A million years ago, the Tunshen Chanchu were already on the brink of extinction.
The main reason was that their reputation was utterly atrocious.
In the Netherworld, they were infamously dubbed shameless thieves—because their practice of devouring divine souls flagrantly violated the natural order. After all, no one wanted their painstakingly cultivated soul power to be quietly stolen away.
Once enough people had suffered at their hands, they began hunting the Tunshen Chanchu with ruthless fervor, driving them nearly to the point of wiping out the entire species. Fortunately, one final egg was preserved. To prevent it from meeting the same fate as its ancestors, the Tunshen Chanchu placed a spell upon the egg to delay its hatching, hoping to bury their legacy in the sands of time and ease the hostilities of the Netherworld’s ghost-immortals.
As a result, that egg remained unhatched for almost a million years. During that time, the Tunshen Chanchu within gained sentience and named himself Sijiu—a reminder never to forget his clan’s vengeance, nor the near-annihilation they had endured.
Thanks to the clan’s ancient inheritance, even inside the giant egg Sijiu was able to cultivate. Nearly a million years later, the day of his emergence finally arrived. By then, he had reached the pinnacle of the Ghost Lord Realm. It was his golden eyes that had once locked onto Ye Yu. Seeing the ghost-immortal before him, Sijiu instinctively believed Ye Yu meant him harm, so he struck him down on the spot and fled the lake for good.
Later, Sijiu realized that one egg shouldn’t be confined to ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) a single destiny. He performed a secret clan art to split his body and soul into two parts. The stronger half remained in the Netherworld’s base camp, quietly siphoning soul power from the ghost tribe to bolster itself—the most traditional and fastest path to strength. The weaker half descended to the human world before he reached Immortal Ascension, going into hiding there.
This dual existence gave him two lives: if one perished, the other could survive. Yet the weaker Sijiu didn’t truly covet the power of a peak Immortal Ascension cultivator. He craved the aura and ascending fortune of those about to break through—after all, when a cultivator ascends, even their domesticated animals benefit from their fortune. That was the greatest windfall of all.
Sijiu’s plan was simple: turn the human world into a breeding ground for stolen fortune. He would prevent every cultivator there from ascending, trapping them indefinitely until he had amassed enough fortune. Then he would return to the Netherworld, merge with his more powerful half, and use that accumulated fortune to step onto his destined path—to achieve the Ghost Emperor Realm. That was his ultimate goal.
Originally, everything was going according to plan. Through constant soul theft, Netherworld Sijiu had already reached half-step Emperor Realm, and all that remained was for Human-world Sijiu to gather enough fortune to join him in forging their path forward.
But fate had other ideas. You, Ye Yu, cut off Sijiu’s arm before either of them could complete their scheme—and in the process you made a half-step Emperor Realm cultivator your enemy.
Because of their linked hearts, Netherworld Sijiu immediately learned of Human-world Sijiu’s demise and, using the Mirror Flower Water Moon illusion, caught sight of your face. It would not be long before he himself ascended to the Celestial Realm to slay you, Ye Yu.
After reading all this, Ye Yu couldn’t help but laugh.
“Heh, that’s rich. You killed me in my dream for no reason, and I never got to settle that score. Now you’re gunning for me? Fine! Half-step Emperor Realm, huh? You really think you’re invincible? Just you wait—I’ll show you what death really looks like!”
Having swallowed two more Celestial Pills, Ye Yu bid farewell to the assembled ladies and headed toward the Netherworld. Ever since the Five Realms were connected by the Great Passage, travel had become remarkably effortless. In just one hour, Ye Yu arrived near Duannian City in the Netherworld.
From Human-world Sijiu’s memories, he knew Netherworld Sijiu had been hiding here, quietly siphoning soul power. And, learning from his predecessors, he only stole a little at a time, wary of being discovered by the ghost creatures—truly a master of survival. Though his thefts were small, they were frequent, and his cultivation advanced by leaps and bounds. Every day, he would traverse most of the Netherworld at top speed before returning to this lake, stomachs full and soul power replenished—perfect proof that a running toad can still climb the path of power.
Ye Yu, however, paid him no mind. Half-step Emperor Realm? Did he really think he was invincible? Today he would see who was superior, and how the word “death” was truly written!
Soon Ye Yu found the lake. Just as he prepared to descend, his expression grew grave. The battle had been cut short: Netherworld Sijiu lay nearby, a ghastly white corpse shrunk to less than one percent of his former size, the stench of death thick in the air.
Before Human-world Sijiu died, he’d been using secret arts to communicate with his other half—yet within mere hours he had perished. And the one who intercepted him was someone Ye Yu also knew: the Lord of the Three Corpses Hall, Motian Jun—a polished, inscrutable demonic immortal of the Celestial Realm.
Motian Jun soon sensed Ye Yu’s immortal energy and looked up.
“It’s been a long time, Immortal Ye!” he said with amiable warmth, as though they were old friends.
Ye Yu paused briefly, then stepped forward.
“What brings you to the Netherworld today, Lord Motian?”
“I came for this,” Motian Jun said, lifting the Tunshen Chanchu corpse before him. “This fellow devours divine souls and has even reached half-step Emperor Realm. All the soul power he collected is of great benefit to me, so I’ve come to claim this unexpected prize. By the way, Immortal Ye, what brought you here today?”
“Same as you,” Ye Yu replied with a faintly raised brow, “just didn’t expect you to beat me to it!”
He felt no real disappointment. The Tunshen Chanchu was dead after all—no need to shame its corpse. But Motian Jun’s intelligence was impressive; he had discovered Sijiu’s hiding place despite the toad’s careful concealment.
“Ah, it seems you and I truly walk the same path, Immortal Ye,” Motian Jun said, his smile growing even brighter.
