Is the cultivation world now only populated by demonesses?

Chapter 88. The River Styx Descends from Heaven
The girl walked to the door.

"Who?" The silver-haired girl's voice was extremely soft, like that of a wife who had been waiting for her husband to return for a long time.

"Open the door, it's me, the Third Prince."

Outside the door was Lu Changyuan's voice, it was definitely Lu Changyuan's voice, with the same tone that said, "I don't care about the raging flood."

A hint of doubt flashed in Su Youwan's red eyes. Lu Changyuan had only been gone for less than an hour, yet he had already returned?
She paused slightly, but still managed to pry open the latch. The hinges turned, making a soft creaking sound.

A handsome young man in black robes stood at the door, his appearance so striking that he seemed capable of stirring the hearts of young girls. At that moment, the young man was smiling warmly.

"Why is Your Highness looking at me with that expression?"

The road ahead is long.

Su Youwan lowered her eyelashes, her voice ethereal and devoid of emotion: "Why has Young Master Lu returned?"

"Your Highness also likes to answer questions with questions. I've been away for a long time, it's time for me to come back," Lu Changyuan said gently.

"Is that so?" Su Youwan raised her eyes, her gaze seemingly casually sweeping over him. "I don't think it's been that long."

Lu Changyuan nodded slightly, without refuting.

Su Youwan stepped aside to make way, her face as calm as still water: "Come in."

The girl seemed to believe him completely.

Lu Changyuan stepped smoothly into the house, walking with ease, and said as he went, "The gates of hell are about to open, Your Highness. The spirits of the underworld will be coming out one after another."

“Yes, I’ve read about it in the classics.” Su Youwan responded softly, her tone indifferent, carrying an unusual sense of detachment.

Stab it!

The moment the words fell, the sound of air being torn apart by a sharp object suddenly rang out!

With that sharp sound, sixteen silver lights shot out from Su Youwan's sleeve like shooting stars chasing the moon, and pierced into Lu Changyuan's body with perfect accuracy.

The silver needles, as fine as cow's hair, carried immense force, firmly fixing him in place.

Lu Changyuan's body stiffened abruptly, and a long bone knife appeared in his hand without him noticing. The blade was pale white and exuded an aura of death.

He turned his head with difficulty, his neck making a sickening cracking sound. The skin on his face was like a wet canvas, the colors fading and peeling off rapidly. Blood and flesh turned into a foul-smelling slime that dripped to the ground. In the blink of an eye, only a stark white skeleton remained standing there.

"How...did you know that?"

Su Youwan's expression remained unchanged, and her fair fingers moved once more. Invisible threads intertwined in the air, and an unseen giant net instantly tightened, completely encircling the skeleton.

The crackling sounds continued incessantly, and the skeleton instantly turned into a pile of uniformly sized bone fragments.

The girl then spoke softly.

“His smell is much better.” She frowned slightly. “Besides, Young Master Lu isn’t very polite; he knocks on the door before going home.”

The silver-haired girl used her fingertips to guide nearly transparent threads, stringing together the broken bones. Then she pushed open the door and threw the bones into the thick, impenetrable fog outside.

You can't have this kind of garbage in your own home.

On the seemingly endless street, the fog writhed like a living thing, swallowing up light and sound.

Su Youwan suddenly raised her head.

Gudong, Gudong.

Suona?

鼓？
Suddenly, a sickening, tooth-grinding melody, indistinguishable in its instruments, rose from the mist.

A cold, damp wind blew by without warning, stirring up the mist.

The underworld is a city hidden between life and death. Therefore, everything here is an illusion; houses have no color, and spirits have no substance.

But when this gust of wind blows...

Everything is different now. It's as if an invisible giant brush, dipped in color, is painting this illusory world with vibrant hues.

Little by little, inch by inch, the outline of the house on the street corner, which had always seemed like a phantom, began to become clear.

Whether it's blue bricks and gray tiles or mottled old wooden doors, they are being pulled out of nothingness and gradually transformed into reality.

As the gates of hell open, the past of the underworld returns, and the spirits of the dead seem to regain their vibrant appearances. The dilapidated cities break free from the boundary between life and death and stand tall once more in the human world.

The music grew closer, pounding on my heart, making it hard to breathe.

Within the thick, milky white fog, rustling figures began to emerge.

The eerie cries and ghostly screams, accompanied by music, drifted from afar.

Leading the way was the fourth-realm cultivator who had long since died. His eyes were empty and lifeless, and his huge bone wings spread out behind him, each flap accompanied by a shrill and piercing whistle.

Winged people cleared the way.

Behind them were black spirits clad in tattered armor. They marched in orderly ranks, their steps silent yet heavy, their chilling killing intent almost tangible.

At the very end of this strange procession was a sedan chair carried by eight black spirits, its swaying causing the figures inside to appear and disappear.

It was a golden skeleton with a chilling flame flickering in its eyes.

Su Youwan stared at the scene in disbelief.

This was her first time in the Underworld. Although she had read about the opening of the Gates of Hell in ancient texts, the scene described in those texts was nothing like what she was seeing before her.

Whether it's the reappearance of the underworld or the opening of the gates of hell, it should be a sacred ceremony in which countless spirits pray fervently for the return of the King of the Underworld.

But now that the gates of hell have opened, what will return?
A golden skull?
The golden skull sat high in the sedan chair, with spirits acting as its bearers, its posture arrogant, like that of a king.

In the underworld, how could anyone other than the King of the Underworld, who has yet to return, possibly command spirits in this way?
Su Youwan reacted extremely quickly. Almost the instant the golden skull came into view, she pointed her fingers like a sword, and countless needles as thin as hairs shot out from her sleeve, like a waterfall woven from moonlight.

Sixteen Moon Flower Needles!

At the same time, the air behind her began to slowly distort, gradually condensing into a blurry yet enormous shadow.

The shadow was holy and majestic; upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a pure white Thousand-Hand Guanyin.

"Certainly!"

Su Youwan's lips parted slightly.

The skeleton in the mist glanced at the girl, just once.

clang!
All the needles bounced back.

Su Youwan trembled violently, as if struck by a heavy blow. An indescribable and terrifying backlash came along the needle and slammed into her body, knocking her back into the house. The lotus crown on the girl's head was knocked off, and her moon-like silver hair fell down.

The golden skull did not look at Su Youwan again, and seemed to have no intention of killing her completely.

The silver-haired girl coughed up a mouthful of blood, staining her chest red. The specks of crimson on her snow-white skin were heartbreaking.

Boom! ! !

It was as if thunder had exploded, and the entire underworld heard it.

A huge rift was suddenly torn open in the sky, and from behind the void, something seemed to be eagerly pouring out.

That was a river.

The River Styx!

The gates of hell open, and the River Styx appears.

As the saying goes, the vast River Styx descends from the heavens, its spirit pervading the cycles of Yin and Yang.

But now, someone is hiding in the underworld, disguised as a spirit, laughing even more happily than the dead.

(End of this chapter)