“Seniors, I will find a way to resolve the matter of the Zongshe Ghost Mansion,” Chen Zhou said.
“Please hold on for a while longer.”
Chen Zhou paused, his tone becoming very serious.
“I will not fail your trust.”
Hearing these words, Suwei’s eyes suddenly grew a bit moist. He sniffed, strode up to Chen Zhou, and slapped a hand onto his shoulder.
“Good kid!”
“I wasn't wrong about you!”
He laughed heartily, his laughter making his eyebrows and eyes vanish as they squinted into thin slits.
Chen Zhou felt a sharp pain in his shoulder from the slap, but he still managed a faint smile.
Dongming frowned slightly. “Young Palace Master, the path of cultivation is one of narrow escapes.”
“It is good that you value loyalty and friendship.”
“But sometimes, being too sentimental can become a burden.”
“I have lived for a long time and seen too many people who couldn't let go of those around them, only to end up losing themselves as well.”
“Do you understand what I mean?”
Chen Zhou nodded. “I understand.”
“I will act within my capabilities.”
After saying that, Chen Zhou cupped his hands toward the four Ghost Emperors.
“I shall take my leave.”
He turned and walked toward the entrance of the hall.
Wu Gou followed behind him, his hands pressed together in prayer, not saying a word.
Behind them, the gates of the Xuandu Ghost Mansion slowly closed with a heavy thud.
Inside, the four Ghost Emperors stood in the hall, watching Chen Zhou’s departing figure on the light screen, remaining silent for a long time.
After a while, Zhaoye finally let out a sigh.
“This kid is even better than I thought. His character and talent are truly rare. As a new god, he already possesses the sense of responsibility a deity should have.”
Xuandu nodded.
“Indeed.”
“That is why I feel at ease handing over my ghost mansion to his subordinate god.”
Dongming let out a cold snort.
“Sentimentality is hollow; the path of cultivation relies on strength.”
“If his strength is insufficient, no amount of loyalty will save anyone.”
Suwei rolled his eyes.
“Old Dong, can't you say something nice for once?”
“The Young Palace Master is already working so hard. I think he’s great. The Emperor has a successor, and there’s hope for reconstructing the Underworld. When that time comes, we can finally move on in peace.”
Dongming glared at him.
“I am saying this for his own good.”
“The path of cultivation is one of narrow escapes.”
“If he ends up sacrificing himself to save someone because he values feelings too much, that would be the greatest failure.”
“I would rather he be a bit cold-blooded and selfish; at least he would live longer.”
Suwei opened his mouth to retort, but upon careful thought, what Dongming said seemed to make sense.
He scratched his head and muttered, “You’re right, but you can't put it like that.”
“The Young Palace Master isn't that kind of person.”
“If he were truly cold-blooded and selfish, would you have even given him the time of day?”
Dongming was choked by his words, unable to squeeze out a reply for a long time.
Finally, he snorted, crossed his arms, and said coldly, “I can't be bothered to argue with you.”
Suwei chuckled and wanted to say more, but Zhaoye waved his hand.
“Enough, stop arguing.”
“The Young Palace Master has his own path to walk.”
“All we can do is help him as much as we can when he needs us.”
“The rest is up to heaven’s will.”
The four Ghost Emperors fell silent.
The hall returned to a deathly stillness.
Chen Zhou walked out of the Xuandu Ghost Mansion and stood on the corridor of the Great Emperor's Palace, looking toward the distant Zongshe Ghost Mansion.
That mansion was located in the deepest part, pitch-black and devoid of any decoration, resembling an inverted coffin.
It was surrounded by a thick black mist that wrapped the entire estate tightly, making even its outline difficult to see.
One could only faintly see four points of light above the mansion, flickering like four stars about to be extinguished.
Chen Zhou watched for a few breaths before withdrawing his gaze.
Wu Gou followed behind him, hands pressed together, silent.
The air outside was cold, carrying a faint fishy scent—the smell of the Wanchuan River.
The two walked side by side for a while without speaking.
After a long time, Wu Gou spoke softly.
“Big Demon, what are you thinking about?”
Chen Zhou stopped and looked at the pitch-black horizon in the distance.
“I was thinking that those old ghosts, even though they can barely hold on themselves, are still thinking about shouldering the burden for us younger ones.”
“Why don't they let themselves have it a bit easier?”
Wu Gou smiled.
“Because they are the Ghost Emperors of the Great Emperor's Palace.”
“This is their responsibility.”
“It is also their destiny.”
Chen Zhou turned his head to look at Wu Gou.
“You think this is destiny?”
Wu Gou thought for a moment and shook his head.
“This monk feels that this is a choice.”
“To hold a position, to fulfill a duty, to keep a promise, and to carry out a task.”
“And they must be doing it willingly.”
“If they weren't willing, they would have left long ago.”
“They wouldn't have persisted for a hundred thousand years.”
Chen Zhou let out a laugh.
“You certainly see things clearly.”
Wu Gou showed a row of bright white teeth.
“Though this monk is young, I have lived two lives after all. I understand this much.”
Chen Zhou sighed and patted the monk’s bald head.
“No need to see me off; go back now.”
“Inheriting a ghost mansion is no easy task. Senior Xuandu seems like a very strict person, so prepare yourself well.”
Wu Gou nodded and pressed his hands together in a Buddhist salute.
But he didn't turn around. Instead, he looked at Chen Zhou and suddenly spoke.
“Big Demon, do you want to help them?”
Chen Zhou raised an eyebrow. “What makes you say that?”
Wu Gou smiled.
“If you want to do it, then go ahead.”
“This monk will also do his best to help you.”
After saying that, he didn't wait for Chen Zhou’s answer and turned to stride back toward the Xuandu Ghost Mansion.
Chen Zhou watched as the shiny bald head grew further away in the dim corridor, finally vanishing into the darkness.
As Wu Gou walked back, he thought of many things.
He remembered the paths he had walked and the people he had seen when he was still the Ksitigarbha of Great Vows.
The Northern Region was bitter and cold, a place of certain death. He thought of those who had died in disasters, those who struggled in despair, and those who never received salvation until the moment they died.
He also thought of this life, of the many people he had seen standing at the forefront of all beings, using their bodies of flesh and blood to block disasters.
Like the Heavenly Sword Sect, like the Corpse Soul Sect, and like the many children of the noble families in Lantao City.
Some of them lived, and some of them died.
Those who lived continued to move forward.
Those who died turned into a handful of yellow soil, with no one to remember their names.
But Wu Gou knew they never stood there just to be remembered.
When calamity arrived, when the heavens collapsed and the earth split, and when all beings were in a panic...
There would always be a group of people who stepped forward to the very front to establish a destiny for the people, to carry firewood for the masses, and to find a great shelter to protect all under heaven.
Even if the wind and snow battered their heads, even if the path ahead was cut off, they would still press on without looking back.
The Five Direction Ghost Emperors were such people.
They could have just left, could have ignored everything, could have dissipated along with the Emperor a hundred thousand years ago.
But they desperately stayed, using a sliver of their remnant souls to hold on for a hundred thousand years.
Guarding the Wujian Hell, guarding a peerless malevolent thing they knew nothing about, and guarding a hope they didn't know if they would ever see.
As Wu Gou thought of this, his footsteps paused.
He suddenly felt that Chen Zhou was also like this.
That Big Demon claimed to be an evil god, said he only cared about flesh and faith, and insisted he wasn't a good person.
But everything he did was to save the people.
In White Jade City, he saved tens of thousands.
In Kushi County, he saved the survivors of the Corpse Soul Sect.
In Lantao City, he saved the entire population.
In the Southern Region, he saved the hundreds of thousands of human-livestock hidden in Poison Flame Mountain.
In the Northern Region, he saved the living dead who had been trapped by the Ksitigarbha of Great Vows for five hundred years.
In the provincial capital of Gloomlight Province, he saved the souls of the entire city.
He had done so much, yet he never felt he had done anything remarkable.
He always said it was just a matter of convenience; he protects those who believe in him—a fair trade where neither owes the other.
But it wasn't really like that. Wu Gou knew that a deity’s nature was to protect all beings.
In such a turbid world, it truly was a difficult road to walk, one from which there was no turning back once started.
The Five Direction Ghost Emperors walked this road, and the Big Demon was walking it too.
Wu Gou took a deep breath and quickened his pace.
He would also walk this road, following the god he believed in, all the way to the end.
He would walk until he could walk no more, even if the heavens collapsed and the earth was destroyed, even if his blood and bone turned to ash.
By the time Chen Zhou emerged from the Great Emperor's Palace, it was already dark.
Lanterns had been lit in the City of the Wrongfully Dead, dotting the landscape like a starry sky reflected on the ground.
The streets were very quiet, with the occasional patrol of paper people passing by. When they saw Chen Zhou, they bowed respectfully before continuing on their way.
By the moat, he could see a large group of people gathered from a distance.
Almost everyone at the seventh stage or higher was there.
Yishu was perched on a stone post by the river, clutching a fishing rod, his eyes fixed on the water like a stone statue.
Jian Huaishuang sat across from him, expressionless, his bamboo pole perfectly still.
Su Xue and Poison-Wing sat a bit further away. Poison-Wing was flapping his wings listlessly, glancing at the water and then at Yishu from time to time, muttering something under his breath.
Cang Yu stood by the river, his aura completely restrained, his merman eyes fixed on the dark water. Tuoba Feng stood beside Cang Yu, holding the thickest fishing rod, looking extremely solemn.
Xiaoyun was cheering him on from within the coffin.
“Dad, go for it! You can do it!”
Tuoba Feng nodded, said nothing, and continued to stare at the water.
Song Zi'an was carrying several food boxes, walking back and forth with a helpless expression.
“Everyone, eat something first.”
“Man is made of iron, but rice is steel; miss one meal and you'll feel the ordeal.”
“You've been fishing since this morning without eating anything. Your bodies won't be able to take it.”
No one paid him any attention.
Song Zi'an walked over to Yishu and opened a food box, revealing a plate of steaming buns.
“Lord Rat, have some.”
Yishu didn't even turn his head, his eyes glued to the water.
“Not eating.”
“Not hungry.”
“This rat is going to have a showdown with the inheritance.”
“Little Song, you don't understand. This rat is the leader of the auspicious ones; the pressure is immense. I absolutely cannot lose.”
“At least I can't catch mine later than my subordinates. What would that look like?”
Song Zi'an’s mouth twitched. He then walked over to Poison-Wing.
“Lord Poison, why don't you eat something?”
Poison-Wing glanced at him, then at the buns in the box, and swallowed his saliva.
“Not eating.”
“I'm going to catch mine at the same time as Brother Rat.”
Song Zi'an: “...”
Chen Zhou walked over and stood by the river, looking at the dark water.
“Caught anything?”
Yishu didn't look back and said in a muffled voice, “Nothing.”
“It’s been a whole day, and I haven't caught so much as a hair.”
“Milord, is there really an inheritance? This rat is starting to doubt if there’s actually anything in this river.”
Chen Zhou smiled.
“There is.”
“But it’s not easy to catch.”
Chen Zhou remembered the first time he had entered the Immortal-Slaying Shrine.
Back then, he had sat by the Wanchuan River for a hundred years.
Later, A Yao and the others had mentioned that their first time fishing also took hundreds of years, showing that obtaining an inheritance was no simple matter.
Chen Zhou pulled himself out of his thoughts and looked at the frustrated group of anglers, saying a few words.
“Take your time.”
“You can't rush Wanchuan fishing.”
“The first time I entered the Immortal-Slaying Shrine, I also sat for a hundred years. Fishing requires patience.”
Everyone turned their heads in unison, looking at him with shocked expressions.
Yishu’s eyes widened.
“A hundred years?!”
“Milord, you aren't joking, are you?”
Chen Zhou shook his head.
Yishu opened his mouth, closed it, then opened it again, finally managing to say, “Then this rat being skunked today isn't a disgrace?”
Chen Zhou smiled. “It is not.”
Yishu immediately breathed a sigh of relief. He turned back to the water, the anxiety in his eyes significantly lessened.
“Then this rat will take his time.”
“No rush anyway.”
Beside him, Poison-Wing also sighed in relief. He jammed his fishing rod into the ground and grabbed the buns Song Zi'an had placed nearby, eating them in large gulps.
Just as Chen Zhou was about to leave, Duke Wu hurried over from a distance and bowed to him.
“Exalted One, you have returned.”
Chen Zhou nodded. “What is it?”
Duke Wu looked energetic, his voice booming. “Exalted One, not long after you left today, a book suddenly appeared in the Wenxin Hall.”
“This book is very strange. Neither I nor that old fellow Duke Wen can understand what is written in it.”
“We gave it to Tao Tuantuan to look at, but Tuantuan only said she could see a blurry image, appearing like many people sacrificing something.”
“As for the text in the book, even as a Wenchang Noble, she finds it difficult to understand.”
Chen Zhou then remembered that the Wenxin Hall seemed to have a trait that automatically collected ancient texts.
【Wenchang Treasury: If a Wenchang Noble resides in the Wenxin Hall, the hall will automatically attract ancient texts from across the world.】
【Every seven days, a new book will automatically appear on the shelves. The content covers techniques, pill formulas, formation diagrams, history books, travelogues, insights, secrets, etc.】
【Note: The quality of the books is related to the overall fortune of the City of the Wrongfully Dead and the strength of the Wenchang Noble’s destiny. There is a chance for peerless unique copies, lost secret manuals, or even ancient divine path inheritances to appear.】
Chen Zhou raised an eyebrow. “Where is the book?”
Duke Wu took a thin booklet from his sleeve and presented it with both hands.
“Please take a look, Exalted One.”
Chen Zhou took the book.
The book was very old. The cover was a piece of yellowed beast skin with frayed edges and some unidentifiable stains that looked like blood or perhaps pigment.
Opening the title page, the paper inside was even more yellowed and as thin as a cicada's wing, looking as if it would crumble at the slightest touch.
The text on it was very strange, winding and twisting, unlike any language Chen Zhou had ever seen.
However, after staring at the characters for a few breaths, Chen Zhou suddenly realized that he could actually understand them.
Every word, every sentence, and every symbol was imprinted clearly in his mind.
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