Chapter 60: The King of Hell’s Wedding (40)
The return trip took another two hours. Jian Yuntai closed his eyes on the carriage, pretending to nap, but his mind kept replaying everything from the instance—Cui Yu adding dishes for him, the table piled high with meat.
Actually, he wasn’t picky about food, nor did he have a particular craving for rich dishes. But eating meat helped replenish energy, allowing the Red Lotus to grow faster. So he usually started each meal with meat. Perhaps this was what caused some misunderstandings—Cui Yu always made sure extra meat was prepared at every meal.
For example, during the first round of the instance, Cui Yu had descended into the Ice Mountain Hell for him, holding him close to keep him warm. Descending into the Eighteen Levels of Hell for the Yin Officials was basically like burning one’s own soul. Yet Cui Yu had done it without hesitation. Afterwards, fearing Jian Yuntai would feel pressured, he had chosen to keep it a secret.
Countless incidents like this occurred.
On matters of life and death, if Cui Yu had done Jian Yuntai a favor, Jian Yuntai only thought about how to repay it, so that neither of them would owe the other. But when these little acts accumulated, one by one, he had no idea how to repay them.
He could only be moved—and hesitate.
No one had ever treated Jian Yuntai like this before. If Cui Yu weren’t an NPC in the instance…
A sharp “screech” from the carriage interrupted his chaotic thoughts. The ghost carriage jolted violently. Jian Yuntai’s racing mind went completely blank. Without a word, he stepped off the carriage first.
Glancing at the horizon, it was still a gray haze. Judging by the time, the sun would rise in roughly an hour.
Jian Yuntai followed Cui Yu, crossing the courtyard and passing through the corridors, his face still slightly pale.
Even the ghost officials could sense something was off with his mood. They clustered behind, whispering among themselves.
“They went out on a date, right? Why does Lord Xiao Jian seem even less happy than before?”
“Looks like he has something on his mind.”
“Did the two of them argue outside?”
“No!”
The ghost officials grew even more puzzled.
From this distance, Jian Yuntai could vaguely hear them talking. He forced a smile and looked at Cui Yu. “The Yin Law Division office is open today. I’d like to go with you.” Tonight had been full of revelations; it would be best to share them with Cha Huafeng and the others.
His face bore a smile, but his eyes held none.
Cui Yu glanced at Jian Yuntai for several seconds. “You haven’t rested tonight. Why not take proper rest during the day?”
Jian Yuntai immediately shook his head. “I don’t need rest.” It was the truth—after evolving, he could go days without sleeping, feeling only mild fatigue. But fearing Cui Yu might refuse, he quickly added, “You haven’t rested either, yet you’re still going to the office. I can’t let you suffer alone.”
Cui Yu’s eyes brightened slightly, a hint of joy surfacing. “You mean… you want to accompany me?”
“Ah.” Jian Yuntai cleared his throat. “Something like that.”
Moonlight had been veiled in a faint shadow. A soft breeze rolled through their hair, drifting further away. Cui Yu’s white hair was even more radiant than the moon, as if bathed in holy light, still as a painting of a banished immortal.
In motion, his long eyelashes dipped slightly, his pale pupils fixed on Jian Yuntai, as if in that moment the world consisted only of him, tucked into the softest corner of his heart.
After a long while, Cui Yu pressed his lips into a faint smile. “Then come. If anything feels off, send someone immediately to call me.”
“All right…”
Jian Yuntai pursed his lips and slowly exhaled. Though he smiled, it was a forced one.
Even at this early hour, over a hundred thousand viewers still watched the livestream, their bullet comments scrolling rapidly:
“Sigh, Jian Dadan must be under so much pressure now. The better Cui Yu treats him, the less he can act freely. Step 4 of the side quest is like a knife hovering over his neck. Every second before it falls is pure torture!”
“Every time I see the beautiful Cui Yu staring brightly at Jian Yuntai, I feel like crying. Ahhh, I can barely watch. What if Cui Yu shows his weakness without restraint—he’s trusting someone with his whole heart for the first time in his life, only to be betrayed?”
“Oh god, why would you say that? I can’t even imagine how Cui Yu must have felt, his expression and gaze—it just breaks my heart.”
“Being betrayed by the person you trust most, having your weakness cut off by the one you love—just before death, the despair must be unimaginable…”
“Stop, I’m scared. I already have tissues ready; tomorrow I’ll cry so badly 555555”
“Tissues +1”
As he stepped into the bedroom courtyard, a ghost official rushed over, flustered. “My lord! Something’s happened!”
Jian Yuntai had never wanted to hear the words “something’s happened” more. The last time was when Fatty had gotten into trouble.
He spoke before Cui Yu. “What happened?”
“Lord Sun Bin… he… seems… off!”
“???”
Jian Yuntai froze, feeling as if a weight had instantly sunk to the bottom of his chest.
Following the ghost official, he hurried to Sun Bin’s room. From afar, the frantic footsteps and frantic whispers of the ghost officials reached his ears:
“How could he suddenly end up like this?”
Creak—
The guest room door swung open.
Figures crowded inside, standing unevenly. Through the gaps, Jian Yuntai glimpsed Sun Bin buried under the covers, trembling, clutching the blanket. Blood covered the floor, and as soon as he stepped in, the overpowering stench of iron hit him.
“…”
Sun Bin’s gaze was vacant, his face pale as a ghost. He hadn’t even noticed Jian Yuntai had returned, murmuring to himself in words no one else could understand.
“Everyone out,” Cui Yu said in a low voice.
The moment he spoke, the ghost officials in the room immediately bowed and began to retreat in an orderly manner. Within minutes, only Sun Bin, Jian Yuntai, Cui Yu, and the ghost steward—sweating nervously by the side—remained.
Cui Yu looked at the ghost steward, his tone cold. “What is he saying?”
The ghost steward spun anxiously, stammering, “I… I don’t know… Lord Sun Bin suddenly became like this about two hours ago. He doesn’t recognize anyone and keeps mumbling to himself… something about a marriage… a wedding date?”
“…………”
Jian Yuntai’s heart no longer felt like a sinking weight—it was as if a solid block of ice had taken its place. Cold seeped upward through him, and soon his hands and feet went numb.
He stepped forward and pulled back Sun Bin’s blanket, focusing to listen carefully.
Sure enough…
Sun Bin wasn’t talking about a wedding at all—he was talking about a soul contract!
Before entering the instance, the livestream team had already warned the streamers. Countless players had been trapped inside, unable to leave the instance. The few who had escaped acted as if insane: no matter what others asked, they would only repeat two words—
“—soul contract… soul contract.”
It was obvious: Sun Bin’s soul contract value had dropped to zero.
How could this happen?!
The ghost steward sighed. “Perhaps Lord Sun Bin was shocked by Destined Official Zhang. That might explain why he’s acting abnormal. Otherwise, why would he keep mumbling about a wedding date?”
“……” Jian Yuntai turned his head slowly, his anger barely contained. “Has Zhang Zhiyan been here?”
The ghost steward flinched at the murderous intent in his eyes, pausing for several seconds before answering. “He… he’s been here! He’s still in the front hall, worrying about Lord Sun—”
Before he could finish, thudding footsteps sounded—
Jian Yuntai passed the ghost steward like a shadow, his face expressionless, and strode toward the front hall.
“Hey—” The ghost steward tried to block him, but Cui Yu’s gaze shifted faintly, and the steward froze in terror.
Black boots struck the stone floor, each step seeming to carry immense force. “Zhang! Zhi! Yan!”
With a loud ‘thud,’ Jian Yuntai kicked open the door. Facing Zhang Zhiyan’s pale, horrified face, his gaze was as cold as ice.
“What did you do to Sun Bin?”
※※※
Yin Law Division.
The side hall was deathly silent, the atmosphere strange and heavy.
Sun Bin sat on the floor, clutching a small blanket, his expression blank and sluggish, reacting far slower than an ordinary person.
Everyone’s faces were grave, except Fatty, who, ever simple-minded, grinned and teased Sun Bin.
“Repeat after me: I’m an idiot.”
Sun Bin, with a vacant look, muttered, “You’re an idiot.”
“…?” Fatty gasped, panicking. “No, not you! I! I’m the idiot!”
Sun Bin, slow to respond, finally said, “Yes… it’s you.”
“…………” Fatty looked around at the nearby players, astonished. “Has his soul contract value really dropped to zero?! Why do I feel like he’s actually smarter than before?”
On the fourth day, the number of people in the hall had halved again.
Many veteran players secretly observed the streamers.
It was remarkable: from day one, the veteran players and the streamers had stood on opposite sides of the hall.
In the first few days, the veterans far outnumbered the streamers, crowding into corners, making the hall lively. But as days passed, the streamers hadn’t decreased in number, while the veteran players had already lost over half their ranks.
Was this what it meant to be a “boss” in this world?
“They’re so united, sticking together through the instance.”
“That’s normal, right? There’s no direct conflict of interest in the instance. Sticking together is safer. I wish I could join them… sigh. That’s why so many people want to be in the livestream team. In instances like this, you’re not fighting alone—you’re part of a collective. It feels so much safer.”
“Who’s the leader among these streamers?”
“He Qingzhou, I think. His livestream rank is the highest.”
“No, no, it should be Cha Huafeng. Even if you multiply He Qingzhou’s IQ by two—or three—he still wouldn’t match Cha Huafeng.”
The veteran players whispered and exchanged opinions quietly.
As everyone settled, the streamers’ positions began to reveal themselves.
Sun Bin was surrounded in the center, two Sinister Monster Type streamers holding him down on a chair. Sun Bin didn’t resist; he sat obediently, his pupils vacant.
Other streamers either sat or stood, frazzled, constantly tugging at their hair in frustration.
One chair, clearly the central spot, sat directly opposite Sun Bin. The remaining chairs were skewed around it.
Amid the curious glances of the veteran players, He Qingzhou walked in from outside the hall. Without glancing at the central chair, he went straight to Sun Bin and asked in shock, “What’s wrong with him?”
Fatty shrugged. “He’s gone dumb.”
He Qingzhou’s surprise deepened. “But hasn’t Sun Bin been staying with Jian Yuntai? Where’s Jian Yuntai?”
Fatty shrugged again. “Don’t know. After sending Sun Bin over, he rushed out and hasn’t come back yet.”
He Qingzhou chose a seat for himself—but not the central one.
The veteran players exchanged knowing looks—He Qingzhou wasn’t the leader.
It seemed the real leader had to be Cha Huafeng.
Yet to everyone’s surprise, Cha Huafeng entered the hall, paused briefly, and casually walked to the opposite side to sit.
“Huh? Cha Huafeng isn’t the leader either?”
“Could it be… they don’t have a leader at all?”
“For such a large streamer group in an instance, how could there be no leader?!”
Tap… tap…
Tap… tap…
At that moment, footsteps sounded again outside the hall.
When Jian Yuntai entered, only the central chair remained empty.
Under the astonished gaze of the veteran players, Jian Yuntai walked straight to the chair, never looking around, and sat down.
His delicate, pale face remained expressionless. Casually, he lifted the teacup from the table and asked flatly, “Whose tea is this?”
Fatty replied, “Mine… haven’t drunk it yet.”
Jian Yuntai looked at him. “Can I drink it? I’m parched from being out. I can make you a new cup later.”
“Just drink it,” Fatty said, rolling his eyes. “Make me a new cup later, thank you.”
“No need for thank,” Jian Yuntai said with a faint smile, lowering his eyes slightly to stir the tea leaves floating in the cup.
He raised the cup and calmly sipped the tea.
From start to finish, every gaze in the room was fixed on him, as if everyone were waiting for something to happen.
Just as all the veteran players were wondering if the streamers were politely ceding the central position out of modesty—and as Jian Yuntai, being so young, didn’t understand such unspoken adult rules—
‘Clang!’ A crisp sound rang out as the empty teacup hit the rosewood table. With calm and casual composure, as if asking “what’s for dinner tonight,” Jian Yuntai spoke evenly: “Last night, I triggered the Yin Officials’ Third Taboo.”
“?!” The words caused an immediate uproar.
The side hall, previously so quiet, seemed like a still lake disturbed by a thrown boulder; ripples of shock spread instantly.
He Qingzhou froze, his voice cracking: “What the—are you serious?!”
After him, the other streamers reacted as if it were a festival, their joy spilling openly. Even someone like Cha Huafeng couldn’t help clapping and repeating several “good”s.
The previously gloomy atmosphere vanished in an instant.
The veteran players, faces full of astonishment, leaned forward, eager to get a closer look at this strategy.
They exchanged glances, seeing in each other a thousand astonished, dumbfounded expressions.
This was insane!
Since the instance had opened over three months ago, no one had ever triggered the Yin Officials’ Third Taboo. And now, Jian Yuntai, on his first attempt at the side quest, had done it?!
The surprise was so sudden that many couldn’t believe it—they even doubted it. Many of them were experienced viewers of the livestream team, familiar with every streamer, but Jian Yuntai was a completely new face.
Either he was an obscure minor figure in the livestream team… or he was a newcomer.
A newcomer… and yet so strong?!
Thinking this, the veteran players leaned even closer, practically trying to stick to Jian Yuntai. Under countless probing stares, Jian Yuntai remained composed and began to speak.
“The Yin Officials’ Three Taboos are: First, do not speak of the past. Second, do not speak of secret treasures…” Under the increasingly anxious gazes, Jian Yuntai lowered his eyes slightly, his expression layered with complexity. “And the third, do not speak of weaknesses.”
As the words fell, the crowd collectively sensed something.
Soon, some streamers shouted in delight: “I triggered the Yin Officials’ Third Taboo!”
“Me too! Me too!”
In truth, the Three Taboos only required the right opportunity. Once people realized that opportunity—for example, Sun Bin’s destined person Zhang Zhiyan—the weakness would most likely lie in his Yin-Yang eyes.
After exploring the side quest for so long, smart players could roughly guess a destined person’s weakness. Just knowing this point would trigger the Third Taboo.
Even so, many veteran players were flustered and cried out in frustration: “How are they so fast?!”
After the excitement came a wave of headaches.
Cha Huafeng massaged her forehead, processing the instance’s background audio, and summarized for those who hadn’t triggered the mission yet:
“All Yin Officials and Destined Officials in the Underworld have weaknesses. Compared to the well-known taboo against talking about treasures, the taboo against discussing weaknesses is a hidden secret. The mission requires you to sever the weakness.”
“What does that mean—help the destined person overcome their weakness?” someone asked, confused.
Cha Huafeng paused a few seconds and shook her head. “No. The background audio is clear. Severing the weakness means you have to know what the destined person’s weakness is, and then sever it.” She paused, then rephrased it in simpler terms: “It’s like earning their trust, getting them to reveal their weakness, and then shattering that trust completely. In other words, you betray them.”
“…………”
The hall remained silent for a long time.
Yu Xingcao hadn’t completed the Second Taboo yet, so naturally he couldn’t trigger the Third. Not having heard the instance’s background audio, he asked with hesitation: “But if the destined person dies, we die too. We can’t just kill them to clear the instance, that’s suicide, right?”
“Not necessarily. Even severe injury might be enough,” Cha Huafeng replied uncertainly, guessing. “Though it’s a weakness, it probably won’t be instantly fatal.”
Only then did everyone breathe a sigh of relief. “Good, I thought they’d actually die.”
Fatty, with his moral compass intact, was shocked. “They don’t die, and yet you can betray them? You can deceive them and carry no guilt at all?”
“They’re just NPCs,” Cha Huafeng frowned, still confused. “NPCs aren’t real people.”
—Another one.
Jian Yuntai’s lips twitched. He used to think the same, until Fatty had given him a long lecture.
Fatty began repeating his usual argument, trying to educate Cha Huafeng: “Studies show that NPCs are real people, just repeatedly living the same segment of life…”
After a long ramble, Cha Huafeng blinked in bewilderment. “What studies show that?”
Proudly, Fatty said, “A doctoral thesis written by someone named Chen Sanxian.”
“Isn’t Chen Sanxian… you?” Cha Huafeng gave him a strange look, clearly not taking the claim seriously. He added: “Now that the Yin Officials’ Third Taboo has been discovered, I suggest players capable of completing the mission leave the instance quickly. Lingering too long may make you miss the next livestream team mission. Missing one is fine, but two or three? Your personal performance for the year is ruined.”
Personal performance.
At the mention of this, even Jian Yuntai felt a headache coming on.
At year-end, streamers’ performances were evaluated based solely on how many instances they completed, ranked from A to E.
Just like a traditional medal leaderboard for major tournaments: first rank by the number of A-level instances completed, then B, and so on.
After the ranking, overall performance was determined.
Performance targets were strict: failing to meet them meant losing certain privileges, such as unconditional healing from Sinister Spirit Types, and restrictions on purchasing some high-end items in the Central Marketplace.
Here, the definition of underperformance wasn’t fixed—it was just loosely defined, with a borderline drawn. Streamers ranked below a certain threshold would be penalized. From the very start, this system was unfriendly to newcomers, because most newcomers joined the livestream team to fill vacant spots.
Sometimes, if someone joined in July or August, they would have to push their performance frantically by year-end, with almost no rest.
But everyone had been a newcomer once; many streamers had experienced performance pressure in their first year. Initially, a few would protest, only to find the higher-ups didn’t care. Later, newcomers just accepted it.
Jian Yuntai accepted it as well.
He reasoned that even though he joined late in the year, his performance shouldn’t fall to the very bottom.
Yet he never expected that the second instance would bring such a huge challenge. By now, he had been trapped for over eight days; staying any longer would make him miss the next instance entirely.
After thinking a moment, Jian Yuntai said, “Sun Bin dropping to zero this time was purely accidental. Last night, I went to explore the Yin Officials’ Third Taboo and didn’t guard against Zhang Zhiyan. As a result…”
Even if he didn’t continue, everyone understood what had happened.
“I haven’t asked yet,” Fatty said, curious. “What did you just go out to do?”
Jian Yuntai replied casually, “Cui Yu told me to let the ghost officials know what we wanted to eat, so I went to report the menu.”
“……” Fatty’s mouth twitched in disbelief. “At a time like this, you actually still think about food?!”
Jian Yuntai said calmly, “What else? Sun Bin’s soul contract dropped to zero. Am I supposed to be so worried I can’t eat, starving myself?”
Fatty laughed. “You’re a real hardcore foodie. Only because Cui Yu is willing to take care of you unconditionally. You better appreciate him.”
Just as Jian Yuntai was about to speak, Cha Huafeng suddenly interjected: “I suggest you clear the Third Taboo.”
“…?” Jian Yuntai looked around and realized she was speaking to him. Surprised, he asked, “Why?”
Cha Huafeng sighed. “I won’t sugarcoat it. You can figure out the pros and cons yourself. From a team perspective, it’s better if you skip the Third Taboo; next time, you could leverage Cui Yu again to stall Zhang Zhiyan. But… from your perspective, you’ve already pushed to the extreme. If you clear it and then have to babysit the team through the instance, it’s… asking too much.”
“You’re a newcomer, and year-end is crunch time for performance. Do you want to lose all Sinister Spirit Types healing for the year? Or see something in the Central Marketplace you want but be ineligible to buy?”
“……” Jian Yuntai fell silent.
Cha Huafeng’s words were heartfelt. He had considered them, but previously hadn’t wanted to dwell on it.
These simple yet profound truths were laid bare, raw and bloody, right before his eyes.
Although the streamers wanted Jian Yuntai to stay and act as the team’s tool in the next instance, this could not be forced; in the end, they silently watched him.
Cha Huafeng asked again, “What are you thinking?”
To go, or to stay?
“What can I think?” Jian Yuntai curved his lips slightly, stretched lazily, and replied casually, “Don’t demonize me—just because it’s a side quest doesn’t mean I can clear it whenever I want.”
After speaking, he met Cha Huafeng’s gaze. Her eyes seemed to pierce right through him, making him inexplicably uneasy. This irritation wasn’t toward her—it was directed at himself.
Cha Huafeng was right.
And that was why Jian Yuntai felt so frustrated.
After a long pause, Cha Huafeng sighed again.
“Don’t follow in Lin Fuxue’s footsteps.”
Her intuition was sharp; she had begun to sense Jian Yuntai’s unusual feelings toward Cui Yu.
He Qingzhou, clueless as ever, asked in confusion, “Who’s Lin Fuxue?”
“Founding streamer of the livestream team. He fell in love with an NPC in a B-level instance and retired from the team. Even now, he’s trying to bring that female NPC into the real world. Three years, and he’s failed every time. The last time I saw him, he was almost insane, looking pitiful.”
Having said this, Cha Huafeng turned to Jian Yuntai again.
Once more, he felt entirely seen through. His heart tightened, and he spent nearly ten minutes thinking, while no one spoke.
Only the live comments scrolled by:
“Wow, Sister Cha is something else. In the first round through Hell, she convinced Jian Yuntai to surrender using words. I thought she was smart then. Now… Jian Dadan is wavering. He’s probably debating whether to sever Cui Yu’s weakness.”
“Sister Cha, why would you say that?! My ship… is it going to sink because of you?”
“Don’t assume Sister Cha is stirring trouble just because you feel bad for Cui Yu. She and Lin Fuxue were childhood friends and longtime companions. After Lin Fuxue got into trouble, her feelings were complicated… I heard she joined the livestream team to gain resources, grow strong quickly, and help Lin Fuxue retrieve that female NPC from a B-level instance—a near-impossible mission.”
“So, Sister Cha probably sees how tragic and deranged Lin Fuxue is now, and worries Jian Yuntai might end up the same?”
“This is so hard! You don’t want wife to become like that, but you can’t bear to see Cui Yu betrayed by the one he loves most. Either way… heart-wrenching, sob sob sob…”
After a long silence, the side hall was almost quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
Under the gaze of hundreds of thousands of livestream viewers, Jian Yuntai exhaled slowly. His eyes were now resolute as he said: “I will never follow in Lin Fuxue’s footsteps.”
Cha Huafeng’s eyes lit with relief.
One Lin Fuxue in the world was already enough. Jian Yuntai’s personality was so different. Clearly, she had been worrying unnecessarily.
Just then, a ghost official burst in, shouting urgently: “All of you, hurry to the main hall to welcome King of Hell!”
The hall erupted. Many stood immediately, shocked:
“Why is the King of Hell coming to the Yin Law Division?”
“Why now?”
“Isn’t it the penultimate day of the main quest? He’s supposed to get married tomorrow night.” Some whispered curiously: “In previous loops, I don’t remember the King of Hell ever visiting the Yin Law Division.”
Amid the questions, the ghost official spoke timidly: “The King of Hell seems extremely agitated. He shouted for a long time, mentioning the Underworld’s Taboo Kong Cave and the lesser fairy Yan Xiang…”
—Kong Cave?
Isn’t that Cui Yu’s weakness?!
Before the ghost official could finish, a sudden gust of wind swept through the side hall. Jian Yuntai’s robes flared violently as he strode out.
Some players who had awakened but whose bodies hadn’t evolved could barely see more than a blur.
Seconds after he left, everyone in the hall stared in disbelief, slowly realizing someone had just dashed out.
“???”
Cha Huafeng massaged her forehead, dumbfounded.
So this was Jian Yuntai’s promise to never follow Lin Fuxue’s path?
Never follow… he was practically flying out of the hall. Dust swirled thickly in his wake.
Cha Huafeng shook her head helplessly, worried for him.
The expression on Jian Yuntai’s face as he left was all too familiar. Seeing it, she felt an eerie chill, as if Lin Fuxue’s spirit from three years ago had momentarily reappeared in him.
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