After Wu Gou finished speaking, Chen Zhou turned to look at Nie Chaoxi, who was standing not far away.
Chen Zhou beckoned her over.
Nie Chaoxi was slightly startled but quickly walked over and stood before Chen Zhou, bowing slightly. “Your Eminence.”
“I am already aware of this matter. You should also go and try your luck at the moat,” Chen Zhou said in a flat tone.
“The things deposited in the Wanchuan Pond are not all cultivation techniques or weapons; there are also some unique existences. Your spirit beast body is naturally pure, so perhaps you can fish up an opportunity that suits you.”
Nie Chaoxi bowed again. “Thank you, Your Eminence.”
She turned and walked toward the moat, but after a few steps, she stopped and looked back at Chen Zhou, looking as if she wanted to say something more.
Chen Zhou asked, “Is there something else?”
Nie Chaoxi weighed her words carefully. “The memories of the Golden Buddha I saw in my sleep—though I have told you everything, there is one detail I still cannot quite understand.”
“Speak.”
“Bai Xing used the Karma-Severing Heavenly Punishment authority to create the Golden Buddha.”
“The core of this authority is slaughter and conflict, but the addictive, pure aura emitted by the Golden Buddha does not seem to be entirely a product of the path of slaughter.”
Nie Chaoxi’s brow furrowed slightly, as if she were trying hard to recall those fragmented images.
“That scent seemed to be mixed with something else.”
“It was like a trace left by something even more ancient and primordial. Bai Xing only borrowed that power; he did not create it himself.”
After hearing this, Chen Zhou did not rush to comment.
He remained silent for a moment before slowly saying, “Understood. When the time is right, I will look into it further.”
Nie Chaoxi nodded and said no more, turning to leave.
Chen Zhou watched her back disappear at the end of the street, then looked up at the sky and closed his eyes.
His divine sense sank into his body, touching the dark gold light bound to his soul.
That was the mark left when the Black Sludge Pond established a connection with him, and it served as his token to freely enter and exit the Great Emperor’s Palace.
Chen Zhou activated the mark. The dark gold light spread from his chest, flowing through his meridians to his entire body before finally spilling from his fingertips and condensing in the void before him.
The light grew denser, shifting from a faint gold to dark gold, and then to a near-solid state.
A crack appeared in the void, as if an invisible giant hand were tearing the world open from the inside.
Dark gold light poured from the crack, bathing the entire area in front of the Bone Altar in an ancient glow.
Deep within the crack, the silhouette of a palace so massive it defied description was faintly visible.
The palace floated in a boundless void, standing there without any support.
The light of the world could not penetrate that crack. Inside was a deep dark gold, like the sky at twilight or the color of ancient metal polished by the ages.
Wu Gou leaned in, his bald head poking toward Chen Zhou as he squinted to peer inside.
“Is this the place you’re taking me?” He smacked his lips. “It looks quite grand, though the color is a bit old-fashioned.”
Chen Zhou glanced at him. “Do not speak out of turn once we are inside.”
“When do I ever speak out of turn?” Wu Gou looked innocent.
Chen Zhou ignored him and waved his hand.
The dark gold crack expanded further, growing from the size of a door into a true portal wide enough for two people to pass through side by side.
Chen Zhou took the lead and stepped into the crack, with Wu Gou following close behind.
The moment they stepped into the crack, the light around them changed abruptly.
The nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps stretched out from beneath their feet toward the horizon, their end hidden in the dark gold clouds.
On either side of the steps stood hundred-zhang-tall stone statues, armored and armed, with green faces, fangs, and three heads and six arms, holding steel forks and treading upon evil ghosts.
Wu Gou felt something appraising him from top to bottom, inside and out, as if it wanted to flip through every inch of his past.
“Do not resist,” Chen Zhou said. “Let it look.”
Wu Gou relaxed his body as instructed, allowing the power to scrutinize him.
A few breaths later, the pressure vanished.
Wu Gou breathed a sigh of relief, realizing his back was already soaked with sweat. He reined in his playful expression, pressed his palms together, and softly chanted a Buddhist invocation.
Chen Zhou did not delay and stepped onto the stairs.
He wasn't here to clear a trial this time. The last time he climbed these nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps, it had taken him nearly an hour. That was his first ascent, so he had been forced to walk.
But now that the Black Sludge Pond was bound to his soul, he served as the Great Emperor’s Palace’s recognized temporary vessel, so he naturally did not need to climb them step by step again.
Chen Zhou activated the dark gold mark in his soul, and the steps beneath him suddenly lit up.
Dark gold light emerged from the surface of the steps, transforming into a band of light that lifted him and Wu Gou, carrying them upward.
The band of light moved incredibly fast. The stone statues on either side receded rapidly, turning into blurred afterimages.
In just a few breaths, the two of them had crossed the nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine steps and landed before the palace doors.
The doors to the great hall stood open, and the interior remained as grand and overwhelming as ever.
The dome was so high its end was invisible, obscured by dark gold clouds where countless points of light drifted. In the very center of the hall, the hundred-zhang-tall black stele still stood.
Chen Zhou did not stop, walking straight through the hall toward the Five Direction Ghost Emperor Mansions.
His goal was clear—the Xuandu Ghost Mansion.
However, just as he stepped out of the hall’s back door and onto the corridor leading to the Five Direction Ghost Emperor Mansions, he stopped in his tracks.
A person was standing at the end of the corridor.
The man wore dark red battle-armor covered in the marks of blades and axes. He was exceptionally tall, standing over twenty feet—at least two heads taller than Chen Zhou. His shoulders were as broad as a wall, and his presence alone created a suffocating sense of pressure.
He had a sharp, chiseled face, with sword-like eyebrows and a high bridge to his nose. His lips were pressed tight, and his entire being felt like an unsheathed long blade, so sharp one dared not look at him directly.
Chen Zhou noticed he was holding a copper mirror.
The mirror was only the size of a palm, ancient and simple, with intricate patterns carved around the edges.
This giant, who looked as if he were built for slaughter, was holding the mirror and checking his face from every angle. His other hand adjusted the stray hairs on his forehead, seemingly unsatisfied with his hairstyle today. He frowned as he brushed a lock of hair from the left to the right, looked at it, and then brushed it back.
Chen Zhou’s footsteps faltered.
The giant seemed to hear the sound and suddenly turned his head, stuffing the copper mirror into his robes. His tiger-like eyes bulged as he stared straight at Chen Zhou.
Then, he grinned.
“So, you are the Young Palace Master chosen by the palace?”
His voice was as loud as thunder, causing stone dust to shake off the corridor walls.
Chen Zhou’s eyebrows twitched slightly. Before he could respond, the giant strode over, each step making the ground tremble. He stood before Chen Zhou, looking down to appraise him before laughing again.
“Not bad, not bad.”
“That old fossil Zhaoye said your talent was immense and your soul age was tiny. I thought you’d be a little brat who only knew how to cry, but you’re actually quite steady.”
He reached out a palm the size of a cattail fan and slapped Chen Zhou’s shoulder.
“I forgot to introduce myself. I am Suwei, the Ghost Emperor of Suwei Mansion under the Northern Great Emperor.”
Suwei grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. His smile was candid, making him seem less like a Ghost Emperor who had lived for countless millennia and more like an old soldier fresh from the battlefield—boisterous, direct, and without guile.
“Don’t be nervous. I was just curious and came to take a look.”
“Our Great Emperor’s Palace has been silent for far too long. It wasn’t easy for a living person to arrive, and I heard he was the Young Palace Master personally chosen by the palace, so I had to come see for myself.”
He spoke like a rapid-fire cannon, giving no one a chance to interject.
“I heard you passed the trials of Zhaoye and Xuandu, and you even have your sights set on that old fellow Xuandu’s ghost mansion?”
Chen Zhou shifted slightly to move out from under Suwei’s palm and said calmly, “That is indeed the plan.”
“Good!” Suwei slapped his thigh, the sound echoing through the corridor.
“You’ve got guts! I like that!”
He waved a hand and turned to walk deeper into the corridor, stopping after two steps to beckon Chen Zhou.
“You’re here this time to take this little bald head through the Xuandu Ghost Mansion, right? What are you waiting for? Come, I’ll take you to see Xuandu.”
Chen Zhou followed him, with Wu Gou jogging behind. Wu Gou looked up at Suwei’s wall-like back and whispered to Chen Zhou, “Big Demon, this senior doesn't look very bright.”
Suwei suddenly looked back. “I heard that!”
Wu Gou immediately pressed his palms together, looking pious. “Namo Amitabha. Senior has sharp ears and eyes; this junior is full of admiration.”
Suwei snorted and turned back to continue walking, though the corners of his mouth curled up even higher.
The doors to the Xuandu Ghost Mansion were open.
Before even reaching the entrance, Chen Zhou heard the sound of an argument coming from inside.
He recognized one voice as Xuandu’s—usually cold and calm, but now there was a clear trace of suppressed impatience beneath that calm.
“I have already made myself clear.”
“Who I pass my ghost mansion to is my own business. I do not need you to interfere.”
Another voice spoke, much deeper than Xuandu’s and carrying a cold, heartless rigidity.
“Your own business? Xuandu, have you slept so long in the Great Emperor’s Palace that your brain has gone soft?”
“The Five Direction Ghost Emperor Mansions were built by the Emperor himself; each one is the crystallization of his heart’s blood.”
“Back then, the Emperor entrusted the mansion to you because he trusted and recognized you.”
“And now? You want to hand the mansion over to just any outsider, a junior who hasn't even reached the eighth stage?”
“How can you face the Emperor?”
Chen Zhou walked through the door, his gaze sweeping across the hall.
Xuandu stood on a high platform in dark green robes. His face was expressionless, but the furrow in his brow was deep.
Standing before him was a middle-aged man in black official robes and a high crown, his expression cold and stern. He carried an air of natural authority.
His features were sharp and chiseled, and his eyes were as black as ink, with no highlights in his pupils, looking like two bottomless ancient wells.
His lips were thin and pressed into a line, and his entire being exuded a rigid, almost cruel aura.
Needless to say, this was the Dongming Ghost Emperor.
The Seven Evils were huddled together in a corner of the hall, each one looking down with bated breath, appearing for all the world like seven quails being stared down by a hawk.
The moment Chen Zhou entered, the Seven Evils all breathed a sigh of relief. Fatty Ghost even secretly wiped away a bead of sweat.
Suwei strode in, shouting in his booming voice.
“Oh, Dongming is here too.”
Dongming turned his head and gave Suwei a cold look. Suwei didn't care and said with a smile.
“What are you two arguing about? You’ve been friends for how many years? Can’t you talk things over properly?”
Dongming’s voice was like ice. “He says he wants to pass the Xuandu Ghost Mansion to an outsider.”
“So what?” Suwei looked confused.
“The Emperor gave the mansions to us so we could cultivate successors, didn't he? What’s wrong with passing it to an outsider? Do you want to take your mansion into a coffin with you?”
Dongming’s gaze grew even colder.
“I have no objection to passing it to a successor, but that successor must be qualified.”
He turned to look at Xuandu.
“You say the new god’s soul age is extremely low and his talent is staggering; I will take your word for it for now.”
“But you aren't passing the mansion to that new god; you’re passing it to his subordinate god.”
“A small fry who hasn't even reached the eighth stage, and you want to hand over an entire ghost mansion?”
“Xuandu, when did you become so reckless?”
Xuandu said expressionlessly, “I have my own considerations.”
Suwei felt a headache coming on. He stepped between Xuandu and Dongming, placing a hand on each of their shoulders and saying with a laugh.
“Calm down, calm down.”
“The Young Palace Master is right here. What does it look like, the two of you fighting like this in front of a junior?”
Xuandu glanced at Suwei, then his gaze moved past him to land on Chen Zhou.
His expression softened slightly, and his tone returned to its usual calm, tinged with a bit of gentleness. “You’re back so soon?”
Chen Zhou stepped forward and bowed. “Greetings, Senior Xuandu. Greetings, Senior Suwei.”
He paused and looked at Dongming, also bowing. “And this must be Senior Dongming.”
Dongming did not respond. His gaze swept over Chen Zhou, staying for no more than a breath before moving away.
His look was cold and indifferent, as if he were looking at a piece of merchandise he wasn't quite satisfied with.
Then his gaze fell on Wu Gou, and his brow furrowed even tighter.
Second symbiosis contract? He seemed ordinary, with a barely acceptable foundation in Buddhist dharma and a special Wenchang destiny.
While a special destiny was rare, it wasn't as if they hadn't seen them before. Back in the Emperor’s day, were there few who possessed special destinies?
A mere junior at the second symbiosis contract would not have even been allowed through the doors of the Great Emperor’s Palace when the Emperor was alive.
Dongming truly could not understand why Xuandu would want such a person to inherit the ghost mansion.
What on earth was he thinking?
Dongming turned to look at Chen Zhou, his gaze as sharp as two blades.
“Zhaoye and Xuandu both say your talent is high, that you are the only hope for the divine path after a hundred thousand years.”
“I would like to ask—how high could it possibly be?”
“In an entire eon, have we seen few brilliant geniuses?”
“Where are those former paragons now?”
“Even if you possess great talent, can your subordinate god be as monstrous as you?”
“Better to have nothing than something substandard. Even if the divine path of the outside world has collapsed, there is no need to lower our standards and lead just any random riffraff into the Great Emperor’s Palace.”
“How many tens of thousands of years did the Emperor spend choosing the Five Direction Ghost Emperors? What kind of people was he waiting for?”
“You speak of passing on the inheritance as if it were nothing. Have you considered that if you entrust it to the wrong person, the entire ghost mansion will collapse?”
“When that time comes, how will you face the Emperor?”
After Dongming finished, he swept his sleeves and stood with his hands behind his back, his face filled with disappointment.
The hall fell so silent that one could hear a pin drop.
The Seven Evils shrank into the corner, wishing they could make themselves invisible.
Suwei opened his mouth, then closed it, and finally turned his head toward Zhaoye, asking with his eyes: What do we do?
Zhaoye shrugged innocently. He didn't dare interject in this situation. If Dongming knew that he also wanted to give the Zhaoye Ghost Mansion away, he would probably be hacked to pieces by Dongming right then and there.
Rate on N.U.
