Chapter 97 She finally saw what he had never said…
Ji Fuguang lived like this for two years.
The adoptive father remained addicted to gambling and repeatedly stole household items to pawn. The adoptive mother grew increasingly resentful, becoming harsh and irritable all day long. She simply stopped caring about the fields and spent her days chatting idly at the village entrance.
Only Ji Fuguang remained, getting up before dawn every day to handle various matters.
In the cold winter, he carried a wooden basin to the river to wash his clothes. The river was covered with a thin layer of ice. He moved a stone to break the ice and soaked his clothes in it.
A splinter had gotten stuck in the back of his hand from chopping firewood a few days earlier, and he hadn't been able to remove it. Now, a patch of it was swollen and red.
Ji Fuguang found a stone slab by the river and used its sharp edge to push against the swollen flesh, forcing out the splinter covered in pus and blood.
After doing all that, he tossed the stone slab aside, not caring at all, and continued to put his hands in the cold water to wash his clothes.
Sheng Zhiyi could clearly see that his fingers were slightly deformed, and his skin was terribly rough, with even visible scales.
When your fingers are immersed in ice water, they feel a biting cold at first, then gradually warm up, and finally, when you take them out, your knuckles itch.
Ignoring the itching in his hands, Ji Fuguang put the washed clothes into a wooden basin, picked it up, and headed home. He needed to go to the mountains to collect more firewood today, as they weren't enough at home.
He pushed open the door of the thatched hut, and before he could even speak, a rotten wooden bowl was thrown at him. The bowl hit him hard on the forehead, and the skin on his forehead swelled up quickly.
His adoptive father rushed over, his eyes red, grabbed his shoulders, and shook him. "Where's the money? You sold the herbs you collected a few days ago, where's the rest of the money?"
The wooden basin in Ji Fuguang's hand had fallen to the ground. He felt a little dizzy. "I bought rice... but we're out of rice..."
That little money couldn't even buy much rice. It was only because Ji Fuguang was busy helping others with the ancestral worship that the shopkeeper gave him a few extra bushels.
With a "smack," a hand slapped across his face, knocking Ji Fuguang to the ground, where he could only hear a buzzing sound in his ears.
"Buy rice? How could everyone be buying rice! You've been hiding the money, haven't you!" He bent down, grabbed Ji Fuguang by the collar, and slammed his fist down hard. "Give me the money!"
The gambling addict was blinded by his debts and couldn't pay them back. The people in the gambling den wouldn't let him go. He had just witnessed them cutting off the fingers of other gamblers, and fear had completely seized his mind.
"Give me the money!"
He punched Ji Fuguang repeatedly in the face, and soon the thin face became bruised and swollen, turning into a mess of blue and purple marks.
"I don't... I really don't have any money..."
Ji Fuguang struggled to explain, his lips stained with blood and his speech slurred.
But his adoptive father wouldn't listen. He couldn't accept that the only possibility had been shattered and disappeared. He punched Ji Fuguang in the face even harder, and blood gushed from his forehead instantly, blurring Ji Fuguang's vision.
The stench of blood filled the room. Ji Fuguang felt like he was about to die. He didn't know where the strength came from, but he suddenly pushed away his adoptive father, grabbed the door frame, stood up, and ran out as fast as he could.
"What's going on?!"
The foster mother came out through the back door. She had just reached the backyard when she heard the commotion inside the house, so she quickened her pace and rushed over.
Ji Fuguang stood at the door with his face covered in blood. His adoptive father was pushed by him and sat on the ground, clutching his waist and crying out in pain.
The foster mother immediately understood what had happened, and frowned as she looked at Ji Fuguang.
His face was still covered in blood, and by the time he went out, the news had spread throughout the village that very afternoon.
"Kid!"
The foster mother stretched out her hand and beckoned to Ji Fuguang.
Ji Fuguang stood still, his expression a mixture of fear and hesitation.
"Alright, come back now!" the foster mother called out, her face showing some impatience.
Ji Fuguang's legs trembled slightly, the fear of being beaten to death filling his heart, but looking at the dilapidated thatched hut in front of him, he still walked back slowly, bit by bit, with his face covered in blood and tears.
As soon as he stepped through the door, his adoptive father grabbed his arm and then kicked him hard in the stomach. Ji Fuguang fell to the ground, clutching his head.
"You dare to run away! Tell me, where did you hide my money?"
"He's hiding money?" the foster mother asked in astonishment.
"You ungrateful brat! I've raised you for nothing all these years! And you're still secretly hiding money!" The adoptive father, who had just been pushed to the ground, was already filled with rage. Now, he was even more furious, grabbing a stone by the door and smashing it against the adoptive father's head again and again.
Ji Fuguang was no longer quite lucid. He instinctively curled up, but he was powerless to stop the adult man from beating him.
"Mother...mother..."
He cried out in despair, looking up at his foster mother.
The foster mother's face was expressionless. Finally, she walked over, frowned, and scolded, "Yang Laosan, let me tell you, I don't care what kind of dog you behave at home, but don't let others know! Do you think I'm even human anymore!"
Under Ji Fuguang's expectant gaze, she slammed the door shut.
A sharp pain shot through his face. Ji Fuguang futilely covered his head with his hands, but soon, even his hands were smashed and mangled by the rocks.
As his consciousness gradually faded, Ji Fuguang's mind became increasingly hazy, and a thought slowly arose in his mind: Perhaps I really am going to die...
When he was a beggar, he once heard someone say that people often fall into a dream before they die, and then they can eat their fill and stay warm.
But why did he still feel both pain and hunger? The rice porridge from last night was too thin; he barely ate any rice at all…
Blood flowed into his open mouth, choking him and making it hard for him to breathe; the feeling of impending death enveloped him.
I just want to live... I just want to eat my fill...
In his hazy state of consciousness, Ji Fuguang seemed to hear the sound of a seal breaking.
A sudden change has occurred!
A dense, ominous black demonic energy erupted uncontrollably from his body, blasting his adoptive parents away.
Ji Fuguang opened his eyes. His originally dark pupils had turned completely red. His long hair moved without wind, his face was cold, and his eyes were icy.
He suddenly reached out, and demonic energy coiled around their necks.
The adoptive parents were already terrified by this sudden turn of events, their voices trembling as they said, "You..."
Before they could speak again, the demonic energy twisted violently, and their heads lost all support, hanging down at an eerie angle. Their eyes were wide open, and the anger on their faces had not yet completely faded.
The demonic energy seemed to have finally been satisfied and returned to Ji Fuguang's body.
Only then did Ji Fuguang seem to finally regain his senses. He looked at his hands, which were wrapped in black energy, his eyes filled with fear and confusion, stunned by this sudden change.
A chaotic and vast collection of fragmented memories flooded his mind—memories of the Demon Lord's past life.
He...he is the Demon Lord?
Ji Fuguang took a step back, his body pressed against the door frame.
The demonic energy still lingered around him, but he felt no joy at this power. He glanced fearfully at his dead adoptive parents and the chaotic yard, and staggered away from this so-called "home" as if fleeing a plague.
Sheng Zhiyi was filled with mixed feelings and didn't know what to do. When she saw Ji Fuguang leave, she subconsciously followed him.
Contrary to Sheng Zhiyi's expectations, he did not immediately become cunning and adept at disguise after regaining the Demon Lord's memories. Instead, he acted like a wounded little beast, carefully concealing the demonic energy within him that occasionally went out of control.
Ji Fuguang began his wanderings once again. He ran into the mountains and forests, black demonic energy swirling around his skin. He seemed very afraid, squatting by the river and desperately washing his hands, but it was obvious that the demonic energy could not be washed away at all.
Until one day, he was discovered by a rogue cultivator with sinister eyes.
"Born with demonic bones?"
The rogue cultivator imprisoned him in a dark mountain cave and used a specially made magical artifact to periodically extract his demonic essence, euphemistically calling it "studying the conversion between spiritual power and demonic energy."
Each extraction is accompanied by excruciating pain.
In this dark and gloomy prison, the rogue cultivator forced Ji Fuguang to cultivate in order to better understand the difference between the operation of demonic energy and spiritual energy.
Two completely different forces were tearing at his body, and Ji Fuguang suffered terribly.
However, the rogue cultivator was soon astonished to discover, "You actually possess spiritual roots!"
He grabbed Ji Fuguang's shoulders and laughed loudly, "This is truly heaven's help! With you, I'm sure I'll master the method of conversion soon, and I'll definitely ascend to immortality! What do those fools know? Demonic energy and spiritual power are just different cultivation methods; they can definitely be converted, they definitely can..."
The rogue cultivators became even more fanatical, forcing Ji Fuguang to continuously cultivate.
Ji Fuguang gradually learned how to guide, control, and even use his meager spiritual power to suppress the innate demonic energy.
Finally, one day, when the rogue cultivator approached again with his magic weapon, preparing to extract the demon bone, Ji Fuguang's long-accumulated power suddenly erupted!
The suppressed demonic energy and spiritual power within him mixed into a violent force. He pounced like a wild beast, piercing through the muttering rogue cultivator in the most primal and cruel way.
Standing beside the corpse of the rogue cultivator, the blood-covered youth Ji Fuguang showed no joy in revenge, only a deathly coldness and... a loneliness that made him feel out of place in this world.
Sheng Zhiyi's breathing became somewhat sluggish.
Is this what Ji Fuguang was talking about... twisting the necks of his adoptive parents, killing his senior sister who was making an earnest confession, and piercing the lecturing elders?
She couldn't help but recall the scene in the secret realm, where Ji Fuguang stood in the thatched hut, smiling calmly, saying, "This is my former residence."
He spoke of his adoptive parents in a gentle and loving tone, even revealing a hint of nostalgia.
But what were his true feelings at that time?
All the pain was buried deep, and there was no one to confide in.
Despite enduring immense pain and torment, he still chose to conceal his identity as the Demon Lord and join the Tianyan Sect.
Not only her, but the entire cultivation world has always believed that Ji Fuguang infiltrated the immortal sect in order to secretly plot a huge conspiracy.
In reality, Ji Fuguang had always avoided the Demon Clan, and within the Tianyan Sect, he had always been a diligent and upright senior disciple.
He is indeed the Demon Lord, but this is not a position he wanted to hold; he had no choice in his birth.
Looking at the blood-covered boy from afar, Sheng Zhiyi felt as if her heart was being pierced by countless needles, the pain making it hard to breathe.
She finally saw his unspoken past.
Previously, she had been angry at his humiliation, but now she finally understood.
Ji Fuguang has never received much warmth in his life. He doesn't know how to be kind to someone, just like a child who has never seen fire and has no idea how to tame a scorching flame.
“Ji Fuguang…” Sheng Zhiyi looked at the sky, her eyes filled with unprecedented chaos and heartache.
He forcefully used his last bit of power to send her here...
Is he alright now?
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