You told Chen Yue about everything that had happened to you over the past century or so.
From working as a laborer by the Qing River, to destroying the Ancient Wilderness Secret Realm, to embarking on the path to immortality and venturing into the Material Realm.
Chen Yue looked at you, tears welling in her eyes and her face filled with heartache.
“Fourth Brother, you’ve suffered so much. When we were children, everyone at home doted on you the most…”
“Not counting Big Brother, of course. Do you remember that time when he and I went up the mountain to chop firewood? He said he was going to take a bath and told me to wait for him. In the end, I never saw him again—I only saw a snake…”
Your words made Chen Yue laugh.
“Do you tell everyone that story? Big Brother would be furious if he found out.”
You didn’t tell Chen Yue about everything you had seen when you visited the Human Realm.
Their parents were already gone. If she found out that Big Brother and Third Sister were gone as well, Chen Yue would be heartbroken.
Besides, she couldn’t go to the Human Realm anyway. There was no need to burden her with unnecessary sorrow.
While you and your Second Sister were chatting, Ji Baiming stepped forward and asked,
“May I ask if Miss Chen is from the Netherworld?”
Chen Yue nodded.
“That’s right, Patriarch Ji. I’m with the Netherworld’s Development Bureau, responsible for the construction and maintenance of Nether Domains throughout the region.”
“May I ask who your master is?”
“The Red River Nether King!”
Ji Baiming drew in a sharp breath.
Ji Wuqing was bursting with curiosity and kept pressing his father for answers.
“Dad, what does that mean? I know what the Netherworld is, but what’s a Nether Domain? And who’s the Red River Nether King? Is he really that powerful?”
Ji Baiming gave him an explanation.
The Netherworld was not another separate world. It was a star system known as the Netherworld Star System, adjacent to the Milky Way Star System.
Though the two star systems were neighbors, there were no navigable routes connecting them, and the distance between them was unbelievably vast. Traveling between them was extremely troublesome.
The Netherworld Star System was a very special place. It had not originally been called that.
According to legend, in the ancient past, a cataclysmic prehistoric war had erupted across that region of the universe.
The war ravaged the entire star system, destroying all life on its planets and rendering the region unsuitable for the birth of new life for a very long time.
Thus, the entire star system became a dead land.
No one knew how much time had passed before some powerful souls that had refused to disperse opened up a unique path of cultivation upon that dead land—the path of ghost cultivation.
They also established a nation of the dead.
After countless years, the ghost cultivators grew into a powerful force made up entirely of souls, occupying the entire star system.
They called themselves the people of the Netherworld and renamed the entire star system the Netherworld.
When you heard this, you couldn’t help frowning.
“Uncle Ji, when I was in the Human Realm, I heard about the Netherworld too. People there say that after they die, their souls are taken away by the Netherworld. Are these two…”
Ji Baiming nodded.
“They’re one and the same.”
“Gasp…”
This time, it was you who sucked in a sharp breath.
Before the Netherworld appeared, when living beings died, their bodies were buried in the earth and their souls returned to the heavens.
That was simply a natural phenomenon.
After the Netherworld emerged, the ghost cultivators needed to expand their population, cultivate, and acquire the resources required by their path of cultivation—in other words, souls. Thus, in ancient times, powerful ghost cultivators created the Soul Sea.
The Soul Sea absorbed wandering souls from throughout the heavens and earth, gathering them in one place so that the ghost cultivators could make use of them.
The souls of living beings from a single star system gradually ceased to satisfy the ever-growing population of ghost cultivators.
So they created the Nether Domains as well.
Outside the normal world, they opened up additional domains that ordinary people could not enter and that only souls could access.
When a living being died, the power of the Nether Domains would automatically draw in its soul and guide it into the Soul Sea.
Over the endless years, the Nether Domains had spread across many star systems. As a neighboring star system, the Milky Way had naturally been included long ago.
The Nether Domains had no effect whatsoever on the real world. Their sole function was to absorb the souls of the dead.
That was why most star systems didn’t care about the Netherworld’s methods.
Even without the Nether Domains, the souls of the dead would eventually dissipate.
Of course, there were people who did care—such as the Dragonfolk.
After their physical bodies died, their souls had originally been able to defy the laws of nature and automatically become existences resembling ghost cultivators.
Now, however, they needed to reach a certain level of cultivation—enough to resist the pull of the Nether Domains—if they wished to remain behind.
But the Netherworld was no easy opponent.
“If you agree to let me establish Nether Domains, you and I can leave each other alone. If you refuse, then thank you in advance for contributing to the Soul Sea.”
“The methods of the Netherworld’s experts are unfathomable. To cultivators from our Milky Way Star System, the Void Realm is so difficult to reach that even an Immortal King can barely set foot in it. Yet the Nether Domains have already encompassed the entire Void Realm.”
“That’s why every plane in the Void Realm has legends about the Netherworld.”
You scratched your head.
“That’s awfully mysterious…”
“It’s only natural that you don’t understand the methods of ghost cultivators.”
“Then who exactly is the Red River Nether King?”
“The Netherworld, like our Milky Way Star System, has only one Immortal Emperor. Their Immortal Emperor is called the Nether Emperor. The Red River Nether King is equivalent in strength to an Immortal King on our side. In the Netherworld, both his power and authority are second only to the Nether Emperor!”
Your eyes sparkled as you looked at Chen Yue.
“Second Sister, is that really true?”
Chen Yue nodded.
“Patriarch Ji is truly well-informed. Chen Yue is impressed.
“Although my master is famous throughout the Netherworld Star System, not many people here have heard of him. His abilities are truly extraordinary.
“Back then, I was merely a minor martial artist in the Human Realm, yet he was able to draw my soul up from the Material Realm. I had seen countless ghost cultivators before, so I never found the various techniques for manipulating souls particularly astonishing.
“It was only after I learned how profound the separation between the Void and Material Realms was that I realized just how formidable my master truly is.”
Ji Wuqing immediately caught the key point.
“Senior Red River Nether King must have paid an enormous price to bring you up from the Void Realm, right? Even with his power, doing something like that must have consumed a tremendous amount of energy.”
“Yes. That time, Master used up one-tenth of the souls in the Soul Sea.
“As for why he valued me so highly, he only said that I possessed a special soul ideally suited to the path of ghost cultivation. He hoped to nurture me so that I could inherit his legacy in the future.”
“Inherit his legacy? Aren’t you ghost cultivators already dead?”
“Ghost cultivators have no concept of a fixed lifespan, but remaining intact after death goes against the laws of Heaven. Every so often, we must undergo a Ghost Tribulation. If we fail, our souls are annihilated. Even if we succeed, the tribulation consumes part of our origin. As time passes, our origin is gradually exhausted, and our soul-bodies disperse all the same.”
You listened, finding it all rather novel.
You had even wondered why this cultivation world had no heavenly tribulations.
It turned out that the ghost cultivators bore them all.
“Wait, Second Sister. You’re a ghost cultivator too?”
“Of course. Since I cultivate under Master, I’m naturally a ghost cultivator as well.”
“Then… you’re already dead?”
“That’s one way to put it.”
“But you clearly have a body?”
“Our physical bodies are merely a convenience for moving through the mortal world. Without them, many people wouldn’t be able to see us at all, and dealing with the living would be terribly inconvenient.”
“The physical bodies of ghost cultivators aren’t particularly strong, and they have no interest in refining powerful bodies. There’s simply no point. If a body is destroyed, they can just recreate one from their soul sea—it’s far more cost-effective.”
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
uld barely embark on the path to immortality. Just as he was on the verge of death, his golden finger awakened. No matter whether it was poison, drained blood and vital energy, diminished lifespan, or any other physical debuff caused by paying a price—once midnight passed, everything would be refreshed. From then on, whenever someone asked what kind of person Chu Ran was, the answer was simple: Forbidden arts that other cultivators dared not learn? Chu Ran would learn them. Prices that even demonic cultivators dared not pay? Chu Ran would pay them. Lifespan that even righteous cultivators dared not burn? Chu Ran would burn it. All the blood essence in his body? Take it. Want both his hands and feet? He would cut them off and send them to you. You say he’s finished? He wasn’t built to sit idle. You think he’s gone mad? No—he was simply waiting for midnight. From that day onward, Chu Ran would respect neither Heaven nor Earth, bow to neither gods nor ghosts. He had only one wish: For midnight to arrive a little sooner.
't think I'm that capable, I'm just trying my best to stay alive. I've been kind all my life, never did anything bad, yet worldly suffering spared me not one bit. The human world is a nice place, but I won't come back in my next life. A kind young man, who wanted to just get by singing, but through repeated deceits and betrayals, has gone down an irredeemable path.
