Ordered to Marry by the High King - Chapter 32

But no matter how loudly the retreat drum beat, there was no retreat to speak of.

There were still five kilometres to go before reaching the Underworld King’s Court. Though ghost fires burned brightly behind the bronze gates, it remained desolate—no grass grew underwater, and beyond ten feet, it was as dark as soaked ink.

Zhuoxue felt uneasy all over. She knew clearly that the most important thing right now was to stay close to Longming. At this moment, never mind staying within arm’s reach—she’d be happy to cling to Longming if she could. But her humanoid form was still far too large. If she had to cling, it would be best to do so in her fox form. That way, even if she were unfortunately discovered, others would only notice the elegant and commanding tiger demon high king, and not her tiny fox self. If her companion was discovered, she would find a hiding place; if her companion took a beating, she would run. With this arrangement in place, she had nothing to fear.

Zhuoxue pressed close to Longming’s back, nervously rising on tiptoe to whisper by Longming’s ear, “Now that we’re underwater, fox fur won’t float around. Can I turn back into my fox form?”

“Go ahead and change,” Longming replied, not thinking too much about all the twists and turns involved.

The girl suddenly transformed into a damp fox. Her fur drifted with the water’s current, and at first glance, she looked like an oversized water rat.

Longming pointed into the distance. “After passing through the Underworld King’s Court, drinking the Forgetting Brew, and bathing in the Spirit-Cleansing Soup, only then can one know which path of reincarnation they are meant to take.”

The daring fox quickly climbed onto Longming’s shoulder. As the saying goes, once familiar, things become easier—now she stood as still as a city guard, without the slightest hint of guilt or awkwardness.

Longming turned her head slightly, calmly glancing at her shoulder. The fox perched there had a noble air, clearly full of mischief.

The fox spoke in human tongue. “High King, now that I’m in my beast form, snuggled by your ear, I’m not worried about mishearing anything. Plus, we can advance and retreat together—wouldn’t you say this is a brilliant move?” The girl’s voice was as airy as a bird’s, and perhaps because it carried a bit of pride, it sounded as if it had hooks—no bird could compare.

Longming paused slightly, sure now that the fox was indeed full of bad ideas. Thus, she replied half-heartedly, “Ingenious.”

Still, the fox had some manners. She bowed and started chewing on her paw, not wanting to soil Longming’s ceremonial robes.

As she gazed into the distant darkness, she said, “Is it really necessary to drink the Forgetting Brew before reincarnation? Can we skip it, or maybe just take a few sips?”

“Only if you bypass the Underworld King’s Court and head straight to reincarnation,” Longming said in a quiet, slow voice. “But without going through the court, you won’t receive a life register. And without that, you won’t know which path to take. Choose the wrong path, and you won’t be able to be reborn.”

“There are exceptions though, aren’t there?” The fox’s eyes sparkled. “Like me.”

“Correct,” said Longming.

Zhuoxue pieced it together. In her previous life, she had never entered the Underworld King’s Court, so she never drank the Forgetting Brew. Because of a seal placed on her, she hadn’t been blocked even when she took the wrong path. That dream of phoenix towers and dragon halls—or the lands full of starved corpses—those were all scenes from her past life.

After chewing her paw for a long while, Zhuoxue finally remembered she was underwater now. Any dirt on her body had already been cleansed by the River of Forgetfulness.

“Then how do we get the life register?” she asked, pausing. “Don’t tell me we have to force our way into the court?”

“Charging in won’t work.” Longming narrowed her eyes. “I’ll make the King open the gates and welcome us.”

Zhuoxue lowered her voice. “Don’t tell me you and the Underworld King are old acquaintances?”

As a fox, she figured she was just benefitting from the connection. But if a demon and a ghost really knew each other, why would they be trudging along like turtles?

“Old acquaintances?” Longming chuckled. “If you mean ‘acquaintances due to past events,’ then perhaps.”

Zhuoxue thought that made sense.

Longming continued, “There are life registers for all three realms within the Underworld King’s Court. Once inside, the registers may resonate with one’s soul. If not, we’ll have to go through them year by year and place by place to find your current life.”

“And then?”

“The record for this life will include a ‘sequence’—in it will be your birth date from the previous life, and the place of birth.”

Zhuoxue didn’t sound too hopeful. “According to Aunt Lan, one year’s register was destroyed and rewritten. It’s unlikely to be exactly the same as the original.”

Her previous life surely belonged to the destroyed volume.

Cats sweat from their paws, dogs from panting, but foxes? Foxes sweat from their ears.

Zhuoxue was a bit nervous—her fur was damp with sweat. “If my previous life was rewritten, and now I’m reborn under a seal, there might not even be a sequence for me in the register.”

Longming’s expression darkened.

“Then how do we find it?” Zhuoxue asked, sweating profusely.

“There is one thing,” Longming said, calm and unhurried, “that even someone like Tianji cannot erase, only conceal. They can cover it once, but not twice.”

“What is it?” Zhuoxue asked, puzzled.

“Merit and blessings,” said Longming. “Heaven uses these as the basis for all beings’ reincarnation. If your current life was meant to be lived in Kunlun Yaojing, then in your previous life, you must have cultivated only virtuous deeds recognized by Heaven.”

“Then wouldn’t it work to find the one who did the most good in the past century?” Zhuoxue’s eyes sparkled. “We could look into people’s lives and see whose kindness the common folk benefited from most.”

“Correct. The karmic ties of all beings in the three realms are intricately linked—pull one, and you tug at the whole,” Longming said calmly. “Especially for those with profound virtue and blessings. The number of people connected to them is only greater, not less. To hide every last trace would require rewriting every life register stacked like mountains in the Underworld King’s Court.”

“Even oxen and horses wouldn’t take on that job,” said Zhuoxue, stunned. “With that many life registers, it would take ten thousand years to finish copying them all.”

Longming sneered. “Tianji knew it was impossible, so he only burned one volume. The life registers are as vast as the sea of smoke—if no one becomes suspicious and investigates, then this matter sinks like silt to the ocean floor, never again to see the light of day.”

Zhuoxue felt a chill at the thought of those densely packed characters in the registers. She sighed. “Wouldn’t that take forever to go through? A single place would have tens of thousands of people. One person’s life is full of countless small events—how could we compare each and every one?” She paused. Her fox tail suddenly went stiff. “If we want to look through the registers, don’t we need the King’s permission?”

Longming scoffed. “If you barge into someone’s home and try to take their valuable possessions, what do you think—they’ll agree or not?”

Zhuoxue thought to herself, of course they wouldn’t. So when she stole chickens, she did it silently—at most, she’d pay a few copper coins from the mortal world in compensation.

But chicken-stealing was considered vile in the mortal world, and even in the Demon Realm, it certainly wasn’t respectable.

The fox straightened her back and said, “But that’s not right. If we get caught, wouldn’t that be horribly embarrassing?”

“If the King doesn’t find out,” said Longming, completely at ease, “then there’s no embarrassment to be had.” She spoke as if she ruled the place—that the moment she arrived, it became Lingkong Mountain.

The fox wholeheartedly agreed, but if Lanhui were to hear this, she would definitely scold them for being wicked and unruly.

Unruly?

This was perfectly righteous!

“What are you laughing at?” Longming asked.

Zhuoxue cleared her throat and said in a lowered voice, “According to Aunt Lan, I’m a celestial soul with a demonic body. My demon power shouldn’t be weak. If I can lift the seal along the way, wouldn’t I be able to run rampant across both realms?”

“What kind of rampant?” Longming teased. “Charging in upright, and getting dragged out sideways?”

Zhuoxue’s round eyes widened slightly. “Pfft, pfft, pfft! That’s bad luck!”

“Well, we are in the Yellow Springs right now,” said Longming, voice flat and unconcerned. “It’s pretty unlucky already.”

“Are we really coming back from this?” Zhuoxue was still young—she didn’t want to throw away her bright future here.

“We are,” Longming replied with certainty.

***

When they first entered the River of Forgetfulness, it felt like carrying a thousand pounds. But the further they went, the lighter it became. Now, they could even drift along with the current.

The moment they felt light, five kilometres passed in the blink of an eye. Before long, they saw a dense cluster of ghostly towers and pavilions.

In front of the ghost town, there was a dark tower, which rose from the ground to the sky. Unfortunately, it was deep underground, and no matter how high it was, it could not reach the sky. 

Before the ghost city stood a pitch-black tower, rising from the ground into the sky. Unfortunately, this was deep underground—no matter how tall it reached, it would never touch the clouds. From either side of the tower, walls painted with ghostly faces stretched out, enclosing the entire city and the seven cycles of reincarnation within.

Zhuoxue squinted and managed to read the inscription on the plaque hanging from the tall tower—Underworld King’s Court.

The towering structure loomed silently. It was even more intimidating than the gates of Lingkong Mountain—like a slender ghost, it overlooked the entire Yellow Spring Palace in silence. A person beneath it was no more than a tiny mole cricket, easily crushed in a pinch.

The entire city was silent as death. Walking through it, not even the whisper of wind could be heard. Cold and desolate, it seemed like a forgotten ruin sealed away for ages.

This was nothing like what Zhuoxue had imagined. She had thought the ghost city would be lively, like a bustling human world marketplace. But looking around, there wasn’t even a trace of ghostly soldiers.

Still, she did see flowers—clusters of them blooming along the edge of the River of Forgetfulness. No wonder celestial guests would travel by boat to admire them.

The flowers were just about to wither, not yet fully faded. At their center, a flickering flame still glowed. The petals curled inward, cradling the tiny fire.

They resembled soul flames—thus, they were called soul blossoms.

“Underworld King’s Court, Lingzong City,” said Longming.

Zhuoxue stopped looking at the flowers and stared at the Underworld King’s Court. The space before the gate was empty. On the doors were the same ghostly faces as on the city walls. The bronze doors were tightly shut—what lay within was a mystery.

Zhuoxue’s heart pounded like thunder. Her tail draped over Longming’s other shoulder, turning herself into a living scarf. At first glance, it looked like a guardian stance. In truth, she still needed Longming to protect her. She whispered, “How do we get inside? There’s no more water ahead—we can’t just flow through the gate anymore.”

Longming stepped slowly out of the water. The water spirit within her was not yet extinguished, and though ghostly energy still clung to her, she didn’t look like a spirit seeking reincarnation—more like someone arriving to challenge the house.

The fox followed her out. Just as she was about to shake her fur dry, she noticed the water droplets rolling off her body one by one. In an instant, she was completely dry, her fur fresh and clean.

Longming flicked her sleeve lightly, shaking off the water droplets that hadn’t yet fallen into the River of Forgetfulness. She looked toward the distant tall tower and said coolly, “I’ll pretend to send a message on behalf of the Heavenly Palace and lure the Underworld King out of the court. When that happens, you go through the gate.”

So they weren’t planning to sneak in through a crack—they were going to walk in openly.

Even with the greatest courage, Zhuoxue wouldn’t dare walk through the gate alone. Her ears twitched, afraid she had misheard.

In the mortal world, this would be a capital offense.

“What about you?” Zhuoxue clutched Longming’s robe. “We came here together—why not go in together?”

But then again, that wasn’t ideal either. If there were traps or hidden weapons inside, Longming might be able to escape, but she herself might not.

A sudden idea struck Zhuoxue, and she changed her tone. “How about this—I’ll keep watch outside. If I shout ‘the wind’s tight, retreat!’ you come out immediately.”

Longming was silent for a moment before shaking her head. “No need to keep watch. From here to Kunlun Yaojing is more than 50,000 kilometres. If the Underworld King doesn’t become suspicious halfway through, they won’t be back anytime soon.”

Zhuoxue broke into a cold sweat. “But how are you going to fool the King into going to Heaven? Kunlun Yaojing’s edicts aren’t so easy to forge.”

She’d never seen one herself, but she knew that an imperial edict from Yaojing wasn’t some flimsy sheet of paper from the mortal world.

“Want to find out?” Longming gently patted the fox’s tail. “Then first get off my shoulder.”

As soon as Zhuoxue landed on the ground, she transformed into her human form and, in one motion, raised her arm to catch the loose fox hairs drifting in the air.

In the corner of her eye, golden light flashed.

Longming’s appearance and attire changed drastically—from her ink-colored silk dress to the formal robes of a Yaojing official. Her once-striking features became plain and unremarkable. Her long hair turned jet black and was neatly tied up. The transformation spell was so convincing, Zhuoxue nearly took a step back.

Longming turned her palm over, and a scroll glowing with golden brilliance appeared in her hand, as if infused with celestial light from Heaven itself. So practiced and natural—it seemed more like this was her true form.

After a while, the fox grew eager to try as well, wanting to transform into a celestial being just for fun. “What about me?”

“I’ll lure the King out. You immediately slip into the court. Turn left to retrieve the Judge’s Token. Turn right and you’ll see a shrine. In front of the shrine is an eternal lamp—take the eternal lamp and go upstairs,” Longming said in detail.

“Me?” The fox pointed to her own nose.