Transforming into a stunningly beautiful fox spirit, leaving a scar on the heart of a prodigy.

The feeling of the void tearing apart stopped.

The hand that had been gripping hers for so long suddenly let go, and Su Chang'an fell downwards, her back slamming against a hard surface.

It was soil, soil with a damp, grassy smell.

Su Chang'an took a deep breath.

The cold air filled my lungs, but it wasn't the deathly air from the abyss that smelled of rust and decaying laws; instead, it had a sweet, refreshing scent.

She opened her eyes.

The sunlight shone down.

It wasn't the kind of dazzling light that carried the pressure of laws; it was just ordinary sunlight, seeping through the gaps in the tree canopy overhead and falling on my face, warm and gentle.

Su Chang'an stared at the scene before him, his mind blank.

peach.

Peach trees cover the mountains and valleys.

Petals fell from the branches, pink and white mixed together, swirling in the air, landing one after another on her body, face, and hair.

The ground was covered with a thick layer of paving, reaching up to your ankles when you walked on it.

A breeze blows, the branches sway gently, and the petals are rolled up and then let go.

There were no chains, no runes, no abyss.

The first thought that popped into Su Chang'an's mind was—Where am I?

My second thought was—no, that's not right.

Northern Cold Cave.

Her physical body was sealed and nailed to the ground in the Northern Region by the Great Emperor, and her soul should be in that broken body pierced by chains.

One second she was watching the memory of Gu Tianhu taking the heavenly tribulation for Li Changgeng, her consciousness was overwhelmed by the flood of memories.

How did I end up here?

Su Chang'an tried to sit up.

My body won't obey me.

She looked down at her hands.

The fingers are transparent.

It's not the translucent kind of spirit; it's a weaker, thinner kind of transparency that could be blown away by the wind at any moment.

The lines on the palm are still faintly discernible, but looking down the palm, you can see the soil and broken flower petals on the ground.

Su Chang'an's heart sank.

She tried to channel her spiritual energy.

My dantian is empty.

It's not the kind of emptiness that's sealed off, it's a vacuum.

It was a dry well, without even a trace of water on its walls.

She probed down along the meridians, inch by inch. All the meridian channels were there, but there was nothing inside.

The Celestial Fox's essence is gone, the Phoenix's True Fire is gone, and even the most basic wisp of demonic energy cannot be condensed.

Su Chang'an closed his eyes, then opened them again.

She took three breaths to figure it out.

This body is neither her original form, nor her clone Su Qing, nor the form that was formed in Chen Xuan's sea of ​​consciousness.

These are things left behind by Su Xiaojiu.

Back then, on the altar, before the consciousness of Su Xiaojiu's avatar dissipated, it was the last lingering wisp of her obsession.

That lingering obsession should have flowed into the remnant body and heart of the ancient celestial fox along with its original essence, and been crushed and absorbed by the laws.

But for some reason, it survived.

Or rather, it was the violent tremor of her consciousness when she witnessed the memories of the ancient celestial fox in the abyss that forcibly shook this wisp of life out of its origin.

The remaining breath condensed into a shell.

A shell so thin it couldn't be thinner.

Su Chang'an's consciousness was contained by this shell and did not dissipate.

But that's about it.

This shell won't last long; how long it lasts depends entirely on luck.

Su Chang'an mentally assessed her current combat strength.

The conclusion is zero.

They can't even beat an ordinary spirit beast.

A strong wind could blow her apart.

The good news is that I'm alive.

The bad news is that I've become a piece of paper.

Su Chang'an suppressed his emotions and began to analyze his current situation.

Peach grove, sunlight, petals, warm soil.

It's not the Northern Region.

The northern region must be covered in ice and snow right now, where even your breath can freeze into ice shards.

The temperature here is moderate, the sunshine is plentiful, and the concentration of spiritual energy is several levels higher than that in the human world.

Su Chang'an's gaze swept around.

The peach tree trunk was so thick that it would take two people to barely encircle it.

Ancient spiritual patterns are faintly visible on the bark, having grown into the texture of the bark, making it impossible to tell whether they are naturally formed or man-made.

The soil on the ground was a dark reddish color, not from bloodstains, but from the natural red color of the soil itself due to oxidation.

The concentration and distribution of spiritual energy are completely different from those in the human world.

Su Chang'an's mind raced for a few moments before settling on a possibility.

The Nine Heavens Demon Court.

She had previously spent some time in the Demon Court under the identity of Su Xiaojiu, and had an impression of the spiritual energy structure there—it was dense, thick, and carried a primordial, undeveloped, chaotic quality.

But she had never seen this peach grove before.

The only places she had visited in the Demon Court were Weiyang Palace and Guanghan Palace, both of which were palace complexes, and none of them had peach blossoms covering the mountains and fields like this.

Su Chang'an's fingers twitched.

She tried to control this frail illusory shell to do the simplest thing—to roll over.

The moment her back left the ground, all the bones in her body cracked.

It wasn't real bone; it was the faint cracking sound of the shell of obsession under the weight of gravity.

The stability of this shell is extremely poor; it's difficult to even sit on it.

Su Chang'an gritted his teeth and propped himself up.

Petals fell softly from her hair.

Just then.

A smell entered her nostrils.

liqueur.

Peach blossom wine.

It's very strong.

The stench was so thick it didn't seem to be drifting in from afar, but rather pouring in from a certain direction.

The aroma of the wine carries the rich sweetness of fermented fruit, along with the unique crispness of peach blossom honey.

Good wine.

Su Chang'an twitched his nose.

Then she froze on the spot.

Beneath the aroma of the wine lies a layer of something.

That layer wasn't a flavor; it was real, tangible power.

There are even deeper seabeds below. The surface may look calm, but the undercurrents beneath could tear a ship's hull apart.

Intimidation.

Peak of the Great Sage Realm.

Moreover, it's the kind of oppressive feeling that comes from someone who has stood at the peak for countless years, someone who could cross over at any time but just won't—steady, calm, without the slightest fluctuation, emanating naturally from a certain direction like breathing.

Su Chang'an's heart suddenly raced.

She was all too familiar with the feel of that oppressive aura.

wrong.

Su Chang'an instinctively wanted to shrink behind the nearest thick peach tree, but his body gave the command and his legs didn't respond.

She glanced down—her legs were translucent, and the area below her knees was beginning to blur.

I can't move.

Su Chang'an raised his gaze, his eyes fixed on the direction from which the aroma of wine and the oppressive aura emanated.

Deep in the peach grove.

The flower branches are swaying.

It wasn't blown by the wind.

Someone is parting the flower branches and walking this way.

The branches were pushed aside and bounced back, shaking off the petals that fell in a flurry.

The footsteps were slow, even a little unsteady, muffled as they trod on the petal-strewn earth, but the intervals between each step were uneven.

Take two steps, stop one step, take three steps and stop again.

The person who came was drunk.

Su Chang'an's fingernails dug into his palm, but he couldn't feel any pain; this shell of a body didn't even have the ability to feel pain.

The flower branch was pushed away by the last arm.

A figure emerged from the depths of the peach grove.

He was very tall and had broad shoulders.

He was wearing the casual uniform of a demon court general, with a dark gray background embroidered with dark gold cloud patterns. The collar was wide open, revealing a section of his collarbone and chest skin. The belt was loosely tied halfway, as if it had been tied in a knot and then ignored.

He held a wine jug upside down in his right hand, spout facing down. It was empty, with the last drop of wine hanging precariously from the rim.

Her long hair was draped down in a messy, disheveled state, with petals stuck to the strands. No one cared, and no one paid any attention to her.

Her cheeks were flushed, the redness extending from her cheekbones all the way to her ears.

His eyes were half-open, half-closed, his gaze unfocused, his pupils reflecting the fluttering peach petals, his focus seemingly off.

The corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, with a hint of a smile that wasn't quite a smile.

Tianpeng.

Marshal Tianpeng of the Nine Heavens Demon Court.

Su Chang'an felt all the blood rush to his head, and his pupils shrank to the size of pinpoints.

She stopped all unnecessary movements and even suppressed her breathing to a minimum.

This illusory shell was already extremely weak, with almost zero spiritual energy characteristics, so theoretically it wouldn't be actively locked onto by the divine sense of a Great Sage.

But that's just theory.

Tianpeng was less than twenty feet away from her.

For a demon cultivator at the peak of the Great Saint Realm, a distance of twenty zhang is equivalent to face to face.

Su Chang'an's brain was working at lightning speed.

She had dealings with Tianpeng.

During her time in the Demon Court, Tianpeng brought her osmanthus cakes, drank wine with her, and even forcibly saved her once at the last moment.

But that was in the past.

The situation is completely different now.

Su Chang'an emerged from the abyss beneath the Guiyuan Palace. She had no idea how much time had passed, what changes had occurred in the outside world, or Tianpeng's current stance.

More importantly—her current state.

Without the Celestial Fox Origin, without the Phoenix True Fire, it has no combat power whatsoever.

If Tianpeng recognizes her, on the bright side, it's like meeting an old acquaintance again.

Think the worst.

Su Chang'an dared not think the worst.

Tianpeng has already defected from the Demon Court once.

To save her, Tianpeng broke his rake and almost turned against Di Shitian.

She didn't know how the matter ended.

But given Indra's personality, it's impossible that he wouldn't pursue the matter.

Has Tianpeng been pardoned, placed under house arrest, or demoted?

It's all possible.

Each of these possibilities will directly affect Tianpeng's reaction after seeing her.

Su Chang'an pressed his back tightly against the roots of the peach tree behind him, his translucent body and petals piled together, their colors barely blending in.

She didn't move.

Not a single finger moved.

Tianpeng stopped fifteen zhang away.

She tilted her head, brought the empty wine jug to her lips and tried to pour it out, but nothing came out.

The last drop of wine from the spout finally couldn't stay on and fell onto her clothes, leaving a small, dark stain.

Tianpeng stared at the wine stain for two seconds.

Then she tossed the wine jug behind her.

The pot traced an arc in mid-air and landed precisely on a peach tree branch three zhang away. The branch bounced twice from the impact, and the petals exploded into a shower of petals.

Su Chang'an did not look at the wine pot.

Her gaze remained fixed on Tianpeng's face.

Although Tianpeng's eyes were unfocused, they weren't truly unfocused.

Su Chang'an had seen people who were truly blacked out from drinking—Bai Yin, when drunk, would just fall to the ground, making a crater, and his snoring was like thunder.

Tianpeng is not.

Tianpeng's drunkenness was the kind that made him half-asleep and half-awake.

The body swayed, the steps faltered, but a string deep within the pupils remained taut.

A cultivator at the peak of the Great Saint Realm has a divine sense coverage area of ​​at least a hundred feet centered on her. Within this range, even the falling trajectory of a single petal can be detected.

Su Chang'an is currently sitting in this area.

An ant fell into the edge of a spider web, and the spider hadn't noticed yet, but the web was already shaking.

Tianpeng let out a burp.

The sound wasn't loud, but it carried far in the quiet peach grove.

She raised the back of her hand and wiped the corner of her mouth, her movements casual.

Then she took two steps forward.

Su Chang'an's heart was in his throat.

The sky stopped again.

She turned her head and glanced in the direction she had just come from, as if looking for something, or perhaps just simply lost in thought.

A gust of wind blew by, and her long hair covered half of her face.

Tianpeng reached out and tucked his hair behind his ear, revealing the complete profile of his face.

Su Chang'an read a word on that profile.

tired.

It's not physical fatigue, but the kind that seeps into your bones, a fatigue that comes from living too long, being too tired, a fatigue that even getting drunk can't solve.

Tianpeng took another step forward.

Su Chang'an's fingers curled even tighter.