Chen Zhou carried the survival of the entire outer province on his back, bearing the lives of tens of millions of believers as he fought for time and a future against enemies of the ninth stage and beyond.
Yet he, an old ghost who had lived for an eon, had reacted with suspicion toward the boy's motives when asked for help.
"Healing one person makes a doctor; saving a nation makes a saint; blessing future generations makes a god."
"A god must naturally show compassion for the world."
These were the words the Great Emperor used to say.
A god is a god not because they are more powerful than mortals, capable of moving mountains, filling seas, or summoning wind and rain.
A god is a god because they are willing to look down at the all beings beneath their feet and lend a helping hand to countless ant-like lives when the eternal night falls.
Xuandu’s gaze fell upon Chen Zhou’s Eternal Calamity Karma-Fire Robe. The dark red calamity patterns flowed slowly across the black fabric like a brand woven from blood and fire.
In a daze, he realized why the Great Emperor's Palace had chosen Chen Zhou as the successor.
Xuandu had guarded the Great Emperor's Palace for hundreds of thousands of years, but the true inheritance had never been in the Five Direction Ghost Decrees, the talent light orbs, the godhead, the divine status, or the fragments of the Underworld rules.
The true inheritance was a compassion like that of the Great Emperor and the gods of old—a willingness to go through fire and water for all beings.
This young man already possessed it.
With a soul age of only one year, he was already a qualified deity.
Xuandu remained silent. His dark green robes were perfectly still in the windless hall, and a rare hint of awkwardness appeared on his usually expressionless face.
Having lived for an eon, his skin had long since grown thicker than the walls of the Great Emperor's Palace, yet at this moment, he felt completely uncomfortable, as if he were wearing an inner vest covered in barbs.
However, he was the type who was worst at apologizing. Forcing him to say "My words just now were inappropriate" would be more painful than having him strip away another ten thousand talent light orbs.
The atmosphere in the hall froze for a moment.
The Zhaoye Ghost Emperor sighed inwardly.
He and Xuandu had known each other for an eon; they were closer than blood brothers.
This man was truly stubborn and obsessed with his dignity. In a situation like this, someone needed to provide him with a way out.
Zhaoye cleared his throat and strode forward, slapping Xuandu on the shoulder with enough force to make his robes vibrate.
“Alright, alright, old ghost, your face is about to turn into stone,” Zhaoye said with a chuckle. “Can’t you just speak plainly? Why do you have to be so stiff?”
Xuandu shot him a cold look but did not brush the hand off his shoulder.
Zhaoye understood perfectly. He turned to Chen Zhou and smiled.
“Kid, don’t mind him. Xuandu is just stubborn, but he’s already accepted you in his heart. Those things he said earlier weren't directed at you, they were—uh, they were—”
Zhaoye paused, unable to think of a good excuse on the fly.
Xuandu suddenly spoke.
“My words just now... were a bit much.”
His voice was dry, as if he were reciting from a book, each word forced out with effort.
Xuandu did not look at Chen Zhou, but instead stared at a bronze lamp in the corner of the hall, as if it were engraved with some incredible and profound divine technique that demanded his undivided attention.
“I understand what you have said.”
“If there truly is a suitable person among your subordinates, I can make an exception and allow them to enter the Xuandu Ghost Mansion to undergo the trials.”
After saying this, he paused and added stiffly, “But my standards will not be lowered. They must pass all three trials to inherit it.”
“If their talent is insufficient, I will not be lenient, even if you plead for them personally.”
Hearing Xuandu’s dry tone, the corners of Chen Zhou’s mouth twitched slightly, but he quickly regained his composed expression.
He bowed deeply, his tone sincere. “Since Senior is willing to give us a chance, it is already a great kindness. I thank you.”
Then he straightened up and added with a smile, “Rest assured, Senior. I would naturally not bring someone of poor talent to offend your eyes.”
He spoke beautifully, both praising Xuandu and stating his own position—the person he brought would certainly not be some mediocre talent brought in just to fill a spot.
Xuandu snorted, his expression finally softening slightly.
Chen Zhou remained calm on the surface, but inwardly he was marveling.
So these seniors who have lived for countless tens of thousands of years are actually so naive.
Everything he had said just now was the truth, but to be honest, he hadn't expected a few true words to actually move a Ghost Emperor.
He had already prepared himself: if appealing to emotion didn't work, he would appeal to reason; if that failed, he would lure them with benefits.
As it turned out, before he could even reveal his later cards, Xuandu relented at the very first step of appealing to emotion.
Have these seniors slept in the Great Emperor's Palace for so long that they haven't been tempered by the ways of the world? Do they not understand negotiation techniques, or the concept of asking for the moon and settling for the earth?
Ku Chan’s teachings are truly useful.
Chen Zhou quickly struck while the iron was hot, turning to Zhaoye. “Senior Zhaoye, I have one more presumptuous request.”
Zhaoye was feeling smug about successfully resolving the awkwardness. Upon hearing this, he waved his hand grandly. “Speak! As long as this old brother can do it, I won't hesitate!”
“Can your Zhaoye Ghost Mansion also be inherited, Senior?”
The smile on Zhaoye’s face froze.
He stared at Chen Zhou with wide eyes, his mouth opening and closing. He looked at Xuandu, then looked back at Chen Zhou.
“Mine too? You kid, your appetite is quite large!”
Chen Zhou’s expression remained unchanged as he continued to watch him with a smile.
Zhaoye stared at him for several breaths before suddenly laughing.
“Fine, you kid, fine.”
He shook his head, his expression more one of amusement than anger.
“Take it, then.”
Chen Zhou was slightly stunned; he hadn't expected Zhaoye to agree so readily.
Seeing his expression, Zhaoye laughed even harder.
“What? You thought I’d be reluctant?”
He patted Xuandu’s shoulder, his blurry face appearing exceptionally vivid in the lamplight.
“We’ve been guarding the Great Emperor's Palace for hundreds of thousands of years, counting the days as we waited for a successor. Now that one has finally arrived, would we really put on airs and push him away?”
“I’m not as foolish as Xuandu.”
Xuandu said coldly from the side, “Zhaoye, who are you calling foolish?”
Zhaoye ignored him and continued to Chen Zhou, “However, my Zhaoye Ghost Mansion cannot be inherited by just anyone.”
“My core authority is merit and faith.”
“To wield this authority, one must naturally possess a commanding ability within their destiny—someone who can gather the hearts of the people, gain great prestige, and make all beings follow them willingly.”
“The most suitable destiny is the Heavenly Noble.”
“Would an Auspicious Noble not work?” Chen Zhou asked.
Zhaoye’s eyes suddenly bulged.
“What do you mean? Are you saying... you’ve seen a living Auspicious Noble?”
Chen Zhou nodded.
Zhaoye’s expression looked as if someone had stuffed an egg into his mouth.
He turned to look at Xuandu, and Xuandu was looking at him as well. Their gazes met in mid-air, both seeing the same word in each other's eyes—absurd.
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