He silently withdrew from the cave, granting the Moist couple their final moments alone. Although Mo Fenghuang could also pass through the formation, due to the malevolent bloodlust of the mysterious mechanical beast, Mo Li absolutely forbade her from stepping inside. The two merely gazed at each other across the barrier, silent and choked with emotion.

The demonic aura outside the cave had been purged, and the air in the deep mountains was surprisingly fresh. The recent weather remained overcast, sunless and heavy, with moisture gathering in the grey-blue sky as if rain were imminent once more.

Feng Zikang found a clean, large stone and semi-reclined upon it, holding a stalk of grass between his teeth as he quietly gazed upward.

"Once he's dead, I'll head to the Eastern Sea to find that Demon Residence..."

This should have been the plan all along; if his Life Bamboo Tablet had saved Mo Li, he would naturally have departed after claiming his reward. Now that Mo Li was dead, there was no prospect of payment. He only wondered if there was any way to claim ownership of that mechanical beast.

If not, he would have to go to the Eastern Sea anyway, but he felt an irreducible sense of dissatisfaction. The echoes within the cave were strong, and he could still distinctly hear Mo Fenghuang’s muffled sobs.

"He got what he sought in seeking benevolence; why is she weeping now?"

In contrast, although Mo Fenghuang’s cultivation surpassed Mo Li’s, her adherence to the Moist Spirit was far inferior to his. According to Mo Family rules, since Mo Li died saving someone, she should not be weeping but rather rejoicing.

Yet, people possess private feelings; how could they entirely disregard emotion?

Even if she were the reincarnation of a Moist Sage, the beloved daughter of the current Moist Master, and a genius universally acknowledged by the Moists—she was, after all, a young woman about to lose her fiancé.

The Way of Moism, in forcibly transmuting the personal into the selfless, possessed a grand sentiment, but practicing it proved agonizingly difficult.

Perhaps the Demonic Path...

Feng Zikang suddenly offered a bitter smile. Which path in this world wasn't easy to know but hard to practice? The Demonic Path demanded the eradication of all compassion, reducing everything to self-interest. Grasping this concept was easy, and everyone found it simple to obey.

Actually, being utterly selfish was not easy at all.

If Moism represented one extreme, the Demonic Path represented another. However, while people found the notion of selfishness reasonable and seemingly effortless, asking them to slaughter kin or a beloved one to achieve the Demonic Way was something they might ultimately fail to execute when the moment arrived.

Even if someone acted rashly in a fit of passion and committed such an act, it was often fueled merely by a surge of violent energy, done haphazardly, not through genuine comprehension of the Demonic Way's profound heartlessness.

By comparison, the Confucian principle of "favoring the near and distancing the distant"—being naturally good to one's own and naturally harsh to enemies—was the most widely accepted. No wonder Confucianism spread throughout the world; it aligned with the nature of most people.

A spark ignited in Feng Zikang's mind, seemingly revealing a sliver of insight into the supreme Celestial Demon Path. But further contemplation yielded only a faint, almost intangible sense of understanding, hidden deep within his demonic heart and consciousness.

"I still can't break through the first layer of the Demonic Heart..."

After possessing this body, Feng Zikang adhered to the first stage of the Demonic Path: "Good to the good, evil to the evil." Those who treated him well, he might consider treating well in return; those who treated him ill, he would naturally eradicate without hesitation.

He had hoped to use this very opportunity to shatter the realm of "nothing exists but me," yet some lingering attachments held him back.

The weeping gradually subsided, and Mo Fenghuang emerged, her appearance haggard. "Little brother, Ah Li has a few words for you. Kindly step inside..."

Feng Zikang agreed and entered the cave. In just a moment, another layer of flesh and blood on Mo Li's body had been eroded. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth, his forehead beaded with fine sweat, clearly enduring unbearable pain.

"Zikang," Mo Li opened his eyes, seeing the sorrow in his expression, and managed a weak smile. "You needn't worry too much for me. This is inherently the Way of Moism; achieving the Dao through this is also an opportunity..."

"It's just that there are matters in the mortal world that weigh heavily on my mind. I must ask Brother Zikang for help—I am truly ashamed!"

Mo Li sighed, unsure whether he was lamenting his own imperfect Dao heart or his premature demise.

"Brother Mo, please speak! If I, your junior brother, can accomplish it, I will naturally face ten thousand deaths without complaint!"

The man was dying; Feng Zikang’s words were naturally delivered with dramatic fervor, though it was hard to tell how much was genuine and how much feigned.

What Mo Li was truly concerned about, Feng Zikang could mostly guess: his impartiality meant his greatest attachments were perhaps the vow to transform the Southern Barbarians and his delicate fiancée.

As for transforming the Southern Barbarians, Feng Zikang certainly had no time for such endeavors. If fate offered a chance to gently push things along, that would be acceptable.

Regarding Mo Fenghuang, Feng Zikang offered a bitter internal smile. As a member of the Moist Sect, where was her independent self? Even if he wanted to look after her out of respect for Mo Li, he couldn't stop her if she chose to rush to her own death. It seemed he could only do his best with this matter.

Who knew that the first thing Mo Li mentioned was neither of those two matters?

"Brother Zikang, the Thirty-Six Linked Peaks of Mangcang Mountain cultivate demonic arts using the souls of the living—it is an unforgivable evil. I have reported this to my Master, and I expect senior elders will arrive soon to eradicate the demons. However, in these next few days, I fear they might harm the lives of the surrounding populace. I just instructed Fenghuang to harass them..."

Isn't this sending her to her death!

Feng Zikang inwardly gasped. People of the Moist Sect truly did give instructions differently; the first thing he requested was for his fiancée to go court death.

"...I only told her to act within her limits, absolutely never to follow my example..."

Mo Li's voice trailed off, sounding immensely ashamed.

He ultimately possessed that sliver of selfishness, unwilling to see his beloved rush headlong to her end without reason.

Feng Zikang sighed emotionally. "Brother Mo, are you asking me to look after her? But my cultivation is low; I fear if Senior Sister Mo insists on challenging the White Bone Divine Lord, I won't be of much use..."

If Mo Fenghuang insisted on seeking death herself, why should he involve himself?

"If that is the case, I would naturally not trouble you, Zikang. What I ask is only for your consideration and decision; if you can lend a hand, then offer your assistance..."

Since that was the case, it posed no issue, and Feng Zikang nodded his agreement.

"These past few days, merging with this mechanical beast, though my life is drawing short, I have gained a hazy comprehension of the Heavenly Dao, knowing that the great tribulation is imminent. You, Zikang, are the one destined to face it, and your affairs are numerous. I feel terribly for troubling you to remain here and watch over things... In entering this grotto, I obtained something. Brother Zikang, please take it now; consider it the reward for this matter!"