Chapter 1539: Three Years—Did I Win My Bet?

Zhi’er quickly raised her head, "You cannot lock me up, the Heavenly Court will be anxious if they can’t find me!"

"What does that have to do with me?" He sneered.

Zhi’er cast a pleading glance towards Lu Wang behind Feng Fuce.

"Lu Wang, you..."

Lu Wang looked at Feng Fuce, appearing troubled, "Lord Demon, didn’t you say you wouldn’t make things difficult for Your Majesty? She is delicate and not suited to being tied up here, could you show some mercy..."

Before he finished speaking, Feng Fuce had already given him a warning glance.

Lu Wang silently lowered his head.

Zhi’er was finally stunned, "Lu Wang, how could you do this!"

Lu Wang felt deeply remorseful, "I’m sorry, Your Majesty!"

"What is there to be sorry about? Compared to the harm she inflicted on others with her words and methods, how does this count for anything?" Feng Fuce finished speaking and gestured to the grass spirit to close the door.

Zhi’er rushed to the door, only to hit the cold door.

Feng Fuce frowned for a moment, then slowly suppressed it.

Inside, Zhi’er’s choked voice came, "You can punish me, but could it not be now?"

Feng Fuce did not reply.

After a long time, Zhi’er heard their footsteps receding into the distance.

She could only slide powerlessly down and sit on the ground.

Lu Wang was sent back to the nine layered heaven by Feng Fuce.

And Feng Fuce spent the whole day holding the World Viewing Mirror, staring at it expressionlessly.

At first, Zhi’er curled up on the ground for a long time, long enough that he almost couldn’t resist going to see if she had passed out.

But it wasn’t long before she seemed a bit uncomfortable, clutching her abdomen as she slowly stood up.

Then Zhi’er retreated to that wide bed.

She lowered the curtain, and Feng Fuce couldn’t see inside, he only heard rustling sounds.

Next, two hours passed and Zhi’er never left the bed.

Did she fall asleep?

Feng Fuce pondered.

"Lord Demon..." Zhu Yan had already called out for the sixth time.

Feng Fuce came to his senses and put down the mirror, "What is it?"

Zhu Yan said softly, "Regarding the matter you sent me to investigate, I have gathered some information."

"Mutual Grass won’t bring much cultivation to Immortals upon consumption, but if someone from the Demon Clan uses Mutual Grass as an aid during cultivation, their power can significantly increase. It’s a potent drug for the Demon Clan."

That’s also why Mutual Grass only blooms behind the Demon Palace.

In the Demon World, only Feng Fuce has the right to enjoy this.

Upon hearing this, Feng Fuce slightly nodded, gesturing Zhu Yan to withdraw.

His thin eyes carried a cold, murky light as he pondered; given this, why would Zhi’er consume Mutual Grass?

Feng Fuce had no immediate answer.

However, he took out the red silk written by Zhi’er from his sleeve.

The words on it read—

"Three years have passed, did I win the bet?"

Feng Fuce took a slow breath, "What exactly is she betting on."

Zhi’er lay without eating or drinking on the bed, ignoring several attempts by the grass spirit to persuade her.

Finally, on her third day trapped in the Demon Palace, Feng Fuce came to see her.

At that time, Zhi’er was wearing a thin Moon Blue Robe, her skin was snowy white, and her loose black hair draped over her shoulders.

She just sat there on the edge of the bed, her exposed ankle awkwardly tethered by a chain.

Feng Fuce gestured for the grass spirit to retreat.

"You won’t die from not eating or drinking, so don’t think of using this method to threaten me." He spoke coldly.

Zhi’er raised her eyes, "I wasn’t planning to threaten you, I know you hate me. What you are doing now is merely venting. I’m not eating because I have no appetite."