Chapter 31: Let Go! Part 2

Wangshu raised his finger. Hundreds of white beams rose into the air like bolts of white silk, fanning out from behind him, gleaming with a steely coldness.

Then they converged before him, split apart, and twisted into a dazzling net of light, heading straight for the Abyss Lord’s face.

The Abyss Lord did not dodge or avoid. He casually swatted it away.

His steps were extremely steady. Lord Wangshu’s attacks didn’t make him dodge once. In the blink of an eye, he had already reached Lord Wangshu’s front.

It seemed victory was near.

Ji Ling frowned.

He wasn’t worried about the Abyss Lord’s strength. No matter how strong Lord Wangshu was, he was merely a vassal of Lord Fusang—like the moon is a shadow of the sun. Lord Wangshu was Lord Fusang’s assisting minister. But the Abyss Lord was a true Evil God who ran neck and neck with Fusang. He couldn’t lose to a Lord Wangshu who wasn’t even in his right mind.

What made Ji Ling frown was the Abyss Lord’s fighting style.

The Abyss Lord’s style was trading wounds for kills, trading life for life. Clearly he could dodge every attack—yet he dodged none of them. He let the blades of moonlight cut his palms open, sticky blood running down his fingers.

It was as if he didn’t know pain. The more battered, the more formidable. The more bloodied, the higher his combat power.

If he were in a game, the Abyss Lord would be a blood-selling Berserker: the lower his HP, the crazier he got; the crazier he got, the higher his attack. Before the enemy had even moved, he’d already burnt through his own health bar first.

By now, the Abyss Lord had reached Wangshu’s front. He reached out that bleeding hand and clamped it around Wangshu’s neck.

Bai Ze: “Hey…”

He wanted to tell the Abyss Lord to go easy. Though Wangshu seemed mentally unstable, he was still Lord Fusang’s assisting minister—the Sovereign Lord’s most beloved younger brother, his blade and his hound. If he were to die here because of Bai Ze and Ji Ling, once Lord Fusang came to settle accounts, the two of them would be in serious trouble.

The next second, black light surged at the Abyss Lord’s fingertips. Wangshu’s expression was dazed. He blanked for a moment, then his body went limp and he crumpled straight to the ground.

The clamoring bells finally stopped.

Bai Ze rushed forward and felt Wangshu’s pulse. Only unconscious, not dead. He let out a relieved breath.

Ji Ling nodded his thanks to the Abyss Lord, then stepped past Lord Wangshu and quickly entered the small building.

He called to Xie Yongci and Ji Yao: “Hurry.”

The three entered the building together. The first floor was where Lord Wangshu slept. The second floor held another small space, where the Life-Draining Silk formed an oval cocoon—a full person’s height.

Ji Ling said, “Cut him out. He’s suffocating.”

Inside the cocoon was Xie Yongci’s student—Ji Yao’s classmate. But his breathing was already so faint that Ji Ling hadn’t initially sensed there was still a living person in there.

The person was inside the cocoon. Ji Ling didn’t dare use the True Solar Fire to burn it, so he condensed air into blades, cutting through the thick cocoon bit by bit.

Xie Yongci and Ji Yao pitched in, peeling away the layered threads, revealing the young man inside, his face purple from suffocation. Together, they hauled him out.

The young man had been suffocated for quite a while. His breathing was faint, his lips pale. If he hadn’t been a cultivator, with a vitality stronger than ordinary people, he would have long since gone to the Yellow Springs.

A student missing for half an hour had become this. Xie Yongci hurriedly took the person and carried him down, laying him out on the open ground.

The young man’s face was terrible. Ji Yao had no time to say much, kneeling over her classmate, pressing her hands on his chest for CPR.

Xie Yongci went to fetch water from under the bridge, carefully moistening the young man’s lips.

Bai Ze knew some medicine, and he also wanted to get away from the Abyss Lord, so he knelt in front of the young man and felt his pulse.

Seeing the young man’s condition gradually improve, his face no longer mottled purple, relief appeared on everyone’s faces. Ji Yao in particular beamed with joy.

What a warm, lively scene.

Ji Ling didn’t know CPR or medicine. He didn’t crowd in, but instead looked toward the Abyss Lord in the shadows.

With Lord Wangshu unconscious, the moon’s light faded, and the small building sank back into deep darkness.

The Abyss Lord sat by the white marble bridge, arms resting casually on his legs, half his face buried in shadow, his posture relaxed and indifferent. He said nothing, silently looking up at the pitch-black vault.

Ji Ling looked down. Blood dripped from his fingertips, spattering the stone slabs beside the small building.

Ji Ling rose and walked toward him.

He stopped two steps in front of the Abyss Lord and said softly, “Your Excellency, I’ve put you to trouble.”

The Abyss Lord glanced at him indifferently and looked away. “If you know it’s trouble, don’t summon me next time.”

But Ji Ling knew in his heart: if the Abyss Lord hadn’t wanted to come, he could have simply ignored the summon.

Ji Ling lowered his eyes, looked at the Abyss Lord’s palm, and pressed his lips together. “Forgive me. I promised not to use my position as Contract Master to pressure you. I broke my word first.”

His gaze was too burning. Staring so fixedly at one point, focused as a painter admiring a painting, as a physician inspecting a wound. The Abyss Lord’s wrist trembled imperceptibly, then he put his hand behind his back, concealing his palm. “Looking at how you brought This Venerable out, I’ll let it go this once. No next time.”

With that, black mist surged up before him. The Abyss Lord stood, about to step into it.

Ji Ling seized his wrist.

This move was truly audacious. Even the Abyss Lord was startled, his dark-red eyes widening slightly. Then he pulled his hand, trying to shake Ji Ling off, but Ji Ling held him in a death grip. For a moment, the Abyss Lord couldn’t break free.

Angry, he said, “How dare you! Let go!”

Ji Ling said, “No.”

He didn’t yield. He calmly met the Abyss Lord’s gaze, his dark-gold eyes full of the Abyss Lord’s reflection, as if only he could fit inside them.

Ji Ling said, “Your Excellency was hurt because of me. My conscience is uneasy. Please let me see your palm.”

The Abyss Lord looked away, refusing to meet his gaze. The ears hidden beneath his hair seemed to redden. He turned his body and tugged his hand again. “No need. My fighting style has always been like this. You don’t need to feel guilty.”

Still couldn’t pull it away.

Ji Ling clung to his arm, his grip strong enough that the Abyss Lord couldn’t break free—yet his voice was incredibly soft.

Ji Ling lowered his raven-wing lashes and said quietly, “Your Excellency, let me look. I truly feel guilty. If you won’t let me look, I’ll definitely be unable to sleep at night, unable to eat, thinking about it constantly.”

The restrained arm stiffened for a moment, then subtly slackened.

A hint of a smile curved Ji Ling’s lips. He pulled the Abyss Lord’s arm over and made him sit beside the small building. This time, the Abyss Lord didn’t struggle—he stiffly cooperated. Ji Ling found it strange: it wasn’t a heaven-destroying Evil God he was leading by the hand, but a cat.

He held the Abyss Lord’s palm, then reached into his own clothes. Rriip—he tore off a strip of fabric.

The Abyss Lord was startled, his dark-red pupils widening again as he stared at Ji Ling’s torn collar.

Ji Ling was dressed as a young mortal man: an ordinary coat over the outside, with only a single layer against his skin. So this fabric could barely be called underclothes.

He lowered his eyes. “Forgive me, Your Excellency. There’s no proper bandaging material at hand. Though I wore this against my skin, a deity’s body doesn’t collect dust and rarely sweats, so it’s more or less clean. Please make do.”

At whichever word it was, the Abyss Lord’s fingers gave a faint twitch.

He looked away and said evenly, “Mm. Fine.”

The Abyss Lord was an Evil God. His sinister Yin Qi could only cause harm; it had no power to heal. Though his health bar was thick and hard to deplete, once wounded, he healed no faster than the average person. Ji Ling’s Spiritual Power could promote wound healing, but his nature clashed with the Abyss Lord’s. Rushing to heal him would only make matters worse.

For now, all he could do was wrap it up simply.

Ji Ling knelt on one knee before him, holding up that palm, bandaging it with complete focus.

Soft cloth wound around, layer after layer. It was a little rough, a little itchy. The Abyss Lord held back the urge to pull away. When Ji Ling finally finished the last loop, he snatched his hand back and shifted uncomfortably. “Done. This Venerable has matters to attend to. I’m leaving.”

Ji Ling said, “Don’t move!”

The previous motion had torn the wound open again. Bright red blood overflowed the bandage, staining it red in an instant.

“Don’t move!”

In his urgency, Ji Ling spoke the Incantation once more.

A Contract Master’s incantation was very hard for the contracted party to defy. Though because of the enormous gap in their ranks, Ji Ling couldn’t control the Abyss Lord into doing things, freezing him for a few seconds was still easy.

The Abyss Lord had never expected Ji Ling to pull this. His pupils dilated, then his brows slammed down hard and his face darkened, visibly furious.

“Ji Ling! Using the Incantation again and again—do you truly think This Venerable won’t lay a hand on you? I’ll give you three seconds. Let go! Otherwise, don’t blame This Venerable for…”

Before he could finish the “otherwise,” he stopped short.

Ji Ling touched his palm—the place where the blood was seeping out.

His touch was very light, very gentle—like pressing a cat’s paw pad, or stroking a feather.

The cool, handsome deity knelt before him, tilting his face up, staring fixedly at the Abyss Lord, his dark-gold eyes full of worry.

“Does it hurt?”

Ji Ling asked.