Chapter 247

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Chapter 247: Title

The awakening of the Dragon Lord could not remain concealed. Naturally, neither the Special Bureau nor the spirit cultivators intended to conceal it. In truth, the Dragon Lord’s emergence after centuries of slumber brought collective relief to all parties.

Had the spirit cultivators not maintained their stability, many might have suspected something… unfortunate had occurred rather than mere prolonged rest.

Chu Jiang swiftly received word from the spirit cultivators’ faction, promptly relaying the official announcement as part of standard protocol.

The tier-nine demon lords City’s live broadcast had originally served to announce the arrival of several demon lords, with the Special Bureau simply arranging brief interviews as supplementary content—nothing more substantial.

But circumstances shifted. The Dragon Lord’s awakening and public reappearance rendered previous press materials obsolete.

At the heart of tier-nine demon lords City lay a central square dominated by Nuwa’s statue, its features perpetually obscured by an unseen barrier. Each dawn, azure-feathered birds arrived bearing dewy spiritual flowers, circling thrice before releasing their blossoms into the surrounding pool.

These submerged flowers gradually dissolved into wisps of Spiritual Energy, merging with the sacred waters of Qing Chi. Over centuries, the pool had absorbed traces of divine essence from Nuwa’s effigy, its spiritually enriched waters coveted by all. Yet none dared steal this treasure—human cultivators from fear, spirit cultivators from reverence for Empress Nuwa.

Now,

Near the statue rose a five-meter platform thronged by spirit cultivators, while human cultivators observed from below—a rare concession during spiritualkind’s grand ceremonies.

The sprawling tier-nine demon lords City spanned thousands of square kilometers into the Ten Thousand Great Mountains. Its nine-tiered assembly tower, last fully manifested during the city’s founding, now revealed its complete form once more.

Eighth Floor.

A golden dragon descended from the heavens, transforming mid-flight into a white-robed youth adorned with golden motifs—radiating divine grace and unparalleled beauty.

Ao Yuan.

"Long absent, yet not forgotten." His gaze swept across variously postured demon lords, lips curving faintly.

Though accompanied by Ao Lan and Ao Ming, all eyes fixated on the Dragon Lord.

"Four centuries of slumber ends at last?"

Bai Ze broke the silence first, his amiable nature forestalling awkwardness. The peacemaker’s query hung airily.

The nine-tailed fox fluttered lashes that had enthralled multitudes, her melodic voice laced with curiosity. "What urgency stirred your awakening?"

Xuanfeng’s obsidian eyes sharpened. "You’ve returned whole."

Ao Yuan inclined his head. "Indeed. I have returned."

The other demon lords weren’t particularly surprised, though not all had discerned Ao Yuan’s transformation. However, his conversational tone and familiar demeanor during their earlier interaction had sparked various speculations among them. Xuanfeng’s statement merely solidified their private conjectures.

Though Dragon Lord Ao Yuan had slumbered for centuries, his legendary status remained etched in historical records. During the initial phases of the Spiritual Energy Awakening era, when few spirit cultivators could traverse to Blue Star, he stood as the mightiest among them with unparalleled authority.

Had he not been the Dragon Lord – empowered to represent both spirit cultivators and fellow demon lords in critical decisions – the early diplomatic relations between human cultivators and spirit-kind might never have achieved such harmonious equilibrium. His contributions to interracial diplomacy were undeniably substantial.

The live stream continued its broadcast…

The tier-nine demon lords City transmission ran for approximately two hours without major revelations. The latter segment featured randomized Q&A sessions about cultivation techniques, exclusively addressing spirit cultivator inquiries.

While blood inheritance formed the cornerstone of spirit cultivators’ formidable power, guidance regarding cultivation methodologies and Dao comprehension still proved valuable for low-tier practitioners.

When the broadcast concluded, viewership numbers remained astonishingly high – an unsurprising phenomenon given spirit cultivators’ limited population compared to human nations. The real attraction lay in witnessing nine demon lords share a frame, their collective presence enhanced by ethereal beauty that compelled audiences to linger rather than disconnect.

To casual observers, the day might have seemed ordinary.

Yet this assessment proved inaccurate.

Even in this era of perpetual Spiritual Energy Awakening headlines, such momentous occurrences remained exceptional.

Tier-nine demon lords City · Special Bureau Branch

Chu Jiang’s office received an unexpected visitor no one had anticipated.

Upon receiving the internal alert about Dragon Lord Ao Yuan’s impending arrival, Chu Jiang crushed his cigarette and straightened his attire. While normally indifferent to appearances, formal occasions demanded propriety – he represented not just himself but all human cultivators. The consequences of diplomatic missteps loomed large: salary deductions, revoked leave privileges, or worse, high-risk assignments.

Knuckles rapped against office wood.

"Qiong Jin."

After ushering in the distinguished guest, Chu Jiang’s assistant discreetly withdrew and sealed the door.

Chu Jiang approached Ao Yuan with measured steps. Though thoroughly studied through countless dossiers, this marked their first physical encounter – few could claim proximity to such an eminent figure.

"What an extraordinary honor! We never imagined the Dragon Lord would grace our humble office so soon after awakening."

Their handshake bridged centuries of history as Chu Jiang guided his guest to the consultation sofa. "May I offer tea or water, Dragon Lord?"

"Unadorned water suffices," rumbled the deep timbre of Ao Yuan’s voice.

Without ceremony, Chu Jiang twisted open a mineral water bottle, its contents splashing into crystalline glassware. For a being of oceanic dominion like Ao Yuan – whose wealth dwarfed earthly measures – even the rarest spiritual items from Blue Star’s current era would pale in significance.

"Gratitude," Ao Yuan inclined his head regally.

Chu Jiang’s smile held professional detachment. "The honor is ours, Dragon Lord."

"Might we inquire what momentous affair warrants your personal attention?"

Though the Spiritual Energy Awakening era had avoided primitive power dynamics, universal reverence persisted for formidable cultivators and venerable predecessors. The weight of centuries hung between them as Chu Jiang awaited the dragon sovereign’s purpose.

Even among the other races.

At the dawn of the Spiritual Energy Awakening, the entire Blue Star descended into chaos. Had it not been for our predecessors intercepting those perils and shielding ordinary people from harm, the casualties would’ve been immeasurable—a number so heart-wrenching it would leave one breathless.

"This concerns a vital matter indeed."

Were it not crucial, Ao Yuan wouldn’t have abandoned his long-separated comrades to seek Chu Jiang immediately after concluding his broadcast.

"During my slumber, I witnessed a vision… an apocalyptic disaster." The Dragon Lord’s voice deepened with gravity. "As a fellow practitioner, Director Chu must understand that beings of my cultivation level don’t experience mundane dreams."

Chu Jiang’s brow furrowed—this truth he knew well.

Practitioners of elevated cultivation transcend trivial dreams; their visions manifest as celestial warnings. While personal visions might be dismissed, an apocalyptic prophecy… The Dragon Lord held no motive for deception.

Observing Chu Jiang’s solemnity, Ao Yuan allowed a weighted pause before continuing, "Have the human cultivators detected any omens?"

The dragon sovereign harbored no doubt—this vision pulsed with heavenly urgency. Such portents hadn’t surfaced since the primordial cataclysm, when celestial warnings rippled through multitudes.

This collective memory drove Ao Yuan to the Tier-Nine Demon Lords City’s Special Bureau branch. Better to confront Chu Jiang with flawed suspicions than ignore impending doom.

Chu Jiang’s head shook slowly. "No such intelligence has reached me."

"You’re certain this vision presages reality…?"

"Absolute certainty eludes me, yet verification proves simple."

"Enlighten me," Chu Jiang urged.

"When celestial calamity looms, heaven’s warnings resonate through countless souls—never solitary echoes."

Understanding dawned, urgency threading Chu Jiang’s measured tone. "True or not, this demands immediate escalation. Recount your vision in detail."

"Naturally—this constitutes my very purpose here," Ao Yuan acquiesced.

The subsequent hours unfolded with draconic revelations. Post-dragonlord’s departure, Chu Jiang dispatched the encrypted recording to Special Bureau Headquarters, unaware he’d ignited a cosmic fuse.

Capital City · Special Bureau Headquarters

Data streams carried the urgency lightyears ahead of mortal comprehension. Within moments, Chu Jiang’s classified file materialized before Liang An’s terminal.

"Apocalyptic disaster—authentic or not, we treat this as gospel," Liang An declared, fingers steepled beneath his chin.

"By the void, let this be false—we’re already juggling astral wildfires," Lin Jing groaned, massaging temples strained by alien transmissions from neighboring galaxies.

"Summon Tang Tong." Liang An’s gaze sharpened. "Chu Jiang sourced this from the Dragon Lord himself. Fabrication seems improbable."

"Verification first. Should this hold truth, we’ll need contingency matrices… and immediate notification protocols…"

Lin Jing nodded grimly. "I’ll handle it personally—Tang Tong’s sanctuary won’t know what breached its gates."

"Perhaps the wheel of chaos truly turns," he mused, staring at holographic crisis reports. "This convergence of anomalies… Not since the Awakening’s birth pangs have we witnessed such density."

Liang An remained silent, yet his clenched jaw echoed Lin Jing’s unspoken dread.

Apart from the first century following the Awakening of Spiritual Energy—when cascading challenges demanded constant attention—Blue Star had enjoyed nearly three centuries of tranquility without facing any truly formidable crises.

Comprehensive Section 5.

Tang Tong’s Office.

"Well? I must be hearing things." Tang Tong arched back in her chair, fingers interlaced over her abdomen as she regarded Lin Jing with amused eyes.

"When did you last grace my office? Three years? Five? Ten perhaps? The memory’s grown fuzzy."

Though their camaraderie thrived on mutual mockery, Lin Jing met her smirk with practiced ease. To meet without trading barbs would’ve felt unnatural.

"Delivering reports suddenly interests you? Should I feel honored?" His laughter echoed.

A delicate snort escaped her. "Honored? More like apprehensive. Your visits herald stormclouds."

"Out with it then—what fresh disaster requires my intervention?"

Lin Jing slid the dossier across her desk without preamble. No denials were needed—should this prove true, "disaster" would be a pale descriptor.

"See for yourself."

Straightening, Tang Tong flipped open the file. Her playful demeanor evaporated upon the first page. By the document’s end, her gaze pierced him. "This can’t be genuine. You wouldn’t fabricate evidence… would you?"

The accusation rang hollow—both knew better.

"Verification falls to you. Few possess this warning’s clarity… Liang An and I remain shackled to the Starlight Echo project."

Gravity hung between them. Tang Tong nodded sharply.

"Consider it done."

……

While online forums buzzed with Dragon Lord’s resurgence, Tang Tong pursued whispers of warning dreams. Her first thought: Xiao Tianji.

Tracking the elusive Kunlun Mirror wielder proved futile—the divine dragon offered no trails.

Yet certain individuals always knew.

Leng Xingwen’s fan fluttered like a mocking butterfly as Tang Tong entered. "Seeking our wandering star? You know he dances between worlds."

The Special Bureau’s most vexing enigma could traverse dimensions, yet never lingered.

"This isn’t social." Her curt tone betrayed urgency. Normally she’d spar with Leng Xingwen’s wit, but impending catastrophe left no room for banter.

Leng Xingwen’s smirk faded as she explained. Should this threat materialize, his involvement became inevitable regardless.

"Such tidings demand immediacy!" His fan snapped shut. "I’ll commence the search."

Xiao Tianji’s presence had always been serendipity—a chance encounter or missed shadow.

When Leng Xingwen produced his phone, Tang Tong’s eyebrow arched. "Don’t tell me you’re calling? If lines reached him, I’d not be here!"

The Special Bureau-issued number eternally rang into void. Leng Xingwen’s knowing chuckle held no mirth. "Patience, Director. Even mirrors need light to reflect."

Every time it ends with a shutdown. Having a phone makes no difference at all.

"That’s your experience." Leng Xingwen’s features softened, his smile as refreshing as a spring breeze.

"My call? He’ll pick up without fail. Wouldn’t want to tarnish his ‘Divine Calculator’ reputation, would he?" The cultivator dialed from his contacts, lifting the device to his ear under Tang Tong’s watchful gaze.

Three electronic tones pulsed before connection.

"Speak."

"Current location?"

"Moon Lake Wonderland? Not my request – Tang Tong seeks counsel."

"Understood." Hanging up, Leng Xingwen turned to her. "He’ll receive us. Already anticipates your questions."

Tang Tong exhaled in relief. Contact established. "My gratitude."

"Courtesy wastes breath."

The swordsman’s expression turned pensive. "Ordinary matters don’t warrant personal audiences. Brace yourself – we’re likely facing catastrophic tidings."

"Steeled my resolve days ago," she sighed.

Leng Xingwen summoned his blade, gesturing Tang Tong aboard behind him. His voice carried unexpected levity.

"Should heavens crumble, the lofty will bear the weight."

"Apocalyptic disaster included."

These ‘lofty ones’ meant high-level cultivators – guardians sworn to protect ordinary people. Neither human cultivators nor spirit cultivators tolerated threats to their shared sanctuary.

Blue Star stood as their inviolate hearth.

·

Seven days hence.

"Explain this."

Zhang Yuhai, head of the Special Bureau’s Spirit Liaison Division, eyed the delivered parchment. Interdimensional invitations remained rare – last arrived during the spirit cultivators’ solstice conclave.

"Origins?"

As he spoke, fingers broke the obsidian-hued seal. Vermilion characters shimmered ominously: ‘Yin Officials’ Gathering’.

Recognition dawned. Underworld correspondence explained the funereal aesthetic.

"Netherworld courtesies? Ah, their Ghost Festival…" The minister’s cheek twitched. "Do specters require revelry?"

Ghost Festival.

The name now carried literal truth.

This invitation transcended mere ceremony. Between gilded lines lay greater purpose – recalibrating the cosmic balance between yang and yin realms.

Accompanying scrolls clarified intentions. While digital networks couldn’t span death’s veil, physical missives traveled via Yin Chai couriers permanently stationed among mortals.

"Inevitable," Zhang Yuhai murmured, setting down the documents. Higher authorities must be notified.

For centuries, mortal and underworld domains had maintained a respectful distance – separate yet adjacent realms. This détente didn’t imply ignorance, merely… decorum.

As the governing agency of Huaxia, the Special Bureau possessed far greater knowledge of the underworld than ordinary people. Previous attempts to establish contact had proven futile, as the underworld deities strictly adhered to their duties unless expressly commanded otherwise.

The hierarchy of the underworld comprised Yama, judges, and ghost messengers, all answering to their superiors – with the supreme authority resting in the current ruler of the Yin Officials: the Ghostly Emperor.

Information about this deity remained scarce within the Special Bureau’s archives. Appearing only a countable few times throughout history, the Emperor’s rare manifestations in the mortal realm contributed to his enigmatic status.

The recent invitation revealed this Yin Officials’ gathering to be his direct mandate, intended to foster closer ties between the realms of the living and the dead.

The Ghost Festival would henceforth be formalized as an annual event. Each year on this night, qualified spirits would gain permission to visit their mortal relatives through dreams – a development benefiting both realms.

By extending this invitation, the underworld sought to utilize the Bureau as messengers, ensuring mortal preparations for the new arrangement.

In the inverted shadow-world beneath the mortal realm, where crimson moons bathe gray mists in eerie light, spectral cities mirror their earthly counterparts. Yet none rival the prominence of Fengdu Ghost City beneath Ghostly Mountain.

Though established four centuries ago with limitless expansion capacity, Fengdu’s administrators discovered wider territories complicated spirit management. This realization three hundred years past birthed numerous satellite ghost cities, each spatially aligned with mortal settlements.

These replica cities maintained proportional dimensions to their earthly twins, though their architectures remained modest compared to Fengdu’s soaring towers. Presently, the underworld’s population remains dwarfed by the living realm’s, leaving these ghostly metropolises hauntingly vacant.

Following the urban expansion, underworld authorities implemented a household registration system for spirit distribution. Three centuries of meticulous sorting eventually left Fengdu itself eerily depopulated.

…

In preparation for the grand gathering, every underworld functionary worked tirelessly to meet the Emperor’s expectations. Few living or dead could claim recent audience with the reclusive deity – even Yama and judges only reported century-spanning updates during scheduled audiences.

Beyond the gates of the dead, a peculiar press corps assembled. The Emperor’s temporary merger of mortal and underworld networks enabled spirit journalists – selected from recent notable deaths – to document this unprecedented event.

"Greetings, mortal viewers."

A poised reporter with black hair coiled in a wooden hairpin smiled at the camera, gesturing toward the endless queues behind her. "I’m Xiao Ziqing, your guide for this Yin Officials’ gathering." Her name tag gleamed as the camera zoomed.

"Can you guess our location?" The lens panned across interminable lines stretching beyond visibility. "This threshold welcomes all newly departed souls – their first stop before passing through the gates of the dead."

"True entry to the underworld begins beyond those arches," she explained, directing the camera’s focus. "These queues contain spirits awaiting processing, their mortal ties freshly severed."

The scene revealed astonishing organization: countless translucent figures queuing patiently under the underworld’s dim glow, their silent procession echoing through the misty landscape.

The spirits in line varied greatly, each retaining their mortal appearances.

Xiao Ziqing’s movements had captured the attention of several spirits.

【All ghosts here…】

【Am I first?】

【Front row seats!!! Underworld livestreaming – a once-in-a-lifetime event sniffles.】

【Wait – connection between realms? Can we talk to departed relatives??】

【Didn’t you read Special Bureau’s notice? Special arrangement by His Majesty the Nether Sovereign.】

【Xiao Ziqing rings a bell – heavens! THE legendary figure!】

【Is Xiao Ziqing important?】

【Even dead people queue? How eternally dreadful!】

【Grandmaaa! Saw my granny on screen! QwQ】

【Google her credentials if curious.】

【……】

Accustomed to comment floods from previous broadcasts, Xiao Ziqing advanced steadily toward the gates of the dead while engaging viewers.

"You’re all aware of the Yin Officials’ gathering. My mission today is to walk the postmortem journey with you before the event commences… Submit questions in chat – I’ll address selected inquiries."

【Researched her – Xiao Ziqing, 26, youngest Huaxia Journalism Award recipient since Awakening of Spiritual Energy 400yrs ago… Full credentials require separate browsing.】

【Journalism peers regard her as untouchable zenith.】

【Corpse-chores exist too? Office drones reconsidering mortality.】

【Timid query: Does underworld employment offer tenure?】

"Ghostly Life durations vary," Xiao Ziqing lectured, her voice carrying through the misty realm. "Labor isn’t compulsory, but underworld service…"

"…extends your spectral existence, grants afterlife privileges, and improves reincarnation prospects – hence popular among reluctant transmigrators."

"My current assignment stems from staffing shortages during the gathering. Qualified through examinations, naturally."

"Tenured positions?" Her laughter chimed like distant temple bells. "Those require listing in the Divine Roster."

"Though not strictly limited, underworld bureaucracy remains selective. In two spectral years here, barely any passed ghostly civil service exams these millennia."

Mortal-underworld time flows 1:3 – four centuries above ground equals twelve hundred below. The gathering temporarily synchronized both realms.

【Enlightenment achieved.】

【Netherworld exams > mortal ones.】

【Obviously! Godhood-adjacent roles demand rigor.】

【Afterlife ambitions ignited_(:з」∠)_】

The reporter-spirit fielded questions until confronting the colossal gates of the dead, where five specters entered simultaneously through spacious queues.

"Five spectral gates exist," she gestured at the obsidian archway, "each guarded by Ghost Emperors. Current single operational gate causes delays – new emperors would activate others."

“I heard that four hundred years ago, there were no guards at the gates of the dead, but after numerous attempts by cultivators to breach them over recent centuries, ghost messengers were stationed here.”

Flanking both sides of the gates stood two ghost messengers each.

One wielded a shovel while the other brandished a metallic wand resembling an airport scanner, sweeping it across the entering spirits.

【What are they inspecting? Contraband? /LOL】

【This feels oddly familiar…like passing through subway security?】

【Didn’t you notice? After the scan, their clothes transform into white robes and all personal possessions vanish.】

Xiao Ziqing remarked, “Crossing these gates signifies severing all ties to the mortal realm.”

“This procedure ensures every trace of worldly existence is stripped from the spirits.”

Beyond the gates stretched endless fields of blazing crimson blooms, nearly identical to mortal lycoris flowers yet undeniably the death blossoms thriving along the path of departed souls.

【Other shore flowers, nourished by ghostly energy and blood – the stronger these elements, the more radiant their bloom.】

“The Pavilion of Longing, Mirror of Sins, Yellow Springs Road, Bridge of Helplessness…” Xiao Ziqing narrated as they progressed.

Though underworld legends abound, few living souls had ever witnessed its true visage.

At the Bridge of Helplessness’s tea stall, a woman in soft yellow robes ladled steaming bowls of broth. Departing spirits gulped the golden liquid while staring transfixed at her, their expressions cycling through varied emotions.

Some erupted in delirious laughter while others seethed with bitterness, as though beholding their life’s most cherished or despised figure. Gradually, all passion drained from their eyes until only vacant stares remained, guiding their trance-like march across the bridge into oblivion.

【Stunning sister alert!!!】

【Soup at the Bridge? Wait – where’s Grandma Meng? Is this her??】

【Given her age, “grandma” might be understated – she’s probably ancient enough to be your ancestral matriarch.】

【The afterlife seems chill – no need for food, yet they look more vibrant than us stressed mortals.】

As they traveled, observers noted bustling spirits in varied attire – those awaiting reincarnation who, save for their pallid complexions, could pass for living humans.

Xiao Ziqing observed from a respectful distance near the tea stall.

“What you witness differs from their perception.”

“Meng Po manifests uniquely to each soul – some see their life’s greatest attachment, others a benevolent elder if unburdened by worldly ties.”

“Our camera, enhanced by the Emperor’s divine power, reveals her true form.”

The reporter spoke with authority, her two years post-mortem spent accumulating underworld knowledge – particularly about Meng Po – supplemented by exclusive access as the realm’s journalist.

“Meng Po’s ancient visage remains unknown except to primordial deities. The current incarnation emerged from Yellow Springs Grass by the bridge.”

“This rare plant endures millennia of Yellow Springs’ erosion. While the river’s waters consume wayward souls, its banks grow memory-purifying grass that enables rebirth.”

“Our final destination approaches – Fengdu Ghost City, where the grand convocation will be held.”

“Rumors suggest even the Emperor himself will grace this gathering.”

Meanwhile, in unchronicled paths, Xiao Ziqing’s journey bypassed the Yama Palace entirely.

Even though the Yin Officials’ gathering was being held today, the work of judgment could not cease. The Yama and judges meticulously reviewed each soul’s records.

Though the trials of spirits could not be paused, these were no ordinary beings—a simple doppelganger technique freed their true forms to attend the event.

As the current regents of the underworld beneath the Ghostly Emperor’s authority, both the Yama King and chief judges were obliged to attend this grand assembly.

Soaring above Fengdu’s sprawling streets, the Yama and judges arrowed toward the distant Ghostly Mountain.

They touched down at its base, ascending the mountain via stone steps that materialized beneath their feet.

At the summit stood an austere palace whose towering gates, perpetually sealed for centuries, now gaped open—a silent invitation to visitors… or perhaps an announcement of its master’s resurgence.

Before entering the main hall, the officials straightened their robes. Though their ceremonial garments had remained unchanged for millennia, still impeccably maintained, even the slightest disarray would be unthinkable before their sovereign.

"Your Majesty."

Their synchronized greeting echoed through the vaulted chamber as they bowed toward the throne’s occupant.

"Rise." The woman’s voice carried glacial clarity, colder than the eternal frosts between stars.

After a respectful pause, the Yama began his report. "The Special Bureau’s delegation has arrived. Wangchuan’s disturbances remain contained, with no public awareness…"

The Yellow Springs—known also as the River of Forgetfulness—had flowed undisturbed since their resurgence three centuries past. Recent ripples across its spectral waters had been swiftly quelled by the Emperor’s intervention, their ominous significance known only to select few.

This anomaly served as celestial warning: a cataclysm straddling realms, leaving neither mortal world nor underworld untouched.

Fengdu’s streets thrummed with spectral activity, architecture spanning dynasties blending into surreal cohesion. Crimson silks rippled above avenues where scarlet lanterns replaced their pallid counterparts, crafting illusions of celebration.

Xiao Ziqing’s livestream camera soared skyward, framing the central pavilion—a winged silhouette against ashen clouds. Below sprawled geometrically precise streets that would satisfy the most exacting minds, teeming with spirits savoring this rare convocation.

The lens descended to capture honored guests filling the auditorium, their numbers exceeding viewers’ expectations:

【Festive decor can’t hide the deathly vibes—total ghost wedding ambiance.】

【That bone-deep chill though.】

【Way more bustling than the last underworld expo!】

【Why does the pavilion look like Beijing’s Bird Nest Stadium??? (⊙o⊙)】

【Soul migration policies really thinned the crowds.】

【White-robed hottie alert! White Impermanence himself!】

【Since when do bull-headed guards look this dashing? *cries in single*】

【Black Impermanence photobombing the background like always. Bros before souls!】

【GHOST IN RED SIGHTING!!! *faints*】

【Who’s that skeevy Taoist cozying up to her? *flips table*】

【New obsession unlocked: mysterious robe guy!】

【Dragon Lord arriving with that fox-eyed demon lord—power couple vibes!】

【Y’all living under rocks? This squad’s been trending on Weibo!】

The camera lingered lovingly on each celebrity spirit, sending chat into frenzied speculation:

【Taoist boy serving Ghost in Red tea? Beauty x Beauty agenda rising!】

【STOP shipping! Red Queen needs no king!】

【Her crimson dress = anti-wedding gown. SINGLE AND READY TO SPARKLE!】

【Lowkey… that Taoist’s robe patterns match Xiao Tianji’s cultivation gear.】

【Weibo sleuths confirm 95% similarity in embroidery. Scandal???】

【Start the show already! Even Bull Head’s checking his hourglass.】

【Taoist/Xiao Tianji/Red love triangle? Underworld’s hottest mystery!】