As the blood brother of the Human Emperor, Prince Zhao’s mansion was heavily guarded. It wasn’t just protected by guards and personal soldiers—on the contrary, powerful experts at the great master level constantly resided in the estate. They usually kept a low profile, but when critical moments arrived, their usefulness would be revealed.

Having seen blood, the ferocity within Su You’s body could no longer be contained, yet his mind became increasingly clear. He precisely calculated the distance of the elder behind him. Before his eyes were several black-clothed figures in identical attire who had swiftly rushed from within the prince’s mansion. Each one’s aura was unfathomably deep—they were not at a level he could contend with.

Strangely, in such circumstances, Su You felt no fear whatsoever, nor any belated survival instinct emerging.

From the moment he entered, he had never harbored any lucky hopes of placing himself in mortal danger to survive.

His fate had only one outcome left: death.

His body was like a piece of paper blown by the wind, drifting lightly backward until it pressed against that vermilion outer wall. With no retreat left before or behind him, he suddenly raised his eyes. When everyone had closed in to a distance of no more than a hundred meters front and back, his ten blood-soaked finger bones closed one by one, and a token carrying spiritual light once again pierced through the air.

That token was extremely fast, carrying the sound of cutting through air, reaching his eyes in an instant.

“Little beast!”

The elder who had taken the lead in pursuing and killing him hadn’t expected that he still had a spiritual treasure left, much less that he would have the courage to trade death for death. Caught off guard and unable to dodge in time, in his shock and fury, a ball of intense heat carrying a temperature that could incinerate a person exploded before his eyes.

This strike affected not only those who had come to capture him, but Su You himself was also at the center of the heat wave. The force of ten million jun slammed heavily into his body like a giant staff capable of splitting mountains and leveling seas had swept across his chest.

He deeply furrowed his brow, blood rushing out from his throat in succession, his entire body having scarcely a single intact place.

Before his vision dimmed, in the corner of his sight were those several black-clothed figures flying out horizontally like birds with broken wings. Su You tugged at the corner of his mouth, supporting himself against the crumbling pillar behind the wall, feeling the life force rapidly draining from within his body, and lazily half-closed his eyes.

Strangely enough, he had always believed that deep in his bones existed the base nature of clinging to life and fearing death. So even when life had been difficult and wretched before, he had bitten down hard and refused to die easily. Now, facing death, he asked himself: did he regret it?

The answer was no.

Su You closed his eyes, the scene in his mind seemingly remaining over a month ago, on that freezing February day when water turned to ice on the Judgment Platform. When she glanced over, her bearing was undoubtedly lofty and unapproachable.

Someone told him that the person who saved him was the Sacred Land’s successor, Princess Yedu.

At that time, he was full of wariness, bristling like a hedgehog, prepared for the worst. He thought, at most it would be nothing more than death.

At that time, he had never imagined that a person could, without saying anything, without making any smiling gestures, make someone feel so at ease, dependent, even attached.

One month was truly too short in the lifespan of demons who lived for hundreds or thousands of years, so short that when looking back now, those scattered memories seemed to have slipped by like the blink of an eye.

Yet he was willing to go to his death calmly for this one month of warmth, trust, and respect.

Tidal waves of weariness and cold howled through his limbs and bones. Su You could no longer support his body and slid down along the wall to sit on the ground like he had no bones. His raven-feather-like long lashes trembled twice, then silently closed.

The long wind howled through the broken walls and ruins. The youth’s figure was thin and frail, his ten fingers drooping at his knees, each bloody and mangled, his face slightly lowered, his spine still straight, like an arrow that had suddenly lost its power just before being shot.

This night could be said to have been one of ups and downs, of deep water and scorching fire for Prince Zhao.

He constantly worried about tonight’s situation, unwilling to simply abandon the ghost infant, yet having to consider Qiu Tong’s warning, not daring to provoke under Xue Yu and Shan Shu’s noses. So he could only honestly shrink within his mansion. Even when most unable to restrain himself, he only sent two people out to rescue, even spending a great deal to provide numerous spiritual treasures.

And the result?

Bad news came one after another.

If the ghost infant’s failed rescue only made him slowly darken his expression, then the news that “someone from Princess Yedu’s side had broken into Prince Zhao’s mansion” made him immediately overturn his desk in furious rage.

“Where is the person?!” Prince Zhao grabbed the collar of the messenger, his hand showing bulging veins due to shock and anger. He asked: “Was the person let go?”

“No, no.” The advisor was also frightened into a cold sweat by such an incident. While sucking air through his teeth, he said: “The person has been detained, but several masters were injured, and one… one died.”

Hearing such words, Prince Zhao harshly closed his eyes and said: “Just an attendant beside the Sacred Land’s successor, just an attendant.” He repeated it twice, each word heavier than the last.

“To have such ability to freely enter and exit the prince’s mansion and wound people—I’ve been supporting those people in Prince Zhao’s mansion like they were buddhas. Are they here to be decorations and enjoy comfort?”

The advisor dared not respond to these words. He hung his head, not daring to breathe heavily. Only after Prince Zhao’s emotions calmed down did he carefully interject: “Your Highness, what should we do now? Should we inform His Majesty?”

“Inform? Who will go inform?” Prince Zhao took a deep breath, irritably tugging at his sleeves, asking with sinister coldness: “Will you take this responsibility, or will this prince?”

The advisor shivered and silently shut his mouth tight.

“What is the identity of the intruder, and what is the current situation?” Prince Zhao’s mind cleared somewhat as he asked again: “Is he dead?”

“Reporting to Your Highness, the person isn’t dead, still has half a breath left. He’s not a resident from the Sacred Land, seems to be just a half-demon.”

Finally encountering a question he could answer, the advisor supplemented in detail: “Master You said that before falling unconscious, this person had activated a spiritual talisman, not knowing if he was contacting the Sacred Land side, or whether he revealed our mansion’s situation. Therefore, we subordinates didn’t dare to presume to take his life, and especially came to ask Your Highness for instructions on whether to interrogate this person overnight, so we can have a countermeasure prepared.”

Prince Zhao’s heart, which had been hanging heavily in mid-air, finally relaxed somewhat upon hearing the words “half-demon.”

Never mind Sacred Land successors—even ordinary high officials and nobles in the mortal world looked down on demons, especially just a half-demon.

He was, after all, the Human Emperor’s blood brother, a properly enfeoffed human race prince. Truly speaking, his status wasn’t much lower than that of Sacred Land successors. No one would come to a prince’s mansion demanding a person over just a half-demon.

Taking ten thousand steps back, even if they came, he could deny it to the death. What could that Princess Yedu do to him—forcibly search a prince’s mansion?

It could be considered fortunate in the misfortune.

“We do need to interrogate him properly.” Prince Zhao pressed heavily against his brow and said, “Let’s go to the private prison.”

With that, he strode out of the study first. The two advisors in the room looked at each other, one gesturing to the other, patting his weakened gums and saying urgently: “Quickly contact His Majesty.”

“If something goes wrong here, never mind us—even His Highness himself would have to pay the price.”

Su You was awakened by two wild forces, one cold and one hot, charging and colliding through his meridians. Almost the instant he became conscious, his shoulder bones instinctively pressed down low. Immediately after, he felt obstruction at his left and right wrists—that cold, restraining feeling was too familiar, exactly like when he was tortured in Xihe’s prison.

He immediately recognized that this was in Prince Zhao’s mansion’s private prison.

Having encountered two waves of spiritual treasure self-destructions during his growth period, when he had exhausted his strength and closed his eyes, feeling his shattered internal organs, he had thought himself certain to die. He hadn’t expected that upon awakening, his injuries were instead healing at an extremely slow pace, as if some brutal force was forcibly and crudely piecing his life force back together, barely preserving his life.

But even so, this body was still too weak, like an old rag doll torn to shreds.

Even moving a finger was laborious.

As if sensing he had awakened, the pain flooding his limbs and bones also awakened like a surging spring tide, all rushing toward his brain. That lingering aftertaste cut deep into his flesh and blood, enough to drive a person mad and insane.

Su You’s lashes covered his eyelids, forming a patch of dense shadow, like two dots condensed from an ink brush.

Even at this time, his face still appeared quiet, even showing a bit of pale weakness and innocent docility.

Gradually, extremely low and quiet conversation reached his ears, drilling out from the neighboring prison cell.

“Look, another one has come.” This person’s speech revealed a lifeless apathy, even faintly carrying some schadenfreude. “Three in one day, fifteen in three days. Everyone in this mansion who looked at that lake has met with disaster.”

“When is this, and you’re still mocking others?” Another person’s voice was somewhat weaker, teeth chattering as if desperately holding back sobs: “With such a big lake there, who knew that looking at it a few more times would bring disaster.”

“At this rate, everyone serving in the mansion will die sooner or later.”

“You don’t understand.” The first speaker spat, his voice faintly rising: “This is imperial nobility. Next to their wealthy den, isn’t it just the burial ground for unlucky people like us?”

Another wave of unbearable pain passed. Su You slowly clenched his palm, his lashes pressing down hard.

He thought: The lake in Prince Zhao’s mansion was very likely also related to the demon monk, ghost infant, and other incidents.

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps approached, several bright torches flooding in. The previous low whispers abruptly stopped, and the spacious, dark private prison suddenly revealed its original murderous appearance.

“Still not awake?” The man’s voice was sinister and soft as he instructed those around him: “Splash water, wake him up.”

A basin of ice-cold water was harshly poured over Su You’s body. This bucket of water was like igniting all sensation in Su You’s body, swift fireworks exploding one after another, blasting his entire person until his skin split and blood flowed.

He quietly raised his eyes, looking toward the man dressed as a prince who was looking down at him from above, neither opening his mouth to speak nor groaning silently.

“Give me the whip.” Prince Zhao flicked the whip, creating a heart-chilling sound in the air, then the whip’s shadow fell on Su You’s body like sudden rain.

“Speak! Who were you contacting when you entered Prince Zhao’s mansion?”

“What did you say?”

Prince Zhao asked several questions in succession. Su You didn’t utter a single word, as if he hadn’t heard, standing quietly, once again becoming a prisoner at the mercy of others in the private prison, yet his back still straight, maintaining an unyielding upward posture like a pine tree.

Gradually, even the pain became numb.

When Su You’s eyelids grew heavy, his body seemed completely unable to withstand such successive severe injuries, gradually showing some unspeakable changes.

Long wings extended from his spine, covered with ancient patterns that rippled like black watermarks, each feather’s tip delicately outlined with golden thread patterns. At a glance, it was all floating golden light.

Prince Zhao couldn’t stop his hand in time. One lash went toward Su You’s face, but he saw this youth who had been motionless throughout, sickly as if about to breathe his last at any moment, his pupils slightly contracted, then use all his strength to turn his head slightly to the side.

That lash thus narrowly avoided his face, falling on his snow-white wrist, splashing out a shocking blood mark.

Prince Zhao was enraged by his oil-and-salt-refusing, life-and-death-fearless attitude. He stepped forward, tightly grasping his face, forcing him to look at his exposed wings, saying word by word: “Still being stubborn? Still hoping someone will come save you?”

“Look at yourself, come on, take a good look.” He mocked mercilessly: “Do you know what you look like now? Who would come to save you? Your master?”

“Seeing you like this, she’d probably be so disgusted she’d want to act personally.”

The previous severe torture hadn’t stirred the slightest ripple in Su You’s heart, but these mere three sentences, word by word, were like overwhelming waves wanting to drown him.

Su You held his breath. After a long while, his taut fingers gradually relaxed, like a weary giant beast finally giving up struggling powerlessly.

He didn’t dare look at his despicable appearance.

At this moment, even if Xue Yu could come, he didn’t want her to come.

Prince Zhao was interrogating such a stubborn person for the first time. Thinking he had accepted his fate, yet he still wouldn’t make a sound, not even giving a breath. If not for the beads of sweat rolling down his forehead one after another, he would have thought he was already dead.

Like a brief moment, yet like a long time had passed, the ground beneath their feet suddenly began to shake. Prince Zhao’s mansion seemed to be dragged and pulled upward by a giant beast from underground, arching and moving, then shaking and collapsing with a thunderous roar.

“What’s happening?” Prince Zhao was shocked and furious. Just as he was about to grab a black-clothed person beside him to question, he saw the private prison’s main gate being blasted open. Light like flowing water rushed into the underground space. He was dazzled and squinted, then looked up in disbelief, meeting eyes with the cold woman at the front of the crowd.

“I wondered where the little cub was being held.” Jiu Feng’s voice followed.

Su You’s lashes trembled with difficulty.

At the end of his vision, Xue Yu’s expression was cold as if frozen in ice. She walked over silently. Chao Nian quickly cut the ropes, and Su You, having lost his supporting strength, was caught leaning against his shoulder.

Their eyes met. Su You pressed his dry, blood-cracked lips together, his voice so light it almost floated into the air: “Immediately, interrogate the others, the others in the prison.”

He swallowed with difficulty, saying word by word: “Prince Zhao’s mansion, there’s something suspicious about the lake.”

Having said this, like a prisoner awaiting a death sentence, he used his last strength to hide his long, sharp wings behind him, using for the first time a broken, almost pleading tone: “My lady.”

“Please don’t look.”