Ren Jiang's fragment is in that white villa.
Zhang Xiyu drifted in a light sleep, haunted by memories that bled into dreams. He found himself reliving the days when he was just a ghost. That day, he had been searching desperately for an exit, if one even existed. He crept through dim-lit hallways, his footsteps soundless. He tried mapping the place in his head, but every path led to another dead end. At times, he feared he was wandering in circles—until the strange variety of wall motifs and ever-shifting artwork told him otherwise.
The only constant was the portraits.
Nearly every hallway was crammed with them. Most featured the same woman. Her pose changed from painting to painting, some bordering on the obscene, but her expression never wavered: that same unsettling smile, that same glassy stare.
When it wasn't her, it was a man. Even beneath fine suits, Zhang Xiyu could see it—greed gleaming in the man's eyes.
Some portraits depicted them together, tangled in scenes thick with lust.
Only later did he learn who they were—Aika and her husband, Ren Jiang.
After long hours of exploring, Zhang Xiyu could no longer hide in the alcoves and was exposed to a small room. At the centre stood a cubic glass case glowing with a surreal, electric blue. Inside: the fragment.
He was drawn to it instantly.
The light pulsed. His ghostly form vibrated in response. It seeped into him—tendrils of vitality licking at his translucent skin, coaxing him back to life. For the first time in death, he remembered what living felt like. His skin began to blush with colour again.
Come closer…
A whisper curled into his ear. The distance between him and the fragment felt unbearable.
I must consume it. It belongs to me.
"What are you doing, boy?" a bell tinkled behind him.
Zhang Xiyu tried to ignore Aika's voice, but another force coiled around his head and wrenched it toward her.
Her presence was wrong. Where the fragment's energy was warm and invigorating, hers was bitter, festering. A pressure crashed down on him, trying to bend him to his knees, but Zhang Xiyu resisted. While it felt unbearable at the beginning, he was soon getting used to it. He brushed off her coercion like dust on his coat and turned back to the fragment, hunger burning in his chest.
Aika's smiling face cracked with panic. She leapt and grabbed his shoulder. The scene immediately changed; they were no longer in that mysterious room. This teleportation snapped Zhang Xiyu out of his trance. It seemed to him that he was in a large bedroom. On the velvet bed lay an unmoving body, its eyes wide and glassy.
The dream dissolves as Zhang Xiyu opens his eyes, lifelessly. He needn't relive the rest of the events that perspired. He rose from his bed, walked to his desk, and pulled out parchment. He scribbles a few lines, seal them in an envelope, and waits.
A knock soon arrives.
"Enter." He picks up the letter and walks towards the visitor.
"Here. Send this out to Yutao."
Renhu takes the letter from him, slipping it in his robes. He had thought long and hard about telling Zhang Xiyu of Yutao's strange movements, but suspicion alone is dangerous. Until he saw the truth with his own eyes—saw whether Yutao had truly turned against them—he couldn't bring himself to break the news.
So, he stands silently awaiting new orders as Zhang Xiyu sits at the corner of his bed.
"How is the purge going?"
Renhu replies. "It is going well, my lord. I believe that the demons have detected our movements. But because they are not sure of the cause, they have turned cautious."
"They rarely possess or contact the mortal beings and are laying low in some recesses. So lately, all we get are the unseemly youkai."
"I see."
Zhang Xiyu pats the bed, motioning for Renhu to sit beside him.
"You've done an impressive job stabilizing the mortal realm."
"But—" Renhu's eyes shine with expectation. Zhang Xiyu interrupts, expression flat. "I'm ordering you to stop."
Renhu blinks, incredulous. "What?"
Zhang Xiyu pats him on the shoulder. "Pause the purge."
"Why?"
Zhang Xiyu waves a hand in dismissal. "Not important. The real question is—" He leans forward slightly, voice low. "Do you have the confidence to take them all at once… when the time comes?"
Renhu, despite the rising heat of frustration in his chest, gives the question the gravity it demands. "You're giving me permission to manifest my full constitution in the mortal world?"
"Yes."
Renhu narrows his eyes. "And until the final purge is declared, the demons will continue infiltrating?"
"In large numbers."
"Then why not just wipe them out now, while their numbers are still manageable?"
Zhang Xiyu sighs, as if the idea physically bores him. "Because that would bring peace to everyone, wouldn't it?"
Renhu's voice is taut. "Yes. Yes, it would."
"But I do not wish for peace."
"…What?"
Renhu shoots to his feet, unable to stay seated. "This entire mission is a charity for those noble bastards who can only cry over their incompetence."
Zhang Xiyu adds smoothly. "And to feed our voracious army."
"Sure!" Renhu barks, pacing faster. "That's what held your reputation together in the Ten Courts! And now- now you want to stop it?"
"You still haven't refused me." Zhang Xiyu's tone is cool. "Also as your creator, I am well aware of your capabilities."
He stands, eyes locking with Renhu's. "You will lead the final purge. When I say so."
Renhu studies him, trying to decipher whether the evasion is strategy—or pure laziness. Eventually, he gives up.
"I can handle it myself. Their skulls will crack like nuts beneath my palms." He mumbles.
He turns toward the door, sulking. "Fine. I will break the news to the rest. Tell them their rations are being cut."
"I never said they'd go hungry." Zhang Xiyu's smile is slow, gleaming with something unreadable.
"Tell them… it's time to hit the local streets."
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Hōetsu's fate unravelled like a rotten spool over the next few days. The trials dragged on for endless, punishing hours as the once-unified court cannibalized itself. What had been a single, surging ocean now splintered into warring tides. One side pushed to strangle Hōetsu's lifeline, meanwhile, the other side fumbled through ways to keep it afloat.
Nonetheless, Ren Jiang was very clear about one thing: He would not sink with Hōetsu.
As long as the evidence kept pointing at his wife, the Heavens would not intervene. In fact, The Heavens too, circled like vultures over the notoriously infamous princes. They had caught one a few weeks ago and they would not mind catching another.
If Ren Jiang slips even slightly, there will be no possibility of a recovery.
His most devoted supporters couldn't save Hōetsu—but they could, at least, shove the blame squarely onto Aika.
"The eldest prince is the epitome of noble character."
"As the first son, the lord knows his responsibilities. Both towards his younger brothers and the citizens of hell. He wouldn't go out there muddying his name by running a glorified brothel."
"Bah! That philanderer is far from responsible! Have I not seen him since he was a babe?"
In such fashion, the debate ran its twisted course, until the Day of Judgment arrives. The panel is assembled: the kings of the Ten Courts. Lord Enma, notably, was absent.
The three princes, flanked by the core ministers, sat on a dais just below the nine kings. Surrounded by this parliament stood Aika. Like a lowly criminal, she is tied in chains. Her usual charm and glamour now reduced to shame. Worse still, her own husband stood among the accusers, his finger joining the pointed tide against her.
She watches him, lips curled in contempt, as he slips neatly out of the spotlight and shoves her into it. And on that front, he isn't wrong. Ren Jiang has been meticulous. Every transaction, every document, every asset—carries her name. And the idea?
It was all her too.
It had stung before—when he took the credit for Hōetsu's rise, smiling sweetly while others called him the architect. But it was her. She was the one who built the veins through which information and money pulsed like warm blood. She made a pit for her preys to land into. She constructed the Eden of debauchery and he merely feasted on the apples.
And now that the garden lay in ruin, Ren Jiang brushes the dust off his robes and walks away—as if it were all a mild inconvenience. Now, when it's time to pay.
The ministers tear her down but she could not just give up. Her softened gaze rises to the highest platform and locks eyes with the seventh king – Taizan. The keeper of the complete registry of human deeds.
All the while not knowing what his own granddaughter was up to.
The fearsome king is also a fearful grandfather. He fears for Aika's fate. When he happily gave his granddaughter away to the eldest prince of hell, he had no reason to worry. She should have been in the best hands, right?
Lord Taizan sighs. There is no point to delve in regret now.
Smuggling and unauthorized torture of human souls in the name of entertainment, this sort of thing was last done in the Kaigan Pit. But that open exhibition of injustice had ended under the threat of Heaven. And now that Lord Enma, the king of justice returns, no one would dare think of such 'entertainment'.
As expected, the kings reach their verdict swiftly. A sentence of two centuries. All the while, Lord Taizan keeps his head low Whatever shame he bore, he would not let it end here. His eyes flick to the first prince, who looks troubled himself.
He simply must dig his granddaughter out of this hole.
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He Bolin absently fiddles with the sleeves of his formal wear as he stands at the door. This time, he'd learned—his left hand, with its gaping hole, was neatly hidden under black gloves. Behind him, the court is clearing out when someone taps his shoulder. He turns to find Ren Jiang's listless gaze fixed on him.
"Jiang Ge."
"How've you been?"
Ren Jiang looks at him as if trying to discretely dissect him. "I feel sick of it all."
He steps closer to He Bolin. "You were a frequent patron of Hōetsu. How are you doing?"
He Bolin mirrors his flat tone. "After that scare, I don't have the balls to party anymore." He gives a half-shrug. "These days I just drink alone in my stupid house like a good boy."
Ren Jiang chuckles at his petulance. It feels like ages since he last laughed. Of course it can't be him who sold me out.
His men had searched He Bolin's room—nothing suspicious, nothing clever. And a vile bastard like him wouldn't have risked staying the night if he knew about the raid. Clearly, he ran away.
"You had any trouble getting away?" Ren Jiang asked.
"Hmm?" Bolin straightened up. "Not at all. I do it all the time when their husbands show up."
Ren Jiang laughed louder now. Any lingering doubts dissolved. This simpleton would never run me down.
He Bolin only offers a foolish grin, and Ren Jiang, so soothed by the act, never even notices the strange, stiff way Bolin's gloved fingers curl at his side.
"Hey! Didn't you talk to Jin Niu about this?" He Bolin hisses, his face twists in frustration as he jerks his chin toward the Prime Minister.
"That dotard. Why couldn't he just keep his mouth shut?"
Ren Jiang feels his temper spike. He has half a mind to join He Bolin in tearing the old man a new one. He growls. "I fucking did. He- "
He stops himself, dragging in a breath, jaw clenched. "This time he strangely would not budge at all. "
Ren Jiang steps closer, lowering his voice. "He says the evidence is airtight. I just need to figure out which crazy fucker busted me." His tone is calm, but beneath it, rage simmers like a ticking bomb.
He Bolin's expression twists with regret. "That place was our heaven in hell. The women. The drugs. Entertainment was just top-notch. I made half my fortune betting on the ring of sudden death. And the orgies?"
He Bolin's voice trembles as he rests an arm on Ren Jiang's shoulder. "Who in their right mind would kill our joy?"
As he spoke, He Bolin subtly turns him toward a figure across the room. Ren Jiang's mind is clouded with silent rage as his vision absently tunnels on the man walking across the room. He watches Liu Xue walk towards Jin Niu. The two of them deep in conversation.
His thoughts snap into focus and the pieces click.
"Liu Xue." A whisper leaves from his lips while He Bolin's slowly curl into a satisfied smirk.
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"I think that he is starting to suspect you."
Jin Niu steals a quick glance of Ren Jiang, whose eyes keep darting over at Liu Xue.
"Yes. I can feel his revolting gaze crawling up my back," Liu Xue said with cool indifference, brushing it off with a shrug. "Shall we continue this conversation somewhere more... appropriate?"
Jin Niu gives a curt nod and leads them away from Ren Jiang's eerie scrutiny. They enter a small room with traditional seating. They sit on the ground on opposite sides of the low table.
Liu Xue starts. "Hao Enlai. He betrayed me at that party."
Jin Niu didn't react. He'd already heard the story from Zou Yaozu. He simply gave a slight nod for Liu Xue to go on.
"That man was one of my closest confidants. And now he aids my greatest enemy. Do you know what that means?"
Jin Niu stiffly concludes. "Your advantages have turned against you."
Liu Xue suppresses his agitation, clenching his fists, nails biting into flesh. Jin Niu observes him with quiet intensity. He remembers the first time he had met Liu Xue. A plump boy who looked like a big snowball, clutching his mother's leg in the cold hinterlands. Her majesty, she was the eighth king's daughter. Spending her entire life away from the capital. Just Liu Xue and his mother, alone in a villa in the cold hells. Living peacefully until the day it all came to a horrific end.
Jin Niu has to remember that pity and warm feelings no longer have a place between them. In front of him is a man who is dreadfully cold from the inside. Just another ambitious brat who thought he could outmaneuver him.
What? So only Ren Jiang got to be despicable?
"Wouldn't Hao Enlai disclose the whereabouts of your clandestine army to Lord Ren?"
Liu Xue's arrogant composure cracks. The atmosphere turns static, pricking him like a hunter's scope. Was his final hope already slipping through his fingers?
"I- "
"Why do I even bother?" Jin Niu chuckles, dry and pitiless. "Soon enough, Lord Ren will know you orchestrated his downfall. He'll run down your army himself."
"Then you'll have nothing—no army, no leverage against your brother."
Liu Xue's shoulders remain tense as if bracing for a final blow. The man is right. He has no allies. A mysterious hand has used him as a pawn to dismantle Ren Jiang's power. Now that their goal is met, Liu Xue alone is left to deal with the fallout. Yes, over centuries, Liu Xue built his covert force deep in the cold hells. To the court he was simply there to observe its daily operations, the excuse was perfect.
And yet, Jin Niu seems to be aware of it this entire time.
"Were you the one who sent me the evidence?" Liu Xue's eyes shake with ice cold incredulity. His thoughts start drifting away like a kite cut from its string. He has been played. Reduced to a bird in a cage, fluttering for scraps of hope.
Then comes the answer.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Jin Niu frowns, as if the question is entirely out of place.
The tension slackens. Liu Xue exhales deeply; a thin layer of frost spreads over the floor with his breath. It doesn't seem like an act; Jin Niu did not send him the evidence. Even so, someone has used him. It doesn't matter because for now there's a more pressing concern.
The frost spreads like a quiet tide, swallowing the room, only leaving Jin Niu untouched.
"How long have you known?" Liu Xue asks, his voice sharp.
Jin Niu returns to the topic with a sigh. "In the beginning, your performance was flawless. The prince is merely fulfilling his responsibilities. Your frequent trips to the cold hell were not at all suspicious. Not until they became a little too frequent."
"Right around the time when the army battled Zhang Xiyu by the Last Fortress."
His eyes go wide. "You've known for a century."
"I also knew about Hōetsu." Jin Niu adds with a small smile.
He knew all about their illicit activities. And yet, he didn't make a move until now. Until he had someone to back him up. Which means that the one on trial could have very well been him. It could have been the other way around.
As the ten courts scrambled to pledge allegiance to one prince or the other, Jin Niu merely waited— certain the princes would come crawling to him instead.
Liu Xue lets out a cold, bitter laugh. "All this show of how you have our best interests in heart, while you wait for one of us to pull the trigger."
He leans forward, eyes narrowed. "You enjoy this, don't you?"
The smile drains from Jin Niu's face as he looks down at the young prince. "Choose your words wisely, Third Prince. Let not my years tutoring you go in vain."
The prince falls silent, but his eyes bore into Jin Niu—seething, conflicted, barely resisting the urge to curse the old minister aloud.
Jin Niu continues, unfazed. "You came to me because you still find me reliable."
Liu Xue doesn't respond—because it's true.
"I do have your best interests at heart," Jin Niu says. "So, let's speak plainly. You are days away from being plundered."
He smiles faintly. "And I'm happy to offer you a deal. One that will save your militants."
"What?"
Jin Niu stays relaxed under Liu Xue's probing gaze. "You know who Ren Jiang won't be allowed to attack?"
"The king's army." Liu Xue replies softly.
Jin Niu's lips part, about to speak, but Liu Xue cuts in. "Which is why I've been pursuing the Blue Lotus."
Contrary to Liu Xue's expectations, Jin Niu doesn't fidget at the confession. He bursts into laughter—loud and mocking. "You've got some nerve. Speaking of treason in front of the Prime Minister."
"It's not treason if I'm playing by the rule." Liu Xue says, unshaken. "And the rules say the Blue Lotus crowns its owner."
"Owner?!"
Jin Niu barks a laugh so sharp it echoes. "Let that whimsical dream fly, your highness." His expression turns grave as he scoffs. "One can never own the will of hell."
"In any case, you will never find it. Even if Ren Jiang spares you for a millennium."
"Then how—" Liu Xue grits his teeth. "—does that mortal bastard have it?"
Jin Niu has no energy to left to explain Zhang Xiyu's absurd reality to this pettish kid. If he gets into it, this long day will never end. "Surrender your army to the government."
"That's your grand idea? I might as well go out there and slaughter them myself."
"The court cannot act against its own soldiers. But soon, Hao Enlai will expose your bases to the military. Unless you have more troops than the entire kingdom—"
"—I suggest you donate them."
Liu Xue's face darkens. Just how did it come to this? Moments ago, he'd stood triumphant, having struck a blow against that hateful bastard—and now, it's his turn to bleed.
"Cheer up" Jin Niu says, clapping him on the shoulder as he walks past, boots cracking the frost on the floor. "I'll even promote you to General."
He pauses at the door, glancing back. "Here's another suggestion."
Liu Xue looks up, bitter and resigned.
"Take care of the fragment."
His brows furrow as he watches Jin Niu leave him alone in this cold room. "Fragment?"