Not only did Yan Chili not smile, but he also lowered his head and touched his heart. Ghosts have no hearts, only obsessions and inner demons.

He had lived another life, and the person before him was his obsession.

Yan Chili fell into his memories.

Once, he had been a cold-blooded, ruthless demon lord who slaughtered cultivators without mercy. His father had thrown him into the Sea-Making Abyss Tower. The Demon Realm revered only the strong.

The Demon Lord, who couldn’t even control his own lower half, had no interest in teaching his children. Instead, he tossed over a hundred of them into the Demon Tower, forcing them to kill one another.

The strongest one to crawl out from the eighteenth floor would be named Crown Prince.

Ironically, Jiyuan’s hundred-plus children showed him no filial piety; they craved only power.

As a madman, Yan Chilí had struggled in hell for a thousand years, refining his brothers and sisters one by one. When he finally crawled out, he gazed at the pure, azure sky above the Demon Realm, breathed in the freedom, and smiled coldly.

He had won.

A lone youth happened to be passing by, cradling a bird in his arms. In a voice dripping with tenderness, he murmured, “This older brother is so pitiful.”

The youth’s eyes were clearer than the sky above, curving into crescents that radiated warmth and kindness.

The Eternal Frozen Wasteland was covered in snow year-round. The white glare reflected off the youth’s figure, bestowing upon him an ethereal, sacred aura as if he did not belong to the blood-stained Demon Realm, but to a vast, distant sky.

At that time, Yan Chilí did not know that this was Ye Qing, the only son Pei Xuan held dear in his palms.

He was weak and fragile, yet no one in the Demon Realm dared to offend him.

Nor did he know how many beautiful people Ye Qing had pitied with that same line: “This older brother is so pitiful.”

At the time, he had scoffed in contempt.

Until he was defeated by Pei Xuan, chained to the Demon-Slaying Platform like a ghost on the verge of dissipating, his breath faint and his face deathly pale. Twelve iron chains bound his entire body.

A sword also pierced through his shoulder blades, sealing his cultivation.

Pei Xuan’s ruthlessness was absolute. Yan Chilí viewed this as a humiliation, yet he felt no hatred.

The victor takes all; the defeated are always this miserable.

Had the roles been reversed, he would have been even more merciless to Pei Xuan.

“Kill him,” Pei Xuan commanded.

The victor pronounced judgment upon the vanquished.

Yan Chilí thought he was about to meet his end, hoping to return in his next life as a free and wild demon. Just then, the young man stepped forward.

“Father,” he said, “I feel sorry for this older brother. Please don’t kill him, alright?”

Pei Xuan was a Fallen Immortal. Even in the Demon Realm, he kept his black hair and blue robes, as solitary and noble as ice-covered mountains. He stood aloof, refusing to mingle with ordinary demons.

If not for the blood-red killing intent radiating from him, he looked less like the Lord who had unified the Demon Realm and more like a beautiful Immortal Lord.

But to Yan Chilí’s surprise, the young man, seated on the Lord of the Demon Realm’s throne, spoke a single, coaxing word. Pei Xuan’s killing intent vanished without a trace, and Yan Chilí’s fate was sealed.

The sandstorms in the Demon Realm were fierce, enough to tear through the delicate skin of countless cultivators. Yet the young man approached him with a smile on his lips, his eyes seeming to hold the entire starry sky, their gaze incredibly pure.

The young man commanded a little ghost to treat his injuries, change his clothes, and tuck him in, visiting him nearly every day.

This was the 16th year of Tian Shou. The other was still alive, practically bouncing with vitality a sight that was utterly an eyesore.

Despite the openness in the other’s gaze, Yan Chilí still spared no effort in assuming the worst of him. He let out a harsh, raspy laugh, his voice as grating as a broken pipe.

This was only natural. No one ever praised a ghost’s voice; instead, there were only tales of their wailing and howling. Besides, his own throat was ruined, making it impossible to produce any pleasant sound.

“Did your father send you to persuade me to surrender, you rebel ghost?” He was bound in iron chains, his body a mere skeleton.

Lacking the strength for anything else, he could only resort to the utmost sarcasm in his tone.

His temperament was perverse; he had never once shown a friendly face.

To his surprise, the young man remained cheerful and unbothered, coming every day to treat his wounds and bring him food.

His leg was broken, and he suffered the constant agony of cold poison. He gritted his teeth in endurance, thinking he had hidden his pain, but the young man was as observant as a single strand of hair.

The next day, a warm tiger skin was draped over his blood-stained leg.

He recognized that tiger skin.

It came from a ninth-grade demon beast and served as the cushion for Demon Lord Pei Xuan’s throne. Now, it appeared before him without a hint of hesitation, like a toy a child had grown tired of.

“Mind your own business.”

How could anyone be kind enough to pity a ghost?

He realized then that the young man was showing him special favor.

“If you pity me, why don’t you just let me go?” Sensing the young man’s fondness for him, Yan Chili, a ghost demon of high cultivation softened his tone, releasing a seductive and bewitching voice.

The young man shook his head. “I can’t.”

“Will you let me go or not? You’re only at the Qi Refining Stage, weak as hell. Believe it or not, I could kill you with one hand.” As the words fell, the temperature plummeted to below zero.

Yan Chili spread his five fingers, pretending to strangle him.

The young man’s lips trembled in fear. “Ghost Big Brother, you’re so fierce.”

Yet he still refused to comply. It seemed that while he looked soft and gentle, he was actually not foolish at all.

Yan Chilí was furious to the point of near-death, yet he could only be bound once more by twelve iron chains, his freedom stripped away.

That said, he still survived, and under the boy’s care, he recovered his strength.

The Storage Bag the boy carried held an abundance of the rarest healing medicines, treasures that would be impossible to find even if one searched the heavens and the underworld.

Pei Xuan spoils him too much, leaving him completely ignorant of the value of these things. Raising a child this way is wrong, Yan Chilí thought, watching coldly from the sidelines.

The scion of the Demon Lord should not be raised so naive and kind. He couldn’t say what the boy should be like perhaps he should follow Demon Lord Jiyuan’s philosophy: throw all the children into the Sea-Making Abyss Tower, and only the most ruthless and powerful would emerge as the winner.

The future of the Demon Realm should be to slaughter all humans and cultivators, to conquer the Cultivation World, not to maintain this peaceful coexistence where the two realms simply left each other alone.

The Heavenly Dao itself had always tacitly approved of this cruel law of competition.

Though he also thought that if they threw the physically weaker boy into the Sea-Making Abyss Tower, he probably wouldn’t survive a single day.

So, it was best not to do that.

His body had recovered, but his voice had never fully healed.

When Pei Xuan’s sword pierced his shoulder blade, it also slashed his throat.

Now, every word he spoke felt like swallowing shards of glass, a thousand cuts endured with every syllable.

Even so, Yan Chilí forced himself to endure the excruciating pain every day.

He would visit his captor, his mood a volatile mix of feigned indifference, mockery, disdain, and a sliver of anticipation, just to taunt him. Looking back, he realized it was simply because he was too lonely and craved someone to talk to.

“Tell me…” one day, unable to suppress his curiosity any longer, he grabbed a ghost servant delivering a meal by the throat and demanded fiercely, “What did Pei Xuan’s son see in me?”

Though his cultivation was sealed, his aura of command remained.

The ghost servant, terrified, collapsed to his knees. He answered tremulously, “Because Your Highness has a face as beautiful as a flower.”

A face as beautiful as a flower?

Yan Chilí’s mind went blank. He had never even considered such an answer.

In the ghost servant’s terrified eyes, he saw his own reflection clearly, disheveled hair, a deathly pale complexion, with only the inherited beauty from his mother granting him a place in the world.

Attracted by my looks alone? What a superficial reason for affection!

Yan Chili was furious. Yet the next day, he had the little ghost wash his hair, trading his disheveled appearance for a neat, tied-back look.

Despite this, when they met the following day and the youth was bouncing around before him as usual, Yan Chili couldn’t help but lash out: “You’re so superficial.”

The youth looked aggrieved.

He had lived his entire life this way, he simply loved handsome men and beautiful women! Even the demonic cultivators serving as his guards were each more stunning than the last.

Looking at them every day put him in a great mood.

Yan Chili was infuriated by such a matter-of-fact statement.

He couldn’t resist attacking again: “Don’t think I don’t know what’s on your mind. Don’t even dream about it!” He had been arrogant and imperious his whole life; it was absolutely impossible for him to compromise for anyone!

The youth protested, “I wasn’t thinking anything.”

Feeling utterly wronged, he leaned in for a hug with one of his demonic cultivator guards. A peacock of unknown origin, its feathers shimmering with iridescent light, perched on the youth’s shoulder. It seemed to want to slap the insolent Yan Chili, but unfortunately, it failed.

Yan Chili himself didn’t even notice that from then on, the gaze he fixed upon the youth’s guards grew cold and murderous, his expression of jealousy enough to make one’s skin crawl.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, it was the nineteenth year of Tian Shou.

For many cultivators, this was merely the duration of a single secluded meditation.

A protracted war had engulfed the Cultivation World.

The reason was simple: the young man was dead.

An ancient divine weapon had pierced through his abdomen, and countless streams of blood had spread beneath him.

Yan Chilí’s heart trembled. He had once been personally impaled through his shoulder blades, and he knew all too well the agony that came with it.

Even he, a Mahayana Stage ghost cultivator, had found the pain unbearable. How much more so for the young man, who was only slightly stronger than a mortal? He must have died in excruciating pain.

Beholding the young man’s tragic end, Yan Chilí’s hair turned white overnight, and his eyes became like an endless abyss. With his white hair and crimson eyes, he looked more like a Fierce Ghost than ever before.

Within the Cultivation World, the Immortal Sects and Dao States were thrown into chaos. “How long has it been since we last had peace? Now we have to face another war between immortals and demons?”

“There is no other way. Pei Xuan has gone mad. Three hundred million demons will attack the Cultivation World the day after tomorrow. The ancient prophecy was true after all the world-ending calamity has truly arrived.”

“Heaven intends to destroy the Shenzhou Continent!”

In the desolate Demon Realm, a deathly silence reigned.

The hatred and gloom in Yan Chilí’s eyes were almost overflowing.

“I will march with the army.” What did the Cultivation World matter? He would ignite a fire on this World-Ending Battlefield, turning it into a place of ghostly wails and wolf howls wherever he went.

Countless demon soldiers rushed forward to volunteer.

Only then did Yan Chilí realize that Ye Qing was of immense importance to the entire Demon Realm, and even the Cultivation World.

On the battlefield, thousands of bones were piled into mountains. When cultivators died, their souls were extinguished, turning into shooting stars in the sky.

That day, the mortal world was filled with a vast sea of stars, and a breathtakingly beautiful meteor shower began to fall.

Soon, the Divine Continent was awash in blood, a plague swept through the mortal realm, and the world truly met its end.

***

Memories gradually faded, and the world changed beyond recognition. The youth’s gentle and kind face also blurred, transforming into this three-year-old toddler.

The youth who would one day be exceptionally elegant and graceful was now merely a soft, white, and fragile little ball of jade-like cuteness.

Yan Chili couldn’t bring himself to laugh at him.

Instead, he would only believe that the Heavenly Dao was merciful, restarting a new cycle of destiny. He hoped that this time, the youth would still be that Little Immortal Lord who wandered between the Two Realms, happy and carefree.

__

Inside the underground palace, everyone’s faces were grim as they continued to brainstorm.

“Everyone, think of a way. What should we do if we encounter a Fierce Ghost? Do we have any magical artifacts?” Jing Qian asked, his face clouded with worry.

The situation was all too clear: they had accidentally stumbled into the Demon Lord’s tomb, and while his three senior and junior brothers had escaped unscathed, his own life was now on the line.

The Ghost Crown Prince, who had ended the chaos of the Demon Realm and risen to prominence, was clearly no ordinary Fierce Ghost.

Without a magical artifact, how could they possibly escape?

With no other choice, Jing Qian pulled out a stack of ghost-repelling talismans and distributed two to each person. His voice was heavy. “Take these, everyone. My cultivation is limited, and I’ve never bought high-quality cinnabar. The talismans I drew can only repel little ghosts; they’ll be useless against someone like the Ghost Crown Prince. As soon as you slap a talisman on, run immediately. Don’t look back.”

His words sounded like a final farewell.

The group took the talismans in silence.

Ye Qing quickly grabbed two as well. Like applying heat patches, he stuck one under each armpit and one on his soft belly. Otherwise, this little baby of his wouldn’t be able to run away, and he’d feel very insecure!

Just as he heard mention of a ghost-repelling magical artifact.

Qin Xun’s heart stirred. He knew this was his moment to shine.

After all, he actually possessed such an item, a magical artifact he had found in a hidden grotto-heaven, capable of dispelling Fierce Ghosts below the Foundation Establishment stage.

The old man with the jade pendant urged him, “Quickly, take it out. Successfully seize the leadership position.”

Though the people present were either at the Foundation Establishment or Qi Refining stage, they would all become the core force capable of resisting Pei Xuan in the future. If Qin Xun could secure a leadership role among his peers now, it would be a great boon for him later!

“Alright!” Qin Xun was about to take it out when a thought struck him.

Everyone disliked Yin Miaomiao, and he worried that if he brought out the artifact, Senior Brother Jing Qian might ask him to purify her first.

This thought made him hesitate.

The old man with the jade pendant asked, “Why aren’t you moving?”

Qin Xun knew he couldn’t reveal his true reason, so he lied, “It’s not the best time yet. I’ll wait until the Fierce Ghost truly breaks out, then I’ll sacrifice the artifact to save my junior brothers and sisters from danger. The effect will be better, and I can even add a few life-saving favors to my name.”

The Cultivation World placed the utmost importance on karma.

To keep one’s Dao Heart steadfast, saving a life not only required gratitude but also the repayment of the favor. Otherwise, it would spawn Inner Demons, hindering one’s cultivation.

“Good,” the old man with the jade pendant nodded.

At the mention of magical artifacts, Ye Qing’s delicate little brow furrowed.

He suddenly remembered that he seemed to have a very powerful magical artifact of his own!

So he declared, “Big Brother, I have a magical artifact!”

He pulled it out of his Storage Bag.

He had bought it from the Yunzhou City market not the basket, but the Immortal-Binding Rope that was sold with it.

The basket could instantly capture birds and beasts, making twenty or thirty immortal creatures from the Land of Bai Ze throw themselves into his net.

The human cub thought to himself: if the basket had already proven its power, then the Immortal-Binding Rope must be even stronger!

The young man named He Lanxu had said, “…Little brother, look at this rope in my left hand. This is the Immortal-Binding Rope. Once it is unleashed, whether it be a demon beast or a demonic cultivator, none can escape its shackles. They will all willingly become your captives.”

Fierce Ghosts were a type of demonic cultivator.

Listen to that item description!

A divine artifact!

This was absolutely a divine artifact among magical artifacts!

“What kind of artifact? Let me see!” Jing Qian was overjoyed and hurriedly pushed through the crowd to get a closer look.

Ye Qing said, “This is the Immortal-Binding Rope. Brother He Lanxu sold it to me.”

Jing Qian took the rope and examined it closely. After a long moment of silence, he wiped his face with his hand and said in a strained voice, “Qingqing, my dear, don’t be impulsive. If you see a ghost, just stay behind me.”

What Immortal-Binding Rope? This was just a regular piece of hemp twine, made from the most common hemp plant in the mortal realm. It didn’t contain a single trace of spiritual energy.

Isn’t this magical artifact powerful?

Ye Qing tilted his head in confusion, unable to understand. Still, he clenched his small fist and gave a loud “Mhm,” promising not to be impulsive!

Three meters away, the Guiyuan Sect disciples lowered their voices, their faces filled with genuine condemnation.

“Senior Brother Helan has gone too far! How could he deceive a child?”

“So this is how Senior Brother does business in Yunzhou City. No wonder he’s amassed over a hundred thousand spirit stones…”

“But to scam even a child… He’s bringing shame upon our Guiyuan Sect!”

The more innocent and adorable the human child appeared, and the more enthusiastically and sincerely he shared his treasure, the more heinous He Lanxu’s deception seemed.

To protect their sect’s reputation and to preserve the child’s innocence, the Guiyuan Sect disciples kept the truth to themselves.

A magical artifact?

How could anyone be more special than him and possess a ghost-expelling artifact?

Qin Xun found it hard to believe, yet his heart still leaped into his throat at the human cub’s words. But when he saw the rope, his excitement deflated instantly.

He couldn’t help covering his face with his hand, terrified he might burst out laughing in public.

An hour later, he was stunned: ???

What kind of magical artifact is this? It’s so powerful!