Chapter 37

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Chapter 37: Title

Hardly had their words faded when

Hu Mei’s ears twitched atop her head. She darted behind Yang Xingyu like a silver blur, clinging to his shoulders with her tail quivering against his back.

Yang Xingyu’s initial bewilderment teetered between exasperation and amusement as he turned to Li Canghai. Gently stroking the trembling fox spirit’s fur, he remarked, "Daoist Priest Li, your instincts prove true. Look how this timid creature’s been startled!"

【Aaaaah! My heart can’t take this—】

【Why wasn’t I there? I’d sell my soul for one of Mei Mei’s hugs QAQ】

【Brother Yang! Prepare for a duel! My goddess deserves better!】

Chaotic messages flooded the live stream, ignored by the trio. While Yang Xingyu remained oblivious to the thickening atmosphere, every strand of fur on Hu Mei’s tail stood rigid with alarm.

Li Canghai’s gaze pierced the oppressive clouds. "This pervasive aura of ghostly energy… we’re surrounded by legions of spirits."

A sudden gale sent decorative lanterns clattering wildly against their posts. The world seemed fractured—Li Canghai’s eyes darted between the churning heavens and the deceptively calm streets.

"Can you perceive it?" he pressed Hu Mei.

The fox spirit’s spiritual eyes flared gold as she followed Li Canghai’s gesture. Her claws sank into Yang Xingyu’s shoulder, drawing a hissed breath from the man.

"What do you see?" Yang Xingyu demanded, though the world remained ordinary to his untrained sight.

"I’ll check myself—" He began channeling spiritual energy, only to be halted by Li Canghai’s raised hand.

"Conserve your strength," the Taoist Priest warned, studying the cloud-wrapped void. The spatial distortions mirrored those he’d witnessed when the Ancient Stone Tablet vanished from Mount Taihua—ripples hinting at realities colliding.

Within the thunderhead’s belly, reality frayed. Ghostly hordes tumbled through the rift, limbs scrabbling for purchase on nothingness.

"So many…" Hu Mei averted her gaze, fur bristling.

Yang Xingyu’s curiosity burned despite Li Canghai’s grim expression. "What are they?"

"Grotesque specters," the fox spirit lamented, her voice tinged with disgust. "Now I understand Xu Li’s perpetual grimace—never have I seen such misshapen abominations."

Darkness swallowed the streetlamps’ glow. Pandemonium erupted as ordinary people finally glimpsed the descending horrors—twisted forms raining down like malformed dumplings.

"We must act quickly—this chaos will cause casualties!" Yang Xingyu’s warning died as he spotted a lone little girl wailing amidst the stampede.

The fallen spectators circled hungrily, their gazes ravenous. Though momentarily restrained, their hesitation hung as thin as the veil between worlds.

If we talk about what to fear, all the ghosts fixed their gazes on the three people in the middle of the road.

While everyone else had found refuge in the corners, Yang Xingyu and his companions, standing in the center of the road, became incredibly conspicuous. Many passersby hid nearby, clearly recognizing them. Although Yang Xingyu could not understand the language, he could grasp bits of the Chinese words interspersed among it.

Seeing the restless ghosts across from him, Yang Xingyu immediately rushed forward and pulled the little girl to his side, while a delicate little fox hung behind him, swaying as it moved.

"Have we stumbled upon the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons?" Yang Xingyu set the girl down among the nearby onlookers and returned to Li Canghai.

"I fear it is more than just the Night Parade," Li Canghai replied with a grave expression.

The atmosphere was thick with the presence of the dead; some of the ghosts that emerged looked like lost souls, yet they seemed unaware of their surroundings.

"The scope of the ghostly energy is too vast; it likely extends beyond just our location."

A grotesque and ugly ghost fell from a tear in the sky, landing right in front of all the other spirits. Those nearby cowered in fear, lying flat against the ground.

In folklore, demons are classified into powerful demons and lesser ones; the creature before them was probably a powerful demon, sitting atop a lantern.

"This design looks a bit familiar, but truly, it’s incredibly unconventional," Yang Xingyu said, grimacing. He knew that when he got back he would definitely have to complain to the game company about how many times they revised this character model.

"Exorcists, step aside, or face death," the demon growled, speaking in a manner that was not human, yet everyone present understood it perfectly.

"You mistook us for exorcists? Tsk tsk, Daoist Priest Li, what do you think we should do?" Yang Xingyu chuckled and asked Li Canghai, "With so many people here, if we leave, won’t they all be doomed?"

"Any protection we can offer is worth it," Li Canghai replied calmly.

He sensed that similar situations were occurring in other places; it was likely that the entire Tokyo was in trouble. As he said, any protection they could offer was better than nothing; they couldn’t just abandon these innocent people.

That was not his "way."

"Mind your own business, tear them apart!" The demon bellowed fiercely at them, causing the ghosts behind it to eagerly prepare to leap forward.

The sight of those ferocious spirits made the people around them tremble. They couldn’t help but cast pleading looks toward Li Canghai and his companions.

"I dare anyone to try," Li Canghai stated coldly. He raised his hand, drew his sword, and with a swift motion, sent a blade of energy slicing through the ground, creating a deep trench.

His movements were clean and decisive, yet the air was filled with a sense of murderous intent.

Yang Xingyu was surprised to see Daoist Priest Li so angry, knowing that his temper was usually quite mild. These ghosts must have been exceptionally arrogant.

He quickly shared what he knew.

"This demon is very likely the one called the Qíngxíng Dēng from the legends of Fūsāng. It’s said to be a little ghost from hell, often lurking at the entrance of the realm of the dead, able to take the form of familiar faces and coax people into playing a game known as the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons."

"Light a hundred white candles, and the final story is told by the host. Once it concludes, all participants are pulled into the gates of the dead."

The strength of this ghost matched his own, and with so many more spirits behind it, if they couldn’t deal with this one, it was likely that everyone here besides them would perish.

"Should we fight, Daoist Priest Li?"

"Leave the Qíngxíng Dēng to me," Li Canghai replied, raising his sword and pointing directly at it, ready to capture the leader first.

"As for those little spirits, let me see if I can contain them with the fox," Yang Xingyu sighed, feeling unexpectedly helpless. In the end, it all came down to his own lack of strength.

…

At the foot of Ghostly Mountain, the figure of the King of Hell suddenly appeared, hurrying in a disorganized and frantic manner toward the mountain.

Outside the main hall, both the King of Hell and the judges bowed respectfully.

"King of Hell, I have important matters to discuss with the Emperor."

"Judge, I have important matters to discuss with the Emperor."

"Come in."

With those words resonating as if whispered beside their ears, the grand hall’s gates parted. The King of Hell and the judge dared not hesitate, striding directly into the chamber.

The hall remained unchanged from their last audience. The Emperor observed them with indolent grace.

"We pay homage to Your Majesty."

"State your purpose."

"Your Majesty, ghost messengers report that the gates of the dead have ruptured across the Island of Fūsāng beyond Zhongxia. Should we intervene? Our council suspects the fractured realm of the dead now bleeds into the mortal world there."

"Intervene? Unnecessary. The Island’s deities still linger – and even absent, it would not fall to Huaxia’s Yin Officials to meddle." The Emperor’s voice flowed like mountain springwater, clear and detached.

"Then… we take no action?" The King of Hell’s hesitation thickened the air before he pressed, "Your Majesty, countless Zhongxia citizens remain in Fūsāng. Without our protection…"

The judge mentally cursed his counterpart’s hastiness yet stepped forward to mediate – only to freeze as the Emperor’s next words fell like temple bells.

"Your concern holds merit. Dispatch Yin Chai to safeguard our people."

"By Your decree."

Bowing deeply, the underworld rulers withdrew to mobilize their forces. Time flowed differently for spirits; what might be days for mortals passed in moments as spectral envoys crossed into foreign lands.

Fūsāng.

"These damned spirits!" Yang Xingyu spat through gritted teeth, fists flashing against translucent foes. "Next time, I’m bringing proper steel!"

"Daoist Priest Li! The red-clad senior’s technique – make room!"

Nearby, Li Canghai’s blade wove intricate patterns. Though new to sword cultivation, his preternatural comprehension bridged years of training. Against the Qíngxíng Dēng’s shifting phantoms, his strikes grew sharper with each exchange.

Crimson flames erupted from Yang Xingyu’s palms, hungrily devouring ghostly energy. Spirits shrieked as the inferno consumed weaker entities whole, their forms crumbling to ash before their wails faded.

Hu Mei’s fox ears twitched. Without ceremony, she pressed her palms to Yang Xingyu’s back, her remaining spiritual energy flowing into him like silver streams. "Burn them all," she whispered, fangs glinting.

The judge materialized where Yin energy curdled thickest, his true visage unveiled. The Book of Life and Death fluttered agitatedly in his grip as he surveyed the bleeding sky – jagged rifts exposing the mortal realm to the underworld’s rot.

"Split formations!" His command cracked like thunder. "Protect Zhongxia’s children first. Those soul-devouring abominations – grant them oblivion."

Twenty Yin Chai scattered like leaves in a typhoon. The judge’s finger paused on a glowing entry in the ancient tome, brow furrowing.

"An extraordinary individual… here?"

After their brief encounter last time, the Judge had grown curious about extraordinary individuals and began observing them discreetly. Spotting familiar names highlighted in red, he felt faint surprise.

The crimson-marked names in the Book of Life and Death represented Zhongxia citizens currently in Fusang, while the ashen ones denoted recent casualties. Raising his eyes toward a distant point, the Judge vanished instantly, reappearing through successive blinks until he materialized near Li Canghai’s location.

From his elevated perch, he observed the demon-slaying duo below. "Impressive strength for this era," he murmured approvingly.

Li Canghai’s blade severed Qingxing Deng’s head in a sweeping arc. Blue spiritual energy flickered around the demon’s neck wound, consuming its headless form in cerulean flames until only ashes remained. Without hesitation, the Daoist priest altered his sword stance, unleashing another wave of strikes that drained his remaining spiritual energy but decimated the demon horde. Surviving weaklings scattered like startled insects upon witnessing their powerful leader’s demise.

Though sensing unseen observation, Li Canghai found nothing when glancing upward. His sword wavered slightly from exhaustion as he checked its edge, relieved it hadn’t shared its predecessors’ fate.

"Daoist Priest Li! That was incredible! A single strike annihilated them all!" Yang Xingyu extinguished his flames, his replenished spiritual energy even enhancing his cultivation. He approached marveling, then steadied the swaying swordsman.

"Casualties?" Li Canghai rasped, leaning on his blade.

"All safe through my efforts," Yang Xingyu countered, supporting him. "Worry about yourself first."

"Merely drained spiritual energy. Manageable."

Hu Mei leapt from Yang Xingyu’s shoulder, surveying the cleared battlefield. "Assist her," Li Canghai urged. "Communication requires your presence."

After ensuring his companion’s condition, Yang Xingyu departed, noting shell-shocked bystanders who’d doubtlessly require psychological counseling.

Ghostly Mountain.

Ye Linlang maintained her Underworld Empress guise before a colossal projection revealing Tokyo’s demonic onslaught. Yin Chai moved visibly through the Space Overlap between realms.

Neither Amaterasu nor the Ghostly Emperor could manifest physically – projections preserved their tier’s dignity while preventing identity exposure. Ye Linlang’s dual control proved challenging yet manageable through practiced mental division.

Amaterasu’s absence from Fusang’s divine festival stemmed from strategic hauteur. Major deities shouldn’t grace mere human Daoist rituals, though the decision risked increased casualties. Her gaze swept over shamans and priestesses brandishing useless demon-dispelling bows – ceremonial props without proper rituals.

Still, the Fusang deity granted subtle blessings despite her invisible presence.

…

Tourist streamer Luo Qing abandoned her divine festival coverage upon noticing ominous clouds, hastening toward her hotel when…

The sky plunged into darkness as though Luo Qing had been abruptly sucked into another dimension.

What the hell is going on? Her face drained of color, a visceral dread tightening her chest.

Demons cascaded from the heavens while shrieking civilians swarmed like panicked ants. This wasn’t just chaos—it was a full-blown supernatural event. Though Zhongxia authorities urged reporting such incidents, what good would their police do in Fūsāng? She sprinted with the crowd, determined not to become shredded meat like those left behind.

A lesson echoed in her mind: When fleeing tigers, you don’t need speed—just someone slower than you.

Fūsāng’s lethal reputation wasn’t exaggerated. If I survive, I’m never setting foot here again. Teeth clenched, she charged forward, mentally retracting every snide remark she’d ever made about the Spiritual Network’s travel advisories.

Someone shoved her from behind. She crashed sideways, ankle erupting in white-hot agony when she tried rising. Perfect timing for a sprain.

The tumor-crowned demon scuttled closer, talons glinting. No Zhongxia brother to help, no Good Samaritan among Fūsāng’s self-preserving crowds—just this grinning abomination savoring her hobbled retreat.

It’s toying with me. Her nails dug into asphalt. These things think they’re cats hunting mice.

She forced herself upright, pain dwarfed by survival instinct. The demon’s grin widened, shredded flesh wedged between fangs. Bile rose in her throat.

“Screw this! I’ll haunt you from the afterlife!” No meek White Rabbit here—when cornered, Luo Qing became wildfire. “Come chew on this, you motherf—” Zhongxia’s finest curses tore through the air. If death came, she’d greet it with middle fingers raised.

Her abandoned phone captured it all. The live stream’s comments froze, then exploded:

【Queen behavior! Rocket gift incoming!】

【POLICE NOTIFIED BUT HURRY】

【DO DEMONS KNOW MANDARIN??】

As the creature lunged, her heart stalled. Then—cold metal links snared the demon mid-pounce, its drooling maw frozen centimeters from her face.

“My hero!” She collapsed, adrenaline morphing into reckless charm. “Marry me, oh extraordinary savior!”

【SHE’S ALIVE AND FLIRTING??? LEGEND】

【SIS SURVIVED TO ROAST ANOTHER DAY】

【Come, come, I’ve brought the chicken cage.】

【Who saved the big sister? Move the camera already!】

【I heard Daoist Priest Li and his group are in Fūsāng. Could it be them?】

【No, just came from the fox spirit’s live stream—they’re still battling monsters.】

Luo Qing caught sight of the chain-wielding figure behind the demon and froze. This wasn’t any extraordinary individual she recognized.

Clad in black with deathly pale skin, his long hair swept into a crown-like bun, he possessed thin lips and angular brows that tapered like ink strokes.

"You’ll think I’m mad, but I’m pretty sure an ancient person just rescued me. And he’s… oddly handsome." Luo Qing remained seated, forcing a laugh to mask her earlier outburst.

"Er, hello?" she ventured.

When had he appeared? How much had he overheard? Heat crept up her neck as she recalled her colorful vocabulary moments prior.

The black-clothed Yin Chai yanked his chain. With a metallic shriek, the entire demon constricted into swirling mist before dissipating.

"Come." His Zhongxia Mandarin resonated with crisp authority.

Bound by the Judge’s decree to protect Hua Xia’s people, he couldn’t abandon her here—though the complication clearly vexed him.

"Right! My phone!" Luo Qing hunched painfully, fingertips brushing the device as her ankle throbbed curses into her veins.

The shattered camera left only the phone’s front lens functional. When she finally grasped it, the Yin Chai stood motionless as a stele.

…Do I repulse him? Some chivalry!

"Stream’s over. Hospital time." She killed the broadcast with a jab, pride outweighing pain.

"Could you… help me up?" The request tasted foreign—she who crushed water bottles barehanded, now playing damsel?

"Improper contact between genders."

"Then fetch me a crutch!" Her eye twitched. What relic-era prude was this?

Without a word, the Yin Chai snapped a metal rod from a collapsed stall and presented it like ceremonial steel.

How poetic, she mused, accepting the implement. An Arctic gust accompanied his proximity, raising gooseflesh beneath her sleeves.

"So… where’s home? Know Miss Ghost in Red? She rocks vintage looks too—" Luo Qing volleyed questions, desperate to outshout her screaming foot.

Zhongxia tourists flocking to Fūsāng’s divine festival meant swarms of Yin Chai dispatching pesky demons. This one drew the short straw—his first rescue now hobbled alongside him, metal rod clanking rhythmically.

They soon passed another victim—until the Yin Chai’s chain lashed out, atomizing their pursuer. The survivor trailed behind, unchallenged.

"Why not bring them?" Luo Qing jerked her chin at their shadow.

"Judge’s orders: Hua Xia citizens first."

"Judge? You’re not… human?" Her gaze swept his form. "Yet not ghostly either."

"The underworld’s Yin Chai," he answered wearily, each syllable dripping with centuries-old exhaustion.

"Did the underworld send you all this way to save us? Does this mean we’re about to die?" A flicker of warmth stirred in Luo Qing’s chest. The words from the black-clothed Yin Chai moved her more than she cared to admit, especially after her recent brush with danger.

The Yin Chai suddenly halted, his senses alert.

"No spirits linger here. Remain while I attend to other duties."

With a curt "Farewell," he turned.

"Wait!" Luo Qing’s call echoed pointlessly through the darkness. Even with both legs intact, she could never hope to catch someone who vanished in three bounding leaps. Her teeth ground together as she fumbled for her phone. "Not even leaving a name? Typical Yin Chai arrogance," she muttered, dialing the ambulance number with trembling fingers.

The eternal night stretched onward as she waited.

…

Dinner turned to ashes in the Prime Minister of Fūsāng’s mouth when the report came – not localized incidents, but all of Tokyo besieged. His fingers clutched at the armrest, heart thundering against his ribs.

This accursed Awakening of Spiritual Energy had rewritten the rules of reality. With trembling orders, he dispatched every shaman and priestess, summoned Abe Masanari and foreign extraordinary individuals, then stared in mounting horror at the satellite feed.

The divine festival’s crowds now became his nightmare. Foreign visitors mingled with citizens in those cursed streets – the death toll would shake nations.

"Magnify sector seven!" he barked.

Above Tokyo’s ravaged skyline, the portal yawned open. From her celestial throne in Takamagahara, Amaterasu lifted a languid hand. The smothering black mist coalesced into her palm, revealing the city’s wounds to orbiting eyes worldwide.

"Amaterasu! The goddess answers us!" The Prime Minister’s jubilant cry held newfound understanding. However uneasy he’d been about deities meddling in governance, tonight proved their necessity. Without divine intervention, they’d be counting corpses until dawn.

The cleared atmosphere exposed new players. Satellites captured the eastern-featured Yin Chai with their flowing black hair, one frame perfectly framing a judge engrossed in the Book of Life and Death.

"Why do Hua Xia’s underworld servants trespass in Fūsāng?" Amaterasu’s voice frosted the air, her gaze pinning the judge.

The official from Zhongxia – ancient Hua Xia – froze mid-page. Carefully closing the tome, he arranged his robes and offered a precise bow. "We come by Ghostly Emperor’s decree to safeguard Hua Xia’s children."

"By slaughtering our spirits?" The goddess’s eyelashes dipped in disdain. "Is this Hua Xia’s notion of protocol?"

"You have overstepped your bounds." A golden radiance descended from Amaterasu’s fingertips, striking with lethal precision toward those below.

_This is bad_, the Judge inwardly cursed, barely managing to shield himself and the Yin Chai under his command with the Book of Life and Death.

Simultaneously, the spectral silhouette of Ghostly Mountain materialized behind him. Upon an obsidian throne sat a striking woman draped in dark robes, her frosty gaze lifting to meet Amaterasu’s across the void – the solar deity resplendent in twelve-layered crimson and white robes.

"Those under my dominion require no lessons from you."

The self-proclaimed Ghostly Emperor flexed her fingers. With a flick, a pulse of abyssal energy shattered the golden assault into dissolving motes of light.

_An Emperor… who’s female?_

Watching from Zhongxia, Lin Jing suddenly recalled Li Canghai’s accounts of an enigmatic "Empress" revered by underworld emissaries. Could this Ghostly Emperor be that very sovereign?

"Your Majesty." The Judge dipped into a deep bow, astonishment flickering across his features. His earlier greeting to Amaterasu had been a mere clasped-hand salute, but now his posture radiated genuine reverence bordering on devotion.

Satellite feeds broadcasted this stark contrast globally. Though foreign leaders comprehended neither language, the Judge’s shifting allegiance needed no translation.

Ye Linlang’s dual consciousness observed coldly. The Judge’s demeanor reminded her of a wronged child seeking parental vindication – an absurd notion she promptly dismissed.

"Hmm."

"You." Amaterasu’s lip curled. "I’d wondered what upstart claimed the imperial mantle. To think vermin would crown their own." Even the observing Prime Minister recognized the venom between deities, let alone seasoned diplomats.

The revelation sent ripples through geopolitical circles. Centuries of Fūsāng’s alternating sycophancy and betrayal toward Zhongxia played through every mind – the wartime atrocities never forgotten despite recent détente. That their gods mirrored this ancient enmity…

"Temper your tongue." The Empress’s bored inflection contrasted with the dark phoenix embroideries swirling across her robe hem. "You will address me properly, Amaterasu. The title is ‘Emperor.’" Her nine-feathered crown shimmered as she tilted her head.

"You violate our accords by invading Fūsāng with your specters." Amaterasu’s composure cracked, revealing glacial fury.

"When your crumbling underworld bleeds into the living realm, shall I abandon my people?" The Empress spread her hands mockingly. "Your negligence compelled my intervention. Where’s the transgression?"

Mortals and spirits alike froze beneath the deities’ clashing pressure.

"The convergence will be rectified." Amaterasu’s mirror-flat tone belied her tardiness – Zhongxia’s Yin Officials had already staked their claim.

"Then by your logic…" The Empress’s smile turned predatory. "…I may freely tour Zhongxia whenever caprice strikes?"

"Beneath the sun-scorched vales lies ancient Fūsāng, where ten suns once bathed – all within Zhongxia’s primordial domain." She interlaced jeweled fingers at her waist. "I walk ancestral soil. What law breaks?"

Muffled exclamations erupted among world leaders.

"Shall we duel then?" The eight-direction mirror blazed in Amaterasu’s grip.

"By all means." The Empress’s mock-concerned pout didn’t reach her eyes. "If you fancy sacrificing what remains of your crumbling pantheon…"

"Your fractured underworld spawns lost souls that fester into monsters. Tell me, Sun Goddess-" Her laughter rang like temple bells. "-who besides my Yin Officials would lend you hell’s vaults?"

The mirror dimmed. Amaterasu’s knuckles whitened.

Watching her adversary’s forced retreat, the Empress savored the sweet vindication curling through her spirit.

"Judge."