Exile and a Ten-Thousand-Year Pact

"Hmph." Lei Dong grabbed at empty space with his right hand, and the true essence within him turned into a surging mass of Netherworld Ghost Qi. He unleashed Black Dragon Chant once more. Amid the dragon's thunderous roar, the black dragon had grown dozens of yards long, its whiskers flaring as it came vividly to life. Coiling and twisting through the air with a piercing roar, it shattered space and appeared directly before Ji Ziyan.

"Something's wrong. You're not Yan Chi Xing." Ji Ziyan's expression sharpened, and she suddenly snapped out of her daze. She raised a hand and slapped at the dragon's head. A palm imprint appeared in midair. The mighty black dragon shattered beneath the blow, turning into countless wisps of Black Qi that dissipated into the sky.

Ji Ziyan's expression was solemn as she fixed her gaze on Lei Dong, as if trying to spot some clue in his face. Her heart was a tangled mess. This young human was indeed nothing like the heartless Yan Chi Xing. And yet his temperament, everything about him, resembled Yan Chi Xing from before he had reached his peak. The same stubbornness, the same coldness, even the deep arrogance hidden in the depths of his heart.

Even the Emperor Devil Seed that surfaced on his forehead during battle was exactly the same. And then there was the Chaos Pagoda, which had flown out and automatically protected him when he underwent tribulation. Everything about him was so familiar. Her memories of those moments with Yan Chi Xing swept past, as if they were happening right before her eyes—some joyful, some moving, some filled with delight, and many with endless sorrow. With their opposing allegiances, their love had been doomed to end in tragedy.

"So you're Yan Chi Xing's successor." Ji Ziyan