Chapter 836: Exploring the Secrets of Nine Serenities

Chapter 836: Exploring the Secrets of the Netherworld

Night Netherworld indeed had no bedchamber or divine hall, but at least she possessed a dwelling separated from the outside, surrounded by twisted space to isolate it, leaving the inner space as a "cave abode"—in mortal terms, it was Night Netherworld's boudoir...

Guards stood around the space, all withered skeletal remains, some faintly exuding extremely powerful auras. Who knew how many ancient demon gods had been turned into corpse puppets by Night Netherworld, silently guarding the four directions. Beings of the caliber of the early-seen Venerable Doro and Blood Fiend were countless here.

Thus, the environment, already steeped in gloom and deathly silence, gained an added layer of sinister evil, with death permeating the air, truly taking on the appearance of a villain's stronghold.

From this mere tip of the iceberg, one could glimpse that Night Netherworld's hidden strength was still formidable... The deaths of Annihilation and Nether Fiend were but a drop in the bucket to her. Or perhaps, in her hands, death was never truly death; the corpses were retrieved and reused.

Thinking this, Zhao Changhe and the others, observing from the shadows, couldn't help but shiver inwardly. If this was true for her subordinates, then for her enemies who fell into her hands, it would truly be a fate of wishing for death yet unable to die, forever cast into hell.

Breaking into a place like this was no easier than their previous assault on the Night Palace; perhaps even harder, given how severely Mist's power was restricted here. Fortunately, Zhao Changhe didn't need to force his way in—he used the Soul-Capturing Mirror to teleport through space, bypassing all guards to reach the interior.

"Ying Wu's techniques are truly handy; no wonder he's burrowed through countless holes over the years." Zhao Changhe sat leisurely by a tranquil pool, dangling his feet in the water.

This place looked familiar—this pool was where he had once seen Night Netherworld bathing, clearly her most private sanctuary.

Cui Yuanyang also sat beside him, washing her feet, astonished: "I thought this water was something special... but it's so clear and refreshing, rich with spiritual energy. No wonder Night Netherworld bathes here; soaking in it for cultivation is quite beneficial."

Mist said, "This pool was famous in the last epoch, nurturing the Primordial Black Water Flood Dragon, which would lay waste to ten thousand miles whenever it entered the mortal realm. Later, that beast was slain by Night Nameless herself, marking the most crushing defeat Night Netherworld suffered in her struggles with Night Nameless... After that, the pool was purified, losing its dark and deathly intent but retaining the purest energy. If you wish, Yuanyang, you could bathe here as well; it would be quite beneficial."

Cui Yuanyang happily jumped in: "I'm all sticky anyway; I've been wanting to wash for a while..."

Mist turned her head away, unable to bear watching.

Who wasn't sticky? She couldn't let Yuanyang know about this—the void turning sticky would be a laughingstock.

Zhao Changhe coughed twice and asked, "You never came here in ancient times, yet you're so familiar with it?"

"I naturally know of such rare treasures of heaven and earth. As for what Night Netherworld later used it for, only you, peeping, would know."

"..."

"However, the so-called purification might also be because Night Netherworld has soaked in it for ages, absorbing all the dark power. Her cultivation differs from ours; such things are poison to us but a great tonic for her. Conversely, the pure spiritual energy we love might not appeal to her."

Zhao Changhe felt a bit conflicted. Sometimes he had a sense of disorientation—knowing that Night Netherworld was exactly this kind of villainous boss, yet her face, with its charming smile, didn't match at all.

Mist also said that in this era, Night Netherworld smiled more and showed more expressions, a stark contrast to what she had known before... What was the root of this? Was it because Night Netherworld was approaching truth? Or was it influenced by the Soul-Capturing Mirror?

Cui Yuanyang was saying, "Speaking of Night Netherworld, she's no different from an ascetic—no enjoyment whatsoever. What's the point of living so long?"

Mist said, "For primordial demon gods, the meaning of birth is merely the embodiment and representation of laws. Personal desires are indeed very faint... including me."

Cui Yuanyang sighed, "I always feel you're a bit pitiful."

Mist: "..."

What the hell—an ancient demon god at the Imperial Realm being called pitiful? Little girl, do you know what you're saying?

But looking back now, whether pitiful or not, there was at least nothing worth cherishing.

While the sisters talked, Zhao Changhe remembered he was here to uncover Night Netherworld's secrets. He stood up and searched around. Indeed, Night Netherworld was a true ascetic—she had none of the things women typically had. He scoured the entire environment: no dressing table, no jewelry or hair ornaments. Recalling her appearance, she always wore black robes, nothing else, with a bare face.

In fact, she didn't even have spare clothes; she only had that one black robe—a dark dharma garment that came with her at birth, valued not for its looks but for its power.

Having searched the entire pool area, aside from a prominently placed Soul-Capturing Mirror and the pool water, there was absolutely nothing worth mentioning.

"Could it be that she doesn't even hoard treasures or medicines? Is this what it means to be the embodiment of dark stillness? That's absurd." Zhao Changhe scratched his head in disbelief. "Or does she have another place for storing treasures?"

"Brother Zhao, come look at this," Cui Yuanyang called from the pool. "Isn't there something carved on the stone by the pool?"

Zhao Changhe was startled and immediately ran over. He touched the stone by the pool where Cui Yuanyang's head rested; it seemed to have strange patterns.

But he didn't recognize these patterns. Upon careful inspection, there was no energy reaction—not a restriction, nor a treasure. It looked like idle carvings.

Or perhaps a special script, recording some unknown history.

Mist also came over, gently tracing the patterns with her fingers. After a long while, she said, "These are primordial inscriptions—a kind of script. I can only recognize a very small part, as I wasn't born with heaven and earth; by my time, this script had already been lost."

"The Night sisters should recognize it?" Zhao Changhe stroked his chin. "So, could this be something Night Netherworld casually recorded while bathing? Or was it carved by the Heavenly Dao long ago, and Night Netherworld placed it here to ponder daily?"

"Both are possible," Mist said. "It's hard for me to decipher here. Let's make a rubbing and study it outside."

"Alright." Zhao Changhe took out a blob of energy jelly, made a rubbing of the inscriptions, and patted Cui Yuanyang's head. "Yuanyang, you're a lucky star; you've made another contribution."

Cui Yuanyang was quite pleased: "Wait until I finish washing; I'll help you search more. Maybe I'll find something else."

Zhao Changhe smiled and ruffled her hair. This little girl, without his shared vision, couldn't even see anything, yet she had found the inscriptions. Perhaps she truly was blessed.

He said no more and walked straight to the Soul-Capturing Mirror. The mirror was conspicuous—a life-sized mirror placed by the pool. It seemed that after obtaining it, Night Netherworld often looked into it after bathing.

Clearly, this mirror was a piece cut from that stone wall, with the same effect, but because it was only a fragment, its power was much weaker. Zhao Changhe could face it directly and resist the soul-draining effect, though he had to make a conscious effort. From this, he inferred that Night Netherworld could face it without any sensation, completely unharmed.

When he set aside the effect of soul-draining and looked into the mirror, what he saw seemed to be "the truth of the heart."

He had seen it too many times, having gone through various heart demons in the demonic illusion, and was somewhat "tired" of it, feeling nothing. The images that flashed repeatedly were the same as before—besides the well-known desires, there were weakness, dependence, retreat, and other things that outsiders wouldn't associate with Zhao Changhe.

This time, after looking longer, he saw something new: inner brutality, the urge to kill, and so on.

Zhao Changhe watched quietly for a while, then murmured, "This is what it means for everyone to have two sides. Having these negative emotions makes one a complete person. As long as they're buried deep and not allowed to dominate and corrupt, one remains a perfectly normal person. There's no need to shy away from having these things. The demonic realm merely magnifies them to cause harm or control; it's nothing special."

Mist walked over to stand beside him, looking into the mirror, and nodded. "Yes."

"By that logic, is Night Netherworld truly different from ancient times because she saw some truth about her own heart?"

"Perhaps," Mist said, somewhat lost in thought. "Anyway, I didn't have these before, but now I do... though it has nothing to do with this mirror. It's because I've come to love and hate."

"You've descended from god to mortal... Whether your power remains the same or not, your heart has gained many weaknesses that a god never had. Do you regret it?"

Mist said softly, "I descended for you; I don't regret it."

Zhao Changhe wrapped his arm around her waist and gently kissed her forehead.

Mist pouted slightly: "After hearing that, this is your only reaction?"

She was even acting spoiled now... Zhao Changhe chuckled, then shook his head. "I was thinking about something..."

"What?"

"I'm wondering... could this also count as 'killing the ancient demon god Mist'?"

Mist's heart tightened. She turned to look at Zhao Changhe, and he turned to look at her. Both their eyes flickered with a hint of indescribable complexity.

If this was also what Night Nameless wanted?

They were silent for a moment. Finally, Zhao Changhe said, "I don't think Night Nameless can calculate that much... Remember when we stole the lotus platform? That strike of hers was real; if we had been a bit weaker, we'd have died right there. It shows she didn't even anticipate we would steal the lotus platform. She once admitted that regarding my karma, she hadn't succeeded in manipulating much. There's no reason for her to lie about that. She's not all-powerful; otherwise, she wouldn't need me. There's no need to overestimate her."

Mist nodded. "I was just thinking... Let's look at it from another angle. If this does count as 'killing the demon god Mist,' perhaps it means some things don't have to be done exactly as Night Nameless envisioned. Maybe there's another way."

They exchanged a smile and continued to embrace, gazing into the Soul-Capturing Mirror.

The mirror kept flashing images of everyone's true inner thoughts; just watching for fun was entertaining.

Zhao Changhe laughed. "You know, using this thing to occasionally examine yourself, to see if there's something in your heart you haven't realized, is quite useful. It's fitting to call it the Mirror of Truth and Illusion; no wonder someone like Night Netherworld could be misled."

Mist watched the scene in the mirror of Zhao Changhe carrying her as they fled through the demonic illusion, her eyes tender. "Do you know, when I first faced the stone wall and fell into demonic possession, it wasn't just because of what I saw about Night Nameless... Later, when you rewound time, the causal blade cut too quickly; you didn't see the other thing."

"Huh? What?"

"At that time... I saw that I liked you. I felt it was shameful and didn't want to believe it... At least half of my demonic possession was because of that."

Zhao Changhe burst out laughing. "So your first reaction after falling into demonic possession was to hit me, ignoring that someone was attacking you. So you really wanted to murder your husband."

Mist turned her head away. "I've already given myself to you; what more do you want?"

"Have you given yourself to me?" Zhao Changhe tightened his arm around her waist. "I haven't used this body yet..."

Mist quietly stepped on his toes, twisting hard, her voice seeming to come through gritted teeth: "Yuanyang is still bathing behind us. Have some decency, will you?"

Zhao Changhe, thick-skinned and sturdy, cared little for her stepping on him; his right arm tightened around her waist, and Piaomiao instinctively leaned into his embrace, held tightly.

As Zhao Changhe slowly lowered his head to seek her lips, Piaomiao's eyelashes fluttered, and she obediently closed her eyes.

After all, Yangyang was no stranger...

The newly formed body's cherry lips were soft and sweet, her pearly teeth slightly parted, secretly moist, an experience infinitely better than the previous soul form.

Piaomiao slightly opened her hazy eyes, vaguely catching sight of the Soul-Capturing Mirror beside them, which reflected nothing but her own entanglement with Zhao Changhe.

This was the taste of first love's sweet nectar, the heart always yearning to cling to one's lover... that "Yangyang is watching from behind" was nothing but a coy refusal that belied true feelings.

It even revealed that her earlier protective attitude before his other wives was merely jealousy, a declaration of sovereignty.

Truly, she had completely descended into mortal ways... Whether or not Ye Wuming had foreseen this, at this moment she had no regrets.

After a long while, their lips parted.

Piaomiao raised a finger to Zhao Changhe's lips and whispered, "Alright... Yangyang is really here. If you want to do anything, I... I'll wait until Yangyang is asleep, then I'll be with you."

Zhao Changhe hesitated, holding back some thoughts he was too embarrassed to say. Piaomiao was pure as a blank slate in some matters; even if she saw his group of wives, she wouldn't imagine that they had long been playing all sorts of combinations. Given the bond between Piaomiao and Yangyang, what was there to avoid? It was only a matter of time...

Just as he thought this, the Soul-Capturing Mirror showed an image of Piaomiao and Cui Yuanyang overlapping.

Zhao Changhe: "..."

Piaomiao: "!!!"

Zhao Changhe bolted: "Damn, this really is a demon mirror, it cannot be allowed to exist in this world!"

"Blame the mirror?" Piaomiao lifted her skirt and chased him around the pool: "Zhao Changhe, stop right there!"

Cui Yuanyang hugged her chest, her little head following the two as they circled, though she couldn't see anything from where she was: "What are you two doing?"

Piaomiao turned back angrily: "Take your bath! You little minx, you've made me lose all face!"

Cui Yuanyang blinked her innocent big eyes: What did I do? You're flirting with my husband, and now you're scolding me...

Zhao Changhe's cultivation was inferior to Piaomiao's, and unfortunately he couldn't outrun her; soon he was pinned at the pool's edge, as if about to be spanked.

Zhao Changhe suddenly arched upward. Piaomiao's physical strength was actually no match for his; caught off guard, she lost her grip, and both tumbled into the pool water.

Before she could struggle, he had already wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, and whispered in her ear: "Yangyang can't see anything..."

Held like this in the water, with his words whispered in her ear, Piaomiao instantly felt her body go limp, strength draining away, her thoughts growing hazy, as if everything he said made perfect sense.

Yes, Yangyang couldn't see.

So having a physical body made her even more vulnerable before him... places she had never even thought of were weak points—her lips, even her ears.

Damn this physical body, better not to have it.

"Yangyang is already all clean and fragrant. Don't you want to wash too?" Zhao Changhe's voice was like magic, his hands like magic too; before she knew it, her sash was gently loosened.

Piaomiao shamefully realized that knowing Yangyang couldn't see from somewhere actually made it more thrilling.

Oh well... She could clearly feel that Changhe had been especially infatuated with this new body lately, always wanting to caress her, even losing focus during serious matters. And she herself longed to be intimate with her lover, always drifting off to this thought... So why not just let him have his way?

With that thought, her tense body relaxed slightly. Piaomiao stole a furtive glance at Cui Yuanyang over there and whispered, "You... be quiet..."

Zhao Changhe, as if receiving a divine command, gently covered her.

The sound of water splashed loudly, like bathing; a jade hand covered her lips, using the water's noise to mask even softer sounds.

A trace of blood seeped unnoticed into the water, slowly dissolving, taking on a strange luster, as if faintly glowing.