The palanquin was entirely black, inside and out. As soon as Nan Yan entered, she felt a chilling cold that only subsided when a faint Buddhist power spread outward. Reflecting on the situation, she realized the masked Nascent Soul cultivator was truly cunning. While the ox-headed ghost was present, this masked cultivator had deliberately created an atmosphere of danger to hurry the others through the life-and-death sign-drawing challenge, saving time.
She wondered how many people, in their haste, had drawn signs unprepared, ultimately perishing here. Sighing, Nan Yan calculated that at least a hundred Nascent Soul cultivators from Si State had fallen in this ghost city. Without the involvement of Void State cultivators, such losses equaled three years of casualties on the Chen-Si battlefield.
Accepting the situation as irreversible, Nan Yan reached out to lift the curtain beside her, curious about their surroundings. However, the curtain remained immovable, likely due to some restrictions. After several futile attempts, she decided to proceed with caution. Although the masked cultivator seemed well-intentioned, she wasn’t sure if the survivors would be used as pawns once they passed through his so-called shortcut.
Soon, the palanquin stopped swaying. As it touched the ground, the small ghost bearers opened the door. The sudden starlight made Nan Yan squint. One ghost gestured for her to exit, and hearing other cultivators disembark, she hesitantly stepped out.
Nan Yan froze in astonishment. For a moment, she doubted whether they were still inside the pagoda. Before them stood a massive bronze gate, seemingly part of an ancient, opulent palace. The structure had no roof, everything was bathed in a misty starlight. She then recognized the stars as the green fires from the eyes of the bone rats, their集合 creating an eerily beautiful scene.
“Senior, where have we arrived?” she asked.
The masked Nascent Soul cultivator, appearing to be here for the first time as well, calmly surveyed the surroundings. Stroking his beard, he replied, “This might be the legendary Netherworld’s Yquan Palace.”
Shortly after, the bronze gates creaked open slightly, then wider, revealing several red-clad women approaching from within. At first glance, their faces seemed unnaturally pale, but Nan Yan soon realized with surprise that these women, despite their elaborate dresses and hairstyles, were animated skeletons without flesh.
“Bone spirits,” the masked cultivator muttered.
Each skeletal beauty carried a red veil embroidered with strange patterns. They approached the cultivators, offering the veils as if expecting them to be worn. The blood-soaked appearance of the veils made all the cultivators uneasy.
“It seems we’re expected to enter this palace like brides,” someone observed.
The most conservative Nascent Soul cultivator flushed with anger. “I’ve cultivated for a hundred years! How can I be taken into a ghost’s harem? Preposterous!”
He pushed the bone spirit away, but it shattered easily. The red veil, seemingly sentient, leaped up and forcefully covered his head. Instantly, his rage subsided. He adjusted the veil and adopted a demure posture, hands folded at his waist like a palace lady.
The remaining cultivators watched in horror as the scattered bones reassembled. The newly reformed skeleton straightened its clothes and led the veiled cultivator through the bronze gates.
The masked cultivator commented, “That fellow… he still retains his consciousness.”
As if impatient with the delay, the veils on the bone spirits began to rise. The masked cultivator acted swiftly, donning a veil and assuming a feminine gait as he followed the bone spirits inside.
“This cultivator has been remarkably composed throughout. Unlike us Nascent Soul practitioners,” the others remarked before summoning their magical treasures for protection and allowing the veils to settle on their heads.
Nan Yan was the last. As the veil descended, she felt her body stiffen. A mysterious force compelled her to abandon her dignified Buddhist posture for a more graceful, feminine bearing.
As the masked cultivator had mentioned, Nan Yan retained her consciousness. Following the bone spirits through the gates, her Seven Buddha Karma Scripture suddenly hummed and activated, sensing an unprecedented evil presence in the palace.
Simultaneously, the veil’s restrictions weakened rapidly. By the time she ascended a long stone staircase to another hall, she could move freely again.
Extending her divine sense, Nan Yan was startled. This hall was the largest she had ever seen, its breadth immeasurable. It was filled with living bone spirits, but most striking was a colossal blood-red skeleton. Standing five zhang tall, it wore a dragon-embroidered robe and a crown. Bone beauties constantly filled its basin-sized cup with a blood-like wine.
The extreme evil pressure she had felt earlier emanated from this being.
Before it, above whirling, dancing bone spirits, a light screen projected sounds of battle:
“Where’s that boy?!”
“We don’t know. The fox spirit with him knows illusions. They vanished in an instant!”
“Find and kill them! Even if this old man dies, the Crown Prince of Chen State won’t survive alone!”
Nan Yan’s heart raced at these words, but she dared not act rashly. Led to a screen on the side of the hall, she was seated in an empty spot.
Surrounded by other veiled “brides,” Nan Yan noticed most were bone spirits, except for the male cultivators who had arrived with her. Tilting her veil slightly, she glanced to her right. The masked Nascent Soul cultivator sat in a shadowy corner, his fingers tracing invisible symbols on his knee.
Moments later, he sensed something and his fingers froze. Turning towards Nan Yan, his body leaned forward slightly, as if shocked by what he saw.
Nan Yan initially thought she’d been discovered, but soon realized the masked Nascent Soul cultivator’s attention was elsewhere.
The blood-colored skeleton on the throne suddenly cackled, “Lord of the Yellow Springs Prison, since you’re here, why not join me in savoring this delightful scene of mortal struggle?”
“Humans are beings that can never suppress their desire to conquer,” a voice from outside the hall replied. Though not menacing, it caused all the bone spirits to freeze, their bones rattling in fear. The dancing bone beauties in the center shattered, leaving only their skulls spinning on the ground.
The blood-colored skeleton tapped its armrest, sending a cup of blood wine toward the visitor. “I never imagined someone would dare to usurp the position of Lord of the Yellow Springs. This soul wine, brewed from the blood of yin spirits, is to soothe your travel-weary body!”
A pale hand caught the cup. Its owner glanced at the fierce battle on the light screen and said, “I never used to drink, thinking it clouded judgment. Now I know it’s not just alcohol that can leave one lost and confused.” He drank the wine in one gulp, a trickle of red flowing from his ever-smiling lips down his neck.
Ji, Shao, Cang. Nan Yan ground these three characters between her teeth before swallowing them back. She watched as he sat down gracefully, addressing the Underworld Prison Lord, “The Yellow Springs are in imminent danger. How can you continue your revelry, Prison Lord?”
“You think they pose a threat?” The Prison Lord’s voice dripped with disdain despite his skeletal form. “The Nine Prisons are the absolute boundary between mortals and gods. How could they be so easily breached?”
“If they couldn’t be breached, why are the Nine Prisons in such a state?” Ji Yang countered softly. “If you’re unwilling to act, why not simply reincarnate? Otherwise, when your life and death are controlled by others, you, a vicious spirit born of mountain forests, might have to bid farewell to this life of luxury and return to the mud and mire.”
The Prison Lord’s laughter ceased. “I still believe that those who emerge from the Yellow Springs must be the evilest of evil ghosts. But seeing you today, the insatiable greed beneath your skin is shocking even to me. However, as a fellow ghost, I admire your greed. Let’s make a deal. Allow me to possess one of your souls, becoming your auxiliary soul. Together, we’ll devour the six prisons and conquer the Feng Mo Heaven, seizing the position of Prison King and controlling the fate of all the dead in this realm.”
“An interesting proposal, but firstly, the Yellow Springs Prison alone isn’t a useful enough asset. Secondly, I’d find it hard to convince myself to honor any promise made to you,” Ji Yang replied.
The Prison Lord argued, “In the Nine Prisons, without an alliance, one must be the master and the rest slaves to vie for the position of Prison Lord. Now, with mortals eyeing the Netherworld, seeking immortality by controlling reincarnation, I may be dead, but I won’t allow this disruption of the natural order! I agree to help you. If you won’t let me possess you, find a suitable living being for me to possess. Then I and the Yellow Springs will be at your command!”
“Hmm? Was I not clear enough, or is the Prison Lord too straightforward?” Ji Yang’s lips curled into a contemptuous smile. “I didn’t bring these people here merely to brew wine for you.”
“Then what did you—”
“I came to request that you die, body and soul, and relinquish the Yellow Springs crown to another,” Ji Yang stated.
“How dare you!” The Prison Lord’s fury erupted. The surrounding bone spirits crumbled, the starry sky above churned, and even the screen near Nan Yan flew up.
Suddenly, the masked Nascent Soul cultivator in the corner leaped up, lunging at Ji Yang.
“Forgive me! Don’t blame me in the afterlife; blame your past stubbornness and defiance of your masters!” The masked cultivator abandoned his initial plan, apparently deeming Ji Yang’s death more critical than anything else.
His cultivation surged, concentrating all his power into one finger, briefly touching the power of the Void State. He aimed this destructive force at Ji Yang.
But it seemed futile. To the masked cultivator’s shock, his supposedly lethal strike changed direction in the blink of an eye, striking a pillar instead.
The pillar shook and split open, obliterating even the twisted bone spirits behind it as their soul fires scattered and extinguished.
“You’re already a ghost—”
At that moment, the Prison Lord’s skeletal hand flew from his sleeve, vanishing and reappearing behind the masked cultivator. It grabbed him, thrashing him about before tossing him aside, his mask now shattered.
“Tch, I wondered why we suddenly received new ghost brides today. It turns out to be a rotten man. How nauseating. Kill this batch and brew them into soul wine.”
As countless ghosts swarmed in from all directions, Nan Yan saw some cultivators frantically tearing at their veils. Just then, Ji Yang’s gaze shifted towards her, and he spoke up.
“Prison Lord, I accept your earlier proposal. I’ll find you a suitable vessel for possession.”
The Prison Lord straightened up slightly. “Oh? What kind of vessel?”
“A great demon of the Celestial Fox clan.”
The Prison Lord hesitated, seemingly troubled. “The Celestial Fox clan would indeed be perfect for my ghost form, but one branch, the Nightmare Foxes, delights in devouring the souls of the living and dead. They’re great enemies of us ghosts. I fear…”
Ji Yang replied without missing a beat, “The Nightmare Foxes are extinct. Where did you hear of them? I’d like to know more.”
Hidden behind a pillar, Nan Yan’s eyelid twitched. Legend had it that Nightmare Foxes needed to devour three thousand souls daily, striking terror into ghosts.
However, given her second brother’s prowess, she wondered who would truly be terrified when the time came.
The Prison Lord laughed heartily. “Indeed, I worried needlessly. The Celestial Fox clan it is, then. But what do you want in return? Though my palace is vast, I’m not sure what here could be worth your effort.”
The bone spirits around Nan Yan scattered. Soon, she saw someone approach through the gap in her veil. The figure stopped before her, and an inscrutable gaze swept over her from toe to head before speaking:
“She is a priceless treasure. How could she not be worth it?”