Chapter 121: The Netherworld Ghost Path

When a human dies, they become a ghost; when a ghost dies, they become a *Zhi*; when a *Zhi* dies, they become a *Xi*; when a *Xi* dies, they become a *Yi*; when a *Yi* dies, they become a *Wei*; when a *Wei* dies, they become formless.

That which is formless is called *Yi*.
That which is soundless is called *Xi*.

In truth, this is also a path of cultivation within the netherworld of ghosts.

The origins of the world’s yin-ghosts generally fall into three categories.

The first is when the physical body of a cultivator decays and becomes unusable, yet their primordial spirit refuses to enter the Yellow Springs for reincarnation. Instead, they absorb the turbid yin and baleful energies, casting off their essence to transmute their nature, refining themselves into a spectral entity. By switching to the nether path, they seek to attain longevity for another lifetime. This method is quite common in certain lands and realms; within a single clan or sect, humans and ghosts often dwell together, and it is not strange to find a ghost mother and her human son sharing the same room.

However, the Xudu Heaven is a realm of a much higher order, far beyond the reach of ordinary lands or minor planes. Furthermore, this is an era where the Immortal Path manifests its sanctity, brilliantly suppressing all other profound calamities and myriad paths. It cages heaven and earth, exhaling and inhaling yin and yang, stretching out the four seasons and governing the eight extremities. The cultivators within this realm are exceptionally proud; if their bodies are damaged, most would choose to be reborn in hopes of re-entering the orthodox Immortal Path in their next life, rather than debasing their spirits to continue their cultivation as yin-ghosts.

The second category pertains to places of turbid yin, such as the Earth Abyss. When the heavenly timing is misaligned, the light and clear qi fail to emerge, the yang energy does not arrive, and the tortoise and snake are locked away. Over many years, the baleful spirits stir without moving, and the divine essence flows without manifesting, eventually giving birth to countless naturally formed yin-ghosts.

And the final category? That is when these yin-ghosts mate, producing ghost children and grandchildren...

...

Song Rupo was not the transformed spirit of any cultivator, nor did he have a ghost father or mother. He was merely a common spectral soul who, by a stroke of luck, came into being due to the creative forces of the turbid yin within the Earth Abyss. At first, he was ignorant, his spiritual awareness unawakened. Only after an unknown number of years did he gradually develop intelligence and come to understand morality.

Although the Earth Abyss is a treacherous and bizarre place for those of the Immortal Path, for ghosts like Song Rupo, it is a superior place for cultivation, comparable to the blessed lands and grotto-heavens of the orthodox path. After absorbing turbid essence along the way, and narrowly surviving several instances where he was almost swallowed as a snack by greater ghosts, Song Rupo finally carved out a small reputation for himself. Later, following an ancient text, he gave himself the name Song Rupo, and he was quite full of himself at the time.

The reason he was captured was that he had heard the offspring of Lord Shanhu was looking for a husband, and he had come to join the fun, hoping to have a cup of wedding wine.

Lord Shanhu is a renowned elder of the ghost path in this region. Within the cultivation of the nether ghost path: human dies into ghost, ghost into *Zhi*, *Zhi* into *Xi*, *Xi* into *Yi*, *Yi* into *Wei*, and *Wei* into formless—and beyond formlessness lies another vast realm. This old man had already ascended from "ghost" to "*Zhi*," and sixty years ago, he climbed from "*Zhi*" to "*Xi*." He is now a formidable ghost of the "Great *Xi*" realm. Moreover, his consort, Granny Feihua, is also a "*Zhi*" with considerable combat power that cannot be underestimated.

These two ghosts have held sway here for untold years, commanding myriad evils, with hundreds of offspring and countless spiritual ghosts under their command. Although they cannot compare to the ancient yin-gods in the depths of the Earth Abyss, they are a power unto themselves.

Song Rupo had only intended to watch the excitement and offer a few flattering words. If he could make the young lady happy, he might be able to leverage a connection to Lord Shanhu. At that point, his future would truly be boundless.

Unexpectedly, upon their first meeting, the young lady, who had already secured a husband, took an immediate liking to Song Rupo. To show her sincerity, she swallowed her original suitor in one gulp and then placed the helpless Song Rupo under house arrest.

Three days later, they were to be married!

The onlooker had become the spectacle. Whenever Song Rupo thought of the young lady's appearance, he felt a chill run down his spine, his legs trembling uncontrollably. She was essentially a massive, moving mountain of carrion, oozing pus and foul stench, covered in green mold and yellow spots. The fishy, putrid wind exhaled from her mouth and nose was enough to blow Song Rupo from the garden pavilion all the way to the central hall, rolling along the ground without being able to stop. This was no marriage; it was a death sentence!

Song Rupo had persistently tried to escape several times, only to be stopped by a crowd of servants, unable to extricate himself...

At this moment, the Long-Tongued Ghost looked at Song Rupo, who was being held down by a group of large ghosts, and pondered. She felt that using force like this was not a sustainable way to maintain harmony. Thus, she changed her tone and spoke in soft, wheedling words:

"Why must you be so stubborn, my dear son-in-law, refusing to comply even unto death?"

"You ask me that? You know why!" Song Rupo glared, his eyes fixed on the Long-Tongued Ghost. If he weren't being pinned down by the other ghosts, he would have loved to give her a sound thrashing.

"Flesh and skin are merely external appearances; they are of no consequence," the Long-Tongued Ghost giggled, unfazed. "After the candles are blown out, aren't they all the same?"

"What a load of horse manure! How could they be the same? After the candles are blown out, your young lady only needs to turn over to crush me to death!" Song Rupo cursed, his voice booming like a bell.

The Long-Tongued Ghost was not annoyed. She waited patiently until he had finished his angry tirade and could think of no new insults before she chuckled:

"Say what you will, the young lady is the offspring of Lord Shanhu and Granny Feihua. You have no family elders; you are a lone, wandering ghost. Furthermore, you have no real skill, and your ghostly arts are mediocre at best. To be blunt, if you were to be chewed up as a snack by some powerful ghost one day, there wouldn't even be anyone to howl in mourning for you. Only by latching onto the young lady's thick thigh will you have the chance to elevate your status. Isn't it foolish to be so stubborn?"

A thick thigh? How could that mass be called a thigh? It was clearly a battering ram! Even a light tap from it would cost him half his life!

Song Rupo felt as though his spirit had turned to ash. After a long while, he managed to speak: "I don't understand. I truly don't... Your young lady clearly already had a husband. Why, as soon as she saw me, was she so impatient, as if she couldn't do without me?"

Song Rupo kept a wooden expression: "I've been a ghost for so many years, and I've never figured out what was so outstanding about me? Your young lady truly has eyes like torches!"

"Naturally, it is because you are exceptionally beautiful," the Long-Tongued Ghost nodded firmly. "You are handsome, and the young lady admires you in her heart. What is there not to understand?"

Handsome? Song Rupo, in his fury, froze as if he had heard an absurd joke. He silently reached up to touch his face, rubbed his eyes hard, and opened his lips, but no words came out. Since gaining sentience so long ago, with his average appearance, this was the first time he had ever heard such a critique.

The Long-Tongued Ghost looked utterly convinced, and the large ghosts holding him down nodded in agreement, making him feel as if he were in a dream, wondering if he had misheard.

"I... beautiful? I heard Lord Shanhu has hundreds of offspring, and your young lady is considered one of the less favored ones. Hearing this today, I see the rumors were true," Song Rupo said, his emotions complex—half amused, half dejected. "It seems you lot have truly never tasted decent pork..."

The Long-Tongued Ghost signaled, and the group of giant ghosts quickly understood, hastily withdrawing their hands, allowing the expressionless Song Rupo to climb to his feet.

"According to custom, not only the young lady, but her two personal maids, Xiao Chan and Ziying, are also to be taken as concubines for you," she leaned toward Song Rupo, her foul, long tongue twitching as she spoke, causing Song Rupo to shudder and retreat a few steps. "Xiao Chan you can ignore; she looks like a Great Vajra Warrior, and you likely wouldn't find her attractive. But Ziying is quite beautiful."

At this point, the Long-Tongued Ghost sighed with regret: "It's a pity Ziying took the little ghosts to Old Willow Village today to collect meat goods from the turbid ghosts. I wonder what the quality is like? The good meat in the human pens has been nearly eaten up by the young lady in recent years, and now we can't even find many for breeding. Everyone is missing that fatty, tender taste. I just hope they are first-class meat, that—"

"Enough! Who wants to talk to you about eating people?" Seeing that the Long-Tongued Ghost’s mouth was already overflowing with saliva that hit the ground with a sizzling sound, Song Rupo coldly interrupted her endless rambling: "Is that Ziying also a 'Zhao-cultivator' who eats flesh and blood?"

"You joke, my dear son-in-law. We even have human pens here; who isn't a Zhao-cultivator?" The Long-Tongued Ghost swallowed her saliva and smacked her lips with lingering desire. "A 'Jing-cultivator' like you is truly rare. In a thousand spiritual ghosts, I doubt I'd find even one."

"Why don't you try the delicious taste of blood and flesh to vent the fire in your heart?" She flicked her long tongue and smiled. "Coincidentally, I received a good specimen from the human pen yesterday. Not old, smooth skin and tender meat. I heard they are a practitioner of the orthodox Immortal Path, from some Xuanzhen Sect outside the Earth Abyss?"

Song Rupo remained cold and silent. He turned and walked away.

"Come! Take our son-in-law back to his room!" The Long-Tongued Ghost clapped her hands, and the giant ghosts followed.

"If you don't even eat blood and flesh, what kind of life is this..."

Once Song Rupo was far away and no longer in sight, the Long-Tongued Ghost turned and headed toward the human pens, muttering to herself: "These Jing-cultivators are all blockheads, nothing like us Zhao-cultivators. I wonder what it will be like for the young lady after they marry, and how she'll deal with him?"

Thinking of this, the Long-Tongued Ghost shook her head, drifted into the air, and transformed into a sinister spectral shadow. Hungry and thirsty, she seemed to faintly hear the countless screams from the distant human pens and smelled the sweet, fragrant aroma that wafted out when flesh and blood were cleaved open by large axes. Her heart grew hot, and she accelerated even faster.

...

...

Elsewhere, strange fragrances drifted through the air, and string music played with a sharp resonance.

Chen Heng looked up and saw more than a dozen giant, green-faced, fanged corpses carrying a deep crimson golden-silk sedan chair, floating slowly through the air. In front, a band of musicians played drums and gongs, and behind, maidservants scattered flowers in accompaniment; the display was quite grand.

The yin wind billowed, lifting a corner of the curtain, and one could faintly see a beautiful female ghost in purple robes sitting inside. She was holding a snack from the table in front of her, popping it into her mouth piece by piece, her eyes slightly narrowed with satisfaction.

"This guest is quite rare; you look very unfamiliar."

As soon as the golden-silk sedan chair stopped, a soft, honeyed laugh drifted from within. The purple-clad female ghost floated gracefully out of the sedan, looked at Chen Heng, paused for a moment, and then spoke shyly:

"Why does a gentleman stand in such a filthy place, talking to this group of mindless turbid ghosts? Are you hungry? I happen to have some snacks here; would you like to have some?"

She lifted a round porcelain platter from the table inside the sedan and held it out toward Chen Heng, smiling with pursed lips: "It was selected and slaughtered from the human pens just today. It is truly fresh, not like that sour, leftover garbage. You might as well try it and see if it suits your taste."

The platter was quite wide, the size of a banana leaf, and on it were delicately stacked dark red hearts and spleens, garnished with flower petals. A pungent, fishy odor rushed into his nostrils, making him want to vomit; his stomach churned, and breathing became difficult.

"Among humans, I like these internal organs best. I find them refreshing and slippery. Even the young lady sometimes can't out-compete me for them," the purple-clad female ghost said, acting shy and timid. "By the way, I haven't introduced myself. I am the personal maid of Miss Yue. Miss Yue is the offspring of Lord Shanhu and Granny Feihua. May I ask where you come from, and have you heard the names of these two elders?"

*Lord Shanhu again... and a Granny Feihua?*

Chen Heng pondered for a moment, then bowed and smiled: "I am but a lone ghost from the wilderness; I have no prominent background and am not worth mentioning. As for the names of the two elders, forgive my ignorance; I am truly ashamed. As for why I am here, I was simply restless and decided to go for a stroll. I happened to see this cultivator of the orthodox Immortal Path tied up on the meat table and was curious, so I came to take a closer look. If I have offended you, I hope you will not hold it against me."

"Going for a stroll?" The purple-clad female ghost nodded, her smile as bright as a flower. She continued: "I am called Ziying. You can call me that. As for this cultivator of the orthodox Immortal Path—"

She began: "It’s a coincidence. It seems many people have come from outside the Earth Abyss recently. Not just him, but many others. Let me think, were they all Taoists from the Xuanzhen Sect?"

"Oh? Where did these people find the courage? Are they throwing themselves into the tiger's mouth?" Chen Heng felt a slight shock in his heart, but his face remained calm. He just laughed: "The flesh and blood of cultivators is excellent food. Have you managed to capture any of them?"

"I don't have that ability, but the young lady went out herself and got some excellent meat. I chatted with them and even learned their names." Ziying was excited, counting on her fingers: "Yu Wanchou, Wang Ying, Xu Zhi, and someone named Zhao... forget it, I can't remember."

*Xu Zhi? Why him? How did he end up in the Earth Abyss?*

Chen Heng’s heart skipped a beat. He forcibly restrained his gaze and quelled the urge to kill.

Just then, Ziying suddenly turned around and plucked off her own head!

"I still don't know your name. Oh, by the way—" she said with a sinister grin: "How do you like my current appearance?"