"These underworld (hell) coins—Fellow Daoists Paper craftsman and Decomposer, each of you take five million. Fellow Daoist Zhao, the ghost officers you brought along, each can take three hundred thousand. Consider it a little something for drinks," Yi Tianxing said casually.
What is money? It's just a damned number. Now that Eternal Coins exist, these underworld coins mean nothing to him—they're just digits. Distributing them didn't hurt in the slightest.
On the contrary, this served as a subtle means to win over the ghost officers.
This kind of people-oriented strategy was something he always kept in mind. Whenever the opportunity arose, it was worth putting into practice. Doing so effortlessly and naturally was what made one a true ruler. Besides, he had no use for the underworld coins himself. Keeping them would be a waste; better to distribute them for greater benefit.
Only by doing this could maximum utility be achieved.
The ghost officers who had followed him in immediately lit up with excitement upon hearing this.
Sure, money might be mundane—but it works. Everyone has a use for it. Especially since these weren't ordinary coins, but underworld coins that greatly boosted cultivation. Naturally, no one would refuse such a gift. They accepted it without hesitation and without the slightest guilt.
It was accepted wholeheartedly, with no pressure.
Of course, splitting the coins was just a side matter. Once spoken, Yi Tianxing would certainly honor his word. Distributing wealth not only won hearts but also ensured that these people wouldn't get any funny ideas about the other treasures in the vault. They'd gotten their share, and that changed their mindset. Their attitude toward everything else shifted too.
"So many treasures!"
Nannan blinked in awe, exclaiming in delight.
The treasure vault was fitted with racks and shelves for storing various items, all neatly arranged. The Red-Robed Ghost King had apparently been quite the neat freak. Everything was categorized meticulously: spirit herbs, treasure materials, magical artifacts, divine weapons, cultivation techniques, pills, talismans, and more.
Such orderliness could only be achieved through personal preference and effort.
"What a beautiful flower!"
Nannan approached a shelf labeled Spirit Herbs, staring at a jade box that held an exquisite blossom—radiant and crystalline like jade, with intricate bone-pattern markings that gave it the appearance of a flawless work of art.
"That's a White Bone Flower, a rare blossom that grows in the underworld," Zhao Li explained with a smile.
White Bone Flower:Grows in mass graves, ancient battlefields, or deep in the Netherworld. It takes root on bones and blooms into a flower of extreme yin nature. It has remarkable effects on tempering bones, adhering like a parasite.
Grade: Earth-tier Supreme.
A precious and rare spirit herb.
"What's that grass?" Nannan asked, pointing to another plant.
It looked like ordinary grass, but the leaves were shaped like human hearts—a curious sight.
"That's Demon Heart Grass. Best to stay away from it. It's not something to mess with," Zhao Li replied, clearly well-versed.
Demon Heart Grass:Grows in regions saturated with demonic energy. It absorbs desires and delusions from the world, developing demonic traits. Once matured, it's terrifying. Consuming it can cause a kind-hearted person to turn demonic, falling into deviation and becoming a demon. For demon cultivators, it can forge a Demon Heart and enhance demonic cultivation. It induces powerful illusions.
Grade: Heaven-tier High.
"These are all great treasures. They still seem vibrant—if transplanted carefully, they might survive," Yi Tianxing nodded in agreement. He couldn't help but wonder whether these underworld herbs could survive in his dantian space. Many spirit herbs required very specific environments to thrive. Moving them to the world of the living often resulted in incompatibility—and sometimes immediate death.
"These are ghost-realm herbs. They rarely survive in the world of the living—unless placed in areas rich in yin energy, like mass graves or ancient battlefields," Zhao Li explained.
The group continued to explore the treasure vault. Indeed, the Red-Robed Ghost King's collection was vast and impressive.
There were also a large number of unique heaven-and-earth treasures—over a hundred at a glance. Many were rather niche or cumbersome to use—chicken ribs, one might say—tasteless yet hard to discard. But being exotic treasures, they each had potential for use.
Some of the treasures were actually architectural artifacts, capable of significantly enhancing the foundation of the Great Yi Dynasty.
One, in particular, stood out: a Lighthouse.
Yes—a literal lighthouse. According to the accompanying information, it could emit brilliant light in the darkest nights, serving as a guiding beacon over vast distances.
The lighthouse's magical function included serving as a coordinate marker. Anyone who could see it would instantly gain the spatial coordinates of its location. Intriguingly, it could even attract certain special lifeforms, though which ones remained unclear. Additional functions would only become apparent once it was properly set up.
There were other architectural treasures as well—like a Cemetery and a Museum.
The cemetery, at first glance, was self-explanatory—a place for burial. But it was far from ordinary. This cemetery held vast internal space, capable of storing countless tombs. Strangely, any corpse buried within would remain perfectly preserved for ten thousand years—lifelike and unchanged. The site even had corpse-nourishing properties, making corpse transformation or a second life possible.
Its most powerful function lay in its ability to inter a cultivator whose lifespan was nearing its end. Once buried, the cultivator would enter a mysterious sealed state—not dead, not alive—like many ancient powers sealing themselves in divine sources, awaiting awakening.
This cemetery offered a sliver of hope—a chance to live a second life.
Though the odds were low, possibility made all the difference. That alone gave it extraordinary value. It was, without question, a rare and irreplaceable treasure.
"With this cemetery, we could even offer services to outsiders. As long as death isn't instantaneous, the cemetery can preserve a person in a suspended state—not alive, but not gone. Perhaps someday they'll revive. Hope is everything."
A thought flashed through Yi Tianxing's mind.
And frankly, he could already see the market potential.
Even before the Great Fusion of Worlds, people were eager to buy burial plots. The demand was endless—everyone dies eventually. It was a seller's market. If you didn't buy, you still needed one eventually. No escaping it.
He could already envision the day when Great Yi's cemetery would be filled with ancient experts from various races, all hoping to lie down in eternal stillness—waiting for rebirth.
Especially those powerful elders whose lifespans were ending—they would do whatever it took to enter. In that preserved state, they might have a shot at rebirth. If not, they could still await a descendant's fortune—perhaps the gift of a divine pill or an immortal herb like the Reincarnation Pill, capable of reviving them.
That sliver of hope was everything.
After all, reincarnation was risky. There was no guarantee of regaining past memories or breaking the confusion of rebirth. Many cultivators, worried about their legacy or their descendants, would rather bet on suspended life. This cemetery offered a completely new option.
"Now this is a treasure. The Red-Robed Ghost King truly wasted its potential. In my Great Yi, however, we can fully realize its power. That's what makes it truly perfect."
Yi Tianxing had already envisioned the cemetery's future use. Without hesitation, he took it with him. This treasure was no less important than any of the top-tier architectural wonders of Great Yi.
Then there was the museum, known as the Museum of Oddities.
It could store all manner of strange objects. Within its domain, items could gradually develop a kind of spiritual awareness—animation—and undergo bizarre transformations. However, they could not leave the museum; doing so would cause their spiritual spark to fade away.
"Amazing—another architectural treasure. Once built, it'll definitely add something new and exciting to Xuanhuang City."
Yi Tianxing's eyes suddenly caught on another treasure, and he couldn't help but smile.
It was an amusement park. Yes—an amusement park, named Dream Amusement Park. It was clearly born of the world's collective longing for joy and play.
Though lacking in attack or defense, its value in entertainment was immense. Winning hearts and minds required giving people happiness. The park could stabilize public sentiment and boost loyalty. A massive win.
What's more, the Dream Amusement Park could absorb the world's willing energy and spontaneously create new and wondrous facilities. It could even conjure attractions from pure will—astonishing indeed. Properly cultivated, it could become a signature attraction of the Great Yi Dynasty, a flagship symbol of prosperity.
Some things transcend age, race, or background.
Joy is universal—you just need to find the right spark.
After touring the treasure vault a while longer, Yi Tianxing did not linger. With a wave of his hand, he swept the entire vault's contents into the Hongmeng Heavenly Emperor Tower, not leaving a single treasure behind.