87: Chapter 87 Powerful Women

"Wu Xi... be gentle... okay?"

The woman's voice was as soft as water, laced with a sob. Her fingers rested lightly on Wu Xi's arm, her nails pressing slightly, as if she were pushing him away.

Wu Xi did not move.

Cthylla felt as if a mountain were pressing down on her chest, the air in her lungs being squeezed out bit by bit. She could not breathe, a wheezing sound rattling in her throat. Her face first turned liver-colored, then a shade of purple, and finally, a deathly gray.

"Wu Xi... what... what are you doing..."

Her voice was as hoarse as sandpaper grinding against wood, her eyes filled with terror. She began to kick and thrash, her nails leaving bloody scratches on Wu Xi's arm.

Wu Xi's arm tightened further.

The creaking sound of bones grinding against each other was clearly audible.

"Crack!" A crisp sound—a rib had broken.

Cthylla arched her body violently, letting out a scream that sounded inhuman.

"Ah—!"

A mouthful of fresh blood sprayed out, splashing onto Wu Xi's lapel and blossoming into a large, dark stain.

She looked into Wu Xi's eyes, tears mingling with blood flowing down her face. Her gaze was filled with confusion, pain, and a despair that pierced to the bone.

"Wu Xi... why..."

"I loved you so much... why would you treat me like this..."

Wu Xi finally moved; he lowered his head and leaned toward Cthylla's ear.

"I like powerful women." Cthylla's eyes went wide in an instant.

Her pupils shrank to the size of pinpricks, and the pain and despair on her face vanished in an instant. In their place was a monstrous, venomous malice and ferocity.

"You... you knew all along!"

Her voice suddenly became sharp and shrill; there was no trace left of her previous gentleness and pitiful demeanor.

"You bastard!"

She opened her mouth wide, revealing a set of white, gleaming fangs, and bit down hard toward Wu Xi's neck.

It was too late.

Wu Xi's arm twisted violently.

"Bang!"

With a dull thud, Cthylla's body was severed right in the middle.

Warm, metallic-smelling blood rained down, splashing onto Wu Xi's face, hair, and clothes.

As the blood mist dissipated, there was no sign of Cthylla's corpse on the ground.

Instead, there was only a scantily clad female ghost. Her semi-transparent body had a gruesome wound, and she was clutching her chest, staring at Wu Xi in terror, as if she had seen a ghost.

"Impossible... impossible..." Her voice trembled uncontrollably. "My 'Illusion of Sentiment', no one has ever been able to see through it... never..."

Wu Xi released his grip and brushed the bloodstains off his clothes.

Then, he looked up at the female ghost.

His gaze was devoid of any emotion. The female ghost was so terrified that she felt her Soul Flying Away and Spirit Scattering, and she turned and fled immediately.

Just then.

"Xiaohua! Xiaohua, where are you!"

Niu Fei's voice suddenly rang out, filled with heart-wrenching anxiety.

Jiang Yuehong's weeping followed.

Wu Xi stopped in his tracks.

He turned his head to look.

He saw Niu Fei acting like a madman, spinning in circles, grasping blindly at the air with both hands, his eyes bloodshot.

Jiang Yuehong was slumped on the ground, pale as a sheet, tears falling like broken strings of pearls. There was no one around her.

"Hahaha... hahahaha..."

A lewd, uproarious laughter echoed from the Void Realm. The surrounding fog suddenly churned violently.

Pink mist, carrying a cloying scent of cosmetics, surged in from all directions.

A fat, vicious ghost slowly emerged from the mist.

He wore a bright red robe, and his belly was round, like an overturned pot. His face was sallow, his eyes were squinted into slits, and he was waving a pink fan in his hand, his expression as sleazy as it could possibly be.

Behind him followed two female ghosts.

One was the Frivolous Ghost who had just been injured by Wu Xi.

The other was dressed in gauze as thin as cicada wings, her skin visible beneath, her eyes alluring; it was the Entwining Ghost.

"Lustful Hungry Ghost!"

Lustful Hungry Ghost waved his fan, smiling even more smugly.

"Not bad, not bad, you have some insight."

He swept his gaze over them and licked his lips. "Didn't expect this, did you? You just slaughtered that trash, King Xianlian, and stumbled right into this seat's 'Illusion of Sentiment'."

"That Cthylla from just now was merely a little trick by my subordinate, the Frivolous Ghost."

"As for that little girl and that pretty boy..." He paused, a lewd smile appearing on his face, "Naturally, they have been invited by this seat to be properly 'entertained'."

Niu Fei's eyes instantly turned red, and he raised his Xuanhua Axe, ready to charge.

"Hey—don't move."

Lustful Hungry Ghost flicked his fan gently.

"Let me tell you," he said, his smile vanishing and his voice turning cold, "the most powerful aspect of my 'Illusion of Sentiment' is not killing, but breaking the heart."

"In everyone's heart, there is someone they care about most, an obsession they cannot let go of."

"My illusion will magnify these obsessions ten thousand times."

"Leaving you to wallow in your own emotions—crying, laughing, going mad, and dying."

"Once your minds are completely devoured, you will become my Puppets, remaining in this Wukong Temple forever, to amuse me."

As soon as he finished speaking, the pink mist suddenly became dense.

A cloying, sweet fragrance crept into everyone's nostrils.

"Oh no!" Jiang Jiye's expression changed drastically. She hurriedly pulled a stack of talismans from her bosom, intending to stick them onto everyone.

It was too late; the mist had already entered their orifices.

The world spun.

The scene before their eyes changed in an instant.

Niu Fei found himself standing in a dark, damp cave.

The air was thick with the smell of blood and rust.

Various torture implements hung on the walls. Iron chains, whips, branding irons, and other things he could not name, all stained with dark red blood.

In the center of the cave stood a cross.

A little girl was tied to it; it was Niu Yaya.

Her clothes were torn to shreds, and her body was covered in whip marks and burns, her face smeared with tears and dirt.

Several hideous ghosts were holding whips, lashing her again and again.

"Crack! Crack!" The whips landed on her delicate skin, leaving deep, bloody welts.

"Brother... save me... Brother..."

Xiaohua cried out heart-wrenchingly, reaching her hand toward Niu Fei.

"Xiaoya!" Niu Fei let out a beast-like roar.

"I'll kill your ancestors! I'm going to kill you! I'm going to kill you!" But those evil ghosts were like shadows.

His axe passed right through them; he could not cut anything. Yet, Xiaohua's cries grew more and more miserable.

"Brother... I'm in so much pain... Brother... I'm dying..."

Niu Fei's heart felt as if it were being gripped by a giant hand and then crushed violently.

He attacked even more frantically, roaring incessantly.

His sanity was slipping away, bit by bit.

On the other side.

Qiu Chuanxing stood atop a mountain of corpses in a sea of blood, the setting sun as red as blood.

The ground was littered with corpses and broken swords.

His comrades-in-arms had fallen before him, one by one.

The last one to fall was his best brother, his savior, Zhao Hu.

Zhao Hu lay on the ground, a long sword plunged into his chest, blood gushing out endlessly.

"Qiu Chuan... run..." He grabbed Qiu Chuanxing's hand, his strength fading.

"Live on... for us..." After saying this, his hand dropped.

His eyes closed forever.

"No—!" Qiu Chuanxing let out a painful roar.

Back then, if he had not been young and hot-headed, acting impulsively and walking into the enemy's ambush, his comrades would not have died trying to save him.

For so many years, he had lived in self-reproach and guilt.

"It's all my fault... it's all my fault..."

He knelt on the ground, clutching his head with both hands, his body trembling uncontrollably.

The long sword clattered to the ground.

He was plunged into deep despair.

Jiang Jiye's world was a sea of fire; raging flames engulfed the entire Wukong Temple.

The crackling of burning wood, the roar of collapsing houses, and the shrieks of evil ghosts intertwined.

"Snap."

A crisp snap of fingers.

All the scenes shattered instantly.

Ling Muxue stood in place, arms crossed, a disdainful smile on her face.

"Is that it?"

She raised an eyebrow.

"What 'Illusion of Sentiment', it's nothing but low-class tricks."

"I've seen all kinds of storms in my life; you think this little thing can trap me?"

She looked around.

The pink mist was still swirling.

Niu Fei was still in place, frantically swinging his Xuanhua Axe, shouting "Xiaohua" incessantly.

Qiu Chuanxing was kneeling on the ground, clutching his head, mumbling in pain.

Jiang Jiye was holding a dagger, her eyes vacant, about to stab her own heart.

Jiang Yuehong was curled up in a corner, shivering, crying like a tear-stained mess, not knowing what she was experiencing.

Only one person.

Wu Xi.

Was completely unaffected by the illusion.