Dread King's Bride

Situ Jing knew about walking the Yin-Yang path; his master had once taken him through it. Yet, witnessing QingWu traverse the Yin-Yang path in her own way left him utterly dumbfounded.

"Taking a living person through the Yin-Yang path? That's impossible! The Yin-Yang road is drenched in deathly aura. Any living person entering would either become a feast for wandering spirits or lose their vitality entirely!"

Mu Ying had already been helped outside, clutching the flower lantern gifted by QingWu.

"If you think it's impossible, it just means you haven't lived long enough, child." With a casual tone, QingWu formed a seal with one hand, as effortlessly as if opening her own door.

"By decree, open the Yin-Yang road!"

Though nothing visibly changed, an icy wind slammed into them, biting into their bones and making teeth chatter. Without wasting another word, QingWu grabbed Mu Ying by one hand and tugged at Xiao Chenyuan's sleeve with the other, pulling the two of them forward a single step.

In that instant, all three vanished. The chilling wind receded, leaving everything as if it had been a mere illusion. The "child," Situ Jing, pinched his thigh hard and took a deep breath. "As expected, I'm still too young!"

It was a sight he would never forget!

The Yin-Yang road wasn't so much a road as it was an endless expanse of dense, suffocating darkness. The faint glow of light came from the flower lantern in Mu Ying's trembling hands. Her teeth chattered uncontrollably as she glanced around nervously. Shadows in the mist seemed to conceal countless eyes watching her, and eerie, fragmented whispers filled the air.

"Leave!"

QingWu's commanding voice echoed, causing the mist to ripple as though struck. Something within the fog screamed and fled in all directions. Mu Ying felt the oppressive deathly aura ease, and she exhaled in relief. Then she heard QingWu's voice behind her.

"I've sealed your vitality into the soul lantern. It will guide you to your son. No matter what you hear, do not look back. Remember, never let go of the lantern. If it extinguishes—whether or not you've found Wang Yulang—I will take you away immediately."

Mu Ying's heart tightened. "Understood." She felt the pull of the lantern in her hand and instinctively quickened her pace. Yet, despite the absence of the bone-chilling wind, the Yin-Yang road was no easy path. Her feet felt like they were sinking into a swamp, each step demanding all her strength.

QingWu watched silently from behind, offering no further assistance. The rest of the journey would depend on Mu Ying herself. Compared to her struggle, Xiao Chenyuan strolled effortlessly, even taking time to observe his surroundings. Perhaps ten years of enduring the constant chill of the underworld had left him immune; even without a soul lantern, the surrounding deathly wind barely fazed him. In fact, the ominous energy that usually cloaked him seemed to retreat, almost as if it feared the Yin-Yang road.

"So bright…"

Xiao Chenyuan turned his head, meeting QingWu's striking gaze. Her eyes weren't playful or teasing as usual but filled with a raw, inhuman hunger, like a ravenous beast eyeing its prey.

"What's so bright?"

"You are!" said QingWu, suppressing the surge of greed within her and trying to muster some semblance of humanity. "Do you have any idea how radiant your presence is on this Yin-Yang Path?"

"Radiant?" Xiao Chenyuan frowned. He couldn't sense anything unusual.

Nearby, the Judge's Brush nearly drooled. "I always knew his fate was extraordinary, but it was obscured by his Yin energy that had curse on him. Now that it's visible—oh my! Such a halo of merit and imperial dragon energy. A natural emperor's destiny. No wonder you dared bring him onto the Yin-Yang Path."

Xiao Chenyuan tilted his head and glanced at QingWu. He had faintly heard a voice, as though it came from her. Although the words were unclear, he was certain it wasn't a figment of his imagination.

Lowering his gaze, he asked softly, "Is this what the world after death looks like? The Yellow Springs Road?"

"This isn't the Yellow Springs Road," she replied. "This is the seam between the mortal and nether realms. The Yellow Springs Road spans Thousands of miles. Countless wandering souls and restless ghosts roam there, needing a ghost emissary to guide them. Only after crossing the Yellow Springs can one reach the Underworld."

She continued, "What you see here are spirits of wrongful or unjust deaths. Their lingering attachments to the mortal realm keep them bound here, ceaselessly searching for a way to return."

A flicker crossed his face as if he had grasped a thought. Gripping QingWu's hand tightly, he asked, "If I want to find someone's soul, can I locate it here?"

"No," QingWu shook her head. "I know who you seek, but their souls are not on this path."

The disappointment on Xiao Chenyuan's face was unmistakable. The ones he longed to find were the souls of the former crown prince and his consort. Tragically, not only were their souls went missing—so were her parents' and brother's.

Ten years ago, on the same fateful day, his parents perished in a fire at the Eastern Palace, and her family met their demise on the northern frontier.

"Xiao Chenyuan," QingWu suddenly turned to him, grasping his hand tightly. Her voice was steady and sincere. "I am here to help you. Will you trust me?"

The warmth of her palm drove away the surrounding chill, penetrating deep into his heart. It wasn't the warmth of flesh but the heat of a blazing soul. The sensation was at once foreign and familiar.

Could he trust her? For a fleeting moment, he wavered. Trusting a spirit disguised in a human skin—it was a gamble with no assurance.

Before he could answer, Mu Ying's startled cry pierced the air. "I hear him! I hear my son's voice calling me!" Tears streamed down her face as she ran forward instinctively. "He's ahead! Calling for me to save him!"

Suddenly, a chain shot out from the fog, lashing toward her. A chilling voice reverberated through the mist. "A living soul dares trespass on the Yin-Yang Path? Prepare to die!"

A hand reached out, grabbing the chain mid-strike. With a resounding clang, a sword unsheathed, slicing through the chain in one swift motion. QingWu glanced at Xiao Chenyuan, her surprise evident. His stern demeanor, coupled with the overwhelming aura of a battlefield, was enough to awe even ghosts.

She hadn't expected his sword to cut through a soul-reaping chain.

A shrill scream erupted from the mist, laced with fury. "Insolent mortal! How dare you sever my soul-reaping chain!"

As the fog parted, a figure emerged—a ghastly man with greenish skin, bulging eyes, and a dark chain in hand. Two bound living souls trailed behind him, the chain's severed end dangling. His ghostly malice fixated on the trio.

Among the two captured souls, a small boy cried out, "Mother!"

"It's him! My son, my Yu Lang!" Mu Ying cried out, her voice trembling with joy and fear.

The green-robed ghost's eyes gleamed with malice. "Ah, so you're here to reclaim a soul. Such audacity! Damaging my tools and disrupting my duties—none of you will leave here alive!"

The moment QingWu laid eyes on the ghost, her expression turned icy, a realization crystallizing in her mind.

The Judge's Brush seethed. "How does Yu Lang's soul end up in this lowly spirit's hands? Using Xiao Chenyuan's Yang energy to bypass the Book of Life and Death, hiding the boy's soul until the mother could sense it? Only then would the book react, and ghost emissaries would station themselves at Yu Lang's mortal body, waiting to seize his soul!"

"This green-robed imp knows exactly where Yu Lang's living soul is!" QingWu's voice was sharp and cold. "Blind, are you? Can't you see this scum has seized not one but two living souls!"

"The laws of the Nether Codex are clear: Living souls cannot be captured. Violators lose their position and are cast into the volcanic pits of hell. Moreover," her tone turned icy, "who says this trash is a ghost emissary?"

The green-robed figure sneered, but his eyes darted nervously toward Xiao Chenyuan's radiant aura. Licking his lips, he thought, Such a feast!

Yet before he could act, an indescribable presence loomed, suffocating and divine, making every ghostly essence tremble. A voice, cold as ice, sliced through the fog.

"I didn't realize since when a lowly green fly dared impersonate a ghost emissary of the Underworld."