Chapter 285: Ritual Money, Old Capital (12)
No one had expected that the seemingly indestructible Old Fengdu would be so fragile and vulnerable. The moment they stepped into Old Fengdu, the entire place collapsed.
For a moment, the rescue team members stood frozen in shock.
“Does this mean… we’ve succeeded?”
One of the rescue team members murmured in disbelief. None of them had anticipated success to come so quickly.
Even the official in charge was stunned. He had braced himself for a hard-fought battle, but the situation—rising so high only to fall so softly—was beyond anything he had imagined. It felt as though he had overexerted himself only to stumble clumsily.
But compared to these people, Yan Shixun and the Taoist’s expressions were especially grim.
Outsiders saw only the spectacle, but those who had truly embarked on the path of cultivation knew well that this wasn’t a sign of Old Fengdu’s defeat. This wasn’t a victory for them.
The truth stood in stark contrast to appearances. In fact, from this point onward, the difficulty of dealing with Old Fengdu would increase dramatically. This was the true hell mode—so perilous that it could claim not just their lives, but their souls as well.
Though the city walls of Old Fengdu had collapsed, seeming to signal weakness, a closer look revealed the truth: their path of entry had been completely sealed off.
With no entrance, there could be no exit.
They could no longer leave Old Fengdu through normal means and were now truly trapped in a ghost-infested hell.
If they failed, forget about anyone finding their bodies— even the fragments of their souls would vanish without a trace across the heavens and the earth.
At that point, they would be utterly annihilated, reduced to just one more skeleton among the countless others in Old Fengdu.
Was this… an elaborate trap?
Yan Shixun, furious to the point of laughter, curled his lips and looked up at the black and crimson sky above with a mocking smile.
Even though this situation was extremely difficult for the Taoist to handle, Yan Shixun had still managed to deduce some valuable information from it.
First, just as he had suspected, Old Fengdu retained a certain degree of awareness even after the death of the ghost deity. It still had the ability to act of its own accord.
Second, Old Fengdu had indeed been involved in the birth of the Ghost Dao.
Yan Shixun was well aware of his own constitution—an Evil Spirit Bone Transformation. Ever since he had learned the truth about the Great Dao from Ye Li and the King of Hell, he knew the Dao would inevitably cast its gaze upon him.
In other words, he had become a key focus of the Great Dao.
Everything and everyone around him would fall under the scrutiny of the Dao.
That was precisely why Zhang Wubing, the reincarnated remnant soul of the King of Hell, had never dared to reveal himself from within the shadows. Fearing discovery by the Dao, he had kept the truth hidden for years. Only after entering the ghost plays controlled by the ghost infant—thus escaping the Dao’s control—did the King of Hell finally show himself.
Now, with Yan Shixun and his Evil Spirit Bone Transformation having vanished in the southwest and the Ghost Dao in rebellion, the Great Dao surely had its attention focused intensely on the region. It would not let any news related to Yan Shixun slip by.
And if the Dao discovered that Yan Shixun was in Old Fengdu, the ghost city—barely surviving in secret all this time—would undoubtedly be exposed to the Dao’s eyes.
That was something Old Fengdu could not allow.
So, it had rushed to seal Yan Shixun and the others within its walls, terrified that letting them escape would reveal its existence.
And the most critical point of all…
Yan Shixun realized that Old Fengdu feared him. It feared Ye Li, the true lord of Fengdu.
Old Fengdu wanted to silence them, but in its haste, it had exposed its fear before Yan Shixun.
Old Fengdu had tried to strike, but instead had shown its hand to Yan Shixun—allowing him to clearly grasp the truth behind the ghost city and validate suspicions he previously had no evidence for.
In the struggle between the Great Dao and ghost deities, whoever feared first—whoever wavered in their path—would be the one to lose.
If Yan Shixun had originally been fifty percent confident he could prevent the Ghost Dao from fully forming, now that confidence had risen to eighty percent.
When the enemy showed fear, their momentum faltered.
And in such matters, either the west wind overpowered the east, or the east wind crushed the west entirely.
Yan Shixun looked up at the crimson-black sky over Old Fengdu with a cold smile. His sharp eyes gleamed with breathtaking intensity.
He mouthed silently: Wait for me. I’ll kill you.
The once-calm sky above them instantly stirred. Black clouds surged like the eye of a storm, and the blood-colored canopy gathered and dispersed wildly. It pressed lower and lower, as though it might crash down any moment and crush everything beneath it.
Instead of fear, Yan Shixun felt his battle spirit ignite even more fiercely—surging from his chest like a roaring flame.
“Mr. Yan, this…”
The Taoist spoke in a heavy tone, a deep furrow forming between his brows as he stared at the pile of skeletal remains. “All escape routes have been cut off. Even if we want to leave now, it would be near impossible.”
“Isn’t that better?”
Yan Shixun replied lightly, unconcerned. He sneered. “Precisely because there’s no way back, everyone must give their all—fight with your backs against the river, wager even your very soul and future. There’s only one path left: victory. No other choice.”
“A decrepit ghost city already in decline, and it dares to act so arrogantly?”
He gave a cold laugh. “Just as expected of a defeated lackey of Fengdu.”
Ye Li, who had been solemnly staring at the skulls beneath his feet, couldn’t help but soften his expression. A smile crept onto his lips in response to Yan Shixun’s words.
Ye Li: Shixun just praised me~
Standing beside them, the King of Hell turned his head away silently: ……..
…Tsk. Maybe I should just let that little fool out. These two are going to be the death of me.
“This kind of thing was exactly what Northern Yin Fengdu used to do,” he muttered. “It fits its style perfectly.”
When the old Fengdu was mentioned, the smile on Ye Li’s lips vanished. His tone became flat as he said, “The Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor was born alongside Heaven and Earth. He never walked the mortal world. His view of death was purer than that of any ghost or deity. To him, death was simply death—no impurities allowed. Any soul tainted by hatred, unwillingness, or other negative emotions was no longer a good soul.”
“To the former Fengdu, death was a one-way road.”
Ye Li lifted his eyelashes and stared coldly at the skeletal ruins. The skull he was looking at couldn’t help but tremble and slid down the pile of bones, trying its best to avoid the gaze of Fengdu’s master.
“The city collapsed, and none who entered could leave.”
Ye Li said calmly, “This was the manifestation of the Dao that the former Northern Yin Fengdu upheld. After the death of the Emperor, the ruins of the old Fengdu inherited his Dao.”
“I had thought a thousand years would be enough for the Great Dao to dissolve the remnants of old Fengdu. I didn’t expect it to still be clinging to life.”
As a ghost deity, Ye Li could sense the thoughts of other ghostly beings far better than anyone else.
He shared his speculation with Yan Shixun: “Perhaps, it’s not only the old Fengdu that is struggling—it’s the Northern Yin Fengdu itself who wishes to rise again.”
The move to sink into Baizhi Lake as a cover—if not done by someone deeply familiar with the workings of Heaven and the Great Dao—would have been impossible to pull off at this level.
After hundreds and thousands of years of change, how could there be such a coincidence that the old Fengdu was just conveniently submerged by Baizhi Lake?
Moreover, this area was of the most extreme yin nature, making it incredibly conducive to drawing surrounding yin energy into Baizhi Lake. This perfectly masked the ghostly aura leaking from the ruins at the lake’s bottom, making even the Great Dao believe that the yin aura around Baizhi Lake came from the southwest—not from the dying remnants of Fengdu.
Ye Li didn’t believe in coincidences.
Every so-called “coincidence” in the eyes of the world was actually the result of accumulated karma over a lifetime, meticulously arranged by the Great Dao.
People often spoke of being “lucky,” but that moment of fortune was often the result of virtue accumulated in the past, now coming to the rescue, saving a life.
A car crash avoided by a split second on surveillance footage, a decision to take a different path home avoiding a murder scene, or taking one extra step and narrowly avoiding falling debris from above…
The world liked to define these as luck or misfortune.
But to ghost deities, they were merely the workings of accumulated virtue or vice within one’s soul—virtue destroyed the bones of sin, and unnoticed acts of good or evil added up to form final karma.
During the existence of the old Fengdu, the karma of thousands of years of wrongful deaths and evil spirits was ultimately brought to an end in a single battle by Ye Li.
To the King of Hell and the other ghost deities, as well as to mortals, that battle—where a mere human defeated ghostly deities—was called a miracle.
But wasn’t that simply the old Fengdu’s karma coming back to haunt it?
Ye Li wasn’t fighting the old Fengdu alone.
Behind him stood one hundred thousand loyal soldiers who had pledged to follow him unto death, the vengeful spirits of the city’s massacred people, and…
The hatred of all the “evil spirits” thrown into the prisons of old Fengdu over thousands of years.
Every wisp of resentment, every soul that had died unjustly without a chance for revenge, lent their strength to Ye Li. They solemnly entrusted him with their hope for justice and vengeance—this warrior willing to fight for the common people and for what was right.
This power elevated him to a divine pedestal, allowing him to face innate ghost deities without a trace of fear.
Every sip and bite—everything—had its karmic retribution.
All things were impermanent. Only karma was constant.
Old Fengdu should have perished, returned to the earth, and become nourishment for the living. But it defied this natural order and still existed, even stirring up a plague of evil spirits across the southwest…
At this moment, Ye Li saw what the Great Dao had failed to perceive—the karma behind it all. He also saw the future that the Great Dao had foreseen.
Ye Li calmly shifted his gaze toward the King of Hell.
King of Hell: …?
The King of Hell felt a chill run down his spine under Ye Li’s inexplicable stare. He had no idea why Ye Li was looking at him like that.
But because of that, he ended up missing Ye Li’s one and only expression of recognition for him in a thousand years.
Ye Li: Although this man always clings to Shixun and is quite annoying, I have to admit—when it comes to guiding the way, he’s incredibly precise.
With the living Zhang Wubing leading the way, everyone had gone to Baizhi Lake. The turmoil in the southwestern ghost region finally drew attention from all sides.
Then the King of Hell, after breaking the ghost play, led everyone to the lakebed of Baizhi Lake, where they saw the old site of Fengdu.
He even cracked open the gates of old Fengdu with a single hammer blow.
Ye Li: “When you return to the human world, you might consider starting a locksmith business.”
He had originally taken a long stride toward the city’s streets but thought again and added, “Or, according to Shixun’s suggestion, becoming a GPS navigator would also suit you well.”
Ye Li wore a rare look of sincerity. “Among all the people, gods, and ghosts I’ve seen, you are the best fit for this.”
King of Hell: ?
Have you gone mad or have I? A dignified King of Hell, becoming a locksmith??
But nearby, Yan Shixun heard their conversation, rubbed his chin in thought for a moment, and then actually offered a sincere suggestion to the King of Hell: “Although the King of Hell is now Jing Xiaobao, and as a former ghost deity whose divine title was erased by the Great Dao, you clearly can’t be King of Hell anymore… But have you considered becoming the founder of the locksmith or GPS navigation profession?”
Yan Shixun earnestly analyzed it for him: “You see, humans have long worshipped Lord Guan, and his incense has never ceased. Not only that, exorcists who inherited the Bone Substitution Technique also worship Lord Guan—after all, the technique was originally invented to give Lord Guan a proper burial and let him rest in peace.”
“If you became the founding deity of a certain profession, then everyone in that field would worship you in the future. You wouldn’t have to worry about incense offerings anymore.”
“If things go on like this for a few hundred years, and the situation of the Great Dao improves—if the gods no longer need to unify their powers to uphold it—then you really might become an immortal again.”
Yan Shixun said with a smile, “Even if you can’t compare to the King of Hell, you could still become a Lock God or a Navigation God—that should be possible. Just think about how many people use navigation apps nowadays, and how many need locksmiths. That idea actually sounds pretty solid.”
King of Hell: “??? What is wrong with you two? Are you mocking me together as a couple now?”
What even was a “Lock God” supposed to be! No matter what, he was still the King of Hell! Navigation… cough, that was called guiding souls! It was a noble sacrifice for the greater good, nothing more.
Thanks to Yan Shixun and Ye Li’s explanations, everyone began to understand how tense the current situation was.
But before that tension could take hold, the smiles on Yan Shixun and the others’ faces helped ease the mood again.
After all, if Mr. Yan still had a smile on his face, then maybe things hadn’t gotten to the worst point yet.
The rescue team members thought so too—and even laughed along thanks to Yan Shixun’s words.
The King of Hell, who heard all of this clearly, was left with a complicated expression: …Why are all of you laughing? Don’t tell me you seriously want to start bowing to the King of Hell every time you open your navigation app?
Never in his wildest dreams had the King of Hell imagined that in this modern era, where ghost deities were no longer needed, the once-feared ruler of the underworld had fallen so far that he’d have to survive on side gigs.
Life was hard. The King of Hell sighed.
Yan Shixun gave a couple of light chuckles before his expression turned serious again. He turned to Ye Li and told him what he had just seen.
“I saw my master.”
Yan Shixun spoke in a low voice. “It was only for a split second… but I don’t think it was a hallucination.”
Ye Li gave him a firm response. “Illusions don’t exist in a ghost deity’s domain—especially for you, Shixun, since you have the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation. Shixun, ever since you entered the Old Fengdu, haven’t you felt something?”
A shadow passed through Yan Shixun’s eyes.
Yes, he had.
Unlike the discomfort the rescue team members had felt, he had felt completely at ease here. His breathing was smooth and clear, as if he naturally belonged in this place.
The last time he had experienced something similar was in the evil ghost abyss beneath the outskirts highway of Binhai City.
Places filled with malicious spirits that frightened and sickened the living actually made Yan Shixun feel like a fish in water. He could finally fight freely and to his heart’s content.
Ye Li noticed the change in Yan Shixun’s expression and gave a nod. “The living believe that the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation grants someone both yin and yang, allowing them to follow the natural balance of the heavens and earth, and thus gain great power.”
“But in truth, the most terrifying thing about that trait isn’t the balance of yin and yang—it’s that someone with it can move freely through the underworld. Ghostly energy can’t harm them. In fact, they become even stronger in such an environment.”
Ye Li raised his hand, gently taking Yan Shixun’s hand in his own, then guided it to rest against his chest.
Beneath the warm, slender hand, under Ye Li’s slightly cool and thin skin, his heart beat steadily.
Even one as powerful as a ghost deity seemed fragile in this moment.
If Yan Shixun wanted to, he could plunge into Ye Li’s chest and grasp his heart at that very moment.
Yan Shixun looked up in confusion, only to see Ye Li smiling faintly at him.
“Shixun, the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation represents complete balance among the five elements, yin, and yang. In terms of Taoist principles, it is no different from the Great Dao itself. It places you at the one and only convergence point of humans, gods, and ghosts.”
“You can kill any human, god, or ghost.”
“And you can also choose to become one of them—whether human or god—it’s all up to your own will.”
Ye Li slowly lowered his eyelashes. He leaned in closer, until there was barely an inch between them, close enough for them to feel each other’s breath.
“That’s why karma and the Great Dao have guided you here—to the Old Fengdu.”
“The Old Fengdu, which even the Great Dao cannot fully destroy… will be ended by you.”
Just as a thousand years ago, he had killed the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor.
Ye Li stared intently at Yan Shixun, his solemn expression completely sincere.
As Ye Li finished speaking, Yan Shixun’s eyes gradually widened.
Though he had long since accepted the uniqueness of his own constitution, he had never imagined that he would shoulder such a heavy responsibility as Ye Li described.
The Old Fengdu, once the domain of ghost deities, was the direct reason Ye Li had rebelled against heaven and earth and ultimately ascended to become a ghost deity.
Yan Shixun’s heart surged with emotion, his ears growing hot and red. His heart pounded fast and hard like a war drum.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but in the end, only let out a few scattered, broken syllables.
Yan Shixun knew very well that with Ye Li’s personality, he would never joke about something like this. Everything Ye Li said had to be true.
Although the news that he would bear such a tremendous responsibility had come so suddenly, Yan Shixun only appeared briefly dazed before quickly gathering his emotions and regaining his composure.
Only his still-warm cheeks and ears reminded him of what he had just heard.
In all the choices he had made in life, shirking responsibility had never been one of them.
Other than moving forward with unwavering determination and shouldering heavy burdens, there was no second option for him.
Meanwhile, the official who had witnessed everything felt so full he could burp, and even wanted to call his wife.
Official in charge: I was so ignorant. Back when the rescue team rumored that Mr. Yan was already married, I helped clarify the misinformation a few times. Even though I started to have doubts later… but now, this is direct evidence! Ironclad proof!
He even felt a little regretful—if only he hadn’t lost his phone when being chased by vengeful spirits in that deserted village, he could’ve taken a photo right now. Then, when he returned, he could show the abbot at Haiyun Temple just how much he truly cared about Yan Shixun.
As for the Taoist, his face was one of complete shock.
He had always believed that although Taoist Wang might not outright lie, with his occasionally competitive personality, he had likely exaggerated some things just to irritate the other Taoists.
But he never expected that everything Taoist Wang said was actually true!
Now, watching the scene unfold before his eyes, the Taoist felt filled with guilt: Taoist Wang wasn’t wrong to criticize me. I really haven’t cared enough about Fellow Taoist Yan. I didn’t even know he got married… When I get back, I must make up for the wedding gift.
King of Hell turned his back toward Yan Shixun and Ye Li, speaking in his deep, muffled voice, “A simple entrustment to the Great Dao—why did you two make it so… hmm… never mind, go ahead and pour your hearts out. I’ll take my leave first.”
Hearing the King of Hell’s voice, Yan Shixun suddenly snapped back to his senses.
He looked down and realized that Ye Li was still holding his hand, pressed tightly against Ye Li’s chest.
Beneath his palm, the muscular lines were firm and defined, brimming with terrifying explosive power.
Yan Shixun: “……”
He quietly withdrew his hand and calmly lifted his chin toward the people behind him. “Let’s go.”
Pretending nothing had just happened.
A smile spread in Ye Li’s eyes—he knew his big cat had reached his limit of tolerance and couldn’t be pushed any further.
So he let go of Yan Shixun’s hand in kind, and the two of them walked together into the depths of the city.
Since Yan Shixun had mentioned Li Chengyun, and the city wall’s collapse had cut off their escape route, the route he had originally planned in his mind had to be scrapped and restructured.
“But I personally brought back my master’s remains, redressed him in his burial robes, closed his coffin with my own hands, and watched him be buried…”
When speaking of Li Chengyun’s death, even though Yan Shixun tried hard to remain composed, his throat tightened with emotion. It took him a long time to find his voice again: “Someone who should’ve been resting peacefully—why would he appear in the Ghost City of Old Fengdu?”
Ye Li let out a soft sigh. “Within Fengdu, how can there be any living souls?”
Remembering the awe he felt upon seeing Yan Shixun’s soul in Fengdu, Ye Li said, “For thousands of years, you’ve been the only living person to enter Fengdu. Among the sea of wandering spirits, you were so dazzling it was impossible to ignore.”
“Even now, the reason those rescue team members could enter old Fengdu is only because the balance of heaven and earth in the southwest has already flipped. The Ghost Dao now holds sway, and the human realm is in chaos. Everyone had just escaped the ghostly opera, and their souls haven’t yet fully aligned with their bodies.”
Ye Li continued, “If not for these perfect conditions—heaven, earth, and humanity aligning—only you, me, and that idiot over there could’ve entered old Fengdu. An Evil Spirit Bone Transformation—no matter heaven or earth, nothing could stop it.”
King of Hell: …I hope that ‘idiot’ you mentioned isn’t referring to me. It must be that mortal Zhang Wubing, right?
Yan Shixun didn’t notice anyone else’s reaction. The hopeful glint that once sparkled in his eyes as he looked at Ye Li slowly dimmed.
He had still held onto a sliver of hope earlier, thinking perhaps he had been mistaken.
After all, Li Chengyun had sacrificed himself for the Great Dao. In life, he had endured countless hardships. Since he had died, then at the very least, someone who once shouldered such heavy responsibilities deserved a moment of rest and peace.
Yan Shixun didn’t want to believe that even in death, Li Chengyun had to keep thinking about the Great Dao and the living.
Worse yet, that his soul might be disturbed by evil spirits and unable to rest.
The one possibility Yan Shixun found hardest to accept was that Li Chengyun’s soul had not gone on to reincarnation, or perhaps had been erased by the karmic ties of the Great Dao.
But had instead been left behind in old Fengdu, enduring torment and agony with the other malevolent spirits, day and night.
Now, Yan Shixun finally understood why Master Bai and Zheng Shumu had said that his master disappeared not long after leaving Baizhi Lake.
Because Li Chengyun had never really left Baizhi Lake at all.
With his master’s unparalleled talent and foresight, how could he not have calculated the exact location of old Fengdu?
He hadn’t just skimmed the surface—he had gone deep into old Fengdu, the place even ghosts feared to tread.
Perhaps, Hermit Chengyun had come here to seek a slim chance at survival. Or maybe, he had long foreseen the revival of old Fengdu that Ye Li spoke of and chose to stand guard here.
Once the fog lifted, Yan Shixun could clearly see just how far-sighted and extraordinary Hermit Chengyun, once hailed as the paragon of all exorcists, truly was.
Even though he was the man’s only disciple, he couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed.
But Ye Li’s testimony was still enough to sober him back to reason.
Yan Shixun slowly blinked, forcing his chaotic thoughts into order. He let out a bitter smile and shook his head: “My master…”
He had planned so far ahead for the sake of the world.
If it were Yan Shixun himself doing all this, he wouldn’t hesitate for a moment.
But just imagining that Li Chengyun had done all this—and that it might have caused a fragment of his soul to remain trapped in old Fengdu, unable to find peace for so many years—made his heart ache to the point where he could barely breathe.
Compared to letting others bear the burden, Yan Shixun would rather shoulder all the pain himself.
—It was better for him to end everything than to stand by helplessly as others suffered.
“No matter why my master appeared here, I won’t just stand by and watch him suffer in a place like this.”
As he walked, Yan Shixun couldn’t help but think of Li Chengyun when he passed by the tormented evil spirits collapsed on either side of the street, weeping and wailing.
The moment he imagined—even slightly—that Li Chengyun might have suffered like these spirits when he wasn’t looking, his eyes filled with sorrow. Guilt weighed heavily on his heart, and he felt he had never truly been a good disciple.
“I need to find my master and take him away from here.”
Yan Shixun forced himself to keep his voice steady. “Even if all that’s left of my master is a fragment of his soul, incomplete and unable to reincarnate… I will still take him away.”
“This place should never be his final resting place.”
A man who had dedicated his entire life to the welfare of the world and all living beings should not be buried alongside this ghost city of Old Fengdu, doomed to sink into oblivion.
Ye Li nodded and gently took Yan Shixun’s hand, as if to comfort him. “Don’t worry, Shixun.”
For someone who had glimpsed the Great Dao for the sake of all living things and sacrificed himself for it, Old Fengdu was unworthy.
With only a few words exchanged, Yan Shixun and Ye Li had once again settled on a new plan.
The others around them heard the entire conversation, yet no one objected. No one insisted they prioritize the larger situation over searching for Li Chengyun.
Everyone remained silent.
Even the members of the rescue team couldn’t help but sigh in their hearts.
Though they were not Hermit Chengyun himself, their work was not unlike his.
The only difference was that their responsibilities fell within the scope of science, while Hermit Chengyun operated outside of it.
But both were dedicated to saving others. Seeing Hermit Chengyun was like seeing a reflection of themselves—naturally, they felt sorrow at the misfortune of a kindred spirit.
Even though they had never met him and knew little about him.
Knowing that Hermit Chengyun could rest in peace brought them a strange sense of comfort, like glimpsing their own peaceful end while still alive.
In the Taoist’s eyes, too, a flash of grief passed.
In Haiyun Temple, who didn’t know of Hermit Chengyun’s unparalleled brilliance in his prime? And yet now, for the sake of the people, he had been shattered beyond repair…
It was a fate no one wished to see.
Yan Shixun thought his determination to save his master came from a selfish place, but to those around him, both master and disciple had already given too much. Even if they poured all their strength into repaying that debt, it wouldn’t make up for even a fraction of it.
So why would anyone object?
“When I saw my master, something about him seemed… off. Like he didn’t belong in this place at all…”
Yan Shixun tried hard to recall the moment.
But just as he had caught sight of his master, the wall of Old Fengdu had collapsed, the thunderous sound drawing his attention away and sparking concern for the others behind him. He had only managed a quick glance at Li Chengyun before turning around to check if anyone was hurt.
And in that fleeting glimpse, what stood out most in Yan Shixun’s memory was the calm and carefree smile on Li Chengyun’s face.
It was exactly the same as in his memories from many years ago—unchanged in the slightest.
“The ebony statue…”
Yan Shixun hesitated for a moment but then brought up the statue that Ye Li had once abandoned: “Could that statue have been something my master found in Old Fengdu?”
“According to what you’ve told me before, no living person was involved in that battle. Besides the spirits and the Great Dao, there were no other witnesses. The only ones who could’ve seen what you looked like back then were those two groups of ghosts.”
Yan Shixun thought back to the hundred thousand ghost soldiers he had seen earlier and immediately ruled out the possibility that Ye Li’s Fengdu army had leaked the information.
Given the unwavering loyalty those soldiers had shown in life and death, it would’ve been incredibly difficult for anyone to make them betray Ye Li and spread knowledge of his former image.
Moreover, based on what Master Zheng had said, Li Chengyun’s area of activity had always been centered around Baizhi Lake.
Considering all of these factors, Yan Shixun could think of only one remaining possibility.
—A thousand years ago, the ghost official of Old Fengdu had seen the image of the battle general with their own eyes and carved it into memory. That image had eventually spread through Old Fengdu. Li Chengyun had calculated the statue’s location and entered the city to retrieve it, using it to guard against the evil entity beneath Baizhi Lake.
The ghost infant’s power originated from Old Fengdu, and what Old Fengdu feared most was the very general who had once stormed it in fury and slain the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor.
That ebony statue couldn’t have been more fitting for the Baizhi Lake region.
As Yan Shixun pieced together Li Chengyun’s actions from what he now knew, he was stunned by how far in advance his master had anticipated everything.
Every move Li Chengyun had made landed precisely where it needed to. Not a single step had been in error.
Yan Shixun even had reasonable grounds to believe that if not for Li Chengyun, this catastrophe might have already descended several years earlier.
But back then, nothing had been ready. The living weren’t prepared to face a disaster of that magnitude. The ghostly entities in places like Ghost Mountain were still running rampant. Even he himself hadn’t grown enough to withstand what was to come.
Had the calamity struck then—a disaster powerful enough to upend heaven and earth—everything would have spiraled into an irreparable abyss. Even if Ye Li had returned to the mortal realm and tried to reverse the tide, he couldn’t have guaranteed the survival of all living beings.
Countless lives would have been lost in such a catastrophe.
Take just one area like Ghost Mountain—as soon as the malevolent ghosts and shadow deities gained form, the entire surrounding region would have been affected, claiming hundreds of thousands of lives.
And if the Great Dao had completely collapsed, with monsters running rampant and ghosts flooding the world, the death toll would’ve gone far beyond anything countable.
Perhaps, in the end, the Lord of Fengdu would have stepped in out of pity for humanity and attempted to save them.
But even then, the only thing guaranteed to survive would be the general concept of “the living.”
Not the safety of each individual person.
—For every person, there was no such thing as probability or luck. Death, for the individual, was always one hundred percent.
This was what Yan Shixun had in mind, and his steps grew slower and slower, until finally he stopped in the middle of the street.
It was only when he truly understood Li Chengyun’s life that he realized just how extraordinary his master had been—an astonishingly brilliant figure.
Even though he had personally witnessed ten years of Li Chengyun’s journey, he had ultimately missed both the beginning and the end of it, and thus had never seen the full picture.
Until now.
Even now, having grown into his own prime and standing shoulder to shoulder with Taoist Li, he still found himself stunned and awed by the man Li Chengyun was.
Ye Li could see the mess of emotions running through Yan Shixun’s mind.
But he neither offered words of comfort nor urged him to move.
He simply held Yan Shixun’s hand tightly, wanting to tell him that he would always be by his side.
Then he said nothing, just waited quietly, giving Yan Shixun the space to collect himself.
Meanwhile, the Taoist’s attention was drawn to both sides of the street.
The appearance of the old Fengdu had remained unchanged since the death of the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, frozen in a time a thousand years past.
All the buildings lining the streets retained the style of bygone days.
Yet, if one looked closely, they would notice that the beams, pillars, and stone carvings—though seemingly exquisitely crafted—did not feature the usual auspicious motifs of the human world, but rather grotesque images of vicious, malevolent spirits.
Those evil spirits, etched into the wood and stone, snarled and roared with fierce expressions, resembling real and violent ghost officers.
And the “evil ghosts” huddled in the corners of walls and drainage ditches clearly feared those carvings. They dared not come close, only sobbed softly in low tones, terrified of alerting the ghost officers within the engravings and being discovered.
Since the ghost officers had fled, there were no longer any enforcers to torture the evil ghosts in old Fengdu. Instead, the evil spirits themselves, day after day, relived the agonies of their deaths and the hatred they couldn’t let go of. They were consumed by pain, their cries filling the air with no relief in sight.
—Why should murderers be allowed to reincarnate peacefully, while their victims suffered in old Fengdu?
The evil ghosts were unwilling to accept this, yet they could not leave the city.
The prolonged torment had driven many completely insane. They forgot the grudges they held in life and turned their hatred on everything around them.
And old Fengdu merely confirmed their judgment with a cold “just as expected,” believing even more strongly that their initial ruling had been correct: that the ghost had, indeed, turned into a dangerous, harmful evil spirit.
Old Fengdu had never misjudged anyone—it had only been the generals of a thousand years ago who had lost their minds.
The Taoist tilted his head and listened to the mad murmurs, the laughter and crying spilling from the mouths of the evil ghosts. He couldn’t help but feel both amused and saddened, affected by their twisted emotions.
Though the streets and architecture appeared fine on the surface, the evil spirits that wandered among them turned the place into a living hell.
Driven to madness, the evil ghosts bit and tore at each other. They cried out the names of those they once hated, not realizing that a thousand years had passed, and their enemies had already been reborn many times, peacefully reincarnated, having long forgotten what they had done to the victims.
Or perhaps they did remember.
Which only deepened their unwillingness to let go. Their unresolved obsessions, with nowhere to go, finally drove them mad.
The Taoist, who had never experienced what old Fengdu had once been, was rendered speechless after hearing the cries of dozens of ghosts. He had never imagined that Fengdu had once functioned like this.
“That’s why I said—I hate old Fengdu.”
The King of Hell, walking beside the Taoist, spoke in a calm voice.
Although this was also his first time setting foot in old Fengdu, he had long suspected what it would be like, and so he wasn’t surprised.
The King of Hell had once, in the shadow of the living man Zhang Wubing, overheard someone say they longed for the past and wished to return to a thousand years ago.
But he did not wish to go back.
He liked the present.
He liked the Fengdu ruled by Ye Li, and from the bottom of his heart, he believed this was the ideal he had never dared to even imagine.
His mind was clear as a mirror. He knew that the reason the underworld could stand as a counterbalance to Fengdu was because that was what Ye Li desired.
Otherwise, with the vast difference in power between them, if Ye Li had ruled with an iron fist, suppressing every voice of dissent, then even the mere thought of resistance from the King of Hell would have been crushed into dust by Fengdu.
—When Ye Li ascended to rule over the ghost deities, the Great Dao had not intervened. As a result, there had been no agreement between them, and the Great Dao could neither command nor oversee Ye Li or the Fengdu under his control.
In fact, because Ye Li had defeated the former Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, he had forcibly stripped the Great Dao of the authority to judge all souls. This made the present-day Fengdu even more powerful than its former incarnation.
Thus, Ye Li had become the most unique among all ghost deities.
He had ascended to the heavens as a mere mortal.
Even when the Great Dao crumbled and all the gods fell, it could do nothing against Fengdu. Ye Li remained unharmed and ultimately became the only ghost deity left.
The King of Hell had to fight with everything he had from beneath the Great Dao’s shadow, plotting with care just to preserve a fragment of soul and let it escape.
But Ye Li—he was the one the Great Dao had pleaded with, multiple times, to support it.
The vast difference between them had always been clear to the King of Hell.
And it made him all the more aware of just how rare it had been when Ye Li willingly relinquished the authority over death. Had it been any other ghost deity, that would have been impossible.
The King of Hell lowered his gaze slightly, looking at the deranged ghost lying at his feet, mumbling nonsense. He let out a nearly inaudible sigh.
He bent down, his pale, clean hand reaching out to lift the blood-stained, rotting spirit—grotesque and disfigured—and gently helped it to the side.
At the very least, even after death, it shouldn’t be trampled on by other ghosts.
For this spirit, full of hatred, he left behind a shred of dignity.
The Taoist stood silently, watching everything unfold. His throat felt so tight and sore that he couldn’t make a sound.
From birth, he had been raised under the influence of Ye Li, where the concept of death had already shifted. Even Taoists believed in the principle of “a life for a life” and would not force vengeful spirits to give up their revenge.
Now, when confronted with pure, unrelenting death that forbade hatred, he found it hard to accept.
Just looking at these spirits filled his heart with unbearable sorrow.
Who doesn’t die?
Who can guarantee they’ll never face any accident and will live peacefully until a natural death?
Looking at these ghosts, the Taoist suddenly felt like he was looking at himself.
“Can’t we do anything for them?”
His voice was hoarse as he asked the King of Hell, “Can’t I… send it for reincarnation?”
“How would you send it? And where to?”
The King of Hell crouched down slightly, his tall frame folding with ease. His exquisitely embroidered robe spread across the bloodstained ground, yet he showed no trace of disgust.
He gently raised his eyes and asked the Taoist in return, “This soul has already been imprisoned in the old Fengdu. The Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor has already judged it… When have you ever seen two judges from the human realm deliver different verdicts for the same person?”
“Besides—”
The King of Hell hooked a long, slender finger, peeling back the tattered clothing of the ghost to reveal the mangled flesh beneath.
The Taoist frowned in discomfort, but soon his eyes widened in shock.
This… the ghost’s soul was branded all over with the names of its crimes.
Its savage wounds were mostly from this—its flesh was torn, blackened, and rotting, oozing pus. It looked even worse than beggars in a chaotic human world.
“You’ve never heard of the punishment of being roasted on a metal pillar?”
The King of Hell lowered his gaze and spoke softly, “It has already been branded by the old Fengdu. It’s the same as being erased from the Book of Life and Death. Aside from the old Fengdu, no one else can judge it again, because all records of its life and death are in Fengdu’s hands. Anywhere else, it’s as if these things never existed.”
“Even though the Underworld is now running again thanks to Jing Xiaobao, that little ghost can’t judge this one.”
His voice grew so faint it was almost a whisper: “That little ghost, who once lived among humans and still holds a soft heart, how could he ever surpass the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor…”
“So what, are we just supposed to stand here and watch them suffer?”
The Taoist had never realized he could be this bold, even daring to talk back to the King of Hell. Yet he couldn’t help but fight for these spirits.
If the new laws were meant to replace the old, then why should these souls—who were seen as redeemable under the new system—continue to suffer in the old Fengdu?
The Taoist recalled what the King of Hell had said earlier about Fengdu’s past. At this moment, he suddenly understood why Ye Li had stood up a thousand years ago.
Anyone with a heart—how could they bear to watch this?
The King of Hell was silent for a few seconds, then slowly shook his head. “In theory, there’s indeed nothing that can be done.”
The Taoist’s face twisted with disappointment and unwillingness.
“But—”
At that moment, the King of Hell paused, then continued, “If it were Ye Li… it might be possible.”
He slowly straightened up. The bloodstains covering his palms turned to ash and vanished. He lifted his gaze and looked ahead—toward the master of Fengdu, who was walking side by side with Yan Shixun, their closeness clear in their gestures.
Since the old Fengdu had fallen to Ye Li, and the current master of Fengdu held the power to judge souls, allowing him to see everything about their lives—
Then this ghost, who seemed to have already been sentenced to death, could be transferred to the new Fengdu for a fresh judgment.
The condition was—the complete collapse of the old Fengdu, so that it lost all control over these “evil spirits.”
A spark of light rekindled in the King of Hell’s eyes.
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