Thick fog choked the air as the spirit carriage creaked slowly along an ancient, pitch-dark path. All around, the world lay in deathly stillness. Now and then, shattered gravestones flickered past like fleeting ghosts in the mist.
Inside the carriage, Li Fang sat silently, his gaze deep and cold.
Clutched in his hand was a small black command token. His fingers, strained from gripping it too tightly, had turned pale.
Beside him, Bai Xiu looked anxious, her voice low and urgent:
"Master, the Youming Platform has fallen into chaos! If we don't leave now, it'll be too late!"
Li Fang didn't respond. His eyes remained fixed on the fog ahead.
In the distance, a black temple loomed faintly through the haze, exuding a heavy, suffocating presence.
The spirit carriage halted before its gate.
Bai Xiu hesitated, reaching out to stop him, but Li Fang was already stepping out. He strode forward and pushed open the massive doors without hesitation.
—
Inside, the hall was vast and silent. Only a single dim lantern flickered, casting long, distorted shadows.
Beneath its sickly light sat an elderly man in a black robe and judge's cap, perched behind a stone platform as he flipped through weathered scrolls.
His frame was thin, his face gaunt, and a chilling stillness emanated from his sunken eyes—cold and merciless.
This was Judge Cui, keeper of the Book of Life and Death, and one of the underworld's most powerful arbiters.
Li Fang stepped forward and bowed low with utmost respect:
"Subordinate Li Fang pays respects to Lord Judge Cui."
Judge Cui didn't look up. He continued leafing through the pages, his hoarse voice drifting eerily through the hall:
"Li Fang. Why have you come?"
Li Fang lifted his head, voice steady and resolute:
"I seek to purge the blood disaster and restore clarity to the Underworld."
Judge Cui paused.
He slowly looked up, his gaze like two ancient wells—deep, dark, and freezing.
He stared at Li Fang for a long moment, then let out a strange, mirthless chuckle.
"Purge the blood disaster?"
"Heh…"
"Do you not see? The blood you fought, the chaos you braved… it was all nothing but a dream."
—
Li Fang froze, a chill creeping into his chest.
Judge Cui stepped down from the platform.
With every step, the world around them trembled slightly—like a torn stage curtain fluttering in the wind, revealing the barren ruin beneath.
Li Fang looked around.
The grand Youming Platform was collapsing. Cold Yuan, Bai Xiu, the ministers of the Three Divisions—all faded into a blur, dissolving like smoke.
The fierce battles, the tangled conspiracies, the blood and thunder—it all ebbed away like a receding tide.
Only rot remained.
Only ruin.
—
"You died long ago," Judge Cui's voice rasped like a ghost's wail.
"Caught in the blood disaster. Betrayed by your comrades. Imprisoned in a dark abyss. Your soul shattered, your mind lost."
"This dream was but your final struggle to hold on."
Li Fang staggered back as the illusion around him twisted and warped.
He was back in that cramped, pitch-black cell, wrapped in filthy prison rags. Chains, cold as ice, bound his limbs.
The walls were damp. The food was rotten. And the nights—endless, silent, suffocating.
—
He remembered.
He had lived it.
But he had refused to surrender.
So deep in despair, he had woven a dream for himself—one where he was still a Judge, where he could still save the Youming Platform, where he could still fight back.
—
Judge Cui stepped closer, voice like a blade of frost:
"Wake up."
He raised a finger and tapped Li Fang's brow. A thread of cold light entered his forehead.
In an instant, Li Fang felt his mind shatter—like heaven and earth overturning.
The entire illusion collapsed in a deafening silence, disintegrating like ash in the wind.
—
When Li Fang opened his eyes again, he was back in the freezing, damp prison.
No voices.
Only the sound of rats gnawing at moldy cloth in the corners.
The air was thick with blood and mildew.
His body ached. His clothes were in tatters. The shackles still held fast.
There was no Bai Xiu. No Cold Yuan. No Judge Cui.
Only him—and the endless darkness.
—
Footsteps echoed outside.
A prison guard pushed open the door, shot Li Fang a mocking glance, and sneered:
"What's wrong? Still dreaming?"
Li Fang murmured to himself:
"A dream…?"
The guard laughed, dropped a bowl of cold, leftover gruel, and left without another word.
The iron door slammed shut.
Li Fang was alone again.
Alone in the endless dark.
He looked down at the chains on his wrists, his fingers trembling slightly.
After a long while, he closed his eyes and leaned silently against the wall, letting the darkness swallow him whole.