Chapter 88: Sweet Temptation

At first, Hongjian thought she would be forgotten in this sunless prison until she died—buried beneath the earth—or rather, there wasn’t even earth in this wretched place, only rotting straw. Later, she suspected that the decrepit elders who had thrown her into the Demon-Refining Prison intended to starve her to death.

The cell was too quiet; even the sound of her own breathing seemed magnified, echoing clearly. By now, it was already spring on Mount Danxia, and Hongjian, being at the Foundation Establishment stage, wore only thin clothing. Yet within the Demon-Refining Prison, it was cold and damp. No matter how accustomed she became to the darkness, she could only grope her way around. This feeling—being utterly abandoned by the world—made Hongjian deeply uncomfortable. She couldn’t tell if it was day or night outside and could barely sleep. Only her rumbling stomach faithfully reminded her that, since being locked in, she hadn’t touched a drop of water or a grain of rice. By her cultivation level, to be this hungry meant it had been at least seven or eight days.

Those seven or eight days stretched endlessly, feeling to her as long as several months.

In time, Hongjian resigned herself. Dying of hunger might be ignoble, but given her circumstances, at least it would be quick; it was hardly worse than quietly succumbing to old age and sickness in the dark.

Just as she was comforting herself with this thought, there came a commotion outside her cell.

Footsteps approached from afar. Hongjian tilted her head, unable to tell if the people outside were coming for her, but she could hear the steady “tap, tap” of shoes on stone—two people, unhurried.

Those who could move about freely in this prison were likely guards.

After a while, the footsteps drew nearer. Bored nearly to madness by the long days, Hongjian didn’t care whether it was guards or fellow prisoners; she hurriedly groped her way toward the door.

With nothing else to do these days, she had explored every inch of her stone-walled cell. She didn’t know what kind of stone it was, but the seams were few and fitted so snugly that, were it not for her delicate fingertips, she might not have detected them at all. The door’s gap was much larger, and there was even a small window—two inches long and one inch wide—set into it. Thanks to this window, Hongjian realized the door was as thick as her entire forearm.

Now, peering through it, she saw a flicker of light in the distance. The light wasn’t direct, as the visitors hadn’t yet rounded the corner, but even so, after so long in darkness, her eyes ached and tears pricked at the corners.

Her eyes had grown unaccustomed to brightness after so long in the dark.

Hongjian quickly closed her eyes, listening as the two people stopped outside her cell. The first man muttered, “Azure Dragon... Nine, we’re here—this is the one. Hey, is the person inside still alive?” Then someone knocked twice on the door.

Before Hongjian could answer, the iron chains on the outside clattered noisily. One man said to the other, “Come on, give me a hand—this door’s heavy.”

Hongjian squinted, letting her eyes adjust. As the door opened fully, she saw the two men by torchlight.

They were both middle-aged; one carried a white lantern, casting an eerie blue glow over them both, while the other held a long iron chain. The one with the lantern announced, “You’re to be interrogated. Get up and come with us!”

Interrogated? Hongjian sneered inwardly. She was curious to see whether the chief elder presiding over her case would be that surnamed Gong, or someone else. She’d heard that the Demon-Refining Prison was overseen by a dozen elders who made decisions by majority vote. She used to think this was fairness incarnate, but now, experiencing it firsthand, she realized all such tales were utter nonsense.

She couldn’t read the depths of these two guards. In this isolated place, cultivation was impossible; it was as if she were cut off from the world. Perhaps these were merely ordinary jailers from the mortal realm.

Shackled and fettered, Hongjian followed the two guards, stumbling along for the time it takes an incense stick to burn, until two massive iron doors appeared ahead.

The lead guard stopped and respectfully called out, “Elder Gong, the prisoner is here.”

The iron doors were pushed open from the outside, and standing there, as expected, was Master Gong himself.

He looked at Hongjian with indifference, as if double-checking her identity, and said blandly, “That’s her.”

The two guards bowed and hurried Hongjian to follow Master Gong.

She stepped out, and Master Gong shut the iron doors behind them. It seemed that, without special orders, even the guards were not permitted to leave.

Hongjian followed Master Gong in silence through a long stretch of corridor, passing several checkpoints. She thought to herself, “No matter how vile this Gong is, the Demon-Refining Prison’s defenses are indeed formidable and not to be underestimated.”

Now, weak with hunger and exhaustion, Hongjian could hardly think of anything else. Only when they passed through a damp corridor did she suddenly sense a change in the air around her—spiritual energy, faint but present, had returned. Though not as abundant as in normal cultivation environments, it was enough to replenish her nearly depleted reserves.

She faltered slightly, then quickly gathered herself and began circulating a mysterious technique to heal her spiritual consciousness. After reaching Foundation Establishment, the technique was easy to use and took effect quickly. Soon, her spirits had revived.

Master Gong seemed unaware and led her to a stone chamber. At the door, he announced, “Elder Ji, I’ve brought her.”

A voice from within replied courteously, “Thank you. Please, let her in.”

Master Gong stepped aside and, with a push of his power, sent Hongjian stumbling into the room—his strength far outclassed hers, leaving her no choice but to comply.

A wave of warmth greeted her. The stone chamber was a different world from the cold, gloomy prison.

On the wall hung a vast painting that captivated the eye: clear breeze, bright moon, towering mountains—scenes Hongjian had not seen in so long that she felt as if she’d crossed into another life.

In the center stood a square table laden with all kinds of cakes and fruit, even spiritual tea already steeped, filling the air with a delicate fragrance. An empty chair waited beside the table, as if everything was prepared for a starving Hongjian.

Master Gong did not enter; he closed the stone door behind her.

Still shackled, Hongjian remained where she was. On the other side of the table sat the man who had spoken, studying her from head to toe. Their gazes met, and Hongjian’s heart trembled—it was Ji Youyun. Nine years ago, in the Hall of Universal Splendor atop Scarlet Wheel Peak, Ji Youyun had left an indelible impression. Though he resembled an old acquaintance, she could never mistake him.

Ji Youyun actually smiled and said, “Hungry? Have something to eat first.”

Hongjian sat in silence, lowering her eyes to survey the food before her. Ji Youyun spoke again, “You remember me, don’t you? Surprised to see me here? Don’t worry, the food is clean.”

She wasn’t afraid that Ji Youyun might poison her; her hesitation was from trying to guess his intentions.

She hadn’t expected the man behind Master Gong would be Ji Youyun. He wasn’t young, but neither was he old—how had he hidden himself in the Demon-Refining Prison, and even become an elder?

Having put life and death aside, Hongjian found Ji Youyun not so fearsome after all.

She drank the spiritual tea to ease the thirst of these past days, then slowly began to eat. Her body was so depleted that without a full meal, she’d have no strength to deal with what came next.

Ji Youyun waited patiently until she was finished, then smiled approvingly. “Nine years ago, when we first met in the Hall of Universal Splendor at Scarlet Wheel Peak, I knew our fates would be tangled. For cultivators, life may be long, but success or failure often turns on just a few choices at critical moments. Fang Hongjian, you know as well as I do that you’re facing just such a moment now. Life and death, honor and disgrace—all hinge on a single thought. I’ve heard you’ve fallen out with Yan Changqing. Now, let me ask you again: will you become my disciple and learn from me the most powerful arts beneath the heavens?”

Hongjian was stunned—she could scarcely believe her ears. She was but an ordinary Foundation Establishment cultivator; how could she merit such “favor”?

She said uncertainly, “But I’ve already established my foundation.”

Ji Youyun seemed to forget he’d once declared publicly that his unique technique was useless to those past Foundation Establishment. He replied calmly, “Is that so? Then, what was the first martial path you cultivated?”

Hongjian blinked. “Why don’t you guess?”

Confidently, Ji Youyun replied, “No matter what you’ve learned, I have my ways. As long as you call me Master, no one will ever dare mistreat you again. We will stand together at the very pinnacle of the Dao, like Shang Qingzui, revered and feared by all cultivators. No, we will go even further. I can see the future: what he could not achieve—true immortality—you and I can attain together. Then, even if you wish to kill Xing Wuya or Dai Mingchi to avenge those of Mount Danxia, it will be the work of a moment. Once you’ve mastered my Insight Technique, you’ll know whether I’m lying.”

After Ji Youyun’s lengthy speech, Hongjian glanced at the remains of her meal and the painting on the wall. She could not deny that, after the so-called “rod of intimidation” and several days of solitary confinement, Ji Youyun’s offer was all the more tempting.

It was like sweet bait, dangled before a starving fish.

Hongjian’s face remained expressionless, even a little blank, but her mind raced. “What value do I have that he should go to such lengths to win me over? The Sect Jade Slip? Is it really worth it? No, there must be something I don’t know. Should I pretend to accept and leave this hellish place, then deal with him later? I’ve already begged to join the Talisman Sect—something like this is nothing. But I truly loathe him, and with his Insight Technique, he’d pry into my mind every day…”

A wave of deep disgust surged within her. She could not bear to feign any longer and said directly, “You can give up on that idea.”