Chapter 25
The rhinoceros horn incense continued to burn.
Thin streams of smoke filled the underground chamber.
Every breath Zhou Yi Chen took felt heavier than the last.
The incense fed on fear.
Regret.
Hatred.
And the more negative emotions it found, the stronger it became.
Qing Geng watched the smoke curl around him.
Waiting.
Observing.
Studying.
Zhou Yi Chen suddenly lifted his head.
His voice was rough from pain.
“Why?”
Qing Geng looked at him.
“Why what?”
“Why do you want Zhao Yuanzhou’s inner core so badly?”
For a moment, silence filled the room.
The woman stared into the burning incense.
Then laughed softly.
Not happily.
Almost bitterly.
“Freedom.”
Zhou Yi Chen frowned.
“What?”
“I want freedom.”
The answer surprised him.
Qing Geng’s gaze drifted toward the ceiling.
As if looking beyond the mountains.
Beyond Kunlun.
Beyond the world itself.
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Her voice became distant.
“We all have cages.”
“Mine is simply older than most.”
Zhou Yi Chen stared.
“What does that even mean?”
Qing Geng’s expression immediately cooled.
“None of your business.”
The conversation ended there.
The incense continued burning.
The smoke thickened.
And slowly-
the chamber disappeared.
Zhou Yi Chen found himself standing in darkness.
A familiar darkness.
The kind that appeared in nightmares.
Then came the screams.
His body froze.
Fire.
Blood.
The smell of burning wood.
The massacre.
His home.
His clan.
The Bing Yi Clan’s destruction unfolded before his eyes once more.
His father’s body lay motionless.
His brother’s blood stained the ground.
The same nightmare.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Hatred surged through him.
Sharp.
Violent.
Ancient.
The incense eagerly consumed it.
The smoke grew darker.
Then-
The vision changed.
The flames vanished.
The blood disappeared.
A completely different scene appeared.
Moonlight.
Soft and silver.
A courtyard he didn’t recognize.
A man stood there.
Beautiful.
Gentle.
His face-
Was Zhou Yi Chen’s.
Or rather-
Someone who looked exactly like him.
The stranger held a baby in his arms.
The infant was crying.
The man was crying too.
Tears streamed down his face as he desperately clutched the child closer.
“Please…”
His voice broke.
“Please let my child live.”
The image shook.
Blurred.
Someone stood across from him.
Someone hidden by darkness.
“I don’t know where Zhu Yan is.”
The man begged.
“I swear.”
“Please.”
“Take me.”
“Not him.”
The baby cried harder.
The vision shattered.
Zhou Yi Chen’s breathing became uneven.
His chest hurt.
For reasons he couldn’t understand.
Then another memory appeared.
A snowy night.
White.
Silent.
Cold.
This time-
The face belonged to Zhao Yuanzhou.
Not the playful demon he knew.
Not the shameless flirt.
Not the smiling man who annoyed him daily.
This Zhao Yuanzhou looked broken.
Destroyed.
His hands trembled.
Blood covered his robes.
His golden eyes were filled with grief.
The kind of grief that came from losing everything.
Standing before him-
was that same beautiful man.
The one with Zhou Yi Chen’s face.
For a long moment, neither moved.
Then Zhao Yuanzhou spoke.
His voice cracked.
Every word sounded painful.
“I need to kill you.”
Silence.
The snow continued falling.
Tears filled his eyes.
“I’m sorry.”
The words echoed endlessly.
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry.”
Then the sword fell.
The vision shattered.
Zhou Yi Chen suddenly gasped.
His eyes snapped open.
The underground chamber returned.
The incense still burned.
His entire body trembled.
Not from pain.
Not from the demon bone needle.
But from confusion.
From grief.
From memories that didn’t belong to him.
Or perhaps-
did.
Qing Geng noticed his expression immediately.
“What did you see?”
Zhou Yi Chen remained silent.
His heart was pounding.
His head ached.
The images felt real.
Too real.
As if they had actually happened.
As if he had lived them.
As if somewhere, buried beneath lifetimes-
he remembered.
The baby.
The tears.
The apology.
And Zhao Yuanzhou’s face.
That devastated expression.
The expression of someone being forced to kill the person he loved most.
For the first time since entering Lingxi Villa-
Zhou Yi Chen felt afraid.
Not of Qing Geng.
Not of the pain.
Not even of death.
But of the possibility that the memories were true.
And if they were-
Then what exactly was Zhao Yuanzhou hiding from him?
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After the encounter with the blood-covered villager, the group continued deeper into Lingxi Villa.
The atmosphere remained unsettling.
Mist drifted through the abandoned pathways.
The plague’s aura lingered in the air.
Then they saw him.
A young man stood beneath a dead tree.
Dark robes.
Pale skin.
Eyes filled with an endless sadness.
The pestilent energy surrounding him was unmistakable.
Wen Xiao immediately recognized him.
Her expression changed.
“Fei…”
The others looked toward her.
“You know him?”
Bai Jiu asked.
Wen Xiao nodded slowly.
“Ancient records mention him.”
“Whenever Fei appears…”
Her voice lowered.
“Pestilence follows.”
Bai Jiu immediately took three steps backward.
Ying Lei took four.
“What?”
The yellow-haired spirit protested.
“I value my health.”
Surprisingly, Fei didn’t react.
He simply stood there quietly.
Looking tired.
Almost lonely.
Nothing like the terrifying plague demon described in old records.
Zhao Yuanzhou narrowed his eyes.
“You don’t seem interested in harming anyone.”
Fei lowered his gaze.
His voice was soft.
“Tired people rarely enjoy hurting others.”
The answer surprised everyone.
Even Wen Xiao looked uncertain.
This wasn’t the monster the records described.
Fei slowly looked toward them.
Then toward Zhao Yuanzhou.
“You’re searching for Zhuo Yichen.”
Immediately, everyone’s attention sharpened.
Zhao Yuanzhou stepped forward.
“Where is he?”
For the first time, urgency slipped into his voice.
Fei noticed.
A faint sadness crossed his face.
“Follow me.”
Without another word, he turned and walked deeper into the estate.
The group exchanged looks.
Then followed.
Several hidden passages later, Fei led them into a concealed chamber beneath the villa.
The room was surprisingly clean.
No corpses.
No plague.
Only candles.
And a large portrait hanging on the far wall.
Everyone froze.
The woman depicted there wore flowing white robes.
A gentle smile.
Divine features.
She resembled a goddess from ancient legends.
Ying Lei nearly snorted.
“I know her.”
Everyone turned.
“You do?”
Wen Xiao asked.
The spirit crossed his arms.
“She’s not a goddess.”
“What?”
“That’s Qing Geng.”
He pointed at the painting.
“A minor demon from the Great Wilderness.”
“She used to run around pretending she was a divine being.”
The room fell silent.
Bai Jiu blinked.
“You’re telling me she’s basically a fraud?”
“A professional fraud.”
Ying Lei corrected.
Wen Xiao stared at the portrait.
Then noticed something.
The painted figure held a red string.
The same kind of thread they’d heard about earlier.
The thread that warded off plague.
A thought immediately formed in her mind.
Qing Geng clearly enjoyed being worshipped.
Being admired.
Being treated as a goddess.
Wen Xiao slowly smiled.
“Oh.”
Zhao Yuanzhou immediately recognized that smile.
It usually meant trouble.
“What are you thinking?”
Wen Xiao ignored him.
Instead, she walked directly toward the portrait.
Then-
She bowed respectfully.
Everyone stared.
Bai Jiu nearly dropped his medicine basket.
“Wen Xiao?”
She straightened.
Then bowed again.
Even more sincerely.
“Greetings, Great Goddess.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Ying Lei looked horrified.
“You’re encouraging her.”
“Exactly.”
Wen Xiao nodded proudly.
“If she wants to play goddess…”
Another bow.
“We should be polite.”
Pei Sijing quietly looked away.
Bai Jiu covered his face.
Zhao Yuanzhou sighed.
“I suddenly understand why Commander Zhou gets headaches.”
Just then-
A faint mechanism clicked somewhere inside the chamber.
Everyone froze.
The portrait shifted slightly.
A hidden passage began opening behind it.
Wen Xiao immediately pointed.
“See?”
“It worked.”
Ying Lei looked offended.
“I cannot believe that worked.”
Neither could Zhao Yuanzhou.
But as the hidden entrance slowly revealed itself, his expression darkened.
Because beyond that passage-
he could finally feel Zhou Yi Chen’s spiritual energy.
Weak.
Painfully weak.
And suddenly, the ancient demon was no longer smiling.