Tribulation Period Part 1

The Great Demon Lord had previously tried to stuff the Dream Bell onto others, but now he carried it with him, having had a change of heart. He didn't remember a single thing about his past, but he treasured this Dream Bell dearly, absolutely refusing to let anyone else touch it.

...

Especially not High Immortal Tianxiu, Xiao Fuxuan.

Each time it was touched, the Great Demon Lord's expression would become extremely peculiar. Clearly, when he didn't want to hold the Dream Bell himself before, the first person he had stuffed it on was Xiao Fuxuan.

While pretending to be dead, Ning Huaishan and Fang Chu saw everything clearly through the slits of their eyes, thinking to themselves, 'As expected of our City Lord. His moods are truly unpredictable and his thoughts hard to guess, flipping his attitude faster than one flips through a book.'

Wu Xingxue didn't want to keep going back and forth with Xiao Fuxuan over a small bell. His face showed nothing, but it made them look like they were hiding something.

So he simply closed his eyes, leaned against the carriage wall, and pretended to be asleep. He couldn't help but mock himself inwardly: 'A dignified Demon Lord, of all people to learn from, I'm learning from those two fools, Ning Huaishan and Fang Chu.'

A fool's method often had some effect. After pretending for a long time, Wu Xingxue actually started to feel a little sleepy.

***

According to Yi Wusheng, the world was too chaotic these days. All the Immortal Sects would set up Immortal Sect Restrictions and Barriers on the borders of their territories, just like the one blocking Great Sorrow Valley, all varying in size and strength.

They stood in forests in the suburbs, mountain wilds, and harbors, layered one after another, impossible to ignore.

In the past, those from the Immortal Sects with high cultivation could travel by sword and shrink the ground to a thousand li. It didn't take much effort to go from the Extreme North to the far south.

But now, that was no longer possible.

It wasn't that their cultivation had regressed and they couldn't fly. It was that in a single instant, they would have to forcibly pass through countless Restrictions and Barriers, alerting who knows how many Immortal Sects. Along the way, they would receive so many sealed letters from each sect that their hands would grow weak.

So, to avoid trouble these years, unless the situation was exceptionally urgent, most sects used specially made horse-drawn carriages for travel.

When the carriage paused for a moment or suddenly made a turn, it meant they had passed through another Restriction.

Along the way, one could estimate how many cities they had passed through just by this.

From Great Sorrow Valley to Fallen Flower Terrace, it would take about a full day's travel, passing through four cities.

In his drowsiness, Wu Xingxue felt the carriage jolt lightly and calculated in his mind that this should be the third city, not too far from Fallen Flower Terrace.

They had set out at dawn, and now it was nearing dusk. Perhaps because they were getting closer and closer to Zhaoye City, the Demon's Lair, the cold had become much heavier.

Wu Xingxue actually felt cold.

His fingers were hidden in his wide sleeves, his fingertips gently rubbing a hand warmer. The heat from the warmer was actually quite strong; holding it for a long time even made it slightly scalding, perfect for such a winter night.

But Wu Xingxue was still cold.

At first, he thought the chill had slipped in through the cracks of the carriage window, but later he realized that wasn't the case. It was more like something growing from within his bones, like dripping ice water flowing through the seams of his bones and his meridians.

The warmth in his hands was not enough to overcome that yin coldness.

He tried to circulate his Qi again, completing several cycles...

Colder.

Having no memories was troublesome. He didn't even blink when killing people, yet at a time like this, he was completely useless, like a piece of trash.

Wu Xingxue mocked himself in his heart.

He lazily opened a slit of his eyes, wanting to pull over a thick felt blanket. But he saw Xiao Fuxuan, his eyelids slightly lowered, his gaze falling upon him. It was unclear if he was looking at him, or simply staring off into space in his direction.

"..."

Wu Xingxue froze for a moment, then silently closed his eyes again.

He couldn't get the blanket now; it would make too much noise. As for the cold...

Then let him be cold. He was already a Demon Lord, could he possibly freeze to death!

Wrapped in the yin cold, he groggily fell asleep. Before completely succumbing to sleep, his consciousness struggled for a moment, not forgetting to clutch the Dream Bell in his hand to prevent it from being touched again.

Perhaps it was because he was holding that White Jade Bell that he fell into a muddled dream.

***

In the dream, he was also very cold. The same yin chill flowed through his entire body along his bones. But he was dressed in thin clothes and didn't even have a hand warmer.

His hands were empty. He stood in a vast courtyard, bending over to wash his hands by a section of green bamboo.

The moss on the stacked stones was frozen, showing that the water must be extremely cold, yet he seemed oblivious. He just lowered his eyes, looking at his own pale fingers.

"City Lord," someone called him.

Wu Xingxue flexed his fingers a couple of times before unhurriedly straightening up and turning his head to look.

He saw Fang Chu standing under a towering tree. Before his feet was a deep pool. Snow was piled up by its edge, and the water in the pool was dark and viscous.

At first glance, the water was black, but the bubbles that rose and splashed onto the snow were a deep crimson.

A hand struggled to emerge from the pool, clawing at the air twice. Fang Chu kicked out, and the hand sank back down.

A moment later, there was no more movement.

Fang Chu ground the blood from the sole of his shoe on the moss and reported, "City Lord, these two ignoramuses who were spouting nonsense have been dealt with. It's just unknown how much of what they said got out."

Wu Xingxue took a snow-white cloth towel from a silver rack by the bamboo pump. Wiping his hands, he said, "I don't remember faces. Where did these two little things come from?"

Fang Chu: "...Little things."

The corner of his mouth twitched.

His City Lord always used such terms. To an uninformed person, it might sound like some kind of nickname. However, those were just two fools who didn't know their place, probably spying for their master, recklessly probing into Quebuluo.

They happened to run into his City Lord when he was listless and in a bad mood, so they all ended up in the Blood Pool, without even their bones left.

Of course, if he were in a good mood, it might have been even worse.

Ning Huaishan had always been somewhat afraid of the Blood Pool, but not Fang Chu. He had only managed to survive by crawling out of this very pool, so he felt nothing at all.

He saw a small golden hook floating on the Blood Pool, hooked it out with his finger without a care, and after identifying it for a moment, said, "City Lord, there's a Soul Hook."

Zhaoye City, the Demon's Lair, was a place with neither human kindness nor human nature. In the residences of the Great Demon Lords, there were always many little Evil Demons raised to do their bidding.

When the Great Demon Lord could suppress them, they were obedient subordinates and attendants. If he was injured and weakened and could no longer suppress them, they were hungry wolves who would bite back at any moment, waiting for an opportunity to usurp his position.

For peace of mind and better control, some Demon Lords would fasten a Soul Hook at the vital point of those subordinates, comparable to a collar used to leash a dog in the mortal world.

These Soul Hooks were usually hidden under the skin and flesh, only revealing themselves after a thorough death.

If such a sinister thing existed in the Immortal Sects, no one would carve their name on it; they would wish that no one knew who did it. But in the Demon's Den, it was the exact opposite.

The Demon Lords were arrogant and domineering. Their Soul Hooks all had unique marks, completely unafraid of being seen by others. It was better if they were seen, as it helped build their fearsome reputations.

The more fearsome their reputation, the fewer dared to offend them, and the more submissive and obedient their subordinates became.

So, Fang Chu knew who it was with a single glance at the mark. "City Lord, it should be from Lord Sang's household."

Wu Xingxue: "Lord Sang, which Lord Sang?"

Fang Chu's face went slack.

Wu Xingxue let out a soft "oh." "You mean Sang Yu?"

Fang Chu really couldn't hold it in and muttered, "There's only one person with the surname Sang in all of Zhaoye City."

The implication was, who could he possibly be confused with!

But his City Lord was quite extraordinary. Perhaps because he himself was too strong, other people simply didn't register in his eyes. There were several famous Demon Lords in Zhaoye City, whose names struck fear into the hearts of everyone in the world, yet his City Lord sometimes had to pause to react upon hearing their names.

Especially this Sang Yu.