It turned out that Ye Yu had indeed become famous! Many fanatic fans spontaneously began spreading word of him throughout the Underworld. His influence continued to grow without end! In time, the title Underworld Sage would surely become Ye Yu’s exclusive epithet.
Within Nian Ghost City, things were even more extraordinary. Almost every ghostly being had become Ye Yu’s diehard fan, and even the city lord, Qian Qian, was no exception! Every prank Ye Yu had ever played was now regarded by them as a form of rigorous training. There wasn’t a single trace of resentment or negative emotion left.
The ghosts had even begun listening to sutras at noon and closing all entertainment in the evenings to practice cultivation—such was the fervor that it bordered on the absurd. It was hard to imagine that this had become their daily routine. Witnessing this, Ye Yu felt as though all hope had died within him. He realized that, no matter how outrageous his demands, these ghosts would obey without hesitation. Under these circumstances, he couldn’t possibly generate even the smallest bit of negative emotion!
“This place really isn’t conducive to any progress. It’s time to leave!” he thought as he stepped out, preparing to depart. But just then he heard Ye Tong calling him.
Puzzled, Ye Yu crossed to the next room. Upon pushing the door open, he saw his old “Dad” seated upright on a high chair, with a Viewing Stone playing the sound of sutra chanting beside him. At that moment, Ye Tong wasn’t wearing his headphones—he was relying purely on his soul-body’s endurance. But sutras were kryptonite to ghosts of only the Golden Core Realm; they could hardly withstand them! Even after three months of listening, Ye Tong’s resistance had only barely improved. Every time the sutras played, his body trembled as though he’d been electrocuted.
“Yu’er,” Ye Tong stammered, soul-body shaking, “yesterday City Lord Qian came to see me again. He asked me to tell you to remain in Nian Ghost City as Honorary Grand Supervisor. From now on, whatever you say is law. He wants you to stay and help him build a perfect ghost city. What do you say?”
Ye Yu could hardly watch Ye Tong suffer. He reached over, crushed the Viewing Stone, and said firmly, “No more sutras—that’ll save us both the trouble. Tell Qian Qian I won’t stay in Nian City. I’m going to continue my travels.”
Ye Tong’s face lit up. “That’s the spirit! A fine ghost’s ambition lies in the wide world; staying cooped up in one city gets you nowhere. You are the Underworld Sage, my great hero. I hope one day you’ll change the entire Underworld!”
Ye Yu’s mouth twitched twice but he said nothing—truly, there was nothing left to say. It was unimaginable that a mere Golden Core ghost could harbor such lofty aspirations. Change the entire Underworld? Such fearless ignorance!
He then instructed Ye Tong to take care of his health and said he’d return in a while. With that, he prepared to leave again—but Ye Tong suddenly called after him.
“Come back!”
Ye Yu paused. “Is there something else?”
Ye Tong straightened his face and looked seriously at Ye Yu.
Tentatively, Ye Yu asked, “What should I call you?”
“My Old Dad,” Ye Tong replied with satisfaction. “If you hadn’t called me that today, I’d have felt all out of sorts.”
He reclined again, switched on the Viewing Stone to continue the sutras, and waved Ye Yu off—as much as to say, “It’s fine now; you can leave.”
Ye Yu held his face in both hands, utterly speechless. What a ridiculous situation—he’d turned his “old man” into a fanatic! With no other choice, he left Nian Ghost City and headed toward the passage to the Celestial Realm. If he couldn’t harvest negative emotions in the Underworld, he’d find them elsewhere.
Before he’d flown far, a sword’s gleam shot through the air! Ye Yu halted, watching the blade flash past right before him. Looking down, he saw a female ghost besieged by two immortals. The sword glow had come from one of them!
He bristled with displeasure. In the Underworld, attacking ghosts might have been acceptable—but nearly cutting him down without so much as an apology? Such rudeness from an immortal!
Frowning, Ye Yu dropped like a meteor, slamming into the ground. The shockwave forced the two male immortals to retreat. The female ghost, seeing Ye Yu arrive, flickered with hatred in her eyes—but Ye Yu paid no heed, turning instead to the two immortals.
“Who just sent that sword up?” he demanded coldly. “Have you no sense of propriety? Aren’t you afraid of harming others?”
The two male immortals responded in frosty tones, “Bold ghost, this has nothing to do with you. Leave now, or we’ll cleave you to bits!”
Ha! Talking back? Ye Yu laughed in anger. Facing two Immortal King–level cultivators, he calmly raised his right hand.
“Ready to feel some real pain?” he asked.
The two assumed he’d unleash some powerful ghost-immortal art and braced themselves—only to be struck with sudden, searing abdominal pain. Their strength drained as if ✧ NоvеIight ✧ (Original source) their core had been hollowed out. They doubled over, clutching their stomachs as they staggered backward.
“What... what did you do to us?” one gasped.
Ye Yu merely smiled, offering no explanation. The technique he’d used was a demonic-immortal art called Flying Waterfall Three Thousand Feet. Victims felt as though they’d swallowed three thousand jin of stimulant seeds, unleashing uncontrollable spasms. In battle, faced with excruciating pain, who would risk continuing the fight versus seeking relief?
Clearly, the two immortals chose the latter. They cursed Ye Yu as despicable and fled at full speed—but it was already too late. Flying Waterfall Three Thousand Feet had taken its toll.
