided demonic energy into her body. However, the demonic energy was violent and cold, completely opposite to her original gentle spiritual energy. The two energies suddenly met in her nearly blocked meridians, like ice and fire colliding, instantly erupting in a tearing pain.
"Uh..." Sheng Zhiyi groaned, and fine beads of cold sweat instantly appeared on her forehead. Her body trembled uncontrollably, as if her meridians were being pierced by countless tiny ice spikes and scorched by burning flames.
She bit her lower lip hard, tasting the blood, and with astonishing willpower, she forcibly maintained the operation of the spell without interruption.
Just as she was about to faint from the pain, the solid sealing barrier actually loosened violently once again under the intense conflict between the two energies.
"Pfft—" A small mouthful of blood spurted out, landing on the dark bed sheet, a shocking sight.
But Sheng Zhiyi's eyes suddenly lit up.
Although faint, she could clearly feel a spiritual energy belonging to herself flowing out from the crack. Although it was only as thin as a hair, it was real.
She succeeded!
Sheng Zhiyi dared not stop. Enduring the excruciating pain, she carefully guided that precious wisp of her own spiritual power into her dantian.
There, besides the spiritual root radiating green light, there was also a long-dormant phantom, "Jinghong Feather".
The sword spirit of the gods slumbers here.
Sheng Zhiyi tried to touch it with that newly generated spiritual power very gently.
"Buzz—"
A buzzing sound, seemingly from the ancient wilderness, suddenly rang out.
The buzzing sound didn't just ring in her ears; it resonated deep within her consciousness. At the same time, Jing Hongyu trembled very slightly. Although it returned to stillness in an instant, the clear tremor she had felt was definitely not an illusion.
Sheng Zhiyi suddenly opened her eyes, her face as pale as paper, but her eyes were shining with an incredulous excitement.
The Blade & Soul... is reacting!
Sheng Zhiyi wiped the blood from her lips, feeling the newly generated, though weak, yet vibrant spiritual energy within her body, as well as the aftershocks from the buzzing sound in her dantian.
The hope may be small, but it has been ignited.
She walked to the window, pushed it open, and looked out at the star-studded sky of the Demon Realm.
Their gaze seemed to pierce through the heavy illusion, directed towards an unknown distance.
A vague yet firm plan began to quietly take shape in her mind.
She needed more information: the layout of the Demon Palace, the rotation of guards, and the movements of the outside world... She also needed to recover her strength more quickly, and even more so, she needed to find a way to awaken the sword spirit within her.
Hibernation is not surrender.
Rather, it's for the purpose of launching a more powerful attack next time.
——————
Outside the main hall.
Ji Fuguang stood with his hands behind his back in the shadows of the corridor, gazing in the direction of Danyang Palace, his handsome face expressionless.
He sensed the abnormal fluctuations of demonic energy within the hall, as well as her suppressed, painful groan and the surging of her blood and qi.
...As expected, he practiced recklessly and ended up injuring himself.
madness.
He frowned, and that inexplicable irritation rose again in his heart, mixed with a very faint anger that even he himself had not delved into.
Was it because of her reckless stupidity? Or for something else?
"You asked for trouble." He muttered a cold sneer, as if to convince himself, then turned around, his black robe brushing against the cold ground.
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