The King of Chujiang of the Underworld

Numinous Wood was an exceedingly spiritual essence, a rare treasure of the ages. Whether refining the Elixir of Deathless Longevity or forging a divine weapon of peerless might, adding even a sliver of Numinous Wood would increase the success rate by several tenths.

Legend said that Numinous Wood grew in the underworld—an inch in a hundred years, a foot in a thousand. A full ten thousand years were needed for it to reach a single zhang in height. A zhang-high piece glowed red like blood-marble; three zhang tall, it shimmered like amethyst crystal. The older the wood, the greater its spiritual nature.

Yet even in the legendary underworld, Numinous Wood was rare, let alone the blood-marble and amethyst grades.

This Numinous Wood Token was palm-sized and wholly translucent, like a slab of purple jade. Were it not for the faint growth rings visible on its surface, no one would have believed it was wood. It was surprisingly heavy in the hand. Xiao Chen stared at it intently—yes, the clear, crooked little paw prints on it were Keke's. In that moment, he felt the little beast's presence again.

In the underworld, a top-grade amethyst Numinous Wood Token was used primarily for sending messages. Inscribing text was a waste; its true purpose was to record spiritual imprints and transmit genuine mental fluctuations.

Xiao Chen focused his mind to "listen" to the mental waves within the amethyst wood. The fluctuations were violent, as if sound were being transmitted directly. But among them were cries for help—yet Keke's voice alone was absent. Chaos, arguments, threats, and far-off screams of agony and slaughter filled the noise…

The amethyst Numinous Wood transmitted a tangled, tumultuous world, bubbling like boiling water. Xiao Chen grew anxious—Keke's environment seemed extremely chaotic, and her situation was dangerous.

Strangely, why was there no sound of the little white beast? Wasn't this her cry for help?

Then doubt crept in. How had this token reached King Chujiang's hands?

Clearly, the scene before him had stunned the chubby youngster Niu Ren. Legendary King Chujiang of the Ten Kings of the Underworld sat on a bone throne suspended in the void of the ancient hall—so close to him. How could he not be shocked?

The tales of the ten kings of the underworld were deeply ingrained in people's hearts, known even to children. The chubby boy stared at the white-boned skeleton and felt a chill run down his spine.

Even though the old nether spirit had said that the Ancestral God Suiren failed in refining the underworld hell, he had indeed forged the Heaven-Earth Copper Furnace. Though the work fell short of completion, there were still some results. If the skeleton before them was not lying, then its origins were truly astounding!

"You… are really King Chujiang?" Niu Ren tried to stay calm.

"Heh heh…" The skeleton's bones were white as jade, and its mental fluctuations carried a cold, sinister air. An invisible gust of nether wind seemed to sweep through the decrepit ancient hall, and the oppressive chill caused the temperature inside to plummet.

Two beams of divine light, like shooting stars, swept through the dim hall from the skeleton's eye sockets, carrying an indescribable pressure. "Though the underworld never fully took shape, King Chujiang is not someone anyone dares to impersonate."

The legendary ten kings of the underworld were experts in managing lost souls, not known for combat prowess. Some even claimed their battle strength was quite low—but that depended on who they were compared to. For the two young men of a later age before them, they were certainly terrifying experts.

Niu Ren felt a cold shiver down his spine. He had truly run into an ancestral ghost! Involuntarily, he stepped back again.

The Black Dragon King remained motionless, its dragon eyes fixed coldly on King Chujiang, who sat on the bone throne suspended in the void.

Though Xiao Chen was startled, his mind was more occupied with doubt. He sensed a familiar aura from King Chujiang—a spiritual fluctuation that felt as though he had encountered it before.

Vaguely, he felt that the soul-waves of King Chujiang and his own self-proclaimed King Qin Guang, King Yan Luo, and King of Reincarnation were strikingly similar, as if from the same source. This was deeply puzzling, but now was not the time to probe. More pressing matters demanded answers.

"I believe you are the legendary King Chujiang. Xiao Chen greets the king." He bowed respectfully, then asked earnestly, "I beg the king to tell me—how did this Numinous Wood Token come into your hands?"

"Although the ideal underworld of the Ancestral God Suiren fell short, it did take shape. As the nominal king of this realm, I have guided a few wandering souls. I may not have many ghosts under my command, but I have a handful. This underworld is sealed off from several dark domains, but sending messages in and out is not impossible."

"Please speak plainly, Your Majesty."

The bone throne slowly revolved once around the ancient hall before stopping at the center. King Chujiang transmitted his thoughts: "Go to the Nine Nether Platform."

"Where is the Nine Nether Platform?"

"Leave Senluo Hall and keep going straight. With this black dragon's speed, you should reach a platform as tall as a mountain in about half a month. On the way, try to avoid the lost souls. Some vicious ghosts in the underworld are beyond anyone's control. If you encounter a nameless nether palace, evade it as far as you can—there are places I must avoid as well."

Xiao Chen bowed in thanks and started toward the hall door with the slightly dazed Niu Ren. At the threshold, he paused and asked, "Are all ten kings of the underworld present here?"

King Chujiang was clearly taken aback. He shook his head, and a mental fluctuation tinged with sorrow rippled outward. "I may be the only one left…"

Xiao Chen's heart stirred. "I once saw three skeletons on Dragon Island. Their aura is startlingly similar to yours."

"The other nine kings? Impossible! Even the Ancestral God Suiren's fate is unknown; let alone them. I saw with my own eyes their forms and spirits destroyed long ago." King Chujiang waved a hand weakly. Though he was nothing but a skeleton, Xiao Chen could clearly sense an unspeakable weariness, as if he was reminded of painful memories and did not want to dwell on them.

Xiao Chen and his companions withdrew.

Leaving the eerie hall, the Black Dragon King galloped like lightning. Only when they were hundreds of li away did Niu Ren finally let out a long breath. "Unbelievable. It's like another life. We actually entered the underworld and set foot in Senluo Hall. No one would ever believe this. Right now, I'm starting to wonder—when we fell into the Heaven-Earth Copper Furnace with that ancient altar, were we already dead?"

The chubby boy's expression was serious and heavy. For a moment, even Xiao Chen felt a flicker of doubt.

"Ghosts have no shadows," Xiao Chen said with a smile, pointing. Rays of light streamed from the Seven-Colored Sacred Tree as it appeared in his hands, casting clear silhouettes behind them.

"True. I'm overthinking it," Niu Ren said with a simple grin. "I haven't had my fill of life yet. How dull the world above would be without me!"

"Right—the sun depends on you to push it around every day, and the stars and moon need you to set them in place each night."

Just then, the Black Dragon King suddenly stopped. Going from extreme speed to a dead halt nearly flung Xiao Chen and Niu Ren off its back.

The underworld was dim, like a moonlit night draped in black gauze. Though the light was faint, one could still see. Far ahead, a vague, vast collection of buildings loomed, as if a multitude of halls were linked together.

The area seemed utterly dead and silent, yet a faint fluctuation emanated from it, pressing heavily on one's heart.

"That must be a fierce character," Niu Ren whispered. "Such an imposing hall—it's probably an ancestral ghost."

Xiao Chen agreed. King Chujiang had warned them to avoid any halls or caves they saw. They dared not take this lightly. The Black Dragon King swerved like a streak of black light, detouring a broad arc of dozens of li before passing the region.

"That was definitely a ghost ancestor. It's less than a thousand li from King Chujiang's Senluo Hall. Clearly, it paid no heed to the king."

Xiao Chen nodded. The underworld was far more complex than they had imagined. There was no order or rule—it was a chaotic and terrifying world.

For seven straight days, Xiao Chen and his companions dodged dozens of dark castles, palaces, and caves. They saw countless solitary ghosts and wild souls. Were it not for the sacred tree protecting them, they would have been torn apart by those spirits long ago.

Moreover, the yin energy of the underworld was extremely heavy. Though it was not as deadly as the dark spaces the old nether spirit had described, prolonged exposure could still harm living flesh. Without the Seven-Colored Sacred Tree's protection, they could not have continued.

Niu Ren was puzzled. "The earth veins we saw on the surface—where did they come from? They should have erupted from underground. But below is the netherworld. How could such spiritual energy exist here?"

Xiao Chen shook his head. "It's hard to say. This is not truly underground in the ordinary sense. It is a world unto itself, a boundless space."

Niu Ren thought about it and agreed. Even if the Black Dragon King only traveled half the time each day, it could cover ten thousand li in a day—speed like the wind. Yet after seven days of heading in one direction, that was seventy thousand li, and in the underworld, that could only be described as 'a certain distance.' This suggested it truly was not underground.

"The Ancestral God Suiren truly possessed boundless divine power, to refine such an endless space, a limitless underworld," the chubby boy marveled.

The Heaven-Earth Copper Furnace contained a real world!

On the tenth day, as Xiao Chen and his companions were traveling, they noticed faint points of light ahead. In the dimness of the underworld, this was jarring.

They were about to detour when both Xiao Chen and Niu Ren sensed that the area seemed devoid of yin energy. Instead, a faint holy aura drifted toward them.

Gazing into the distance, they saw a stretch of ruins. The weak glow came from there, like fireflies.

"Ruins—not a palace. It should be safe. Let's check it out," Niu Ren suggested.

Xiao Chen nodded. Even if there were spirits, they should not be vicious ghosts or evil souls.

With a flick of its tail, the Black Dragon King covered over twenty li in an instant.

"A temple!" Niu Ren was very surprised. "How can there be a temple in the underworld?"

There were only three dilapidated shrines, collapsed and decaying, apparently having fallen after years of neglect under the merciless erosion of time.

Tiny specks of holy light emanated from several broken Buddha statues. In the darkened netherworld, even a firefly's glow would seem alien, let alone the sacred radiance of Buddhist light.

Xiao Chen walked over and righted the fallen statues. "Don't you remember the legend? A supremely powerful Buddhist monk once took up residence in hell."

"You don't mean… Kṣitigarbha?"

"Him. He vowed never to become a Buddha until hell was empty—such a great vow to eternally guard the underworld. You must know, with his cultivation not much weaker than the Buddha's, he was one of Buddhism's foremost experts. If he weren't qualified for Buddhahood, then almost no Buddhist would be."

Niu Ren nodded. "I remember now. There really was such an ancestral figure. His combat power was terrifyingly high. In ancient times, he withstood three attacks from the Primordial Heavenly Lord and escaped unharmed. As one of Buddhism's top experts, he was meant to compensate for the ten kings' lack of battle strength."

Kṣitigarbha's great vow was known throughout the world. When he made it, heaven and earth shook—lotuses sprang from the earth, auspicious light rained down from above—truly the ultimate expression of great compassion.

"But if hell itself never fully materialized, can the legends be trusted?" Niu Ren questioned.

Xiao Chen nodded. "Not everything, but not nothing. Legends pass us some truth, more or less."

The chubby boy chuckled. "Let's search around. Maybe we'll find a few relics. These statues don't look ordinary—otherwise, how could they glow?"

He was ready to dig three feet deep, but how could they find relics? The statues glowed because a few incantations were carved on them, gathering a trace of residual Buddhist power.

But Xiao Chen felt a faint tremor in his left foot—Suiren's Fire-Drill seemed about to break free from his body. The Burial Shroud, which he had stored inside his body through the Art of Refining Weapons into the Flesh, also stirred.

The Fire-Drill was difficult to extract. Xiao Chen willed the Burial Shroud to appear. The moment it left his body, the black blood-stained cloth began to tremble violently, almost slipping from his control.

Dust flew, stones rolled, and the foundations of the ancient temple shattered under the blood cloth's force, sending gravel flying.

The Black Dragon King went on high alert. With a metallic clang, the Dragon Clan Sacred Sword was drawn from its spine in a blinding flash.

Xiao Chen and the chubby boy peered into the shattered foundation beneath the ruins—and saw a leg.