Book 1: Fengzhou Ghost Realm
• • • • •
In the primordial age, the Five Emperors manifested, dividing the world into two realms: Mortal and Immortal. Later, demonic energy proliferated, and defiled earth spread everywhere, forming the Underworld.
The master of the Underworld, whose wondrous name was Fengdu.
— 《Legends of the Three Realms • Underworld Scroll • Chapter One》
*
“…! Hmph, what nonsense, ‘wondrous name Fengdu’.” A withered hand slapped hard onto the poor-quality wooden table, causing a few drops of wine to slosh out of the cup and land on the open copy of 《Legends of the Three Realms》.
In the filthy dungeon, a few rays of light filtered in through cracks in the ceiling.
The old jailer leaned against the stained black wall and let out a loud burp.
“It’s a title, Emperor Fengdu. Not a common name at all…”
Across from him, a young guard, also tipsy, asked: “So Emperor Fengdu had no name?”
The old jailer paused, then shook his head: “It’s been too long, no one knows. All I know is that even the ancient immortals of the Immortal Realm dare not speak that name. When it was later written into books, who would dare to write it down?”
“That powerful?” The young guard’s mouth fell open. “Is that true or false?”
“Hmph.”
The old jailer took a gulp of wine from his bowl, then swallowed it with a cold laugh: “In Emperor Fengdu’s time, the Five-Directional Ghost Emperors and the Ten-Faced Yamas unified the fifteen provinces of the Underworld. He was an existence capable of overthrowing the Five Emperors who founded the Immortal Realm – If that old man were still alive, how could the Underworld be in such chaos now? This world would have long been ours.”
The young guard was momentarily tongue-tied, muttering: “If he was so powerful, why did he die tens of thousands of years ago?”
The old jailer seemed to have heard something terrifying, suddenly sobering up from his drunken stupor.
His face turned pale, and he staggered to his feet, looking out at the sky beyond the window.
“It’s almost dawn, Old Eight will be back soon. Go out to the prison and greet the new batch of prisoners.” The old jailer turned his head to look at a corner. “You, come here and clean up.”
“…”
Where his voice reached was a corner in front of the earthen wall.
With the lamp light behind her, a girl of fifteen or sixteen stood in the shadows.
Her small, frail figure wore a slightly oversized black burlap tunic, worn thin in many places, looking less like clothes and more like a tattered rag. A black hood obscured the girl’s face.
Her wrists and ankles, exposed outside the garment, were so emaciated they looked easily breakable, revealing a pale and sickly appearance.
Such a thin, fragile figure was moving heavy bricks in the corner.
Hearing the old jailer call, Shi Liu put down the stone and walked over.
She kept her head bowed, her steps making no sound, as light as a small spirit beast that loved the night.
Only her slender ankles were bound by a heavy iron chain, which clanked heavily as it dragged against the ground.
The young guard, Yao Yi, opened his bloodshot, wine-dulled eyes and quietly watched the girl approach.
The old, dirty burlap clothes could not conceal her inherent delicate beauty. The defiled earth of the Underworld could not possibly nurture a snow-white lamb like this.
A section of her fair wrist emerged from the burlap tunic, clearing the wine cups from the table. The defiled earth of the Underworld could not stain this pure whiteness, like the rumored snow of the mortal realm.
The Underworld had no snow, nor such pure, clean white.
Yao Yi licked his dry lips, unable to resist reaching out a hand.
“Still dawdling?” the Old Warden impatiently tapped his pipe. “Old Ba is about to bring people back. If no one comes out to activate the formation, aren’t you afraid he’ll beat you?”
Yao Yi remained still for two seconds before reluctantly standing up. He grumbled as he walked out, “Sometimes he brings back people who aren’t just mortal trash. We have to check the formation every single time. Doesn’t he find it troublesome?”
“Watch your mouth. He’s the prison captain, and you’re just an insignificant grunt.”
“…”
The sound of Yao Yi’s footsteps echoing down the narrow tunnel faded into the distance, and the Old Warden leaned against the wall, falling fast asleep.
Shi Liu wiped away the last water stain on the table, her pale, pointed chin lifting slightly. Her clear, dark pupils, hidden beneath her hood, gazed towards the end of the narrow tunnel.
The tunnel was very long, with only a palm-sized strip of light at its very end.
It was too small, flickering as if a mere gust of wind could extinguish it, as if it could vanish at any moment.
That was the only light leading out of this Ghost Prison.
– –
The Netherworld had fifteen prefectures.
The most desolate land in the far north was called Feng Prefecture.
Feng Prefecture was located in the far north, shrouded in miasma year-round. Plants struggled to grow, making it a dead land.
A thousand years ago, the miasma here suddenly dissipated overnight, allowing living things to grow. It was then that the Prefecture Lord of Feng Prefecture built the “Ghost Prison.”
The prisoners held in the “Ghost Prison” were all mortals who had never cultivated, captured from various places.
Every forty-nine days, they would take the heart blood of one person and offer it to the Prefecture Lord of Feng Prefecture for him to cultivate his evil secret arts.
In particular, sixteen-year-old boys and girls were the most suitable.
Over the past hundred years, the reputation of this prison, where people entered but never left, spread far and wide.
Thus, it was named the Feng Prefecture Ghost Domain.
What Shi Liu thought about day and night was escaping this prison.
She wanted to gaze at the sky outside the prison.
–
Shi Liu was a special existence within the Ghost Prison.
Three years ago, she wandered into the Netherworld and was subsequently sold into the Ghost Prison.
All new prisoners had to pass through a formation to ensure they had never cultivated, preventing any incidents.
But at that time, Shi Liu’s bone age was only twelve, which didn’t meet the “offering” requirement, so she was kept until now.
Because she was weak and harmless, Shi Liu had more freedom than other prisoners — she was assigned chores that the lazy jailers didn’t want to do.
For example, cleaning, cooking, and distributing gruel.
Or bandaging and treating illnesses.
“Once I’ve recovered from my injuries, I’ll definitely beat that brute Fu Yuan until he kneels and calls me grandpa — Ouch! Be a little gentler! You’re killing me!”
The youth Shou Hou sat blustering in the corner of the room, crying out in a hoarse voice, and reached out to push away the hooded girl who was bandaging him.
But before his hand made contact, he hesitated and stopped.
The girl, her head bowed, seemed oblivious, her hood plunging her face into shadow.
In the same cell, a prisoner in a burlap uniform stood up and laughed loudly, “Shou Hou, do you like her? Otherwise, why aren’t you showing off your usual bravado in front of her?”
“Rubbish… utter rubbish! I wouldn’t bother liking such an ugly person.”
Shou Hou’s face flushed red, and he glared angrily at the man.
After blurting out those words, he unconsciously glanced at the girl beside him — her hood was pulled low, and she still didn’t lift her head, her fingers, wrapped in cloth to stop the bleeding, moving gently and deftly.
It was as if she hadn't heard a word they said.
Sấu Hầu grew even more vexed, his face burning like a monkey's backside: “Ugly, listen closely. Don't flatter yourself, this old man could never like you, you—”
“Bang bang!” A heavy wooden club struck the cell door. “What are you two bickering about? Do you want to reincarnate early?”
Yao Yi stood before the cell door, his words venomous. Finally, his gaze fell upon the young woman with her head bowed.
“Shi Liu, follow me.”
“…..”
Shi Liu fastened the last piece of cloth. She stood up from the corner of the wall.
It had rained last night, and many puddles had collected in the damp dungeon. As she stood, she inadvertently glanced at one of them.
A cold, dim light refracted on the water's surface, reflecting the young woman's tilted face beneath her hood.
A long, hideous scar stretched across her face, which was originally exquisite and aloof, winding from her eyebrow down to the corner of her mouth.
Like an ugly crack on a snow-white jade wall, it made people startle and frown upon seeing it.
Therefore, she was called “the ugly one.”
Shi Liu had heard it too many times.
But she didn't feel bothered in the slightest.
Because this scar was the only reason she could live in Ghost Prison without being offered to the wandering demon bandits as their short-lived concubine.
What's more, even so, as she gradually shed her childish innocence and blossomed into a young woman, there were quite a few cold, snake-like gazes that scrutinized her.
As Shi Liu leaned out of the cell door, the scar was facing Yao Yi.
But perhaps his gaze wasn't directed there; he held the heavy wooden club in his hand, his expression grim as he walked towards the end of the dark prison corridor: “Hurry up, someone will die if you delay.”
Shi Liu unexpectedly pursed her lips and quickened her pace.
Following Yao Yi to the deepest covered courtyard in Ghost Prison, Shi Liu saw… a young man thrown onto the open ground?
If Yao Yi hadn't mentioned it beforehand, preparing Shi Liu mentally, she wouldn't have dared to casually assert that this half-dead, blood-soaked, and covered in gore person was actually alive.
He seemed to be wearing a white robe, its patterns indiscernible because his entire body was dyed red with fresh blood—so red it had turned black, just like a Mandala blooming by the Underworld Blood River, eerie and terrifying. It was unclear if all his blood had been drained.
The prison captain, Old Eight, and the old jailer stood to one side, observing coldly.
The old jailer was still slightly drunk; he frowned, clutching his pipe, and said: “Why bring someone like this back?”
“Something happened in the northwest of Feng Province. Everyone died, only he was left.” Old Eight replied, his eyes dark.
The old jailer's expression subtly changed: “What happened? How did it get to that point?”
“The Provincial Lord of Feng Province, is dead.”
“What!?”
“….”
Shi Liu had just approached the young man and hadn't even sat down yet, when she shivered slightly at the news, forcing herself not to turn her head.
But beneath her hood, her eyelashes trembled faintly.
Ghost Prison had been established single-handedly by the Provincial Lord of Feng Province, primarily for him to cultivate dark arts. Shi Liu knew a little about him.
The fifteen provinces of the Underworld were originally under the command of the Five-Directional Ghost Emperors and the Ten Yama Kings, each governing a province. Ten thousand years ago, for unknown reasons, the Fengdu Emperor suddenly fell, plunging the Underworld into great chaos.
More than half of the lords of the fifteen provinces under his command were killed or wounded.
Time erodes all, and with ten thousand years of conquest and tempering, the original lords of Minh Tuo have almost faded into obscurity.
Nevertheless, any current Chou Zhu has risen from a mountain of corpses and a sea of fire — especially the Chou Zhu of Feng Chou. It is said he inherited the evil arts of an ancient Tian Mo, his power unfathomable, perhaps making him the strongest among the current Chou Zhus.
Could such a terrifying demonic being have died during his prime?
Shi Liu's face was slightly pale. She lowered her head, holding her breath as she listened.
In the corner of the courtyard, the old jailer's mouth fell open, almost dropping his precious pipe: “What kind of cultivation did the Chou Zhu possess… Could it be that Yan Chou allied with Gan Chou?”
“No.” Old Ba seemed to recall something, his hawk-like eyes beneath his disheveled hair showing fear.
“The incident occurred at Youming Tianjian. The aura erupted in just a few breaths; we, who were several miles away, were still affected — if I hadn't taken precautions early, you wouldn't even have had the chance to collect my corpse.”
“To kill a Tian Mo in just a few breaths, even if the Chou Zhus of Yan Chou and Gan Chou joined forces, they couldn't do it. Are you sure the Chou Zhu is truly dead?”
“I've investigated. Youming Tianjian was leveled to flat ground, and the Chou Zhu's spirit and soul were utterly annihilated; he absolutely cannot be alive.”
The old jailer was astonished: “Utterly annihilated? How could that be?”
“If I'm not mistaken, a major figure has appeared in the Mortal Realm,” Old Ba said, narrowing his eyes. “Either the Taishang Zhanglao of the two great immortal sects, or the Family Head of the Shi Family acted personally.”
—
Squatting beside the blood-soaked youth on the ground, the young woman's fingers suddenly trembled as she pushed aside his blood-soaked robe.
Yao Yi noticed, lowering his head: “What's wrong?”
The young woman, sitting on the ground, was silent for a moment: “His injuries are too severe; he's about to die.”
“If he's dead, just toss him out,” Yao Yi frowned in disgust.
“I'll try one more time.”
Shi Liu picked up the herbal box beside her.
Although her startle earlier wasn't due to this, she wasn't lying either; the youth lying on the ground was truly on his last breath.
His meridians were severed, there was no trace of life left, and his body was ice-cold.
If not for the bloodstains on his clothes not yet fully dry, she would have believed it if someone said this was a corpse dug up from somewhere.
Despite knowing this, Shi Liu still began to apply hemostatic medicine to him.
She wanted to live the most, so naturally, she couldn't bear to stand by and watch an innocent life fade away.
“Still not dead? This kid's life force is truly tenacious.” Old Ba and the old jailer left the courtyard, glancing at the youth lying on the ground as they passed. “He's not from this batch. I picked him up outside Youming Tianjian. He was probably accidentally affected by the great battle while passing by, but he's much better than the ones I brought with me. I saw he still had a bit of breath, so I brought him back.”
The old jailer put his pipe back in his mouth, frowning as he said: “Picked him up? There won't be any trouble, will there?”
“What trouble could there be?” Yao Yi said carelessly. “He's already passed through the formation. He's just a cripple with no cultivation.
I think he's about to die anyway.”
Shi Liu knelt on the ground, wanting to remove the youth's robe to examine the wound on his chest.
However, the blood had made the fabric stick to the wound, making it difficult to distinguish. After she pulled the robe aside, a fresh stream of blood gushed from the wound.
Thoi Luu, who was closest, felt her eyes freeze for an instant.
In his bright red blood, faint yellow specks of light shimmered, as if an illusion.
"What's so interesting about a dying man?" Dieu Nghia, standing nearby, sneered. "If he can't be saved, just throw him into Tram Thi Uyen. The carrion dogs there are starving these days."
Before Dieu Nghia could see, Thoi Luu hastily pulled the boy's robes closed to cover the wound.
"He can still be saved," Thoi Luu said, lowering her head and using her own hood to cover the boy's upper body.
Dieu Nghia narrowed his eyes, intending to move closer.
"Dieu Nghia, Lao Bat told you to get over there!" The old jailer turned around, tapping his pipe against a bluestone slab, too lazy to even lift his heavy eyelids. "Stop dragging your feet, get moving."
"Tsk..."
Dieu Nghia grumbled discontentedly, then turned and left.
The courtyard fell into complete silence, save for the rustling wind blowing through the high mountains and deep ravines, like a desolate, weeping sound.
Thoi Luu remained silent for a long time, and only after confirming there were no footsteps outside did she sit up straight.
"Are you awake?" The girl glanced at the blood-soaked boy lying on the ground, his face indistinguishable, and asked in the softest possible voice.
"......"
"Don't be afraid, they're gone."
"......"
After her final words, Thoi Luu silently watched the boy lying on the ground.
The lines of his eyes were long and elegant, thick, curved lashes falling over his cold, pale skin. After his severe injuries, he was as peaceful as if in eternal slumber.
Thoi Luu guessed that hidden beneath those lashes were very beautiful eyes.
Her guess was correct.
For in the very next second, those eyes opened.
They were even more brilliant than the most exquisite crystal gem Thoi Luu had ever seen in the mortal realm, like the magnificent vista of a celestial lake on a snowy mountain in the northernmost reaches of the human world.
The lake's depths shimmered, as if sunlight was dancing within.
But those crystal-like eyes were also very cold.
Cold, blood-stained fingers suddenly seized her slender neck, causing her hood to fall and her breath to suddenly catch.
Thoi Luu was choked and pressed against the jagged stone wall.
The fingers tightened, intent on strangling her to death. Death was like a thin, cold blade, slowly and indifferently slicing into her delicate neck.
The boy's figure leaned down, obscuring the light.
He gazed at her with arrogant coldness, his eyes, black and clear as crystal yet utterly frigid, seeming to proclaim —
In the next second, he would kill her.