Chapter 341: The Divine Tomb of the Underground Palace (28)
Little Yan Shixun did not like the marketplace.
From a very young age—when other children his age clamored to visit the bustling market—he had already sensed something strange. His parents always let go of his hand intentionally in the crowd, deliberately told him to wait in a certain spot and not to move.
He knew then that his parents wanted to abandon him.
For an ordinary, even mediocre family, having a child with exceptional talent was a burden—a disaster.
His parents didn’t know how to communicate with a prodigy. They couldn’t comprehend Yan Shixun’s world. They couldn’t see the vastness and grandeur reflected in the eyes of someone with the Evil Spirit Bone Transformation. Everything beyond their limited understanding terrified them. They feared bringing calamity upon their home.
It wasn’t their fault. It was simply that fate had not tied them together.
Little Yan Shixun watched his parents and relatives with cold eyes, seeing the fear in them, and thought to himself:
He didn’t belong here.
And yet… he didn’t know where he did belong.
He stood in the middle of the market, bewildered, letting the crowd bustle past him.
Then he saw—under the eaves not far off—a young man in a long robe, sleeves tucked in, smiling as he waved at him.
The young man was handsome, refined, and composed. His entire presence radiated a calm dignity that clashed with the chaotic market scene. Everyone instinctively avoided him. But for some reason, Yan Shixun felt drawn to him—as if something tugged at his very being, urging him closer. There was a strange, faint sense of familiarity.
“I’m used to seeing that big stinky face of yours, but who would’ve thought that the notorious Yan Shixun—who sends ghosts crying through the night—had such an adorable childhood?”
The young man’s gaze was filled with surprise, like he had stumbled upon a precious treasure.
When little Yan Shixun came closer, the young man extended his fair, slender fingers and gently pinched the boy’s still-chubby cheek. His expression turned to one of delight—
—As though he had just plucked a tiger’s whisker and lived to tell the tale.
“Ah, so soft,”
He chuckled, clearly pleased, showing no remorse for the red mark now on the child’s face.
He remained seated under the veranda and leisurely patted the spot next to him, gesturing for Yan Shixun to sit down.
“You won’t find Ye Li by standing there. Why not come sit with me instead?”
Then he said something that Yan Shixun didn’t understand: “We have plenty of time to chat. Until my strength runs out, we can spend it together here. Don’t worry—no one will disturb our time alone.”
The young man lowered his gaze to his open palm, and his voice grew quiet: “Until I turn to ashes and vanish, no one will come looking for me again.”
He subconsciously tapped a folding fan that was no longer there, forgetting that it had been lost long ago. The authority and remnants of power he once held had been obliterated under a heavenly tribulation, scattered into nothingness.
Habits built over thousands of years weren’t so easily changed.
The young man slowly withdrew his hand, smoothed his sleeves, and looked toward the market with a trace of melancholy.
At the very end of everything, to find a place like this wasn’t so bad. At least he could say goodbye to Yan Shixun, and when he finally dissipated, Yan Shixun would be there to see him off.
—Even if it was the younger version of him, that was still more than enough.
“Did you run away from home?”
The sudden question, calm and curious, caught the young man off guard. He choked on his breath and burst into a coughing fit, his eyes turning red, tears welling at the corners.
“What?”
He looked at the child beside him in disbelief. How could anyone think that the King of Hell had run away from home? Where had this ridiculous conclusion come from?
“When are your guardians coming to get you?”
Yan Shixun looked at him with serene, steady eyes, as if the young man were the child here: “I can stay with you for a little while. But once your guardians arrive, you should go home with them. The world outside is too dangerous.”
The King of Hell let out a laugh of disbelief. So this was what Yan Shixun was like as a child?
“You just told the King of Hell the world is dangerous.”
His gaze was full of wonder. “How did you come up with that? Isn’t it usually the King of Hell who’s dangerous to the world?”
“But in your eyes,”
Yan Shixun pointed to his own eyes and signaled toward the young man,
“I can see it—you’re clearly waiting for someone to come find you, to take you away from here. You’re not like me. You still have someone you trust, a place you want to return to.”
“My parents abandoned me. But yours didn’t. You still have a home.”
The King of Hell was stunned.
Though the boy was small, his eyes and his words carried a serious, earnest weight. He didn’t seem to be joking. It was like he was truly trying to persuade a “wayward” King of Hell. And every word he said seemed to carry its own reasoning and logic.
The King of Hell unconsciously touched the corner of his eye. It took him a while to pull himself out of his daze.
Maybe… the boy was right. Maybe he was hoping someone would come find him—like that version of Yan Shixun he knew. He hadn’t gotten the chance to properly say goodbye.
After all, they had faced life and death together, day and night. Even if he had to leave, it should have been with a solemn farewell.
Or perhaps… that little fool was still waiting there, silly and hopeful, for the day he could return to Yan Shixun’s side.
That subconscious thought leaked out through the corners of his eyes and the faintest movement of his brows, yet it was quickly caught by the sharp-eyed young boy in front of him.
The King of Hell slowly lowered his hand, a bitter smile tugging faintly at his lips. “You really are… just like Yan Shixun. Whether it’s the older one or the younger, both are sharp as a blade.”
“For someone who hasn’t even lived a fraction of my years, why do you seem more mature than me?”
He gave young Yan Shixun a light tap on the head with his knuckles and chuckled. “I’m thousands of years older than you, kid. Go on, call me dad.”
Little Yan Shixun: “…”
His eyes clearly said: This guy is so childish.
The King of Hell burst out laughing at that look. “What, you don’t believe me? I’m really the King of Hell.”
Yan Shixun’s gaze instantly shifted into something more pitying. He nodded, “Oh.”
The King of Hell. “Huh? Aren’t you at least a little excited? I mean, it’s not every day someone gets to meet the King of Hell.”
Little Yan Shixun turned his head away, clearly done looking at him. “The old man at the end of the alley said the same thing before he died — claimed he saw the King of Hell. And the snot-eating chubby kid next door says he’s actually Ultraman.”
“…………”
The King of Hell’s face went deadpan: Got it. This kid never believed me to begin with. He thinks I’m some nutcase.
He had originally felt a twinge of regret that he’d never seen Yan Shixun as a child — but now, he suddenly thought maybe it was for the best.
He used to assume Yan Shixun’s sharp tongue and temper came from studying under Taoist Li. But now he saw… no, this was just how he’d always been. That was Yan Shixun’s true nature.
Subconsciously, the King of Hell glanced back toward the bustling marketplace.
That boy, unnoticed and uncared for by the world right now — would, in twenty years’ time, save all of heaven and earth. He would uphold the crumbling Great Dao and bring everyone back from the brink.
What a pity. No one now could believe such a thing, and no one would bother to extend a helping hand to little Yan Shixun.
His eyes darkened, and for the first time, he truly understood Yan Shixun’s character.
No — more than that — what surprised him most was that, after going through all of this… Yan Shixun still chose to reach out and help all living things.
“You don’t have to care about the world you see in front of you, they can’t understand the vast heavens and the heights you’ve glimpsed. They have no idea there’s a world beyond this marketplace — a world much greater.”
The King of Hell said in a calm voice to little Yan Shixun: “One day, you will see a realm that no one else can. You will walk alongside the Great Dao. And the world will finally see how brilliant and extraordinary you truly are.”
Little Yan Shixun: “…Oh.”
King of Hell: “??? What is with you, kid? With that kind of response, I sound like a lunatic talking nonsense.”
Yan Shixun turned his face away. “The snot-eating chubby kid next door also says he’s going to save the world one day.”
“Don’t lump me in with that….. kind of kid!”
“Oh.”
“Stop saying that syllable!”
“…Heh.”
“…………”
The King of Hell let out a long, weary sigh. He felt like whatever peace he’d made with his own death had now been completely shattered by little Yan Shixun.
He had originally hoped he could just have a few quiet words with the boy before he left this world — a relaxed little conversation, then quietly passing on. He had never expected that Yan Shixun had been like this since childhood.
Thinking about how Ye Li had met little Yan Shixun here all those years ago… even though he hadn’t seen the scene himself, the King of Hell couldn’t help but feel sorry for Ye Li.
Poor guy. Who knew how badly he must have been roasted?
—But what the King of Hell didn’t know was: not only had little Yan Shixun not questioned Ye Li’s intelligence, he’d even given him a piece of candy.
At this point, the King of Hell felt like this kid was aggravating him so much, he might actually come back to life from sheer rage.
But he quickly composed himself again. The handsome lines of his face softened as he lowered his gaze, letting out a low chuckle.
To have this experience before his final death — he supposed it wasn’t so bad.
He knew full well what condition he was in.
No ghost or deity could survive the lightning of the Great Dao. What he now faced was the culmination of all the karmic consequences in heaven and earth.
When he had pointed Ye Li toward the trial and the path of the Dao, all the karmic repercussions of that choice had fallen onto him.
Ever since he’d escaped death a century ago, he had been burning through what little strength he had left, gritting his teeth, desperately searching for even the faintest sliver of hope in this world.
He knew Yan Shixun and Ye Li were the only chance of saving the world and restoring the Great Dao. So without hesitation, he had sacrificed himself here, fully aware of what he was walking into before stepping into the trial.
He was on a path of inevitable death. But he had no intention of turning back.
Because it was the right path — the one he had vowed to uphold.
As nothing more than a lingering soul, the King of Hell had held on long enough. He was tired.
But with Yan Shixun here, he finally felt at peace. He could now close his eyes without worry, entrusting everything behind him to Yan Shixun.
He slowly lowered his gaze, a faint smile curling at his lips.
But Yan Shixun was staring at him strangely. “You’re not going home?”
The King of Hell was startled for a moment, then let out a soft laugh. “No. I can’t go home anymore.”
“Most things in life don’t go as we wish — that’s just how it is. Even the King of Hell is just a minor ghost deity. Compared to all beings in the universe, what does that make me?”
“Even if it was indirectly… I can say, without guilt, that I saved this world. And now, my task is done. It’s time. In fact, this moment… was one I fought tooth and nail to reach.”
He smiled gently, adjusting the sleeves of his long robe embroidered with cranes and clouds. His long lashes dipped as he faced death calmly.
But little Yan Shixun blinked, then looked past the King of Hell toward the other end of the market. “Your guardian’s already come to pick you up.”
“You don’t belong here. Leave this world to me.”
Little Yan Shixun smiled. “Since you still have a place to return to — then remember to go home.”
The King of Hell stared at him in stunned silence, then suddenly realized something. He quickly turned to follow Yan Shixun’s gaze.
At the far edge of the market, two tall figures stood faintly in the distance.
One of them had sharp, striking features, and even through the heavy fog, he pierced him with his gaze.
Who else could it be but Yan Shixun?
The King of Hell’s heart skipped violently. For a moment, he was stunned—he hadn’t expected Yan Shixun to actually return for him through the trial grounds.
That was by no means an easy feat. As someone who had violated the rules, the time left to his remnant soul was already scarce. Even that sliver of time had been won back through his desperate struggle.
And yet, with the strength he had, he was no longer capable of leaving this trial ground.
But Yan Shixun… had come to take him back, on his own accord.
The King of Hell couldn’t help but think of that little fool, Zhang Wubing. During the years when he had been weak and unconscious, that idiot had, without a master, somehow figured out how to cling to a powerful thigh—holding tightly to Yan Shixun, the future of the Great Dao.
That little fool… had actually managed to do something clever for once?
As he returned to his senses, the King of Hell lowered his eyes and let out a soft laugh.
“Is this how well you know yourself? You knew you would come back to find me, so you told me to go home in advance?”
The King of Hell turned around with a smile, but in the next moment, that smile faded.
The little Yan Shixun who had just been sitting beside him had vanished during the brief instant he had looked away.
Before the King of Hell could turn back to look for him, Yan Shixun’s voice already rang out from behind him.
“You really look like you don’t want to go home. What’s wrong? Had too much fun out here?”
That voice was icy, carrying the calm just before a brewing storm.
The King of Hell blinked innocently and turned around.
Sure enough, Yan Shixun was standing right behind him.
Shrinking the earth into inches—so not only had Ye Li passed the trial, but Yan Shixun had also taken up the mantle of the Great Dao.
Seeing everything unfold just as he had hoped, a smile spread through the King of Hell’s eyes.
But the most astonished of all was undoubtedly Jing Xiaobao, who had been carried along like a detection rabbit in Yan Shixun’s hand.
Jing Xiaobao scrutinized the King of Hell up and down, full of awe.
It was his first time seeing the previous King of Hell. He hadn’t expected Yan Shixun to be telling the truth—the King of Hell really did have the exact same face as Zhang Wubing.
But this face didn’t carry Zhang Wubing’s silly smile. There were no tears, no timid expressions. It was as if he had cast off all unnecessary emotions, becoming calm and steady. Between those graceful and composed brows and eyes, there was a deep certainty, unmoved even if Mount Tai were to collapse before him.
Even in the face of death, he remained composed.
It was as if all variables lay within his grasp, and nothing could shake him.
Jing Xiaobao found it incredible. Clearly it was the same face, yet due to the shift in aura and expression, the former King of Hell and Zhang Wubing seemed like two entirely different people.
He stared curiously at the King of Hell from up close, even itching to spar with him just to see how it would feel.
But Yan Shixun swatted him with one palm, instantly dispersing all those thoughts.
Jing Xiaobao pouted, looking on the verge of tears, feeling utterly wronged.
“I didn’t think… you would actually come looking for me.”
After a moment of silence, the King of Hell smiled once again and said, “I thought you knew well—under heavenly thunder, there is no return.”
“I’ve already done everything I should have. I have no lingering regrets. Even if I leave now, there’s nothing I would regret. What’s the point of going back?”
He gently folded his sleeves and laughed, as if life and death didn’t matter to him at all. In front of Yan Shixun, he didn’t show the slightest trace of reluctance or sorrow that he had earlier shown the young boy.
But Yan Shixun looked down at the King of Hell from above and scoffed, “You’ve done everything you should have? That’s news to me. Don’t tell me you thought that saving everyone meant your task was complete?”
The King of Hell looked at him, for once a bit lost, as if to ask: Is there something I missed?
“And what about you, King of Hell?”
Yan Shixun asked. “Aren’t you one of all living beings too? You saved everyone—yet let yourself die?”
“Are you not a living being? Isn’t there someone waiting for you? You…”
His Adam’s apple moved up and down as he choked back the tightness in his throat. “You’ve never once thought about yourself, have you?”
The King of Hell was stunned by the question.
It was a long while before he slowly came back to himself, and within his dazed brows and eyes, a gentle smile gradually bloomed.
“With just that one question from you… it’s already worth more than all the world. It’s enough.”
The King of Hell let out a soft sigh of contentment.
Someone was waiting for him to return. Even a remnant soul who had walked alone against the heavens for a hundred years… now had a home.
What could be more joyous than that? With just that one sentence, it was enough to comfort a thousand years of perseverance and solitude.
The King of Hell let out a low laugh and patted the spot next to him, saying, “I once deeply regretted that I never got to see you as a child. I missed that thread of vitality. I didn’t believe that a Great Dao vitality could arise from someone with an Evil Spirit Bone Transformation. I thought it was another mistake by the Great Dao. After all, when I stood beside the last person with that trait, all I got in return was an empty future.”
“But after seeing you… I realized I was wrong. That thread of vitality truly is enough to save the Great Dao from its crisis.”
The King of Hell calmly gazed at the bustling market before him and softly said, “Now, I have no more regrets. Yan Shixun, thank you.”
What did it matter if one lived for a hundred or even a thousand years? Nothing compared to the fulfillment of resolving a lifelong obsession before death.
He had lived long enough—he had witnessed dynasties rise and fall, the fortunes of the world shift, and the duality of good and evil in humanity. The only thing he had been unable to let go of was this mortal world.
But now, with Yan Shixun present, he could finally leave in peace.
He knew that even after his departure, Yan Shixun would watch over this vibrant world, ensuring no evil spirits would harm the living.
Yan Shixun furrowed his brows. Something in the King of Hell’s words triggered a sudden realization. He focused his mind and examined the King of Hell’s soul carefully—and then he froze.
Sitting there, the King of Hell’s power was quietly seeping out, his soul weakening rapidly.
Although he still appeared calm and composed, there was no denying it—he could dissipate at any moment.
Even though he had narrowly escaped under the Great Dao’s judgment, karma still demanded its due.
Yan Shixun fell silent.
No one spoke first.
A gentle breeze blew past like the onset of spring—warm and comforting.
The voices of the crowd filled the market with a lively energy. Under the clear sky, everything seemed unmarred by sorrow.
The King of Hell narrowed his eyes, allowing the breeze to brush against his face, seemingly intoxicated by the breath of spring.
Yan Shixun bent slightly, setting down the child Jing Xiaobao in his arms, then walked over and sat beside the King of Hell, shoulder to shoulder, watching the noisy life beyond the eaves.
“Can’t you stay?”
He asked softly. “Even though the current Great Dao is me.”
The King of Hell turned slightly to glance at him, smiling. “Yan Shixun, the moment you asked that, you should’ve known better than anyone that without rules, there is no Dao. If you show favoritism for my sake, you’re denying my efforts and proving you’re unworthy of the Dao.”
“You’re the sky I spent my soul trying to lift, Yan Shixun. Don’t let me down.”
The King of Hell patted his shoulder casually, then slowly stood up, drawing his sleeves together as he looked off into the distance.
The sky far away had begun to churn with blood-red storm clouds. Thunder rumbled in the distance, booming ominously.
As long as the King of Hell lived, the trial would not end. Nothing could conclude.
Yan Shixun also saw the strange phenomenon in the sky. He parted his lips, wanting to say something, but in the end, faced with the King of Hell’s smiling gaze, all his words turned into a long, drawn-out sigh.
He had to—again and again—make choices between his own personal emotions and the lives of all beings.
Today’s peace and vitality were built upon the sacrifices of the King of Hell and countless others, people who had marched to their deaths to uphold the Dao.
If he chose to protect the King of Hell, it would be a betrayal of all life, erasing the merits of those who had perished.
He…
Could not choose that.
Yan Shixun’s hand, hanging by his side, trembled slightly. In the end, he clenched it into a fist and gritted his teeth to endure.
The storm clouds and thunder surged closer. The market scene faded like mist, replaced by a torrential downpour.
Ye Li couldn’t help but step forward, as if trying to stop the King of Hell.
But the King of Hell smiled at him, a calm gaze halting Ye Li in his tracks.
“It seems I’ve never said this before.”
He spoke softly. “A thousand years ago, when you killed the Northern Yin Fengdu Emperor, I was truly happy. Death was finally changed. When the new Fengdu rose from the earth, I realized then that imperfect death was the future I truly hoped for.”
“The underworld never had the power to rival Fengdu, but because you allowed it, billions of souls had a chance to resist. Thank you. That was the best millennium I’ve ever lived.”
The King of Hell curved his lips in a small smile, nodding toward Ye Li in gratitude.
“And now, it’s time to say goodbye.”
“I should have died a hundred years ago. I only stayed because I couldn’t bear to leave the human world. Now… it’s time I retire.”
The King of Hell lowered his gaze to the curious little Jing Xiaobao who was watching him.
When he learned that the new King of Hell was that same Evil Spirit Bone Transformation ghost who had once died, he had initially been shocked. But over time, he came to understand the deeper intent behind Yan Shixun’s decision. He realized that Yan Shixun was far more suited to inherit the world than he had ever imagined.
To guard the underworld and Fengdu, to bridge death and life, to breathe vitality back into the world—
Even if he had stayed, he would not have done better than Yan Shixun.
Since that was the case, what point was there in clinging to his existence? As long as the world remained intact… what did it matter if his name was remembered or not?
To complete the work and not claim it—this was enough.
The King of Hell’s gaze swept past Ye Li and Yan Shixun, then turned back. He stood amid the rain, raising his head to look toward the sky.
Then, he slowly began to walk forward.
Yan Shixun’s fingers dug into his own flesh, keeping himself from impulsively rushing up to drag the King of Hell back.
His tall figure trembled from restraint. His eyes reddened, and tears shimmered faintly.
BOOM!
BOOM——!
Thunder crashed down, splitting the air and trailing streaks of fire, an unstoppable force like ten thousand mountains collapsing.
The fierce wind lifted the King of Hell’s long robes, the hems whipping violently in the air, his hair swirling, blurring his vision.
The dazzling light illuminated his striking face, like a god standing high upon a divine altar, gazing down upon the world with compassion and tenderness.
Yet he had never been a silent clay statue. He had always walked hand in hand with death, lifting drowning souls from rivers, standing tall beneath the heavens.
The King of Hell turned his head slightly, and beneath the roaring thunder, he smiled as he looked at Yan Shixun.
“To have the chance to say goodbye to you was already my fortune. This time I’ve stolen by sheer luck… it’s time I returned it to the Great Dao. From now on, there will be no more loopholes between heaven and earth.”
“Yan Shixun.”
With a faint smile, he called Yan Shixun’s name one last time. “I have no place to return to, but that little fool does. I’ll give him back to you—”
“Boom—!!!”
Yan Shixun’s eyes slowly widened. His hand instinctively reached forward with all its might, trying to pull the King of Hell back.
But ninety-nine bolts of lightning struck down, the earth quaked violently, and the sky collapsed.
The King of Hell’s figure disappeared into the blinding light of the thunder.
The entire trial ground quickly disintegrated. Heaven and earth crumbled. Everything turned to dust, and darkness crept in from all directions, devouring everything.
Yan Shixun suddenly felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. A sensation of weightlessness washed over him as he plunged into the dark.
“Zhang Wubing—!”
…
“!”
Yan Shixun’s eyes snapped open. His brain was still carrying out the last command before losing consciousness. Instinctively, he dashed forward.
But he quickly realized that the surrounding forest matched his memory—it was the village outside the trial ground.
Behind him came the rustling of tree branches and the sound of approaching footsteps.
The rescue team had already taken care of the other side of the mountain village and was heading this way. As they pushed through the forest, they were stunned to find Yan Shixun—who had just vanished without a trace—standing completely still beneath a tall tree.
The team members found it odd and stepped forward to ask him.
But when Yan Shixun turned around, they saw a flash of tears in his eyes.
They were shocked.
In their memory, Yan Shixun was the kind of person who wouldn’t cry even if the sky fell. No matter how dangerous or difficult the situation, he always toughed it out. What on earth could have happened to move him like this…?
“Mr. Yan?”
A team member approached with concern. “Do you need help?”
Yan Shixun stood there in a daze for a moment, then slowly shook his head. “No need.”
The King of Hell, Zhang Wubing…
Just then, someone nearby cried out, “Huh? There’s someone there! The bushes are moving!”
“Quick, go check! It might be a survivor from the village!”
Yan Shixun also heard the shouting, but his mind was still trapped in the shock and grief of witnessing the King of Hell’s death. His thoughts wandered: how could there still be survivors from the village? They must either be dead or already reincarnated…
But gradually, something clicked. His eyes flew open wide.
He quickly turned and looked toward where the team members were running.
In the swaying grass, a faint figure was barely visible. The person had their eyes shut tight and looked unconscious.
But that face—was unmistakably familiar to Yan Shixun.
He had seen that face laughing and crying, frowning with worry and smiling with joy, always by his side through every important moment.
That person… was clearly Zhang Wubing.
The moment that realization hit, Yan Shixun’s body moved before his mind could catch up. He took off running toward Zhang Wubing.
Zhang Wubing was still wearing the same clothes he had worn during their journey to the southwest. His body was covered in scrapes and dust, looking battered and miserable. His eyes remained tightly shut, and the rise and fall of his chest was so faint it was almost undetectable. His hair was a tangled mess across his cheeks, and his breath was shallow.
The rescue team was startled. They didn’t know what had happened to Zhang Wubing to leave him in this state. Unable to assess his injuries, they didn’t dare move him and stood around helplessly, quickly contacting the medical team to come assess the situation.
The closer Yan Shixun got to Zhang Wubing, the more uneasy he became. His hands trembled. He didn’t dare to check Zhang Wubing’s condition, terrified that what he might feel would be a cold, lifeless corpse.
There might still be a sliver of hope. Or perhaps… the heavens wouldn’t even grant him that tiny mercy. Whatever the outcome, the moment he reached out to confirm it, everything would be set in stone.
Making a choice had always been difficult—every consequence had to be borne by the one who chose.
Yan Shixun had never feared bearing the consequences of his choices. But now, he suddenly didn’t want to face the future he had chosen with his own eyes. He knew he had to. He knew that one life couldn’t be weighed against the world. But… this was his Xiao Bing.
The rescue team sensed the sorrow and heaviness radiating from Yan Shixun. They fell silent, slowly stepping aside to clear a path for him to walk toward Zhang Wubing.
No one asked what had happened. The grief on Yan Shixun’s face had already given them the answer.
Some of the team, unable to bear the sight, turned away, sniffling to hold back their tears.
And at that moment, Zhang Wubing’s condition finally came into clear view for Yan Shixun.
The playful Xiao Bing. The silly Xiao Bing with a goofy smile. The Xiao Bing who cheered with joy when their show succeeded. The Xiao Bing who sobbed and screamed for help when scared… Every bright, lively expression had vanished. All that remained was Zhang Wubing lying motionless in the grass, covered in wounds.
Yan Shixun slowly squatted down beside Zhang Wubing. His outstretched hand trembled over and over, but he couldn’t bring himself to grasp Zhang Wubing’s wrist.
Ye Li walked up behind him and silently placed a hand on his shoulder, hoping to offer him some comfort and strength.
Yan Shixun gave a bitter smile. He closed his eyes for a moment, then finally made up his mind and took hold of Zhang Wubing’s wrist.
His slender fingers found the pulse—his fingertips touched something soft and faintly warm.
Even though the pulse was weak, it still beat on, stubborn and unyielding.
A spark of joy instantly lit up in Yan Shixun’s eyes, and at the same time, the heart that had been hanging in suspense finally settled back into his chest.
After confirming that Zhang Wubing was still alive, Yan Shixun quickly bent down and examined his condition. One hand gripped his wrist tightly, and he began channeling a continuous stream of life force into his meridians, helping his body to begin self-repair and restore its heartbeat.
The deathly pale color slowly faded from Zhang Wubing’s face. Bit by bit, it turned rosy. The pain-twisted brows and eyes gradually relaxed, his breathing grew steady, and his pulse began to beat strongly again.
At last, he gave a few weak coughs, his lashes trembled violently, and his consciousness clawed its way back from the darkness into his body.
Zhang Wubing struggled to open his eyes, but a deep weakness and exhaustion from his very soul kept pulling him down, trying to drag him into an even deeper abyss.
But then, a powerful force suddenly shoved him forward. He thought he heard someone speaking to him—
‘Go on—Yan Shixun is waiting for you.’
‘I can no longer return. But at the very least, I can save you.’
Zhang Wubing felt himself pushed, stumbling into a field of light. The sunlight that greeted him was so blinding that he couldn’t fully open his eyes. He could only peer upward through the gaps in his eyelashes.
Then, he saw a handsome face, full of urgency and worry.
It was… Brother Yan!
A surge of emotion instantly flooded Zhang Wubing’s heart. He desperately tried to lift his hand, wanting to grab hold of Yan Shixun, who was just within reach.
But his weakened body wouldn’t allow even this simple action. All he could do was look at Yan Shixun with longing in his eyes.
The moment he opened his eyes, Zhang Wubing felt an overwhelming flood of grievance and sorrow well up from within. It was as if he had endured something terribly tragic in a dream—yet had been utterly powerless to stop it.
Tears welled up and poured from his eyes like a broken faucet, streaming down his cheeks and soaking into his clothes.
His trembling hand, reaching toward the sky, began to fall powerlessly—until another hand caught it firmly.
Yan Shixun held tightly onto Zhang Wubing’s hand, staring steadily at this foolish boy who started crying the moment he woke up. Only after a long while did a gentle smile spread across his face.
“Why are you crying? Didn’t you make it back?”
Just like a lost child who, no matter how stubbornly they wandered thousands of miles, would burst into tears the moment they saw their parents—the moment they felt safe again, all the bottled-up grievances came spilling out.
Fortunately, Yan Shixun’s embrace had always been strong and reliable, enough to let Zhang Wubing cry without restraint. He cried until every ounce of fear had been drained from him, until he could finally return to peace.
Yan Shixun reached out and gently lifted Zhang Wubing up from the cold, damp ground.
He cradled Zhang Wubing in his arms, looked one last time in the direction of the cave, and then turned to walk toward the other side of the mountain.
The consciousness of the King of Hell had already been destroyed under the divine thunder of the Great Dao. Once targeted by the Dao, there was no escape. But Zhang Wubing was different.
The one who warned Ye Li inside the trial field had not been the living Zhang Wubing—it had been the lingering soul of the King of Hell.
The King of Hell had used this subtle difference, and through the bond between Zhang Wubing and Yan Shixun, sent Zhang Wubing back to the living world. As for himself, he had laughed boldly and gone to meet death.
From then on, the King of Hell’s soul no longer existed in the world. Only the living Zhang Wubing remained.
Yan Shixun’s grip on Zhang Wubing tightened slightly as a heavy weight settled in his heart.
But from the other side of the mountain came the sounds of laughter—cheerful voices of guests and team members, the hearty chuckles of the Taoists. Everyone was rejoicing in the restored peace and balance of the world.
Yan Shixun came to a stop and quietly gazed at this peaceful, happy world.
Beyond the realm of ordinary people, in a world few ever explored, countless others had fought to protect that safety and joy. Some had paid the price with their lives just to secure a tranquil life for others.
Those who had died—those who had given everything—had not done it for fame or gain, but for all living beings.
It was upon their sacrifice that a new world had been raised high, where Heaven and Earth once again returned to order and Yin and Yang regained their balance.
The sun stood tall above, never to fall.
Yan Shixun withdrew his gaze. His eyes were calm.
“Let’s go… we’re going home.”
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