Chapter Fourteen: Reflection

For some, perhaps it was merely a hobby, yet they held the power over life and death—a notion that filled Li Fengyin with profound disgust. He could not comprehend how such a baseless reason could justify taking a life.

Zheng Chao walked step by step, trailing at the rear. Li Fengyin moved in the middle, with Ren Jiandao leading the way.

With some leisure, Zheng Chao began to observe his surroundings, eager to understand what truly distinguished the Underworld and what mysteries it concealed.

Li Fengyin glanced back at the pitiful state of Falling Rain Firearms and asked, “Why would anyone want to kidnap Shen Liangxin?”

A small patch of ash had corroded Zheng Chao’s face, yet he seemed indifferent to the pain. “Perhaps because Shen Liangxin did something that earned others’ grudges.”

“Hm.” Li Fengyin nodded thoughtfully. “Understood.”

Ahead, Ren Jiandao continued walking at an unhurried pace. Li Fengyin felt little interest in the Underworld; a fleeting, fragmented memory of it had stirred recollections of past events.

Beyond the Six Realms, there existed the realms of the Underworld Spirits, and beyond those lay Nightmare and Void.

Suddenly, Li Fengyin was gripped by a pang of unease, as if something within the surrounding structures was silently watching them.

Zheng Chao’s sharp gaze fixated on a distant car, behind which lingered a pale figure—something that felt more like a creature than a mere object.

“Focus solely on the path ahead. Keep stepping forward,” Ren Jiandao intoned, as if offering a warning. Instantly, both men withdrew their gazes and resumed their measured strides.

After all, this was the Underworld—a place where a single misstep could mean doom.

Legend spoke of a ruler of this realm, known as the King of the Underworld, a being of extreme cruelty yet also unparalleled kindness—a paradox difficult to fathom.

“One thought leads to hell, one thought leads to heaven.”

As these words crossed their minds simultaneously, Ren Jiandao spoke them aloud once more. Only then did they realize their thoughts had begun to be absorbed by the bleak surroundings.

They hastened to steel their wills. Li Fengyin cleared his mind, and Zheng Chao suppressed his arrogance, refraining from further scrutiny of their environment.

Step by step they moved—one, two, three—amidst a sky filled with falling ash, the ruins around them resembling remnants of a forsaken apocalypse. Yet this desolation evoked a strange, ethereal serenity.

At last, just as Li Fengyin’s memory wavered, the scene before him shifted abruptly, and he found himself once more surrounded by the bustling noise of the living world.

“Back already?!”

Li Fengyin was surprised. Looking around, he confirmed that he was indeed in a reality teeming with people and cars.

His phone rang again, Shen Liangxin’s voice on the line: “Did you hear? Don’t overthink it—just follow Ren Jiandao and you’ll get out.”

A hint of joy stirred in his heart. The other party had not hung up. He brought the phone to his ear and replied softly, “Sorry, I lost signal earlier, but I’ve returned to reality.”

“Phew,” Shen Liangxin sighed in relief. “Good to have you back!”

Still, Li Fengyin felt slightly awkward, his jacket draped over his head.

Meanwhile, Zheng Chao remained in a disheveled state—and more terrifyingly, still trapped in the Underworld, with only Ren Jiandao steadily walking ahead of him.

“Only one person can exit at a time,” Ren Jiandao explained calmly. “The next chance will be in three days.”

Zheng Chao fell silent.

Li Fengyin glanced at his previously corroded palm, now fully restored, but noticed Zheng Chao was nowhere to be seen behind him.

“Could it be he hasn’t returned yet?” Li Fengyin mused, a smile playing on his lips. “Looks like the order matters for who gets out.”

Turning, he approached the flowerbed by the street and saw Shen Liangxin again. Her eyes seemed moist with tears, yet seeing his test subject alive meant the experiment was not in vain.

Whether her concern lay with the experiment or with Li Fengyin himself, who could say?

The scene shifted to a professor with salt-and-pepper hair walking anxiously toward a hotel. He was worried because the agreed-upon time for the kidnapping handover had passed, and contact with those at the Imperial Tower had been lost.

Zhang Feng’s heart was uneasy; the only certainty was that the task commissioned to the Imperial Tower had yet to be fulfilled.

Elsewhere, a middle-aged man missing his right ear brooded over the broken connection with Falling Rain Firearms’ Zheng Chao. Calls showed no service, but where in all of China lacked coverage?

Surely Zheng Chao hadn’t vanished abroad in just a few hours.

“Maybe that’s actually possible...” he murmured, touching his missing ear instinctively. “When the time comes, just send over Zhang Feng’s death photo.”

Despite the Imperial Tower’s high status in Shangbei City, even they feared a top assassin like Zheng Chao.

Shen Liangxin was in high spirits, but Li Fengyin worried about Zheng Chao. If the man perished in the Underworld, complications would surely arise. He suspected Zheng Chao’s identity went beyond that of a mere assassin—this was his deduction.

“The legendary Falling Feather Pavilion,” Shen Liangxin shared some information. “It’s an assassin organization with ten official members. Falling Rain Firearms ranks ninth but possesses the deepest knowledge of firearms.”

“Then why only ninth?” Li Fengyin asked instinctively. To him, guns were the deadliest weapons in the world.

“Killing doesn’t always require guns,” Shen Liangxin replied softly after finishing her candied hawthorn.

Li Fengyin pondered. “True enough.”

In the Underworld, ash drifted slowly from the sky. The unfortunate Falling Rain Firearms trailed listlessly behind Ren Jiandao, who revealed a secret: “The Underworld King’s surname is He, but it’s not his original name. He already lives in the real world.”

“Underworld King...” Zheng Chao considered this. Some secrets were best left unsaid, but knowing this might one day become leverage—either to kill, to save, or simply to survive.

Still, Zheng Chao doubted Li Fengyin was the Underworld King.

As for the connection between Ren Jiandao and Li Fengyin, Zheng Chao asked no further questions.

“Most lamb stew bread in Shangbei City isn’t authentic,” Li Fengyin remarked. “I know a place that serves genuine lamb oil spicy stew bread. Want to try it sometime?”

“Lamb stew bread?” Shen Liangxin thought for a moment, realizing she had never had an authentic one. She nodded. “Alright.”

The sun shone high overhead—lunchtime—and yet the day was only half gone. Elsewhere, a serene and flawless young woman arrived outside the most authentic lamb stew bread restaurant in Shangbei City.

This girl was named Su Yuxian.