Chapter 329: The Divine Tomb of the Underground Palace (16)
Ye Li was someone who disliked bringing up the past.
The experiences he had as a mortal were like a wound that had never healed, festering for over a thousand years. It was hidden beneath the divine dignity of a ghost deity, concealed from the world’s eyes.
For a battle-hardened general who made it his life’s mission to guard and protect lives—what could be more devastating than watching the very people he swore to protect be slaughtered before his eyes?
Nothing could be worse.
“He battled across three thousand miles, and with a single sword, stood against a million men.”
Yet, the awe-inspiring might he once wielded on the battlefield had all turned into blood-soaked, resentful howls.
His sword dulled, the battlefield ran rivers of blood, and flags lay broken.
He had failed to protect the people of Ye City.
It was the only failure of his life—and it ended in tragedy.
That failure became the deepest guilt buried in the marrow of his soul, turning into an unyielding obsession. It was that obsession that drove him, even after death, to sprint across a thousand miles, storm into Fengdu, and question the very gods and spirits.
That battle left all beings—gods, spirits, and mortals—in utter shock. It even disrupted the laws of heaven and earth, forcing a rewrite of the very rules that governed life and death. From that point on, death was no longer absolute—resentment could find resolution.
Even the Heavenly Masters who loathed Ye Li had no choice but to admit that what he achieved was an unprecedented feat. No one had ever created such madness and power on the battlefield—and no one ever would again.
The exorcists of a thousand years ago might not have understood Ye Li, and they condemned him alongside their sects. Yet, in private, they admired him.
—Because if they had been the ones murdered, would anyone have torn heaven and earth apart in a quest for justice, just to redress their wrongful deaths?
No, there wouldn’t be anyone.
Only Ye Li.
So, even though the massacre of Ye City was a tragedy, many still secretly envied the people of that land—for they had someone who fought for them.
But for Ye Li, though he was able to quell their resentment, avenge their deaths, and send the wronged spirits to reincarnate—He could not overturn life and death itself. He could not bring those tragically slain people back to life.
As a ghost deity presiding over death, his duties were to judge the sins and virtues of souls and send them back into the cycle of reincarnation.
He had to fiercely guard the balance between yin and yang, life and death. Even he himself was not allowed to disrupt the natural cycle.
That was his duty—as the Lord of Fengdu.
And so, Ye Li left behind that part of himself which was once human. He buried it forever in the land of Ye City, alongside the people of that city.
Even in death, he wished to see them off on their final journey.
But while a ghost deity could avoid confronting his past, the Great Dao could not be evaded.
To walk the path of the Great Dao meant being able to observe one’s life—coldly and objectively.
No matter the past, present, or future—nothing could be allowed to shake one’s heart or will.
Only then could one truly guide all beings toward a radiant and peaceful future, without being swayed by personal desires.
Thus, when Ye Li approached the land where his bones were buried, the memories of the past resurfaced like festering wounds. Blood-soaked and raw, they were laid bare before both him and Yan Shixun.
Ye Li pressed his pale, bloodless lips together. After a brief silence, he smiled again at Yan Shixun.
“Don’t worry, Shixun.”
He stepped forward and wrapped his strong arms tightly around Yan Shixun, whispering in his lover’s ear: “As long as I’m where you are—that’s where I belong.”
“No matter how far I go, or what situation I’m in… As long as I know where you are, I will always find my way back.”
If the Great Dao stands in my way… then I will overturn it. It’s useless to me.
Ye Li lowered his head slightly, pressing close to his beloved’s neck, hiding the unwavering determination in his eyes.
Yan Shixun didn’t reject his embrace. Even though the warm breath brushing against his ear seemed to reach into his very heart—like feathers stirring the strings of his soul, making it beat faster—
He smiled and slowly raised his arms to hug Ye Li’s strong and upright body in return.
“I know,”
Yan Shixun whispered: “I also know you would never betray my trust. So… don’t hesitate. Do what you want to do.”
“If the Great Dao truly wants to destroy you—then I’ll bring you back. I’ll drag you back to my side.”
“Even if it’s from the deathtrap of the Great Dao.”
Ye Li was slightly stunned, his eyes widening slowly.
He had never expected that an exorcist—someone who made it his mission to protect the world—would one day be willing to stand against the Great Dao… for him.
The exorcist who had always been selfless and fair finally developed personal feelings of his own—he placed that person in his heart, equating him with the heavens and the earth.
A deep love born from ignorance of romance was all the more moving.
In that moment, all the background noise around Ye Li vanished. Within a blank silence, the only sound he could hear was the steady and powerful heartbeat of Yan Shixun.
Thump. Thump. Thump…
Each beat landed perfectly atop Ye Li’s own heartbeat, crashing into his very soul.
Just from that one sentence from Yan Shixun, Ye Li felt that even if he were to be reduced to ashes here, body destroyed and Dao obliterated, he would have no regrets.
Ye Li’s arms tightened gradually around Yan Shixun, as if he wanted to split open his own chest and place Yan Shixun directly into his heart—never to be separated, regardless of life or death.
For once, Yan Shixun didn’t push Ye Li away, despite their prolonged closeness.
But after a while, even though Ye Li was reluctant, he slowly released Yan Shixun.
With long, slender fingers, he cupped Yan Shixun’s cheeks, and with a gentle smile, lowered his head and pressed a kiss to them.
Their breaths mingled, their eyes met.
In that kiss, there was no heaven, no earth, no living beings—only two lovers named Ye Li and Yan Shixun.
“I’ll be back soon,”
Ye Li said softly, smiling. “Wait for me.”
The cave was dark and saw no daylight, shrouded in cold all year round.
Yet that embrace had been enough to dispel all chill and darkness.
Yan Shixun gave a gentle nod in response.
He remained standing where he was, holding the orb of light the King of Hell had given him, watching Ye Li turn around and walk into the darkness, his long robe trailing behind him.
The general, who had quietly observed all this, didn’t look away until Ye Li’s figure had completely disappeared. Then, he cast a deep, lingering glance at Yan Shixun.
Whether it was the me from a thousand years ago or the me a thousand years from now—no matter who I was—I would fall in love with you without hesitation, Shixun…
The general paused, but he never did speak those final words to Yan Shixun. He merely lowered his gaze, and after a long silence, let out a soft laugh.
In the next instant, his tall and upright form dissolved into countless specks of light, disappearing on the spot.
The general and Ye Li had always been two aspects of one being—the part of a mortal that the ghost deity refused to accept.
Since Ye Li had chosen to accept the trial, returning to the battlefield from a thousand years ago to walk the path of the Great Dao, the general naturally could no longer exist.
For them, only two outcomes remained:
One—Ye Li would succeed in overcoming his lingering scars and reunite his body and soul.
The other—he would die, body and Dao both vanishing.
The last ghost deity in the world also perished here, transforming into rain and drifting clouds.
No matter how one looked at it, this should have been the final meeting between the general and Yan Shixun.
Without Ye Li holding him back, the general could have confessed his feelings to Yan Shixun and taken the treasure while its guardian was gone.
But he said nothing at all.
Between all beings under heaven and Yan Shixun, the general had chosen the world.
He clearly saw the will of the Great Dao, understanding that it wished to leave behind a future possibility—
Even if the Great Dao collapsed, a new one could rise to uphold the heavens and protect all living things.
For that, the general willingly gave up everything—
Including his own existence, and his love for Yan Shixun.
He merged with the world.
After Ye Li’s presence disappeared, the smile on Yan Shixun’s lips slowly faded. He stood there in a daze, unexpectedly feeling a rare sense of loneliness, as though a part of his heart had gone missing.
Without even realizing it, he didn’t know when he had gotten used to having Ye Li by his side.
It had become so natural, as though whenever he turned around, Ye Li would always be there, smiling at him as if to say—
No matter the time, he was never alone.
In desperate battles and deadly traps, someone had always been there to face them with him.
That was a feeling Yan Shixun had never known before. But now, he understood it.
And he didn’t want to let it go.
The King of Hell looked calmly at Yan Shixun, the folding fan in his hand half-covering the faint smile at his lips. In his heart, he sighed. The Evil Spirit Bone Transformation, who had once been completely incapable of understanding love, had truly been melted by the Lord of Fengdu. A blade of hardened steel had turned into silk wrapped around a finger.
“With what I know about that guy, if he said it, he’ll keep his word,”
The King of Hell said with a laugh, folding his sleeves and standing still. “Rather than worrying about him, you should worry more about yourself, Yan Shixun.”
“From here on out, the road is yours alone. Neither Ye Li nor I can help you any further. However…”
He tilted his head slightly and chuckled. “The soul is meant to walk through life and death alone, isn’t it? What seems like an impossible miracle to others is something you’ve long grown used to.”
“So go on, Yan Shixun.”
The King of Hell gave him a slight nod. “I’ll be here, waiting for both of you to come back.”
Yan Shixun lowered his gaze and smiled faintly. “By the time I return, I suppose you won’t be the one I see here anymore, will you, King of Hell?”
The King of Hell raised his brows in mild surprise, then chuckled softly. “So you saw through me.”
“The ghost deity who died and faded into the Dao a hundred years ago—what’s the point of clinging so tightly to a mortal body now?”
He winked at Yan Shixun. “Though I exist nowhere, I am present everywhere.”
“Don’t worry. Your little fool will come back safe and sound.”
The King of Hell spread his hands and said calmly, “If I linger too long, it will harm his body. He’s not like you, an Evil Spirit Bone Transformation. He can’t withstand ghostly energy.”
From outside the cave came faint strange noises, mixed with the howling and growling of wolves.
Both of them heard it, but neither looked back. Instead, they exchanged a knowing nod and turned at the same time.
One cupped a glowing orb and walked resolutely into the deeper darkness of the cave.
The other smiled, gathered his sleeves, raised his eyes, and looked coldly at the moonlight spilling down from above.
“A full moon night, a corpse-raising night…”
The King of Hell murmured softly and gave a dismissive chuckle. “What storm can guilty vengeful spirits possibly stir up?”
His cloth shoes stepped lightly over jagged boulders, and the hem of his robe fluttered behind him.
He clasped his hands behind his back and walked forward with unhurried ease.
Behind him, it felt as though thousands of troops and beasts followed—fierce creatures roared and howled, brimming with immense power.
…
At a certain step into the darkness, Ye Li felt the ground beneath his feet suddenly sink, and he heard a faint sound near his ear before stepping into the void and falling into darkness.
When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he sensed was not the Great Dao of Heaven and Earth that he had long grown used to, but the lingering scent of blood that clung to the tip of his nose.
The power he had grown accustomed to as the Lord of Fengdu began to rapidly drain from his body.
Along with it, his memories faded—especially the smile of Yan Shixun that lived in those memories.
Ye Li knew then that he had stepped onto the battlefield of his past. The Great Dao was stripping him of his strength and memories, forcing him to walk the path to godhood again, alone.
He gazed longingly one last time at Yan Shixun’s image in his fading memory, murmuring his beloved’s name softly under his breath, but in the end, the sound scattered into the air and disappeared.
When Ye Li sat up, clutching his aching forehead, his memories had been completely wiped.
The towering Fengdu, the mighty banners of a hundred thousand ghost soldiers, the wailing of ten thousand spirits, the sea of fire and mountain of blades, the howls of hell and the clinking of chains—
All of it had vanished.
Standing here now was no longer the Lord of Fengdu.
Only a mortal general remained.
Ye Li propped his head with one hand and raised his eyes to coldly survey the surroundings.
The setting sun bled across the horizon, the air still thick with the smoke of battle. The soldiers atop the city walls never relaxed for even a moment, staring intently into the distance, their bowstrings fully drawn.
This war had dragged on too long. Supplies in the city had run out, and reinforcements were nowhere to be seen. Yet they had survived wave after wave of siege with sheer grit.
But now, their strength was nearly spent.
Ye Li had fought in countless battles across the land and had never known defeat. The rising powers feared him so much that they redirected massive amounts of manpower and resources just to eliminate him.
They were terrified that if he lived, the entire war could shift in his favor.
Even worse was the suspicion and slander coming from behind his lines.
Food and money had long since stopped arriving. Ye Li and his elite troops had been holding the line with nothing but sheer determination.
Still, every soldier knew in their heart what the most likely outcome of this battle would be.
Yet not a single one fled.
If the commander stood, the city stood. If the city stood, the people lived.
And as long as the people lived, the soldiers would fight.
The belief that kept them going was what Ye Li had declared: Not a single civilian shall die before we do. Even if it meant fighting until the last man, spilling the last drop of blood, they would never give up.
Even if their legs were severed and their arms broken, they would crawl forward, tearing flesh from the enemy with their teeth!
Ye Li narrowed his eyes. He felt as though there was someone in his memories—someone else who often bore grievous wounds, drenched in blood, and would never stop until the very end of battle.
For that person, unless it was the final moment of death, there was always a chance to turn the tide. Enough to deliver a counterstrike and reverse even the most hopeless situation.
But… who was that person?
In his mind, he only recalled a gaze that looked down with arrogance and wildness. It flashed by so quickly that Ye Li couldn’t make out the person’s face.
Yet in that instant, he clearly felt his heart pound violently, and a surge of uncontrollable love swell within him.
Ye Li instinctively reached out toward the air before him, as if to seize that fleeting image and find the one who had stirred his heart.
But he quickly realized—it might’ve just been a hallucination born from the brink of death. Even if it wasn’t, fate had doomed them to be apart. The dire battlefield offered no opportunity for reunion.
So the hand he extended froze in midair, then slowly withdrew and clenched into a powerless fist.
Behind him, the voices of civilians shouting and praying rang out, crying as they begged the army to abandon the city and save themselves. Don’t worry about us, Go find a way to live.
They understood it was the city’s elderly, weak, and sick who were dragging down this elite force. If not for their concern and efforts to protect the people, how could the soldiers have been so constrained, unable to fight freely?
Even on the most brutal battlefield, this army could have carved a bloody path and broken through.
But Ye Li hadn’t done that. Instead, he led his troops in a vow to protect every single life within the city, even at the cost of their own.
The civilians lifted their heads, looking up at the tall silhouette on the wall under the crimson sunset. With tears in their eyes, they bowed deeply, grateful for all that this general had done for them.
They wanted to join the soldiers in defending the city, but Ye Li had coldly turned them away, urging them to hide as best they could. He told them that even if all the soldiers died on the battlefield, they must find a way to survive.
The common people wept, cursing the heavens for turning a blind eye.
But the sound of a long, piercing war horn had already echoed from the distance—the thunder of a million iron hooves roared across the land.
Dust swirled in the air as Ye Li’s eyes sharpened like lightning, fixed straight on the forefront of the approaching army.
The enemy general held his head high, strutting arrogantly, convinced this would be an easy victory.
They had a million soldiers, elite troops with well-bred warhorses and ample supplies, while the other side was exhausted and starved, like a trapped beast lashing out in its death throes—barely worth a strike.
Ye Li let out a cold laugh, drew his bow, and nocked an arrow. The sharp arrow shot forth like a bolt of lightning.
It flew so fast it sliced through the air with a shrill crack.
The enemy general sensed something was wrong and looked up—but it was too late.
The arrow shot straight into his throat. Shock froze on his face—an expression that mixed disbelief with fading pride, contorted and grotesque. It was the last emotion he left behind for this world and the battlefield.
How… was that possible?
The enemy general stared at the tall, unyielding figure on the city wall in the distance. It was as if, through the dust and chaos, their eyes met. A chill spread through his entire body.
Only at the moment of death did he finally understand why everyone feared and revered this commander.
Over a hundred battles in his lifetime—never a single defeat.
As long as he was there, the rebel forces wouldn’t be able to cross even half a step beyond the borders.
The enemy general regretted everything. But it was already too late.
Powerless, he slowly toppled from his warhorse to the ground. Cries of alarm erupted all around. Horses neighed in panic and stamped the earth; dust filled the air.
The battle hadn’t even officially begun, yet the enemy’s million-strong army had already plunged into chaos.
Ye Li looked down at the confusion below the city wall and sneered as he slowly put away his heavy bow. He raised his strong arm and swung it down forcefully.
At once, the troops who had long lain in ambush around the area let out fierce battle cries and charged out, storming the enemy from all directions.
Already in disarray due to the death of their general, the enemy troops fell into even deeper confusion. Horses bucked and soldiers were thrown—completely unable to form ranks. Their once-imposing formation shattered into a scattered mess.
Enemy morale suffered one blow after another. Before they even fought, fear took root. As they raised their eyes to the flags of Ye Li’s forces fluttering atop the city wall, a sense of retreat was already growing in their hearts.
Was someone like him truly someone they could hope to defeat? That was no mere general—that was a god, a war god undefeated in battle!
Even with the situation turning in their favor, Ye Li didn’t relax in the slightest.
He had never been blindly confident. Constant vigilance and caution had always been the key to his victories.
Ye Li understood clearly: this was a desperate, bloody fight. Even though he and his soldiers had long set aside thoughts of survival, there was only a slim chance the civilians within the city could make it out alive.
His name, throughout the entire nation, was a symbol.
A symbol of unwavering stability.
Like a sea-calming divine needle, he anchored the prosperity and existence of the dynasty.
Anyone who wished to overthrow the old regime and take its place had only one path—kill him, and shatter the indomitable banner he represented in everyone’s hearts.
Ye Li knew that even if he could lead a hundred thousand soldiers to kill a million enemies, more would follow—like leeches clinging to them—until they collapsed.
On the battlefield, flesh and blood flew. The sounds of killing echoed to the heavens.
When the soldiers looked up, they saw their commander standing like a mountain—holding up the belief of them all, firm and unshakable.
Even a soldier pierced through the chest still smiled as he fell from his horse.
And above them stretched a blood-red sky, infinite in its height.
*“Splurt!”*
Ye Li closed his eyes briefly, then turned, stepped down from the city wall, and mounted his horse.
This life-or-death battle raged for three days and four nights.
Though the enemy had a million troops, abundant supplies, and constant reinforcements, it was still unimaginably hard to break through this elite force. Every inch forward cost tens of thousands of lives.
In the end, enemy soldiers fought with trembling hearts, unable to understand why these people resisted so fiercely. This army of wolves and tigers filled everyone with dread.
‘Because my elders and loved ones stand behind me. I have no way to retreat. If I retreat, it means death for the people.’
Tattered armor and blood-streaked bodies made the soldiers look like living corpses, yet they still pressed forward. Their swords pointed unwaveringly at the enemy. Their presence was so fierce that not one enemy dared to approach.
‘Behind me are the people I protect. How can I retreat…’
Corpses piled into walls. Rivers of blood flowed across the land.
On the smoke-filled battlefield, quiet finally returned on the fourth day, just as the sky began to lighten.
Ten thousand soldiers had faced a million enemies, yet they had held the line. Not a single enemy soldier set foot inside the city.
The million-strong army left their lives here as the price for their arrogance.
But Ye Li, too, had fallen in the pool of blood on the battlefield.
Corpses lay everywhere.
The people cried in fear, mourning Ye Li and the fallen soldiers, mourning the unending wars.
Yet when the sun rose, peace did not come.
What awaited them was another enemy army.
Without the protection of the soldiers, the city gates were easily breached.
A broadsword swung down from atop a warhorse—one strike, one life taken.
Flames engulfed every household. In their frantic escape, heads rolled. Blood streamed through the cracks in the stone-paved streets, merging into a river of red.
The daylight gradually faded, and the entire city lost its voice, leaving only the roaring flames still burning.
An arm stretched toward the sky from amidst the battlefield’s corpses, covered in blood and crisscrossed wounds, struggling to prop up a broken sword and rise with great difficulty.
Return, oh soul.
After death, the heroic spirits of the soldiers returned, re-entering their cold corpses, carrying with them the unresolved obsessions they had died for, wanting just one final look at the city they had perished to protect.
But what Ye Li and the soldiers saw was only a city filled with fallen corpses, lying pitifully in every corner, and the lingering embers left behind by the blaze.
The faces of the civilians still bore expressions of terror. Tears had washed away the soot on their faces, making their features barely recognizable.
There were women who had once smiled while handing out steamed buns to soldiers, elderly men who used to sit leisurely by the streets, and children who had skipped and bounced through the alleys…
But now, all of them had turned into cold, lifeless bodies.
The soldiers heard the souls of the civilians weeping, wanting to ask the heavens and the earth what wrongs they had committed, why things had come to this.
Ghost officials dragged chains as they approached, gazing condescendingly at the resentful spirits of the civilians and soldiers, and said that because they resented death, they were guilty.
Their sins were unforgivable.
Chains bound the souls as people roared in unwilling fury.
Yet it seemed there was nothing they could do.
How could mere humans contend with ghosts and deities?
Only Ye Li gripped the broken sword tightly in his hand, eyes blazing with fury.
“Are you going to Fengdu?”
A calm, magnetic voice came from behind.
Ye Li turned around slowly, his bloodshot eyes looking toward the sound.
The young man stood tall in a flowing robe, like a crane among men, radiating elegance and grace.
With sleeves folded, his refined and handsome face remained serene, as if he had long known what choice Ye Li would make.
The King of Hell quietly looked at Ye Li in front of him, as though seeing once more that moment from a thousand years ago.
The Lord of Fengdu, who had forgotten all memories, still bore the exact same fury and resolve as he had a millennium before—an unwavering conviction that had never changed.
He let out a faint sigh but, unlike a thousand years ago, made no attempt to persuade Ye Li. Instead, he slowly raised his arm and pointed southwest.
“The Fengdu you’re looking for is in the southwest.”
The King of Hell lowered his eyes and spoke blasphemous words with perfect calm:
“Kill the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, seize the authority over death, and you will be able to reshape death itself—allowing the vengeful souls to have their revenge, to soothe their anger, and move on to reincarnation.”
Lightning split the sky, thunder roared like a furious beast, and the earth trembled.
Blood slid slowly from the King of Hell’s lips, but he parted them in a grin and began to laugh.
“To me, I never believed the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor was right. Even if he was my superior, keeping the Underworld suppressed and paralyzed, I still held him in contempt.”
“Ye Li, I don’t think I’ve ever told you this—but in my eyes, death under your rule is what death should have looked like. The wronged would get justice, grudges would be repaid, blood debts paid in blood, life for a life.”
Blood stained his exquisitely embroidered robe, blossoming like a crimson flower.
Yet the King of Hell seemed oblivious, still standing before Ye Li, chuckling lightly:
“I haven’t cultivated enough to face with peace the one who killed me. Sorry, I’m just an ordinary ghost deity—not someone who’s reached the Great Dao’s transcendent state.”
“Maybe that’s precisely why the Great Dao never entrusted me with any major responsibilities. But I don’t mind.”
He shrugged and smiled. “To me, the cycle of cause and effect is the true path.”
“So then, Ye Li…”
He reached out and placed a hand on Ye Li’s chest, gently pushing him backward.
“Go kill the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor. Accept the you of the past. Become the new Great Dao.”
“You can choose differently from a thousand years ago. Don’t reject the part of you that was a general. The fall of the city and the people’s deaths weren’t your fault. What you did already went far beyond what any mortal could achieve. You did all that was humanly possible. But alas, fate refuses to let you go.”
Ye Li staggered back in stunned silence. The battlefield around him kept shifting, black mist roiling, dark clouds pressing down low, thunder roaring endlessly.
But it all felt like a broken TV screen—static flooding upward, blurring what was once real, hiding all the corpses and blood behind flickering mist.
The King of Hell, however, was still smiling.
“The sage is selfless, the divine is without merit, the saint is nameless.”
To the King of Hell, Ye Li had never done anything wrong. Even the massacre of Ye City, which had tormented Ye Li with regret for a thousand years, had not been his fault.
The Lord of Fengdu had always felt that he hadn’t done enough, never once considering himself in it all.
At that moment, the King of Hell couldn’t help but think—Ye Li was truly a lot like Yan Shixun…
He let out a silent sigh.
Under Ye Li’s wary gaze, the King of Hell spoke softly, “The one who is guilty is not the guardian—you—but the one who caused harm. Just as Yan Shixun once said, truly guilty people never reflect on themselves. Only those with goodness in their hearts feel remorse.”
“The you from the past shouldn’t be a scar—it should be the cornerstone of your future. You’ve witnessed death firsthand. You loathe the aloof indifference of the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, and that’s how you came to know exactly what kind of future you want. Your Dao is strong enough to carry you anywhere—even to the Great Dao.”
Blood trickled down from the King of Hell’s ears, and the blood in his throat turned his voice hoarse and raspy.
Yet he still smiled with ease, as if he didn’t care at all about his fragile state, bleeding from all seven orifices.
From the moment he interfered with the Great Dao’s trial for Ye Li, he knew the price he would pay.
But so what?
The King of Hell would never leave even the slightest chance that Ye Li’s soul would be destroyed.
Just like he had promised Yan Shixun—even in the worst situation—he would bring Ye Li back safely.
From the moment he escaped divine death a hundred years ago, severed his godhood and power to guard the Underworld, and stubbornly dragged a remnant of his soul into reincarnation in search of a chance to live, he had never intended to be an obedient child.
He understood and respected the Great Dao. But he didn’t trust it.
Just like he had never trusted the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor.
Even if he was merely a low-ranking ghost deity beneath the Dao, he still had his own power and freedom—to choose which Dao and world he believed in.
Ye Li and Yan Shixun gave the King of Hell hope.
So even if there was just a one-in-ten-thousand chance that Ye Li would make the same choice as he did a thousand years ago, the King of Hell would not let that happen.
“I don’t think I ever said I was someone who followed orders, did I? You knew that—so why are you so angry?”
The King of Hell chuckled softly, as if he were speaking to the Dao.
But as he laughed, blood foamed in his throat and he broke into a violent cough.
His pale hand, trembling as it covered his lips, was stained with a shockingly bright red.
Yet the King of Hell simply covered his mouth with his folding fan, smiling cheerfully at Ye Li. “Seasonal flu. Pardon the impropriety.”
But before Ye Li—who had already lost all his memories as a ghost deity—could even react, black mist had wrapped around him and swept him away from the battlefield.
In the blink of an eye, the once corpse-strewn battlefield was cleared completely.
No blood rivers. No ruined cities or smoldering ash. No stench of blood or smoke lingering in the air.
Only an endless expanse of open land, and above, layers of raging black clouds pressing down.
Heaven and Earth closed in, as if trying to kill the King of Hell.
Cold winds howled, whipping the King of Hell’s robes. Blood dripped onto the ornate embroidery, staining mountains, rivers, sun and moon.
Yet he only narrowed his eyes and slowly raised his head to gaze at the dark heavens above, utterly unmoved and unafraid.
Blood welled up beneath his eyes, streaking down his elegant face like tears of blood.
But the smile on his lips never changed.
“Don’t tell me you actually thought something like this would scare me?”
His voice was hoarse, but relaxed, even tinged with amusement. “Isn’t Ye Li the Dao you longed for? Isn’t Yan Shixun the spark of life you desired? Or did you think that if Ye Li died, Yan Shixun would keep holding up your Heaven and Earth like before?”
“Yan Shixun… is slow when it comes to feelings. But once he truly loves, he’ll never abandon it.”
The King of Hell sighed softly. “If Ye Li dies and his Dao is destroyed, then the most likely thing Yan Shixun will do is bring you down—find a new Dao to replace you. The world will still go on.”
He shrugged, smiling lightly. “I saved you. But don’t bother thanking me. I didn’t do it for you. I did it for all living things.”
He stood with his hands behind his back, letting the violent wind lash at his face, like blades cutting into his skin.
His disheveled hair blurred his vision, making it impossible to see how Ye Li looked now in faraway Northern Yin Fengdu.
But his task was already complete.
The King of Hell believed Ye Li wasn’t someone who clung to the past—he had just been hiding his scars, unwilling to show them.
Even after a thousand years, Ye Li’s divine soul had remained trapped in Ye City, unable to let go of the deaths of his people.
All Ye Li needed was one sentence—just one reminder from someone else to awaken him.
Then he could see this vast world clearly, and free himself from the cage.
That was the purpose of the Great Dao’s trial.
But the Dao had refused to explain, merely watching in silence—wanting Ye Li to find the right path by his own strength and become powerful enough to even replace the Dao itself.
Yet the King of Hell didn’t like the Dao’s way of saying nothing while expecting understanding.
He was a man of action. If that was what he wanted, then that’s what he would do.
Even if it meant burning the last of his soul for just one sentence—so what?
He was supposed to have died a century ago, alongside the old gods and the crumbling Underworld.
Now, with Yan Shixun in place as the new King of Hell and Ye Li ready to support the future world, there was nothing left for him to worry about. So what if he died?
King of Hell looked up at the sky with a bright smile, unafraid, ready to face the punishment for crossing the line.
“BOOM——!!”
Thunder crashed. The Dao was furious.
Yet in that blinding flash of light, the King of Hell only laughed with delight.
“This world—this Heaven and Earth—doesn’t belong to you alone. It belongs to all living beings!”
“The era of ghost deities is over. The world no longer needs ghost deties. Humans can care for themselves now. Ghost deities only need to guard the balance of life and death, so spirits don’t invade the mortal realm. But you, Great Dao… you’ve made me loathe you.”
“Let the living stand on their own!”
The King of Hell raised his folding fan and pointed it at the sky. The searing pain tearing through his soul weakened his smile, but the light in his eyes remained sharp as blades, bright as snow.
In the next moment, the fan that had always been clutched in his hand slipped free and fell toward the ground.
Yet even as the last shred of strength left him, the King of Hell never showed a hint of surrender. He simply chuckled softly and muttered, “You’re the one who gave me the chance to curse you…”
And at last, the King of Hell’s power was completely exhausted.
He slowly closed his eyes, opened his arms, and with a peaceful smile, let himself fall backward.
Like a crane spreading its wings, with a clear and mournful cry—
Soaring to the skies, defying the Dao.
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