Ancient Ruins

By the time they reached the golden pillar of light, the strange phenomenon between heaven and earth had gradually faded. That was hardly surprising; it was only a phenomenon, not the sun. It could not possibly shine for ten days or half a month.

Ning Chen stared at the huge crack in the ground, his brow furrowing again and again. He truly had no interest in going down.

He had come to hunt for treasure, not seek death. Such an enormous fissure—even if there was treasure below, he might go down alive and never return.

Ning Chen wanted to leave, but Little White Horse clamped its teeth around his sleeve and refused to let go.

"You're a horse. Why are you so damn curious?"

Ning Chen frowned and scolded it. This fellow was becoming more and more humanlike, but what use was that? It was a horse, for heaven's sake.

Yet no matter how Ning Chen berated it, Little White Horse would not release him. It even began dragging Ning Chen bit by bit toward the crack.

Ever seen someone bully a cripple? Ning Chen had seen plenty, but this was the first time he had seen a horse bully a cripple!

"You really want to go?"

A surge of anger rose in Ning Chen's chest as he asked impatiently.

"Snort."

Little White Horse snorted from its throat, making its stance clear.

"Then let's go."

Ning Chen agreed. If even a horse was not afraid, what was there for him to fear?

The fissure was steep and looked bottomless. Ning Chen drew Ink Sword and, with a crunch, drove it into the earth hardened by winter frost. He then untied the reins from Little White Horse's head and fastened them around the wheelchair by way of its waist and belly.

Then Ning Chen, seated in his wheelchair, and Little White Horse calmly jumped into the fissure together.

What kind of person was the most terrifying in the world?

Not the brash ones, not the stubborn fools, but those who did not care whether they lived or died!

Ning Chen and Little White Horse had clearly surpassed brashness and foolishness alike. They had ascended straight into the realm of the fearless dead.

After jumping into the fissure, Ning Chen held Ink Sword ready. Once they had descended about a zhang, he suddenly thrust Ink Sword into the frozen earth along the fissure wall.

Clatter!

Ink Sword carved a half-foot-long fan-shaped groove before finally stabilizing them. Dust flew everywhere, scattering in all directions.

Below him, the little horse dangled beneath the wheelchair like a swinging pendulum, the reins cutting bloody marks into its body.

"You should lose some weight."

Ning Chen said irritably. To think he had actually joined this beast in such nonsense. He must have had water in his brain from having too much free time.

Little White Horse was suffering terribly. The reins were cinched around its waist and belly, yet it stubbornly refused to cry out in pain. In that respect, it resembled a certain person—when its temper flared, it was more stubborn than a donkey.

Ning Chen pulled out Ink Sword, and his body dropped sharply again. Then a Woodcutter's Blade stabbed into the frozen soil.

This time, Ning Chen had miscalculated. The spot the old eunuch had bent earlier twisted once more, and the Woodcutter's Blade curved into a bizarre arc, like a fried twist that had been blown apart.

Then man and horse failed to halt their fall and continued plunging downward.

"Cheap goods really are no good."

Ning Chen tossed away the Woodcutter's Blade and complained about the Academy. Then Ink Sword took over once more.

Thus, after who knew how much struggling, man and horse finally reached the bottom of the fissure. Ning Chen was covered head to toe in mud, while much of Little White Horse's coat had been rubbed away by the reins.

A phoenix stripped of its feathers was no match for a chicken; a white horse that had shed its coat was no better than a donkey. The Little White Horse that had looked dashing and spirited moments ago now resembled something freshly boiled and plucked.

"Why exactly did we come down here?"

In the pitch-black fissure, Ning Chen and Little White Horse stared wide-eyed at one another. Ning Chen was in an exceedingly foul mood.

"Snort."

Little White Horse answered indignantly and turned to leave, only to slam headfirst into the stone wall. Its horse mouth stretched wide in pain.

"Serves you right."

Ning Chen took out a firestarter, blew it alight, and followed its glow. Ignoring Little White Horse, he headed alone down the only path ahead.

The road was long—very long, endlessly long. Ning Chen grew irritated and weary from walking, and his attitude toward Little White Horse worsened accordingly.

Little White Horse did not dare resist too openly. Every now and then, it snorted to show its displeasure, only to be suppressed beneath an even fiercer storm of abuse.

About half an hour later, just as the firestarter was about to die out, Ning Chen finally spotted a glimmer of light ahead.

Man and horse grew excited and quickened their pace. Reaching the light, Ning Chen raised Ink Sword and cleaved open the hidden space blocked by rock and earth.

With a bang, the rock and soil collapsed. The sight before them instantly stunned two pairs of wide eyes.

The scene ahead was beyond description. It twisted through nine bends and eighteen turns, like the meridians inside a human body. Corridors lay everywhere, while the blood-red soil was entirely unlike the stone and earth from before. It looked gloomy and sinister, even terrifying.

"We didn't end up in hell, did we?"

Ning Chen looked at the dark crimson world ahead, then turned his head and asked with difficulty.

"Snort."

Little White Horse responded. It did not understand, but the expression on its horse face showed that it, too, was deeply shocked.

"Keep going."

Ning Chen gritted his teeth. They had already come this far, so what the hell was there to fear? When a man died, his bird faced the sky; if he did not die, he would live ten thousand years.

There were many paths ahead. Ning Chen did not bother thinking and directly chose the biggest, widest, brightest one. Since he had no idea what lay ahead anyway, it made no difference to him which route he chose.

Little White Horse had even less to say. Whichever path Ning Chen took, it followed.

Two quarters of an hour later, man and horse returned once again.

Because the path ahead was a dead end. There was nothing there...

"Which one should we choose? You tell me."

Ning Chen stared at the remaining paths, gritting his teeth hard enough to crack them.

Little White Horse hesitated. It paced before every path for a while before finally choosing the smallest, narrowest, darkest route.

"You're sure?"

Ning Chen asked unwillingly.

"Snort."

Little White Horse answered.

"I'll listen to you this once."

Ning Chen steeled himself and turned his wheelchair toward the small corridor slanting ahead.

A quarter of an hour later, man and horse returned once again...

Ning Chen's face darkened, and he wanted nothing more than to roast Little White Horse right where it stood.

Seven paths remained. Ning Chen had no idea how to choose. He glanced at Ink Sword in his hand, stood it upright on the ground, and then Ink Sword fell over.

"This one."

Ning Chen pointed in the direction indicated by Ink Sword's hilt and made his decision without hesitation.

Beside him, Little White Horse gave a soft snort, expressing its dissatisfaction with Ning Chen's utterly casual attitude.

"If you've got the guts, don't follow me."

Ning Chen shot Little White Horse a sidelong, contemptuous glance.

Little White Horse fell silent and obediently followed after him.

The facts proved that Ning Chen's casual choice had been correct. After walking for nearly another half hour, the scenery before them changed once more.

A river—a very wide river. Its water was dark yellow, bubbles rising from its surface, and a faint fishy stench drifted through the air.

Ning Chen narrowed his eyes. He recalled a river from a legend in his previous life, one that sounded remarkably similar.

Legend said that in the Netherworld, there was a river lying before the Underworld Netherworld, called Weak Water.

Three thousand spans of Weak Water—none but the dead could cross.

"We've run into trouble."

Ning Chen casually plucked out a strand of hair and tossed it into the water. The hair drifted down slowly, sinking without stirring even the slightest ripple.

At this sight, Little White Horse was clearly startled. Its hooves unconsciously retreated two steps, moving far away from Weak Water.

Ning Chen scoffed at this. He believed the river could certainly be crossed; he simply had not yet figured out how.

Legend said that a bottomless wooden boat drifted upon Weak Water, the only thing capable of crossing it. He just did not know whether the legend was true.

Many legends from his previous life had already become reality in this world. Ox-Head and Horse-Face, Black and White Impermanence—even something like Weak Water had appeared. Ning Chen believed that even if there really was a bottomless boat, it would not be anything strange.

Ning Chen wheeled himself along the riverbank. Suddenly, his body froze. He had seen another thing from legend.

Yellow Springs Flower.

A miraculous flower said to grow at the bottom of Weak Water. After consuming it, one could live forever without dying. Yet after taking the flower, the body would gradually rot away, becoming neither dead nor alive. Thus, Yellow Springs Flower was also a poisonous flower.

Ning Chen stared at it for a long time but did not dare pick it. Within this Weak Water, no one could guarantee their own survival. He was not afraid of death, but neither did he want to court it.

"Snort."

Just then, Little White Horse came to Ning Chen's side and snorted. Then it bit Ning Chen's clothes and had him look toward a pile of rubbish roughly ten zhang from the riverbank.

Ning Chen narrowed his eyes, turned his wheelchair, and headed toward the rubbish pile.

It was called a rubbish pile because it contained bones, broken timber, rotten clothes, and more. Among it all was a battered, tattered boat.

More importantly, the boat had no bottom.

Ning Chen silently pulled out the boat, then dragged it bit by bit into Weak Water.

The next moment, Ning Chen fell even more silent.

The boat actually floated!

This had gone beyond his understanding. As someone from a world of Godless Theory, he found it truly difficult to believe the reality before his eyes.

Ning Chen silently took several pieces of broken wood from the rubbish pile and set them across the broken boat as places to stand. Then he led Little White Horse aboard.

Since he did not know why, then he would simply continue onward and see what exactly lay beyond Weak Water.

Ning Chen used a piece of broken wood as an oar and slowly paddled toward the opposite bank. Little White Horse stood on the boat, its body trembling violently, looking terrified.

Ning Chen frowned and scolded, "What are you afraid of? It's not like I'm making you jump in."

Little White Horse whimpered softly and improved somewhat. Its body stopped shaking, but its four hooves still trembled. Clearly, it remained afraid.

Ning Chen ignored it and continued rowing while quietly watching the opposite shore for danger.

By this point, things like demon spirits, ghosts, and specters should be appearing soon enough.

He did not believe a place this bizarre could possibly be free of danger.

There was no use counting on Little White Horse. It would already be doing well if it did not frighten itself into jumping overboard.

The result proved Ning Chen had overthought it. There were no demon spirits, no ghosts or specters, and not even a skeleton appeared.

Still, Weak Water was far wider than he had imagined. They spent a full quarter of an hour drifting in the broken boat before slowly reaching the opposite bank.

The broken boat might still prove useful, so after coming ashore, Ning Chen dragged it onto the bank as well, lest Weak Water carry it away.

Little White Horse stood at the shore, no longer trembling. Its horse eyes stared fixedly ahead.

Ning Chen also sensed that something was wrong with the atmosphere ahead. It felt as though something were watching them.

"Go."

Ning Chen steadied his mind, then moved forward.

Whether this was the Underworld Netherworld or not, they had already come this far. Dead or alive, they had to go in and take a look.

Little White Horse followed as well. Its hooves were clearly much heavier with every step.

Half a quarter of an hour later, Ning Chen's hand stopped turning the wheelchair. Looking at the great gate before him and the four large characters carved upon it, his eyes narrowed further.

"Underworld Netherworld."

The four characters danced like dragons and flew like phoenixes. They were not difficult to recognize, their strokes piercing to the bone and powerful beyond measure. They even carried an indescribable demonic allure that made it impossible to look away after one glance.

Ning Chen found it difficult to put his feelings into words. Anyone in his position would likely feel the same. If this was not some prank by the Eternal Night Divine Cult, then it was truly shocking.

If the Underworld existed, then where were the King of Hell and Ksitigarbha?

If the Netherworld was real, then where was the Nether King?

Ning Chen slowly pushed open the gate before him. He wanted to see exactly what kind of world lay beyond this Underworld Netherworld!