Chapter 284: Ritual Money, Old Capital (11)
The true appearance of the old Fengdu followed the architectural style of ancient cities. Towering walls and a moat tightly guarded the sights within, preventing outsiders from seeing what lay inside.
But unlike ordinary cities, this place was far more terrifying.
Even if one could ignore the heavy pressure from the skulls, the river of blood beneath the bridge and the malevolent ghosts within it were undeniably real.
The official in charge asked the Taoist twice to confirm that what they were seeing wasn’t some kind of illusion.
“This isn’t one of those low-level illusion spells,”
The Taoist said, frowning deeply. He reached into his robes, only to pull out a handful of ashes—remnants of burned talismans.
The yellow talismans he always carried had already ignited automatically the moment they entered the old Fengdu.
All that remained now was a bit of ash.
The Taoist showed the ashes to the official and said, “If this were an illusion, it wouldn’t be able to achieve this level of realism. Besides, Mr. Yan personally confirmed that this is indeed Fengdu.”
Though the Taoist didn’t quite understand why there was a distinction between old and new Fengdu, he was inclined to believe Yan Shixun’s words.
And with the Taoist’s confirmation, the official’s last bit of hopeful doubt was crushed.
He gave a bitter smile and shook his head. He thought he was already quite experienced, yet this was his first time truly entering a ghost city.
He mentally braced himself, then took a deep breath and stepped onto the bridge.
The moment his foot landed on the bridge, the scene before him abruptly changed. The wide wooden planks were gone, replaced by a single-log bridge that could barely accommodate one person at a time.
There were no railings to hold onto. Beneath his feet was just a narrow, rounded piece of wood. It gave him the dizzying sensation that he was about to fall at any moment.
The official quickly stretched out his arms to stabilize himself.
Only now did he understand why Yan Shixun had paused after stepping onto the bridge.
This setup… was truly unbearable.
He wanted to turn back and warn the others who hadn’t yet stepped on the bridge so they could prepare themselves mentally.
But the moment he carefully turned his head, his sense of balance wavered, and his body began to sway uncontrollably.
Startled, he let out a cry and hastily tried to regain balance, twisting left and right in a rather awkward manner.
Worse still, the malevolent ghosts in the blood river below noticed his predicament. They let out a chorus of sharp, jeering laughter that pierced the ears like needles.
They reached out eagerly, scrambling to catch any falling flesh and blood.
The official only glanced down for a moment before his mind went blank, a buzzing sound filling his head.
For someone without professional training, maintaining balance at such a height was an extremely difficult task.
Even though one might logically understand that on flat ground, they could walk a straight line on a board of this width with ease, they couldn’t stop imagining what might happen if they actually fell.
And the result would be a gruesome death.
In this moment, his survival instinct ironically became a hindrance, making his entire body freeze. He didn’t dare take another step forward, afraid that one wrong move would send him tumbling into the hungry ghosts’ waiting hands.
Although the official trusted Yan Shixun, he wasn’t so blindly devoted that he would place all hope entirely in Yan Shixun’s hands.
This was the legendary ghost city, after all. No matter how capable Mr. Yan was, his power was limited to the human world. How could a mere mortal possibly fight against ghost deities?
Unaware of what was happening on the bridge, the Taoist, who hadn’t yet stepped onto it, simply looked on from behind with a puzzled expression as he saw the official stop in his tracks.
But after Yan Shixun calmly walked across the bridge while holding Ye Li’s hand, he turned around and immediately saw the official stuck awkwardly in the middle, unable to move forward or retreat.
Yan Shixun raised his eyebrows, glanced down at the area beneath the bridge, and quickly grasped the situation.
“Official, you don’t need to worry about anything—just keep walking forward.”
He raised his voice and called out, “Leave everything else to us. All you need to do is lift your feet and keep moving.”
After speaking, he turned his head toward Ye Li.
Without needing further instruction, Ye Li understood what Yan Shixun intended. He took a step forward and approached the riverbank, lowering his gaze to the blood river below.
When he clearly saw the evil spirits within, Ye Li furrowed his brows, a flash of disgust passing through his eyes.
Even though the presence of the ebony statue and the old Fengdu restricted his usual powers here, Ye Li was still a ghost deity who governed judgment. These ghosts, trapped in the blood river and unable to escape, were laid bare before his discerning eyes. He could clearly see the good and evil within each of their souls.
This massive old Fengdu had ceased operations over a thousand years ago. No new spirits entered, and only the evil ghosts of the past remained, locked up and subjected to endless punishment and torment.
The malevolent ghosts in the river of blood were no exception.
They were all remnants from a thousand years ago.
Although the evil spirits had never seen what the new Fengdu looked like, just one glance from Ye Li was enough to make them feel an overwhelming, suffocating pressure, as if they were about to be crushed into dust by a mountain.
The evil spirits, who had just been shrieking with laughter and causing a commotion, suddenly fell silent as if their tongues had been cut out. They turned and immediately dove back into the River of Blood, their ferocious faces twisted with terror, afraid that if they moved even a second too slow, their souls would be laid bare—or worse, destroyed on the spot.
In an instant, the once-boiling, chaotic River of Blood became completely still.
Aside from a few bubbles that surfaced and popped quietly, not even a ripple was left behind.
The official in charge had just been forcing a bitter smile, thinking that the comfort from Yan Shixun, though not really helpful, was better than nothing.
But the next moment, before he could even finish the thought, the entire situation shifted dramatically. The noise died down, and silence returned to his ears.
The evil spirits, upon seeing Ye Li, had scattered like mice spotting a cat—each fleeing faster than the last.
In the blink of an eye, when the official looked down again, everything was gone.
“What—!”
He was stunned.
He stared straight at Ye Li, and it was only now that he began to grasp what it meant for someone to be the Lord of Fengdu.
It was like trying to explain a thousand tons of gold to a poor man—he simply couldn’t fathom how massive that was.
The official was the same.
He had never seen anyone from Fengdu or the underworld before. Even when Yan Shixun told him outright that Ye Li was the Lord of Fengdu, the title hadn’t really meant anything to him. He had no concept of what that actually entailed.
But now, the official felt like he had caught a fleeting glimpse of the ancient belief in ghosts and gods.
Ye Li lifted his eyelashes slightly and gave the official a cold glance, then turned to Yan Shixun and said, “Let’s go, Shixun.”
That one sentence snapped the official out of his daze. He shuddered and jolted back to his senses. Seizing the moment when no evil spirits were around to stop him, he sprinted across the bridge in one breath.
Even after his feet hit solid ground, his legs were still trembling, and his heart pounded wildly in his chest.
Yan Shixun, quick on his feet, grabbed the official just in time to stop him from stumbling and falling to the ground.
“How was it, official? More thrilling than a roller coaster or a glass walkway at an amusement park, right?”
Yan Shixun teased with a smile in his eyes, his relaxed demeanor showing not even a hint of concern over the danger they had just faced: “There’s an idea. Next time the special department recruits people, they should list this as one of the perks.”
“Full benefits package, flexible hours, and amusement rides included.”
Yan Shixun shrugged. “That’s why my master never took me to an amusement park. When I was little, my classmates laughed at me for never having been. I went home and asked my master what an amusement park was. So he took me to exorcise a ghost instead.”
He thought for a moment, then added, “And he called it—‘a haunted house.’”
The official: “…”
Hermit Chengyun really was something else. This was what you’d call the ultimate haunted house!
Others paid money to go to fake haunted houses, but Hermit Chengyun took money to bring kids into real ones for fun. That was a whole different level of thinking.
The official looked at Yan Shixun with a complicated expression, not knowing what to say. But the look in his eyes made it clear—Yan Shixun’s sense of normal was truly out there.
Still, Yan Shixun’s joking had eased the official’s tension. Now that he had calmed down and thought about it, it kind of made sense?
The official: …Honestly, even now, I don’t understand what it is about Mr. Yan. Why do I always feel like whatever he says is right?
Yan Shixun let go of the official and looked toward the other side of the bridge.
Since they hadn’t known what was on the far side, the official had gone ahead first, taking the lead. The rest of the rescue team was still behind, with the Taoist bringing up the rear to guard against emergencies.
After the official crossed, Yan Shixun figured out what had been affecting ordinary people, so he stood on the far end of the bridge and calmed each team member one by one, allowing them to cross safely.
Even though these men were usually tough, now that they were in such close proximity to evil spirits, they couldn’t help but feel weak in the knees.
If they slipped and fell off the bridge, they’d end up as food for the spirits—not just dead, but devoured. That was even more terrifying than dying cleanly!
The official braced his legs and took a short break. Watching the fear in the rescue team’s eyes, he couldn’t help but shake his head in self-mockery and mutter to himself, “How can a mere mortal ever hope to contend with ghosts and gods…”
His voice was very soft, nearly drowned out by the conversations between Yan Shixun and the rescue team.
But the King of Hell, quietly standing nearby, still caught it with his sharp ears.
The King of Hell tilted his head slightly to look at the official, folding his fan and pressing it to his lips in thought, his gaze filled with amusement.
“Official,”
When the King of Hell called him, the official involuntarily trembled, feeling a chill rise from deep within his soul.
—Well, anyone would shudder if the King of Hell suddenly called out to them from behind.
“How can a mortal contend with ghosts and gods…? Isn’t one standing right in front of you?”
The King of Hell chuckled softly, lifting his folded fan and pointing it across the space at Ye Li. “That man over there—back in the day, he questioned heaven and earth, all while still just a mortal.”
Since ancient times, there had always been paths to becoming a god or a saint, but at the root of it, they all boiled down to just a few things.
One could either be born and nurtured by heaven and earth, a divine being from the moment of consciousness; or become immortal through cultivation, ascending to godhood with purple qi rising from the east. Alternatively, one could be adored by the people, and through the power of worship and incense offerings, gain the strength to ascend as a deity—recognized by the heavens and conferred sainthood on the spot.
However, someone like Ye Li, who rebelled against heaven and earth and refused to surrender, was truly a rare sight.
There was no such thing as “letting it go,” no obedient submission, and certainly no resignation to fate.
The tens of thousands of innocent commoners who perished in that city became the very obsession that bound the general’s soul.
He wished to let the people take revenge with their own hands, to resolve the cycle of cause and effect, so that they could move on without regret—reincarnate peacefully and forget the pain of this life, starting anew in the next.
But Heaven and Earth would not allow it.
—Because their deaths were too tragic, those citizens died with unresolved resentment. Even in death, they refused to leave the city, turning into ghosts that lingered.
Day and night, their spirits wept and wailed, cursing the heavens: “You must be blind, letting good people die young!”
Yet the Great Dao remained silent, unmoved in the slightest.
Those spirits, their souls still burning with obsession and fury, were judged to have fallen—deemed evil ghosts.
The King of Hell, well acquainted with the practices of the old Fengdu, had rushed to the battlefield—already littered with corpses—as soon as he learned of the massacre a thousand years ago.
But he was still a step too late.
At that time, the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor had already determined that since these souls were evil ghosts, they should be thrown into the prison of suffering to endure punishment.
Only when they willingly accepted death without any hatred would they be eligible for reincarnation.
But such a wait could easily span hundreds, even thousands of years.
The King of Hell had watched it all happen with open eyes, yet could do nothing.
The underworld had always been overshadowed by Fengdu. How could it defy a ruling already handed down by Fengdu?
All he could do was sigh—and try his best to secure a somewhat better afterlife for those wrongly killed civilians.
But that war general, his eyes weeping blood, hoarsely shouted at him: “You murder me, and still expect my gratitude? I’m not even allowed to resent death? What kind of twisted justice is that?!”
The King of Hell tried to persuade him with helpless reason. After all, Fengdu stood high above all—let alone a mortal general, even ghost deities and the Dao itself were powerless before it.
But the general only sneered coldly: “Well then, I’ll challenge this so-called justice! If the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor insists that no matter what suffering one endured in life, they mustn’t hold a grudge against death, or they’re branded an evil ghost—then I’d like to see if he’d still believe that, if he had to face death himself!”
The King of Hell was stunned, unable to stop him, and could only watch as the general led a hundred thousand ghost soldiers to march on Fengdu.
For a long time, the King of Hell regretted this deeply. He thought this general—who had fought for the people even beyond death—was destined to fall beneath Fengdu, his soul turned into yet another stone in Fengdu’s moat, a testament to its power, a warning to other ghost deities.
But then—
The King of Hell gently tapped the folding fan in his hand, eyes lowering slightly as a smile tugged at his lips: “Because the world is unjust, he carried sorrow and rage in his heart. Because of that, he defied the heavens. He never believed in dying obediently… He proved that his righteousness held greater power, and so even the Heavens and the Great Dao had to make way for him.”
Fengdu acknowledged Ye Li’s path. When the original Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor perished, a new Fengdu arose—embodying Ye Li’s doctrine—and replaced the old Fengdu, redefining the rules of life, death, and the balance between yin and yang.
He was dissatisfied with the rules, so he rebelled against them.
Thus, he became the one who made the rules.
And because Ye Li’s Dao surpassed that of the old Fengdu, another power—one not originally belonging to Fengdu—was stripped from the Great Dao and granted to Ye Li.
Fengdu had once stood atop the realm of death, ruling over all things departed. Even the underworld and Shing Wong were like ants before its colossal might.
If they dared disobey, their only fate was to be crushed into dust beneath Fengdu’s heel.
But after Ye Li, everything changed.
As the new master of Fengdu, Ye Li wielded authority over death and judgment, holding the power to decide the fate of every living and dead soul in existence.
Yet this new Fengdu voluntarily gave up half of its control over death to others.
From that moment on, Fengdu and the underworld became two forces that checked and balanced one another.
The fate of a soul after death would no longer be determined by a single entity. If a ghost died with resentment in their heart, they could now seek a second judgment from Fengdu.
Ye Li had stepped back of his own volition. Though Fengdu had originally been a ghost capital born alongside heaven and earth, it was the underworld that became more widely known among the living, appearing more frequently in the human realm.
Many people only knew of the underworld, and not of Fengdu.
The King of Hell had once been baffled by Ye Li’s actions. Why would Ye Li do such a thing? Could it be that, as a mortal man who became a ghost deity, he lacked understanding of divine affairs and made a grave mistake?
But after countless years passed, the King of Hell stood atop hell itself—and suddenly, he understood what Ye Li had done back then.
Fengdu relinquished its authority, allowing death to be reborn anew.
The era when the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor judged everything alone had long since passed, never to return.
Because of this change, spirits were now granted the opportunity to seek justice.
Those souls who had been wronged and killed by villains—bearing resentment and unresolved attachments—yearned to see their loved ones one last time, even in death. They still wished to avenge themselves, to ensure their murderers received the punishment they deserved.
They were unwilling to accept death. They hated death. But that did not mean they should be casually labeled as “evil spirits” and thrown into the tormenting prisons of Fengdu.
Karma had its own cycle.
If one killed, the ghost would seek vengeance.
That was the true end of karma.
If the living world failed to judge them, then the underworld would. And if the underworld failed, Fengdu would.
This was the vision Ye Li wanted to see.
—If a soul like Lan Ze, who had been tortured to death, was expected to feel grateful for dying, to forget his hatred for his murderer, and smile while heading off for reincarnation… how absurd would that be?
And if Lan Ze fought back and killed his murderer, only to be labeled an evil spirit and thrown into hell, then what difference would that make between the judging deity and a second executioner?
Fengdu judged karma; the underworld judged sin.
Together, they ensured that no wrongful deaths remained among the dead.
It was only after a thousand years that the King of Hell came to understand the grand plan Ye Li had set into motion a millennium ago. And it was at that moment that he saw the tender compassion beneath the cold and distant exterior of the ghost deity.
As the official in charge stirred his thoughts, the King of Hell even felt an impulse—he wanted to tell the official, to tell all the living, about the awe-inspiring things a certain ghost deity had done to ensure justice for them after death.
Even for someone like the King of Hell—also a ghost deity—it was something unimaginable, something he himself would never have considered doing.
Just like a man sitting atop a mountain of gold who gave away all his wealth, or someone wielding supreme power willingly dispersing his authority—how could a ghost deity possibly do such a thing?
Yet Ye Li had done it.
He hadn’t told a soul. Even most ghost deities had been kept in the dark. If one hadn’t been closely watching Fengdu, they might never have noticed that gentle and meticulous thread of kindness slowly unfolding.
The King of Hell felt he now understood why the Great Dao had chosen Ye Li.
“I heard someone’s feeling particularly generous these days—why not take it up a notch?”
The King of Hell mused, his pale, clean fingers lightly tapping his lips, his smile forming a graceful curve.
Ye Li, who had been watching Yan Shixun, frowned slightly. When he turned to glance at the King of Hell, his eyes were filled with disdain, clearly saying, What mischievous idea are you up to now?
The King of Hell pointed to himself. “It’s been thousands of years, and I’m still single. Even that little fool’s been single for over twenty years. Thanks to your exorcist, he hasn’t even struck a chord when it comes to romance. Wouldn’t that be your exorcist’s karma?”
“I’m not asking for much,”
He added cheerfully. “To undo a knot, you must find the one who tied it. Just let Yan Shixun—”
“Get lost.”
Before the King of Hell could finish, Ye Li raised his hand. A gust of wind burst forth from beneath his wide sleeve, sweeping the King of Hell up and hurling him backward like an annoying fly, clearly wanting him out of sight and out of mind.
Though the King of Hell knew how Ye Li felt about Yan Shixun, his intent had merely been to test whether Ye Li might harm him—he hadn’t expected Ye Li to erupt in rage.
Caught off guard, the King of Hell was swept away by the fierce wind and thrown straight backward.
Then came a loud thud!
The official in charge stared in disbelief. The tightly closed city gates had, miraculously, opened a small crack.
Outside the gate, the King of Hell crouched down, both hands covering his head. His once upright and elegant figure now curled into a ball. His beautiful eyes shimmered with tears, glistening and pitiful.
If it sounded good, it made for a good entrance.
The official fell silent for a moment.
By now, everyone had crossed the bridge. As the last Taoist was helped down by Yan Shixun, a sudden crash from behind made him instinctively turn his head. His eyes widened in astonishment.
“Zhang Wubing, what are you doing?”
Yan Shixun paused. “…….Did you think you were a battering ram?”
“You and that little idiot really are two of a kind. Why don’t we just call him Zhang Wubing and you Zhang Youbing from now on?”
He gave the King of Hell a scornful glance. At that moment, he couldn’t help but feel that—even if Zhang Wubing were the reincarnated remnant soul of the King of Hell—it made him seem far more approachable.
This guy was still that silly fool who once clung to his leg crying—dumb as ever, never a bright moment.
—The only difference was, at least this time the King of Hell hadn’t charged over to hug his leg and smear snot and tears all over him.
The King of Hell caught the full brunt of Yan Shixun’s blatant contempt. He went silent.
…Was this my fault? Ask your dear one! Ask him what he just did!
“Even though my divine name was destroyed a hundred years ago, I’m still a former King of Hell, not some nobody. Can’t you show me a little respect?”
Expressionless, the King of Hell looked at Ye Li, his eyes brimming with grievance. “Have you ever seen anyone use the King of Hell to open a door?”
Ye Li turned his gaze coolly. “I have. My household.”
The King of Hell: “…………”
Still, thanks to the King of Hell’s unexpected headbutt, Yan Shixun no longer had to worry about the city gate.
Although the old Fengdu no longer housed any ghost deities, its lingering might still remained.
For ordinary living people, entering it was no small challenge.
If Yan Shixun had come alone, it would have been manageable. But now, with the official in charge and others present, he had to think ahead and consider their safety.
His attention mostly focused on the official and his group, Yan Shixun failed to notice the earlier tension between the King of Hell and Ye Li, when swords had nearly been drawn.
It was instead the official in charge who glanced left at the King of Hell, then right at Ye Li, and finally felt—this was indeed what the ancient ghost deities were like.
Once he confirmed that, he actually felt a sense of relief, like his feet, which had been dangling in midair, had finally touched solid ground.
Immediately after, the official realized something else.
From the way the two had conversed without the slightest effort to avoid being overheard, he became aware that these two had lived for over a thousand years. In other words, compared to any current exorcist alive today, these two possessed a far more complete and extensive heritage.
His eyes lit up instantly—didn’t that mean these two likely knew many ancient classics and Taoist texts that had been lost over time due to war and the passing of centuries?
They were practically walking libraries!
And rare editions at that!
The official stared at the King of Hell as if he were a starving wolf seeing fresh meat.
The gaze made the King of Hell involuntarily shudder, puzzled and bewildered by how a regular living human could feel so… unsettling?
No matter how he thought about it, the King of Hell couldn’t have guessed that he was being seen as a mobile archive.
But regardless of how excited the official was, this clearly wasn’t the right time for questions.
He had no choice but to suppress his excitement with great difficulty, and followed closely beside the King of Hell as the group walked toward the gates of old Fengdu.
The King of Hell fell into deep thought: the official had clearly been wary of him just moments ago—why the sudden change in attitude? Was he trying to dig up information about Ye Li?
As he pondered this, the King of Hell lifted his head and looked at the two figures walking ahead.
Yan Shixun and Ye Li walked side by side, fingers intertwined, naturally and confidently approaching the gate of old Fengdu.
Neither of them showed even a trace of panic or hesitation.
Yan Shixun placed his palm on the heavy, blood-scented gate, gently refusing Ye Li’s offer to help.
He took a deep breath, his eyes sharpening in determination. In the next moment, he released a surge of immense strength, and the door slowly began to move, groaning under its own weight.
Each of them pushed open one side of the massive gate. As the thunderous rumble echoed out, the scene hidden behind it gradually came into view for all.
It was… a vision of Hell filled with malevolent spirits.
Even the King of Hell, who had once subdued the eighteen layers of Hell, could not help but tighten his grip on his folding fan and hold his breath when he saw what lay within.
He had never stepped foot in Fengdu. Whether before or after the great battle, no version of Fengdu had ever been a place someone of his standing should enter.
Fengdu, detached from the outside world, had never been under the jurisdiction of the Great Dao. It was completely the domain of the Lord of Fengdu.
Any ghost or deity who trespassed without invitation was considered a provocation. Even if they were killed on the spot, the Great Dao would have nothing to say about it.
A thousand years ago, the King of Hell had disliked the actions of the former Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor. He detested Fengdu’s doctrine of “pure death untainted by resentment or sin,” and thus had always avoided Fengdu altogether.
After the great battle, Ye Li became the new Lord of Fengdu. The King of Hell knew there was no need for him to approach Fengdu—each of them would fulfill their respective duties.
Only now, for the first time, did the King of Hell see the true face of the old Fengdu.
—Behind the heavy gate was a prison filled with malevolent ghosts.
Fengdu reflected the path upheld by its Emperor. Thus, the form Fengdu took would differ according to the ideology it was built upon.
Under the rule of the former Fengdu Emperor, who proclaimed, “No resentment should be harbored toward death; otherwise, one shall be deemed an evil spirit,” the old Fengdu had been crammed full of ghosts who, in life, had merely been ordinary people.
Some of them had once been honest farmers who rose at dawn and returned at dusk. But because of a dispute over farmland, their neighbors had poisoned their entire family and stolen their property. They died with hatred in their hearts—and were thus condemned by the old Fengdu as malevolent ghosts, imprisoned for their lingering grudges.
Some of them were street vendors barely scraping by with small trades, but after offending the powerful, they were trampled to death by horses in broad daylight.
There were also women from good families, forced into prostitution. Unable to endure the humiliation, they hanged themselves at noon wearing red clothes and red shoes, swearing to return as vengeful spirits.
…
All these ghosts were deemed malevolent by the former Fengdu due to the resentment and obsessions clinging to their souls. They were cast into this place.
Later, when the old Fengdu fell, in order to prevent these malevolent spirits from escaping, their souls were sealed together and sunk deep into Baizhi Lake.
The once-prosperous Fengdu became a prison for these so-called “evil spirits,” yet all the ghost officials had vanished without a trace. No one knew where they had gone.
In the entire city, only sorrowful wails and cries echoed. Everywhere, malevolent ghosts ran rampant, wandering through the old streets, reliving every bitter memory of their life and death.
Even after a thousand years, they still couldn’t let go of how they died.
Some of them had all their emotions and resentment eroded by the endless passage of time in this prison. They became nothing more than empty husks of souls—numb, hollow, and devoid of any light. But without ghost officials to release them, they remained trapped.
What everyone saw was a city full of blood, flesh, and corpses. Mad, raving ghosts laughed and screamed hysterically. Red lanterns hung everywhere, each with a skull burning with an everlasting candlelight.
Even Ye Li couldn’t help but furrow his brows.
As the Lord of Fengdu, he naturally could see the truth behind these so-called malevolent souls—their “sins” recorded within their essence.
But compared to truly heinous, irredeemably vicious spirits, these ghosts were more like Jiang Yanran and Lan Ze—souls who had suffered injustice.
If it had been up to Ye Li, these souls would have already resolved their lingering karma after death and been allowed to reincarnate.
Yet these ghosts, who had died more than a thousand years ago, remained imprisoned here, unable to be reborn for thousands of years…
Ye Li’s brows knitted tighter. Rage surged up once more from deep within his heart, just like the moment a thousand years ago when he stood on the battlefield and made his decision.
“Ye Li, what you once saw… was it really like this?”
After the shock passed, Yan Shixun finally began to recover his senses. His voice was hoarse: “A thousand years ago, was it this sight that made you decide to fight for the souls of countless ordinary people?”
Ye Li fell silent for a moment before suppressing his fury with great effort. He didn’t want the sharp and fearsome side of himself to hurt Yan Shixun.
“A thousand years ago, I never entered the old Fengdu,”
Ye Li said in a low voice. “Although I defeated Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, for me, it was only to demand justice. Since my goal was achieved, why should I, like those who massacred cities, step foot into someone else’s domain?”
Back then, Ye Li had chosen to let the old Fengdu die on its own.
From the moment he became a ghost deity, he had become attuned to the natural order. He knew that once the new Fengdu replaced the old, the former would naturally fade away. The heavens would take care of it. He didn’t need to intervene.
New replaces old, the cosmos turns. That is the way of things.
The world is impermanent, and so it is eternal.
A thousand years ago, Ye Li had merely confined the old Fengdu to its original site, not allowing it to spread any further. Then he turned away, letting it vanish into the folds of time.
However, the ghost officials who should have handled the souls inside old Fengdu after the death of the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor had already disappeared long before.
When the tree falls, the monkeys scatter.
Some of those ghost officials had never been loyal to Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor. They were originally fierce spirits themselves, merely given official posts. How could they compare to the ten thousand-strong army of the new Fengdu?
Those ghost officials fled in all directions, hoping to reach the human world.
What they didn’t expect was that Ye Li had already sealed the southwest region with the Fengdu Seal, preventing evil spirits from escaping. The ghost officials, thinking they were free of oversight and could run wild in the human world—amassing wealth and causing harm—never even got the chance. They were already blocked off.
And once the ghost officials left the old Fengdu, they came under the gaze of Heaven and Earth. They were ruthlessly exterminated, with no chance of survival, no chance to wreak havoc again.
Old Fengdu sensed the crisis.
Once the residence of a ghost deity, this city—built upon the Dao of Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor—possessed power of its own. It sought a way to hide itself, to disappear into something greater.
And so, for thousands of years, no one had truly entered the ghost city of old Fengdu.
Until now, when the King of Hell opened the gates of old Fengdu, revealing this hellish sight of evil spirits to the world.
Ye Li let out a silent sigh and said to Yan Shixun, “I’m sorry… Back then, I should’ve never left Fengdu even the slightest chance to cause trouble again.”
That brief moment of compassion from a ghost deity had been trampled and wasted.
Yan Shixun slowly shook his head. He didn’t blame Ye Li.
He never looked back on the past. His eyes had always been set on the future.
There was no point in dwelling on what had already happened. Only by finding a solution could there be hope.
Thinking of this, Yan Shixun remembered what Master Bai had said earlier.
That ghost official who had taught the Bai clan’s ancestor the ghost plays arts was undoubtedly one from the old Fengdu.
But based on both that ghost official’s actions and Master Bai’s description, the ghost official didn’t seem like the malevolent officials Ye Li had described. He had been a true soul-official loyal to old Fengdu.
After parting ways with the Bai ancestor, what had that ghost official gone to do?
The others may not have known the current state of old Fengdu, but that ghost official certainly did. Since he still cared about old Fengdu, shouldn’t he have done something to try and save it?
With this thought, Yan Shixun frowned deeply and took a step forward, crossing into the city of old Fengdu.
At that moment, he suddenly felt a flash of white pass by the corner of his eye.
He thought he saw a very familiar figure walking past him.
Instinctively, he looked up. In the next moment, his whole body froze, eyes widening slowly. His handsome face was filled with shock.
“Master!”
That person was dressed entirely in white, walking lightly across the bloodstained, bone-covered street. His robes fluttered behind him like a crane spreading its wings amidst swirling mist.
The wails of the evil spirits around them did not affect him at all.
He seemed to hear something and turned his head with a soft smile.
But in the next instant, he disappeared again around the corner.
Yan Shixun instinctively reached out, trying to keep him there.
But at that moment, a loud “boom!” echoed around them.
Everyone felt the ground beneath their feet tremble violently, like an earthquake had struck.
Startled, they turned around to see that the gate they had just passed through had shut itself.
But that wasn’t the source of the explosion. It was the towering city walls—built entirely of skulls—that had begun to shake and collapse. Skulls clashed against one another, making loud, clattering sounds.
Then the skulls shattered, and the massive walls that had reached to the heavens fell, swept by fierce winds.
The gate of old Fengdu completely crumbled.
The exit was now buried under thousands upon thousands of skulls—lost forever.
Beyond the ruins lay endless darkness, so deep that no one could tell where it led.
Ye Li reacted swiftly. Thick black mist instantly spread out from beneath his feet, rapidly enveloping everyone and shielding them completely—none of them were struck or harmed by the falling skeletons.
A skull tumbled out from the pile of bones, rolling with a clatter until it came to a stop at their feet.
As everyone lowered their heads to look, they were startled to see that the broken, incomplete skull seemed to be… smiling.
It was a peaceful smile—one of someone who had finally found release.
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