Immortal Travel of Longevity

In the Mortal World City God Temple, the ghost gates to the Yellow Springs opened.

When the Gate of the Yellow Springs opened, Zhong Zhengyuan stepped through without hesitation.

Hong Sancai stood to the side, his expression calm. Just as Zhong Zhengyuan was about to step inside, he offered a word of caution. "Priest, this path is perilous. Why not seek another way?"

Zhong Zhengyuan paused and glanced back. "My Dao lies with the common people, right here beneath my feet. You must be extremely careful after this, City God. Do not draw the demonic path's vengeance upon yourself because of me."

With those words, he stepped into the gate.

Hong Sancai parted his lips to speak, but seeing the great gates of the Yellow Springs slowly pull shut, he fell silent. Staring at the City God Idol, he remained quiet for a long time.

Sometimes, he truly had no idea what he was doing.

Time and time again, he had broken the rules.

He knew exactly what he was about to face. He could only pray in secret that the Tribulation would arrive just a little slower.

The waters of the Yellow Springs swallowed Zhong Zhengyuan.

Battered by the waves, he couldn't catch his breath. Plunging into the Yellow Springs, his Magical Power felt entirely sealed away. Unable to draw upon it, he thrashed wildly in the water like a helpless little fish caught in the surf.

The moment he entered the Yellow Springs, Manyue—the master of this realm and the one who governed Reincarnation—sensed him instantly.

"A living person has entered."

Manyue murmured. A wisp of black energy drifted into the area. Judging by the figure, it was indeed the Evil Phoenix. Unlike before, however, he now wore an Opera Mask.

The Demon Sovereign asked, "Who is it?"

Manyue paused. "A priest. A priest from Tianji Mountain."

The Demon Sovereign was taken aback for a moment. He pondered briefly before musing, "A priest from Tianji Mountain..."

Manyue looked at him. "He likely noticed what you've been doing and came down here specifically to investigate."

The Demon Sovereign stroked his chin. The Opera Mask completely hid his expression. After a moment, he said, "Let him investigate, then."

Manyue asked, "You mean to keep him here?"

"No."

The Demon Sovereign shook his head. "Let him go. Let him spread the word. We need the world to panic. Only when everyone is in an absolute panic will the Heavenly Dao believe it is real."

Manyue's expression shifted slightly. "You really are bold."

The Demon Sovereign chuckled. "Without turning a fake play into reality, how could I ever deceive the Dharma Eye of heaven and earth? That old bastard is absurdly cunning."

Thanks to this deliberate arrangement, Zhong Zhengyuan walked into the Underworld without a hitch.

Arriving in this unfamiliar realm, he stood in a daze for a moment before wading into the endless expanse of yellow sand.

Countless souls wandered along the way.

He marveled at the profound mysteries of the Way of Reincarnation present here, yet felt unsettled by the unmistakable eeriness that periodically bled through.

He blended into the procession of departed souls.

Realizing his physical body was far too conspicuous, he buried it deep within the Sand Sea to keep it hidden. His soul then slipped from its mortal shell, mingling perfectly with the crowd.

He spotted one underworld deputy and soul envoy after another.

Ox-Heads and Horse-Faces, soul-reaping envoys... In a moment of clarity, Zhong Zhengyuan distinctly sensed the demonic energy clinging to their bodies.

His heart pounded in alarm. Reincarnation...

Had it truly been seized by demonic cultivators?!

He followed the procession of departed souls all the way to the banks of the River of the Underworld.

A massive hall stood before the River of the Underworld, blocking the path to the bridge.

Stepping into the hall, he spotted a woman stirring a ladle in front of a massive cauldron. The pot of soup gave off a rich, intoxicating aroma. Just a single whiff was enough to leave a person spellbound.

The surrounding souls drifted forward, and the underworld deputies handed them bowls of soup one by one.

"The Mortal World's Journey to the West claims that Meng Po stands before the bridge of the Underworld. A single bowl of Meng Po Soup makes one forget all the sorrows of this life..."

"Is that the Underworld's Meng Po?"

Zhong Zhengyuan raised an eyebrow. Something felt off.

No matter how he looked at her, this Meng Po seemed to be just an ordinary woman.

Meng Po didn't look old at all. In fact, she looked like a young girl. She was diligently brewing the soup, occasionally tossing more firewood beneath the cauldron. Her face was smudged with soot—a speck on her nose, a streak across her cheek—giving her a quirky, playful appearance.

"Here's yours!"

An underworld deputy shoved a bowl of soup right under Zhong Zhengyuan's nose.

Startled, Zhong Zhengyuan took it with both hands.

"Hey, hey, hey! No, that won't do!"

Meng Po suddenly called out, stopping him in his tracks.

"This person is different!"

The underworld deputy blinked and looked back. "My Lady, what..."

Meng Po planted her hands on her hips and eyed Zhong Zhengyuan up and down. "We need to up the dosage! Otherwise, he won't forget everything!"

Zhong Zhengyuan stiffened. "I presume you are Meng Po?"

Meng Po blinked. "Ah, yep, that's me. Don't be scared. Just one gulp of soup and you'll forget everything. Be good, drink your soup, and don't make a fuss. The last guy who threw a tantrum ended up getting boiled right into the soup."

Zhong Zhengyuan swallowed hard. "Lady Meng Po, why must my dosage be increased?"

Meng Po said, "Because you aren't a mortal."

Zhong Zhengyuan nodded slowly, understanding dawning on him. Unable to hide his curiosity, he asked, "I observe that you seem to possess only the soul of a mortal, Lady Meng Po. How could you tell that I am..."

Meng Po pointed at her eyes. "My eyes."

After just a few sentences, Zhong Zhengyuan had entirely let his guard down.

From the looks of it, this Meng Po wasn't difficult to talk to at all. In fact, she seemed quite approachable.

"I have one more question."

The underworld deputy standing nearby glared. "Enough of your nonsense!"

Meng Po said, "Hey now, don't scare him. You might not even be able to beat him in a fight."

The underworld deputy choked on his words and promptly fell silent.

Meng Po went back to stirring her soup. "What do you want to ask?"

Zhong Zhengyuan said, "This may be a bit presumptuous, but I would like to know what exactly this Meng Po Soup is brewed from. For it to make a person forget their past and present lives, it truly is a divine soup."

Meng Po looked up at him. "I can't tell you that."

"I'll forget it all the moment I drink the soup anyway," Zhong Zhengyuan reasoned. "So it shouldn't matter, right?"

Meng Po shook her head, her refusal firm. "Still can't do it."

"..."

Seeing her resolve, Zhong Zhengyuan didn't push the issue. "Alright, then..."

Meng Po nodded approvingly. "Mhm, that's a good boy. Don't ask what you shouldn't ask. Just be a good boy, let me brew your soup, and don't cause any trouble."

Zhong Zhengyuan's expression turned complicated. He didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

This Meng Po was vastly different from the legend he had pictured in his head.

Just as she went back to brewing the soup, a sudden commotion broke out.

"What bullshit Underworld! My life is my own to command! Let me out of here this instant!"

"I'll smash this broken temple to pieces!"

A figure abruptly forced his way in. The man moved with incredible agility. With a flick of his wrist, he drew a small sword from his divine sense. The moment it landed in his palm, it expanded into a full-length blade.

The underworld deputies immediately sprang into action, drawing their weapons to meet him head-on.

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