In Hell
The Little Highness had gotten her hands on a fun treasure and was preparing to demonstrate it personally by grabbing various evil ghosts. Just like now, she was holding yet another treasure she had stolen from who-knows-where and amusing herself by toying with the ghosts.
One after another, evil ghosts went “whoosh” and flew out of Hell, “whoosh” and ascended to the Ninth Heaven.
This scene was particularly spectacular and utterly delightful!
Behind her, the hem of a deep, heavy robe swept across the empty, silent ground, steady and imposing as a voice demanded, “Yuan’er, what are you doing?”
Xiao Miao Yuan immediately tucked away the Immortal Artifact in her arms, turned to him, and giggled foolishly, “Father Lord, they’re so much fun.”
The ghosts: “…”
His gaze, hollow as if seeing nothing, fell upon her. His entire being radiated majesty and oppressive authority as he spoke sternly, “What have you taken? Let me see.”
The Little Dumpling stiffened, her small face pitiful as she said, “I haven’t taken anything.”
She shifted her feet slightly, preparing to run.
Yan Yi asked no more. His slender fingers lifted lightly, and instantly, an invisible Spell Power emanated from his palm, flying toward her and sweeping out a Treasure Artifact.
“Ding-ling—” The Immortal Artifact landed in his hand, emitting faint, crisp sounds.
The Little Dumpling grew anxious, quickly reaching out to snatch it back. “Father Lord, that’s mine! I haven’t finished playing with it yet!”
Yan Yi was cold. “Where did it come from?”
“I…”
“Guards!”
“G-Ghost Servant here—” An evil ghost trembled as it knelt down. It was over. He was done for.
“Where did the Little Highness go today?”
“This…”
Yan Yi raised his hand. His transformed palm resembled a magnified, sinister shadow, tightly gripping the evil ghost’s neck and lifting it up. He spoke low and coldly, “Speak!”
The evil ghost trembled in fear. “Y-yes… she went to the Eighteenth Layer of Hell.”
“Father Lord?!”
“Who gave it to her?”
“A… an Immortal Lord who was punished and sent down.”
“You let her go in alone?”
“Ghost Servant…”
“Damned!”
“Snap—” His palm suddenly tightened, and the evil ghost’s Soul rapidly disintegrated, scattering in all directions.
Instantly, all the Ghost Servants vanished into the darkness, disappearing without a trace.
To be precise, they dared not show themselves again.
The Little Dumpling fumed, glaring at him with her round purple eyes. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore, Yan Yi.”
Such insolence, daring to address him by his name directly.
Yan Yi’s face turned cold as he snapped, “Get back to the palace. Don’t show yourself here.”
“Why should I?!”
Yan Yi offered no explanation. With a sweep of his wide black robe, he directly used Formation Art to transport her back to the palace bedchamber.
In the blink of an eye
A white, misty Shape Transformation materialized into the forms of several Immortal Lords standing before him. Their expressions were grave, yet their attitudes were exceptionally respectful as they said, “King Yama’s Palace, just now on the Ninth Heaven, several evil ghosts from Hell appeared…”
“His Highness sent us down to investigate and clarify what exactly happened?”
Yan Yi’s brows were cold, his complexion as pale and cool as jade. He replied icily, “It’s nothing. Just a few unruly little ghosts trying to sneak out of prison, that’s all. This palace has already punished them. Please convey to Prince Yuheng on my behalf that no major incident has occurred.”
Several Immortal Lords frowned and said, “Then may the King of Hell please manage the evil ghosts in your own Hell properly. The Ninth Heaven is not a place that just any cultivator can enter!”
“Naturally. Farewell.” Yan Yi transformed and vanished from the underworld.
Seeing this,
the expressions of the Immortal Lords turned quite unpleasant. They muttered disdainfully, “The King of Hell truly is the first person since ancient times who dares to slight Prince Yuheng’s dignity.”
“Hah, who else in this vast Cultivation Realm but the King of Hell could rival our Prince?”
“Enough talk, let’s return quickly. There are still matters concerning the Demon Realm to attend to.”
“Indeed, let’s go.”
…
Inside the palace,
gazing at the tightly shut black palace door and the heavily concealed wallpaper and paintings, Yan Yi’s expression turned cold. He said nothing.
Lifting his foot, an intangible black light enveloped him, and he passed directly through the door.
In the palace bedchamber, on the soft, plush bed, a brocade quilt was raised into a small, tent-like mound.
Yan Yi walked over, his voice lowering as he asked, “Was it the magical instrument given to you by that punished Immortal Lord that taught you to act this way?”
Beneath the quilt, there was no response.
Yan Yi’s voice grew colder, “Is it that others’ treasures are more fun, or their words more trustworthy, that you would believe them so readily?”
Still, there was no reply from under the quilt.
Yan Yi’s frown deepened. With a wave of his hand, he lifted the quilt from a distance, his tone icy and stern, “Answer me!”
Little Dumpling was frightened by his voice, her eyes reddening with a hint of grievance. She turned and sat up on the bed, her long hair cascading over her shoulders and chest, revealing only her snow-white, aggrieved, and stubborn little face as she protested, “What does Father Lord want me to say? I already told you, that treasure was borrowed for fun! Why won’t you ever give me any treasures?”
“Do you think it’s an ordinary treasure that you can just borrow and play with?”
“Why not?!” Little Dumpling stubbornly looked up at him.
“Have I not told you that whatever you want, I will give it to you? Who told you to take things from others?”
“What do you mean, ‘take’?!” Little Dumpling angrily got off the bed. She raised her small hand, transformed a stone slab, and stood on tiptoe to argue with him at eye level, “That was given to me by that Immortal Lord!! I didn’t take it!”
“Why would he give it to you?”
Little Dumpling blurted out, “Because I promised him I’d make his life in Hell a little better, of course.”
“Hah—” Yan Yi let out a light scoff.
Little Dumpling quickly lowered her head, feeling regretful. Ah! How could she have spoken her mind like that? Really.
She stammered in rebuttal, “So… so what? We… we’re just exchanging equally, it’s… it’s mutual courtesy.”
“Who taught you these things?” Yan Yi’s expression darkened, like the gloomy weather outside, oppressive and intimidating.
Little Dumpling, still unaware of the trouble, looked up and retorted, “What’s wrong with what Madam Meng taught me?”
“Have less contact with her from now on.”
“Why?” Little Dumpling was displeased.
“Because with what she’s teaching you now, I could punish her a hundred, a thousand times over.”
“No!!” Little Dumpling immediately spread her thin, short little arms, blocking his way, her words solemn, “You must not punish Madam Meng. She still has to tell me many… many, many folk stories.”
Yan Yi’s expression darkened, his lowered right hand beginning to shape transformation.
“Father Lord!!” By the time Xiao Miao Yuan widened her eyes to see, her entire petite little body was enveloped by a warm current and sent back onto the large bed.
In just a moment
A solid barrier descended, completely isolating her from the outside world.
“Stay safely inside the hall. I’m going down for a while.”
“I don’t want to!! I want to go out too!”
“…”
“Father Lord?!”
“…”
“Fa—ther Lord?!”
“…”
“Bang—” She raised her hand to shape transformation, striking directly at the barrier.
“Bang bang bang—”
“Bang bang bang—”
The barrier remained intact, without the slightest crack opening.
Dissatisfied, she lowered her little head, letting the stunning purple hair cascade down her back, grumbling softly.
With just this little bit of cultivation level, it probably couldn’t even compare to this barrier, let alone break through it?
…
Tenth Layer of Hell
The evil ghosts lowered their voices in greeting, saying: “We have seen King Yama’s Palace—”
“Pay respects to King Yama’s Palace.”
“Leave. I wish to speak with him alone.”
“Yes—” The evil ghosts bowed and retreated, the prison cell door closing instantly.
“King Yama’s Palace?”
The Immortal Lord imprisoned by the Immortal Lock, who had fallen into the Demon Path, looked up. Suddenly, he curled his lips into a wanton smile, “What, does King Yama’s Palace also wish to experience life in the Tenth Layer of Hell?”
Yan Yi’s face was cold and stern. He raised his hand and lightly waved his wide black robe toward him. Instantly, a magical instrument treasure resembling a bell chain materialized in mid-air before him. “Is this yours?”
“Indeed, but… wasn’t it in Little Highness’s hands? What, she doesn’t want it anymore?”
“She, is this hall’s person!” Those empty, ink-black pupils bore down with formidable, icy pressure. “Do you understand?”
“I understand. What exactly does King Yama’s Palace wish to say?”
Isn’t that little dumpling just his daughter? Born millions of years ago with that cultivated Mandala Flower Spirit—who within the Myriad Heavens, inside and outside the Three Realms, doesn’t know this?
It caused quite a stir back then, all for that little daughter who was nearly deathly ill.
“Knowing this, you still gave her such a magical instrument. Do you wish to use this hall’s hand to confront Yu Heng?”
Bai Yan’s body stiffened. He lifted his head slightly and laughed: “What does King Yama’s Palace mean by this? It’s merely a treasure for amusing oneself after release from prison, not as serious as Your Highness suggests.”
“Not serious? It indeed allows a cultivator to leave Hell, but it can also enable a cultivator to ascend to the Ninth Heaven. This hall believes you understand its uses even better than I do, don’t you?”
Bai Yan chuckled softly, lowered his head, and did not reply.
“Yuan’er is inexperienced in handling matters, too fond of play. What she promised you, this hall will fulfill on her behalf.”
“As for this treasure—” Yan Yi’s eyes gleamed with cold, dark danger. His right hand shaped transformation and condensed, like a phantom, grasping the treasure artifact from a distance.
Using only a fraction of his strength, with a squeeze of formation art, it immediately shattered, turning into dust and powder, vanishing without a trace in the wind.
“This hall personally disposes of it for you!”
Bai Yan’s pupils contracted, his gaze toward him tinged with gravity.
Yan Yi withdrew his hand, invisibly flicked his sleeve, turned, and coldly strode away.
Leaving only these words: “No need to imprison him. As long as he does not leave the Tenth Layer of Hell, let him do as he pleases.”
“Yes—”