Chapter 1242: Offering Assistance

“So, Ziling knows Fellow Daoist Han?” Hu Qinglei asked, his voice soft, yet it struck Ziling’s ears like thunder.

“Indeed, this humble woman and Brother Han are old acquaintances!” Ziling’s dazed eyes seemed to suddenly clear, and she hastily averted her gaze from Han Li, forcing a smile. However, the rapid rise and fall of her chest betrayed her extreme agitation, as if she could barely contain herself.

“Miss Ziling, I never expected to see you here,” Han Li said after a long pause, rubbing his nose with a bitter smile.

After all, he was no ordinary man, and his expression quickly returned to normal.

“Oh? Since Ziling and Fellow Daoist Han are old acquaintances, that’s even better. Ziling, why don’t you offer Fellow Daoist Han a toast first? Once you enter my Demon Palace, you must sever all ties with your past. This cup of wine can serve as a farewell.” Hu Qinglei fell silent for a moment before speaking lightly, as if he had no interest in probing the relationship between Han Li and his future concubine.

At these words, the forced smile on Ziling’s face froze.

A maidservant from the Demon Palace immediately stepped forward, presenting a tray with a wine jug and an emerald-green cup.

Ziling lowered her head to look at the items on the tray, her dark, cloud-like hair obscuring most of her face, hiding her expression. After a brief pause, she slowly extended a slender wrist and lightly grasped the handle of the wine jug.

The tense atmosphere in the hall eased slightly with her movement.

The stern expression on the wooden-crowned elder’s face softened as well.

Han Li watched quietly as Ziling poured a cup of wine as red as rouge, then lifted it with her jade-like fingers. She raised her head and walked toward him with light, graceful steps, her face now devoid of any emotion, her gaze as cold and indifferent as if she were looking at a stranger.

The corner of Han Li’s mouth twitched, but he quickly regained his composure.

“Fellow Daoist Han, please drink this humble cup of wine,” Ziling’s voice sounded as if it came from a great distance, utterly devoid of emotion, as if spoken by an empty shell. Those in the hall couldn’t help but feel a pang of pity upon hearing it.

Han Li looked at the cup held inches away from him but did not immediately take it. Instead, his gaze traveled from the cup to her arm, then her body, and finally settled on her exquisitely carved, jade-like face.

Unbeknownst to anyone, his eyes narrowed slightly.

Instantly, the previously relaxed atmosphere in the hall grew heavy again.

This time, however, the wooden-crowned elder’s expression remained unchanged, though a cold glint flashed in his eyes.

Xiang Zhili, standing nearby, seemed to sense something and frowned as he glanced at Old Demon Hu. Meanwhile, Old Freak Feng merely chuckled darkly as he observed the strange interaction between Han Li and Ziling, his true thoughts impossible to discern.

The other Nascent Soul cultivators in the hall wore varied expressions, though most leaned toward schadenfreude.

Han Li suddenly raised his hand and took the cup from Ziling’s grasp. Without hesitation, he downed the wine in one gulp.

This action stunned everyone in the hall. Hu Qinglei’s eyebrows shot up momentarily before settling back into place.

A flicker of complex emotion crossed Ziling’s otherwise blank face. She stared at Han Li for a moment before silently taking back the empty cup and turning to leave.

“Wait a moment! Unless I’m mistaken, Miss Ziling has a restriction placed on her, hasn’t she?”

Just as everyone assumed that, given Hu Qinglei’s authority, this matter would proceed without further incident, Han Li spoke calmly.

Ziling’s delicate frame trembled, and she halted mid-step, as if rooted to the spot.

The entire hall fell deathly silent, so quiet that one could hear a pin drop.

“Fellow Daoist Han, perhaps you’ve had too much to drink. Don’t mistake drunkenness for clarity,” Hu Qinglei said expressionlessly, sipping from his own cup before delivering this pointed remark.

The displeasure in his voice was unmistakable.

“Brother Hu need not worry. Though I’ve had a few cups, my mind is clear. I wouldn’t speak recklessly,” Han Li replied with a faint smile, his eyes glinting.

“Is that so? Ziling, let me ask you—do you think Fellow Daoist Han is drunk without realizing it?” Hu Qinglei lowered his head to examine a hand adorned with a crimson ring, speaking without looking up.

Ziling’s expression shifted several times in rapid succession. Her rosy lips parted slightly as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Hu Qinglei seemed to sense her hesitation and raised his head to look at her.

The moment everyone caught sight of the wooden-crowned elder’s face, they shuddered, a chill running down their spines.

Though his expression remained unchanged, a faint layer of black energy now shrouded his face. His eyes had turned a faint red, gleaming with a cold light, utterly inhuman.

“Fellow Daoist Hu…” Xiang Zhili began, but the wooden-crowned elder cut him off with icy words.

“Even if this man was brought here by you, Brother Xiang, do you think I’ll tolerate being insulted to my face? Unless he gives me a satisfactory explanation today, he won’t leave this place alive.”

Xiang Zhili could only offer a bitter smile and shake his head, no longer attempting to dissuade Old Demon Hu. Instead, he turned to Han Li.

“Junior Brother Han, you must know what you’re doing. I can’t clean up this mess for you. Think carefully about how you’ll account for yourself to Brother Hu. I assume you have something to say to him.”

With that, Xiang Zhili leaned back and closed his eyes, as if washing his hands of the matter.

Though his words were few, Han Li detected a hint of protective intent. However, as a fellow Deity Transformation cultivator, Xiang Zhili clearly had no desire to clash directly with Old Demon Hu. Having given Han Li a warning, he could only watch from the sidelines.

Han Li smiled faintly and turned to Ziling.

“Miss Ziling, we’ve known each other for many years. You’re one of the few friends I have. If you’re under a restriction, it suggests coercion. While I have no wish to offend Fellow Daoist Hu, I can’t stand by and do nothing. But before anything else, I need an honest answer from you. Did you willingly agree to become Brother Hu’s concubine? If this is truly your choice, I won’t interfere. But if it isn’t…” Han Li trailed off, though his meaning was clear.

“I…” Ziling’s face flickered through a mix of joy, hesitation, and helplessness, as if she desperately wanted to answer but couldn’t find the words.

“No need to ask her. Once someone enters my Demon Palace, whether they become my concubine is no longer their decision. And even if she refused, what could you do? Do you intend to forcibly take her from my palace?” Hu Qinglei sneered, his tone dripping with mockery.

“So that’s how it is. Is this true?” Han Li sighed softly but pressed Ziling one last time.

“A few years ago, I inadvertently revealed my true appearance and was captured by several elders of the Heavenly Demon Sect. They brought me here by force. There was no question of willingness,” Ziling said, her gaze fixed on Han Li. Seeing how calm he remained despite facing the terrifying master of the Demon Palace—and realizing he had reached the peak of late Nascent Soul stage—her heart warmed, and she gritted her teeth to speak the truth.

Hu Qinglei merely chuckled coldly at her words, while the other cultivators in the hall showed no reaction.

Forcibly abducting female cultivators might draw condemnation in righteous sects like the Taiyi Sect, but among demonic factions and rogue cultivators, it was commonplace, even expected.

None of the guests in the Demon Palace had ties to righteous sects, so their indifference was unsurprising.

“With Miss Ziling’s confirmation, that settles it. Brother Hu, there’s no need for anger. I have no intention of opposing you. Everything in this world can be exchanged. What would it take for me to secure Ziling’s freedom?” Han Li nodded, addressing the wooden-crowned elder as if oblivious to his hostility.

“Exchange? With you?” Hu Qinglei’s expression turned peculiar, as if he found the idea absurd.

“Do you believe I’m unworthy, Brother Hu?” Han Li replied evenly.

“Precisely. What could you possibly offer me? Even if you’re stronger than the average late Nascent Soul cultivator, you’re nothing in my eyes. Or do you truly believe that just because Brother Xiang brought you here, you’re my equal? Besides, what treasure in this world could possibly tempt me? Ah, I’ve heard you possess two spirit treasures. But if I kill you, they’ll be mine anyway,” Hu Qinglei said darkly, a layer of tangible black light enveloping his body, as if he genuinely contemplated murder.

“Spirit treasures? I suppose Brother Xiang told you about those. But did he also mention the Annihilation Pearls? And do you truly believe the spatial node information I provided was complete? Or are you confident you can capture me alive and perform a soul search while I wield such weapons?” Han Li’s eyes flickered strangely as he suddenly transmitted these words directly into Hu Qinglei’s ear.

The vicious-looking Old Demon Hu stiffened, his face paling as he stared at Han Li with icy intensity, falling silent.

Unbeknownst to the others, a moment later, a faint voice whispered into Old Freak Feng’s ear—Hu Qinglei’s secret transmission.

“Fellow Daoist Feng, does this brat really have Annihilation Pearls?”

Somehow, the old demon managed to transmit this without moving his lips, a technique so subtle even Han Li’s formidable spiritual sense failed to detect it.