The Stone Library of the Netherworld

On the way, Han Li encountered a few villagers, who cast curious glances at his unfamiliar face but did not stop to question him.

He reached his destination without trouble.

Looking at the worn, pitch-black stone hut before him, Han Li hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and giving the door a gentle push. It did not budge.

Was there some mechanism on this door? Han Li was mildly surprised. But he took a deep breath and put his full strength into both arms.

Although he had not trained in any external martial arts, after the marrow-washing and tendon-transforming processes of Foundation Establishment and Core Formation, he could muster a few hundred jin of force.

A heavy creaking sound came from the door. Slowly, inch by inch, it was forced open.

A surge of relief washed over Han Li.

It was only then that he noticed the door was more than twice as thick as an ordinary stone door. No wonder he had almost thought there was a mechanism involved.

With a flicker of movement, Han Li stepped inside. A wave of rotting, dank air hit him in the face.

His expression tightening, Han Li immediately held his breath.

A moment later, fresh air from outside rushed in, and the atmosphere inside the room gradually returned to normal.

He let out a light breath. By the faint light from the doorway, he surveyed the interior.

The place was starkly simple. Apart from rows of roughly identical stone tablets lining the walls, the only other furnishing was a coarse stone table placed in the center of the room.

The tablets were about a zhang wide and two zhang tall, making them quite massive. Seeing them, Han Li could not help but be taken aback for a moment.

On the stone table, there were no books or bamboo slips—only a few magic tools that seemed to have lost their luster.

The surprise on Han Li’s face quickly faded. After thinking it over, he gave a wry, silent chuckle.

This was not the outside world. Where would paper or bamboo be found here? Things like jade slips were naturally unusable without spiritual power.

These stone tablets were clearly the records kept in this place. The inscriptions on them were presumably the experiences and insights left behind by those cultivators.

As for the magic tools on the table, they were likely like his own flying swords—tools their owners had not yet stored away before being pulled into this place along with their bodies. Naturally, they could not be put back into a storage pouch.

As for storage pouches, Han Li did not see a single one in the room. It seemed their owners had their own methods of handling them and had not placed them on display.

After taking in the scene, Han Li casually walked over to one of the stone tablets and glanced at it.

It was covered in a thick layer of dust, a blurry gray mass that made it impossible to see what was carved into it.

Frowning, Han Li stepped closer, not minding the dirt. He tore off a strip of cloth from his robe and gently wiped the surface.

After a moment, clear, legible inscriptions emerged before his eyes.

The script was not the common writing used in the current cultivation world but a relatively rare ancient script. Fortunately, Han Li had dabbled in a wide variety of subjects and could recognize it without much difficulty.

But after only a few glances at the tablet, he lost interest.

This was merely a miscellaneous account of a Qi Condensation cultivator recording his life’s experiences. Han Li naturally had no desire to read it in depth. He immediately turned to the other tablets.

There were over twenty stone tablets in the room. When Han Li wiped and examined the sixth one, his expression finally flickered, and he stopped in his tracks. This was exactly what he had been looking for—the cultivation insights left behind by a Nascent Soul cultivator.

Standing motionless before the tablet for an unknown length of time, Han Li finally let out a long breath, a complex expression on his face.

“So condensing a Nascent Soul has this many taboos. It seems that without knowing these things, even with the aid of the Nine-Bend Spirit Ginseng, my chances of success wouldn’t be very high. Falling into this Netherworld Domain this time… I really can’t say whether it’s a blessing or a curse,” Han Li murmured to himself.

Although the tablet did not contain a single line of specific cultivation technique, the unnamed Nascent Soul cultivator had recorded in meticulous detail his entire process—from Foundation Establishment, to Core Formation, and then to the experience of condensing his Nascent Soul. Reading it, Han Li felt a mixture of shock and joy. Guided by the insights of a Nascent Soul cultivator, he could avoid many detours and, more importantly, correct some mistaken assumptions about Nascent Soul condensation.

After reading the tablet several times to make sure he had not missed anything, Han Li turned his head with satisfaction and looked at the remaining tablets.

He had originally intended to leave, but on second thought, since he had already read nearly half of them, he might as well finish the rest and broaden his knowledge a bit.

Thus, with a relaxed demeanor, he read through them one by one.

As expected, the remaining tablets contained nothing useful to him. Even if some of them recorded techniques and formulas, compared to the Profound Yin Scripture he possessed, they were utterly unremarkable.

After about the time it takes to eat a meal, Han Li reached the last tablet.

He absentmindedly wiped away the dust and gave it a cursory glance before his face showed an expression of unexpected astonishment.

This stone tablet was completely different from the ones before it. Its surface was densely packed with countless characters as small as grains of rice—far smaller than any of the previous inscriptions.

And with one sweeping glance, Han Li realized that the text was written in two completely different scripts. One was the ordinary ancient script he could recognize. The other was the demon beast script he had seen many times before.

His curiosity thoroughly piqued, Han Li stepped forward and began to study it closely.

After reading only a small portion, a faint sense of excitement stirred within him.

This stone tablet was a scripture dedicated entirely to teaching the written language of the demon race. It was incredibly detailed, explaining every single character. This was undoubtedly carved by a cultivator who had a masterful understanding of demon script.

Although Han Li could not immediately master it just by reading it, if he memorized the entire text and took the time to comprehend it later, he could truly learn the demon language.

If that happened, then the demon race copper piece he had obtained long ago and the animal-skin scroll would finally reveal what kind of demon race techniques they recorded.

As for whether a human could actually practice demon race techniques, Han Li did not trouble himself with such deep thoughts.

Even if those techniques were completely useless to him, learning the demon script would only bring benefits, not harm. Who knew when it might come in handy?

After all, this opportunity was incredibly rare.

Spending a considerable amount of time, Han Li relied on his photographic memory to firmly engrave the text from both sides of the tablet into his mind, memorizing it character by character without missing a single one.

Only then did he let out a long breath and leave the room. He did not spare a single glance at the magic tools on the table.

Exiting the stone hut, Han Li circled the village a few times. Whenever he saw some unusual structures, he would stop to take a closer look and strike up a conversation with the nearby villagers.

Fortunately, the original inhabitants of this village seemed relatively simple and honest. While they were not particularly warm toward a stranger, they answered whatever he asked without holding back.

From this, Han Li quickly learned some basic common sense about the Netherworld Domain.

For instance, because there were no iron deposits here, they had to use the bones of certain particularly tough Yin Beasts to make weapons.

Of course, it was not as simple as taking the bones and using them directly as weapon materials. They had to be soaked in advance in a liquid called “Camphor Water.”

This process made the bone materials not only three-tenths harder than before but also imbued them with some Yin Fire power. After being forged into weapons, they had a special killing effect against Yin Beasts.

However, because the Yin Fire could not last, the weapons had to be soaked in Camphor Water periodically to maintain their lethality.

This piqued Han Li’s curiosity about this so-called “Camphor Water.”

Additionally, the Netherworld Domain had a few days each month known as Yin Wind Days. During these periods, most areas would be swept by a bone-chilling black Yin Wind, making it impossible for humans to venture out. Anyone caught in this wind would be transformed into a black ice sculpture. Only within the village, shielded by certain spells, could the villagers remain safe.

On the other hand, Yin Wind Days were when Yin Beasts were most active. Incidents like today’s—single beasts or entire packs attacking the village—were common, keeping the villagers in a constant state of anxiety.

Han Li gathered quite a bit of information of this sort. On a sudden impulse, he also inquired about the identity of the narrow-eyed, pale-faced man who seemed hostile toward him.

From this, he learned that the man’s surname was Feng and that he, too, had been sucked in from the outside a few years ago.

No one knew what he had done before, but he possessed astonishing martial arts skills and had killed powerful Yin Beasts on several occasions. His contributions to the village were significant, which was why, despite his youth, he had been recommended as a village elder. He was responsible for teaching martial skills to the village’s young people and held considerable prestige among them.

Hearing this, while Han Li was not particularly afraid, he inwardly frowned, finding the matter somewhat troublesome.

After strolling around the village for a while longer and seeing all there was to see, Han Li leisurely made his way back to his own house.

Just as he reached the doorway, he heard a man’s voice coming from inside.

“What do you think? Everything I said came from the heart. If Miss Mei is willing to marry me, not only will you never have to worry about food, but you won’t have to risk your life leaving the village so often. I have been single all these years. I am not a frivolous man. I have truly taken a liking to you.” It was the middle-aged man surnamed Feng, who had somehow already entered the house.