“Now get out of here. This is no place for you!”
Sensing someone’s arrival, Shen Fuxin rose in excitement—but the moment she saw it was not Ye Yu, her eyes clouded with frost.
Her voice was cold, almost murderous. This had been the place of her first meeting with Ye Yu—a place of precious memories. She would allow no one here, at least not while she remained.
Was it domineering? So what? With enough strength, she did as she pleased.
Yet the man in white sable fur did not retreat. He stepped forward and said, “My name is Hua Jiuming, an unlucky soul thrown down from the Divine Realm. I’ve come seeking help. Will you aid me?”
Shen Fuxin’s brow furrowed. “Impossible. In the Divine Realm, there is no way back to the Lower Five Realms. How could you have been cast down?”
“Many seemingly impossible things do occur. If you haven’t experienced them, you wouldn’t know.”
Hua Jiuming took two more steps forward. “I’ve observed you for days, here in silent vigil. You must be waiting for someone. If you help me, I will help you. What say you?”
Shen Fuxin’s expression grew more serious. According to her memory, Ye Yu should have arrived yesterday. Yet by now there was still no sign of him. Panic churned within her—had her memories faltered, or had Ye Yu suffered some danger? She wanted to search for him, but the vast Underworld offered no clue where to begin. And she feared that the moment she left, Ye Yu would arrive here.
Torn, she had spent the day in indecision. Now that Hua Jiuming offered assistance—though she detested him, to find Ye Yu she would at least try.
“What reason do I have to trust you? And what do you want me to do?”
A faint smile touched Hua Jiuming’s lips as he stepped closer. “Because I will soon lead the Demonworld to conquer the Celestial Realm. I will master two of the Lower Five Realms in short order. Whoever you await, whoever you seek, I can help—and swiftly. Of course, words alone lack credibility. So here’s my bargain: I will first secure what you desire. Then you will aid me once. Simple—when you shatter the void with Void-Shattering, bring me along back to the Divine Realm.”
Shen Fuxin’s mind raced. He would assist her first, then she would carry him through the rift in space? It did not sound impossible.
As she pondered, Hua Jiuming stepped before her and said softly, “The ghostly qi within you is extraordinarily potent—it must be complete. At will, you can shatter the void. My request is simple; you have no reason to refuse.”
Shen Fuxin gazed at the strange face so close to hers and replied coldly, “Very well. I agree.”
...
At the eastern edge of the Celestial Realm—closest to the center and also the front line of the Demonworld siege—Bai Qingsong led the disguised Ye Yu onward until they reached this very point, without arousing a hint of suspicion. Even Bai Qingsong found himself stealing a glance at Ye Yu: though he bore no demon horns, his demonic qi was so thick that even up close his Immortal nature went undetected. Such concealment art was truly superb.
Unbeknownst to Bai Qingsong, Ye Yu had ample experience in masking his aura. The simplest method was to suppress his qi utterly, tuck a demonic artifact within his sleeve, and occasionally channel it so the demonic qi pervaded his form.
Yet why had that old crow kept staring at my head? Because of the missing horns?
Musing thus, Ye Yu muttered, “If you stare any longer, I’ll rip your demon horns off and stick them on my own head!”
At the threat, Bai Qingsong’s face drained of color. He clutched the horns atop his head and shook violently. “Brother, I—I won’t look again! I promise!”
“All right, enough. There are demons coming!”
Ye Yu relayed the warning by mind-transmission. Straightening up, Bai Qingsong clasped his hands behind his back and stepped half a pace ahead—so that Ye Yu followed a half-body-length behind, a show of respect befitting his rank as Demon Lord.
“Hey you—yes, you over there! Stop gawking like a potato. Don’t try to act cute and slow your roll. Get over here!”
A demon broke away from the ranks and strode forward, scowling. “Demon Lord Bai, I do have a name—Shen Fugui! We met in Dongyao Province some time ago. You even sent me a jar of wine when you left. Forgotten already?”
Bai Qingsong recognized him as Shen Fugui, Qu Zhengding’s right-hand man in Juque Province. Back when Qu Zhengding and he had met in Dongyao to plan the invasion, he had ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) courted Shen Fugui with gifts—including that two-thousand-year-old vintage he had spared no thought in giving. At the time he had smiled brightly for Qu Zhengding’s sake.
But now he had “Brother” Ye Yu with him to make trouble—why care for a nobody like Shen Fugui? Better to address him as “that one” and show his place.
Anger roiled within Bai Qingsong at the memory of the precious wine. He raised his hand and slapped Shen Fugui hard across the face.
“No flattery! This war matters too much for old ties. Where is your Demon Lord now? I have urgent business with him.”
Shen Fugui stared in disbelief. A slap—what did that mean? His face flushed red with rage, but he dared not retaliate: Bai Qingsong still bore the title of Demon Lord, and striking him was futile. He swallowed his hatred and resolved that once he met Qu Zhengding, he would make the Demon Lord avenge him.
“Our Demon Lord just returned from battle. He’s resting within an Immortal Sect a hundred miles ahead. I’ll take you to him at once.”
With that, Shen Fugui turned to lead the way—when a mocking voice drifted from behind.
“You seem rather put out. Since that’s the case, how about you play dog, hmm?”
At the jeer, Shen Fugui’s eyes snapped open.
