Chapter 315: The Divine Tomb of the Underground Palace (2)
Lu Xingxing was solemnly handed over to the Taoist by Yan Shixun.
When the Taoist received the cold, lifeless body that showed no response or awareness, his nose tingled with emotion, and the iron-willed man nearly broke down in tears.
He had watched Lu Xingxing grow up with his own eyes.
Not just him—all the Taoists present, including the old gatekeeper who dozed off daily at the entrance of Haiyun Temple, had all seen Lu Xingxing grow from a young boy into the person he had become.
Taoist Song Yi was the most prominent figure of their generation and handled many important matters within Haiyun Temple. As a result, almost every Taoist had interacted with him at some point.
And anyone who had ever met Taoist Song Yi had inevitably heard this usually stern and tight-lipped man talk, with a deep sense of frustration and grievance, about his disobedient young disciple.
Playful, noisy, always laughing, and never serious about cultivating the Dao—he pursued music instead, claiming his dream was to win a prestigious music award.
But he skipped classes all the time.
If it weren’t for the Taoist in charge of lessons being confined to a wheelchair, he probably would have chased Lu Xingxing across the world to drag him back to study.
Whenever Lu Xingxing and Taoist Song Yi were at the temple at the same time, there was always the scene of the Taoist chasing him up and down the mountains—often witnessed by visiting worshippers, who would laugh and say what a close relationship this master and disciple had.
Lu Xingxing had a naturally warm and outgoing personality. In his eyes, there was no such thing as awkwardness or embarrassment. Even when meeting a stranger for the first time, he could become so friendly within minutes that they’d be walking shoulder to shoulder.
Let alone the Taoists in the temple.
Nearly every Taoist had been affectionately called “Master Uncle” or “Grandmaster” by Lu Xingxing and had been pestered by him, acting sweet and coaxing them to speak on his behalf when he got into trouble with Taoist Song Yi.
But now, the once lively and radiant boy lay cold in his arms, his face deathly pale and utterly silent…
As the Taoist carried him toward the medical vehicle, he felt as though the body in his arms weighed a thousand pounds. Every step he took was unbearably heavy.
Lu Xingxing was carefully handed over to the medical personnel, who began treating the external wounds on his body.
When they gently cut open his clothes and saw the bruises and wounds mottled across his skin, one of the medics felt as if she had taken a punch to the nose—her chest tightened with a painful sourness, and she couldn’t hold back the urge to cry.
The moment another medic touched the injury around Lu Xingxing’s ankle, her fingers were numbed by the icy skin, and she let out a small gasp of surprise, hesitantly looking up at those beside her.
If she hadn’t known that Yan Shixun and the Taoists wouldn’t joke about something so serious, she would have thought… the person lying here was already a corpse.
The others felt the same.
No pulse. No heartbeat. No breath.
Anyone who saw Lu Xingxing now would assume he was dead. Medically, there was no longer any need to attempt resuscitation.
Only a sliver of ghostly divine power kept his soul sealed within his body, stopping his final breath from dispersing.
Ye Li was doing everything possible to sustain his life.
Lu Xingxing had once called Ye Li “Master Aunt.” Because of that, the Lord of Fengdu—who rarely showed concern for the mortal world—was willing to protect him all the way, truly treating him as his own kin.
Yan Shixun and several Taoists stood beside the medical vehicle, silently watching the medics tend to the grotesque wounds across Lu Xingxing’s body in an orderly manner.
He lowered his eyes, looking at Lu Xingxing’s peaceful yet ghostly pale and cold sleeping face.
“Taoist, let’s take Xingxing back to Haiyun Temple first,”
Yan Shixun said softly. “Haiyun Temple has arrays accumulated over many years that can gather vital energy and nourish his soul. It’ll be good for him.”
“When I’m not by his side, I’ll leave him in the care of you and the others.”
The Taoist nodded solemnly. “Fellow Taoist Yan, don’t worry. This child is my junior nephew. I’ve watched him grow up from a boy. We’ll take good care of him—we won’t overlook a thing.”
As he spoke, he sighed and murmured sorrowfully, “How are we going to break this to Taoist Song… sigh…”
When they left, he was alive and full of energy. Now, he was returning cold and still.
Before Xingxing left, Taoist Song had angrily said that he would make sure the boy finished reciting the scriptures before letting him go—he wouldn’t give that rascal a chance to sneak away.
But now, Lu Xingxing would never run again.
What happened to Lu Xingxing dampened everyone’s spirits.
Still, the aftermath had to be handled.
Other than a few Taoists being assigned to stay and guard the temporary camp, the rest entered the mountain range beside the Shadow Puppet Museum, sweeping through it inch by inch to detect and purge any lingering ghostly energy.
Within the museum, many objects tainted with evil energy were also cleansed by the Taoists. These would be handed over to the expert team arriving soon.
After all, the ghost plays of the Southwest had been passed down for a thousand years and held significant research value regarding local customs and traditions. As long as the artifacts could be preserved, the experts hoped to retain and pass them on.
Despite the fact that the wood carvings and shadow puppets had terrified everyone, setting aside their sinister influence, they were indeed outstanding cultural artifacts—representing the pinnacle of craftsmanship and artistry.
Before the handover was complete, the production crew still had plenty to do.
But for now, they were helping the rescue team clean up the scene, doing whatever they could to contribute.
When the assistant director tried to find Zhang Wubing, he suddenly realized that he hadn’t returned, and panic struck him instantly.
“Oh no, Director Zhang hasn’t come back!”
In a flurry, the assistant director rushed to find Yan Shixun. Grabbing his arm, nearly in tears, he said anxiously, “With Director Zhang’s ridiculously unlucky constitution, if he’s run into a ghost, wouldn’t he be worse off than Lu Xingxing? Brother Yan, please, you have to find Director Zhang! You two are so close—you can’t just give up on him!”
Hearing the assistant director’s anxious voice, Yan Shixun raised his eyebrows slightly but gave no clear response.
If Zhang Wubing ran into a ghost, it’d surely be bad for Zhang Wubing. But the person standing here was the King of Hell—if he ran into a ghost, the ghost would probably run first.
“He’s not missing,”
Yan Shixun said casually, lifting his hand and pointing to someone in the distance who was speaking with the official in charge. “Isn’t that him? Zhang Dabing.”
The assistant director looked over, skeptical, and finally realized that the young man in a long robe standing next to the official was indeed Zhang Wubing.
But this person had a straight posture, a refined and handsome face with a light, gentle smile. The aura of someone long used to power subtly influenced those around him. He held a folding fan, his fair and slender fingers resting casually on his arm, looking like a noble immortal untouched by worldly concerns.
No matter how you looked at him, he seemed completely different from the Director Zhang the assistant director was familiar with—the one who was always teary-eyed and pleading for help.
And yet, on closer inspection, their facial features seemed to match…
If this hadn’t come from Yan Shixun himself, the assistant director might have thought someone was pulling a prank on him.
Or maybe this really was Zhang Dabing—Zhang Wubing’s older brother.
After hesitating for quite a while, the assistant director slowly and cautiously walked over, asking carefully, “Uh… excuse me, are you Director Zhang Wubing?”
The King of Hell paused his conversation with the official and turned around, only to see a nervous, uneasy face.
It was a look that wanted confirmation, but also feared the answer.
The King of Hell raised an eyebrow slowly and smiled.
“No, I’m the King of Hell.”
Assistant Director: “!!!”
Official in Charge: “!!!”
The official stared at him in horror: Was that something you could just tell people?! That could cause chaos!
But to his surprise, instead of panicking, the assistant director visibly relaxed. His entire demeanor softened, and he returned to his usual cheerful self.
“Director Zhang, you sure love to joke around, haha. You scared me earlier! You weren’t smiling at all just now—I really thought something had happened to you.”
Laughing heartily, the assistant director said, “As long as you’re okay, that’s what matters.”
“It’s just… I never realized your expression changes so much when you’re not smiling. I didn’t even recognize you just now.”
He waved at the King of Hell cheerfully and said, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. You just rest here and calm down. I’ll coordinate with the expert team and special department.”
With that, he nodded to the official and turned around with renewed energy, immediately starting to direct the production crew.
A nearby staff member who had witnessed the whole thing couldn’t help but exclaim, “The assistant director is really someone you can count on. When something happens, he steps up.”
Who wouldn’t want a friend who always remembers them, and can even notice when they’ve gone missing and come to the rescue?
But after the assistant director left, the official in charge was still shaken, his heart pounding.
Meanwhile, the King of Hell withdrew his gaze softly. His eyes shimmered with brilliance, too beautiful for words.
“See? I didn’t even lie to him—I told him my true identity. How sincere is that? So why would I lie to you?”
The King of Hell looked at the official with a smile, his tone full of meaning. “I told the truth. The only question is—do you dare believe it?”
The official looked at the King of Hell with a complex expression, then shifted his gaze toward Yan Shixun in the distance.
After a long while, he gave a bitter smile and shook his head.
Of course. That man had the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation—how could someone like that, who stayed by Mr. Yan’s side, be an ordinary person?
…But even so, two Kings of Hell and the Lord of Fengdu—Mr. Yan had essentially taken control of all of death, singlehandedly.
The official thought to himself, people said the King of Hell was scary, but honestly, Mr. Yan was even scarier.
He had never been more thankful that Yan Shixun stood on the same side as him.
If Yan Shixun ever decided to act, no one would be able to stop him. Being his enemy… would be a nightmare worse than hell.
“Director Zhang! Director Zhang!”
A few people from the production crew jogged over with a camera in hand. “Luckily, we found a spare camera in the logistics van. Director Zhang, the public opinion group said they’re worried that the audience might start overthinking things if they can’t see anything. They want us to help livestream it to stabilize the situation.”
The King of Hell took the camera with interest. “So that little idiot likes this kind of thing?”
“Light, sound—it’s all just a fleeting memory of time. The delusion of capturing time will always fall apart. No one can live forever in a single moment. And yet, this is the kind of hollow thing the little idiot is chasing after.”
He let out a dismissive laugh, but didn’t refuse. Instead, he carried the camera toward Yan Shixun.
The staff member left standing there: “???”
He stared blankly at the King of Hell’s back, then looked at the official, completely confused. “What kind of blow did our director suffer? He’s totally flipped!”
“Everyone knows Director Zhang’s dream is to be a director, right? Then why is he trashing his own dream, scolding himself like that???”
The official being stared at: …Good question. I know the answer, but I can’t say it.
He spread his hands, signaling helplessness.
The production crew had no choice but to return with confused faces and even more questions.
When the King of Hell approached Yan Shixun, the latter was with medical staff, waiting to have his wounds dressed.
Seeing the King of Hell approach with a cheerful expression, Yan Shixun, who had been calmly speaking with the medics, raised an eyebrow and signaled for them to pause. He told the medic to tend to others first and come back to him later.
The medic looked at his injuries with some concern. While these kinds of wounds might be trivial for someone like Yan Shixun, they still appeared brutal and bloody to anyone else.
If an average person had suffered the same, they’d likely be screaming and writhing on the ground. But Yan Shixun didn’t even flinch, not a single frown.
It made the medic feel a bit heartbroken. After thinking for a moment, she still tried to persuade him, “But Mr. Yan, your injuries are serious… I know you have a high pain tolerance, but that was when you didn’t have access to proper care. Now that it’s safe, you really should let us treat you first.”
Yan Shixun laughed softly, waved her off, and pointed at Zhang Wubing nearby. Smiling, he said, “Do you think with that little idiot charging in like that, he’d give me time to sit still for a proper dressing? If you start treating me, he’ll probably cry while clinging to you.”
The medic was amused. Just then, someone nearby called for her help. She nodded, picked up her kit, and said, “Alright, but once you’re free, make sure to find me to get treated. Even the smallest wound shouldn’t be ignored.”
Yan Shixun nodded with a smile. “Of course.”
Once she left, the nearby staff had just finished adjusting the camera for the King of Hell.
If it had been Zhang Wubing, who had dreamed for years of becoming a director and taught himself everything, operating a small camera like this would’ve been nothing for him.
But the King of Hell…
“What’s the use of leaving behind an image? If someone accidentally records one at the wrong time, in the wrong place, during the Yin hour, wouldn’t that end up capturing a part of their soul as well?”
The King of Hell remarked in surprise, “I didn’t expect there were still people who enjoy running into ghosts?”
Hearing this, a staff member muttered, “…Director Zhang, have you lost it from the shock?”
What was going on? Why had Director Zhang been talking to himself since he came back?
However, Yan Shixun, who knew the inside story, raised an eyebrow and gave the King of Hell a meaningful look. “Some people… shouldn’t they be leaving now?”
Yan Shixun: If you think my little idiot is so annoying, then just leave. Out of sight, out of mind.
Hearing this, the King of Hell looked up. His gaze shifted from the camera to Yan Shixun.
“That… is something you’ll have to ask the Great Dao.”
He casually twirled the folding fan in his hand, lips curled in an easygoing smile. But when he lowered his eyes to look at the fan again, his gaze shimmered like rippling water: “I should have been noticed by the Great Dao the moment I left the old Fengdu. I should have been hunted down as one of the divine remnants that escaped death, destroyed without a trace of consciousness. But…”
“Even now, I remain completely unharmed.”
As he looked up again, the smile at his lips faded. His expression turned serious. “I can’t sense any intention from the Great Dao, whether good or bad. It’s as if… the Great Dao is deliberately ignoring me.”
Yan Shixun pondered this quietly for a moment, then seemed to understand the King of Hell’s implication. “You mean… the Great Dao wants you to handle something?”
The King of Hell nodded and fell silent, lips pressed together.
After what happened in the old Fengdu, the King of Hell had developed a new understanding of the Great Dao. He realized that many things he hadn’t understood at the time had later proven the Dao’s correctness.
This made the King of Hell, who had once resented the Great Dao, begin to feel a cautious trust, unconsciously speculating on its intent.
Seeing his inner turmoil, Yan Shixun chuckled and teased, “Maybe the Great Dao wants you to keep acting as a navigation system. The King of Hell-brand GPS—precise tracking, foolproof for both humans and ghosts.”
The King of Hell: “…Ah, Yan Shixun, you’re so damn annoying :)”
Just then, a staff member came over and informed them that the livestream and social media platforms were all ready. As soon as they started filming, it would be broadcasted live to update all viewers that the cast was safe.
They specifically reminded them to say that everyone was safe and sound, and that there were no ghosts—everything had been done by criminals.
—Anyway, the ghosts in that deserted village counted as criminals too, so technically it wasn’t a lie.
Yan Shixun nodded, not at all troubled. “Don’t worry, I’m great at promoting science.”
The staff member laughed and nodded repeatedly. “That’s true, no one doubts that, Brother Yan.”
“But Brother Yan, why did you guys come out from under the lake? Did something else happen afterward?”
Unable to suppress their curiosity, the staff member asked, “I still don’t know how you did it. You were amazing! I really thought we were goners, but you kept everything under control and brought us all back. Was it really that hard to deal with?”
As the old Fengdu was mentioned, Yan Shixun’s mind conjured the image of Li Chengyun’s smiling face. His own smile faded, and his gaze dimmed.
“It’s nothing…”
He spoke softly, “Some truths… are better left unsaid, because keeping you from knowing them is protecting you. If you don’t have the courage to face the truth, don’t go digging for it. Otherwise, one day you might suffer and regret it.”
The staff member blushed, scratched their head in embarrassment, and focused back on their work.
The King of Hell stood off-camera with his sleeves drawn in, calmly watching Yan Shixun report their safety to the viewers.
Holding a tablet handed over by the crew, Yan Shixun casually selected a few popular questions and answered them absentmindedly.
“Don’t worry, everything’s safe now. No need to keep stressing. The staff behind me are just cleaning up debris—not, as you say, performing exorcisms. Hygiene is everyone’s responsibility.”
“Xingxing? He got hurt fighting the bad guys to protect everyone. He’s resting inside now and needs quiet. He can’t show up for now.”
“Xie Lin found his sister and reunited with her. He wants to live a peaceful life now, so it’s unlikely he’ll appear again. If you want details, go ask Song Ci. Am I Xie Lin’s guardian or what? Tch.”
“There are no ghosts. Don’t say such things.”
With a stern expression, Yan Shixun declared seriously, “Don’t fall for superstition. Believe in science.”
[………….…]
The audience watching from their screens fell into a dazed silence.
But that familiar feeling of being “reasonably bullshitted” by Brother Yan brought a kind of comforting nostalgia. Their hearts, which had been suspended, finally settled—true relief at last.
Some were even crying from happiness: [Yes! This is that classic, dead-serious Brother Yan’s bullshit I missed! Wuwuwu, everything’s finally back to normal!]
[Thank goodness, the old atmosphere is back.]
[I used to think daily life was boring. But after getting chased last night by my figurine holding a huge machete, I’ve realized just how precious every day really is. No more talking. I’m off to print a photo of Brother Yan to ward off evil.]
[I’m still at Haiyun Temple. A little young monk next to me just leaned over to watch the stream too. He saw Brother Yan and called him ‘Master Uncle’—his eyes were sparkling, it was so cute.]
[Thank heavens, things are finally turning around.]
Only behind the camera, the King of Hell stared at Yan Shixun: “…..”
No ghosts? Then what am I?
After making sure public sentiment had mostly stabilized, Yan Shixun handed the livestream back to the director’s team and went to the side to find medical personnel to treat his wounds.
He chatted casually with the King of Hell while unbuttoning his coat and shirt to let the medic access the injury.
The medic came over with scissors, intending to cut the blood-soaked clothes that had stuck to his wounds. But he waved her off and said it wasn’t necessary.
When he pulled off the black shirt that was stuck to his flesh, his brows furrowed, and he let out a muffled grunt.
The shirt was completely soaked in blood, and when he tossed it aside, it released a sharp metallic scent into the air.
Soon, all eyes shifted from the shirt to Yan Shixun himself.
He stood there quietly with his gaze lowered. His bare upper body had clean, flowing lines and perfect proportions—a body like a sculpted masterpiece. Every muscle was defined, filled with explosive strength.
Under the morning light, his skin even shimmered faintly like pearls—radiating the purest beauty of raw power.
Jagged wounds slashed across his body. The deepest one on his arm had flesh torn open to the bone. When the medic checked it, she couldn’t help but suck in a cold breath.
She knew how painful such injuries were. Any movement would tug at the muscles and cause immense agony.
Yet Yan Shixun had endured it all without complaint.
The medic’s eyes were full of admiration as she looked at him.
Everyone nearby who glanced at him—even just out of the corner of their eyes—showed not only shock but also awe.
The official in charge subconsciously pinched the soft flesh on his own arm.
…Right. Time to hit the gym when I get back.
Even the King of Hell, who was still speaking, found his voice growing quieter… until it disappeared entirely. He had been completely distracted by Yan Shixun.
But he hadn’t even looked for more than a couple of seconds when he felt the hairs on his back stand on end, a chill spreading slowly along his spine.
It felt as if someone was standing behind him, watching him with a cold, unrelenting stare.
Like a top-tier predator slowly baring its fangs at a rabbit.
King of Hell shuddered, a vague guess forming in his mind.
And sure enough, when he turned around to look—
It was Ye Li, staring at him from not far away.
The moment King of Hell averted his gaze from Yan Shixun, Ye Li let out a cold snort, not even bothering to spare him another glance.
Raising his brows meaningfully, King of Hell instantly understood—Someone’s seriously jealous. Tsk tsk tsk.
Ye Li’s eyes were icy cold as he slowly swept his gaze across the people around them.
Those who had unconsciously stopped to look at Yan Shixun quickly remembered the tasks they were supposed to be doing. Like fleeing from danger, they scurried off and didn’t dare to sneak even another glance at Yan Shixun.
Ye Li strode over in large steps, took off his long outer robe, and draped it over Yan Shixun’s shoulders. His face was stern as he said, “It’s cold. Be careful not to catch a chill.”
Yan Shixun: “…………”
He said speechlessly, “What’s wrong with you? I’m treating a wound. How am I supposed to do that with clothes on?”
As he spoke, he reached up to take off the robe.
But Ye Li pressed a hand firmly on his shoulder. “It’s fine. I’ll hold it up for you.”
As he spoke, he gave a nod to the medical personnel nearby. “Thanks for your help. Just expose the areas that need to be bandaged. No need to leave him this uncovered.”
Especially out here!
If they were at home, and it was just him and Shixun alone… then maybe it would be acceptable.
Ye Li began to seriously consider whether he should learn some of the human methods for treating wounds—then he could be the one to apply medicine and wrap bandages for Shixun in the future. It would also give him another excuse to get close to him.
Yan Shixun’s expression was blank. “…Wipe that smile off your face. It’s creepy. One look and I can tell you’re up to no good.”
Ye Li gave a light cough and said righteously, “Absolutely not.”
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