For long minutes, she stood in silent calculation, weaving plan after ambitious plan, each grander than the last, envisioning her overwhelming rebirth, once her wounded body healed, and the coffin was hers.
As for the bonding itself…
Her eyes turned to Wuji, a flicker of disdain passing through them. She could not fathom how a mere mortal had been favored by such a divine artifact. The thought alone was an insult. Yet she did not strike him down for defiling what she already considered hers, nor did she rush to bond with the coffin.
From his words so far, it was clear that bonding took time. Time she could not afford to waste by making mistakes and so she decided she needed to be in her most perfect state before becoming one with her divine gift.
To ensure there were no mishaps—no hidden dangers—she concluded that the mortal required thorough conditioning. He would not merely obey. He would become her ultimate dog, her true slave both in body and in mind.
Despite his current obedience, she sensed that some clarity and faint defiance still lingered within him. He was not yet completely broken. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but paranoia had kept her alive this long, better safe than sorry.
She flicked her wrist, and her faint qi struck his chest like a blade.
"Aaaagh!"
An agonized scream, deeper and more raw than any before, tore from his throat. Pain drowned all thought, merging anger and agony into a single, blinding haze. He could no longer think straight.
For dozens of minutes, his cries echoed through the cave. All the while, she interrogated him without pause, probing again and again for hidden secrets, for any truth he might still be hiding from her.
Yet even under that onslaught, he betrayed nothing of his true intentions. He gritted his teeth, clinging to the last fragments of a mind that somehow refused to shatter.
Perhaps it was an effect of the Heaven Burial Coffin, or the pills she had fed him enhancing his endurance—but no torture could truly break him. It could only push him to the edge of insanity, where his will teetered but did not fall. Had it been otherwise, he would have been lost from the very first torment.
Eventually, his body gave out completely, and he lay splayed across the cave floor, unable to move.
Only when she saw his hollow eyes, his face streaked with tears and snot, did she stop. She forced another Spirit-Clearingpill between his lips, but the truth was already written in his vacant stare: the damage ran deeper than she'd intended.
That should have been impossible as no ordinary mortal could withstand a poison meant to bind demonic cultivators.
But then, a flicker of relief washed through her as she watched his gaze dart toward the coffin. "Of course he isn't ordinary. He bonded with my divine gift, if only temporarily."
Still, even an exceptional mortal mind could be pushed too far. Worse, her supply of grade-one Spirit-Clearing Pills was dwindling. Another session like this, and he might shatter completely.
She pressed two more Blood Qi Nourishing Pills and two Spirit-Clearing Pills into his hand for later use. The fear of relapse lingered, or worse, that he might slip into true madness and forget her entirely, sealed inside a coffin she could not open.
That outcome was unacceptable. Still, she trusted her safeguards. Enough preparations were already in place. She allowed herself to worry no further.
Wuji sat upright, his posture stiff. His face was a blank mask, as though his soul had been hollowed out, leaving only a shell, even as the spirit-clearing pill slowly returned a cold, detached clarity to his mind.
"Mortal, take this." She tossed him a mid-tier Grade Two Blood Qi Replenishing Pill, one she had been conserving for herself.
Like a puppet obeying a string, he swallowed it without hesitation. Warmth flooded his meridians, spreading through his limbs and bones. His frail body stabilized; the white of his hair dulled to gray, as though he had reclaimed lost years. Slowly, he stored the remaining pills in his robe's side pocket.
Seeing him restored, she smiled faintly, then turned and walked to the coffin.
"Come. Open it."
Wuji rose at once and also stumbled toward the coffin and lifted the lid without resistance.
She leaned over, inspecting the interior. Aside from the sigils lining the walls, which Wuji explained in a flat, obedient tone, and from his words, nothing seemed outwardly threatening.
Still, she scanned the coffin dozens of times, searching for the slightest hint of danger, and found none.
Satisfied, she stepped inside and lay down slowly.
Before closing her eyes, she glanced at Wuji with a glacial stare. "Do not open this coffin for the next five days—even if they find us. I do not wish to be disturbed. Understood?"
Wuji bowed beside the coffin. "Understood, Master," he replied, his voice empty.
"Good." She said as she took out a low-tier Grade four Crimson Nirvana Pill, capable of healing severe bodily damage those below golden core refining realm, and a high-tier Grade Three Qi Replenishing Pill from her spatial pouch.
Swallowing both at once, she closed her eyes and began circulating the medicinal energy.
"Close the lid," she ordered, not opening her eyes. Wuji complied, lowering the lid with mechanical precision. The moment it was completely sealed, a long, trembling breath escaped his exhausted body.
Relief flooded his body, immediately followed by something far more dangerous: excitement and raging killing intent.
Even then, his legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground beside the coffin from mental exhaustion. His body shook as suppressed emotion surged through him silently.
"Fucking bitch," he cursed, his voice clearly carrying through the coffin. "You've finally fallen into the trap."
Inside, Mei Xu's eyes snapped open. Her circulation shattered instantly. Medicinal energy rebounded through her meridians, and she coughed up a mouthful of blood. But the pain meant nothing compared to the fury twisting her expression.
She surged upward and slammed her palms against the lid. But nothing happened.
For the next few minutes, she unleashed everything she had—qi attacks, brute force, orphan spells, and daughter spells from her cultivation cannon—striking, tearing, and hammering at the coffin from within.
Still, it did not budge and it did not move, not even a fraction. It was as if an ant were trying to move a golden mountain.
Finally, her qi depleted, she stopped. Her breathing came ragged, her eyes burning with murderous light.
"OLD MAN!" she shouted, her voice echoing from within the sealed coffin. "You had better open it immediately! When the Heart Gu poison activates, I won't give you the antidote."
Outside, Wuji did not flinch. The threat meant nothing. Opening the coffin now would lead to a fate far worse than any torture she had inflicted. At least this way, he still had time. Seven days.
Perhaps he could find an antidote, or maybe once the coffin devoured her, he could find a solution through her memories.
Either way, he would not open it. And more importantly, the devouring had not yet begun.
"Think carefully!" Mei Xu screamed, her voice muffled but harsh. "On the seventh day, the Heart Gu will unleash agony beyond your imagination. Open it now, and I might forgive you. You'll suffer, yes, but only a little. I swear it on my Dao heart."
Her threats washed over him like wind against stone. Wuji stepped closer to the coffin, his movements deliberate.
"You wench," he said, his voice unnervingly calm. "You questioned me about the coffin. You probed, tested, and tortured, and I told you everything you wanted to hear."
He placed his hands on the tapering head of the coffin and dragged the coffin to the center of the cave.
"I explained its functions. Its abilities. Its gifts. And everything it could do."
He positioned the coffin directly beneath the light source she had left, bathing it in pale glow. Though faint daylight still filtered into the cave, he wanted no shadows for the blood ritual circle he was about to create.
"But there was one thing," Wuji continued, his voice low, deliberate, and unwavering, "that I never told you."
He rested his palm flat against the coffin's cold surface.
"The most important part of the Heaven Burial Coffin." For the first time since she had met him, Mei Xu felt true fear.
"No. I cannot let a mere mortal frighten me. I still hold the upper hand," she insisted to herself.
"Devouring," Wuji said calmly. "It doesn't just devour your essence like demonic arts you imagine. It devours everything you are, and ends everything you could ever be, everything you could ever wish for, and every variant of you in every perceivable timeline."
The ominous words seeped through the coffin into her shaking body. Almost immediately, she felt a faint, inexorable pull, not of being dragged or seized, but of being drawn into an abyssal void, as though the outcome had already been decided and she was merely waiting for the process to complete.
"DAMN, DAMN IT, DAMN IT." Regret crashed over her. "Even after all that torture, he was still hiding."
Her earlier excitement curdled into bitterness. "I was blinded. I should have broken him for days. I should have stripped him down to nothing."
But regret changed nothing. Her first mistake had been hiding here at all. She should have fled completely like Wudi and returned to her stronghold; only then, from a position of safety, should she have turned her gaze back to the coffin.
Instead, she had thought herself cunning, hiding so perilously close to the gates of the Heaven Fall Sect.
It had indeed worked. The righteous searchers had passed by without a second glance.
But cleverness meant nothing under the weight of time and pressure, it made even the competent and experienced prone to fatal errors.
And now, in the cruelest turn, she—Mei Xu, the Illusion Vixen, a Core Formation demonic cultivator feared for her mastery of arrays—had been outmaneuvered by a frail, broken mortal.
Outside, Wuji moved with a cold, deliberate calm.
After positioning the coffin, he retrieved the sword leaning against the cavern wall and returned to stand beside it, his expression unreadable.
He extended his hand.
With a single, firm motion, he cut the blade across his wrist and immediately his blood flowed freely, pattering onto the stone floor.
Gritting his teeth, he began walking a slow, deliberate circle around the coffin, trailing a crimson line that seeped into the rock, tracing the ritual circle that was embedded in his mind by the coffin.
With each step, the air thickened, growing heavy with intent. Then, he began to utter the words of the Heaven Burial Coffin ritual mantra.
{Heavens above, avert your gaze. Earth below, forget this name}
At the incomprehensible words Mei Xu felt the mood intensify further. The air outside the cave stilled as if time was moving slower. The sky darkened gradually, clouds gathering low and heavy.
{This soul is offered to end of origin, to origin of end, to the bearer and lord of all ends}
Wild beasts within the range of Mei Xu's array began to tremble. Some bowed toward the cave, whimpering with primal fear.
{Blood returns to blood. Name returns to silence. Will returns to the place where all wills conclude}
The mood shifted for a mile around, solemn, and heavy. Wild beasts and even low-level spirit beast shuddered uncontrollably; many bolted in blind terror.
{Fate is erased, not torn. Time is sealed, not undone. Cause is consumed, not answered}
Several miles away, deep in the heavens fall sect, atop a towering mountain peak, inside a small Pavillion, a middle-aged swordsman sitting in meditation snapped his eyes open.
Restlessness gripped him as his calm heart hammered as if unimaginable terror loomed just beyond sight. He unsheathed his sword and summoned the five supreme elders, who materialized beside him in an instant.
He spoke of the unease and the terror in his chest.
{What was born has reached its boundary. What struggled has reached its resolution. What endured has reached its rest}
As the incomprehensible words were spoken, the feeling of impending peril intensified. Even the elders now sensed it clearly, it was a pressure that chilled the soul.
Yet their instincts screamed at them not to look, not to pry. One of them whispered with great effort, voice tight with overwhelming dread, that it might be the aura of a legendary Soul Transformation senior… or something far worse.
{Heaven, record nothing. Dao, demand nothing. World, anticipate nothing}
Wuji completed his circle around the coffin, his blood now a dark, glistening ring upon the stone floor. Inside, Mei Xu's body grew unnaturally still, as if gripped by the heavens themselves.
{By sacrifice freely given, by blood freely returned, by the Coffin that waits for all things—}
As he intoned the words, the blood circular array ignited with a dim crimson light. The coffin trembled, then lifted slowly from the ground, hovering one meter in the air.
{Let this existence be buried in me for eternity. Let what has reached its limit rest. Let what has finished, finish}
Inside, the sigils blazed to life. Nine threads of deep crimson light shot from the coffin's inner walls, piercing Mei Xu's body.
Her pupils—the only part of her that could still move—darted wildly. Absolute fear churned within her. She tried to speak, to plead, to vow that she, a cultivator, would bow, would serve, would be his slave.
But no sound came. She could only watch the sigils glow with ominous light, and hear Wuji's grating, incomprehensible words.
{This is the destined end}
Below the coffin, a fissure tore open in space itself, a dark void exactly the coffin's size. Slowly, silently, the coffin began to descend into that unknown dark dimension, where the devouring would begin.
After intense and draining moments of observing the coffin sinking into the fissure completely, Wuji collapsed to the ground, his face pale from blood loss, his breathing ragged.
A faint, grim smile grazed his lips for a moment, before the reality of his own situation returned. The heart gu poison pill still coiled around his heart, with no antidote in sight.