Before Senluo Hall in the Underworld, as the final notes of the BGM Astronomia faded away, the pitch-black coffin lid finally slid open.
"Ugh..."
Ancestor Minghe clutched the coffin board and climbed out, his face pale and his steps unsteady. That joyful funeral procession had clearly shaken him up badly.
Yet the moment he got to his feet, the pain vanished from Ancestor Minghe's face.
In its place was an honest smile with a hint of flattery.
He straightened his disheveled red robe, then bowed deeply to Houtu, his voice so sincere it gave people goosebumps.
"Ah, Fellow Daoist Houtu!"
"I saw your potential long ago. When we listened to the Dao at Zixiao Palace, I already thought you'd achieve great things!"
"Of the Twelve Ancestral Witches, you're the only one who's beautiful, kindhearted, and possessed of great compassion!"
"Now that I think about it, my judgment really was quite good!"
"This Underworld is built so well! It's wonderful!"
Houtu: "..."
Zhao Gongming: "..."
The two stared at Minghe's old face, now grinning like a chrysanthemum, and fell silent.
A moment ago, he'd been wailing that he'd rather die than listen. Now, just to get a position in the Asura Path, he didn't even care about his own dignity?
With skin that thick, it was a shame he hadn't sworn brotherhood with Di Jiang.
"Ahem."
Feeling a little awkward, Houtu changed the subject and glanced around.
Inside the Underworld, Guang Chengzi was doing the Shadow Stream dance, Duo Bao was swinging a whip, Cihang was transforming into a magical girl, and Lu Ya was meowing...
The place was orderly enough, but the whole scene... was far too hellish.
Houtu sighed and said with a worried look,
"Martial Nephew, this can't go on forever."
"Even though everyone's magic treasures are keeping