What! The Wives in My Dreams Are Real? novel Chapter 1200

At the top of this chart sits Nangong Yantian; the color beneath his name is black. Beyond him, over seventy percent of the names in Wuliang Hall bear a black mark below. Only the dozen or so deities who miraculously survived the Chaotic Burial Divine Alliance’s onslaught have white markings under their names. It is clear that white and black denote two opposing factions.

Elder Ge occupies the center of the chart, his name unmarked—signifying neutrality. Alongside him is Ye Yu! His name, too, has no mark beneath it. After gazing intently, Xie Buyu taps her fingertip—and a color appears under Ye Yu’s name. It is gray!

Only Xie Buyu knows what gray signifies. And gray is not unique on this chart: Third Elder Dongfang Yelai’s name lies near the bottom, almost swallowed by shadow, yet it too carries a gray mark. Xie Buyu’s eyes grow icy. She murmurs, “There are no coincidences in this world—all is long since planned.”

Over the next few days, Ye Yu remains behind closed doors. He neither seeks out Nangong Yantian nor meets Xie Buyu; instead, he dedicates himself to mastering the proper use of the superior divine artifact Zhanhun.

He must admit: this little thing is truly strange! Its spirit refuses communication—no matter how Ye Yu tries to placate it, it remains silent, as uncooperative as a quarrelsome young maiden in the throes of a lovers’ spat—stubborn as a wild donkey! In exasperation, Ye Yu abandons persuasion in favor of force.

“You stubborn mule?

Think you’re the only one obstinate?”

Drawing on his Demonic Descent technique and the power of his divine form, he attempts to force Zhanhun to obey.

“If you won’t comply, I’ll make you!” But even a supreme divine artifact is supreme—it cannot be wrangled by just any True God–realm deity.

Having exchanged titles, the living mountain Dongfang Yelai speaks softly: “I have heard of your name from my junior—and you are an exceptional newcomer.”

“Zhencheng, wait outside; I have matters to discuss with Ye Yu alone.” Hong Zhencheng bows and departs. In the next instant, a green barrier flares up, sealing them within.

Ye Yu wonders at the caution—why such prudence between two strangers meeting for the first time? Dongfang Yelai’s smile vanishes; he leans close to Ye Yu and asks in a cold voice, “Where exactly have you come from?” The single question makes the whole hall tremble, its words laced with a divine force that rattles the soul. Ye Yu feels discomfort—but at that moment, the phantasmal Zhanhun in his arms exudes a gentle power that neutralizes the divine force, banishing all negative sensation.

He gazes at Dongfang Yelai and calmly asks, “Elder, why such suspicion?” The instant his words fall, a blood-red aura blooms around Ye Yu, enveloping the hall. A gigantic scarlet demonic eye bursts forth on his brow, fixed on Dongfang Yelai. The floor dissolves into a black sea of flames, heat roaring—a clear sign this is no illusion. Dongfang Yelai is slightly moved; he reseats himself and reins in his icy expression. Seeing this, Ye Yu relaxes his fist and everything dissolves—the grand hall remains as it was. Dongfang Yelai says calmly: “It seems you still distrust me, believing I sent you to spy upon me!”