Chapter 24: The Escape

“Ancient immortals? I don’t think I am one.”
Su Yuanbai’s brow furrowed slightly. When he heard the words “ancient immortals,” for some reason, he felt a twinge of disgust and a faint surge of anger. Yet, seeing the reverence and awe in the woman’s tone before him, it was clear that the ancient immortals were figures to be admired and yearned for.
But these feelings of aversion and barely contained rage made Su Yuanbai sense that something deep within his heart was being suppressed.
“Have these blood-red flowers changed color...?”
Qu Hanchen shrank off to one side, unable to comprehend talk of the netherworld and such things. All he saw was a plain formed of clusters of blood-red flowers, which in a blink turned stark white.
“The Red Spider Lily has become the Datura Flower. Though both symbolize death, the snow-white lily heralds new life...”
Xi Chunxue gazed in astonishment as the blood-red plain suddenly transformed into snowy white, murmuring in wonder.
“Huh? Now they’ve all withered.”
Qu Hanchen cried out in surprise.
“Hm?!”
Xi Chunxue stared, shocked at the scene. Never before in history had such a thing occurred, and she could find no way to explain what lay before her.
Within a few short breaths, the once vibrant Red Spider Lilies faded to snowy white, then withered into black, as if death and rebirth had traded places, only to be followed by decay.
“What’s that sound?”
Duan Lingqi tilted his head to listen. He seemed to hear something unusual—a broken, intermittent roar, like some beast’s cry.
“It’s hell! The Wailing Hell is spreading! Run, if we don’t escape, we’ll be imprisoned forever in the Wailing Hell, suffering endless torment for all eternity!”
Xi Chunxue turned just in time to see the distant, gray sky tinged with a ring of crimson. Within the blood-red haze, countless ghosts were falling, knives and stones whistled through the air.
But when she turned around, Duan Lingqi was already gone from sight. Only a tiny yellow speck could be seen in the distance, while nearby, Qu Hanchen was flailing his arms, desperately running, his legs pumping as fast as he could.
“Go!”
Xi Chunxue seized Su Yuanbai, whose eyes were closed and who stood unmoving, and urged him anxiously.
She knew this handsome man was powerful, but even if Su Yuanbai could withstand the engulfing spread of the Wailing Hell, he would never be able to leave.
Not for a lifetime, nor for two, but forever—until his will broke, his soul scattered, and his thoughts faded.
“If you don’t go, I’m leaving!”

Xi Chunxue listened as the screams and wails grew clearer by her ears. She kept looking back at the approaching Wailing Hell, even though its spread was not swift.
Who could say it wouldn’t suddenly accelerate?
But fate is capricious: good things rarely happen, while disasters arrive unbidden.
Perhaps the Wailing Hell sensed the presence of other ghosts; when it was a thousand meters away, its slow advance abruptly quickened. In the blink of an eye, Xi Chunxue saw it had closed to eight hundred meters!
Another glance—it was only five hundred meters away!
“I’m leaving!”
Clenching her teeth, Xi Chunxue knew she could not delay any longer. Yet as she uttered these words, countless bloody ghostly hands were already brushing her back, their chilling aura making her soul tremble.
The blood-red sky was now visible from the corner of her eye, and the howling of knives and stones, mixed with screams and wails, made Xi Chunxue feel as if she were already engulfed.
“Go.”
Su Yuanbai’s voice had barely sounded when, before Xi Chunxue could hear the last syllable, she found herself atop a barren, flowerless mountain peak.
The lingering aura of death had not disappeared, and the whistling of blades and stones, as well as the screams and wails, still echoed in her ears, but she was already on the shadowy mountains of the Netherworld.
“Do you believe all these souls are truly guilty of great crimes, deserving such torment?”
Su Yuanbai gazed at the Wailing Hell as it gradually devoured the entire plain, watching the ghosts impaled on the mountain of knives, their bodies torn and blood pouring out, and spoke softly.
“Your face...”
Xi Chunxue stared in horror at Su Yuanbai’s profile. On his handsome features, intricate black patterns had appeared, entwined with dense golden ancient symbols.
These golden symbols resembled Buddhist seals, and the black, complex patterns evoked Daoist markings.
But none of the Buddhist or Daoist seals Xi Chunxue had ever seen were so densely layered or so strange—the gold shone with divine brilliance, the black was deep as the Nine Hells.
“What’s wrong?”
Su Yuanbai seemed unaware of the changes to his body. He glanced sideways at the shocked Xi Chunxue and asked.
“That old evil dragon can escape the plain of lilies, but the jailer may not make it out.”
Xi Chunxue turned, pointing at Duan Lingqi, who was already nearing the foothills of the shadowy mountain range, and then gestured at Qu Hanchen, who was still several miles away.
“Alright.”

Su Yuanbai nodded slightly, whether or not he noticed the abrupt shift in conversation.
Even though Xi Chunxue was prepared this time, she still failed to see how Su Yuanbai descended the mountain peak—she could only see his figure suddenly appear on the plain of lilies.
In the blink of an eye.
Su Yuanbai, who had just appeared on the plain, was already beside Qu Hanchen.
Another blink.
Qu Hanchen appeared next to Duan Lingqi, with Su Yuanbai standing calmly between them—one hand gripping Qu Hanchen’s prison uniform, the other clutching Duan Lingqi’s serpentine neck.
Then Xi Chunxue sensed someone beside her.
“You are as formidable as ever. I wanted to find some ghost officers from the Underworld to assist you first!”
Duan Lingqi’s dragon head drooped slightly, his talons twisting nervously. Even though his face was not human, the sycophantic smile on his dragon visage was unmistakable.
“Urgh... urgh...”
Qu Hanchen clutched at his chest. Even as a ghost without a heartbeat, he felt as if his heart was about to leap from his throat.
“You two ran quickly enough. After eating the Soul-Recall Grass, if you don’t return to the world of the living within three days, you’ll truly become lost souls with nowhere to go.”
Xi Chunxue looked coldly at Duan Lingqi and Qu Hanchen.
Duan Lingqi’s reaction was expected, but Qu Hanchen’s panicked flight was not—she had not anticipated that the jailer would also be so afraid of death.
“You set me up?!”
Duan Lingqi’s ingratiating smile vanished; the dragon’s head swelled with murderous intent, his earth-yellow pupils glaring at Xi Chunxue in anger.
“If I hadn’t, you’d have already become a wandering ghost in hell. Do you so yearn for the Wailing Hell, or the sixteen subsidiary heart-punishing hells, to end up a wicked spirit impaled on mountains of blades and scorched by stones?”
Xi Chunxue replied coldly, with a mocking smile.