Yaotiao handed the Blood Lord’s blood to Jun Beiyue. With no time to think of anything else, Jun Beiyue concentrated every ounce of strength into his palm. Seeing this, Ziqing rushed over to help, and the couple, steeling themselves, struck together.
One blow sent Jun Buli flying, slamming hard into the wall with a heavy thud, blood spraying from his mouth.
Situ Jing’er, meanwhile, was completely unharmed, lying peacefully on the ground—just endlessly crying.
Seeing she was fine, no one had time to worry about her. Ziqing hurried to help Jun Buli up, but the moment she got close, he scrambled up, lunging at her like a man possessed!
Quick as lightning, Jun Beiyue’s figure flashed and appeared before him instantly, seizing his jaw and forcing the Blood Lord’s blood down his throat.
In that instant…
Jun Buli went still. And with him, everything else went still too.
Crimson blood trickled down from the corners of Jun Buli’s mouth, visible to everyone present. His two great fangs, bathed in that blood, slowly, slowly began to shrink, until at last they vanished entirely.
At the same time, his once-glazed, blood-red eyes gradually cleared of all that crimson, growing clearer and clearer… until they were bright and lucid once more.
It was over.
Everything, at last, was over.
Everyone stood frozen, as if unable to believe what they were seeing. Jun Buli gradually came back to his senses, looking at the stunned faces around him, and slowly, he began to smile.
“My son!”
Ziqing rushed forward and hugged him tightly. “It’s all right now, finally all right! My son!”
At that moment, Jun Yaotiao suddenly burst into loud sobs and threw herself forward too. “Waaah, brother, you scared me half to death! Waaah…”
Jun Beiyue scooped Yaotiao up, holding her close to comfort her. He let out a long breath and said flatly, “It’s all right now. It’s all over.”
But just as Yaotiao’s crying had barely stopped, another wail erupted from the other side. “Waaah… Father, I want to marry Jun Buli!”
Uh!
Everyone turned in unison to look—it was Situ Jing’er, still lying motionless on the ground nearby.
But wait… what had she just said?
“Father, I want to marry Jun Buli! Waaah…” Situ Jing’er cried out again.
For a moment, everyone was stunned. Situ Haonan, right beside her, stared at her slack-jawed, at a complete loss for words.
And Jun Buli’s lips twitched, and then he suddenly couldn’t help but laugh.
Moments earlier, as he’d lunged at Situ Jing’er, there had still been a sliver of consciousness left in him, a trace of reason still intact.
Just as he’d been about to bite down, the girl had suddenly whispered in his ear, “Jun Buli, if you can resist biting me, I’ll marry you.”
He had no idea whether that counted as some kind of power, but somehow, he’d actually held back.
Was she keeping her promise now?
No one had any idea what was going on. Situ Haonan was about to ask when Situ Jing’er scrambled up, wiping wildly at her tears, her vision blurred, her small face streaked with tears—yet glaring fiercely at Jun Buli.
Even as she declared she wanted to marry him, her face was full of anger and indignation, as if she were sulking about it.
Jun Buli looked at her, and looked, and suddenly he laughed. “If you dare marry me, I dare marry you!” But the moment he said this, Situ Jing’er froze for a moment—then promptly fainted dead away.
Days later, when the girl woke, she’d remember nothing at all of what she’d said. She’d simply been frightened unconscious, scared witless.
But that, of course, is a story for later.
“Jing’er!” Situ Haonan cried out in alarm, gathering Situ Jing’er into his arms, hurriedly checking for injuries—only to find not a single wound on her.
“I didn’t bite her, I remember perfectly clearly!” Jun Buli immediately clarified.
“Probably just fainted from fright,” Baili Weisheng said with a laugh.
“So, does what she said just now still count?” Yaotiao poked her head out from the crowd, asking earnestly.
“That depends on what your brother just did to her,” Baili Xiaosheng teased as well.
Everyone joked around, gradually relaxing—but then, amid the laughter, an unusually serious voice sounded from behind them, cutting through all the chatter.
“Han Ziqing. Your name is Han Ziqing!” Ziqing froze, rooted to the spot. If she hadn’t turned to look, if she’d never seen the Blood Lord’s face, she would have sworn that voice belonged to A’Li, calling out to her.
A’Li had come back. A’Li was calling her name again.
That identical voice, calling out her name.
The Blood Lord—someone she’d never met, never laid eyes on—somehow knew her name.
In an instant, Ziqing spun around sharply. “Who exactly are you? What is your relationship to Xuanyuan Lige?”
Ziqing practically charged forward, standing right in front of the Blood Lord, nearly nose to nose with him, demanding word by word, “What is your relationship with Xuanyuan Lige? Why do you know me?”
But the Blood Lord gave her a cruel answer. “I don’t know anyone named Xuanyuan Lige, or A’Li. I only know your name is Han Ziqing. I know everything about you. Woman… what did you do to that undying blood, that it retains memories?”
The Blood Lord’s voice grew colder and colder.
But his words made everyone present gasp sharply. How could this be… how could this possibly be?
Memories, etched so deep into the blood itself!
The room fell utterly silent. Ziqing trembled, faintly at first, then more and more visibly.
This woman… was crying.
So the one before them truly wasn’t A’Li at all—merely someone who resembled him.
So A’Li had left nothing behind for them, but had instead sealed his memories into his own undying blood.
Ziqing slowly lowered her head, heartache stealing her voice. Jun Beiyue pulled her into his arms from behind, his own heart aching just as fiercely.
Grateful to that man, for loving his own wife so deeply.
For a man, this should have been a statement of utter helplessness, one to provoke fury and shame—but in this moment, deep in his heart, he felt genuine gratitude.
Ziqing, if I had been the one to leave, entrusting you to Xuanyuan Lige, I truly could have rested easy.
I never believed anyone in this world could love you the way I do—but now, I believe it.
In the silence, Ziqing’s choked sobs made everyone’s hearts ache along with her. Baili Weisheng’s cold, distant voice suddenly rang out. “Meng Duo’er, drop the barrier. I’m going to drain every drop of his blood. That’s Little Lili’s blood. I won’t hand it over to anyone!” At this, the Blood Lord startled, glaring furiously at Baili Weisheng.
But no one around them objected. He wasn’t A’Li.
A’Li would never have been harsh with Ziqing, never scolded her—he would never have even raised his voice at her, not even slightly.
What this man possessed was merely the undying blood that carried A’Li’s memories.
Those memories belonged to A’Li alone. This man could only sully A’Li’s blood, sully those memories.
He was, in the end, not Xuanyuan Lige.
Letting him live would only destroy the memory they’d all once held, corrupting everyone’s impression of A’Li.
No one spoke. Meng Duo’er looked at the wound on the Blood Lord’s arm—the bite mark from the Sky Wolf fangs—and murmured, “Starting from the Sky Wolf bite wound… that could destroy him.”