Chapter 58

Lin Yu leaned back to dodge the strike, but before she could even steady herself, Fu Ming thrust another sword at her!

Lin Yu watched the cold blade come at her again. Di Ting grabbed her and pulled her away a few steps, but Lin Yu shook him off and walked in the opposite direction.

Di Ting panicked. "I told you, he's a demon cultivator! What are you running toward him for?!"

Surprise flickered in Fu Ming's eyes. This woman whose face he couldn't make out hadn't fled—she was charging straight at his blade?

Fine. This was clearly a provocation!

And so Fu Ming's resolve to kill Lin Yu only hardened. She was asking for death!

The instant the blade was about to touch Lin Yu's skin, she suddenly reached out to grab Qingxian's body. Quick as lightning, Qingxian abruptly changed direction!

With a great flip, Qingxian slipped free of Fu Ming's hand and flew into Lin Yu's grasp!

Qingxian obediently returned to Lin Yu's hand, its tip now aimed at Fu Ming!

The moment Qingxian returned to Lin Yu, a sword cry rang out, and a brilliant red light enveloped the blade. Fu Ming's pupils contracted. This was... a blood pact!

She had formed a blood pact with his sword!

Qingxian was a divine weapon forged by generations of Yu Kingdom emperors over their lifetimes, a symbol of the royal house. It had only been passed to Fu Ming on the night before the previous emperor's Ascension. Fu Ming's gaze landed on Lin Yu's slender fingers.

Fu Ming laughed for no reason—a laugh of fury.

His own sword had turned traitor, defecting to the enemy at the moment of life and death to turn against him?

"You're asking for death." Fu Ming gritted his teeth in rage.

At that very moment, a batch of ghost messengers happened to be leading newly captured vengeful spirits along the Yellow Spring Road. A dozen grey-white ghosts floated along the path, and the moment they crossed the Ghost Gate, they witnessed this bizarre scene.

A demon cultivator in black robes, looking noble and exalted, had appeared in the Underworld without a care. Their Lord Di Ting stood off to the side, not daring to move. The usually bustling Yellow Spring Road was completely devoid of ghosts.

Even the dullest soul could tell something was wrong.

The newly arrived ghost messengers dropped the chains binding their ghosts and tried to flee. Fu Ming turned his head and spotted the vengeful spirits delivered right to his door.

The vengeful spirits didn't have time to run after the messengers. Fu Ming raised his hand, and a sinister black mist engulfed their bodies. Wails and howls rose from within the darkness.

But the cries ceased in an instant. The massive black mist contracted rapidly, refining all the vengeful spirits within. Fu Ming still wore that sinister smile as he crooked a finger at the black mist, and it flew into his hand.

Holding the eerie black mist, Fu Ming met Lin Yu's gaze and spoke calmly. "Now... it's your turn."

Lin Yu frowned. It wasn't hard to tell Fu Ming didn't remember who she was. But if he had truly lost his memory, why would he harbor such murderous intent toward someone he'd just met?

Lin Yu looked around. The ghost messengers hadn't fled far, and Fu Ming hadn't touched them. Di Ting had stayed by her side the whole time, and Fu Ming's target wasn't him either.

Since Fu Zheng's death, the Demon Tribe's inner core had exploded and tainted Fu Ming. From the moment he opened his eyes and saw Lin Yu, he'd wanted her dead. Lin Yu pondered the reason.

Then her gaze fell on Qingxian in her hand. That's it!

The moment Fu Ming opened his eyes and saw Lin Yu, she was holding Qingxian—and Qingxian was his sword. A person only feels hostility toward someone who threatens them or harms their interests, and at a further extreme, murderous intent.

Lin Yu had taken his sword from him twice right before his eyes. Anyone would lose their temper over that.

Lin Yu's thoughts raced. He still remembered Qingxian was his sword, which meant Fu Ming hadn't lost his memory—he just didn't recognize Lin Yu. She needed to come up with a plausible reason for taking Qingxian.

But by now, Fu Ming was already preparing to hurl the black mist forged from those vengeful spirits at her!

No time left. She had to gamble! Lin Yu stared at Fu Ming, moving a fraction faster. She casually tossed Qingxian aside and ran toward him.

At the same moment, the black mist surged toward Lin Yu, laden with the wailing of countless vengeful spirits!

Lin Yu pressed her lips together. She brushed past the black mist at the risk of her life, barely dodging Fu Ming's attack. The black mist missed its mark, then doubled back to chase her!

Fu Ming watched this woman running at him for no apparent reason. He gathered magic in his palm, about to strike—but Lin Yu was too fast. Caught off guard, her palm cracked across his face.

The speed and force of the slap left Di Ting dumbstruck. The black mist formed from those vengeful spirits also dispersed into nothing.

Fu Ming's head was knocked to the side. By the time he recovered, he had grabbed Lin Yu by the throat!

Lin Yu felt her feet leave the ground, her whole body losing its anchor—but she didn't panic. She gripped Fu Ming's wrist in return, her nails digging deep into his flesh.

But Fu Ming seemed to feel no pain. His expression didn't change in the slightest.

"You ungrateful child, daring to raise a hand against your own mother?" Lin Yu could barely breathe. She held her breath and forced the words out.

Fu Ming's hand paused, confusion flickering in his eyes. Seeing this, Lin Yu slapped his wrist twice. "Let go, you brat! Are you trying to commit matricide?"

Anyone who could wield Qingxian—besides the successive emperors of Yu Kingdom—would naturally include the empress. In Fu Ming's memory, the one who could take his sword would surely include his mother.

Fu Ming didn't release her, as if weighing the matter. But his emotions had clearly improved. The strength in his grip lessened, and his arm slowly lowered. Lin Yu's feet finally touched the ground.

Though Fu Ming hadn't been convinced, Lin Yu confirmed it: Fu Ming had his memories, just frozen before the previous emperor and empress's deaths. Steadying herself, she cleared her throat and tested him. "Fu Ming?"

"Fu Ming."

Fu Ming still didn't move, but his grip loosened further. A faint breath of air entered Lin Yu's lungs, just barely enough to breathe.

Seeing that this was working, Lin Yu ignored the hand around her neck and reached up to touch his face.

Fu Ming's mind was hazy. Through the fog, he heard someone call his name, and then a cool temperature brushed against his cheek.

Like fresh snow in winter, or a spring breeze blowing head-on.

Lin Yu's fingers traced between Fu Ming's brows. He stood frozen, not moving. Then his vision plunged into darkness as Lin Yu's cool palm covered his eyes.

Her palm had absorbed some of Fu Ming's warmth, no longer so cold. Fu Ming closed his eyes.

With her other hand, Lin Yu gently stroked the scar on Fu Ming's wrist. His hand fell limp at his side, and Lin Yu finally freed herself from the grip on her neck. Fu Ming's hands hung at his sides. Afraid he might relapse, Lin Yu didn't hesitate to wrap her arms around him, pinning his hands in place.

Lin Yu turned to look at Di Ting behind her and shot him a glance. Di Ting instantly understood—Lin Yu wanted him to help restrain Fu Ming. Since there was no telling whether Fu Ming would attack again, and time was short, Di Ting quickly shifted into beast form and raced toward the Ghost King's Palace for reinforcements.

Once Di Ting was gone, Lin Yu turned back to look at Fu Ming. She only came up to his shoulder. She leaned back slightly to look at him, and suddenly, Fu Ming lowered his head and buried his face in the crook of her neck.

Fu Ming's hands, which had hung at his sides, suddenly rose to wrap around her in return. He nuzzled against her neck, his scorching breath spilling across her skin. A faint, elusive fragrance of jasmine surrounded him.

Fu Ming held her tighter. Lin Yu's body went stiff—she felt his cool lips press against her collarbone. His breathing tickled her.

Di Ting hadn't returned yet. The surrounding sands blew in the wind with no one in sight, as if they were the only two left in the world. The rustling sound of wind and sand echoed in Lin Yu's ears, and she instinctively patted Fu Ming's back.

"Go! Seize him!" A rough voice sounded from behind. Di Ting was back—and with him came countless ghost messengers. They arrived like an army pressing down, shrouded in white mist, surrounding Lin Yu and Fu Ming in an instant.

A gigantic spider's web spiraled above their heads. Thick white mist obscured Lin Yu's vision, and a deafening bell sound swallowed everything.

"Take him to the Ghost King and lock him up! Hurry! Don't wait for him to react—just act!"

Lin Yu looked back toward where the voice came from. Because of the white mist, visibility was extremely low. She could barely see anything, only barely able to locate the others by sound.

Di Ting had clearly misread Lin Yu's intention. Fu Ming's identity was completely exposed now. Handing Fu Ming to the Ghost King—he was a demon cultivator. Even if the Ghost King killed him through some scheme, he could still answer to the world.

Everyone hated anything connected to the Demon Tribe.

She couldn't let them join forces and take Fu Ming. But Lin Yu also had no way to restore his clarity. Until Fu Ming came to his senses, they couldn't leave the Ghost Realm. Lin Yu found herself caught in a dilemma.

Lin Yu felt Fu Ming tremble slightly in her arms. He raised his head and looked around at the surrounding white mist. The sinister aura in his eyes deepened. Suddenly, her arms were empty—Fu Ming was gone.

Lin Yu stood alone, lost in the white mist. A sudden panic gripped her.

The bell sound that shook the heavens grew louder. It was rhythmic, rattling Lin Yu's head. Amid the chaos, she strained to catch other sounds, trying to break through the mist. Then, without warning, the world spun, and the bell hovering above came crashing down, slamming hard into the ground!

The bell fell silent, and the white mist receded with it. The sight before her made Lin Yu's pupils contract.

The windswept Yellow Spring Road had become a battlefield. Corpses lay piled in disarray across the ground, blood nearly flooding into the earth and dyeing it crimson.

Fu Ming had gone mad with killing. Hundreds of ghost messengers had been annihilated before his eyes in an instant, blood splattering everywhere. Di Ting huffed and puffed, its eyes wide with fury as it glared at Fu Ming. A great number of ghost messengers stood behind Di Ting, not daring to advance. Fu Ming stood with his hands clasped behind his back, his dark pupils eerily hollow.

The two sides were locked in a standoff. Then, suddenly, the earth began to tremble again. Everyone turned toward the source of the tremor, and Di Ting's face lit up with joy. "Bai Ze! Come! Kill him!"

Bai Ze strode up beside Di Ting. Two ancient divine beasts of the Underworld, together, let out an earth-shaking roar.

Bai Ze and Di Ting had accompanied each other for ten thousand years. One glance between them sufficed; no words were needed. Bai Ze and Di Ting exchanged a look, nodded at each other, and a massive formation of magical light appeared on the ground. They struck at Fu Ming together!

A demon cultivator might be formidable, but no one could slaughter a thousand ghost messengers and still have the strength to face two ancient divine beasts. Fu Ming was bound to lose!

Fu Ming's pupils remained devoid of emotion. He didn't realize how dire the situation was. He gathered magic in his hand, ready to fight Di Ting and Bai Ze. Seeing him prepare for battle, Lin Yu used a teleportation spell and rushed toward him.

If he couldn't win, he had to run!

At this point, she couldn't care less about the whole "demon cultivators can't leave the Underworld" nonsense. She'd wanted to grab Fu Ming and flee first, but she'd underestimated the power of two ancient divine beasts. The moment she caught Fu Ming and faced him, the flood of formations came crashing down at her!

Lin Yu spat out a mouthful of blood. She struggled to lift her head and look at Fu Ming. The man before her remained indifferent. As she fell, she heard the buzzing shouts around her.

"Idiots! You hit the wrong person!"

"She won't survive."

Hu Sheng's hoarse voice from days ago surfaced unbidden in her mind. "Great misfortune is about to befall you."

"The Tian Shuang star grows dimmer and dimmer, on the verge of falling. This is no good sign."