Chapter 202: Wind Elegance

Ning Changjiu saw Night Apart again four days after that battle.

A withered meteor streaked across the sky, crashing deep into the wilderness. Ning Changjiu sensed the anomaly and immediately ventured into the depths of the wilderness, carrying a withered branch and a sword at his side. After crossing a swamp shrouded in toxic mist, he found Night Apart in a valley resembling a broken scallop, lying on a patch of sloped, withered grass.

Night Apart was now a broken puppet. His arms were charred black, riddled with wood-grain cracks, like pieces of burnt wood still clinging to his body. He hung alone on the rock wall, most of the threads of fate that had pierced his body burned away, hanging simply on the stone like a spider caught in a forest fire.

When Ning Changjiu arrived, Night Apart raised his head. His faceless face was even less human-like, half burned black, half smudged dark grey. Close up, one could even smell the scent of burning wood. His knuckles hung limply, yet he strained to discern the newcomer, despite having no eyes.

"You've come?" Night Apart's voice seemed to emanate from nowhere.

Ning Changjiu softly hummed in response, leaped onto the rock wall, cut the tangled threads, and lowered him to the ground. Night Apart’s body was shriveled and deformed from the intense heat, and his voice sounded like dry, hot air expelled from a burning building.

Ning Changjiu hadn't expected Night Apart to be alive. He wanted to stabilize his injuries but didn't know where to begin.

"Don't waste your efforts..." Night Apart twisted his stiff neck joints, and black, broken charcoal crumbled down.

Ning Changjiu asked, "Was your opponent the Sin Lord?"

Night Apart hummed, replying, "He is the unrivaled lord of the divine realm. Even if it was just a projection, we could never have won against him."

Ning Changjiu asked again, "Where is he now?"

Night Apart said, "It won't be long before he returns. When he does, you, I, and Siming… no one will escape."

"By what right does he condemn me?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Even the Lord of the Divine Realm would suffer backlash if they abused their authority.

Night Apart chuckled bitterly. "Don't forget, this isn't the outside world; it's self-contained… This place is already beyond the rules, so of course the Sin Lord doesn't have to abide by them. If he wants to accuse you, he'll find an excuse."

Ning Changjiu fell silent for a long time. He knew that if the Sin Lord refused to restrain himself and arbitrarily imposed guilt, they would have no room to maneuver.

"Is there no way at all?" Ning Changjiu asked.

"He's also injured, very severely," Night Apart said. "Under the suppression of the realm's laws, he can't recover quickly. This is our chance."

"What should I do?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Night Apart explained, "Acquire the authorities of fate and time. When they converge, you'll possess the power to cleave the heavens. Perhaps that's the only chance to defeat the Sin Lord."

Ning Changjiu had already guessed his proposition, showing no surprise. He simply knelt, looking at Night Apart calmly, and said, "Alright, state your conditions."

Night Apart's throat seemed choked with lime, his voice growing increasingly indistinct.

"Save me," he said.

"How do I save you?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Night Apart, with an asthmatic voice, said, "My heart is blocked… Cut open my chest, help me clean it, and then I'll tell you the rest."

Ning Changjiu's brows furrowed. The scent of burning wood filled his nostrils. He looked at the disfigured puppet, unable to comprehend why a puppet would have a heart.

"Quickly," Night Apart urged, his voice sounding like he was struggling for breath, even though he had no mouth or nose.

Ning Changjiu drew his iron sword, aimed it at Night Apart's left chest, infused it with spiritual energy, and plunged it in. Night Apart's body trembled violently, his joints creaking. Wood ash fell along the blade, and then the faint pulsation of a heart reached Ning Changjiu. He cut open the chest with his sword and saw a beating heart.

Ning Changjiu carved out the heart. Night Apart convulsed as if electrocuted, his head slumping limply like a corpse.

The heart throbbed. Its surface was covered in charred black wood, gleaming like varnish, with countless cracks from which viscous liquid oozed, emitting a foul stench.

Ning Changjiu found a flowing dark spring beneath a nearby rock. He carefully used spiritual energy to dislodge the grime from the heart's surface, then used water to wash it. After the surface grime was cleansed, Ning Changjiu suddenly let out a surprised sound.

It was no ordinary heart.

It was crystalline and translucent, its blood vessels like matchmaker's red threads, quietly suspended within. Its surface also bore several delicate orifices.

"It's a Seven-Orifice Exquisite Heart!" the Sword Spirit exclaimed, unable to contain itself. "Legend has it there are faceless people in this world whose seven orifices are not on their face but grow on their heart. I thought it was just a myth, but it's actually true."

Ning Changjiu also knew the story of the Seven-Orifice Exquisite Heart. He recalled Night Apart's blank face when he turned into a puppet and suddenly understood.

The Sword Spirit trembled, saying, "Legend says that anyone who eats a Seven-Orifice Exquisite Heart can easily cross the threshold of the Five Paths… Many years ago, there was a tyrant whose nation was in peril. A loyal minister advised him, but he wouldn't listen. The minister cut open his own heart in the royal court, and that heart was a Seven-Orifice Heart. It was devoured by a demon fox beside the tyrant, and that fox immediately grew nine tails, reaching the peak of the Five Paths before going into seclusion in a volcano."

Ning Changjiu looked at the beating heart in his hand and gently shook his head. "I don't believe in such fortuitous encounters."

The Sword Spirit sighed, knowing that if his impending calamity was truly inescapable twelve years from now, then all such opportunities would indeed be in vain.

Ning Changjiu returned to Night Apart with the heart and placed it back into his body. Night Apart’s previously limp limbs regained strength, though the incision on his chest couldn't close, allowing everyone to see the heart expanding and contracting within his chest cavity.

Night Apart turned his head slightly. Although he had no facial features, Ning Changjiu could sense his smile.

"Fortunately, you didn't eat it," Night Apart said, extending a carbonized hand with difficulty to cover his chest. "The fate of that fox demon back then was not good. Under Tribulation Peak, souls stripped bare, branding iron melting bones, disembowelment, dismemberment… That is the true destiny of a Seven-Orifice Exquisite Heart."

Ning Changjiu had no reaction, merely stating blandly, "I just don't like eating offal."

Night Apart also smiled and said, "Someone like you truly might have a chance to defeat him."

"What should I do?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Night Apart glanced at the crow feathers swirling around Ning Changjiu, showing no surprise. He said earnestly, "Spirit, take Siming and me as your summoned spirits. You will then possess both the power of fate and time simultaneously."

Ning Changjiu's brows subtly raised. On his first day leaving the Abyss of Time, he had seen such spirit pacts. They were like powerful acquired spirits that could be summoned at any time, connected to one's own cultivation, like steel swords growing from bone.

Ning Changjiu asked, puzzled, "Can humans form pacts with other humans?"

Night Apart clarified, "We are not purely human. I am a puppet, and Siming is a porcelain figure. In a sense, we are also spirits that crawled out of the Abyss of Embryonic Spirits…"

This was currently the only way to defeat the Sin Lord.

"How do I form the pact?" Ning Changjiu asked.

Night Apart coughed a few times. He tried to stand, but his burnt, wooden body couldn't stabilize. He said weakly, "Just follow the spirit-summoning pact from the Abyss of Time. We will then become symbiotic with you… This is an unbreakable bond."

Ning Changjiu didn't believe Night Apart's claim of an unbreakable bond. He even anticipated that Night Apart and Siming would likely betray him after the decisive battle.

"If a dragon is ahead, we can only raise a tiger to fight it," the Sword Spirit asserted. "First, subdue this sick tiger, then we'll go to Broken Realm City and collect that white tiger too."

Ning Changjiu largely ignored the Sword Spirit's teasing.

"Take me back first," Night Apart said weakly, his head slumping again.

Ning Changjiu carried Night Apart over mountains and through valleys. They finally crossed a river where stone beasts were buried, and the village lay beyond this river.

Shao Xiaoli came out to greet him. When she saw the puppet on his back, her first thought was that her Big Brother had bought her a new toy. Just as she was about to blush sweetly, she saw him put the puppet on the ground. Shao Xiaoli glimpsed the continuously beating heart in its chest, and a faint pang resonated in her own.

Ning Changjiu pulled Shao Xiaoli aside, his expression serious, and gave her many solemn instructions. Shao Xiaoli's face was a study in disbelief. She looked at Ning Changjiu, pointing to herself, filled with self-doubt.

Ning Changjiu sighed, rubbing her head, conveying the feeling that she was the only one left in the organization, so this task could only be assigned to her.

Shao Xiaoli, tasked in a crisis, stood ramrod straight, her face a picture of bitterness.

When Night Apart awoke again, his limbs were still immobile, though he looked a bit more lucid. He surveyed the room, watching Blood Feather Monarch stand by the bed with folded wings, staring at him, while Ning Changjiu cultivated the Asura Divine Record under the eaves.

Night Apart said nothing, just turned his head and stared blankly for a while. Only when Ning Changjiu completed a full cultivation cycle did he slowly speak.

"So, you've been deceiving me all along," Night Apart chuckled softly. Even after battling the Lord of the Divine Realm, his mind was open, and he felt no regrets about death. But at this moment, he still couldn't suppress his shock. "The 81 forms of the Asura Divine Record—you'd already mastered them? What exactly are you?"

Ning Changjiu opened his eyes and said, "Weren't you always deceiving me too?"

Night Apart laughed bitterly, "But you cultivated faster than me… Not only did I not deceive you, but my actions were even used as evidence by the Sin Lord, and I almost died because of it."

"Clever people are often harmed by their own cleverness," Ning Changjiu replied casually, getting straight to the point. "Without further ado, let's form the pact. I don't know when the Sin Lord will arrive. These black feathers always keep me locked, and as soon as he appears, he can find me instantly."

Night Apart nodded, then added, "I have one more condition."

"Speak."

"If we are truly fortunate enough to defeat the Sin Lord, when you leave this world, find a way to take us with you. At that time, we will become divine officials and heavenly lords, and we will enthrone you as the new Lord of the Divine Realm." Night Apart stated his condition.

Ning Changjiu was unmoved by the grand promise of becoming Lord of the Divine Realm. He said, "Didn't you say only one person could leave this place?"

Night Apart replied, "When one achieves enlightenment, their pets indeed cannot ascend to heaven with them. But perhaps beyond heaven, there's a way to open this world. I only hope you won't abandon us."

"Who says I can't ascend to heaven! How could Master Ning abandon me!" Blood Feather Monarch protested indignantly from the side.

Ning Changjiu ignored him, nodded, and said, "I promise."

Night Apart did not ask him to make any written agreements or oaths. He extended his hand and said, "Let's begin. I will tell you how to form the pact."

Ning Changjiu saw Night Apart's body tremble slightly, and words emanated from his limbs. Ning Changjiu felt as if he had returned to his first day in Broken Realm City, with the scriptures of the spirit-summoning ritual flowing from a light screen, guiding him forward.

Only now, he stood on the other side of that light screen.

Night Apart finished reciting the scriptures required for the pact and extended his charred, dry hand. Ning Changjiu also extended his hand. Their spirits, like two slender currents, burst forth in a brilliant flash of light the moment they touched, illuminating the spiritual sea.

"From today forth, I pledge to be your loyal divine servant," Night Apart said with a smile, his words devoid of any superfluous emotion.

"Forever devout, never betraying, serving you as my master, pursuing you as my eternal faith…"

As these words were spoken, Ning Changjiu's and Night Apart's spiritual seas merged.

Ning Changjiu felt as if a crack had opened above his qi sea. The river of fate descended from the heavens, pouring into his body. His body trembled, simultaneously resisting and craving this new authority.

After a long while, the commotion within him subsided. When he opened his eyes, he subconsciously touched his right pupil. A trace of golden light spilled from it. This golden glow was different from the light of the Golden Crow; it was more like a lens. Through this lens, he could see countless interwoven strings of time, and within those strings lay countless images.

These were destinies.

Night Apart had become his spirit, so he also shared Night Apart's abilities.

At this moment, the puppet lay weakly on the bed. He seemed even more weakened and said, "In my current state, I can only share my authority with you. As for fighting on your behalf, you can try to tame Siming."

Ning Changjiu nodded. "I'll try to persuade her. Where is she now?"

Night Apart smiled faintly. "She wouldn't be happy to see you right now."

"Why?"

"She's been tied to a cross above Broken Realm City, looking as miserable as can be. Black snakes guard her below, making it hard for anyone to approach. But even if you save her, she might not listen to you. That woman is extremely arrogant; even if she submits inwardly, she won't utter a single word of obedience," Night Apart said softly.

Ning Changjiu had no inclination for tenderness towards women. He said indifferently, "If she doesn't obey, I'll beat her until she does."

Night Apart also laughed. He suddenly felt a perverse anticipation for the sight of that woman kneeling, subservient to someone. What a tragically beautiful sight it would be if a flower as cold and proud as an unparalleled snow lotus were to fall into the mortal world and become nothing but mud?

Night Apart suddenly extended his hand.

Ning Changjiu, puzzled, extended his own hand, asking, "Is the pact not yet complete?"

Night Apart smiled and shook his head. His withered, blackened hand gently touched Ning Changjiu's.

"Good luck," Night Apart said, as if delivering his final prophecy of fate.

This was the fifth day after the divine battle. Ning Changjiu, with complex emotions, headed towards the Royal City. Blood Feather Monarch carried Night Apart, following close behind, ensuring the spirit bond's effectiveness.

Three thousand *li* from the Royal City, Ning Changjiu stopped.

Because the black feathers, which had always maintained a distance from him, also stopped.

The black feathers blocked his path, transforming into the image of the Sin Lord—a projection of a projection of the Sin Lord.

Each black feather was a shadow of the Sin Lord.

The Sin Lord's phantom quietly stared at Ning Changjiu, his voice seeming to come from the sky:

"Do not cross the Thunder Pool. Those who disobey will die by their crimes."

Without thinking, Ning Changjiu immediately drew his sword.

Siming was still nailed to the cross, a crow perched on her shoulder, black snakes coiling below. The wind blew ceaselessly, making her white dress flutter, a tragically beautiful sight.

Her skin remained lustrous, her red lips like blood, yet her ice-like eyes had lost much of their luster. She had already sealed her five senses, seeking to banish those humiliating perceptions, but now her spirit withered, and her divinity, like a flower standing in the desolate autumn wind, had its petals plucked away one by one.

She wondered how much longer such days would last.

She silently counted the time, occasionally opening her eyes to gaze into the distance, looking for any sign of someone approaching from outside Broken Realm City.

And Siming's occasional display of vulnerability made this scene even more poignant.

One evening, a painter tasked with documenting this scene suddenly stood up while sketching her body, tearing the entire painting to shreds and shouting, "How can a mortal's brush defile the face of a divine child?" Those around him tried to restrain him, telling him she was no goddess, but a wicked demoness, the source of all misfortune. Yet, the painter refused to believe them. He was a painter; he knew her beauty better than anyone. No matter how many times he tried to revise it, his trembling brush could not capture even a fraction of her likeness.

He found some unknown strength, broke free from their grasp, and rushed towards the cross, intending to kneel and worship at the feet of the divine maiden. But as soon as he approached, he was swallowed whole by the black snake, leaving no trace.

Siming watched this scene unfold below her, without joy or sorrow. These were merely minor interludes that changed nothing.

The scaffold remained, and the beauty remained.

The light of the fifth day faded, and the sky plunged into darkness.

She liked the night, not only because she held authority over it, but because there were fewer eyes watching in the darkness.

"It seems I'm destined to never be married," Siming thought, and chuckled softly.

After a night, the light of the sixth day dawned.

This was a special day. The few remaining dancers in the entertainment quarter had rehearsed for days, and their performance was finally set to open today. It was a rare moment of bitter joy in the dilapidated, rebuilding city.

Siming watched the dancers busily moving between the temporarily erected tents, lost in thought.

Time passed slowly, and the scene below grew livelier. They had cleared a large open space, erected a tall stage, and even put up a red banner that read: "Immortals Imprison Demons, Suppress Demoness."

The gates of the Royal City, rarely opened, were finally unbarred, and ragged commoners squeezed in to join the spectacle.

Siming had thought she wouldn't be angered by such childish games, but for some reason, as she watched a cross being erected on the stage, her body couldn't help but tremble, and her cheeks flushed slightly.

"Where's Xiang'er? Where did Xiang'er go? She's supposed to play the demoness! How can she be missing at such a crucial moment?" A plump middle-aged woman looked around, striding quickly through the crowd, occasionally standing on tiptoe to peer over heads, searching for someone.

"Xiang'er? Wasn't she just here? Why is that little girl running off again?"

"Go find her, quickly!"

The middle-aged woman put her hands on her hips, dispatching those around her to find the girl named Xiang'er. They scattered quickly to search.

In a pavilion not far from the stage, the door suddenly opened, and a young girl rushed in, waving her hands and speaking rapidly: "Sister Xiang'er, Sister Xiang'er, why are you still here? Everyone is looking for you!"

The girl called Xiang'er was sitting in front of a mirror, quietly gazing at her reflection. She tilted her face slightly, examining her makeup for any flaws. The blush and eyeshadow had been applied by the best makeup artist, and her lips were as vibrant as fire, without a single imperfection.

The urging girl gazed at her sister's incomparably radiant face in the mirror, and for a moment, she too was mesmerized, momentarily forgetting her words.

This sister… she seemed to be new. But besides her, it seemed there was no one else who could play the demoness, right?

While she mused, the girl in the red dress had already risen.

The surrounding candlelight seemed to quieten, its light stolen by her exquisitely made-up face. Her figure was petite yet striking, with narrow shoulders and hips, and a gracefully curved waist and back. As her slender, straight legs stepped forward, her hair, cascading to her waist, swayed gently.

When the urging girl came back to her senses, her sister had already reached her side and touched the girl's head. The girl then noticed that beneath her sister's delicate, jade-like fingers, there were faint, pale calluses, yet even these calluses appeared small and charming.

The little girl softly said that everyone was waiting for her, then immediately went to tidy the table. She noticed a strange pattern carved on the dressing table, but the little girl merely took it for some kind of mystical totem and didn't think much of it.

The girl in the red dress had already left the room.

She descended from the pavilion and walked towards the crowd.

Suddenly, silence fell all around.

The girl's red dress was like waves of flame, swaying gracefully. Her head was slightly bowed, her sleeves gently draped in front of her body. Her noble bearing was undeniable. The curves of her figure, though not exaggerated, were perfectly proportioned and exceedingly beautiful. On her lightly made-up face, her exquisite nose and rosy, cherry lips were like something from a poem or painting.

Many who looked at her, both men and women, felt their hearts skip a beat. They felt that all other scenes in their vision faded, leaving only the girl's red dress swaying in the breeze and her peerless beauty.

The girl's misty eyelashes lowered, and she gently curtsied to the crowd, performing a perfectly standard official bow.

"Do we have such a beautiful girl in our city?"

"She's so beautiful… The only one who could rival her is that demoness, right?"

"It's a pity this girl must be young; her figure hasn't fully developed yet."

"Is she really a woman from the entertainment quarter?"

The middle-aged woman listened to their discussions, a surge of pride swelling within her.

She had found this girl outside the city a day ago, at a time when she was struggling with casting the demoness role for the play. The moment she saw this young girl, she felt as if all her problems were solved. She hadn't expected that after dressing up, the girl would be ten or even a hundred times more beautiful than she had imagined. If she were brought into the entertainment quarter and properly trained, the quarter might be rebuilt even faster than the royal palace.

"My dear Xiang'er, why are you so late?" She hurried forward, affectionately taking her "dear daughter's" hand, waving her plump arms to clear a path, and led the girl backstage towards the stage.

The girl offered a small, apologetic smile to the others.

The slight curve of her red lips, her serene beauty, captivated countless people. Su Yanshu, the formerly acclaimed courtesan queen of the entertainment quarter, now seemed like common, gaudy makeup before this delicate and beautiful girl.

Siming watched her from afar, watching the girl whose charm dominated Broken Realm City, and felt a sense of emptiness in her heart.

She recognized her.

Even though she wore a splendid dress and heavy makeup, Siming recognized her at first glance.

She was clearly Ning Changjiu's little follower.

"Shao Xiaoli…" Siming whispered the name. She was nailed to the cold scaffold, watching this girl, whom she would have previously ignored, now bloom into her own dazzling beauty before her.