Chapter 193
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Chapter 193: Title
“Fair lady, won’t you try one?” The little girl batted her luminous eyes, an expression no ordinary soul could resist.
Yet this universal truth excluded Ye Linlang, who nonetheless humored the child by ordering—better to blend with the spectral crowd, as evidenced by surrounding ghosts.
“Bring two random dessert plates and a pot of tea.”
“Right away!” The girl scampered behind the counter, hopped onto a stool, and clattered the abacus beads. “Might I suggest our Yellow Springs Bone Tea with Other Shore Flower Cake and spicy beef slices… Forty-nine Ghostly Beads after discount.”
Ghostly Beads, currency forged from condensed ghostly energy, could be manifested by any spirit. Their size and purity depended entirely on the soul’s strength, with nine-level beads resembling tarnished pearls measuring a centimeter across.
Ye Linlang mimed retrieving items from her pocket while covertly condensing ghostly energy into beads, teleporting them through spatial folds into her garment.
“Will this suffice?” She produced two careless handfuls.
“That’s excessive! Let me tally—” The girl swiveled toward a shadowy bovine. “Rouse the head chef immediately! Don’t delay our patron.”
“At once, Ninth Miss.”
“Shopkeeper! How many times must I remind you?” She huffed, lower lip protruding.
Ye Linlang drummed fingers on the counter. “Keep the surplus as gratuity.”
The child’s unflinching grin betrayed familiarity with such largesse. “My thanks, noble lady! Ask what you will—this humble shopkeeper knows much.”
Ye Linlang’s thoughts drifted to recent underworld upheavals. While her system disclosed Yama’s grand maneuvers, the common dead’s murmurs remained unheard—hence this incognito stroll through ghostly alleys.
Resting clasped hands on the table, she smiled. “Having secluded myself, I perceive changes in our realm. Might the esteemed young proprietor enlighten me?”
“Gladly!” The girl puffed her chest in mock solemnity. “Father says paying patrons command divine privilege.”
“Begin then.”
“The talk of every spirit? Those spectral legions materializing beyond the city walls…”
A moon’s turn past, calamity struck.
From the Nine Nether’s depths beneath hell itself erupted a obsidian spire of light, fracturing that primordial prison. The Underworld’s structure held tiers: Ghost City for blameless souls, hell for penitents, and beneath all—the Nine Nether, festering relic of the old order’s collapse.
When the ancient Underworld shattered, its Six Realms of Rebirth spun untended. Seventy percent of infernal governance dissolved until the Ghostly Emperor’s ascendance reforged the realm from ruins. Yet even His cosmic might couldn’t erase all scars of that downfall.
The present Underworld grew upon its predecessor’s bones, preserving artifacts from the Ancient Era—the deathless Gates of the Dead, eternal other shore flowers along Yellow Springs Road, the ceaseless torrents of Yellow Springs itself. When the old order perished, countless souls escaped heaven’s guidance into the Six Realms, left to drift through the cosmic wound.
Some people harbor deep obsessions in their hearts. These obsessions preserve their forms even after death, when their bones have long decayed into dust and their spirits wander as ghosts.
Yet as centuries pass, these ghosts gradually forget all memories except the single obsession they cling to.
The Nine Nether imprisons countless such souls. While normally restrained by the Underworld’s authority and the Ghostly Seal, the world’s ascension now tests these ancient safeguards.
At this pivotal moment, an intruder has breached the Underworld’s depths to wreak havoc in the Nine Nether.
No spectral being dares approach that accursed realm under normal circumstances, for the Nine Nether repels all souls – those drawing too near risk being consumed and assimilated by its dark essence.
This inherent danger deters even Yama and the Underworld judges from attempting to tame the Nine Nether.
"Someone infiltrated the Nine Nether. Do you know their identity?" Ye Linlang inquired with keen interest.
"How would I know? I didn’t witness it myself," the little girl retorted, fiddling with her braid. "But rumor claims the intruder wore obsidian dragon robes, bore waist-length jet hair, and sported the nine-feathered crown reserved for emperors."
"Unless it’s deliberate pageantry, this suggests both exalted status and formidable power. To penetrate the Nine Nether unscathed and avoid assimilation…"
"Moreover, they released the imprisoned souls…"
"Continue."
Though urging the narration, Ye Linlang already guessed the culprit. While numerous methods exist to enter the Underworld unharmed, breaching the Nine Nether itself and liberating its captives?
This transcends mere fortune. The Ghostly Seal forged by the Ghostly Emperor alone restrains the Nine Nether, counterbalanced only by humanity’s sacred relic steeped in collective destiny—the Imperial Seal.
Both artifacts command spectral armies, though their domains differ: one governs the dead, the other symbolizes mortal sovereignty.
All know the Imperial Seal’s bearer since its dramatic reappearance when it chose its master—
The Timeless Emperor, Qin Shi Huang.
"They say the Nine Nether’s guardian relic vanished. Why else would ghost armies haunt Ghost City’s perimeter? Thankfully Lord Yama’s protection holds…"
Ye Linlang ceased listening, having pieced together the puzzle.
"Aren’t you frightened?"
The girl tugged her braid anxiously. "Terrified! But fear changes nothing. I just pray they recover that relic soon."
…
Atop Ghostly Mountain, Ye Linlang sat enthroned in the Ghostly Emperor’s guise. Given the Nine Nether’s deterioration, Yama and the judges would soon lose control—precisely as foreseen.
She’d anticipated this catastrophe when departing Blue Star for Planet Atlantis.
The Nine Nether’s prisoners included more than spectral soldiers—countless ministers who spurned reincarnation, eternally awaiting their sovereign’s return. Most, inconveniently, hailed from Qin.
Qin Shi Huang likely meant only to visit, protected by the Imperial Seal and his unique state between life and death. The Underworld would normally overlook such trespass.
Hence the shock when matters escalated.
She sighed. Revealing herself remained impossible after recently claiming seclusion for recovery. Unless the world faced annihilation, events must unfold without her intervention.
*
Yang Xingyu leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he studied the computer user. "Zhan Yuan? Shouldn’t you be underworld-bound?"
"Official business regarding the exchange tournament," Zhan Yuan asserted solemnly.
"Or shirking duties? With the Underworld in chaos…"
Zhan Yuan paled, memories of the Nine Nether incident resurfacing. "I’d rather not revisit that horror. Your turn—is the delegation finalized?"
"Mostly. Twenty representatives selected for competitive fairness, no quantity limits otherwise."
Yang Xingyu clenched his fist. "They call it cultural exchange, but might makes right."
"Who’s competing?"
"The luminaries—red-clad senior, Young Master Leng, Daoist Priest Li, Ao Ming Your Highness…"
Zhan Yuan’s eyes sparkled at "red-clad senior." "Master’s attending? I must cheer her!"
"She never acknowledged you."
"In my heart, I’m her disciple!" Zhan Yuan glared before musing, "Non-human participants too?"
"Western elves from England, Bear Country’s demons, Vatican angels reportedly… countless factions."
Yang Xingyu shrugged. "East-West pretense veils a strength contest."
"Hence the Battleground venue." Zhan Yuan nodded. "Fewer casualties there."
Hu Mei entered mid-conversation. "Chatting instead of working?"
"Exchange tournament plans."
"How dull." She yawned.
"You’re excluded—naturally boring." Yang Xingyu suddenly frowned. "Wait—weren’t you in the Mountain and Sea Realm?"
