Thick fog rolled in, bone-chilling and piercing.
Mu Gesheng hurled a flower coin, kicking aside a *chang-ghost* that lunged at him. He stood upon the Yinyang Ladder, surrounded by a shimmering, eerie green light.
The Yinyang Ladder led directly from the realm of the living to Fengdu, a winding path of nine great turns. It was a grueling distance; he had been moving at a dead run and was not yet halfway, yet he had already slain several malevolent spirits along the way. These ghosts usually never left Fengdu. Mu Gesheng had traversed the Yinyang Ladder several times before and had never seen a single soul haunting the steps.
Now, with ghosts swarming everywhere, it was clear that Fengdu had fallen into utter chaos.
Mu Gesheng felt a flicker of apprehension. He had been reckless to charge in alone; with Song Wentong absent, he couldn't light the Small Sky Lanterns. He could only strike down whatever crossed his path. As he descended deeper, the monsters grew more numerous. He couldn't allow these things to reach the surface; he had to intercept them here. At the same time, he had to reach the very bottom to close the Yinyang Ladder.
As for how he would get out once it was closed, or what state Fengdu was currently in—Mu Gesheng pinned a ghost down with a coin and kicked another off the long staircase.
He had no time to worry about that.
The mist grew heavier, the moisture seemingly coalescing into form, like slick, ghostly hands dragging at him, trying to pull him to a halt. Mu Gesheng’s vision blurred; there was nothing but fog and the stairs extending infinitely downward.
He came to a sudden, jarring halt.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
***
Meanwhile, at the West City Gate of Fengdu.
Looking down from above, the Yin Soldiers had poured out of the Avici Realm. They were no longer the solemn, disciplined ranks of old, but a chaotic tide battering the walls of the West City Gate like a besieging army.
Ghostly marshals and kings stood atop the battlements, leading their spectral troops in a desperate defense. The earth shook and the heavens trembled; the wailing of vengeful spirits mingled with the neighing of phantom steeds. Gusts of yin wind formed massive vortices, turning the West City Gate into a literal Shura field.
"Hold the line! All quarters, hold!" Cui Ziyu stood on the wall, swaying in the violent gales. "Pressure the southeast! Do not let the formation break!"
High above, several figures hovered in the air: the Ten Yama Kings, along with Wu Nie and Wu Zixu.
One of the Yama Kings spoke: "If the Great One opens this array, it will save Fengdu from the fire."
"I’m a dead woman; I don't care for such trifles," Wu Nie said, hovering in mid-air while cracking melon seeds. She glanced at the man beside her. "Once this array opens, the myriad ghosts will be unleashed. Fengdu’s crisis will be resolved, but you will be trapped in a quagmire. Have you thought this through?"
"Fengdu must not fall." Wu Zixu shook his head. "Please, open the array."
"Existing in Hell, yet ignorant of Avici." Wu Nie spat out a seed shell, her expression nonchalant. "If you ask me, a fight is just what we need. Fengdu is getting too crowded anyway. The Yama Halls can't manage it, so let the Yin Soldiers clear the floor."
The young girl’s words were like a stinging slap to the face, yet the Yama Kings showed no anger. They merely said, "Great One, please reconsider."
"You’re the ones who should reconsider. If the things inside this gate get out, they won't necessarily obey the commands of the Ten Yama Kings. When that happens, no one’s seat in Fengdu will be secure." Wu Nie gave Wu Zixu a half-smile. "Including the Wu clan, right?"
Wu Zixu remained silent, offering Wu Nie a deep, respectful bow.
Wu Nie looked at him and sighed. "How can one find a way to satisfy both sides? Since ancient times, loyalty and filial piety have rarely been compatible. Fine, fine—you unfilial descendant."
Before her voice had even faded, Wu Nie leaped into the air, soaring directly above the battlefield. Her hands blurred as she wove a series of complex seals. In an instant, light began to flow, and a decorative flower ball appeared out of thin air.
Wu Nie leaped again. The thick clouds above the West City Gate parted layer by layer. She stood alone at the highest point, her slender waist bending and her head bobbing in a rhythmic dance, looking like a young girl performing acrobatics at the Ghost Market by the River of Forgetfulness, playing with a flower ball upon a twelve-fold table.
The sounds of slaughter became her music; she danced to break the siege.
Cui Ziyu looked up at the figure in the sky. Coarse golden light traced the shape of flames, outlining a burning silhouette of red.
Finally, Wu Nie tossed the flower ball into the air. It soared upward and exploded into a crimson lotus. Wu Nie sat cross-legged within the heart of the flower, one hand pointing to the heavens and the other to the earth. Golden seal script emerged from the surroundings as the lotus transitioned from bud to bloom, slowly unfurling its petals.
The world believed that only the Jinwu Lamps could light the eternal night of Fengdu, but at this moment, the lotus in the sky bloomed with a radiant, magnificent light that turned the darkness into day.
Simultaneously, a massive array lit up beneath the West City Gate. The two lights mirrored each other, enveloping the countless Yin Soldiers. The world fell silent, bathed in a flood of brilliant light.
The Ten Yama Kings stood upon the wall, bowing their heads in unison.
Wu Zixu looked toward the sky and whispered, "In the eternal night of the Netherworld, Taisui sits cross-legged upon the lotus."
"Infinite is the space between."
Cui Ziyu stood outside the city gate and gave a long, deep bow toward the radiance above. Behind him, ten thousand ghosts knelt in a line that stretched beyond sight.
After a long time, the lotus withered, the light faded, and Fengdu was once again shrouded in night.
The space within the West City Gate was empty. The Yin Soldiers had vanished completely.
***
Mu Gesheng heard the sound of dripping water.
At first, he thought he had reached the banks of the River of Forgetfulness, but the thick fog still lingered. Such heavy mist didn't exist by the Wangchuan. Mu Gesheng looked around and realized that the ghosts that had been hounding him had disappeared.
Vengeful spirits possessed deep resentment and would not dissipate easily. With the chaos in Fengdu, this was their best chance to escape. For them to suddenly vanish meant either the crisis in Fengdu had been resolved, or they were terrified of something nearby.
Everything was silent, save for the continuous dripping.
*Drip. Drip. Drip.*
*Drip. Drip.*
*Drip.*
The sound seemed to come from ahead, yet it also seemed to surround him. Mu Gesheng descended a few more steps and tentatively reached out into the fog. His hand met something icy cold.
It wasn't water. It was something hard, with the coarse texture of leather. Mu Gesheng’s expression shifted instantly, and he recoiled. In the next heartbeat, a blade sliced through the fog, whistling toward the spot where he had just been standing.
What he had touched was a suit of armor!
Mu Gesheng’s head throbbed with sudden realization. There were plenty of armored ghost officials in Fengdu, but connecting everything that had happened recently, there was only one possibility that came to mind—the Yin Soldiers!
He strained to look and saw the bluestone of the stairs crack as a massive bronze saber slammed into it. The hilt hummed, yet the wielder remained invisible in the mist. The Yinyang Ladder was built from Nine Nether Bluestone, cold and incredibly hard; it was not something ordinary iron could break. Before Mu Gesheng could catch his breath, the stairs beneath him shuddered violently. The thunderous sound of hooves rose from the depths, mingled with the faint, rhythmic clack of a wooden clapper.
Mu Gesheng’s face went pale. Armor, bronze sabers, hooves, and the clapper—he would have to be an idiot not to realize what was happening. Without a doubt, the Yin Soldiers who were supposed to be rioting at the West City Gate had somehow diverted to the Yinyang Ladder!
The Yinyang Ladder was by the River of Forgetfulness, far from the Avici Realm. For the Yin Soldiers to get here, they would have had to cross the entire city of Fengdu. What on earth had happened back there?
The Ten Yama Kings, the Ten Marshals, the Four Judges, and the Yinyang family were all stationed there—could none of them stop this?
Mu Gesheng didn't dare to be arrogant. He had no chance of winning a direct confrontation with the Yin Soldiers. He prepared to turn and flee back up the stairs, but then he froze.
If he retreated, who would protect the citizens in the city above?
If he didn't retreat, he knew he would likely die.
In that split second, Mu Gesheng’s mind raced. The absolute priority was to prevent the Yin Soldiers from ascending the ladder and reaching the human world. He couldn't turn back. He had to go down, all the way to the bottom, and close the Yinyang Ladder. Only by trapping the Yin Soldiers within the millions of stone steps could he find a sliver of hope.
There was no other way. The sound of hooves was now within a stone's throw. Mu Gesheng turned back, adjusted his breathing, and pressed several acupoints. This was a technique he had learned from Song Wentong; it sharpened the five senses and increased speed by forcing the heart to pump blood faster, inducing a state of high alertness. However, it had one major drawback: the sensation of pain would be doubled.
The lead cavalry was already upon him. Mu Gesheng crouched low and kicked the belly of a phantom horse. The steed reared in fright, throwing its rider. Mu Gesheng seized the reins, throwing out two flower coins—one struck the fallen soldier’s head, and the other was jammed into the horse’s mouth. The soldier was pinned by the coin’s power, frozen in place. Mu Gesheng snatched the long spear from the soldier’s hand, vaulted onto the horse, and decapitated the next soldier with a backhand swing. Then, with a sharp arc of green light, he sliced through the legs of the horses in front of him.
Mu Gesheng knew he couldn't trade blows with the Yin Soldiers. He wasn't skilled with cold weapons; he could only swing them with momentum. If that strike had come from Song Wentong, it would have been enough to topple every rider within ten feet. Mu Gesheng could only use trickery to disable the horses, slipping through as the soldiers fell. His goal wasn't to win the battle, but to create chaos—to block the soldiers' advance while carving a path for himself.
Seeing the front ranks in disarray, Mu Gesheng spurred his horse into the fray. Normally, this would be suicide, but these soldiers seemed weakened, as if they had just come from a grueling battle. He held a flower coin between his teeth, desperately dodging attacks. But mounted combat was not his forte; before long, he was covered in wounds. The deepest was at his waist, a jagged gash that bled profusely.
Run. He had to keep running. Mu Gesheng used the power of the flower coins to drive the horse faster, until man and mount were little more than a blur.
The doubled pain lashed at his nerves. Mu Gesheng fought to stay conscious, calculating the distance. There wasn't much of the ladder left. Once he reached the bottom, he could use the flower coins to forcibly seal the stairs. But in the next moment, the light above him vanished as a massive shadow loomed. A towering Yin Soldier on a black steed leaped into the air, aiming to crush him underfoot!
Mu Gesheng had no time to steer the horse away. He yanked the coin from the horse's mouth, threw himself off the saddle, and rolled across the bluestone steps. He tumbled a long way before finally slamming into a bronze lampstand.
Mu Gesheng’s face was masked in blood. He forced himself to stand. He knew he had reached the end; this bronze lampstand marked the base of the Yinyang Ladder. Nearby, he could hear the sound of flowing water—the Wangchuan.
The soldiers pursuing him reined in their horses a short distance away. A raspy, cackling sound echoed, like someone laughing in secret. Through his blurred vision, Mu Gesheng saw someone raising a blade, preparing to throw it at his head.
He spat out the coin along with a mouthful of blood. Using his finger, he traced a complex rune on the ground with his own gore. A sharp, piercing whistle tore through the air, aimed straight for his brow. Mu Gesheng didn't dodge. He roared with every ounce of strength: "CLOSE!"
In the next second, an agonizing, soul-tearing pain erupted in his head. Mu Gesheng’s vision went black, and he lost consciousness completely.
***
He heard the sound of a wooden clapper.
Snow was falling from the sky, and everything he could see was pure white.
Mu Gesheng lay in the snow, hearing a song rise from the ground. It was slow and wandering, sometimes distant, sometimes near, at times thin as a thread, at others flowing like waves.
*Heaven and earth are vast and grey; let us offer a single cup.*
*Sun and moon drift leisurely; filling up a single sleeve.*
*Mountains and rivers are grand and wide; a single sketch in ink.*
*Sentient beings hesitate; a floating life is but a day.*
*Where am I?* Mu Gesheng struggled to sit up. He found himself wearing white robes with wide sleeves. The world was empty, save for the white snow, the long song, and the intermittent sound of the clapper.
*Am I dead?* Mu Gesheng thought. A Tiansuan Master’s soul was supposed to dissipate upon death, never entering the cycle of reincarnation. Was this his final destination?
No, that wasn't right. He realized he wasn't a full Tiansuan Master yet. Then what was this place?
Mu Gesheng sat there for a moment, looking up at the sky. He realized that it wasn't snow falling, but paper money.
The paper money drifted down, turning into snow upon the ground. The world was silent, draped in nothing but white.
After a moment, he suddenly jumped up and ran toward the sound of the clapper. He ran barefoot through the snow, his footprints winding behind him before being quickly buried.
The song went on. Mu Gesheng didn't know how long he ran; he felt neither cold nor sensation. Finally, at the edge of his vision, he saw a figure holding a wooden clapper, sleeves fluttering in the wind, repeatedly chanting those same four lines.
When Mu Gesheng finally reached the figure, before he could speak, the person asked: "From where have you come? To where do you go?"
"I come from the Wangchuan," Mu Gesheng paused, then said, "I wish to go to the world of men."
After a long silence, the white-clad figure struck the clapper and sang a long, haunting note.
"O Soul, return—"
***
Mu Gesheng bolted upright, suddenly awake.
The sound of water murmured nearby, and a green lamp flickered.
"Awake?" The person rowing the boat turned around. "How do you feel?"
Mu Gesheng had sat up too quickly; his head spun. It took a long time for his vision to clear and recognize the person before him: Wu Nie. She was rowing a boat through a field of blooming green lotuses. They were on the River of Forgetfulness.
"I’m..." Mu Gesheng looked down at himself. He was wrapped up like a mummy; there was hardly a spot on his body left untouched. He tried to move his arm, but a jolt of sharp pain shot through him.
"A few days ago, you fought the Yin Soldiers and narrowly managed to seal the Yinyang Ladder. But the gap in strength was too great. You overreached and nearly died of your injuries," Wu Nie said casually. "Since we’re acquaintances, I’m ferrying you across the Wangchuan to the Yama Halls. Maybe you’ll get a better life in your next reincarnation."
"Great One, stop joking. What dead person doesn't get a coffin and instead gets buried wrapped in bandages?" Mu Gesheng said, his head throbbing. "How long was I out? What actually happened?"
"Boring boy." Wu Nie rolled her eyes, continuing to row. "You’ve been asleep for seven days. It’s a miracle you kept that flower coin in your mouth; it’s the only thing that kept you alive. That boy from the Medicine clan treated you himself. You’ve only just started to improve. Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to leave your bed for a year."
"Sanjiu? Where is he?"
"He made a quick trip to Fengdu, treated you, and then scurried back. All the scions are busy right now."
"I saw the Yin Soldiers on the Yinyang Ladder. What was that about?"
"Oh, that. I did it."
"You what?!"
"I am Taisui. I took up residence in Fengdu centuries ago. As an elder of the Yinyang family, I also have the duty of guarding this place," Wu Nie explained. "On the twentieth day of the ninth lunar month, the Yin Soldiers broke out. Fengdu would have been decimated. So, I stepped in and used a massive array to divert the rioting soldiers into the Yinyang Ladder."
"Do you have any idea what the consequences of that are?!"
"I do. It cost me five hundred years of my cultivation."
Wu Nie looked at the speechless Mu Gesheng and raised an eyebrow. "Enough. I know what you’re getting at. Sending the Yin Soldiers into the Yinyang Ladder is the same as diverting Fengdu’s disaster to the east. The human world will be devastated."
Mu Gesheng didn't know what to say. They both understood the weight of the trade-off.
And he could probably guess why Wu Nie had done it.
"Once the Yinyang Ladder is closed, the path from the human world to Fengdu is severed. However, one can still return to the living world by traveling upstream along the Wangchuan," Wu Nie said. "You’ve exhausted yourself. The power you can draw from the flower coins is barely a fraction of what it should be. You managed to seal the ladder last time, but it won't hold for long."
"...How much time do I have?"
"You’ve been asleep for seven days. It will take about half a month for the Yin Soldiers to break through the seal," Wu Nie said. "Whether to advance or retreat, to leave or to stay—make your preparations early."
"What do you mean?"
"You understand me." Wu Nie looked back at Mu Gesheng. "The Yin Soldiers are rioting. Even the Ten Yama Kings are helpless. The grievances accumulated in the Avici Realm for a thousand years cannot be suppressed; they can only be resolved through slaughter."
"With the strength of your city alone, it is impossible to hold them back."
***
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