Chapter 1120: Chapter 622: Chen Zunming?! (Double-Length)

Yin Tingxue most appreciated his kindness, and she thought, though her husband was a bit bad, she had not married the wrong person.

Chen Yi mocked himself with a sigh, realizing he was now trapped with the Little Fox.

In the Underworld, they had been walking for nearly a month, yet had not reached the end. It wasn’t because there were no exits, but because there were too many, each path leading to another, inevitably causing confusion.

He had been following the direction indicated by Qin Xuzhi and had used his Heavenly Eye to cast a divination.

Thus, it seemed Qin Xuzhi viewed the Infinite King as a maggot attached to the bone, while the Infinite King was also wary of Qin Xuzhi and the Qin lineage. Three centuries of overt and covert strife had made him highly vigilant, turning the already complex terrain into a massive maze.

Chen Yi disliked the twists and turns of mazes, preferring direct paths.

Currently in an unknown part of the forest, he didn’t know where to begin unraveling the situation.

While pondering, Chen Yi looked up and saw one soul after another drifting aimlessly from afar. Recalling Qin Xuzhi’s description of the Infinite King’s "gathering of demons," he suddenly realized something.

He immediately shared his thoughts with the Old Saintess, and the well-informed elder quickly guessed what was happening.

The Southern Border, vast as it was, was merely a remote province of Great Yu, lacking the wealth and populace of the Central Plains. With numerous Buddhist temples and few people, natural demons were scarce. In such barren conditions, gathering demons was exceedingly difficult.

The only way was to seduce people into becoming demons.

These drifting souls seemed aimless, but upon closer inspection, they were like ants following a trail of sugar.

Finding a method, Chen Yi did not hesitate and secretly followed the souls.

Another dozen or so days passed.

The endless mountains finally came to an end.

It seemed they had reached a basin, where the mountains suddenly sloped sharply downward, marking the boundary between the Southern Border and Bashu.

Chen Yi looked down, seeing crisscrossing ravines ranging from dozens of feet to mere inches, swallowing and spewing multicolored mists, adding to the mystery.

Souls in a state between life and death poured into dark holes like flocks of sheep.

He had found the right place—this was the demon cave.

The demon cave within the Underworld.

Without hesitation, Chen Yi drew his sword and leaped inside.

Passing through the mists and moving through layers of darkness, after an unknown time, Chen Yi finally found solid ground.

Beneath his feet was heavy, murky water and scattered rocks. Raising his head, he saw rows of columns, prompting him to raise an eyebrow.

Was this a... palace?

The wood was unexpectedly swollen, stone surfaces cracked, and damp banners hung down. One could vaguely see the opulence of the past, but the entire palace seemed to have been soaked in water, swelling immensely.

As Chen Yi looked around, he saw the distant souls drifting toward a certain direction. Listening closely, there was the sound of drums and horns, along with faint Buddhist mantras.

It was Buddhist music, distinct from that of the Central Plains, more ancient and mysterious.

Performing a simple illusion technique, Chen Yi followed the music, the drifting souls forming a long queue, squeezing through a small door into the palace.

That was the direction of the music; only this small door was open.

Chen Yi promptly entered. Though the music disturbed the heart, it had little effect on him, especially since Qin Xuzhi had previously given him three offerings.

Entering through the small door and walking down a long corridor, Chen Yi saw near the main entrance a few pale blue lights, as if guards were holding lamps, examining each soul passing through.

The Netherworld Ghost Fire illuminated people’s spirits.

Chen Yi slightly raised an eyebrow. Magic was not his forte; he only knew enough to get by, and illusion techniques were even more rudimentary. He might not be able to fool these lamp-holding guards and might be exposed.

What if exposed?

Then it would be time to fight.

Soon, Chen Yi reached the door, where a black-robed guard approached with a lamp, its eerie blue light shining on his face.

The guard scrutinized him for a long while.

Chen Yi remained calm, his hand slowly reaching toward his sword hilt.

The guard raised his hand,

waved him through.

Chen Yi was slightly surprised, but didn’t look back and followed the queue deeper inside.

.........

Like a turn of fortune, soon after crossing the door, the scene before him brightened suddenly, filled with majestic palaces, bustling with activity. Magnificent buildings with carved beams and painted rafters, maids and attendants in light, flowing garments gliding by. They carried jade plates and golden cups, smiling faces, their movements light as smoke.

The lively scene filled the sight, exotic fragrances filled the nose, a rich scent permeating the air, neither orchid nor musk, sweet and cloying yet with a hint of mustiness, like cosmetics buried underground for years, intertwining into a peculiar, intoxicating aroma. The sound of flutes and strings was melodious and amazing, not of the human world. Deep in the grand hall, dancers swayed gracefully to the music, their lithe figures matching the rhythm of the heart’s beat.

This scene was the pinnacle of opulence, the zenith of hustle and bustle, seemingly a dance of Heavenly Persons, a Paradise.

Yet, Chen Yi’s heart sank bit by bit.

The spirits, aimlessly queued and stumbling in, found the "Paradise," the confusion and struggle on their faces quickly replaced by an obsessed, fervent joy. Like moths to a flame, they rushed toward the tempting food and drink, forever remaining there.

Chen Yi took a deep breath, imprinting the scenes in his mind, as his goal was reconnaissance.

Surveying the terrain, he found a secluded corner, leaping toward the palace’s interior.

Nimbly maneuvering over the swollen, warped architecture, his gaze like lightning, rapidly memorizing the illusory splendor’s layout, the distribution of guards, while sketching a mental map of the demon cave’s interior. Though large, the palace bore a grotesque bloated and warped sense from soaking, with tilting columns and sagging eaves, feeling like navigating through the guts of a giant creature.

Suddenly, as he gracefully turned a corner of an eave, Chen Yi abruptly halted.

It wasn’t the sound or sight of someone—it was someone tailing him.

The presence was well-hidden, whisper-like, blending into the shadows like ink, keeping a distance that made it nearly undetectable.

Yet one thing, no matter how well-concealed, couldn’t escape Chen Yi’s senses: Sword Intent.

Chen Yi remained composed, pausing momentarily without turning back.

Just as he resumed his step, a sword light shot out from the shadows!

The sword was fast, precise, fierce!

An exceptionally skilled swordsman had sensed danger from Chen Yi’s composure and struck first.

As the sword light approached, Chen Yi twisted his waist violently, appearing to lose weight, spinning aside at an incredible angle! The blade almost grazed his clothing.

Chang!

Simultaneously avoiding it, Chen Yi’s sword was unsheathed. No earth-shattering Dragon Roar, just a sharp clash of metal, a flash of sharp brilliance reflecting toward the sword’s source with precision.

Chen Yi saw it was the guard from the door.

Ting! Ting! Ting!

In a flurry, a rapid sequence of sharp sounds burst above the twisted, swollen palace, as two figures dashed among the staggered eaves and bloated beams, swiftly leaving bright and dark afterimages.

The duel went on for several moves, without a winner, when suddenly the guard exclaimed:

"Chen Zunming?!"

Min Ning?!