Chapter 1635: Ghost City

Upon hearing that voice, Pingdeng Wang trembled violently, nearly dropping to his knees in submission.

It was the words of Ming Di, a single question carrying the full weight of imperial authority. Even as one of the Ten Kings of Yanluo, he dared not defy it.

Since Ming Di had been roused and personally issued the imperial decree, Pingdeng Wang had no choice but to comply. He immediately released Ye Chen and Zhao Yun.

With a wave of his massive hand, he sent the two flying off in a certain direction.

The pair soared through the void of Mingjie, heading toward the largest city in the underworld, a sight that was extraordinarily grand.

Below, whether it was the underworld generals, judges, or lesser ghosts, all wore expressions of astonishment. "The Yanluo King didn't kill them."

"Judging by the direction they're flying, it must be toward Ghost City."

"Such grave offenses, and Pingdeng Wang Yanluo just pardons them outright?"

"Ming Di has spoken—do you think I'd dare say no?" Listening to the chatter from below, Pingdeng Wang cursed inwardly, his enormous face covered in twitching black lines.

Still, he was baffled. For two wicked spirits suppressed in hell, why would it alarm Ming Di? There had to be more to this.

As one of the Ten Kings of Yanluo, with his sharp mind, Pingdeng Wang could sense something was off: those two had secrets.

Meanwhile, Ye Chen and Zhao Yun had landed, sprawled out in a perfect spread-eagle on the ground, each making intimate contact with the surface.

Pingdeng Wang wasn't worried about them dying from the fall. With their yuan shen already formed, they could be thrown from any height and still survive.

Ouch! With groans and grimaces, Zhao Yun and Ye Chen climbed to their feet—one clutching his lower back, the other rubbing his head. They hadn't died, but the impact left them dizzy and disoriented.

"Stay put in Ghost City and don't cause any more trouble." From the misty heights above, Pingdeng Wang's fierce voice echoed down.

At those words, the two who had been reeling suddenly perked up.

Stay put? That means we're not being blamed? We've been pardoned? We're in the clear?

The two exchanged glances, then grinned shamelessly.

They were thrilled—truly over the moon. Not only had they formed their yuan shen, escaped from hell, and avoided any punishment from the Yanluo King.

With three pieces of good news in a row, their smiles were nothing but pure joy.

Speaking of Ghost City, they both turned to look in that direction.

Not far away stood a massive, imposing, and chilling city, with ghost-headed soldiers stationed on both sides.

The city gate was particularly frightening, shaped like the gaping mouth of a huge ghost head—as if entering meant stepping into the belly of a monster.

"Let's go check it out." Ye Chen, still holding his back, started walking.

"You folks here sure have an interesting setup." Zhao Yun, rubbing his head, limped along, clearly still sore from the fall.

The two chatted and laughed as they approached. Before entering, the ghost-headed soldiers at the gate gave them odd looks.

They had witnessed the earlier commotion clearly.

Disturbing hell, stealing soul power, and yet the Yanluo King hadn't punished them.

It was truly baffling—enough to leave ghosts scratching their heads in confusion.

And these two had plummeted from such a height and were still hopping around lively. If it were them, they'd have been done for.

Ye Chen and Zhao Yun ignored the soldiers and stepped into Ghost City.

What met their eyes were rows of buildings, with roads paved in uneven qingshiban, pocked with holes and covered in moss.

The streets were bustling, filled with people haggling at stalls on both sides, the calls of vendors ringing out like in a thriving ancient city.

Unlike the outside world's ancient cities, this one was entirely dim, as if perpetually in twilight. Many buildings had large red lanterns hanging out front, casting a faint, gloomy light that didn't brighten much.

The two stared in amazement, unaware that Mingjie had such a marketplace.

Instinctively, they started walking, taking in the sights as they went.

On the streets were figures like ox-headed and horse-faced guards, lesser ghost soldiers, and many others in ancient attire.

At the stalls along the sides, the items for sale were bizarre: human skulls, prayer beads, clusters of dark herbs, and all sorts of jars and bottles—everything imaginable.

As they browsed, the street pedestrians and stall owners eyed them back, their gazes anything but normal.

"All of them have yuan shen—local residents?" Zhao Yun raised an eyebrow.

"Probably." Ye Chen looked around, finding it all quite novel.

This underworld city was even more lively than the marketplaces in the yang world. It had everything the yang world did, and more.

The only thing that made Ye Chen uncomfortable was the oppressive darkness, like being shrouded in a black veil.

"For buying stuff here, do you need money?" Zhao Yun nudged Ye Chen. "What about paper money burned by family—does that work here?"

"No idea." Ye Chen scratched his head, pondering the same thing. If it did, that would be something new.

As they spoke, the two approached a stall.

The stall owner was a bearded old man, head down, lost in thought, his hair covering half his face.

"Good stuff." The pair started rifling through the items on the stall—all sorts of underworld artifacts, wondering if they could be used in the yang world.

"Do you have ming shi? If not, scram." The old man glanced at them and spoke up.

"What's ming shi?" The two turned to him in unison.

The old man said nothing, just pulled a kitchen knife from his robe.

"Hey, hey, hey? What's going on—why the knife?" Ye Chen and Zhao Yun spun around and bolted, seeing he meant business.

"Get lost." The old man blew his beard and glared, his face darkening with anger.

"The people here all have such bad tempers!" Zhao Yun glanced back as they fled, clicking his tongue and grimacing.

"Our folk are just rough—fists fly at the drop of a hat." Ye Chen rubbed his nose, feeling truly awkward.

"That old man's ming shi must be some kind of currency."

"Let's grab a couple from someone and check it out. I've never seen it before."

"I've spotted Meng Po." As they talked, a voice came from nearby, making Ye Chen's ears perk up.

There, an old woman hobbled along with a cane, shaky and stooped, with a cold demeanor.

Wasn't she the Meng Po from the Naihe Bridge?

Ye Chen dashed over and planted himself in front of her, nearly colliding with the person walking steadily ahead.

Meng Po looked up, and upon seeing Ye Chen, her mouth twitched fiercely.

"Meng Po, you remember me, right?" Ye Chen chuckled nervously, rubbing his hands, his smile wide and toothy.

His grin only made Meng Po's face darken completely, as if she were about to curse.

"The recipe for your Meng Po Soup—could you give me a copy?" Ye Chen smiled without a shred of shame, still fixated on the soup.

"No." Meng Po snapped, turning to leave.

"Come on! You're the god of Naihe Bridge—how could you not have the recipe?"

"I'm no longer the god of Naihe Bridge, and I don't have the Meng Po Soup anymore."

"You're not the god anymore?" Ye Chen paused, eyeing her suspiciously. "Did you get demoted?"

Meng Po took a deep breath, resisting the urge to scold him—she wanted to fight instead.

How dare you ask that? If it weren't for you, that wretch who drank over a hundred bowls of my Meng Po Soup and disrupted the cycle of reincarnation, would I have lost my position? You're the one who ruined me.

And now you want the recipe for Meng Po Soup? Why don't you just drop dead?

Seeing the fire in Meng Po's eyes, Ye Chen figured out what was going on. He gave an awkward laugh—it was indeed connected to him.

Meng Po ignored him and hobbled away with her cane.

Ye Chen coughed awkwardly. He'd been thinking of asking her for some ming shi, but now he didn't dare—count yourself lucky she didn't hit you.

"Come on, come on, look at that beauty over there." Zhao Yun popped up out of nowhere, dragging Ye Chen along toward another spot.

Soon, they stopped in front of a wall.

On the wall was a portrait of a woman in white robes and white hair, her face ethereally beautiful, like a exiled immortal.

"Just tell me, isn't she gorgeous?" Zhao Yun grinned.

Ye Chen didn't respond. Instead, he stared fixedly at the portrait, his body trembling uncontrollably.

Wasn't she Chu Ling? Identical to her from their past life.

He didn't need to see the real person to know—it was his Ling'er. She was here too, just like him, in Mingjie.

In an instant, his eyes filled with hot tears, streaming down his face. The mighty emperor of Great Chu was sobbing uncontrollably.

Zhao Yun was stunned. How did looking at a beauty make you cry?

She was beautiful, sure, but did you have to get this emotional? Is your universe that short on stunning women?

Not just him—the surrounding little ghosts watching were equally baffled, wondering why Ye Chen was crying and so heartbroken.

"Fellow ghost friends, do any of you know who the woman in this portrait is?" Ye Chen wiped away his tears and looked around hopefully.

"The new god of Naihe Bridge—everyone in Mingjie knows that."