Meng Ruji surveyed the direction of the sky and vegetation, found the most likely place for fruit trees to grow, and then discovered an orchard. She climbed up a tree and began picking ripe fruit from the branches.

Mu Sui consciously walked to the base of the tree, lifting his clothes to form a pouch. Meng Ruji threw down fruit, and he caught each one, discarding those that were rotten or too damaged by birds or insects, collecting the rest in his makeshift pouch.

The two worked together well, but Mo Li stood nearby, blinking, clearly not yet understanding his position.

As Meng Ruji picked fruit, she glanced down at the ground below, then frowned. She stared at Mu Sui, and after their eyes met, Meng Ruji gave him a meaningful look.

Mu Sui understood immediately, turning to stare at Mo Li. Too lazy to speak, he forcefully tugged at his pouch, using impatient gestures and glances to signal Mo Li to “get to work.”

Mo Li said “Oh,” then also pulled up his clothes to form a pouch, copying their example as he began picking up fruit under the tree.

All three seemed to have forgotten their former identities and glory, working diligently under the trees.

Mo Li was the first to feel tired. Constantly bending to pick fruit made his back ache. He straightened up and looked at Mu Sui beside him.

Mu Sui had already piled up “quality” fruit to knee height.

Mo Li had only picked half a pouch, not even full yet.

Mo Li pursed his lips, then looked up at Meng Ruji in the tree. She was spinning and leaping from one tree to another without hesitation, firm and decisive. She first shook many ripe fruits down, then raised her arms to quickly pick some ripe fruit. For a moment, the ground echoed with the “ding-dong” sounds of falling fruit.

Mo Li watched in wonder: “Little Meng is like a monkey—her skill is so practiced it’s heartbreaking.” After his observation, he glanced at Mu Sui. “Qianshan Jun, you’re quite skilled too.”

Facing Mo Li’s mockery, Mu Sui merely lifted his eyes to glance at him coolly: “I won’t give you a single one of mine.”

Mo Li immediately came to his senses and began industriously picking up his own “meal” under the trees.

Soon, Mo Li’s pouch was full, and Mu Sui had also collected fruit half a person’s height, piled together.

Meng Ruji jumped down from the tree and sat beside the fruit pile, ready to eat.

Just as she peeled a whole fruit in her hands, a pale hand suddenly reached out in front of her: “Little Meng, hungry, don’t know how to peel.”

Mo Li sat cross-legged beside Meng Ruji, wide-eyed and pouting pitifully.

Meng Ruji rolled her eyes impatiently. She didn’t refuse, so Mo Li took it as agreement. Beaming with joy, he took Meng Ruji’s fruit, held it in his hands, and bit down. His teeth clashed with a “crack,” but he didn’t taste any flesh.

Mo Li turned to look.

He saw Mu Sui picking up the last batch of fruit, walking past him, and directly taking away the peeled fruit from his hands.

Mu Sui sat down holding the fruit in his pouch and returned the fruit he’d taken back to Meng Ruji, even though his stomach was already rumbling like thunder.

Seeing the fruit returned to her, Meng Ruji was stunned. Before she could take it, she heard Mo Li fake-crying beside her:

“How can little brother Sui treat me like this? Indeed, there’s no blood relation. Your promises are just like this—you won’t even give me a fruit…”

By his third crying sentence, Meng Ruji was already very impatient: “Give him, give him, give him! So annoying! Let me have some peace!”

The next moment, an unpeeled fruit flew directly at Mo Li’s face.

The fruit hit with considerable force, making Mo Li lean backward.

“You want it, I’ll give it to you,” Mu Sui said.

Meng Ruji glanced over without stopping, continuing to peel her fruit to fill her stomach.

When Mo Li rubbed his face and sat up properly again, he saw Mu Sui’s cold gaze and Meng Ruji’s expression of watching a show.

Mo Li weighed the fruit in his hand, restraining his fake crying: “Qianshan Jun, didn’t you say you wouldn’t give me a single fruit?”

“Using that method just now, I’m willing to give you several more.”

Mo Li smiled: “There’s no reason for me to just receive gifts—courtesy demands reciprocity…”

As Mo Li finished speaking, he also threw a fruit at Mu Sui’s face.

Mu Sui was prepared, tilting his head slightly with no excess movement, dodging Mo Li’s fruit. Then he said contemptuously: “Food given in contempt—I don’t need it.”

Mo Li raised an eyebrow, already picking up two more fruits.

“Don’t waste food,” Meng Ruji spoke up timely, stopping this battle of five-year-old intelligence. “If you want to fight, go far away.”

The tense atmosphere between Mo Li and Mu Sui calmed down somewhat.

The conclusion was Mo Li nodding and saying lightly, “Fine, I’ll remember that, Qianshan Jun.”

During this fruit meal, Meng Ruji ate seven or eight pieces. Once full, she began peeling fruit for Mu Sui, hoping he’d eat faster. This action made Mo Li start fussing again, persistently tugging at Meng Ruji’s sleeve: “I want some too, Little Meng.”

Mu Sui ate his fruit while staring at Mo Li, biting with force as if he wanted Mo Li’s head.

Rolling her eyes, Meng Ruji broke the fruit in her hand in half, giving each person half. Both accepted the fruit, and the next dispute finally subsided.

On the first day of supporting Mo Li in old age, Meng Ruji was already feeling somewhat tired.

To prevent Mo Li from making more trouble, Meng Ruji chose to discuss business with him: “Those Linlan Mountain people—where should we go find them later?”

Mo Li had eaten his fill. He ate the half fruit Meng Ruji gave him absentmindedly, like nibbling snacks: “Little Meng, you ask as if I should know where they are.”

“Of course you should know,” Meng Ruji said coldly. “Didn’t you know where Mu Sui and I were before? You brought that Linlan Mountain Master right to us.”

“That Inner Core stayed in my body for so long—isn’t it normal that I could sense it?”

Meng Ruji’s gaze shifted slightly to glance at Mu Sui.

Mu Sui continued eating fruit, as if he hadn’t heard their conversation at all.

Meng Ruji withdrew her gaze and continued staring at Mo Li: “Stop acting. Find Luo Yingfeng early, get the money, hit the road early, and go to Zhuliu City to support you in old age. Find a stable place to live—isn’t that good? Who supports someone in old age on the road?”

Mo Li pondered for a moment, then nodded: “That makes sense.” Mo Li stood up and opened his arms to Meng Ruji: “Then hug me first…”

Before he finished speaking, “smack”—another fruit hit Mo Li’s face hard.

Mu Sui, sitting nearby, had an iron-blue face. He glared at Mo Li as if wanting to kill him, while forcefully pressing his fruit-throwing hand against his chest, as if afraid he really would kill him.

This contradictory state left both Meng Ruji and the struck Mo Li somewhat silent.

Mu Sui swallowed what was in his mouth and stood up stiffly, his voice squeezing from his throat:

“If you want a hug, I’ll hug you.”

Meng Ruji: “…”

After saying this, Mu Sui immediately covered his mouth again. His actions and demeanor seemed to indicate he didn’t want to say or do this, but he just couldn’t control himself.

But Mo Li seemed very calm: “That’s not impossible either. Come on then.”

Meng Ruji: “Huh!?”

She turned her head to see Mo Li directly pouncing toward Mu Sui, arms spread wide, embracing Mu Sui directly like long-lost brothers who hadn’t seen each other for decades, colliding with loud crashes.

Before Meng Ruji could let her jaw drop, she saw a gray aura emanating from Mo Li’s entire body, like the gray-black mist that appeared when vision was obstructed in frequent nightmares.

The moment this gray-black aura touched Mu Sui, the light in Mu Sui’s pupils dimmed, just like the previously controlled Luo Yingfeng, becoming Mo Li’s puppet.

“Qianshan Jun, Mu Sui.” Mo Li’s voice carried irresistible temptation—this was the nightmare demon’s unique ability. “Tell me, have you remembered who you are?”

Mu Sui’s pupils were lifeless. His lips parted slightly, but just as Mo Li and Meng Ruji thought they’d hear his answer, Mu Sui tightly closed his mouth again.

He even used his teeth to bite his lips.

More and more aura escaped from Mo Li’s body, and his voice grew louder: “Have you remembered who you are?”

Mu Sui’s teeth bit his lips tightly, resisting answering, even exerting such force that his whole body trembled, until his lips were bitten and thick blood flowed out.

“Enough,” Meng Ruji interrupted Mo Li. “Stop asking.”

Mo Li obeyed, restraining his aura and releasing Mu Sui.

As the aura disappeared, Mu Sui collapsed to the ground as if drained of strength, falling unconscious.

Mo Li’s face became even paler, cold sweat beading on his forehead. Using the nightmare demon’s power had taken its toll on him, too.

“Really can resist,” Mo Li looked at the unconscious Mu Sui on the ground. “He’s the first person I’ve encountered like this.”

Meng Ruji walked to Mu Sui’s side and looked at him, seeing his brows tightly furrowed, as if immersed in pain and torment that others couldn’t fathom.

“You shouldn’t ask such questions. It’s lazy to use this ability.”

Mo Li pursed his lips: “Little Meng, I’m thinking of you. Your husband is cunning—of course, we need to dig into his background.”

“What kind of background is this?” Meng Ruji sat down beside Mu Sui. “He remembered.”

Mo Li raised an eyebrow: “How do you know?”

“Nai River water can make me see the past, even see your past. Why couldn’t it let him see his past? After he came out of the Nai River last time, his words and actions were subtly different from before. After I went through the Nai River myself, if I still didn’t know, my former Demon Lord title would truly be in name only.”

“Didn’t you indeed never ascend to the Demon Lord position?” Mo Li delivered a timely blow.

Meng Ruji scolded: “Shut up!”

Mo Li smiled: “But since you know he’s recovered his memory, why keep acting with him?”

“You should ask: he’s recovered his memory and still stays by my side—what is he after?” Meng Ruji touched the cold sweat on Mu Sui’s forehead. “Yan Tianjun, your nightmare technique has few equals in the world. He’d rather risk mental confusion than answer your question—don’t you find that strange?”

Mo Li looked thoughtful: “Indeed.”

Meng Ruji murmured, “Is the identity of Zhuliu City Master worth hiding so deeply?”

“Let’s not talk about this now.” Mo Li extended his hand to Meng Ruji again. “Don’t you want revenge on Luo Yingfeng? Come hug me.”

Meng Ruji pointed at the sleeping Mu Sui: “He’s already asleep. You don’t need to use this trick to deliberately anger him anymore.”

“It’s not to deliberately anger him—I need you to hug me.” Mo Li said, “In the lawless land, only through physical contact can I use my nightmare demon power.”

Meng Ruji looked at him coldly: “What are you trying to get out of me?”

“Little Meng’s words are hurtful. I want to transfer part of my power to you.” Mo Li fake-cried twice in feigned sadness. “I recently put Luo Yingfeng under nightmare control, so he still carries my nightmare technique’s aura. I’ll put the direction I sense into your mind, then you can use me as a foundation to create a formation and control me. I can then replace you in piercing his heart with one arrow—oh, one stone through the heart. So convenient, you don’t even need to go personally.”

Meng Ruji listened with some disbelief: “Really?”

“You’re the person who will support me in old age. I might deceive anyone, but I won’t deceive you.”

Meng Ruji was silent for a moment, then reached out with half-belief. Mo Li immediately embraced Meng Ruji. The moment of physical contact, Meng Ruji suddenly felt an aura entering her mind.

Like a faint gray thread, it carried her consciousness across the lawless land’s forests and paths, brushing past birds and insects, sneaking through underground soil, finally passing a crowd of people. Meng Ruji saw Luo Yingfeng’s face as he was carried in a sedan chair.

Meng Ruji suddenly opened her eyes: “There is a connection.”

“That’s the path from just now.” Mo Li stared at Meng Ruji. “Follow it, create a formation to control wind, send me there. Take his life, seize his wealth.”

After Mo Li finished speaking, he again became a stone in Meng Ruji’s palm.

Meng Ruji gripped the stone: “Create a formation to control wind, I’ll send you there. Seizing his wealth is fine, but by my usual standards, this Luo Yingfeng deserves serious injury but doesn’t merit death.”

The stone jumped in Meng Ruji’s palm: “Little Meng, this is exactly why I wanted you to support me in old age.”

Meng Ruji used the stone to control spiritual power. Around her, the mountain forests stirred with a flowing aura gathering toward her. Mountains, rocks, and trees all trembled and hummed, as if all things in heaven and earth were responding to her call.

Legends once said that Meng Ruji could communicate with plants, understand all things, change wind and clouds, and transform heaven and earth—not for any other reason, but because the formations and techniques she used were the world’s most exquisite, using minimal force to调万物灵气调动万物灵气 transfer the spiritual energy of all things.

Heaven and earth’s spiritual power was to her like a silk thread in an embroiderer’s hands—heart following intention, ten thousand methods following the heart.

The formation completed, wind stirred. The gray stone shot out like an arrow from a bow, disappearing into the mountain forest in an instant.

Meng Ruji breathed out slightly, looking toward where the technique had disappeared. She only heard Mo Li’s lingering words in the air.

“Your bottom line, and your gentleness and compassion.”