Chapter 317: The Divine Tomb of the Underground Palace (4)
An Nanyuan had originally planned to say that if they were short on manpower, he could stay behind to help.
But the rescue team members, who had already grown familiar with the guests, laughed and teased him, saying the guests were already so exhausted that if they stayed any longer, instead of helping, they’d probably end up needing to be rescued themselves.
As he spoke, one of the team members tossed An Nanyuan a large bag of emergency rations, laughing and cursing good-naturedly, urging him to leave quickly.
An Nanyuan quickly caught the bag, grinning as he agreed. The moment he got into the vehicle, he collapsed into the seat, sprawling out in all directions without the slightest concern for maintaining his idol image.
The guests who got on after him smiled knowingly when they saw this. No one mocked An Nanyuan; instead, they each found a corner, wrapped themselves in blankets, and curled up quietly.
After a sleepless night of fleeing in constant fear, everyone had spent an enormous amount of physical and mental energy. Nearly all of them had heavy dark circles under their eyes, looking utterly haggard and worn out.
They had drunk a few hurried sips of hot porridge provided by the rescue team. Once their bodies warmed up, sleepiness and exhaustion swept over them like a tide.
After forcing themselves to recount their experiences to the special department personnel for the record, they had drained the last of their strength. So when the production crew finally called for them to board the vehicle, all they could think about was “sleep.”
Even when An Nanyuan invited them to eat something, they just waved him off, too tired to even speak another word.
When King of Hell carried the ebony statue onto the vehicle, everyone looked on with curiosity, but they were too drained to even open their mouths. Instead, they simply peeked out from under their blankets with only their eyes exposed, watching him silently.
The guests had witnessed the moment Zhang Wubing transformed, and they understood that the person now before them wasn’t the director they once knew, but the legendary King of Hell, who presided over life and death.
Yet when he easily lifted the ebony statue onto the vehicle and the car suddenly sank under its weight, everyone was visibly startled.
Ever since the ebony statue had gone missing from the Baizhi Lake Temple, very few people had seen it again.
In most people’s memories, the statue had always seemed small and lightweight. No one expected the one King of Hell brought back from the old Fengdu to be so much heavier than imagined.
When the special department tried to document the statue, they attempted to measure its height and weight. But the staff misjudged how heavy it was—when someone tried to lift it, they were nearly pulled down to the floor.
It took two grown men using all their strength to barely raise it, and even then, their faces turned red and their legs trembled from the effort.
While the official in charge stood there dumbfounded, King of Hell just shrugged, having expected this all along: “That one has already awakened. With his power present, how could it possibly be light?”
“The original purpose of carving the ebony statue wasn’t to serve as a ward but to cleanse the old Fengdu, preventing corrupt ghost officials from wreaking havoc in the mortal realm. Even after it was used as a ward, it didn’t require his presence, so the statue remained in a dormant state.”
King of Hell gathered his sleeves and smiled: “But now…we can only say that one still has a gentle heart toward the human world. Otherwise, if we were calculating the true weight of his power, this entire land would have collapsed under the pressure.”
The official in charge was stunned.
Just one Lord of Fengdu was already beyond his expectations—this surprise had turned into a full-blown shock!
Even though the official didn’t fully understand Fengdu, he still knew that “two tigers cannot share one mountain.” Having two near-equal beings coexist in the same space—how could that possibly end peacefully?
Worried, the official cautiously asked King of Hell, “Why is he still here? Is there any way to keep those two from interfering with each other?”
Though the question was phrased politely, King of Hell clearly understood what the official was really trying to ask.
“They are two aspects of the same entity. From the moment that ghost official saw him a thousand years ago, the course of fate had already veered off its original path.”
King of Hell chuckled. “You living people often say, ‘It’s easy to invite a god, but hard to send one away.’ In truth, summoning a ghost deity is even harder to undo—almost impossible.”
The official opened his mouth, feeling both guilty toward the ebony statue and deeply worried about ordinary people.
Thankfully, King of Hell’s next words brought him some comfort.
“What are you afraid of? Isn’t Yan Shixun still here?”
King of Hell leisurely flicked his folding fan and said casually, “To Ye Li, the Great Dao is not his heaven—Yan Shixun is. As long as Yan Shixun still loves the mortal world and still lives, Ye Li will never harm it. The same goes for the other one.”
“Of course, if someone were to kill Yan Shixun…”
His smile faded slightly. “Then not even the Great Dao could undo that deadlock.”
The official quickly waved his hands. “That’s absolutely impossible. Mr. Yan is already incredibly strong, and with Fengdu and Haiyun Temple backing him, nothing will go wrong. Besides, who wouldn’t admire Mr. Yan after learning what he’s done all these years?”
King of Hell smiled again, as if the earlier gloom had been nothing more than an illusion.
“You’re right.”
He nodded and said, “But if that one merges completely with Ye Li—if they become one and the same—then your worries will truly be unnecessary.”
“Besides…”
He lowered his eyes slightly, looking down at the sun, moon, and stars painted on his folding fan.
The clouds on the fan’s surface had long since dissipated when the old Fengdu perished, revealing clearly rendered suns, moons, flying birds, and roaming beasts—an image teeming with life.
That small fan seemed to hold within it an entire, condensed world.
King of Hell remained silent for a long time before he sighed softly.
What he didn’t say out loud was—once the two became one, Ye Li would have completed both his life and his afterlife, reaching perfect fulfillment.
Which meant…
Ye Li would become the Great Dao.
The King of Hell couldn’t quite grasp the intentions of the Great Dao. He didn’t know whether the Great Dao wanted Ye Li to take on the burden of supporting it, or if it wished for Ye Li to replace it altogether.
But regardless, at his level, every word he spoke could have some effect—large or small—on the heavens and the earth. If he wasn’t sure of something, he couldn’t speak carelessly.
So, he had no choice but to temporarily bury his doubts and wait for another time to observe and judge.
However, there was one thing the King of Hell was certain about:
—Achieving that goal would be extremely difficult.
The bare minimum requirement was retrieving the remains of the general and the hundred thousand soldiers left behind on the battlefield all those years ago.
For ordinary spirits, a corpse and a proper burial site still held significant meaning—let alone for someone like Ye Li.
If there was truly any hope of changing the situation, it could only be done by returning to that original burial ground and resolving the resentment and anger of the general and the hundred thousand soldiers.
A thousand years ago, the King of Hell had once returned alone to the battlefield in the land of Ye. But by the time he arrived, the field had long been cleared. Not a single corpse remained in sight.
Only blood, blackened and soaked several feet deep into the soil, along with fragments of shattered weapons and torn flesh scattered behind mounds and rocks, hinted at the tragedy that had once occurred there.
The locals all claimed that the dead soldiers had been swept together and thrown into a mass grave to feed the dogs.
But there were also whispered rumors among the common folk. It was said that the brutal war in Ye City had shocked many nearby villages. Out of gratitude for the protection the soldiers had once offered, villagers secretly organized themselves to retrieve and bury the remains of the fallen before the new ruling power could take over the area. They buried the soldiers under cover of night and hid their bones.
Yet rumors were often unreliable, perhaps even intentionally spread to prevent the new regime from desecrating the graves. Many of the rumored burial sites turned out to be empty.
The new forces, enraged by the tales, stormed the supposed sites—only to find nothing.
The remains of those hundred thousand soldiers seemed to have vanished into thin air.
Aside from vague, contradictory rumors, no one had ever found the actual burial site or seen it with their own eyes.
As time passed, people gave up the search.
Ironically, this gave the fallen soldiers some peace.
Those soldiers had followed their general and become part of the new Fengdu. In matters concerning the remains of those heroic souls, not even the King of Hell could pinpoint the burial site.
The Lord of Fengdu’s immense power obscured the location from every god, ghost, or spirit.
Even from the heavens and the King of Hell.
After several failed attempts, the King of Hell had no choice but to leave in disappointment, deciding to wait for another opportunity.
And so he waited. Waited until the Great Dao began to collapse. A thousand years passed.
The King of Hell slowly blinked his eyes and sighed softly, “Only the one who tied the bell can untie it…”
“What did you just say?”
The official in charge had just finished signing a document he’d been handed and apologized awkwardly. “I didn’t catch that.”
“Nothing.”
The King of Hell quickly gathered his thoughts and resumed his usual smiling demeanor. “According to Yan Shixun, it’s safest to keep that person under our watch. Makes sense—if anything truly goes wrong, only he could handle it.”
“In that case, it’s not appropriate for you to keep the ebony statue. We’ll take custody of it for now—let’s place it at Yan Shixun’s bedside. Even if that person had the guts to overturn the heavens, I doubt he’d step on an ant while he’s under Yan Shixun’s nose.”
As he spoke, the King of Hell strode over, bent slightly, and effortlessly lifted the wooden puppet.
Two strong adult men had struggled to move it earlier, yet he handled it as if it weighed nothing.
The special department staff nearby could only stare, stunned.
“Well then, we’ll meet again when we’re back in Binhai.”
The King of Hell nodded at the official, then strolled leisurely toward the guest vehicle.
Wherever he passed, people couldn’t help but turn and stare, dumbfounded by the dramatic transformation of “Director Zhang.”
Once the soft, delicate, third-generation rich kid director who couldn’t lift a thing, he now seemed capable of lifting a mountain… Had he eaten too much spinach, or was he truly possessed by something?
—When Zhang Wubing returned, he’d probably find himself saddled with a new trait: superhuman strength.
He’d be left full of question marks.
Yet the King of Hell’s gait was graceful, and the long robe embroidered with mountains and birds fluttered behind him like crane feathers. In the crisp, clean morning light, he held a folding fan in one hand and the wooden sculpture in the other, looking for all the world like a cultured young noble in a chaotic world.
More than a few people were left slack-jawed, secretly wondering how they had never noticed before that Director Zhang was actually so handsome.
However, when An Nanyuan saw the ebony statue inside the vehicle, he instinctively shrank back, grabbed a blanket, and curled himself up in a tight ball, shivering from fear and cold at the memory it evoked.
He clearly remembered the suffocating horror in that abandoned village. The ebony statue was like a key unlocking a door in his mind—once the keywords triggered, his brain automatically began looping the terrifying memories, both traumatizing and hypnotic.
Eyes brimming with tears, An Nanyuan asked in a trembling voice, “Why, why did you bring that on board? C-can’t you move it farther away?”
The King of Hell looked over with interest and pretended to place the puppet in the empty seat next to An Nanyuan.
Terrified, An Nanyuan shrieked, dove into the next seat over, and shouted, “Someone’s sitting here! This seat’s taken! No room!”
The King of Hell burst into hearty laughter.
The rest of the guests: “…………”
They silently pulled their blankets tighter around themselves, firmly committed to not asking anything they didn’t need to know.
When Yan Shixun boarded the vehicle, he immediately noticed the ebony statue not far from him.
His brow twitched as he asked the King of Hell, “Don’t tell me you’re planning to keep that at my place.”
The King of Hell returned an innocent and pure gaze and asked in reply, “Why not? I was actually thinking it should go in your bedroom.”
Yan Shixun: “……”
He said nothing, but with a slight squeeze of his hand, the armrest of his chair cracked with a loud *snap*.
The special hard alloy splintered in his palm, crumbling to the floor.
At the same time, a crisp shattering sound rang out from another corner.
Everyone turned to look—Ye Li had smashed through the nearby bulletproof glass.
“…………”
The vehicle fell into complete silence. Everyone did their best to pretend they were asleep—deep, dreamless sleep—no one daring to speak or get involved in the deadly tension between the powerhouses.
Variety show celebrity: You need to know when to keep quiet. Otherwise, you’ll just end up as cannon fodder, beaten to a pulp by the big shots.
Only the King of Hell continued, casually finishing the second half of his sentence: “This way, if anything unusual happens, you’ll notice it right away. How thoughtful, isn’t it?”
Yan Shixun gave a tight-lipped smile. “That’s a very solid reason. But stop enjoying this so much—you’re already showing your fox tail.”
Ye Li followed with a cold snort. “You gave up being the King of Hell just to act out a ghost story. What, even in death you want to seduce a scholar? Dream on!”
The quietly watching crowd: …Was that a veiled insult? It had to be!
Only the battle general sitting next to Ye Li finally revealed a smile for the first time since leaving the old Fengdu. He turned to look at Yan Shixun and lowered his voice, saying, “Don’t worry, as long as you’re here, I won’t do anything.”
Even his gaze toward the King of Hell now carried a hint of warmth—no longer cold and indifferent as before.
Yan Shixun, “…Isn’t that still conditional?”
Was he playing word games, thinking he couldn’t hear the implication?
The general smiled. “So, how about carrying me with you at all times?”
Ye Li, silently watching from the side: That move felt oddly familiar… Wasn’t that exactly what I did to get into Shixun’s house? This guy, damn it!
But the King of Hell, who had stirred up trouble in the first place, simply watched the scene with leisure, even sighing in amusement. As expected of counterparts from different timelines sharing the same body—they even thought and acted alike.
If it weren’t for the inappropriate setting, the King of Hell might have conjured up a handful of sunflower seeds, enjoyed the show, and clapped in delight, cheering them on with “Fight, fight!”
Inside the vehicle, even the air had grown taut, tension thick with the scent of battle. Everyone held their breath.
Only the four seated in front exchanged dagger-like glances, sharp and deadly in their silence.
The driver, wanting to ask the director whether it was time to leave, shrank his neck timidly, afraid the dangerous aura from the group might affect him.
The King of Hell chuckled and nodded. “Alright, let’s go.”
“Wait any longer and everyone in the car might die from the stress.”
He casually brushed the dust off his long robe, looking quite satisfied with the outcome and deciding to take a short rest.
Hidden achievements, silent glory.
Smiling.
Ye Li shot a daggered glance toward the King of Hell, only to see him already smiling with his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.
Ye Li’s expression immediately went dead: “Tch.”
Still, the King of Hell’s words reminded Ye Li that there were other people in the car—it wasn’t the right time or place to lose his temper or take action. If he really wanted to fight, it should be somewhere Shixun couldn’t see or hear, quiet and out of the way.
Expressionless, Ye Li glanced over the shivering blanket-covered figures in the back, then retracted his gaze and sat up straight, choosing to ignore the person beside him.
As the pressure inside the vehicle eased, the driver felt as if he had just survived a disaster. He was so overwhelmed he nearly burst into tears.
He trembled as he started the vehicle, thinking all the fear of his entire life had been drained by this one show.
The car soon merged onto the highway. The smooth ride and rhythmic motion made the passengers feel as though they had returned to a cradle. Drowsiness crept over them, pulling them into peaceful dreams.
Some even began to snore softly, content and undisturbed.
What would usually be annoying little sounds now felt oddly comforting.
There were no evil spirits lurking in the shadows, no wood puppets waiting to take lives, no cold mountain winds, and no hunger pains gnawing at their stomachs.
Wrapped in soft blankets in the warm vehicle, everyone finally lowered their guard. What truly reassured them was the presence of their companions—and Brother Yan sitting up front.
Even in sleep, their smiles never faded.
The atmosphere inside the vehicle was warm and peaceful—a perfect environment for rest.
Even Yan Shixun, slowly influenced by the calm, began to feel sleepy.
In terms of both physical and mental exhaustion, he had endured far more than anyone else, not to mention the excruciating pain of fighting through it all with his body covered in gruesome wounds.
Others might have found a corner to hide and wait for rescue. But in the old Fengdu, where time had stood still, Yan Shixun had been actively fighting for who knows how long.
No matter how strong his willpower, he was still made of flesh and blood.
Now that he was safe, drowsiness surged over him in waves. His eyelashes fluttered, and at last, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
This made Ye Li, who had been watching him the whole time, hate the person beside him even more.
If it weren’t for the general, he could’ve been the one holding the sleeping Shixun, feeling his steady breath against his chest and basking in the warmth of that happiness.
Tch.
But no matter how displeased Ye Li was, he could only watch helplessly as Yan Shixun leaned sideways in sleep—his head bumping lightly against the King of Hell’s. They looked exceptionally close.
Ye Li: “!!!”
Damn it! Should he just rip this guy apart right now and snatch Shixun back?!
The general, sensing something, glanced sideways at Ye Li. But he merely gave him a cold, brief look before withdrawing his gaze, clearly confident that Ye Li wouldn’t dare make a move.
In front of Yan Shixun, he believed Ye Li shared the same restraint as him.
Ye Li: …Even more furious now.
But the general wasn’t wrong. With Yan Shixun nearby, no matter how upset Ye Li got, he would only fume silently. He wouldn’t do anything.
He quietly watched Yan Shixun’s sleeping face, feeling no pressure at all. Even his usually sharp and composed brows gradually relaxed, infected by the current tranquility and joy.
—If only Ye Li weren’t sitting beside him, it would’ve been perfect.
Just as everyone in the vehicle began drifting into dreams with the morning light, the car suddenly braked hard. Tires screeched against the road in a sharp, jarring sound.
Those sleeping soundly had no time to brace themselves and were flung forward, hitting the seats in front of them with a heavy “thud!” that left their heads spinning and ears ringing.
An Nanyuan had it the worst. He had been hiding in the back seat to get away from the ebony statue, bundled tightly in a blanket. The seat in front wasn’t enough to stop him.
When the car slammed to a stop, he rolled right out of his blanket cocoon and tumbled down the aisle, all the way to the front.
It was Yan Shixun’s long legs that finally blocked his path and stopped his unlucky tumble.
An Nanyuan struggled to untangle himself, poking his limbs out from the fluffy bundle and shaking his head in an effort to make sense of what just happened.
He felt like his brain had been scrambled into a smoothie.
Yan Shixun, sensing the danger even in his sleep, snapped his eyes open. His sharp gaze shot forward, body already instinctively in a defensive stance before his mind had fully caught up.
He cast a glance at An Nanyuan at his feet, then quickly turned to check on the rest of the passengers before calmly asking the driver, “What happened?”
“This road’s under reconstruction for the winter. It’s blocked ahead, and we can’t get through,”
The driver replied helplessly, eyeing the sign and pile of dirt up ahead.
During renovations, one lane had been left open for traffic.
But last night, a thick fog had rolled in from the southwest, and evil spirits had run rampant across the land.
The highway in and out of the southwest had been hit hard.
A freight truck driving at night hadn’t realized the danger in time. The driver, exhausted and dazed, had nearly fallen asleep—only to jolt awake at the flickering shadows of ghosts on the road. Panicking, he swerved violently, but an evil spirit had already crashed through his window, attacking him viciously.
In the struggle, the truck lost control. Despite the driver’s experience, the massive vehicle toppled onto its side.
Fortunately, there hadn’t been a more serious accident, and the evil spirits had all dissipated in time after Yan Shixun suppressed and destroyed the Ghost Dao.
But amidst the fortune lay misfortune—the truck had completely blocked the only lane on the road.
The incident had happened so suddenly that every vehicle using this highway had ended up stuck here in the traffic jam.
The reason the guest van had to brake so abruptly was because the vehicle ahead had suddenly hit the brakes.
The driver turned back apologetically to Yan Shixun and said, “Sorry, Mr. Yan. I’ll get out and ask around to see if there’s another route we can take. From the looks of it, there’s no chance we’ll be moving anytime soon.”
The sun was blazing overhead, and drivers from the other cars were also beginning to get out to assess the situation.
Yan Shixun glanced around, confirmed there was no immediate danger, and nodded.
The driver quickly got out of the vehicle and jogged toward the front of the traffic line, eager to get out of there as soon as possible.
Although he had been luckier than the guests and hadn’t encountered any real danger that night—being protected all along by the Taoists—after everything that had happened, he felt an overwhelming urge to go home and reunite with his family. He was anxious to return to Binhai City and had no desire to waste any more time here.
After the reason was explained, not only did the guests not feel afraid or complain, but instead, they let out a sigh of relief.
Having gone through so many life-and-death crises, their mindsets were already far more composed than that of ordinary people. At this point, unless they were surrounded by a horde of ghosts again, nothing could get them to struggle out of their blankets.
Besides, Brother Yan was just up ahead, and the Lord of Fengdu and the King of Hell were also right in front. With a lineup like that, what could possibly go wrong?
Everyone just glanced over briefly to get a general idea of the situation, then tucked their blankets in more snugly to block the cold wind that had sneaked in through the open car door, and prepared to drift back to sleep in peace.
The sleepiness that had just been scattered now came rushing back once more.
Bai Shuang, who had rolled off the seat, stubbornly bounced back onto it, determined not to let the warmth she had painstakingly built up escape.
An Nanyuan also supported his lower back, which had been painfully knocked, grimacing as he dragged his blanket back to his seat.
He felt like he had never been this round in his life, bouncing out like a ball. He was completely dazed.
Yan Shixun glanced at the limping An Nanyuan and couldn’t help but chuckle.
However, most of Yan Shixun’s attention remained outside the car, so he didn’t notice that the King of Hell was still leaning against his shoulder.
The King of Hell looked half-awake, with a lazy air like a beauty in a spring slumber, a faint shimmer of water in his beautiful eyes, half-lidded and drowsy. He leaned limply on Yan Shixun’s shoulder, his folding fan resting loosely across his knees.
It was an undeniably pleasing sight, but in Ye Li’s eyes, it was unbearably glaring.
“King of Hell, if you don’t want your head, just say so.”
Ye Li gritted his teeth and said, “I can throw it away for you.”
The more he looked at this guy, the less he seemed like the King of Hell and more like some seductive consort—a temptress trying to enchant Shixun!
The King of Hell slowly blinked, then lazily straightened up like he had only just regained full awareness, leaning back against his seat as if he were lounging in a blooming garden courtyard.
He looked at Ye Li with a faint, ambiguous smile, completely unbothered by his words, and replied lightly, “Sorry, too many things on my mind. It’s exhausting.”
He put on a troubled expression, resting his chin in his hand lazily as he said, “Still don’t know where that person’s corpse was buried—it’s really giving me a headache.”
Ye Li, who had been about to say something else, was suddenly left speechless.
His expression turned unpleasant as he stared deeply at the King of Hell, but in the end, he didn’t say anything.
He had understood what the King of Hell meant.
This guy, who had first lit the fuse, was now stepping carefully on the edge of chaos, but had also taken the initiative to pull the situation back under control and even offered a solution.
The King of Hell was telling him that if he wanted to resolve the current situation, he needed to retrieve the place where his remains were buried—merge the general and himself into one so the unrest would end.
But if he did that, how would he be any different from the Great Dao?
Ye Li had never envied the immortality of heaven and earth, nor had he ever cared for the honor of the Great Dao. To him, the most important thing now was Yan Shixun.
He didn’t want to become the Great Dao. All he wanted was to greet his lover with a simple “Good morning” in a little courtyard in Binhai City, bathed in morning sunlight.
That happiness—of opening his eyes to see Shixun—was worth more than anything else in the world.
The King of Hell’s words had also caught the attention of the general.
He lifted his eyelashes slightly and looked calmly at the King of Hell.
The King of Hell, going head-to-head with two beings even the Great Dao would show deference to, didn’t show a hint of fear. He still wore that same smiling, relaxed expression.
He tugged on Yan Shixun’s sleeve and smiled as he raised his brows at Ye Li and the general: Ever heard of a fox borrowing the tiger’s might?
Ye Li: …………
General: …………
The two people, who didn’t usually get along, for the first time shared the same thought and reached a tacit agreement.
Just then, the driver came running back, panting heavily as he said, “I’ve got the information. If we exit the highway from the small side road up ahead, take the mountain route and go around the range, we can bypass this whole section and get back on the highway farther along.”
“But this route is roundabout. It’ll delay us by about four or five hours compared to our original schedule.”
The driver glanced at his watch, a little annoyed. “That means we won’t reach Binhai City until night.”
Given the current winter sunset time, by then, the sky would already be completely dark.
But there was no better route at the moment. Yan Shixun thought for a moment, then nodded and said, “Let’s go with that, then.”
He couldn’t exactly ask Ye Li to bend space and send everyone home.
If that happened, they’d probably be on the news the next day.
—*Shocking! A Tour Group Travels a Thousand Miles in One Day. Is It a Shameless Publicity Stunt or a Tragic Haunting?*
Yan Shixun originally wanted to explain the situation to everyone, but when he turned around, he found that everyone was already fast asleep—even Bai Shuang was drooling with complete disregard for her image.
…Fine, then.
The King of Hell also saw the scene and chuckled as he spoke for the group, “At this level of fatigue, of course they’d sleep whenever they can. Never mind changing the route—they’d even sleep on a dirt ridge by the roadside if needed.”
The vehicle started again and turned onto the mountain road.
The dirt road couldn’t compare to the highway. Even though it had some shockproofing, the car still swayed and jolted significantly.
On a normal day, even someone mildly prone to motion sickness would’ve thrown up from the shaking. But now, no one even furrowed their brows. They clutched their blankets and slept soundly.
From the scenery whizzing past the window, Yan Shixun saw deserted, abandoned villages. The small road had clearly not been repaired in years, and the bumpy ride kept him from falling asleep. Instead, he gazed out the window and fell into thought.
But as time passed, he noticed that the architectural style of the villages they passed was gradually changing.
Because of the different climates in each region, there were different considerations when building houses, leading to great variation in their appearances.
Northern houses had thick walls and prioritized warmth. The northwest had strong winds, so homes needed ample sunlight and wind protection. In the south, people preferred small buildings with beautiful decorations.
When Yan Shixun came back from his thoughts, he realized that the houses flashing by the window were drastically different from the ones he had seen earlier.
Moreover, the clear and sunny sky of the morning had gradually turned dark, and clouds were starting to gather.
He couldn’t help but lift his hand to check the time.
It was exactly noon.
But based on the sun and moon cycles in the southwest, the sky shouldn’t be this dark at this time.
It looked more like the lighting conditions of a place farther north.
Yan Shixun frowned and asked the driver in front, “Are you sure we didn’t take the wrong road?”
The driver hadn’t noticed anything unusual. “Nope. I asked the workers. They said this road follows the mountain terrain—it’s a single road with no forks. Just keep driving straight.”
No. That wasn’t right.
Yan Shixun furrowed his brow deeper and immediately pushed the King of Hell beside him awake. “Where are you navigating us this time?”
The King of Hell, eyes still a little misty, looked extremely aggrieved. “I am the King of Hell—what do you mean ‘navigating’… oh, forget it.”
“Although that little idiot does run into ghosts often, it’s always been through accurate calculations using the Heavenly Stems, Earthly Branches, and the twenty-eight lunar mansions. Even I have no idea where we’re going this time—how could I?”
The King of Hell looked at Yan Shixun with a wronged expression, as if saying *You don’t trust me.* “I don’t know what’s going on, but I swear this time it’s really not me.”
Yan Shixun let out a cold laugh and pointed out the window. “Take a good look. You tell me this is the southwest? Since when does the southwest have this many trees? And flowers blooming in this season?”
The King of Hell glanced out the window and was momentarily stunned. His expression quickly turned serious as he sat up straight, shedding the lazy demeanor he had moments ago.
The situation before him had gone beyond his control, leaving him somewhat dumbfounded. He even began to suspect that the Great Dao had meddled again.
But before any of them could figure out the cause, a group of elderly villagers suddenly rushed out from the nearby village.
Each of them had fierce and greedy eyes, charging straight at the vehicle with a look of grim determination, as if they were throwing themselves to their deaths.
Startled, the King of Hell instinctively raised the folding fan in his hand and pointed it toward the zombie-like elderly figures lunging at them from ahead.
But Yan Shixun, quick-eyed and sharp-handed, immediately pressed his hand down. “Look closely—they’re human!”
At that moment, the driver cried out, “Damn it, we’ve run into road extortionists!”
Worried he might actually hit the old folks, he hurriedly slammed the brakes all the way down, trying to stop the car as quickly as possible.
At the same time, there was a loud bang—“Boom!”—as a tire blew out.
The vehicle lurched sharply to one side.
The ebony statue remained perfectly still.
Meanwhile, the unlucky guests were once again thrown forward with a loud *thud* as the brakes jerked them into the seats in front. An Nanyuan rolled over again, tumbling forward like a ball.
Yan Shixun held the King of Hell down with one hand and, with the other, grabbed An Nanyuan by the collar as he passed by, saving him from crashing all the way to the front of the van.
Dazed from the fall, An Nanyuan felt like crying. “I just wanted to sleep. Why is it so hard?”
Amid the violent shaking caused by the sudden stop, only Yan Shixun stood firm, completely steady, not even swaying a little. He stared ahead, his expression stern, not daring to relax in the slightest.
This was as troublesome as dealing with evil spirits.
When the driver shouted just now, Yan Shixun, who had traveled extensively across the country, immediately understood what was going on.
Some villages made part of their living by extorting money from passing vehicles.
To put it bluntly—they staged fake accidents.
If you refused to pay a “toll,” the entire village, young and old, would come rushing out. Things could escalate quickly into physical confrontations, even bloodshed.
To prevent drivers from escaping, these villages often set up roadblocks while staging their fake accidents and would puncture tires. If the driver didn’t have a spare, they’d be forced to pay an outrageous fee to get it replaced—right there in the village.
Most drivers, not being locals and unwilling to cause more trouble, often chose to pay up to avoid conflict.
Over time, these villages became even more brazen.
And now, they had stumbled into just such a situation.
Before the car had even come to a full stop, one of the old villagers had already slammed onto the windshield, glaring fiercely at the driver and others inside. There wasn’t a trace of kindness on that wrinkled face—only malice and greed.
Others, seeing the vehicle about to stop, threw themselves under the tires and began wailing loudly, “You hit someone! You hit someone! Is there no law left in this world? Might as well let this old woman die right here!”
The driver was on the verge of a breakdown. He turned around and looked at Yan Shixun, pleading for help.
By now, more and more villagers were swarming the vehicle, nearly surrounding it completely.
Someone tried to pull open the door, another raised an axe and began pounding on the windows, shouting, “You hit someone, you hear me?! Hand over the money! Or don’t even think about leaving!”
Luckily, the vehicles that Zhang Wubing had purchased were high-end business-class tour vans, top-notch in terms of safety. With full-metal frames and bulletproof windows, they withstood the villagers’ attempts to break in.
The guests were terrified by the faces pressed right up against the glass.
Most of them had never encountered anything like this before. Just barely waking from sleep, they were scared half to death by the scene, all traces of drowsiness gone.
Yan Shixun’s face darkened.
At this point, he actually wished they were dealing with vengeful ghosts instead.
It would have been better than this impossible predicament.
The general lowered his gaze, sitting quietly, his thoughts unreadable.
Ye Li stood up, his cold gaze sweeping over the shouting faces outside the windows.
But Yan Shixun stopped him. “Let me handle this.”
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