My Enemy Became My Cultivation Companion-Chapter 899 - 533: Cherished (Bonus 3-in-1)

Mist seeped from the cracks in the ground, forming ghostly shadows lifting the palanquin. The palanquin was set down in front of the grand hall, and King Yan's figure emerged from behind the curtain.

The flames from the bronze lamp flickered dimly, illuminating the steps before the hall, while the expansive and eerie Dragon Robe brushed past the Xiezhi statues standing on each side.

The Three Halls Yama, King Songdi.

He ascended the steps and slowly entered the hall. Just then, in the northwest corner, black water seeped through the crevices in the bricks, from which a hand protruded, holding half a Jade Tablet.

That was Yin Yijian's Jade Tablet.

The Jade Tablet rose into the air, landing in King Songdi's hands. Without a glance, he grasped it with his five fingers, shattering the remaining half into dust.

The servants in the hall shrank back instantly.

The ghost servants waited silently for a long time and only moved forward after seeing King Yan take his seat, swiftly tidying the ground.

The Book of Life and Death lay open on the desk, the ink on the page from the 17th Year of Xian De gradually fading, and the existence of Yin Yijian as the Judge of the Investigation Department and even as a soul was slowly being erased.

"A Judge nurtured over centuries..." King Songdi murmured, "is not even as worthy as a small City God."

The tassels of the coronet trembled slightly, casting shadows across his brow.

King Songdi lightly tapped his fingers against the desk, and after a long while, he slowly closed his eyes.

The dragon robe billowed, the overflowing gloom gradually settled, and King Songdi found his heart at peace, feeling the touch of a gentle cool breeze.

In a drowsy haze, someone approached from beneath a green tree, leading a mischievous lion that roared at King Songdi, but a soft hush from the person made the lion crouch down and obediently lick the fur on its paw.

King Songdi slowly opened his eyes, but the man was forever shrouded in a warm glow, making it difficult to see clearly, though he had grown accustomed to it.

"Yin Yijian is dead, his soul scattered," King Songdi sighed, "The White Lotus Sect won't be rampant for much longer."

The man replied with a faint smile, "No fear, there's still barely enough time."

King Songdi glanced at the lion and instinctively reached out, but the lion bared its fierce face, prompting him to withdraw his hand, replying slowly, "The person who killed Yin Yijian is a living Yin Official not seen for a hundred years, and he has inexplicable ties with King Chujiang."

The man gave a noncommittal "Oh," playing with a green leaf between his fingers, as though this living Yin Official and Yin Yijian were insignificant to the grand scheme.

King Songdi contemplated for a while before saying: "I detected the scent of True Martial on him."

Snap.

The green leaf at the fingertips shattered abruptly.

The man turned around, his expression rarely grave.

After a long silence, he spoke: "Find an opportunity, bring him before me."

King Songdi was taken aback, not expecting this person to place such importance on the living Yin Official, saying: "Back then, True Martial eradicated the Twelve Ghost Palaces, forging the Twelve Magical Swords that are now divided among the sects. The aura I sensed is hardly more than that, at most, he carries one Magic Sword, and the person is exceptionally troublesome. If you wish to capture him, it will require a corresponding price. This living Yin Official is indeed a hot potato."

"No matter how hot to handle, it's still a potato."

The man's expression remained calm, yet his tone was unmistakably firm.

"Now that Mother of Non-Birth is about to arrive, the various races of the Outer Barbaric Land are reviving, tearing open Secret Realms everywhere. If we don't seize this opportunity, once the heavens collapse at one corner, Dharma Decline will be upon us. By then, no matter how divine True Martial's sword remains, can it truly expel the ancient demons?"

King Songdi still couldn't understand, saying: "Will it truly fall to this? The Buddhist Sect's prediction of the Dharma Decline was due to rampant selfish desires among beings, leading to depravity and corruption, the withering of virtue, and the establishment of wrong. Yet the world now is not lacking in virtue, far from this doom."

The man sighed gently, slowly saying: "In vast Heaven, not so its virtue. Deliverance and famine, destruction to four nations. Leave them with sin, yet submit to their wrongs. Helping those without sin to fall and perish…"

These were ancient poems, with King Songdi having been a Confucian scholar of the Tang people named Yu Qin in life; the poetry was engraved within his soul. The poem lamented the heavens not bestowing just grace, only calamity, letting the guilty escape while the innocent suffer and fall...

The lament of the ancient forebears seemed to echo in his ear, and King Songdi was momentarily silent after his reverie.

Thunder and rain, both are heavenly grace.

Only that one person suffices to shield against storms.

King Songdi had no words of refusal, bowing slowly to the man with cupped hands.

The man laughed gently, not with a knowing, symbolic smile, but with an unexpectedly genuine and sincere smile.

The scene before King Songdi gradually receded; the body beneath the dragon robe became tangible. When he opened his eyes again, the person was gone, leaving only the cold Yama Hall and numerous cowering ghost servants in view.

King Songdi had lately often closed his eyes, and each time afterward, his face softened significantly.

The ghost servants did not know whom King Songdi had seen or what he had experienced,

only that such dreamlike scenes had become increasingly common lately.

"All directions honored lords, numerous as dust and sand, transform forms in worlds of ten directions, universally aid and save heavenly persons, gather spirit and virtue, together save the guilty..." 𝗳𝚛𝗲𝕖𝕨𝕖𝗯𝚗𝚘𝕧𝕖𝗹.𝗰𝗼𝕞

...

In the city, the disturbance was significant, startling Yin Tingxue and Donggong Ruoshu. The flames burned near the sky, appearing almost close at hand.

Yin Tingxue was greatly anxious, worried for Chen Yi's safety. Once the commotion gradually subsided, she pinched her fingers for divination, finding that Chen Yi was probably unharmed, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

In the past, she had not been without worry. In the time just after leaving the pavilion, she had worried; at that time, how could one say, there was concern in the heart but not genuine sincerity, more like observance as a concubine to care for him out of duty, knowing he was her husband, so she should care a bit, but then quickly realizing he forced her to be a concubine, after worry, there was an emptiness in her heart, like early spring's overlapping cloudy mist in the sky, suddenly pondering on worrying for him, who would worry for her instead...