Immortal of the Nine Realms-Chapter 798: Forgotten River

After Zhu Long spat out the eight blood beads, it turned drowsy and fell beside Fang Chen. Its eyes were tightly shut, and its face was pale. Its little claws occasionally twitched. The breath it exhaled formed a layer of frost on the ground.

At the same time, a flying sword came from afar. It circled around Fang Chen, appearing quite excited.

Mirror of the Universe asked, "Junior, where have you been for the past two years?"

Little Sword replied, "None of your business. I was just out scouting for Little Chen."

"I could figure that out even without you telling me."

"Then go ahead and figure it out."

"Hmph. No spirits stones, no business."

"Enough with the nonsense. Is Little Chen about to restore his cultivation? His aura seems to be at the Foundation Building Realm."

"If all goes well, he'll indeed recover his cultivation. He might even directly condense his Nascent Soul."

"That's great!"

"Good my ass! Without proper preparation, he's very likely to undergo the soul-crossing ritual."

"It's going to be fine as long as I'm with him."

"You? Neither you nor I can go. The black and white paper figures can follow, as can Zhu Long. But it's a pity its essence is too depleted. It wouldn't be of much use."

"Then I'll protect Little Chen's physical body and wait for him to return from the soul-crossing ritual."

Fang Chen's divine soul grew increasingly condensed. He saw that Zhu Long seemed to have overdrawn its essence for his sake, and he also saw the black and white paper figures and Little Sword.

Unknowingly, all nine streams of Zhu Long's essence merged into his soul, ultimately fusing with it.

Suddenly, the surrounding environment changed.

When Fang Chen regained his senses, he found himself standing on a mountain path.

The surroundings were pitch black. Fang Chen didn't spot any mountains up ahead, but he could see a river sparkling with ripples.

The black and white paper figures followed Fang Chen to this place, and a hint of shock flashed in their eyes.

The black paper figure mumbled, "This is…" The white paper figure looked around, its expression solemn. "This is the Underworld."

"The Soul Crossing Ritual…" murmured Fang Chen.

The soul shouldn't have any senses, yet Fang Chen found everything around him incredibly real. He could even feel his feet planted on the ground. He reached up and pinched his face. He had reverted back to his younger appearance. He even felt solid, nothing like the usual formless state of his soul.

The white paper figure cupped its hands. "Lord, how do you feel now? Our cultivations have been suppressed since the moment when he arrived here."

"How do I feel…."

Fang Chen closed his eyes and quietly sensed his body, feeling as though there was an inexhaustible amount of power within him. It was far stronger than what he felt at the peak of the Golden Core Realm.

A smile appeared on Fang Chen's face. "I feel great."

That was good news.

As he had suspected, once he entered the Underworld, the special nature of his divine soul had indeed played a significant role. Moreover, his soul had now fused with the essence of Zhu Long, making it much stronger than before.

It was even possible that once he returned to the mortal realm, even a Profound Immortal might not be able to detect his soul. He'd need to test this when he had time.

Fang Chen pondered, "If I were to judge my strength in the Underworld based solely on my soul power, would I be like a Profound Immortal or like an Immortal King undergoing the soul-crossing ritual?"

At that moment, someone's hoarse voice came from behind. "Excuse me..."

Fang Chen turned around and saw an old man holding a cane in one hand and a porcelain bowl in the other. He was bending over and looking at him with a dazed expression. The old man was dressed in rags, looking like a beggar. He was trembling uncontrollably, as if an invisible chill was surrounding him.

Fang Chen cupped his hands in greeting. "Where are you from, elder? And where are you headed?"

The old man looked confused and lost. He tightened his cloak as if he was very cold. "M-my lord, I've come from fleeing the disaster. I want to go to Taoyang Town. My son has settled down there with his children. I want to join him. But... I seem to be lost and don't know how to get there…."

The white paper figure said softly, "Young master, he doesn't know he's already dead." It appeared like the old man couldn't see the two paper figures. After all, if he could see and hear them, he would have shown a completely different expression after hearing their words.

Fang Chen said, "Taoyang Town... that's quite a distance away." "It's far, yes. But once I get there, my son will definitely give me something to eat." The old man's face showed a glimmer of hope. "I'll crawl if I have to. I must get there and see my newborn grandson."

The old man tightened his cloak again and glanced at Fang Chen, who was dressed warmly. A look of envy flashed in his eyes.

Fang Chen asked, "Are you cold, Elder?"

The old man looked up at the silent sky. "It's cold. With all this snow in the world, how could it not be cold?" It seemed that in his eyes, the sky was still snowing. Fang Chen suddenly understood. The scene the old man saw now was likely the same as before his death. It must have been snowing on the day he died.

The old man asked again, his eyes full of hope, "Do you know the way to Taoyang Town?"

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Fang Chen gently shook his head. "Sorry, I don't know the way there."

The old man seemed disappointed to hear that, but he smiled nonetheless. "It's fine, it's fine. I'll take my leave now."

Leaning on his cane, he walked ahead.

There was a river up ahead, and there seemed to be a small boat anchored there.

Suddenly, Fang Chen's gaze shifted. The once quiet mountain path became unexpectedly lively, with numerous figures appearing out of nowhere, all heading toward the river ahead. Some of these figures looked anxious, scanning the surroundings as if searching for someone. Others looked dazed, like walking corpses trudging forward mindlessly.

Some wore scholar caps, chatting and laughing and engaging in lively discussions. Some wore tattered armor, holding broken blades, and black blood continuously oozed from their bodies. Some were frail, moving forward with small, labored steps. Others had rosy complexions, their bodies plump, followed by servants—men and women—whose faces were flushed and made of paper.

As these figures passed by Fang Chen, some noticed him, while others seemed to ignore him completely.

Those figures slightly leaned their bodies, as if bowing to Fang Chen.

Fang Chen looked up and saw many light boats suddenly appear on the river in the distance, with numerous figures standing on them, all gazing toward him.

"Let's go ahead and take a look," said Fang Chen.

He led the black and white paper figures along the crowd, heading toward the front.

When they were halfway there, a woman with disheveled hair suddenly grabbed Fang Chen's sleeve.

"Young master, have you seen my son?"

The black paper man's expression turned stiff. "How dare you!"

Just as it was about to intervene, Fang Chen raised his hand, signaling for him to stop. Fang Chen looked at the woman and softly asked, "What does your son look like? How old is he?"

"He-he's five. He's this tall, fair, chubby, and very cute. But I can't find him anywhere. I've lost my son, woo woo woo, I've lost him..."

The woman released Fang Chen's sleeve and began walking forward, crying while calling out her son's nickname.

Just when Fang Chen thought she would receive no response, a child dashed through the crowd and rushed toward her. "Mother, I'm here! I'm here!"

The woman was immediately overjoyed. She quickly picked up the child, laughing and crying at the same time.

The white paper figure said, "Lord, they have wounds on their backs."

Fang Chen nodded. He could see it too—the mother and child both had a knife wound on their backs, indicating they had been killed.

He withdrew his gaze and continued forward. Soon, he arrived at the riverbank. The first light boat he had seen earlier was quiet, with someone sitting with their back to the crowd.

However, the other immortal boats were filled with noise. People stretched their necks, looking around and occasionally calling out a name. If they received a response, their faces would light up with joy or tears of happiness.

A light boat approached the shore, with an elderly woman dressed simply, waving to the old man Fang Chen had encountered before. "Old man, old man, over here!"

The old man was stunned. "What are you doing here? Am I dreaming?"

"Old man, you froze to death! Hurry up and come aboard. I'll take you across the Forgotten River."

"What nonsense are you talking? I'm almost at Taoyang Town. My son will take me in. How could I be dead?"

"Have you forgotten? You died in Taoyang Town. Your son said you were old and useless, and with a new grandson in the family, he didn't want to waste food on you, so he put you in a shed in the yard. The snow was heavy that night, and you hadn't eaten anything. Having traveled so far yet eaten so little, you couldn't hold out… and died that very night."