Fucang narrowed his eyes to examine the scene within Qiongsang City. Behind the palace wall was a bottomless abyss, and the cluster of sand grain palaces was built within this abyss. Those tower palaces looked lifelike from afar, but now that they had drawn close, they discovered these were merely empty shells with only an outer form. Inside the enormous windows was pitch darkness—nothing at all.

He reached back to scoop Xuan Yi before him, holding her tightly with both hands, and without a word jumped down into the abyss. Xuan Yi sucked in a sharp breath—he wasn’t from the Qingyang Clan with wings!

The viscous turbid energy rapidly brushed past their cheeks. Fucang recited an incantation, and from the pale sand ground instantly grew densely packed enormous leaves. Their bodies fell into the soft leaves and were gently bounced up like water droplets, completely unharmed. The leaves disappeared in an instant, and Fucang’s feet stood firmly on the sand ground.

The breath that Xuan Yi had been holding in her chest was also steadily released. Her body was placed on the ground by him, and he shook his head: “…Making a fuss over nothing.”

With this appearance, Shao Yi choosing her to solve the Sea of Regret’s problem was really not a wise decision.

Xuan Yi pretended not to know, turning her head to look around in all directions. The pale sand grains not only condensed into palaces but also condensed into the appearance of flame trees and phoenix trees. Under the trees were even Qingyang Clan divine officials condensed from sand grains, gathered in twos and threes, appearing incomparably strange in this soundless land of death.

“Where would he be?” Fucang asked.

Didn’t he say she couldn’t speak? Xuan Yi stared at him, inevitably carrying a trace of resentment.

Now she finally knew to be obedient. The surging fury in Fucang’s heart inexplicably subsided somewhat. His face remained stern, but his tone gained a trace of gentleness: “Only permitted to say one sentence.”

Xuan Yi sighed: “I don’t know either. Let’s just search along the main road.”

She somewhat regretted why she hadn’t agreed to Shao Yi’s suggestion to tour Qiongsang City. Although she had stayed there for several days, she still didn’t recognize half a route. Where would the emperor’s corpse be? Such an enormous Qiongsang City—unable to take flight and relying only on two legs to walk—how long would it take?

…This was simply a useless statement. Fucang shook his head again. He shouldn’t have hoped she could be reliable. Chun Jun left its sheath again, transforming into a thin golden light, incredibly fast. In an instant, it circled several times along the enormous Qiongsang City, then fell back into the sheath. He turned toward the west and walked: “This way.”

Xuan Yi hung her head and followed behind him, full of doubts. Strange, wasn’t she supposed to be especially formidable? She had always been quite impressive before, so how was she being compared by him now to seem like trash? It shouldn’t be like this. Something must be wrong.

Her hand was grasped. Fucang looked back at her. The gloom still remained in his eyes, yet his gaze had become countless times more gentle. He said softly: “This battle general is doing a messy job.”

The dragon princess truly did many things messily—her handwriting looked like spasms, as a disciple for tens of thousands of years she never attended classes, as a battle general she didn’t even know how to grip a sword, she was consistently selfish and self-interested, then suddenly ran here to play the lone hero—fortunately he had come.

Xuan Yi still hung her head without speaking, so he continued: “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

She continued not speaking.

“There won’t be a next time.” His voice was clear and cold. “If there’s another such matter, I’ll lock you inside Chun Jun.”

…Meaning he would release sword energy transformed into a dragon to bite her? Right, he had just done it once before—this brutal brute.

Xuan Yi tearfully grasped his hand and used her fingertip to indignantly write a line of spasmodic characters on it: I want to say one more sentence.

At this life-or-death juncture, Fucang again didn’t know whether to be angry or amused. He held her hand and continued walking forward, while saying: “It’s still better to be quiet.”

Her sleeve was gently tugged twice. He instinctively looked back. The dragon princess was staring at him with both eyes widened round. Those distinctly black-and-white, expressive eyes were clearly asking him: How did you get here?

She was actually truly not speaking, afraid he would really knock her unconscious?

Fucang said indifferently: “Why ask? In any case, we’re already here.”

She fell silent, her brows furrowing, and another trace of tearful light swiftly passed by, so quickly it was almost invisible. Fucang looked at her for a while, then slowly opened his arms and encircled her in his embrace. No need to say anything—since he had come, then he wouldn’t leave.

Xuan Yi pressed her face hard against his chest—the familiar clean scent, and the powerful sound of his heartbeat.

If he hadn’t come, she could still have fought desperately with all her life. Now that he had come, she seemed to have become foolish. Would they perish here together? Being together with him would naturally be good, but she didn’t want him to perish. He could go on living well. Someday he would probably meet a divine maiden more suitable for him than her, who wouldn’t quarrel with him, and wouldn’t make him chase across heaven and earth for thousands of miles to accompany her in throwing away his life.

Truly a divine lord with no judgment.

Rarely seeing the dragon princess dejected and powerless like a rain-soaked pigeon, Fucang stroked her hair: “No need to be afraid.”

Xuan Yi hugged him tightly twice before releasing her hands. Fucang held her hand and walked gracefully along the sand grain flame trees and phoenix trees. The hem and long sleeves of his tea-white garments were blown by the turbid energy and malevolent winds, swaying ceaselessly. She stared at the cloud patterns on them for a very long time, staring in a daze.

The malevolent wind scraped like knives and spears against their faces and bodies. Fucang’s footsteps suddenly became extremely cautious. The surrounding sand grain flame trees and phoenix trees inexplicably grew dense. The road beneath their feet also gradually became clear and no longer rough. After circling around several flame trees and phoenix trees that had gained color, an enormous and magnificent great hall appeared before their eyes.

Unlike the other scenery in the sand grain Qiongsang City, everything here was exactly the same as the real Qiongsang City—hall doors colored like blazing flames, even the most minute carved floral patterns on them were clearly visible, the pitch-black crystal floor inside the great hall was spotlessly clean, the magnificent latticed windows entwined with golden branches and leaves, the cloud-silk curtains embroidered with dark birds throughout.

The spacious great hall didn’t have a single shadow, not even those divine officials condensed from sand grains. Fucang gripped Chun Jun tightly and extremely carefully tapped lightly on the pitch-black floor with his toes. The back door of the great hall suddenly opened. Bright colors of gold and green interwoven like tide and cloud illuminated the somewhat sinister-seeming great hall.

Carefully passing through the great hall, Xuan Yi craned her neck to look outside. This appeared to be an abrupt courtyard. Tall flame trees and phoenix trees covered even the sky. Under the brilliantly lush branches and leaves sat a figure wearing ancient dark black robes on the ground, back leaning against a flame tree and phoenix tree, his posture quite languid.

Pitch-black long hair hung elegantly over his shoulders, with golden thread finely wound around a braided lock of hair, with an exquisite and delicate agate phoenix dangling below.

Suddenly, the long hair swayed, and he turned his face—exactly the same as Shao Yi, only without that divine soul jewel on his forehead, and appearing countless times more mature than the Phoenix Lord who was only fifty thousand years old.

Xuan Yi couldn’t help but draw in a deep breath. This was the corpse? The Qingyang Clan’s corpses looked like this?!

He seemed to completely fail to notice the two divine beings who had suddenly appeared in the courtyard. In his palm at some unknown time appeared a tree leaf, which he placed at his lips to blow and play carefully. A fragmentary little tune broke through the deathly silence of the Sea of Regret—it was precisely that piece Shao Yi had played last time, only discontinuous, as if he couldn’t remember the melody.

Xuan Yi walked toward him, but her body was tightly restrained by Fucang. He glanced at her sternly, then flicked his fingertip. Chun Jun transformed into a slender golden dragon, falling like lightning onto the emperor’s shoulder. The clear wind blew the agate phoenix dangling on his braid, swaying it back and forth, yet he remained completely unmoved.

After the fragmentary little tune finished playing, the emperor tossed aside the leaf, turned his head, and his gaze fell accurately and unmistakably on Xuan Yi. His brows suddenly furrowed as he murmured: “Liusang? Doesn’t look like this.”

As these words fell, he swept his long sleeves, and Xuan Yi only felt black fog and pale sand grains overwhelming and blotting out the sky as they came toward her.