The Extreme Realm, the Eighteenth Layer of Hell.

The Shitian Creation Array of yesteryear had already been dismantled after the Yin-Yang Realm war. Now, standing at the very edge of this bottommost layer of hell, all one could see was an expanse of undifferentiated chaos that knew no distinction between pure and turbid, along with the turbulent currents at the end of that chaos that no gaze could penetrate.

Sixty years of time had once vanished within those turbulent currents.

A single moment spanning a full cycle of sixty years.

Jian Chou had been standing here, gazing at that pitch-black and unfathomable space, for several years already. She had neither moved a single step nor spoken a single word.

When Zhang Tang walked over from the entrance of the Eighteenth Layer of Hell, he felt that her posture at this moment seemed no different from when he had come to check on her several months ago.

He was now a Yama King.

When the Yin-Yang Realm war had restarted that year, he had switched sides at the crucial moment, first killing Lord Chu Jiang, then directly betraying the Eight Directions Yama Palace and hiding in the City of Unjust Deaths to live leisurely. As a result, when Lord Qin Guang was slain by Jian Chou and had all his consciousness destroyed in an instant, transforming into the true form of the Six Paths Reincarnation Book of Life and Death, it was instead Jian Chou—this existence that could no longer be considered human nor ghost—who was enfeoffed as the King of Equality.

According to proper order, this should have been the ninth Yama King to appear in the Extreme Realm, rightfully ranked ninth. Yet she had personally struck down the original Lord Qin Guang of the First Palace. Though nominally ninth, in reality she was the first—one whose mere mention would make the other Yama Kings shudder with cold.

Naturally, he had also benefited from this association.

Not long after the war’s end when the Extreme Realm was reorganized and reincarnation restored, he had been granted a volume of the Book of Life and Death by Jian Chou and enfeoffed as the Tenth Palace’s King Biancheng, governing the City of Unjust Deaths.

The positions of the original Lord Qin Guang, Lord Chu Jiang, Emperor Song, and Lord Wu Guan remained vacant. The Eighth Palace’s King Zhuanlun had originally been Lord Qin Guang’s confidant, but after Lord Qin Guang’s downfall, fearing that the Nineteen Continents would hold him accountable for past deeds, he had already abandoned his position and fled. Thus the Eighth Palace position was also vacant. As for King Yanluo and King Dushi, they merely occupied their positions and performed their duties. Since they had only been following the tide and didn’t care who truly ruled the Extreme Realm, they naturally submitted to Jian Chou and remained in their original positions. King Taishan had been severely injured by Jian Chou in the battle at Ghost Gate Pass, then refined into a puppet by Lord Qin Guang. After Jian Chou seized the Book of Life and Death, she had also released his bindings, allowing him to recuperate while remaining as King Taishan.

Thus, though the Extreme Realm had changed masters, there were no great upheavals.

Moreover, from Zhang Tang’s observations, this King of Equality, Jian Chou, truly paid little attention to the various affairs of the Extreme Realm, leaving almost everything for him to handle.

The feeling of wielding great power was naturally quite comfortable and did bring Zhang Tang some pleasure, but when he had leisure to think about it occasionally, he felt somewhat uneasy.

He had sometimes seen Jian Chou standing beside the Reincarnation Pool, and felt her expression was somewhat intriguing.

Rather than gazing at the reincarnation that governed worldly life and death, she seemed instead…

Like she was watching a chicken awaiting slaughter.

Even her current gaze fixed on that stretch of turbulent currents in the darkness ahead, Zhang Tang found strangely unsettling.

But he had not inquired about it.

Walking up behind her, he stopped and clasped his hands behind his back in his customary manner within his wide sleeves, saying: “The Middle Realm minor assembly has concluded. Today I played chess with Immortal Wuzhong, and he asked about your whereabouts.”

The figure that had stood motionless for so long was like a statue.

Her landscape robes fluttered in the chaotic wind. Jian Chou’s back was as precipitous as mountain peaks, her hands clasped behind her, holding a long scroll in her palms.

The design resembled the Book of Life and Death somewhat.

But Zhang Tang knew it was not that.

Hearing his words, her form stirred slightly, and after a moment of contemplation: “He asked about me…”

“Recently when I’ve played chess with him, I’ve often seen him become distracted mid-game. The statue in that room has also remained motionless for a long time. When distracted, he would always gaze at that statue. I believe his sudden inquiry about you today indicates he has some matter at hand.”

That’s why he had made this special trip here.

Zhang Tang’s cold brows and eyes were as bland as water, becoming increasingly impassive over the years, but having served as a Yama King for so many years, his aura of authority had grown much heavier than before. Even speaking in such a plain manner, one could detect a kind of lofty scrutiny in his flat tone.

Even when facing Jian Chou, it was the same.

He looked at her and continued: “These years, you’ve also always stood here watching this stretch of turbulent currents. Is there some mystery within?”

Mystery?

Jian Chou finally turned to look at him.

Her face was carved as if from ice and snow, yet her brows and eyes revealed a rare peacefulness. Her entire being showed not the slightest hint of sharpness, only those eyes—deep and dark as night, yet seeming to condense starlight from the night sky. Not necessarily brilliant, but giving one a sense of vastness.

Without end, without boundary.

This made Zhang Tang feel he was not facing a person, but an entire world.

He heard her answering voice.

Vast as the galaxy itself.

“Have you ever heard of the ‘Nine Curves River Map’? People all say it records the secrets of the universe’s birth, condensing the common destination of the Three Thousand Great Daos, inscribing the lost legends of the primordial age. This stretch of turbulent currents is one of them.”

Zhang Tang had known for a long time that Jian Chou possessed this scroll of the “Nine Curves River Map,” seeming to have appeared after the Yin-Yang Realm war ended, but hearing her mention it was still the first time.

He didn’t interrupt, only listened.

Jian Chou then turned her gaze back toward the depths of that chaos, saying: “When this universe was first born, it was a realm of chaos, undifferentiated between pure and turbid, undivided between past and future, the four directions above and below. When Great Sage Pangu first came to this realm, he split open the chaos, and only then did the universe begin to evolve. Before its evolution could mature, like a person walking the path who becomes thirsty, and to preserve the reincarnation he had just created, the Great Sage took a ladle of primordial force from this universe to quench his thirst. The universe’s evolution then lacked this ladle’s worth of power. Though millions of years passed in the blink of an eye, it could never complete its evolution, leaving behind this patch of undifferentiated chaos, undifferentiated space-time, existing as turbulent currents spanning across this realm. So it is the universe’s turbulent currents, and also a wound in this world that has never been able to heal.”

Each word, each sentence, was utterly plain.

Yet Zhang Tang somehow heard from these words an indescribable sense of breathtaking shock, even chilling dread.

Chilled by a certain implication in Jian Chou’s words.

However, having spoken to this point, Jian Chou seemed to be finished, showing no intention of continuing further. She merely walked back from the edge of the Eighteenth Layer of Hell, heading toward the exit while asking: “How has Lord Zhang felt these years serving as a Yama King?”

Zhang Tang considered this, then replied: “Above men, above ghosts. Thanks to your blessing, quite well.”

Thanks to her blessing…

Jian Chou couldn’t help but smile slightly, asking in a half-joking manner: “It seems that if one day Jian Chou were to die unexpectedly, I could still count on Lord Zhang to remember today’s kindness and collect my corpse.”

Zhang Tang paused, glanced at her, then followed after her, saying: “Though this official is not skilled at managing funeral affairs, I could still manage to provide a coffin.”

To be able to answer such a question with complete seriousness—in all the Nineteen Continents, there was probably only Zhang Tang. The more Jian Chou pondered this, the more interesting she found him, as if wanting to discover what other unexpected answers he might have. She asked another question: “Then if one day this Extreme Realm were gone, destroyed by my hand, and you could no longer serve as a Yama King…”

Before she could finish, Zhang Tang had already stopped walking.

The two faced each other.

Jian Chou cut off the latter half of her sentence.

Zhang Tang stared at her fixedly for a long while, then said expressionlessly: “Then you’d better die cleanly a few days early.”

“…”

Undeniably, she was a little annoyed.

But only a little.

Immediately after, Jian Chou burst into laughter: “Haha, Lord Zhang is truly Lord Zhang indeed!”

Zhang Tang looked at her as if she were someone with a mental problem, but thinking that she was now the master of the Extreme Realm after all, he couldn’t very well drag his superior into the great prison just because of one sentence. He simply pretended not to hear this statement that didn’t sound like mockery but certainly didn’t seem like praise either, and continued walking toward the upper layer of hell.

On the way, they passed through a stretch of ruins and saw the sacrificial altar in the distance.

When Jian Chou passed a certain collapsed wall, she stopped to look at it, remembering when the Yin-Yang Realm war had just restarted, how she and Qu Zhengfeng had transmitted together through the Mitian Mirror into this layer of hell, seeing those murals in the stone chamber covered by broken walls and rubble.

Zhang Tang didn’t stop to wait for her.

She stood watching for a while, but ultimately didn’t go back in for another look, as if afraid of touching some sorrowful memory, or perhaps because in these nearly four hundred years, she had already looked countless times. Just standing outside, she could clearly recall every detail of those murals and no longer needed to look.

Turning back to follow Zhang Tang, the two left the Eighteenth Layer of Hell and returned to the City of Unjust Deaths.

After nearly four hundred years, all traces of the old Yin-Yang Realm war’s influence had completely vanished. After reincarnation was restored, the City of Unjust Deaths didn’t seem to have changed much either, except for somewhat more ghost cultivators, though not noticeably many more.

After all, cultivators of the Nineteen Continents had long lifespans and high cultivation levels, and their battles were always intense.

To enter reincarnation, one’s soul must be intact.

Often when battles were decided, cultivators had already been utterly destroyed in body and spirit—how could they enter any reincarnation?

When reincarnation was seized by Lord Qin Guang, cultivators had always felt this thing belonged to them and wanted to reclaim it. But after reclaiming it, they discovered it was merely a useless possession, barely better than nothing. Moreover, as the “Self Dao” gradually flourished in the Nineteen Continents, with more and more cultivators adhering to this path, writing treatises that spoke extensively of reincarnation’s illusory nature, speaking of “self,” of “existence,” they couldn’t be bothered to care about whatever next-life reincarnation.

Who knew whether the next life would be as human or beast?

And what did the next life as human or beast have to do with this life, with the “self”?

They simply let it be.

Naturally, there were also cultivators who condemned these practitioners of the “Self Dao” as heretical, spreading nothing but twisted and evil teachings. But they couldn’t stand against the fact that Jian Chou, who practiced the “Self Dao,” was the person with the highest cultivation and strongest power in all the Nineteen Continents and even this entire Primordial Realm. Though opponents might condemn her, they ultimately appeared somewhat weak-hearted and lacking in confidence.

And now the Extreme Realm and Nineteen Continents were not completely sealed off from each other.

What flourished in the Nineteen Continents naturally reached the Extreme Realm as well.

So among the many ghost cultivators in this City of Unjust Deaths, quite a few were unwilling to enter reincarnation again, simply cultivating in the Extreme Realm instead, waiting until their lifespans were nearly exhausted before reincarnating.

As Jian Chou and Zhang Tang walked along, looking at the ghost cultivators drinking wine in the tall buildings on both sides, they traveled in silence.

Only when they encountered King Taishan did they briefly pause to look.

After so many years of recuperation, King Taishan’s injuries had mostly healed. His imposing and robust frame remained as before, but after the Eight Directions Yama Palace became the Ten Directions Yama Palace, his relationships with everyone had grown distant. Sometimes he was in the Ten Directions City, sometimes not. Occasionally he could be spotted in corners of some tall buildings.

Like at this moment.

That heavy and dignified figure sat in a corner of a roadside tall building, back turned to the outside, so no one could see his expression clearly. One could only feel he was truly like a cold, hard mountain.

A fluffy little cat lay soft and gentle at his neck.

It crawled from his left shoulder to his right shoulder, and after a very long time, that figure finally moved slightly, gently reaching out to stroke the cat’s back.

Jian Chou ultimately still didn’t go up to greet him, only passed silently beneath the building, turning through several prosperous areas before arriving again at the entrance of that run-down old alley.

No matter how the City of Unjust Deaths changed, this place remained unchanged.

Consistently desolate and lonely as always, with moss even growing in the cracks between the stone slabs on the ground.

She and Zhang Tang passed through, leaving behind two sets of fine footprints.

Immortal Wuzhong stood inside the room, gazing at the stone statue before him that was as tall as himself, as if he had been waiting for a long time.

The sound of footsteps grew nearer, reaching the door.

Then they heard Jian Chou’s voice: “Having heard that Senior inquired about this junior’s whereabouts, Jian Chou has come to disturb you. This junior pays respects to Senior.”

Immortal Wuzhong finally turned to look at her.

She was bowing respectfully to him.

Actually, the cultivation world revered strength above all, and Jian Chou’s power had already far surpassed his by an unknowable amount. She need not perform any junior’s courtesy toward him, yet compared to the past, she showed remarkably little change—neither arrogant nor conceited.

What he saw in this female cultivator was actually that bit of worldly warmth and human feeling.

Truly rare.

Wrinkles covered his forehead, and on Immortal Wuzhong’s withered face, there suddenly appeared several traces of the sighs of one whose candle flame flickered in the wind. He only asked: “Friend Jian Chou has comprehended the ‘Nine Curves River Map’ for nearly four hundred years now. You should soon be departing for the Upper Void Immortal Realm, shouldn’t you?”

The existence of the “Nine Curves River Map” was a secret to some, but to others it had always been commonplace. Jian Chou had never kept it secret from them either.

Hearing Immortal Wuzhong mention it now, though somewhat surprised, she wasn’t entirely taken aback.

After all, Immortal Wuzhong, or rather Shangren Buyu, had been one of the River Map’s previous owners.

She didn’t conceal anything, answering truthfully: “I’ve comprehended it for a long time and finally understand following one’s heart in action. Between non-action and action, I choose the latter. I will indeed soon explore the Upper Void Immortal Realm. I wonder what instructions Senior has?”

Zhang Tang was startled to hear this.

Jian Chou had remained in this realm for too long, so much so that he had almost forgotten: Jian Chou was originally a cultivator, and with cultivation at this level, she should indeed ascend.

But why did neither of them use the word “ascension”?

He frowned slightly, looking at Jian Chou and Immortal Wuzhong.

Immortal Wuzhong sighed softly, saying: “I wouldn’t call it instructions. It’s just that if you truly reach the Upper Void and happen to encounter him, please spare him.”

Spare…

Him?

Jian Chou was momentarily bewildered, almost failing to react to who this “him” in Immortal Wuzhong’s words referred to. But in the very next moment, her mind flashed like lightning, and she was somewhat shocked.

After Qu Zhengfeng’s death, she had buried him properly, returned the Cliff Mountain Sword to its sheath atop the peak, then wandered to the Mingri Star Sea, where she encountered the former Red Butterfly of the Hidden Realm at Xiexing Mountain Manor. From her, she heard many old stories related to the Sword Emperor.

One of them was his promise to Lijun.

If he ascended to the upper realm, he would surely kill Shangren Buyu’s heart demon to repay the Shangren’s kindness.

Only this promise, Qu Zhengfeng could never complete.

Jian Chou had originally intended to fulfill all his unfinished aspirations from life, including the matter of Shangren Buyu’s heart demon, but she had never expected to hear such words at this moment.

“Senior…”

She opened her mouth, wanting to get to the bottom of this.

But Immortal Wuzhong had already turned away, merely picking up a carving knife made of pointed stone from the old desk, saying lightly: “Demons arise from the heart and are originally innocent. Let him be.”

All the words Jian Chou was about to speak suddenly couldn’t be uttered.

She gazed at Immortal Wuzhong for a long time, finally seeing that he no longer wished to say more on this matter, and so quietly took her leave.

As she left, she only saw Immortal Wuzhong concentrating on carving that stone statue.

The two emerged from the room, both feeling somewhat puzzled and confused.

Zhang Tang wanted to ask about the Upper Void Immortal Realm.

But Jian Chou was pondering the deeper meaning of Immortal Wuzhong’s request, so she frowned in concentration, walking step by step out of the old alley.

Yet just as they had walked out of the alley entrance, she suddenly shivered, realizing something was wrong.

But by the time she returned to the alley entrance, it was already too late.

Only a “crack” was heard as the pointed stone that had been used as a carving knife fell from mid-air, crashing to the ground and shattering instantly!

And Immortal Wuzhong, who had been standing in the room moments before, had vanished like dispersing smoke.

Nothing remained.

As if he had never existed at all.

Only beneath the wall stood a perfect stone sculpture, lifelike.

The female cultivator’s robes had smooth, flowing lines like moving clouds and flowing water, as if they were gentle wind and white clouds. The face that had originally been vaguely featureless had also become clear. A pair of star-like eyes gazed slightly upward toward the boundless firmament. Her full lips curved in a line—a naturally revealed strength and confidence.

Just that hint of a smile was enough to make one feel refreshed by spring breeze.

It was in no way inferior to the one in Mingri Star Sea’s plaza…

Dust swirled in the room, floating in the daylight streaming through the broken window. In the cold and lonely void, it seemed as if endless years had flowed past like a great flood.

Jian Chou gazed at that sculpture, suddenly feeling somewhat melancholy.

Having encountered the River Map in his lifetime, for that female cultivator who had casually changed his fate, Shangren Buyu had been unable to let go for a thousand years, and there might not have been no hidden resentment. But in the end, he had still directly faced his true inner heart, hadn’t he?