Ten days later, a gaunt man arrived outside Senyao City. He frowned as he saw the five Demon Kings still hanging. With a flourish of his hand, a dazzling blade-light flashed, and the five bodies crashed heavily to the ground.
The Turtle Demon King Dan immediately came to, crawling backward on all fours for several meters. Only when he was certain Ye Yu’s figure was nowhere nearby did he dare gasp for breath.
The gaunt man strode forward and looked at the red welts on Dan’s face. He said in a low voice, “What on earth happened?”
Dan shivered, stared at the man for a long moment, then burst into tears. “Old Tang—it’s you! It really is you!”
The man nodded heavily, eyes blazing with anger.
This demon was called Tang Fangzhan, of the Mantis Demon clan. Seventy thousand years ago he had been hailed as the most gifted—and youngest—Demon King in the demon realm. Yet at his peak, he disappeared without a trace, rumored to have lost his Dao heart for the sake of a lowly Earth Demon woman. Countless lamented that the future Demon Emperor, the Blade Sovereign, had been squandered for the sake of a Diji Realm female demon.
Perhaps time truly heals all wounds.
Seventy thousand years later, Tang Fangzhan had emerged once more. His first task was to find his old friend Dan for a reunion—but instead he learned of Dan’s hanging at Senyao City.
He was furious.
Dan shook his head and wept like an ancient elder wronged for his eighty-eight lifetimes. “Old Tang, ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) that ghost was so brutal—he spun me like a top for three days and nights! I nearly died from it! He didn’t intend to kill us, only to humiliate us. My brothers all died of fury. Had I not been knocked unconscious at last, I too would have broken!”
After speaking, Dan wept anew.
Tang Fangzhan patted his shoulder again and again in vain. Seeing his friend so broken, he vowed that at all costs he would slay that fiend.
Two days later, at the edge of the Border Sea at Ba’an, Ye Yu—now standing at the peak of the Ghost King Realm—frowned. Over the past days he had searched every ocean in the demon realm but never found the Sea God worshipped by the Divine Sea Assembly. Such a colossal being—where could he have gone? He certainly couldn’t be trapped in a secret realm here. That thought lasted only a moment before Ye Yu dismissed it. The Sea God’s power had long transcended the traditional Emperor Realm; no demon-world secret realm could contain him.
After much thought, Ye Yu decided not to linger in the demon realm any longer but to return to the Underworld. It had been too long—he wondered how his father Ye Tong was faring. Perhaps his reputation in Nian Gui City still lingered, and he could harvest more emotion points there. With that in mind, Ye Yu’s form flickered and he vanished.
“Evil ghosts, don’t run!”
A roar rang out and blade-light slashed, nearly cleaving the sky itself. But it missed by an instant—Tang Fangzhan’s figure appeared, stomping with rage. He had spent days hunting down Ye Yu’s trail to avenge his friend only to let him slip away. Infuriating!
Meanwhile, Ye Yu had arrived at the teleportation array leading to the Underworld. He paused and rubbed his ear. “What was that? Did someone call me?”
He shook his head. In this dreamlike realm, he had no friends in the Underworld—no one would call him. He must have misheard. Ye Yu continued into the passage.
After some hours, he emerged above Nian Gui City. “Fellow ghosts, have you missed me? Your king is here—prepare to feel pain!” Ye Yu stretched and pondered where to begin.
At that moment he noticed a huge stele in the city center, surrounded by all manner of Underworld flowers. It was beautiful—and puzzling. When he had left, it hadn’t been there. Who was it built for? Ye Yu landed and looked up: his name and portrait were etched on the stele. Below was a line of small characters:
“Saint of the Underworld, Savior of Ten Thousand Ghosts.”
“Wait—this title is too lofty. Is it a mistake? Or purposely reversed?”
Ye Yu read on and finally understood. It turned out listening to Buddhist sutras really could build up resistance. His earlier brag had come true—he had saved tens of thousands of ghosts!
“What is this? A lucky fluke?” Ye Yu’s face twisted.
Suddenly a rich baritone behind him said, “Yu’er, you’ve finally returned!”
Ye Yu turned to see his father Ye Tong, surrounded by countless ghosts. His eyes brimmed with tears and his hands trembled as though seeing his heroic son after many years.
“Is this an MVP award screen?” Ye Yu pressed one hand against Ye Tong’s exuberant face to forestall any embrace, then looked at the spirit clerk beside him and asked wryly, “Was this really necessary?”
The ever-composed clerk Qiandao bowed in salute. “Forgive me. After your deeds I finally understood how one can be guilty in one era and glorious for all time. You are a remarkable ghost. All I can do is spread your method to save more of our kind. Although I know you seek no fame, some things must be done.”
“We now have five major ghost cities adopting your approach, each erecting a stele in your honor. You are the true hero of the Underworld!”
At those words, Ye Yu was stunned. “This misunderstanding is too deep—how am I supposed to harvest negative emotion points now?”
At the same time, a young monk in robes entered the Underworld, each step sprouting lotus petals beneath his feet.
