Chapter Sixty-Three: Farewell

Since the matter was already settled and, with my current abilities, I could do nothing to change it, I could only accept the outcome. Since Marshal Niu had not shattered my grandfather’s soul just now, but instead had taken him to the Underworld, my grandfather certainly wouldn’t “die.” Otherwise, Marshal Niu wouldn’t have bothered with such a detour. However, the fact that he would have to endure punishment in the eighteenth layer of hell was an ironclad certainty.

I took a deep breath and made a silent vow to myself: I must become stronger, far stronger, until I have the power to descend into the Underworld and rescue my grandfather from the depths of hell.

That night, the three of us—Wang Feiyang, Lu Li, and I—found a 24-hour food stall and drank ourselves into oblivion. Even Lu Li, who was usually not fond of drinking back in Mount Shu, downed an entire crate of beer.

We drank from midnight until after six in the morning, finally staggering back to the coffin shop. Once inside, we collapsed and slept for a full day and night, not waking until the morning of the third day.

Surprisingly, I slept deeply and dreamlessly. There were no nightmares, nor did I dream of those people who’d weighed so heavily on my heart. I thought I might see my grandfather suffering in hell, or my father’s soul being scattered, or perhaps being rescued by the old man Di Yi from that unknown rift in space. I even thought I might dream of the pipa girl we met in the City of Wrongful Death, or that yin-yang scholar who made my skin crawl, or the red-eyed monkey that left me with lingering fear.

But I saw none of these. When I awoke, the first ray of morning sunlight was warm upon my body. My entire body ached, but I felt a strange sense of relief. Lu Li and Wang Feiyang were still sleeping soundly beside me. I did not wake them, but went straight to the washroom in the attic.

I showered, shaved the beard I couldn’t remember last trimming, and ran my fingers roughly through my hair. I looked haggard, and to my shock, I found strands of white hair mixed among the black—at only twenty years old. Perhaps the anxiety of recent events had taken its toll, or perhaps the curse of the Nine Yin Severed Veins had already begun to manifest.

Only three years remained for me to live. If I could not attain a godly position among the Underworld’s officials in that time, the curse would claim my life. In the past, this knowledge would have filled me with dread and panic. But after all I’d been through, I had learned to see things differently.

Three years isn’t long, but it’s not so short. I must claim the title of Underworld official—not just for myself, but so I can climb the ranks and rescue my grandfather from the eighteenth layer of hell.

After washing up, I felt more refreshed. I went out for breakfast, and when I returned, Wang Feiyang and Lu Li were awake. They, too, washed up and looked much less despondent than before.

“Back already?” Lu Li greeted me.

“Yes,” I replied, smiling at them both, then sat at the Eight Immortals table. “Let’s eat.”

During the meal, none of us mentioned what had happened before. A strange, tacit understanding had formed among us. Only when the food was finished did Lu Li set down his chopsticks and say, “Brothers, I have to return to Mount Shu.”

I nodded, looking at him across the table. Now that the Daoist nun had been eliminated, I asked if his purpose in coming down the mountain was complete.

“Not quite,” Lu Li replied, his answer making my heart skip a beat.

He explained that his descent from the mountain was a trial assigned by his sect—a test, but also a form of sabotage. Mount Shu was selecting their next leader, and Lu Li was a candidate. The various factions within the sect were complex and entangled, and the task of finding the Daoist nun had been deliberately assigned by a rival elder who wanted him to fail and lose his candidacy.

I set down my chopsticks, my mind already guessing at the truth. I asked, “What, exactly, did the elder ask you to do?”

“Kill the Daoist nun and retrieve the Netherworld Tome.”

Wang Feiyang immediately set down his bowl, frowning coldly at Lu Li. “So, the ‘not quite’ you mentioned refers to the Netherworld Tome?”

Lu Li nodded, his face awkward and helpless.

“Are you going to take it by force?” Wang Feiyang instinctively reached for the bamboo knife at his waist, but I stopped him with a firm grip on his wrist. I took a deep breath and told Lu Li that if he truly needed it, I was willing to give him the Netherworld Tome.

Lu Li looked at me, exhaled slowly, and stood up. Without looking back, he walked straight to the coffin shop’s door. His whole body trembled, as if making a difficult choice. “I did not find the Daoist nun during my descent. Consider this trial a failure.”

With those words, he strode away without hesitation.

“Brother!” I leapt to my feet, my heart aching as if pierced by needles. I couldn’t know exactly what this failure meant for Lu Li, but I could guess it was no small matter—it might even affect his entire life.

Lu Li paused, then turned and forced a lighthearted smile at us. “Wu Dao, Wang Feiyang, I grew up on the mountain, surrounded by scheming and intrigue. Aside from my master, I have no family. This time, you let me know that there is a kind of bond in this world called brotherhood.”

My eyes reddened, and Wang Feiyang sat in silence, brows furrowed.

"Wu Dao, Wang Feiyang, whatever happens, live well. If you have the chance, come visit me on Mount Shu.”

With those words, Lu Li finally turned away and disappeared from our sight.

“The Daoist nun vanished twenty years ago, and the Netherworld Tome was lost at the same time. Perhaps, when it resurfaces, its master will be an unrivaled king, able to stand alone against the world.”

Lu Li’s final words echoed in my mind. I did not chase after him, for I knew that all gatherings must end. He was simply returning to Mount Shu. I did not know what he would face in that bloody struggle for succession, but I had resolved to become stronger—not just for myself and my grandfather, but also for this foolish brother who was willing to give up the Netherworld Tome for my sake.

“When I become that unrivaled king, I will surely lend you my strength.”

With that, I returned to the coffin shop and sat down again across from Wang Feiyang. “Brother Yang, what are your plans?”

Wang Feiyang thought for a moment, then took out the book on paper soldier making that Wang Bilin had given him in the City of Wrongful Death. “My family has made paper offerings for generations. This skill, passed down from our ancestors, must not be lost. Since my grandfather told me to find that paper craftsman named Yan Fei at the Triangle Stele in the city, I’ll go to him.”

“And you?” Wang Feiyang asked, looking up.

I smiled. “What plans could I have? Now that my grandfather is gone, the coffin shop can’t stay open. He left me some savings, so I’ll use them to finish college.”

Only then did Wang Feiyang remember that I was just a college sophomore, home for winter break, never expecting all these extraordinary events to befall me.

“What about your Nine Yin Severed Veins?” he asked, concern plain on his face. “You have only three years, and that Hell King Seal the old man Di Yi sealed in you—he must have a scheme.”

I nodded. “I’ll finish school, break the curse, and besides, I have to find the one called 'Seven-Slaughter Demon Blade.' But I have no leads right now. I need a place to settle, and university is the best place for that.”