Hong Xiu descended the stairs, her silk fan half-covering her face. Her shifting gaze held a hint of the charm born from a life in the pleasure quarters, mixed with the unique chill of a ghostly spirit.
“I am Hong Xiu. In life, I was the Courtesan Queen of the Southern Tang Music Registry; after death, I entered the ghost mansion and have cultivated for one hundred and twenty-one thousand years.”
“Brother Zhao Lie didn't make things too difficult for you, did he? That man... he was a general for so long in life that he does everything by the book. He doesn't even know how to go easy on his juniors when they fight.”
Hong Xiu picked up a wine cup from the table and offered it to Chen Zhou, her eyes curving into crescents.
“Come, have a drink to calm your nerves.”
Chen Zhou didn't take it. With a graceful flick of her wrist and a smile, Hong Xiu brought the cup to her own lips and drained it in one gulp.
“Brother Zhao Lie suppressed his cultivation, but ended up being scattered by you. He’s quite fuming right now.”
“I am also very curious to see what kind of junior could make Brother Zhao Lie suffer such a setback.”
She circled Chen Zhou, her fan swaying gently as her gaze swept him up and down.
“You don't look like anything special. Your cultivation is mediocre, and your aura is just average. Your merit is quite thick, I’ll give you that, but merit is useless in a fight without that lord's legacy.”
“You’d better be careful. I won't go easy on you like Brother Zhao Lie did.”
“I came from the Music Registry in my past life. Though I was a woman of the pleasure quarters, my pride has never been low.”
“I was able to fight my way to becoming the Courtesan Queen in life, and my vengeful soul refused to scatter after death. Even after entering the Xuandu Ghost Mansion, my temperament hasn't changed.”
“In these one hundred and twenty thousand years, I haven't spent a single moment idle.”
“I have practiced all the techniques passed down by Lord Xuandu to the level of great mastery.”
“Among the Seven Evils, my strength ranks fourth, but when it comes to talent, I yield to no one except the eldest.”
She tilted her chin up. Those smiling eyes were now devoid of any warmth, leaving only a sharp, piercing edge.
“So, as I said before, I will not be polite. Brother Zhao Lie lost to you because he was too careless. I will not be.”
Hong Xiu continued, her malice completely undisguised.
“Come then. Let me see how much weight you actually carry, junior.”
She raised her hands and clapped them together softly.
The candlelight in the hall flickered simultaneously, and a cloyingly sweet fragrance began to permeate the air.
“Oh, I forgot to tell you—I cultivate the Path of Extreme Emotions.”
“What is the Path of Extreme Emotions?”
“It is the art of refining one's seven emotions and six desires into lethal weapons. Joy, anger, sorrow, happiness, love, hate, and greed—every emotion is a blade.”
“The angrier you are, the stronger I become. The sadder you are, the faster I am. The more terrified you are, the more I—”
Hong Xiu was mid-sentence when she suddenly felt a tightening sensation all over her body.
Chen Zhou felt it too; the laws of the Xuandu Ghost Mansion were beginning to take effect.
The rule of the second stage: testing soul age. Hong Xiu's soul age would be suppressed to match his.
Chen Zhou’s expression turned somewhat subtle.
For ordinary people, the second stage was indeed much harder than the first.
In the first stage, one faced an opponent of the same cultivation level. At the same level, it came down to techniques, experience, and combat awareness. While there was still a gap, it was at least within the realm of possibility to close.
But in the second stage, one faced an opponent of the same soul age.
Soul age referred to the total sum of time from birth to the present.
Who knew what kind of monsters one's peers might be?
Xuandu had also said that the Seven Evils under his command were all geniuses capable of suppressing an entire era.
If Chen Zhou’s soul age were tens of thousands of years, then the Hong Xiu he faced today would be a master of the Path of Extreme Emotions who had lived for tens of thousands of years.
Unfortunately...
At most, even adding the age before his transmigration, Chen Zhou was only in his early twenties.
If she were suppressed to his age, no matter how talented she was, how strong could a Courtesan Queen in her early twenties be?
The force of the rules grew stronger, and the aura on Hong Xiu's body began to plummet rapidly.
She looked down at her hands in horror. The dark red death qi swirling around her fingers was dissipating bit by bit.
“No... that's not right. What is this feeling?”
Hong Xiu's bright red dress began to fade. The golden peonies peeled off the fabric, falling to the ground one by one and dissolving into specks of golden light.
Her gorgeous appearance was also changing. The fine lines at the corners of her eyes vanished, the ferocity in her brow dissipated, and her mature, seductive features gradually became youthful and innocent.
In just a few breaths, her red dress had completely turned into a gray cloth skirt with several patches. The embroidered shoes on her feet had become straw sandals.
The once-glamorous face was now sallow and thin, her hair was dull and yellow, and her entire body radiated an aura of malnourished poverty.
Hong Xiu looked at her appearance in terror. She tried desperately to grab onto something, but her form continued to shrink. She stumbled and actually fell from mid-air.
After a few more breaths, Hong Xiu looked down at her body. She had turned into a child of three or four years old.
“How... how is this possible?”
Hong Xiu's voice had also turned into that of a child, sounding as tender as if she had only recently learned to speak.
Chen Zhou crossed his arms and looked at the child huddled on the ground with great interest. “Oh? So this is what you looked like before you fell into the pleasure quarters. You're actually quite cute.”
Hong Xiu's eyes widened, and her teeth chattered slightly. “How! You... you're this young?”
She had just mocked Chen Zhou for having “mediocre cultivation,” but now she realized that his cultivation wasn't mediocre at all—it was his soul age that was terrifyingly short.
A young man with a soul age of only a few years, yet his cultivation could reach the seventh-stage five contracts?
Hong Xiu gritted her teeth, forcing down the shock in her heart. She struggled to climb up from the ground and looked up at Chen Zhou, trying her best to put on a fierce expression.
But a three or four-year-old girl, no matter how fierce she tried to be, only looked adorable.
“So what if I'm only three? Do not underestimate me!”
Hong Xiu snarled.
“Even before I died, before I bathed in the grace of the Northern Great Emperor, with the talent I had in life, I could still—”
Before she could finish, her body began to shrink again.
Hong Xiu watched helplessly as her hands thinned even more and her height dropped further. Her three-to-four-year-old form gradually became that of a two-year-old.
Two years old became the form of a child who had just learned to walk, and that quickly became a toddler barely able to take a step.
Hong Xiu's threats came to an abrupt halt. She looked at her shrinking body in horror and tried to take a step forward, but her foot missed its mark, and she fell face-first onto the ground with a soft thud.
She looked up, meeting Chen Zhou’s downward gaze. In his eyes, there was a very subtle emotion.
It didn't look like mockery, and it didn't feel like sympathy. It seemed like he found it a bit funny but was too embarrassed to laugh, so he was trying his best to restrain himself.
Hong Xiu felt as if she had suffered the ultimate humiliation.
She wanted to curse in a rage, but when she opened her mouth, all that came out was a string of incoherent babbling.
She was a soft, doughy little ball with fair skin and tiny hands and feet. She couldn't even stand steadily, having to use one hand to prop herself up against the wall while the other flailed wildly in an attempt to maintain her balance.
Hong Xiu: “...”
Chen Zhou: “...”
Hong Xiu was screaming internally.
This is bad. I talked big way too early. How am I supposed to fight like this? How?!
She looked down at her chubby little hands, then up at the tall man across from her, her mind going completely blank.
Wait, how could he possibly have a soul age of only one year?
Hong Xiu finally realized—one year. What did one year even mean?
One year meant that only a single year had passed since his birth.
In one year, starting from zero, he could reach the seventh-stage five contracts?
That’s fundamentally impossible!
Hong Xiu looked at Chen Zhou in terror as countless thoughts flashed through her mind.
Was he the reincarnation of some innate deity? Or some kind of spirit fetus nurtured by heaven and earth? Or perhaps he used some secret technique to forge his soul age?
No.
The rules of the Xuandu Ghost Emperor Mansion would not lie.
Never mind the seventh-stage; even a being at the ninth-stage Truth-Usurping realm, who could forge their bone age, lifespan, and even certain characteristics of their divine soul, would still be forced to manifest their original form under the rules of the Xuandu Ghost Mansion.
Because the rules of the Xuandu Ghost Emperor Mansion were set by the Northern Great Emperor himself and were directly linked to the Underworld. In this world, no existence could lie before the rules of the Underworld.
Therefore, the judgment of the opponent's soul age being only one year was the absolute truth.
This one-year-old monster had passed the trial of the Zhaoye Ghost Emperor Mansion in less than two incense sticks of time, had frontally scattered Zhao Lie when suppressed to the same level, and was now forcing the rules to suppress her into a one-year-old infant.
Hong Xiu's tiny brain could no longer process this. She had always thought of herself as a genius with extraordinary talent that was rare in the world.
She had always believed that the ratio of her soul age to her strength was one in ten thousand even among geniuses, but now?
The man she faced had a soul age of only one year, yet his strength had already reached the seventh-stage five contracts.
This could no longer be described as talent; this was a monster.
Hong Xiu felt her self-esteem shatter into pieces. She wanted to cry.
But she held it in.
She couldn't cry. She was one of the Seven Evils under the Xuandu Ghost Emperor, having cultivated for over one hundred and twenty thousand years. What storms had she not seen?
Though defeat was certain, she couldn't lose too pathetically.
Even as a one-year-old infant, she had to fight. This was the pride of someone from the ghost mansion.
So, Hong Xiu let go of the wall, struggled to stand firm, tilted her head back, and opened her mouth, intending to deliver one last defiant line.
But the sound she made was: “I... Iya!”
Hong Xiu: “...”
Now she really wanted to cry.
Chen Zhou looked completely unbothered, showing no trace of guilt about the fact that he was about to beat up a toddler. He raised his hand to condense a bone spear and threw it casually.
The bone spear pierced straight through Hong Xiu's body.
Hong Xiu's eyes were full of indignation, but at the same time, a subtle emotion flickered deep within them.
She collapsed, nursing her grievance.
There were many reasons for her grievance.
She hated herself for underestimating the enemy, hated herself for talking too much, and hated that she had lost without even making a single move.
She hated that when she turned into a one-year-old infant and fell to the ground, Chen Zhou’s expression was a subtle mix of being charmed by her cuteness while trying to act as if nothing was wrong.
It was truly too embarrassing.
Hong Xiu closed her eyes, her form dissolving into specks of red light. The golden beams and jade pillars around them dissolved along with her.
The scenery before Chen Zhou changed once more, and he was back in the main hall of the Xuandu Ghost Emperor Mansion.
Xuandu stood on the high platform with his back to Chen Zhou. His black hair hung down to his waist, and he shook his head slightly, the green vine hair-tie swaying with his movement.
“Out so soon?”
Xuandu's voice remained flat, but a trace of disappointment could be heard within it.
Xuandu had been keeping time. From the moment Chen Zhou entered the trial until now, less than half a cup of tea’s time had passed.
What could one do in half a cup of tea?
In his expectations, Zhao Lie was exceptionally fierce and well-versed in the art of war—the wind, forest, fire, and mountain were all his strategies for resisting the enemy.
As for Hong Xiu, she had numerous methods—the zither, chess, calligraphy, painting, tea, incense, and dance were all lethal moves.
Even if Chen Zhou could hold out, he should have lasted longer. At the very least, he should have been able to force the two of them to use a few of their techniques.
But coming out in half a cup of tea—what did that mean?
It meant that Chen Zhou most likely hadn't even lasted a single move and was instantly killed by one of them.
Xuandu sighed inwardly. He turned around, prepared to offer a few words of guidance, only to see Chen Zhou standing there with a smile, completely unharmed.
Xuandu’s brow furrowed slightly.
Then, he saw Zhao Lie and Hong Xiu behind Chen Zhou.
Zhao Lie's expression was very complex, appearing somewhat frustrated but mostly resigned.
As for Hong Xiu, the usually talkative female ghost was currently hanging her head, her hands clutching the hem of her dress, her ears as red as if they were about to drip blood.
An uneasy premonition rose in Xuandu’s heart.
“You passed?”
Chen Zhou smiled. “I passed.”
Xuandu was silent for a moment. Zhao Lie lowered his head, and Hong Xiu buried hers even deeper, almost into her chest.
Snickering sounds came from the side.
The ghost with the chains was the first to laugh out loud, while the obese ghost and the thin ghost leaned on each other, gloating over their comrades' misfortune.
Zhao Lie's face grew even darker.
Hong Xiu's face grew even redder.
Xuandu frowned and, without a word, raised his hand and flicked his sleeve.
A massive light-screen manifested in the void, and the scenes of the trials began to replay—publicly executing their dignity for all the ghosts to see.
The footage of the first stage appeared first.
Zhao Lie and Chen Zhou clashed in a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood. Zhao Lie swung his massive ghost-head blade in a frenzy, but every strike was blocked three feet away by the karma-fire.
Chen Zhou simply stood in place, casually throwing a few clumps of Hatred Fire and stacking a few layers of poison. Then, with a simple Venom Burst, he blew Zhao Lie into fragments.
After the footage ended, the hall fell silent for a long time.
The ghost with the chains, who had been laughing, stopped abruptly.
“Wait. Old Zhao’s loss was a fluke!”
“This kid’s divine techniques must have just happened to counter his. Anyone else would have suffered the same. We can't blame him.”
Zhao Lie reached out and pressed a hand on the chain-wrapped ghost's shoulder, shaking his head.
“My skills were inferior; a loss is a loss. There's no need to make excuses for me.”
Zhao Lie only felt that he hadn't tasted this kind of helpless frustration—where he couldn't even land a hit—for over a hundred thousand years, not since he faced the Northern Great Emperor and the Xuandu Ghost Emperor.
So, it wasn't that he couldn't frankly admit it; he actually found it quite nostalgic.
The other malevolent ghosts quieted down.
Zhao Lie usually didn't say much, but among the Seven Evils, his seniority was the deepest and his strength was among the top two. For him to say the words “my skills were inferior” was enough to prove Chen Zhou's strength.
Xuandu looked at the light-screen, still not speaking.
He flicked his sleeve again, and the image switched to the second stage.
On the surface, Xuandu appeared unmoved, but his heart was already in a state of turmoil.
His vision was broader than that of the Seven Evils, and he had never heard of any divine technique that could completely grant immunity to all attacks.
The only thing that came close was a godhead; those without a rank found it very difficult to damage a ranked god.
But Zhao Lie belonged to the Great Emperor's Palace, and his status was not low at all.
So, how did this junior do it?
Rate on N.U.
