# 366
**Chapter 366: The Six Heavens of Luofeng**
"If I hadn’t lost the Soul-Severing Blade, I wouldn’t be in such a sorry state," Baili Pangpang muttered as he ran, mourning the loss of the blade that had vanished into the earth with Shen Qingzhu. Artifacts capable of harming souls were rare—he’d only had the one.
Behind the four of them, ghosts gathered in growing numbers, surging toward Cao Yuan like madmen. Their wails brushed past the group like a cold wind, carrying cries of sorrow, pleading, and… fury.
“Please, save us!”
“Release me, release me! If this goes on, I’ll become a vengeful spirit too!”
“No… I want to transcend. I want to re-enter the cycle of reincarnation!”
“You can do it. Why won’t you release me? Why?!”
“Please, even if you won’t release me, at least release my child. I beg you…”
“…”
Cao Yuan’s scripture of transcendence, offered at the cost of his own cultivation, was irresistible to these spirits. Especially to the lonely ghosts trapped in this city for nearly a century after the disappearance of the nether gods—their longing for release and rebirth had become obsession.
Cao Yuan was their only hope.
“Turn right!!”
At another fork in the road, Li Deyang shouted again.
Baili Pangpang followed, panting. “Uncle Li, how much farther to the gate? At this rate, we’re gonna die here!”
Li Deyang blinked. “What gate?”
The four of them stumbled mid-stride.
“What?!” Cao Yuan whipped around. “Weren’t you leading us back to the bronze gate?”
“It’s pitch black. How would I remember the way?”
“Then all those directions…”
“I was just guessing.”
“…”
We’re so screwed.
Baili Pangpang nearly coughed up blood. He couldn’t believe they’d been following Li Deyang’s gut instinct this whole time.
But it wasn’t really Li Deyang’s fault. The ghost city was pitch black. They had only their flashlights to guide them, and with the horde of spirits chasing them, they’d long since plunged deep into the city. There was no way to see the path back.
Ahead, another fork.
“Left!!” Li Deyang resumed his blind-guessing mode.
“Screw that—this time, we go right!!”
Baili Pangpang had just spoken and started to turn when a swarm of pale paper figures surged from the right path like a white tide.
“Shit—listen to Uncle Li!”
He skidded to a halt and bolted left with the others.
The paper soldiers moved faster than the ghosts. In moments, they overtook the spirits and closed in on the group.
“【Yaoguang】!!”
Baili Pangpang slapped his chest. A golden light condensed into a blazing sword that slashed behind them—straight at the paper soldiers.
But every paper figure folded instantly, flattening into dimensionless sheets that slipped past the strike. The golden arc swept through empty air, not harming a single one.
Boom—!!
The sword beam crashed into a nearby hut, collapsing it in a cloud of dust. From the smoke, the paper figures re-emerged, clinging like maggots on bone.
Just as the four were about to be overrun, a cluster of vast black halls loomed ahead.
The structures glowed with a dark luster, built from the same material as the city walls. Their style was eerie, yet majestic—oppressive in their grandeur.
“They’re catching up!” An Qingyu glanced back at the paper figures only a hundred meters away.
Cao Yuan stared at the halls, a chill crawling down his spine. Their aura made his skin crawl.
But they had no choice.
“Charge in and slam the doors!” he yelled.
They sprinted with everything they had. Baili Pangpang slammed both palms against the vermilion gates. They swung open weightlessly. The four tumbled inside; Li Deyang and Cao Yuan each threw their weight against a door and heaved them shut.
The paper figures drifted up just as the gates sealed—no gap remained.
They hovered outside, recoiling a few meters, then scattered.
Inside, Baili Pangpang gasped for air, sweat dripping. “What the hell are those paper things? They’re not like the ones in the abandoned lumber yard.”
An Qingyu nodded. “Their faces are more detailed—almost alive. And… I swear I’ve seen those faces before.”
“Same here,” Cao Yuan said heavily.
Li Deyang exhaled, then swept his flashlight across the hall.
The space was enormous; the beam revealed only a patch of ceiling. Gray-green dao-script covered the black rafters like a starless sky. Colossal pillars—each thick enough that five men couldn’t encircle them—lined the sides, likewise etched in dao-script.
“Where… are we?” Li Deyang frowned.
“There was a plaque above the door, but I couldn’t read it,” Cao Yuan said.
“Zongling Qifei Heavenly Palace,” An Qingyu said quietly. “I saw it.”
“Zongling Qifei?” Li Deyang scratched his head. “Sounds familiar…”
“One of the Six Heavenly Palaces of Luofeng,” Cao Yuan murmured. “In Great Xia Daoist myth, the underworld is ruled by the Emperor of Fengdu, beneath whom are the Five Direction Ghost Kings. Within Fengdu stand six divine palaces—the Six Heavens of Luofeng—each guarded by a nether deity. Zongling Qifei is one of them.”
“You mean this is Fengdu?” Baili Pangpang’s eyes bulged. “No wonder it’s crawling with ghosts. If we’ve broken into one of those palaces… are we in danger?”
“Hard to say. But every nether god vanished a century ago. These Six Heavens are only empty halls now,” Cao Yuan replied, gazing into the gloom.