"This is what you call a fine performance, isn't it?" Yun Che chuckled, his gaze fixed on the heartbroken figure of Pan Buwang. "With Shen Wuqing's presence, Pan Buwang's every move is bound. Fortunately, Qingyue stands with us."
He sighed faintly. "The most difficult thing in this world… is love."
Li Su, ever perceptive as a soul body, nodded in agreement. "Indeed. From the moment Pan Buwang appeared, I sensed intense soul fluctuations erupting from Shen Wuyi. Though I do not know the cause, the excitement of that soul was unmistakable. I judged that no real battle to the death would occur between them."
"Now that we're sure that soul remnant is Shen Wuqing, you can rest easy," Li Su continued. "In this world, you alone possess the Sky Poison Pearl—the power to purify, condense, and nurture a soul. With the aid of light profound energy, even a remnant like Shen Wuqing's can be fully restored. When that day comes, Pan Buwang's loyalty to you will deepen beyond measure."
"Mhm," Yun Che mused. "But only if Qingyue regains her memories completely. If that happens, I can entrust the divine source to Pan Buwang and have him inherit the title of Owl Butterfly Divine Lord. The combat strength of a True God is invaluable to me right now."
His thoughts spiraled outward like an unfolding net. His plan had originally been to destroy the divine sources of the Kingdom of Gods—an incredibly dangerous and arduous task. But now, with the Kingdoms of Owl Butterfly and Eternal Night aiding him, the burden had lightened considerably.
Suddenly, a sorrowful wail pierced the air.
"Wuqing, I fell in love with you the moment I laid eyes on you. I've never had the courage to say it aloud. I wanted to tell you on our wedding day… but now I regret waiting! Please… come back to me! I can't live without you!"
Pan Buwang's anguished cry echoed toward the heavens, the reappearance of Shen Wuqing having stripped away all restraint from his heart.
"You're too impulsive," Shen Wuyi responded coldly. "You don't value your life. Without strength, everything is nothing but a fleeting illusion."
Her words were a direct assault on his soul, utterly devoid of compassion.
"Please… I'll do anything you ask!" Pan Buwang fell to his knees, voice trembling, humility draping his figure like dust on the wind.
"Hmph! A pitiful waste like you dares beg for mercy? You don't deserve my pity." Shen Wuyi's eyes were like frost. "If you want Wuqing back, become the new Lord of the Owl Butterfly Divine Kingdom. When you achieve that… I'll return her to you."
The condition was cruel and cold.
The current Lord Qi Heng was in his prime, and for Pan Buwang to inherit the divine source and ascend to God Lord status would take at least ten thousand years.
Yet there was no despair or anger in Pan Buwang's eyes—only a flash of gratitude. At the very least, Shen Wuyi hadn't destroyed all hope.
"I will do my utmost to fulfill this demand," he swore solemnly. "But in the meantime, you must guarantee Wuqing's safety. If anything happens to her… no matter the time or place, I'll kill you with my own hands."
"You don't have the right to threaten me," Shen Wuyi replied coolly. "And do you really think the condition is so simple? Naive."
She turned her sharp gaze toward the nearby mountain ridge. "Yun Che, come out!"
Yun Che did not hesitate. With a flicker, he appeared beside them, uncertain of what Shen Wuyi intended.
"Pan Buwang," she declared, her voice as chilling as winter's edge. "You are to become Yun Che's slave… for one hundred years."
The words landed like thunderclaps.
Both Yun Che and Pan Buwang were utterly dumbfounded.
"Why?" Yun Che asked first, disbelief painted across his face. He wasn't even certain whether Shen Wuyi had regained her memories. Such a demand—he had only heard one other person utter something so ruthless before: Xia Qingyue.
He still remembered the day they forced Qianye Ying'er into slavery. Qingyue's words back then had been just as ruthless, just as sharp.
"Because you're too weak," Shen Wuyi said flatly. "And you're important to me. I don't want anything to happen to you."
Seeing Yun Che about to respond, she suddenly reached out and covered his mouth. "Don't test me. I haven't fully regained my memories. Only fragments remain. But even so, I remember one thing clearly—you are the one I most wish to protect."
Pan Buwang overheard their exchange and instantly understood: they shared a history far deeper than mere acquaintance. But he didn't care.
"Haha! Shen Wuyi, are you mad? Planting a slave seal on the son of the Owl Butterfly God? Do you know what that would mean? The entire kingdom would be outraged! Lord Qi Heng would be furious. No slave seal in existence can evade the senses of a Lord God!"
"What if… it's the Eternal Night Divine Kingdom's 'Midnight Death-Wishing Seal'?" Shen Wuyi said coldly, not even glancing at him.
Pan Buwang's expression froze. The Midnight Death-Wishing Seal—a terrifying soul brand crafted by the God of Eternal Night, Wuming—was a curse so dreadful it could subjugate even divine souls.
"…!" Yun Che felt a chill down his spine. Once again, he silently gave thanks that Qingyue stood on his side.
"Very well," Pan Buwang eventually said, his voice bitter. "But only for one hundred years. I accept… but you must uphold your end of the bargain."
Without further word, Shen Wuyi extended her hand and etched the Midnight Death-Wishing Seal onto Pan Buwang's soul.
"I may as well tell you," she said calmly, "the only reason I can sustain Shen Wuqing's remnant soul is because I possess the Exquisite World within me. As long as I live, that small world will remain, and she will be safe."
"The Nine Profound Exquisite Body!" Pan Buwang gasped, laughing bitterly. "Of course… with that body, no wonder your cultivation has soared."
"But remember," Shen Wuyi said, her tone like ice, "Only the three of us know what happened today. Should a fourth person find out… don't blame me for being merciless."
Yun Che remained silent, watching everything unfold. For the first time in what felt like forever, a faint smile appeared on his face.
This Shen Wuyi… is becoming more and more like the Xia Qingyue of old. Especially that aura—the same cold elegance that once belonged to the Moon God Emperor.
With that, his worries eased. Since Shen Wuyi could wield the Midnight Death-Wishing Seal, the curse Wuming once set upon her could no longer restrain her.
"I'm leaving," Shen Wuyi said to Yun Che. "Do not follow me. I need time… perhaps one day, I'll remember everything."
Yun Che let out a soft sigh. "You always did understand me better than anyone… Very well. Just be careful. This region borders the Abyss of Death—don't push yourself."
Shen Wuyi offered no reply. She summoned the Holy Feather Ice Crystal Silk and disappeared into the sky.
Pan Buwang stood still for a long time before turning to Yun Che. "Son of the Abyss… though Shen Wuyi made me your slave, I remain the son of the Owl Butterfly God. I cannot stay by your side constantly. But I promise—I will protect you as best I can. I will not break my word."
"You're too polite, Divine Son," Yun Che replied with a smile. "I never expected things to turn out this way. Rest assured, I won't make it hard on you."
"I'll accompany you into the Misty Sea," Pan Buwang added. "All abyssal cores I gather will be yours. Consider that part of my promise."
Yun Che raised his hand. "Brother Pan, that won't be necessary. The coming battle in the Sea of Mist concerns the future of the Realm of Gods. I wouldn't dream of burdening you."
"Hmph. Enough with the false modesty," Pan Buwang snorted. "I've given my word—I'll honor it."
But Yun Che's expression suddenly hardened.
"Pan Buwang, do you not recognize your own status?" he said coldly. "I am your master now. My words are law. Follow Shen Wuyi's commands—do not concern yourself with mine. Understand?"
Pan Buwang froze. Though Yun Che's cultivation was only at the fourth level of the Divine Lord Realm… for the first time, he felt genuine fear.
Yun Che turned away, his eyes flickering with a chilling gleam. "The next step… is to welcome Emperor Yuan."
His lips curled into a smile. The pivotal moment of the Sea of Mist was drawing near.
.....
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