Xu Ying and Yuan Weiyang exchanged a glance, secretly delighted.
It was said that attending a king was like attending a tiger. Though Zhou Qiyun was no king, his moods were unpredictable—one never knew when he might strike to eliminate them.
Now that Zhou Qiyun was besieged by the Emperor of the Yin Court and the ghost Nuo Immortals, even if he fought his way free, he would surely be gravely wounded. He would be in no condition to pursue them.
This was undoubtedly the perfect moment to escape!
Suddenly, another wave of terrifying force slammed into the Great Bell. With a resounding *clang*, the falling bell was hurled high into the air, tumbling and rolling without end, crashing to earth at some unknown distance away.
"It's fine, it's fine." Xu Ying assumed the air of a seasoned veteran, offering reassurance. "I've seen this kind of situation plenty of times. Grandpa Bell will pull through. Won't you, Grandpa Bell? Grandpa Bell? Grandpa Bell! Wake up... Don't worry—it just faints like this regularly. It'll be fine soon."
The Great Bell sailed over the mountains, flying an indeterminate distance before clattering to the ground. It bounced up, fell again, rolled over who knew how many times, and only then came to a stop.
Inside the Great Bell, Yuan Qi was the first to tumble out, flopping onto his back and lying flat—he had been knocked apart again, his bones scattered.
Xu Ying's whole body was numb and sore, his legs weak. He managed to stagger out of the Great Bell.
Behind him, Yuan Weiyang had barely stepped out when she sat down on the ground. She tried to stand, but her legs were too weak, and she had to beat them first.
Xiao Bo, the blue-robed elder, leaned against the Great Bell and was violently retching.
To protect them and carry them out of the Yin Court, the Great Bell had enlarged itself to roughly ten zhang in diameter, absorbing far more impact than usual. The result was severe injuries.
It lay unconscious, unable to shrink back down.
Xu Ying tried channeling some qi and blood into it, but it did not wake.
"Grandpa Bell was gravely wounded by a qi refiner skilled in spatial arts. That refiner healed the external injuries, but the internal damage remains—and it has never recovered," Xu Ying explained to Yuan Weiyang. "It keeps stealing my qi and blood to heal..."
Yuan Qi reminded him, "Grandpa Bell said it *pilfered* your qi and blood."
Xu Ying stepped forward and, with considerable effort, realigned the great serpent's displaced bones. "It keeps pilfering my qi and blood to heal. This fainting shouldn't be serious—I just need to train hard and supply it with enough qi and blood, and it will wake."
Yuan Weiyang helped move the serpent's body. "If Grandpa Bell won't wake, how are we going to carry it?"
Xu Ying shook his head. "No need to worry about that. Before it lost consciousness, Grandpa Bell likely already made arrangements."
He finished setting the serpent's bones. Yuan Qi's strength returned. Xu Ying took over thirty steps forward, but nothing happened behind him. He was puzzled. "Could Grandpa Bell have forgotten?"
Yuan Weiyang was also puzzled, not understanding what he meant. Xu Ying took one more step. Suddenly, the Great Bell let out a *clang* and shifted forward to follow him.
Xu Ying's heart lifted. He laughed. "Grandpa Bell didn't forget after all!"
He broke into a run, and the enormous bell followed close behind, ringing with every step. Wherever it passed, a billowing cloud of dust rose into the air. Yuan Qi and Yuan Weiyang trailed behind him, choking on the dust. They rushed ahead of him instead.
This was, after all, a domain of the Yin Court, teeming with every manner of demon and ghost. Hearing the commotion, they raised their heads from the ghostly mountains and ravines to look their way.
They beheld an absurdly massive Great Bell chasing three people and a serpent—a truly fearsome sight. The demons and ghosts were baffled. "A bell ghost? There's such a thing?"
"The world grows more chaotic by the day," an old ghost sighed. "Every kind of ghost is coming out now."
The demons craned their necks, gazing curiously. "Where are those three people and that serpent headed? Are they newly dead? That direction leads to territory not yet under the Yin Court's rule. Do they mean to seek death because the underworld isn't peaceful enough?"
"Why not stay and let us feast on them?"
Xu Ying and the others had never been here before. How could they know where they were? Focused only on escaping Zhou Qiyun's grasp, they headed toward the Hall of Heavenly Gods. But the underworld was a maze of mountains, and before long they lost all sense of direction.
Xu Ying looked up at the sky. The night over the underworld was deep and dark. Fog had rolled in without warning, blanketing the ground in a thick haze that obscured all paths.
The fog lay heavy and low, reaching their thighs as they walked. Before long, the hems of their trousers were soaked. Xu Ying circulated his origin qi to evaporate the moisture, then looked up. Above the willow branches hung a waning moon.
He channeled his sword qi. Suddenly, a surge of sword energy flowed from the sword casket at his back, wrapping around his body. The rotation grew faster and faster.
*Whoosh!*
Xu Ying shot into the sky, and the Great Bell followed with a howl, soaring upward.
Below, Yuan Qi and Xiao Bo hurriedly looked up. They saw Xu Ying become a streaking afterimage, the Great Bell trailing behind as they climbed higher and higher.
Then, another beam of light shot up beside them—it was Yuan Weiyang, pursuing Xu Ying into the sky.
The sword qi enveloping the two of them dimmed slightly. They hovered in the sky, sword energy whirling around them at great speed, forming a spinning, shuttle-shaped ring of blade light.
Xu Ying and Yuan Weiyang looked around. The mountains stretched on all sides, shrouded in fog, their direction impossible to discern. Even the Yin Court had vanished from sight.
Yuan Weiyang descended. "Two pieces of news. The good news is Zhou Qiyun won't be finding us. The bad news is we can't find him either. We're lost."
Xu Ying descended from the sky. When he landed, the Great Bell crashed down beside him with an earth-shaking thunder.
Suddenly, something in the fog seemed to have been startled by the bell's toll and scattered in all directions. They were numerous and tiny—hidden in the fog, impossible to detect.
Xiao Bo gave a great shout, channeling his origin qi and spirit sense. Instantly, the fog within a hundred-acre radius was blown clear.
Though the creatures were fast, Xiao Bo's power as a Great Nuo master was overwhelming. They could not hide in time and were revealed to everyone.
These were pale-faced little ghosts—appearing like children of three or four years old. Their bodies were ghastly white, wearing only white shorts. They moved on all fours with astonishing speed.
In the blink of an eye, they vanished without a trace.
"Nothing but a few little ghosts," Xiao Bo said, exhaling in relief.
"Hee hee hee." Laughter drifted from the fog.
Soon the fog rolled in again, engulfing them. Xu Ying walked forward and found himself surrounded by tall willows, their branches swaying in the night.
The little ghosts lurked in the fog, appearing and disappearing. Occasionally they would climb a willow tree, crouching among the branches, giggling at them nonstop.
They climbed in a strange manner—feet nimble as an ape's, gripping the bark as they ascended, seemingly on flat ground, reaching the upper branches in no time.
They leaped from branch to branch like agile apes.
"A-Ying, where are we?" Yuan Qi trailed behind at the rear, yawning weakly. "I'm so sleepy. I have no energy."
Xu Ying halted. "I was wondering whether we should stop and wait for Zhou Qiyun to find us and rescue us. We're truly lost—Xiao Qi, what's wrong?"
Yuan Weiyang turned at the sound and gasped. In the span of a heartbeat, Yuan Qi—the massive, fat serpent—had become emaciated, his body skin and bones.
On the serpent's back, ghost children had gathered at some unseen moment, each one grinning as they puckered their lips and sucked his yang energy one mouthful at a time.
Even more ghost children were blowing at Yuan Qi's yang fires. Of the three yang fires, two had already been extinguished!
The last yang fire burned atop Yuan Qi's head—the most vigorous of the three. It had not yet been blown out, but it flickered violently in the wind, threatening to die at any moment.
"What on earth are these little ghosts?"
Before Yuan Weiyang could finish the thought, she saw a ghost child perched on Xiao Bo's neck, covering his eyes with both hands while grinning ear to ear.
Xiao Bo's eyes were wide and unblinking as he spoke earnestly to a willow tree—clearly believing the tree was himself!
"He's been blinded by a ghost!" Yuan Weiyang was both shocked and furious.
Xiao Bo could still walk, but what only the gods knew was what he actually saw.
Xu Ying spotted the ghost child on Xiao Bo's back and reached out to grab it, shouting, "What鬼东西—what is this thing?"
Yuan Weiyang saw clearly that his hand passed straight through the ghost child's body, touching nothing.
These ghost children were spirits—they had no physical bodies. Xu Ying had never learned Nuo arts for dealing with spirits and could not touch them.
At that moment, Yuan Weiyang suddenly felt her vision tilt. She cried out, "Xu the Demon King—do I have a ghost child on my back, covering my eyes?"
Xu Ying looked. Two ghost children had climbed onto Yuan Weiyang's back. One was covering her eyes, the other was grinning as it held up two fingers, plugging both her ears.
More ghost children clambered onto Yuan Weiyang's back, trying to blow out the two yang fires on her shoulders.
Xu Ying hurriedly said, "Brother Yuan—have you learned any Nuo arts for dealing with spirits?"
Yuan Weiyang could no longer hear him or see where he was. Her vision and hearing had both been seized by the ghost children.
Xu Ying was alarmed and enraged. But he noticed the ghost children only attacked Yuan Weiyang, Yuan Qi, and Xiao Bo—they avoided him entirely.
He suddenly remembered: he had consumed countless Myriad Spirit Pills, transforming his soul into an Indestructible True Spirit nearly solid. Wielding the White Bone Soul-Whip, he could even beat the spirits of the ruined temple world until they howled!
"My soul is immensely strong, so they don't dare attack me. But how do I channel the power of my soul?"
A flash of inspiration struck. When he had practiced the Grand Unity Daoyin Art during the gate-knocking stage, he had clearly sensed his soul growing. He immediately activated the Grand Unity Daoyin Art, carefully feeling out his soul, recalling the moment when the Great Bell's toll had shaken his soul out of his body.
*Thump!* Yuan Qi collapsed to the ground. The great serpent lay emaciated, mouth agape, snoring deeply. The ghost children continued blowing on the yang fire atop his head with dogged persistence.
That yang fire was the most vigorous of the three and would not be easily extinguished. But should it be blown out, his lifespan would be spent—and he would become a ghost!
"What do you think you're doing to my young master?!" Xiao Bo suddenly roared, and fell upon a willow tree with vicious blows. He had taken it for someone else entirely and struck with full force.
Yuan Weiyang was still holding on to reason, but she knew her senses were compromised—anything she said or did would be wrong. She simply stood in place, waiting.
Gradually, Xu Ying's connection to his soul grew stronger. His spirit sense fused ever more closely with his soul.
He raised a hand and tapped his own brow.
Xu Ying's expression went blank. He turned around and saw himself still standing—his physical body had fallen to the ground. Once again, his soul had grown too powerful and had been shaken from his body.
He had no time to worry about that. With a fierce roar, the radiance of his Indestructible True Spirit blazed from every pore, shining brilliant soul-light in all directions!
*Whoosh—*
The ghost children shrieked, struck by the soul-light. Their bodies twisted into knots, tumbling from Yuan Weiyang, Xiao Bo, and Yuan Qi.
Xu Ying's soul, following the method of the Grand Unity Daoyin Art, drew upon his origin qi. The glow around him intensified, pressing down on the ghost children. They screamed as their bodies shrank even smaller.
Xu Ying checked Yuan Qi. The great serpent was still snoring, but the yang fire on his head had not been extinguished. He breathed a sigh of relief.
Yuan Weiyang and Xiao Bo had both regained their senses as well.
Xu Ying relaxed slightly, letting his soul-light dim. The ghost children clambered to their feet, faces full of reverence for him. They murmured appeasing ghost-words he could not understand, slowly retreating.
The ghost children that had stolen Yuan Qi's yang energy hopped onto his body and spat it back. Soon the other two yang fires reignished, growing steadily stronger.
Having returned the yang energy, they stared at Xu Ying with ingratiating smiles, chattering ghost-words as though whispering among themselves. Slowly, they melted into the mist and vanished.
"These ghost children—bullies who prey on the weak and fear the strong." Xu Ying shook his head, then roused Yuan Qi.
Yuan Qi was bewildered. "What happened? Why did I fall asleep?"
He was a gate-knocking stage qi refiner, and Xiao Bo a Great Nuo master—yet both had been blinded by these seemingly frail little ghosts and nearly died. The realization set Xu Ying on edge.
"Something's not right here. Everyone be careful. Stay close together—we need to get out of this willow grove!"
---
Back in the Yin Court, Zhou Qiyun weathered the attacks of the Nuo Immortals, advancing step by step toward the Hall of Samhara. As he climbed the final few stairs, his aura erupted. He withstood the backlash from clashing with the Nuo arts—waves of force so powerful they shook the Yin Court's magnificent Hidden Landscape Sanctified Grounds.
The ghost Nuo Immortals within those sanctified grounds feared retaliation and ceased their attacks.
The Emperor of the Yin Court in the Hall of Samhara also stopped.
Zhou Qiyun ascended the last stone step and entered the hall. Inside sat an immortal of refined features, with a sword wound in his forehead—a wound that pierced clean through his skull.
The sword that killed him had been an eight-sided blade.
He was a corpse, after all.
His Primordial Spirit hovered behind him. It had been the Primordial Spirit that clashed with Zhou Qiyun.
"Master Zhou, your strength has already surpassed that of the Zhidao Dasheng Emperor in his day. You have fused qi cultivation and Nuo arts, and you approach the bearing of a true Grandmaster," the Emperor of the Yin Court praised. "Your lifespan nears its end. If you have come to seize power, then I shall abdicate and let you inherit the throne."
Zhou Qiyun sat down upon the floor, meeting the Emperor's gaze. His expression was calm. "I did not come to steal the Yin Court's power."
The Emperor of the Yin Court frowned. "Then your purpose—could it be like the Zhidao Dasheng Emperor's, to sign a pact dividing dominion over the mortal realm to you and the underworld to me?"
He laughed. "I can sign such a pact with you. But when you have no strength, a pact is nothing but waste paper—not even worth wiping one's rear."
Zhou Qiyun shook his head. "Nor did I come to settle the mortal realm."
The Emperor of the Yin Court's expression grew serious. His voice deepened. "Then why have you come?"
Zhou Qiyun spoke, word by word: "I want to transcend—and ascend to immortality."