Chapter 48

“Did you see that? Their faces were priceless!”

The next morning, Feng Liancheng still savored yesterday’s scene, “Spoils! Listen to that—how modest yet brazen. Who’s the winner? Who’s the loser? After all these years of Arka’s arrogance, it’s finally their turn to swallow humiliation!”

Yang Yi yawned.

Since Misty Town, she had slept little and eaten little, yet her physical condition had actually improved.

But lately, the hunger craving had grown more urgent; the human fatigue, the mental dullness, had returned.

Yet she didn’t dislike this change—wasn’t this what it meant to be human? Humans grow tired, grow irritable, sleep poorly and feel drained, eat little and grow hungry—it helped her blend in, kept her from standing out too much.

If she absorbed enough life source, she would become immensely powerful—she wouldn’t need to eat, sleep, or rest, wouldn’t feel fatigue, would live an endless life, growing ever more like a…

She had certainly imagined those benefits; it daily fed her mind visions of what life would be like after absorbing more life source—a vast, eternal, unrestricted, free, even sovereign future where all others became her servants.

But Yang Yi was currently human—a normal person, a person with moral boundaries.

She couldn’t pave her own path with the lives of her own kind.

She believed this was proof of her humanity.

Doing what you know is wrong but doing it anyway is courage; knowing you can do it but choosing not to is self-restraint.

In fleeting moments, a faint sense of pride surfaced in her mind—moved by her own “great sacrifice,” torturing herself to benefit all humanity—this was practically sainthood.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself! It’s disgusting! I’m going to throw up!” it spat venomously.

“Yes, thinking about it like that really is disgusting,” Yang Yi agreed, “Too melodramatic.”

It was momentarily speechless.

It felt Yang Yi had grown increasingly bold lately; in their verbal battles, it used to win more than lose, while Yang Yi lost more than won. It always struck at her weakest points, shattering her defenses, and then it would feel genuine joy.

But lately, Yang Yi seemed to have seized the initiative, using a “dead pig fears no boiling water” tactic that constantly made it fume.

It decided it was time to bring out its real skills.

“Do you truly care about humans? Do you truly value their lives? All these excuses are just to mask your own cowardice.

“You’ve been pretending to be a harmless little lamb—not to deceive others, but to comfort yourself. Because even now, you can’t face your true self deep inside; you want to hide among the crowd, making sure you don’t stand out.

“Yet at the same time, you avoid people, shun intimate contact, because you feel different from them.

You refuse to associate with the common masses, yet dare not admit—or even question—that you possess any talent.

“Yang Yi, you’re not just hypocritical and cowardly, you’re ridiculous.”

Yang Yi didn’t answer; her breathing quickened, her chest rose and fell faster.

Sharing the same body, it noticed immediately—and it was ecstatic.

“Yang Yi, what are you thinking about?” Feng Liancheng waved his hand in front of her, “The meeting ends today; we’re leaving tomorrow. If you have anything to take care of, do it now…”

Feng Liancheng winked. Yang Yi understood his meaning.

Should she meet Chris again?

They were thousands of miles apart; they might see each other only a few times a year. Was it even worth maintaining this so-called “romantic relationship”? Besides, she had no expectations for their future—because she had no expectations for her own future.

Moreover—his dazed, intoxicated expression from that day flashed in her mind; the sweet, vibrant energy still lingered on her lips…

No, no—she had almost drained his life force, almost sucked him dry, just from a single kiss.

If she had woken up a moment later, she would have watched a desiccated corpse.

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During lunch break, she lay on the hotel bed, staring at his message on her phone, unable to reply.

“Are you free tonight? I miss you…”

He’d asked the same yesterday, and she’d refused, citing work—then gone to help Zhang Ningning deal with the Soul-Hosting Demon. When Zhang Ningning begged her for help, her first thought was: Oh, perfect—I just made an excuse for being busy, and now I actually have something to do.

Now? Tomorrow she was leaving. Should she meet him one last time?

As she wrestled with the thought, his video call suddenly came through, making her phone nearly fly into her face.

She sat up quickly and answered the video call.

“Hey, my girlfriend, what are you doing?” Chris held a glass of some unknown juice, lounging comfortably on a recliner.

His hair was half-damp, sunglasses on, bare-chested.

The background suggested a terrace beside a pool—he’d probably just finished swimming.

The sight of his broad, muscular chest, the strong, elegant lines of his neck and shoulders, struck her so suddenly she gasped, nearly unable to breathe.

The impact was overwhelming.

“Cough…” Yang Yi cleared her throat, forcibly dragging her gaze from below his neck to his face, “I was preparing to reply to you.”

His beauty was like a sharpened blade—no subtlety, no indirectness, simple and direct, needing no refinement, no prior impression—because true beauty is inherently simple and direct.

Every time she faced him, Yang Yi felt utterly disoriented.

“I saw the news—today was the last day of the meeting. You’re leaving tomorrow?” Chris’s voice grew somber; he set down his glass and stared intently at the screen.

In sunlight, his pupils were nearly pale blue—clear, transparent—she thought of the white sand and clear water of shallow seas.

“Yes,” Yang Yi nodded. “Morning flight tomorrow.”

“Then can I see you tonight?” he asked hopefully.

Yang Yi’s heart pounded wildly—she wanted to refuse him, yet couldn’t bring herself to; she wanted to break up with him outright, but his hopeful gaze silenced her.

The old nightmare surged back: Chris kneeling beneath the altar, his handsome face withered and gaunt, yet his expression rapt, entranced—as if witnessing the most beautiful vision of his life.

That face merged with the one she’d seen on the terrace; Yang Yi’s heart sank, turned cold, and kept falling.

Her eyes caught a few scattered invitations on the nightstand; in panic, she flipped one at random—it was an invitation to tonight’s banquet, hosted by the United Nations, primarily for delegates from the conference, meant to foster relaxed interaction and mutual understanding.

“Uh—I need to attend a banquet… I’m afraid…”

Chris looked utterly devastated; Yang Yi wished she could stab herself with a knife.