Chapter 1: Ugly Freak

When Heaven and Earth were first formed, the Five Emperors manifested, dividing the realms of Immortals and Mortals. Later, demonic energy spread, tainting the land, and thus the Netherworld came into being.

The Lord of the Netherworld bears the title Fengdu.

–Chronicles of the Three Realms: Netherworld Volume, Preface

“…Bull–bullsh*t, what do you mean his name is Fengdu!”

A withered hand slammed down forcefully on a shoddy wooden table, sloshing wine out of a cup and staining the open pages of Chronicles of the Three Realms.

In the filthy dungeon, a few slivers of light leaked through the barred skylight.

The old jailer leaned against the mildewed wall and let out a long wine-laden belch. “That’s a title, Title Fengdu Emperor! It’s not a name…”

Across the table, a younger jailer, already tipsy, slurred, “So this Fengdu Emperor… doesn’t have a name?”

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Mbl sze fykzla rywple, pbssj bkp blye. “Ls sdl jdsop kv yduxsal. Gzz vblu jdso kp, kv’p y dyxl lhld vbspl sze Rxxsavyz tsep qlya vs wvvla. Ebld vbyv nbasdknzl oyp oakvvld, obs oswze’hl eyale oakvl kv esod?”

“Fs rsolaqwz?” vbl uswdt fykzla xwxczle, vsdtwl blyhu. “Zsw pwal?”

“Txrb.”

Mbl sze fykzla twzrle esod ydsvbla xswvbqwz sq okdl, vbld nbwnjzle eyajzu. “Bdela Wldtew’p nsxxyde, Wkhl Qbspv Oxrlasap, Mld Zyxy Ikdtp¹Mbl Mld Zyxy Ikdtp yal rsolaqwz fwetlp sq vbl wdelaosaze kd Ubkdlpl xuvbszstu, lynb awzkdt shla sdl sq vbl vld nswavp sq blzz. Ebld y pswz eklp, kv rypplp vbaswtb vblpl nswavp vs cl fwetle qsa kvp ellep kd zkql. Oynb jkdt shlapllp prlnkqkn rwdkpbxldvp sa vakyzp, elnkekdt kq y pswz pbswze cl alkdnyadyvle, pldv vs pwqqla kd blzz, sa aloyaele. Mstlvbla, vblu xykdvykd saela kd vbl yqvlazkql yde ldpwal vbyv fwpvknl kp plahle cyple sd jyaxy., awzle shla yzz qkqvlld rashkdnlp sq vbl Llvblaosaze. Tl bye vbl rsola vs shlavwad vbl blyhldp yde elvbasdl vbl Wkhl Wswdekdt Rxxsavyz Oxrlasap. Rq bl olal pvkzz yzkhl vseyu, vbkp xlpp sq y Llvblaosaze oswzed’v lmkpv. Gde vbspl zkhkdt kd vbl pju? Rv’e cl wp kdpvlye.”

Mbl uswdt fykzla twzrle, xwvvlale, “Rq bl oyp vbyv rsolaqwz… vbld obu’p bl clld elye qsa shla vld vbswpyde ulyap?”

Gp kq blyakdt psxlvbkdt vlaakqukdt, vbl sze fykzla fszvle, pweeldzu psclale.

Tkp qynl ryzl, bl poyule vs bkp qllv, tzydnle yv vbl zktbv swvpkel.

“Pyod yzalyeu. Nys Jy² Nys Jy kp y dknjdyxl sqvld wple kd Ubkdlpl vs alqla vs psxlsdl obs kp lkvbla vbl lktbvb nbkze, vbl lktbvb kd y taswr, sa pkxrzu jdsod cu vbyv dwxcla okvbkd y bklayanbu sa kdqsaxyz aydjkdt. pbswze cl cynj. Zsw ts oykv swvpkel vs alnlkhl vbl dlo cyvnb sq rakpsdlap,” bl pyke, vbld vwadle vs vbl nsadla. “Zsw, nsxl nzlyd vbkp wr.”

“…”

The voice was directed toward a corner in front of the dirt wall. Against the light stood a girl, about fifteen or sixteen.

Her slender frame was draped in an oversized black hemp robe, worn thin in many places, more like tattered rags than clothing, with a black hood shrouding her head and face.

Her wrists and ankles, so pale they looked as if they’d snap with a touch, peeked out from the loose sleeves and pant legs, sickly white.

This frail figure was currently moving heavy bricks from the corner.

At the command, Shi Liu set down the brick and walked over.

She kept her head low, her footsteps silent, as light as a young, light-shy spirit beast. But her ankles were shackled with heavy iron chains that dragged along the ground with muffled clinks.

Yao Yi, the younger jailer, eyes reddened with drink, silently and intently stared at the approaching girl. Her dirty rags could not hide the budding grace beneath; the filthy land of the Netherworld could never produce such delicate, lamb-like fairness.

A pale white wrist emerged as she cleared the table, untarnished by the grime of the Netherworld, like the snow rumored to fall in the mortal realm.

But the Netherworld had no such snow. Nothing that pure, that clean.

Yao Yi licked his cracked lips, unable to resist reaching out.

“Stop dawdling,” the old jailer knocked his pipe irritably. “If Lao Ba comes back and the formation isn’t activated, you’ll get a beating.”

Yao Yi hesitated for two seconds and reluctantly rose. “Always the same, just useless mortal trash, every batch. And he still insists on using the formation to check every time. What a hassle.”

“Careful and thorough. That’s why he’s the warden, and you’re just a grunt.”

“…”

Yao Yi’s footsteps receded down the corridor. The old jailer leaned against the wall and soon fell into a deep snore.

Shi Liu wiped away the last drop of water on the table, lifted her sharp, pale chin, and looked toward the end of the alleyway, her pair of jet-black, crystal-clear eyes hidden beneath the black hood.

The corridor stretched long, with only a coin-sized sliver of light at the end. Too small, flickering like it might vanish with a breeze.

It was the only light. The only path out of this hellish prison.

—

The Netherworld had fifteen provinces.

The far north was the most desolate, yet ironically named Feng Province.

Feng Province lies in the far north. Toxic miasma reigned year-round, making it a lifeless wasteland where not even grass could grow. A thousand years ago, the miasma suddenly vanished overnight, making the land habitable. It was then that the governor of Feng Province built the “Ghost Prison” there.

The “Ghost Prison” held captives who were all mortals without cultivation, abducted from various regions by the jailers. Every forty-nine days, one would be selected to have the essence blood from their heart extracted, used by the governor of Feng Province to cultivate forbidden arts.

Among them, boys and girls who had just turned sixteen were considered the most suitable.

For the past hundred years, no one has ever left the Ghost Prison once taken in, and its infamy has spread throughout the Netherworld. Because of this, it came to be known as the Ghost Prison of Feng Province.

And what Shi Liu thought about day and night was escaping from this Ghost Prison.

Shi Liu was a uniquely special case within the Ghost Prison.

Three years ago, she had strayed into the Netherworld and been sold into this prison. All new prisoners had to pass through a formation to ensure they had not begun cultivating, preventing future trouble. At the time, Shi Liu’s bone age had just passed twelve, making her unfit for “offering,” so she was left alive until now.

Because she was weak and posed no threat, she had more freedom than the others, often ordered to handle chores the jailers couldn’t be bothered with.

Things like cleaning, serving food…

Or treating wounds.

“When I’ve healed up, I swear I’ll beat that black bear Fu Yuan till he’s kneeling and calling me grandpa, ow! Hey! Go easy, that hurts like hell…”

A scrawny, monkey-like boy sat on the ground, grumbling as he winced in pain, trying to push away the hooded girl who was tending to his wounds with her head lowered.

But just before his hand touched her, he hesitated.

The girl, head lowered, seemed unaware of everything around her, her face hidden deep in the shadows of her hood.

From elsewhere in the same cell, someone in a coarse prisoner’s robe snickered, “Hey Monkey, do you like her or something? How come you go all quiet and lose your swagger when she’s around?”

“Bu—bullsh*t! Like h*ll I’d fall for some ugly freak like her!”

Monkey’s face flushed bright red as he glared furiously at the one who had spoken from the corner.

The words slipped out without thought, and the moment he finished, he instinctively glanced at the girl beside him. Her hood was pulled low, and she didn’t even lift her head. Her fingers moved calmly and steadily, tying the bandage as if she hadn’t heard a single word.

It was like she truly hadn’t been listening.

Monkey grew even more irritated, his face now red as a monkey’s rump. “You hear that, freak? Don’t go getting the wrong idea. Someone like me would never fall for you, you—”

Bang bang!

A heavy wooden baton slammed against the cell door. “What’s all the racket? You all in a hurry to reincarnate?”

Yao Yi stood at the damp, moldy cell door, his gaze sweeping over the prisoners with open contempt before finally settling on the one girl with her head lowered.

“Shi Liu, come with me.”

“…”

Tightening the last strip of linen, Shi Liu rose from her spot in the corner.

It had rained the night before, and the damp prison floor was still scattered with puddles. As she turned and stood, she passed by one of them. A faint, cold gleam flickered across the water’s surface, reflecting the side of her face hidden beneath the hood—

A long, jagged scar stretched across what should have been a cold and beautiful face, winding from her brow all the way to the corner of her lips.

Like a hideous crack on a wall of pure white jade, startling and hard to look at.

That’s why they called her “ugly freak.”

Shi Liu had heard it many times.

But it didn’t make her feel much of anything. After all, this scar was the reason she could still live quietly in this hellish prison, kept from being handed over as a short-lived concubine to the wandering ghosts and warlords of the Netherworld.

Even so, despite her scar, as her figure gradually grew and her features matured into those of a young woman, there were still eyes, cold and slick like snakes, that began to coil around her, staring with unwanted attention.

As Shi Liu stepped sideways through the cell door, she deliberately turned the scarred side of her face toward Yao Yi.

But Yao Yi didn’t even glance at her. Instead, he gripped the heavy wooden baton in his hand, his expression dark, and walked toward the deepest end of the dim prison corridor. “Hurry up. Any slower, and someone over there’s going to die.”

Shi Liu pursed her lips in surprise, then quickened her steps to follow.

They reached the deepest part of the dungeon, the sky well at the prison’s core. There, Shi Liu saw a figure thrown onto the open ground, was it… a boy?

If Yao Yi hadn’t warned her beforehand, she wouldn’t have dared assume that the blood-covered, half-dead thing lying there was still a living person.

He appeared to be wearing what might have once been a white robe, though the fabric’s weave and texture were impossible to make out. His entire body was soaked in blood. Crimson, darkening to near black, the blood had spread in patterns that looked like a devil’s trumpet³ Devil’s trumpet is a poisonous, night-blooming flower often associated with mystery, danger, and the supernatural. Its dramatic, spiraling blossoms give it a haunting beauty, and in folklore or fantasy, it’s frequently linked to death, dreams, and the spirit world. The plant contains powerful alkaloids that can cause delirium or even death if ingested, making it both beautiful and deadly, which is why it’s a fitting image in dark, otherworldly settings like the Netherworld. blooming beside the blood rivers of the Netherworld, unnatural and eerie. It was impossible to tell if he had any blood left at all.

Lao Ba, the warden, and the old jailer stood nearby, watching with cold, indifferent eyes.

The old jailer, still not entirely sober, frowned and bit down on his pipe. “Why’d you bring back just this one?”

“Something happened in the northwest of Feng Province. Everyone else is dead, this one’s the only one left with a bit of breath in him,” Lao Ba said darkly, his gaze shadowed.

The old jailer’s expression changed. “What happened? For it to be this serious?”

“The governor of Feng Province is dead.”

“What!?”

“…”

Shi Liu had just approached the boy on the ground and hadn’t yet crouched down to examine him. At those words, a chill ran through her.

She froze, suppressing the urge to look back.

But beneath her hood, her lashes fluttered with shock.

The Ghost Prison was established by the Feng Province governor himself, created to support his cultivation of dark arts. Shi Liu knew a fair amount about him.

Originally, the fifteen provinces of the Netherworld were each ruled by one of the Five Ghost Emperors or the Ten Yama Kings. Ten thousand years ago, the Emperor of Fengdu mysteriously fell, throwing the Netherworld into chaos, and more than half of the provincial lords under his command were killed or crippled.

Time grinds everything down, and after ten millennia of war and turmoil, the identities of the few surviving original lords have long since faded into myth.

Even so, every current provincial governor had clawed their way to power through mountains of corpses and rivers of blood, especially the Feng Province governor. Rumored to possess the inheritance of an ancient heavenly demon, his strength was unfathomable, and he was ranked among the most powerful of all the governors.

A terrifying being, at the height of his power, dead, just like that?

Shi Liu’s face turned a shade paler. She lowered her head even further, holding her breath as she listened.

In one corner of the cell, the old jailer nearly lost his grip on his precious pipe. “The governor’s cultivation was beyond measure… did Yan Province and Gan Province join forces?”

“Unlikely,” Lao Ba said.

Whatever memory flashed through his mind, a glint of unease flickered in his hawk-like eyes beneath his disheveled hair. “It happened at the Netherworld Abyss. The surge of power lasted only a few breaths. We were passing a hundred li⁴ A hundred li is a traditional Chinese distance measurement, where one li is about 500 meters, or roughly a third of a mile. So, a hundred li is about 50 kilometers or 30 miles. away and still got caught in the shockwave, if I hadn’t reacted fast enough, you’d be picking up my corpse right now.”

“To annihilate a demon of that level in just a few seconds… not even the governors of Yan and Gan combined could pull that off. Are you sure he’s really dead?”

“I investigated. The northern edge of the Netherworld Abyss has been completely leveled. The governor’s soul is utterly destroyed, no chance of survival.”

The old jailer was stunned. “His soul obliterated in a few seconds? How is that even possible?”

“If I had to guess,” Lao Ba narrowed his eyes, “someone big from the mortal realm came down. Either one of the grand elders from the great sects, or the head of the Shi clan himself.”

“—”

Kneeling beside the blood-covered boy, Shi Liu had just begun to peel back his bloodstained robe when her fingers suddenly trembled.

Yao Yi noticed and looked down. “What’s wrong?”

“…”

After a brief pause, the girl on the ground murmured quietly, “He’s too badly injured. He’s dying.”

“Then let him die and toss him out when he’s cold,” Yao Yi replied with a frown of disgust.

“I’ll try again.”

Shi Liu reached for the wooden box of medicinal herbs nearby. Though her earlier reaction wasn’t entirely about the boy’s condition, she hadn’t lied, he really was on the verge of death.

His meridians were completely severed, there was no sign of life, and his body was cold to the touch.

If not for the blood on his clothes still being damp, she would’ve believed he’d been dug up from a grave.

Even so, Shi Liu began applying herbs to stop the bleeding. She desperately wanted to live herself, and couldn’t just sit by and watch another life fade away without doing something.

“Still breathing? Tough little b*stard.”

Lao Ba and the old jailer headed out of the sky well, glancing down at the boy as they passed. “He’s not part of the batch we brought in this time. I picked him up outside the Netherworld Abyss. Probably just happened to be passing by and got caught in the battle. Still, he’s in better shape than the ones I brought, at least he’s got a breath left, good enough to hand over and call it done.”

The old jailer lit his pipe again, frowning. “Picked up? You sure he’s not a problem?”

“What kind of problem?” Yao Yi scoffed carelessly. “He passed through the formation, no cultivation at all. Just another useless mortal. Looks like he won’t last long anyway.”

“…”

Kneeling on the ground, Shi Liu was unfastening the boy’s robe, trying to examine the wound on his chest.

But the dried blood had stuck the fabric to his injury, making it hard to see clearly. When she pulled the robe open, a fresh stream of blood suddenly oozed out from a savage wound beneath.

Shi Liu was closest, and her eyes suddenly froze.

Amid the vivid red blood, she thought she saw, perhaps imagined, faint golden flecks of light shimmering through.

“What’s there to look at in a dying man? If he’s beyond saving, just toss him into the Corpse Sink. The carrion hounds down there are starving,” Yao Yi sneered as he stepped closer.

Shi Liu quickly pulled the boy’s robe closed, covering the wound before he could see it.

“He can still be saved,” she said softly, head still lowered, using her hooded cloak to hide most of the boy’s upper body.

Yao Yi narrowed his eyes and stepped forward again.

“Yao Yi, Lao Ba’s calling you,” the old jailer returned, knocking his pipe against a nearby stone ledge without lifting his gaze. “Quit stalling and move.”

“Tch…”

Yao Yi grumbled in annoyance and turned to leave.

Silence returned to the dreary cell, only broken by the faint whistling sounds of the harsh mountain wind slipping in from the cracks high above.

Shi Liu waited a long time, listening carefully to make sure no footsteps echoed outside. Only then did she shift slightly and sit back on her heels.

“Are you awake?” she asked in the softest voice, looking at the blood-soaked boy whose face was so battered it was barely recognizable.

“…”

“Don’t be afraid. They’ve gone.”

“…”

After saying those last words, Shi Liu silently gazed at the boy on the ground. His eyes were closed, framed by long, dark lashes that lay lazily against his pale, cold skin. Despite the severity of his wounds, he looked as peaceful as if he were simply asleep. Shi Liu wondered, beneath those lids, would there be a pair of truly beautiful eyes?

She wasn’t wrong.

Because in the very next moment, those eyes opened.

They were more stunning and crystal-clear than any piece of glazed glass Shi Liu had ever seen in the mortal realm. They were reminiscent of the snow-capped mountain lakes of the far north, glimmering with faint light beneath their icy surface, touched by golden sunlight.

But glass was cold.

And so were his eyes.

In an instant, blood-streaked fingers shot up and clamped tightly around Shi Liu’s slender neck, knocking her hood back and stealing the breath from her throat.

She was slammed against the jagged stone wall, the boy’s grip crushing her windpipe.

His tightening fingers choked the life out of her. Death crept in like a thin, icy blade, slicing slowly and mercilessly into her fragile throat.

The boy leaned over her, his figure blocking out the light.

He stared down at her with those beautiful but piercingly cold eyes, eyes like black-glass gems, clear and deep, yet utterly devoid of warmth.

As if silently telling her—

In the very next breath, he would kill her.

—

TLN: Hello everyone! Welcome to our new novel. Chapters that are very long will be split into parts. Thank you for understanding, and we hope you guys will enjoy this story with us!

P.S. Thanks to Vico for the novel pickup suggestion!