The bull-headed ghost was as tall as the previous ghost woman, pitch-black with protruding fangs and eyes red as magma. Standing outside Yin Ya’s cell, it occasionally exhaled a cold, rank breath.
Fortunately, Yin Ya feared ghosts more than this beast-like creature, which seemed preferable to the ghost mother-daughter duo. He eyed the bull-headed ghost warily.
“W-what do you want?” he stammered.
The ghost stood still for a moment, then, under the curious gazes from surrounding cells, it twisted off one of its bowl-sized horns and offered it to Yin Ya through the cell bars.
From a few cells away, a masked Yuan Ying cultivator scoffed, “The horn is a lot-drawing tube. The previous cultivator was chosen to draw lots but refused and was immediately bisected. With less than an hour until dawn, drawing gives you a chance to live. Decide quickly for everyone’s sake.”
Someone else sneered, “Easy for you to say. Would you be so cavalier facing life and death?”
The masked cultivator retorted, “Whatever it is if it were me, I’d welcome the chance to fight this ghostly thing.”
His words held a hint of confidence, showing no fear.
Nan Yan scanned the surrounding cells but couldn’t spot Ji Yang. Most prisoners were too shocked and angry to notice much else.
As others urged Yin Ya to act and the bull-headed ghost grew impatient, baring its fangs, Yin Ya considered using his trump card. Then, Nan Yan whispered from next door:
“Draw a shorter lot.”
Steeling himself, Yin Ya decided to use his secret technique if he drew badly. Seeing about a hundred lots in the horn, he drew a green-tipped one. Turning it over, he saw the character for “life.”
The “life” lot immediately transformed into light, covering the back of Yin Ya’s hand. Suddenly, the ceiling of his cell split open, and the entire cell rumbled upwards.
“Hey, what’s happening?” Yin Ya’s voice faded as he ascended.
Confused prisoners asked, “What’s going on?”
The masked cultivator explained, “As I expected, there are 100 of us imprisoned and 100 lots, some for life and some for death. He drew a life lot, so he passed this level and was transported up.”
The cultivators, not fools, began to panic.
“What happens when all the life lots are drawn? Bull-head, come here!”
But the bull-headed ghost ignored them, seemingly noticing Nan Yan’s earlier hint to Yin Ya. It tapped on Nan Yan’s cell door, completely sealing her spiritual sense and voice inside. Then it moved to Mu Zhanting’s cell, banging on the door with its axe handle.
Nan Yan, unable to project her senses or voice, anxiously watched Mu Zhanting’s situation.
Soon, Mu Zhanting awoke, startled by the bull-head’s presence. Realizing he was in a cell, he became irritated.
“Draw lots? Get lost.”
The demonic cultivator opposite him exclaimed excitedly, “He’s doomed.”
Angered by the refusal, the bull-headed ghost roared and swung its axe, which phased through the solid stone bars with a sonic boom, striking down with immense force.
However, Mu Zhanting wasn’t afraid. Recognizing the ghost’s Yuan Ying peak strength, he swiftly activated a secret technique, summoning the image of a turtle-bodied, dragon-headed beast.
“The Bashe Shield of the Nine Dragon Scripture?! He’s from the Ao clan… No, he’s the Imperial Son of Chen State!” someone exclaimed.
As everyone watched in shock, the bull-head’s axe came crashing down. The Bashe’s shell cracked, but this intensity triggered Mu Zhanting’s innate Dragon Lord technique. A thunder dragon emerged from his body, blasting a hole through the bullhead’s chest, forcing it to stagger back.
The bullhead, seemingly immortal, devoured half the corpse of the previously killed cultivator, healing its wound. It picked up its axe and again offered the lot-drawing horn to Mu Zhanting.
Realizing the bull-head wouldn’t fight further, Mu Zhanting hesitantly drew a second lot, which read “death.”
Nan Yan tensed again, but when the bull-head struck once more, Mu Zhanting still had strength. He fared better this time, barely deflecting the blow with just the Bashe Shield and about ten defensive talismans.
On his third draw, Mu Zhanting got a “life” lot and was transported to the second floor.
Someone bitterly remarked, “I see. Even if you draw a death lot or defy the bull-head, you get another chance if you survive one axe strike.”
The masked cultivator added, “Correct. The strong compete with heaven, the weak submit to fate.”
Relieved at Mu Zhanting’s safety, Nan Yan pondered something the masked cultivator soon voiced:
“There are only 100 lots. Luckily, the first person died without drawing. But what if later cultivators draw multiple times before dying or passing? What happens when the lots run out?”
Everyone’s faces darkened. The immortal bull-head couldn’t be outlasted.
Soon, the bullhead randomly chose a Yuan Ying cultivator. Weakened by the earlier ghost parade, he couldn’t withstand even one axe strike. His body was split in two, and the bullhead’s axe absorbed his nascent soul.
Despite this, most cultivators didn’t want to be last and tried various tactics.
“Bull-head friend, let me draw first. I have ghost food for you!”
“I have blood offerings! What do you want? Is a fifth-grade spirit beast enough?”
These methods seemed somewhat effective. Nan Yan saw the bullhead attracted to a cultivator who’d spilled purple demon blood at his cell door. However, that cultivator’s luck was poor; he drew two death lots and was killed.
The bullhead seemed to avoid Nan Yan, perhaps due to her earlier hint to Yin Ya. After an hour, fewer than ten people remained.
“By my count, only one lot remains,” a weaker cultivator said fearfully.
Nan Yan sat motionless, noticing the masked Yuan Ying cultivator still in his cell, seemingly unconcerned about who the bullhead would choose last.
Nan Yan was out of options. Demons and ghosts disliked Buddhist cultivators, so even if she set up a meat shop at her door like others, the bullhead would surely avoid her. Seeing the masked cultivator’s calmness, she intuited that the remaining people might not necessarily die.
A distant scream indicated the last lot drawer had drawn a death lot. With only nine cultivators remaining, some began frantically pounding on their cell doors.
“Even in death, I won’t forgive Huo Wuji!”
“Master, junior sister… I’m coming to join you.”
“I can’t die! I haven’t achieved immortality yet! Fellow cultivators, let’s find a way to break these bars and kill this ghost together!”
As the cultivators desperately sought survival, Nan Yan saw the masked cultivator stand up. Simultaneously, the faint sound of bells echoed from the corridor’s end.
Nan Yan was the first to see the approaching figures—a procession of small ghosts resembling yakshas, in groups of four, carrying black sedan chairs on their shoulders.
“This is…”
As Nan Yan stood stunned, the masked cultivator laughed, “You youngsters left till the end are far luckier than the others. They had to pass nine trials in the ‘imperial examination,’ while we only need to wait for the ‘imperial selection’ to directly enter the top floor’s harem of the prison lord.”
Nan Yan: ??
The surviving cultivators exchanged bewildered glances. Some complained, “Fellow cultivator, we’re all men, except for one Buddhist nun. What’s this ‘imperial selection’ about?”
Others, who had resigned themselves to death, now felt confused by this turn of events. One cried out, “A man can be killed but not humiliated! How can a pure, upright man like myself be forced into a harem?!”
The masked cultivator scoffed, ignoring them. Only Nan Yan, who was closer, bowed and asked, “Senior, we came seeking opportunities. After these trials, our only wish is to survive. We wouldn’t dare compete with you for opportunities. Could you please explain the true situation in Youquan Chuan?”
“So you know about it.” The masked cultivator eyed Nan Yan curiously, then smirked, “Well, it’s no secret among high-level cultivators. I might as well tell you. This eighteen-story tower is designed to select the lord of Youquan Prison. To become the master here, one must pass the tower’s trials. Later challengers must overcome life-and-death obstacles floor by floor to seize the crown from the current lord. The last survivor becomes the prison lord. However…”
Nan Yan: “However what?”
“Among the Nine Hells, Youquan Chuan’s trials are said to be the easiest. Even so, in thousands of years of Youquan Chuan’s manifestations, no one has claimed the position of prison lord.” The masked cultivator pointed at the approaching black sedan chairs. “Fortunately, the previous Youquan prison lord favored carnal pleasures. Cultivators who didn’t draw lots in the first trial could be directly taken to the top floor’s main hall to become ‘consorts.’ He died suddenly, leaving this rule unchanged, so the ghost minions continue to follow it.”
Nan Yan admired the Yuan Ying cultivator’s courage in openly discussing his willingness to participate in the selection for the sake of opportunity.
Some cultivators nervously asked, “What if we’re chosen? Even if I survive, my Dao partner would kill me.”
The masked cultivator reassured them, “Don’t worry. The Youquan prison lord has long since… died. Otherwise, how could living people enter this netherworld? The ‘selection’ is just a metaphor. Unless another prison lord is present to command the ghosts, you should see this as a rare shortcut.”
As he finished speaking, the stone bars in front of everyone rose. A sedan chair stopped at Nan Yan’s cell door, and the ghost bearers opened it, staring at her intently.
Well, if I must go, I’ll go, Nan Yan thought. If Ji Yang is still here, he shouldn’t let Big Brother and Second Brother be in danger… right?
Suppressing her worries, Nan Yan entered the sedan chair.
…
Outside the ghost city of Wuwo Mountain, as the sky shifted from black to deep blue, cultivators from various demonic sects of Si State gathered.
“What’s going on?! Two of our sect’s elders’ lives jade shattered. Weren’t we told there was no danger?!”
As the cultivators debated, a massive winged serpent over 100 meters long flew in, carrying seven or eight Yuan Ying cultivators on its head. Among them was a white-haired man of unfathomable power.
…Huo Wuji had finally appeared!
Despite their hatred, the demonic cultivators dared not confront the Nascent Divinity cultivator directly. They could only ask loudly, “Sect Leader Huo, can you explain this to us?”
As the giant serpent landed, kicking up dust, clouds gathered overhead, revealing Huo Wuji’s silhouette.
“I owe you no explanation!”
All protests and curses ceased immediately… for they faced a Nascent Divinity cultivator!
In their anger and hatred, everyone turned to the other Nascent Divinity cultivator sitting quietly before the ghost city—the only one who could match Huo Wuji in status and cultivation.
“Fellow Daoist Huo, it’s been years. How have you been?” Elder Zhu Sui of the Dao Sheng Tian sect stood up to greet him.
Dao Sheng Tian cultivators had a particular regard for etiquette. Even if mortal combat was imminent, they would not neglect proper courtesies.
Huo Wuji, however, was not so polite: “Wuwo Mountain is under my Si State’s jurisdiction. Elder Zhu, if you’re here for the Chen State imperial son, out of respect for the Dragon Lord, I’ll have him sent back to Chen State once found. There’s no need for you to be here.”
Elder Zhu Sui of Dao Sheng Tian smiled, “Given the tragedy here and the imperial son’s involvement if Chen State’s second imperial son were to perish in Si State, it would displease many in the cultivation world. After careful consideration, I’ve informed the Zheng Fa Palace. Their enforcers will arrive soon to take over.”
Huo Wuji laughed loudly, “You say ‘also’ perish in Si State? How the first imperial son of Chen State died… you hypocrites from Dao Sheng Tian can speak of it?”
Zhu Sui’s smile faded slightly, “Fellow Daoist Huo, your words are puzzling.”
Huo Wuji sneered and unleashed a thunderbolt, tearing open space and revealing dozens of Nascent Divinity auras.
“Since we’re all here to end the war between Chen and Si States quickly, why not the more, the merrier? If there are other benefits in this secret realm, wouldn’t it be better to share the glory?”
Zhu Sui’s smile suddenly turned cold, “Fellow Daoist Huo, you’ve cultivated for many years. You should know that those who understand the times are true heroes. Those who don’t… can only dominate in the underworld!”