Chapter 295: Ritual Money, Old Capital (22)
Because the ghost official had already stated before his death that there were three places within Old Fengdu where ghostly energy was particularly dense—and had warned Yan Shixun early on that these areas were likely to become battlegrounds used by Old Fengdu to summon the general—Yan Shixun was not at all surprised that the general would appear here.
What he hadn’t expected, however, was that just as the King of Hell appeared in front of him—before they even had a chance to discuss their prior encounter—the King of Hell had already taken notice of the general’s presence.
Yan Shixun didn’t know the King of Hell well, but he did know Zhang Wubing.
Since that little fool Zhang Wubing was the reincarnation of a fragment of the King of Hell’s soul, then no matter how silly he might be, they were still one and the same. Surely, some trace of the original personality would come through.
And based on what he knew about Zhang Wubing, that guy definitely wasn’t someone who paid attention to trivial matters.
As for the King of Hell, someone who had managed to claw his way out of certain death when the gods had perished—Yan Shixun didn’t believe he was the type to lose sight of priorities or be distracted without reason.
Yan Shixun’s gaze settled on the King of Hell. Even before he could ask the question out loud, a judgment had already formed in his heart.
“So where do you think he should be?”
Yan Shixun raised his brows and asked the King of Hell.
Even though his tone wasn’t loud or forceful, his voice still rang clear across the battlefield.
Whether it was the official in charge nearby or the general in the distance, as long as Yan Shixun was present, he commanded attention. Everyone instinctively turned to him, seeking his advice, wanting to know what he thought.
That was just who Yan Shixun was—someone who didn’t need to raise his voice to be heard.
Those standing near him would instinctively lower theirs, holding their breath and leaning in solemnly to listen.
When the King of Hell turned in surprise to question the general, the general didn’t even glance at him.
His gaze was like a blade steeped in icy frost, locked unwaveringly onto the battlefield below. His eyes tracked the remaining evil spirits that still clung to life. With a single thought, soldiers shrouded in black mist surged forward, spears in hand, ruthlessly skewering the demons.
Blood sprayed.
The King of Hell could only watch it all unfold. Then, half a beat late, realization dawned—he had made a mistake.
…What stood before him wasn’t the ebony statue everyone had been watching earlier.
It was more like that general from a thousand years ago had somehow traversed time and space to once again stand on the battlefield before Old Fengdu, fighting not for glory, but for justice and karma.
But—
“How is this possible…”
The King of Hell muttered softly in disbelief, as if asking himself, “After Ye Li became the new Lord of Fengdu, his mortal form should have vanished. Why would it remain?”
Could it still have something to do with that ebony statue?
The King of Hell knew nothing of the ghost official’s insights, and as such, felt as though a crucial piece was missing from his mental puzzle. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t piece the truth together, and it frustrated him deeply.
“He should logically be in the lowest level of hell. Yan Shixun, before I found you—was he always here?”
The King of Hell asked this to Yan Shixun, but his eyes remained fixed on the general, unwilling to look away.
Yan Shixun couldn’t help but laugh. For the first time, he noticed that the King of Hell seemed to fear the general even more than he feared Ye Li himself.
How strange… whether it was Old Fengdu, the King of Hell, or even the ghost official—any being that had participated in that war a thousand years ago seemed to care more about the general’s presence than Ye Li’s.
It was as if everyone, gods and ghosts alike, had accepted Ye Li’s existence.
But the general—they all feared him.
Was it because he had once defied the will of heaven and the deities and succeeded? Or was there another reason?
A vague thought flickered through Yan Shixun’s mind but vanished just as quickly, leaving only the faintest trace behind.
It was as if the Great Dao itself didn’t want him to know, refusing to let the thought settle in his consciousness.
Yan Shixun furrowed his brows, the smile at the corners of his lips fading.
At first, he had simply found the King of Hell’s preoccupation with the general a bit odd and hadn’t given it much thought—just mentioned it casually because he noticed it.
But now, because of that fleeting strange feeling, Yan Shixun made a point to remember it.
At the same time, he became aware of another question—this one concerning himself.
—Did he notice this because of Ye Li, or was it purely out of concern for the Great Dao and all living beings?
If it was for Ye Li… then what exactly was he worried about?
Ye Li was the only surviving ghost deity in all of existence, the Lord of Fengdu, a general followed with undying loyalty by a hundred thousand ghost soldiers. He was the only one who had ascended to his position by slaying a god while still a mere mortal.
No matter which identity you looked at, Ye Li was not someone who could be easily harmed.
So why, in his heart, was Yan Shixun’s first reaction not to worry about Fengdu or the Dao, but to picture Ye Li’s face—and to fear that the general’s presence might harm him?
Yan Shixun analyzed others, but he also constantly analyzed himself—rational and cold, laying his emotions bare in his mind, refusing to miss any oddity or detail.
Evil often hid in the places the living couldn’t see—in overlooked corners and the edges of vision.
That was the conclusion Yan Shixun had come to after years of exorcising spirits, dealing with all manner of beings from the Three Teachings and Nine Schools, confronting demons and monsters, surviving countless brushes with death—and sometimes even defeating death itself.
The more cautious one was, the more likely one was to survive.
But what Yan Shixun hadn’t expected was that one day, he would put personal emotion before cold logic.
Before thinking about how the general might affect Old Fengdu, his first instinct had been to worry about Ye Li’s safety.
Yan Shixun’s tall frame paused ever so slightly—barely noticeable—before he quickly hid his emotions once more.
The overwhelming emotion that clouded rational thought only lasted for a fleeting moment. Before anyone could notice it, Yan Shixun had decisively suppressed the feeling and forced his attention back to the battlefield before him.
He gazed intently at the general.
The general seemed to sense his gaze as well. Though his returning look remained indifferent, it was no longer as detached as when he had faced the King of Hell—no longer the gaze one would direct at empty air.
This time, Yan Shixun’s figure was clearly reflected in the general’s eyes.
“He was drawn here by the old Fengdu,”
Given the urgency of the current situation, Yan Shixun temporarily set aside his unspoken concern for Ye Li and briefly but clearly explained what had happened to the King of Hell.
Upon learning the entire backstory of the ebony statue, not only were the surrounding bystanders—such as the official in charge—completely taken aback, even the King of Hell had never imagined such a twist of fate.
“This really is… who would’ve thought such a cause and effect existed?”
The King of Hell furrowed his brows slightly, clearly displeased. “That ghost official died far too quickly. Tsk. If I’d just arrived a bit earlier… I’d have liked to do something myself.”
He knew perfectly well that since Ye Li had once saved the ancestor of the Bai family after ascending to the status of a ghost deity, then everything that followed—whether it was the ghost official surviving because of that ancestor, the imprinting of the general’s obsession into the ebony statue allowing it to endure through the ages, or even the eventual annihilation of the Bai village established through gifts from the ghost official and the ancestor—all of it was merely the cycle of cause and effect.
Still, he found it hard to accept the reality of the general’s reappearance.
Others might not understand, but the King of Hell—who stood closest to death and thus had a deeper grasp of cause, effect, and the Great Dao—understood all too well what the general represented.
To the order of heaven and the Great Dao, the general was no longer merely a life or a soul.
He had become a symbol.
In the millennia before Ye Li had ever existed, the King of Hell had personally witnessed Fengdu’s workings and the ever-accumulating weight of karmic retribution.
Though he was not the Dao itself and could not see far into the future, the King of Hell possessed a unique sensitivity to death.
Given the current circumstances, he could reasonably predict the coming developments. He had a vague awareness that all this accumulated karma would eventually grow too heavy for the Great Dao to sustain. When that day came, it would collapse entirely.
The King of Hell worried deeply but could only intervene within his own jurisdiction. He tried to alter the course where he could—seizing newly dead spirits from the grasp of the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, guiding the still-confused souls to the underworld instead of Fengdu, and giving them the chance to reincarnate through his own judgments.
Even if the spirits could not exact vengeance or let go of their obsessions, at the very least, they would not become part of the ever-mounting karmic burden on the world and the Dao.
His actions were cautious and hidden. No one could discern his true intentions.
Until the battle at Ye City—until the slaughter, the arson, the bodies strewn across the land.
The sheer scale of death and the overwhelming resentment and fury had not only drawn his attention, but also that of the Northern Yin Fengdu.
The King of Hell rushed as fast as he could, but he was still a step too late. He failed to guide the fallen soldiers and slaughtered civilians into the underworld.
—Those hundred thousand soldiers and the civilians killed in the massacre did not want reincarnation.
They wanted justice.
Fengdu would not give it to them. But the general would.
The moment the King of Hell heard the general’s wrathful questioning, he had already realized: the general might very well shatter the structure that had stood for thousands of years and transform the world—even the Dao itself.
And later, that prediction came true.
With the general’s rebellion as the turning point, the framework of death was rewritten, and the world was reset.
Ye Li’s rise to the status of ghost deity held extraordinary significance for the universe.
He was the only one to have defeated the Great Dao while still mortal.
This made him the most exceptional among the gods. Even when the Dao began to crumble, Ye Li remained unaffected.
But now, the general who had once overturned heaven and the Dao had returned to the battlefield of the old Fengdu.
The King of Hell looked at the general’s cold, sharp figure atop the mountain of corpses and felt as though he had brushed the edge of the Dao. He realized that if the “coincidences” surrounding the ebony statue had allowed it to be passed down through generations—if they had brought the general back to life—then perhaps this had been a game of chess between the Great Dao and Ye Li all along.
Through this game, the Dao might be attempting to wipe the slate clean.
To begin again.
If that were the case, then the general’s reappearance here might very well signal the arrival of a new beginning.
Though the King of Hell stood among the others, he felt as though he were separate from them—as though he stood once more beside the Dao itself. He lowered his head, gazing upon the catastrophe at Baizhi Lake, and silently awaited the moment when the evil reached its peak… only to be completely purged in a single strike.
It was Yan Shixun’s voice that pulled him back from his drifting thoughts.
“Old Fengdu drawing him here does help us, actually. Otherwise, it would’ve been nearly impossible to find the ebony statue’s exact location—especially when it vanished right before the eyes of every deity and Taoist at Haiyun Temple.”
“But just now—you mentioned Ye Li?”
Yan Shixun pressed. “Did you see where he is?”
“No,”
The King of Hell blinked and steadied his thoughts again, recounting everything he had seen before reuniting with Yan Shixun.
Yan Shixun hadn’t expected Ye Li to fall into the lowest level of hell. Originally, when he had entered the lower layers of hell, he had tied his karma together to Li Chengyun to avoid such an outcome. Yet, unexpectedly, only he himself had managed to find the ghost official connected to Li Chengyun, while everyone else had ended up in the wrong place.
Especially Ye Li…
Yan Shixun still remembered what the ghost official had said: the lowest level of hell was essentially the core of power for the entire Old Fengdu.
Whether that place was accidentally caught up in battle or intentionally destroyed, it was undoubtedly disastrous for Old Fengdu.
Old Fengdu had gone to great lengths to lure the general here, hoping to draw him away from the core of the lowest hell. But they had never imagined that in doing so, they had let Ye Li slip through, placing the truly terrifying one right behind their lines.
For a moment, Yan Shixun was stunned. But once he understood everything, he couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.
He no longer worried about Ye Li. Instead, he genuinely mourned for Old Fengdu.
Yan Shixun: The unluckiest person I’ve ever met is that dumb idiot Zhang Wubing. But even he can’t compete with Old Fengdu… What you fear the most always comes true. Pfft.
While everyone else was anxious for one reason or another, Yan Shixun alone was in good spirits—he even had the leisure to watch the general.
Although Yan Shixun saw himself as just an ordinary living person, in the eyes of the countless evil spirits in this level of hell, he was far from it.
These two gods of slaughter had practically torn through the entire layer of hell, scattering countless evil spirits into oblivion.
Especially Yan Shixun—a living soul who actually had the power to shake hell itself.
The scene of him swinging a pale skeletal bone like a greatsword had been witnessed by countless evil spirits and etched into their very souls as a nightmare. They feared this terrifying being beyond comprehension and avoided him at all costs.
The evil spirits who had originally charged at Yan Shixun with crazed frenzy immediately came to their senses and began frantically pushing backward, reversing course in a mad dash to put as much distance as possible between themselves and Yan Shixun.
However, the hundred thousand ghost soldiers they turned their attention to next were clearly not to be trifled with either.
The soldiers, cloaked in swirling black mist, sat valiantly atop their spectral warhorses, slashing down at the evil spirits without hesitation. Each swing of their blades left nothing behind but scattered remains.
The remaining evil spirits, watching helplessly as their kind were cut down, were instantly scared witless.
Their survival instincts overrode Old Fengdu’s control, driving them to flee as far as they could. They threw themselves into a distant mountain of corpses, pretending to be motionless decayed bodies in hopes of escaping the ghost soldiers’ pursuit.
Yet while the general allowed himself a rare moment to glance at Yan Shixun, he still had a full grasp of the battlefield.
A thousand years ago, the general might have known little of ghost deities, but when it came to the battlefield, he was a master of all.
When he stepped onto the field, it was like a dragon entering the sea—unbeatable, unstoppable.
For these evil spirits—greedy for the flesh and blood of living souls or burdened with sins—the general showed no mercy. With just a thought, the hundred thousand ghost soldiers received the order and immediately scattered across the field to purge all the evil spirits that had attacked under Old Fengdu’s control.
Yan Shixun witnessed the scene, but the continuous wails and cries for mercy from the evil spirits didn’t affect him in the slightest. Instead, he raised an intrigued eyebrow and paused beside the general, stopping to appreciate what would soon become an overwhelming victory.
He had seen the hundred thousand ghost soldiers that followed Ye Li before, which made him immediately realize the soldiers in front of him were not quite the same as those in his memory.
Though they were the same soldiers, something essential had changed between them.
If he had to put it into words—it was anger.
The soldiers now hunting ghosts across the battlefield were like blood-soaked, dulled blades, exuding murderous aura fresh from the battlefield, carrying a rage that refused to fade from their chests.
They fought with reckless sharpness, caring nothing for whether their souls could endure. All they wanted was to follow their general and seek justice for the lives that had been massacred.
Even if it meant tearing a hole through the heavens and earth—they would do it without hesitation.
But when Yan Shixun had first seen the hundred thousand ghost soldiers on the outskirts of Binhai City, the impression those valiant souls left on him had been one of majesty.
They were a force refined by a thousand years, mature and composed, elite troops who followed the Lord of Fengdu and fiercely guarded the order of life and death between Yin and Yang.
In that sense, they actually resembled Ye Li himself.
Thinking of this, a smile curled at Yan Shixun’s lips.
When he turned to look at the general beside him, his eyes no longer held the initial wariness or guardedness.
The general was not someone who showed mercy to gods, men, or ghosts. He judged solely by karma and sin.
Anyone guilty—be it even the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor—would be met with the same cold swing of his blade.
Yet when Yan Shixun walked up to him, the general saw him and said nothing. He even silently allowed Yan Shixun to remain at his side.
The distance between them wasn’t just close for strangers who should have been on guard—it was even beyond what would be acceptable for mere acquaintances. For casual nodding terms, they were standing far too close.
The general, hidden under heavy armor, stiffened ever so slightly, as if not used to others being near. But he couldn’t bring himself to drive away this unusual exorcist either. All he could do was silently wage an internal war within his heart.
Yan Shixun, however, didn’t notice the issue with their proximity.
Because Ye Li would seize every opportunity to draw close to him, finding all sorts of excuses to stay by his side, Yan Shixun had long grown used to Ye Li standing near him. He had even grown accustomed to the decreasing space between them.
Back at the old courtyard in the old district of Binhai City, Ye Li had gone from claiming he had no money to rent a room and thus moved in, to the point where the two of them now shared the same room.
Ye Li had even righteously blamed it on Jing Xiaobao, saying it was his fault. Since Jing Xiaobao and Zhang Wubing always stayed over, and they often brought along Lu Xingxing too, the rooms in the courtyard were tight. So naturally, he and Yan Shixun had to share.
At first, Yan Shixun didn’t think much of it. He figured dorm rooms in university were the same, so it wasn’t a big deal. After a bit of thought, he agreed.
By the time he sensed something wasn’t quite right, it was already too late. If he told Ye Li to move to another room at that point, it would’ve felt too deliberate, as if he himself were guilty of something.
As time went on, Yan Shixun gradually came to accept this mode of interaction.
When he noticed the connection between the general and Ye Li—especially after personally witnessing both their similarities and differences—he naturally extended part of his trust in Ye Li to the general as well.
More importantly, they now shared the same goal.
Yan Shixun lifted his eyes to look at the general beside him. “I don’t know who you are, but I am very familiar with your future—as the Lord of Fengdu a thousand years from now.”
“If it were Ye Li, I don’t believe he wouldn’t have seen through the scheme of the old Fengdu—deliberately luring him to this level of hell to divert him from the true core by placing him on the wrong battlefield.”
Upon hearing this, the slight smile that had unconsciously formed on the general’s lips gradually faded, his expression returning to its usual sternness.
Yan Shixun wasn’t in a hurry. He simply smiled calmly and waited quietly for the general’s response.
Across the endless expanse of the mass grave, the wailing pleas and terrified screams of evil spirits echoed without end. But soon after came the sounds of flesh being torn apart and weapons clashing.
These sounds made the rescue team members instinctively lower their voices. While exchanging information and coordinating, they also remained on alert—wary that the frenzy might spill over and the frenzied underworld soldiers might turn on them.
From the team’s perspective, these were still ghosts.
Though there were good ones, in his line of work he had encountered far more malicious spirits who harmed people. He didn’t want to gamble his teammates’ lives on probability, so he naturally kept his guard up against all ghosts.
The King of Hell sensed the emotional shift in those around him.
He lifted his lashes slightly, his indifferent gaze sweeping over the soldiers before calmly withdrawing. “Don’t worry. As long as you’ve done no evil, they won’t do anything to you.”
“They’re a bunch of stubborn mules obsessed with cause and effect. Back then, no one could talk them out of anything… just like their commander.”
The King of Hell let out a quiet scoff, his voice gradually fading.
Compared to the terrifying, battle-hardened underworld army marching through the mass grave like something worse than evil spirits, the rescue team members clearly placed more faith in the King of Hell—who had just saved them.
Besides, it was obvious the King of Hell held some fear or regard for Yan Shixun, which further reassured those who trusted Yan Shixun.
One force always balances another.
With Mr. Yan around, they no longer needed to fear being harmed by these spirits.
“Sorry, the ghostly wails were too loud just now—I didn’t catch that. What did you say?”
One of the team members offered an apologetic smile, feeling like he was almost getting used to the constant screams of torment ringing in his ears.
But the King of Hell merely shook his head lightly.
He stood where he was, folding his sleeves. When his gaze dropped gently, he resembled a refined scholar from the past—graceful and elegant, tall and poised, with not a trace of the savagery one might expect from a ruler of hell.
But everyone present knew very well what kind of fearsome being he truly was. With a flick of his folding fan, he could decide the fate of countless ghosts.
Yet it was such a terrifying figure who now looked upon the underworld soldiers with eyes full of sorrow and nostalgia.
As if he had returned to the battlefield from a thousand years ago.
The King of Hell had lived for thousands of years, but had only ever met one person whose obsession was so deeply rooted.
So deep… that it could shift the entire structure of death, forcing the Great Dao to revolve around him and laying out a game of strategy that would span over a millennium.
Upon seeing the souls of the soldiers again, the King of Hell suddenly realized—they were exactly the same as he remembered them from before.
It was as though the thousand years had never passed, and time had frozen on that very battlefield.
Even the general himself looked exactly like the one he had seen in the past.
Especially when Yan Shixun brought up that ghost official who had narrowly escaped death, the King of Hell’s heart surged with shock and turmoil.
If it had been him, he asked himself honestly—would he have allowed a ghost official who knew the whole truth to escape, thereby risking the exposure and sabotage of his entire plan?
After all, that ghost official had seen the general’s final moment as a mortal and had even carved that moment’s critical power into an image, giving rise to the statue that was passed down.
Ye Li didn’t know, but the general—who had pursued the escaping ghost official of old Fengdu on that stormy night a thousand years ago—knew, and had seen the ghost official himself.
And yet, he had let the ghost official go, allowing him to live another thousand years.
The King of Hell could understand the general’s reasoning.
Because the ghost official had committed no further sins, and the karma he had once accumulated had already been repaid—through his own actions of protecting the Bai family village and the Southwest. With cause and effect settled, there was no longer a reason to strike him down.
But when the King of Hell truly put himself in that position, he still came to one conclusion.
If it had been him… he was sorry, but he wouldn’t have let anyone—human, god, or ghost—who could potentially affect his plans leave alive.
That was his responsibility as the King of Hell, the ruler of death and reincarnation.
No one, including himself, could escape that logic. Everything had to make way for the greater plan.
Upon recognizing his own thoughts, the King of Hell also came to understand the general’s terrifying level of rationality and mastery over the grand scheme—beyond just obsession.
The general had spared the ghost official not out of kindness or compassion.
But because he had absolute confidence in his own strength—believing that no matter what choice he made, he could bear the consequences.
No matter what happened…
The general would be able to reverse the tide and change the outcome.
And in that moment, the King of Hell felt as if he finally understood why the Great Dao had chosen Ye Li.
…For this game, aside from Ye Li, no one else was qualified to sit opposite the Great Dao as an equal.
Not only because of Ye Li’s strength—but also due to a sense of near-cold impartiality that so closely resembled the Dao itself.
Even putting aside his identity as the future Lord of Fengdu, Ye Li was still the most suitable person to shoulder the burden of the Dao.
The King of Hell’s lips were pressed so tightly they turned pale. The faint smile that usually lingered at the corners of his mouth had completely disappeared.
He looked at the general with a serious and solemn gaze, as if—after the battle of a thousand years ago—he was finally seeing Ye Li for who he truly was.
The ebony statue, which contained both the general’s power and his true form, had only ever appeared twice in the current world since the beginning.
Once, a thousand years ago on a stormy night, all the evil ghost officials of the old Fengdu were eradicated, restoring a millennium of peace to the southwest.
And now, once again, the Ghost Dao was about to rise. The general had appeared, arriving to stop it.
Even before this current moment, though the general’s true form had not yet revealed itself, the ebony statue had stood guard over the evil forces of Baizhi Lake. Because of that, neither the ghost infant nor the remnants of old Fengdu had been able to break free. That gave Yan Shixun enough time to grow.
When Yan Shixun finally became powerful enough to face any crisis or hardship, the ebony statue, due to an “accident,” could no longer hold its position over Baizhi Lake. And the general—finally—reappeared.
…To stand beside Yan Shixun and face the Ghost Dao together.
The King of Hell gazed at the two figures standing side by side in the distance. His thoughts surged like the ocean beneath a howling storm, waves crashing violently against the shore.
Since the fall of the gods a hundred years ago, he had never truly trusted the Great Dao again. But now, he was finally beginning to understand everything the Great Dao had done.
Every step he once couldn’t comprehend—every move that had even filled him with worry—had in fact been carefully laid groundwork, all for the sake of a truly stable future.
The King of Hell stood silently for a long time, only slowly pulling himself back from the turbulent sea of thoughts.
He steadied his breath, let out a quiet laugh, and gently shook his head. In that moment, he understood the Great Dao—and lowered his guard.
He also saw clearly the difference between himself and Ye Li.
“I really… used to worry that Yan Shixun wouldn’t be able to handle someone as savage as Ye Li.”
The King of Hell chuckled while looking at the two figures in the distance. Though he was complaining, his tone was relaxed: “Looks like I was overthinking it.”
“If the exorcists of the mortal world back then had even one ten-thousandth of what Yan Shixun has, perhaps things would have turned out differently. Perhaps Ye Li wouldn’t have come to despise mortal exorcists so much.”
A thousand years ago, when he intercepted the ten-thousand-strong army charging ahead, the only thing the great masters did was scold the general in anger. That master claimed to act for the sake of all living beings under heaven, yet all he did was question why the general refused to accept fate. Why did he have to resist? Wouldn’t it have been better to just obediently go along?
At that time, the King of Hell had arrived one step too late. He watched as the mortal exorcists not only failed to calm the general’s rage but also refused to accept his plea—to help the innocent souls of a slaughtered city reincarnate. Instead, they poured oil on the flames, further fueling his fury and firming his resolve to rebel against heaven and earth.
Later, when those well-respected and renowned sects joined forces and declared they would eliminate the general, the King of Hell, in a fit of rage, smashed his seal in the underworld and stormed into those sects at midnight. He destroyed the statues and altars they used to worship their exorcist gods. Those exorcists, who had been full of arrogance just moments before, fell to their knees in terror, afraid that the underworld would take them away.
But the King of Hell knew full well that it was already too late. No matter what he did now, it wouldn’t change a thing.
Looking back now, whether it was the general from a thousand years ago or the Ye Li of today—Yan Shixun handled both situations well.
The Evil Spirit Bone Transformation…
A smile once again curved at the corner of the King of Hell’s lips. He turned to the official in charge and said, “You’ve found a treasure.”
The official was stunned at first but quickly realized the King of Hell was referring to Yan Shixun. He burst out laughing: “Then I must thank you, Director Zhang—no, King of Hell. If you hadn’t launched this variety show, I wouldn’t have encountered Mr. Yan.”
“But looking at it now, Mr. Yan was truly accurate in what he said.”
The official in charge nodded in satisfaction. “So ‘navigation’ doesn’t just mean guiding the way—it also means guiding people, huh?”
“King of Hell, once we return to Binhai City, would you be interested in working with our special department?”
The King of Hell: “…………”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “No thanks. I feel like there’s a hidden meaning in your words. Besides, that little fool wants to be a director, not a navigator.”
The official waved his hand dismissively. “Same thing—doesn’t conflict!”
The King of Hell: …Did I just accidentally trap that little fool?
Meanwhile, Yan Shixun also noticed the rescue team members who had been startled by the ghost soldiers. Though they were some distance away, he could roughly make out their expressions and understood what they were thinking. He knew what they were afraid of.
He smiled lightly in understanding and didn’t feel there was anything wrong with their reaction. Staying alert was a good thing.
Still, he took a long stride forward, planning to approach the team and clear up any misunderstandings.
Among teammates walking side by side, once a misunderstanding formed, it was best to resolve it right away—nip it in the bud before it had a chance to grow.
Otherwise, it would only lead to disaster.
Just as Yan Shixun was about to move, a hand covered in battle armor suddenly appeared in his peripheral vision, gleaming with a cold light.
Then he noticed—his arm was being held by someone.
He raised his brows in surprise and turned to look. The general was silently standing beside him, gazing at him intently. Yet the grip on his arm was astonishingly gentle.
The war general had even retracted much of his armor, as if he had tucked away his claws and was now softly resting his padded paw on a human’s arm—like a careful cat.
Yan Shixun felt a strange tug in his heart, collapsing instantly into a mess.
“What is it?”
Yan Shixun chuckled helplessly. “Just realizing now that you were tricked by the old Fengdu?”
The general didn’t respond immediately. He stared at Yan Shixun for a long time.
His stern face was so sharp it was almost impossible to look directly at. But to Yan Shixun, it was a face he had already grown completely familiar with.
Yan Shixun even started to wonder—could the general be… shy? Struggling to find the right words?
The moment that ridiculous thought crossed his mind, he laughed and shook his head, tossing it aside.
Then, the general finally spoke.
But instead of answering Yan Shixun’s question, he asked an unrelated one.
“You… Yan Shixun, why aren’t you afraid?”
It seemed that he hadn’t spoken in a long time. The general’s deep voice was slightly hoarse, yet it added a touch of resonance, like a wine not fully aged and mellowed — still sharp, burning enough to flush one’s cheeks.
Yan Shixun blinked, only then realizing what the general truly wanted to ask.
— Those scenes of the ghost soldiers slaughtering evil spirits.
“Because I believe you’re not someone who would strike at spirits without reason. Even with evil spirits, you would first discern their crimes and karmic cause and effect before delivering the most fitting judgment.”
As Yan Shixun spoke, his expression turned especially serious. “The Ye Li I know is precisely such a person. And you and Ye Li are one and the same — just different manifestations of the same being, one human and one divine. That’s why I’m willing to place my trust in you.”
The general slowly released his long fingers from Yan Shixun’s arm. He gazed at the face so close to his own, even his breathing subconsciously softening, and for the first time, a trace of astonishment diffused through his normally calm eyes.
It felt as if, the moment Yan Shixun spoke of trusting him, all the souls and the endless rotting corpses of the battlefield had vanished entirely.
In his eyes, only Yan Shixun remained.
Different from every exorcist he had ever known — yet perfectly aligned with the kind of exorcist he had once imagined should exist.
This was… a human exorcist.
Radiant, dazzling, an incomparably rare and priceless treasure.
The general’s spirit trembled, though his cold face remained stoic. His habit of restraining emotion left others unable to read his thoughts.
Yan Shixun didn’t think much of it. He simply smiled and raised his hand, pointing into the distance where the ten thousand ghost soldiers were almost done clearing out the evil spirits.
“Looks like they’re about to finish too.”
Yan Shixun: Isn’t it normal for me to think this way? After all, when Ye Li became the ruler of Fengdu, he extracted the authority of judgment—originally not meant for Fengdu—from the Great Dao itself, becoming a ghost deity in charge of death and judgment.
If even the Great Dao could make such a choice, isn’t it precisely because of Ye Li’s cold fairness and impartiality, which matched the nature of the Dao?
But clearly, Yan Shixun and the general weren’t on the same wavelength.
What Yan Shixun saw as perfectly logical words shook the general to his core, overturning everything he thought he knew about the human world.
While Yan Shixun turned his gaze toward the distant ghost soldiers, the general kept his eyes fixed on him.
As if he were staring at a jewel fallen into the shadows of a battlefield, its light undimmed.
So brilliant it was impossible to look away.
“You think… I was deceived by something merely clinging to life?”
The general asked Yan Shixun quietly.
Yan Shixun immediately sensed something was off. His mind raced, and then his eyes widened as he turned back to look at the general. “Don’t tell me…”
“As you said, the Lord of Fengdu you knew and I — though different in form — are one and the same.”
The general’s tone was flat, but what he said was a truth Yan Shixun had never guessed: “That lingering evil lured me here. I simply went along with it, drawing its attention, which caused a break in its rear defenses.”
“The Lord of Fengdu was thus able to advance.”
Seeing Yan Shixun’s stunned reaction, a rare smile tugged at the corner of the general’s lips.
His cold features suddenly gained warmth.
In his shock, Yan Shixun murmured, “A coordinated effort…”
The general naturally completed the thought: “All’s fair in war.”
Now that all the ghosts controlled by the old Fengdu had been slaughtered by the ten thousand ghost soldiers, the old Fengdu’s strength had suffered a significant blow — at least for now.
And in such a moment—
*Clang!*
A clear, resonant metallic sound rang out, echoing across the battlefield.
The general’s hand gripped the sword at his waist and slowly drew it, pointing it forward.
The blade gleamed bright as snow, sharp beyond compare.
Like a rallying cry before battle, it immediately drew the gaze of every soldier.
In the next moment, the soldiers swiftly fell into formation. Warhorses neighed and charged, filled with deadly intent, their momentum shaking the ground.
Everyone who saw this scene stood frozen in place, stunned.
“Are they filming a movie…”
One team member murmured blankly, “Or am I dreaming?”
The first to realize what the general intended to do were Yan Shixun and the King of Hell.
A coordinated effort naturally meant one would reduce the enemy’s strength while the other would seize the opportunity to strike at the core.
Since their forces had split, once their tasks were complete, they were meant to regroup.
Which meant that the place they were headed to now—
Was the deepest layer of hell.
The very heart of the old Fengdu.
The King of Hell frowned and stepped forward. “Even though the old Fengdu is in decline, it is still the domain of a ghost deity who once held authority over death. Its remaining power should not be underestimated. Reaching the bottommost layer of hell is already difficult enough — full of obstacles — and you’ll undoubtedly face the old Fengdu’s retaliation and resistance. Perhaps it would be better to…”
He hadn’t even finished his sentence about warning the general to act cautiously when he suddenly realized—the general was still holding his long sword high in the air.
Then, he brought it down with force.
The long sword, infused with overwhelming power, tore through the air with a sharp, explosive sound. A fierce wind howled, lifting sand and stones into the air. Decayed corpses were torn apart, and bloody flesh scattered in all directions, forcing everyone to shut their eyes.
“Boom—!”
That sword strike, poured with all of the general’s strength and unwavering will, plunged deep into the earth with a thunderous crash, deafening to the ear.
Even the stormy sky above trembled. The rolling black clouds surged like the open mouth of a furious ghost, pressing down low as if trying to stop what the general intended to do.
But it was already too late.
From the point where the general’s sword struck, massive cracks spread out rapidly like deep ravines, expanding in all directions as far as the eye could see.
The ground split apart. Chunks of earth and stone tumbled down, revealing a bloody abyss below. Dense ghostly energy shot up into the sky, screeching and howling as if it had taken form.
The mass graveyard shook as if in a violent earthquake, and soon, everything there began sliding into the vast cracks in the earth. One by one, rotting corpses and evil spirits fell into the abyss.
They were swiftly swallowed by darkness, never to be seen again.
The Taoist, who had remained by the group’s side the entire time to protect them, watched it all unfold in stunned silence. He felt as if his very soul had been shaken, his mind going blank, unable to think of any way to shield the others from this catastrophic collapse.
“Come to me.”
Just then, as everyone stood frozen in panic, a calm voice rang out—it was the King of Hell.
The wild wind whipped his long robes into a frenzy, sounding like war flags flapping violently. But he stood tall and unmoved, his feet firmly planted, unaffected by the quaking ground.
His hair flew wildly around his temples, momentarily obscuring his view of the general.
Still, his gaze remained as resolute as ever—filled with unwavering determination and confidence that no matter the situation, he could protect the lives behind him.
The general, after delivering that all-out strike, slowly straightened. His tall, strong figure resembled an unshakable mountain—silent yet immensely powerful.
Amidst the howling wind and flying debris, the general and the King of Hell exchanged a long look from afar, then looked away.
At that moment, Yan Shixun’s voice pierced through the roaring wind, shouting: “Zhang Wubing! Protect them!”
The King of Hell’s lips curved in a calm, confident smile. “Don’t worry,”
“I’m not… that foolish brat anymore.”
After hearing those words, everyone instinctively gathered around the King of Hell.
With a crisp “swish!”, the folding fan he had been holding but never opened finally unfurled with a snap. His fair fingers deftly controlled the fan as if it were a flexible sword.
The fan bore an intricate painting of the Nine Provinces, the Heavenly Stems and Earthly Branches, and the sun, moon, and stars—all revolving within. Light flickered on the map like the shifting between life and death.
The King of Hell let out a soft chuckle and held the fan protectively before his chest.
In that instant, everyone felt a shift beneath their feet.
The earth continued to shake and crack apart.
But the patch of ground beneath them alone had become firm again, no longer splitting or falling. Even the wind and stones, upon reaching the King of Hell, seemed to hit an invisible barrier. They diverted around him, parting on either side.
Beside him, he had created the only safe island in this apocalyptic tempest.
And everyone protected within his shield remained completely unharmed.
The Taoist was so shocked he was nearly speechless. It took a long moment before he found his voice, and even then, his spirit still trembled.
So this was what it meant to be a cultivator… to truly possess the power to move mountains, shift seas, and alter the heavens and earth. The ancient notes left by their forebears—so many had doubted them—were real. Not one word had been exaggerated!
In that moment, the Taoist felt as though a vast, new world had opened before his eyes. He had stepped onto the path that led straight to the blue skies above, and it felt like he could now reach out and touch the mysteries of the cosmos.
The path he had been stuck on for so long, blocked at every turn, had been broken open—thanks to this war of ghosts and deities.
Meanwhile, Yan Shixun, seeing that the King of Hell had successfully protected everyone, relaxed and allowed a smile to reach his eyes.
He had raised this “cub” for so long, and finally, at the crucial moment, it had proven reliable.
He’d never expected Xiao Bing would one day be someone he could count on.
The general turned his gaze amidst the howling winds, glancing sideways at Yan Shixun.
Even in the intense, unseen battle against the old Fengdu, he had kept a small portion of his attention on Yan Shixun, watching over his condition.
Though he knew anyone chosen by the Great Dao to enter the old Fengdu as an exorcist must be capable of defending themselves…
That didn’t stop him from caring about Yan Shixun—not wanting any harm to come to him.
The general reached out. Though his arm was encased in hardened armor, he softened the motion as much as possible, wrapping it gently around Yan Shixun’s slim waist and pulling him close.
Caught off guard, Yan Shixun looked momentarily startled. But then, realizing the general’s intent, he relaxed his tensed muscles. His hand naturally settled on the general’s armored arm.
“That strike of yours, you actually shattered through all nine levels of the old Fengdu’s hell.”
Yan Shixun chuckled softly. Amid the roaring winds, he leaned toward the general’s ear and whispered with a grin: “Madman.”
Truly insane. Who else would act in such a reckless, illogical way?
Instead of following the old Fengdu’s carefully laid path to descend through hell, he had completely ignored it. No matter what traps had been laid, none of them had worked.
With overwhelming force, he had crushed everything in his path—one sword stroke breaking through the entire old Fengdu, allowing them to plunge straight into the deepest level of hell.
It was madness—but exhilaratingly wild and efficient. So stunningly effective…
And it matched his taste perfectly.
Yan Shixun’s low laughter shook his chest, and through their close contact, the vibration passed into the general’s body. The general’s hand trembled slightly, moved by that infectious joy. His eyes curved into a smile as he, too, began to laugh.
Yan Shixun’s laughter grew louder and freer, echoing through the storm like a song.
“Old Fengdu!”
He looked up at the sky, eyes still sparkling with laughter—laced now with deep, biting mockery.
“I told you, I would kill you.”
His grin widened. “And now… I’m here.”
“RUMBLE—!!”
The ground fully collapsed, crumbling into the abyss below.
Warhorses reared and neighed. The hundred thousand ghost soldiers glowed with eerie green light, stepping onto falling chunks of earth as they charged into the abyss, following their commander without hesitation.
At the head, the general held his sword in one hand, Yan Shixun in the other, and leapt into the abyss first.
The wind screamed around them as they fell.
Yan Shixun’s hair flew around wildly, brushing across the general’s cold, sharp features. As he turned to look, he saw starlight glittering in Yan Shixun’s eyes—like a shattered cosmos falling into a lake, luminous and breathtaking.
The general paused, momentarily stunned by that handsome face so close to his.
Then, he noticed the wild, confident smile on Yan Shixun’s lips.
The general lowered his gaze, smiling faintly.
Even the snow-covered mountain, frozen for a thousand years, seemed to melt into the trickling streams of spring, gently flowing down.
“Aaaaahhhhhh! Moooooooom!!!”
“This is the craziest drop ride I’ve ever been on in my entire life!!”
The desperate screams of the team members echoed through the abyss, mingling with the sound of Yan Shixun’s unrestrained laughter.
The wind tossed and scattered the general’s gaze as he looked toward Yan Shixun.
But he remembered it clearly—when Yan Shixun had laughed beside his ear and called him a madman, it had sent a jolt straight through his heart.
Yan Shixun…
If you love what Ciacia is doing, then consider showing your support by supporting a cup of tea for her at Kofi. If you can’t wait for the next release chapter, subscribe to advanced chapters membership on her Kofi to get access to up to 10 chapters!
