He Yuzhu returns in Siheyuan

Chapter 785 Zhang Jiao's Secret

He Yuzhu watched his fourth brother's retreating figure disappear beyond the courtyard gate, a smile involuntarily playing on his lips. His fourth brother was always a joker; just now, before leaving, he'd winked and said, "Go tell the little fox from the demon clan that Sect Leader He is thinking about her osmanthus cake," making him both amused and annoyed. He shook his head, suppressing this lighthearted thought, knowing full well that his fourth brother's departure was paving the way for future events—the invitation from the demon clan was ultimately unavoidable.

He sat on the bamboo chair by the window, his fingertips unconsciously tracing the rim of his cup, his gaze fixed on the old locust tree outside. The leaves rustled in the wind, as if telling a story. During his time in human territory, he felt increasingly constrained—whether it was the overt or covert probing within the sect, or the subtle surveillance in the court, everything was imbued with a heavy sense of wariness. They feared his cultivation level, and even more so his hidden connections with the demon race, as if he might betray humanity at any moment.

"Perhaps, a trip to the demon realm might be a way out," He Yuzhu murmured to himself. At least there, he wouldn't have to deal with all these layers of suspicion for the time being, and he could use the pretext of discussing old matters to find out the truth about the conflict a hundred years ago.

But then he frowned. The human race was currently unstable; Zhang Jiao and his group were secretly recruiting soldiers and becoming increasingly brazen. Just a few days ago, they even robbed a shipment of grain being transported by the imperial court in the suburbs, clearly intending to provoke trouble. This man was ambitious and ruthless; if they were to launch an attack while he was away from human territory, the consequences would be unimaginable.

The wind outside the window grew stronger, rustling the locust tree leaves as if urging them on, or perhaps warning them. He Yuzhu picked up his teacup, took a sip of the cold tea, and felt a bitter taste on his tongue. The road ahead was shrouded in mist. On one side lay the suspicion and constraints of the human race, on the other the unknown and invitations of the demon race, and behind him, Zhang Jiao was watching with predatory eyes. Which way should he go to protect those around him and uncover the buried past?

He sighed softly and poured out the tea leaves from the bottom of his cup. Regardless, he'd wait for news from the fourth brother. Some things couldn't be rushed; he could only take it one step at a time. He reached out and opened the window, letting the breeze, carrying the scent of grass and trees, flow into the room, trying to dispel the gloom in his heart—perhaps the answer lay hidden in this breeze, hidden deep within the still-unveiled mysteries.

Zhang Jiao sat cross-legged on the jade bed in the center of the secret chamber. A bone-chilling cold spread from beneath him, yet it couldn't suppress the turmoil surging within him. Veins bulged on his forehead like writhing dragons, each one distinct. Pale golden spiritual energy and a dense, inky black aura were frantically intertwining and clashing, producing a sharp, sizzling sound at their point of impact, like a red-hot iron being plunged into ice water. His teeth were clenched, his jawline taut like a bowstring, yet a venomous sneer curled at the corner of his mouth: "Qin dog, with your paltry demonic energy, you think you can possess my body? Utterly delusional!"

The black energy churned violently, transforming into a blurry, distorted human face before him—the remnants of Qin Gou's demonic consciousness. He had thought that with his millennia of accumulated demonic power, he could completely devour Zhang Jiao's mind and claim this still-powerful body for himself within three days. However, he hadn't expected the opponent's will to be as stubborn as a rock, holding on for five days without crumbling. Qin Gou's voice seemed to emerge from the deepest hell, carrying a hint of sinister surprise, yet also concealing a subtle calculation: "Zhang Jiao, you are far more stubborn than I thought. But… haven't you noticed? Under the nourishment of my demonic energy, haven't the internal injuries you sustained in the fight a few days ago healed several times faster than usual?"

Zhang Jiao's spiritual power surged violently, forcing the demonic energy in front of him back half an inch like a tidal wave. He knew perfectly well that Qin Gou was telling the truth—the deep, bone-revealing wound on his chest, inflicted by a magical artifact, should have taken at least half a month to heal, but now the skin and flesh had closed up, leaving only a faint red mark, and even the flow of spiritual power was much smoother than before. But he knew perfectly well that this demonic energy was like a malignant tumor clinging to his bone. What appeared to be "healing" was actually a subtle alteration of his physical structure with each repair, slowly eroding his spiritual meridians. If he didn't sever this connection in time, he would eventually be assimilated into a monster, neither human nor demon, suffering the torment of demonic energy devouring his heart for eternity.

"Stop with your seductive rhetoric." Zhang Jiao's voice was as cold as ice, each word icy. "I, Zhang Jiao, cultivate the righteous path to immortality, not to become a puppet of your demon race. Trying to brainwash me? Dream on!"

Qin Gou's demonic face chuckled, black energy swirling around him as if mocking his overestimation of his abilities: "Fine, fine, I won't say anything more. I'll just stay inside you and heal my wounds obediently, okay? After all, we're 'one body, one life' now." He agreed verbally, but in his heart, he had other plans—Zhang Jiao's will was strong, but not invincible. He knew best that even the most stubborn defenses could not withstand repeated infiltration.

Zhang Jiao snorted coldly and fell silent. He slowly closed his eyes, formed hand seals, and focused all his energy on suppressing the chaotic demonic energy surging within his body. But just as his mind began to sink, a figure involuntarily surfaced in his mind—He Yuzhu. If it weren't for that suddenly appearing brat ruining his grand plan to seize the core, he wouldn't have been chased and fleeing in such a sorry state by various sects, nor would he have been entangled by that demon Qin Gou while seriously injured, ending up in this predicament where he was caught between a rock and a hard place. Hatred surged up his heart like a poisonous vine, causing a tightness in his chest and his spiritual energy to become somewhat disordered.

"Yes, we all have a common enemy." Qin Gou's voice, like a viper's hiss, rang out in his mind at just the right moment, carrying a deliberate inducement, "He Yuzhu... Only by killing him can you put an end to your hatred and reclaim the opportunity that belongs to you; I can also avenge the injury I suffered from his Buddha light last time. If you and I join forces, why should we worry about him not dying?"

Zhang Jiao was jolted, as if struck by lightning. He suddenly realized that when Qin Gou mentioned the name "He Yuzhu," the power resisting the demonic energy within him had inexplicably weakened. It was as if overwhelming hatred had clouded his mind, and even his spiritual energy was becoming restless, creating a strange "resonance" with the demonic energy.

Qin Gou keenly noticed this change, a smug glint flashing deep within his demonic face. He continued his persuasive persuasion, his voice carrying a seductive magic: "Think about his arrogant face, think about his smugness when he ruined your plans, and think about the opportunity for immortality you missed... If you don't kill him, you'll live this life in this resentment, and your cultivation will never advance even half a step!"