Chapter 111: The Master is Like a Sword and the King is Like Water

There is only one entrance to the palace of the Four Demon Kings, which is guarded by guards. Naturally, Mo Ran was not foolish enough to go to the main entrance. He swept up to the beams, but fearing that the light from the spirit guide lamp would attract unwanted attention, he hid the lamp in his pouch and flew over the roof tiles, his figure as fast as a black lightning bolt.

The palace looks huge from the outside, but inside it is a series of courtyards and corridors that overlap. Mo leapt to the top of one of the towers and crouched down lightly, blending in with the diaphanous tiles. He looked down and saw that the whole palace was like a small city, and it was hard to see beyond it.

Mo Ran's mind is endlessly agitated.

He finally knew why the man had refused to tell him where his master had gone, and he thought he was afraid of offending the Ghost King. But even though he knew that Chu Wanning was in the palace, he was still at his wits' end.

Where could Chu Wanning be, when there are 900, if not 1,000, palaces here?

He was like a man on the verge of finding a treasure, his heart and hands trembling more than at first.

Master

Where you are

As he pondered, he saw a group of men around the corner, carrying red wind lanterns, kicking and stomping. They were all clad in gold armour and war boots. One by one, they made their way from the east gate to the main walkway and, after twisting and turning, came to an inconspicuous side room.

In the side room was an Old Tian acacia, which blocked Mo Ran's view of the courtyard, so that he could only see half of the courtyard and the other half was hidden behind the foliage.

When the shadowy soldiers entered, there was first a ping-ponging of tables and chairs, and a lot of shouting and drinking. A sharp scream pierced the air as a woman was grabbed by her hair and thrown into the courtyard, her robe half-open, half slipped off in the rough pushing of the soldiers, revealing her snowy skin.

"I'll let you run I'll let you fucking run"

The whip strikes the woman so hard that it should be the instrument of torture in the ghost world, and even ghosts and monsters would be pained and killed by it.

The woman crawled on the ground shivering, she seemed to be trying to run, but there were officers everywhere and she had nowhere to go.

"Bitch, you've entered the Four Kings' Palace and you're still thinking of getting out"

"I was innocent when I was alive, I have no sins, why are you doing this to me" the woman screamed, "let me out, I want to go to my next life, I don't want to stay here"

Another whipping was administered, causing her to wail and wail.

"Serving the four kings saves you from the pain of reincarnation, you are so shameless"

"He doesn't see me. Why shouldn't I go?"

Another whip came down on her face and the woman cried out in pain, shaking uncontrollably but still trying to crawl out.

Her beastly predicament seemed to please the shadowy soldiers of the Four Kings more and more, and the men laughed. One by one, the "tributes" were dragged out of the parlour.

The leader of the shadowy soldiers said, "All of you have worked hard, and the ones in this courtyard are all unwanted by the Fourth King. I know you have a hard time keeping them to yourselves, so go and play with the ones you like. If you like anything in particular, come and register it with me and bring it back to your own homes."

The lecherous spirits under the Fourth King's hand shouted and laughed uncontrollably as they went to the house to pick out the most beautiful creatures. The woman outside was not spared, and was surrounded by several men under the tree, pouncing on her like hungry wolves, as if they wanted to chew up her soul.

In the room there were gasps and whispers, people crying, people screaming, people begging for mercy.

Others, unable to bear such torture and wanting to be freed, give up their souls to bend the rules and try to please. The ugliness of all beings, whether in hell or on earth, is the same.

Mo Ran dropped down gently from the tower and snuck through the night to the roof of the side hall. He thought to himself that Chu Wanning had just arrived and had not yet been selected by the Ghost King and would not be here, according to the old man at the wonton stall, but he was still a little uneasy, so he lifted a small tile and looked down quietly.

In the midst of the clouds of desire in the room, a confused mess of confusion, he saw the face of a man.

Yung IX.

That little herald, whom he had quite favoured in his previous life, but who had used his favour to scheme him and try to take his cultivation, was among them.

He was most resourceful and knew life as well as death.

Many in this house were struggling, unwilling to follow each other. Some of the dead were still calling the name of their loved ones in the yang world under their breath between the confused and chaotic images, while others were spitting incessantly in defiance of their names. But Rongjiu was different. Mo Ran knew this man well, he loved money and his life. Of course, there was no life to love after death, but he also cherished his soul and did not want to suffer further abuse.

On the messy, wide bed, almost all of the unsuccessful 'tributes' around him were pleading and struggling, except for him, whose eyes were closed, letting the man have his way, his mouth softly purring like a cat's.

Mo Ran looked at his face, which was covered with spring tide, and a chill crept up from the bottom of his heart.

He thought of Chu Wanning.

Rongjiu is a soft finger, Chu Wanning is a refined steel.

At first glance, he looks as if he is as cold and hard as basalt, and no one can destroy him. But in such a situation, Rong Jiu will please, will flatter, will be willing to bend down and use his softness to build himself an impregnable battlements.

But what about Chu Wanning?

Mo Ran doesn't even have to think about it to know what will happen to him, he'd rather be scattered, he'd rather fall into the 18th circle of hell, who can touch him

The water never breaks; the only thing that breaks is the steel blade.

"Bang."

At the end of the day was a startling sound that sent chills through the house and the roof.

Mo Ran's face went white and she looked up towards the courtyard.

The fiery woman was stabbed in the chest by the shadowy soldier, and her soul gradually became transparent, with tears streaming down from her eyes.

And then, after a few moments of stagnation.

Suddenly scattered to a speck of dust.

The soul flies away.

The shadowy soldier who had destroyed her soul cursed and stood up. He had a hideous whip mark on his face, presumably from the woman who had just taken his spirit-suppressing whip and smacked it on his body. The cunning soldier spat, "Damn, bad luck... you've become a ghost and you're still so thoughtless... yuck, you old bitch."

Mo Ran was on ice.

He felt that he had not seen the woman he had never met before, but that he had also seen the choice Chu Wanning would make.

Rongjiu is still in the throes of lust, a masterpiece in his quest for survival, clinging like a silk lover to a subject stiffer than him, swallowing people up with his tenderness in a net of heaven and earth.

Gradually all the tributes in the room began to succumb, the fishy, rotten stench tightening one's throat and making one want to gag.

It took an unknown amount of time before the curtain came down on a surly scene.

Rongjiu really did teach people to be reluctant to leave. Some officers and soldiers put on their clothes and went to the head to register, so that they could take the people back to their own homes after they had been shown to the Fourth King.

These people are all ghosts under the Four Kings and do not enter the reincarnation cycle. Following them is not as good as following the Four Kings, but it is always a way to live a comfortable life without humiliation.

Yung Kau was very insatiable for this.

The demon soldier who was to take him back laughed with him some more, but it was late and he had to change his post, so he left first. The line of demons drifted away, and the hall was as bleak and chaotic as a banquet that had broken up, with the remnants of wine and human kindness spilled on the ground, slowly cooling off.

He sat up lazily, being a man, but the most relaxed of the group.

After she had finished her make-up, she looked into the bronze mirror and felt that her face was haggard after her death, not as white and red as when she was alive, which did not match the springiness of her eyebrows.

So Rongjiu ignored the women who were sobbing, dazed and shivering as he gladly straightened his clothes, put on his silk footwear and paced out into the courtyard.

The blossoms in hell are also blossoming, even more brilliantly red than those in the mortal world. He folded a bunch and dabbed the juice of the flowers with his delicate fingertips, staining the tips of his lips and smearing them on his cheeks.

He was born bitter. In his opinion, the so-called friendship is something that only the noble people who are well-fed and high up in the world can pursue. He was originally a dirty seed in the dirt, and could not care less about propriety, righteousness and shame, and all he carried in his arms was his own life.

Suddenly there was a subtle rustling sound behind me, as if someone had touched the leaves of the flowers.

He thought it was the official with whom he had made love who had returned, so he donated the spring in his eyes without stint; all things are expensive, but only spring does not cost money.

He gazed back sweetly, a magnificent and feminine sight.

But when he saw the person standing coldly by the flowers, Rong Jiu took a step back, his eyes widened and his lips opened lightly, as if he had been put to death by lightning.

"It's you."

"It's me." Mo Ran said.

A soft face of Rongjiu changed through a thousand postures, surprise, hesitation, gloating, annoyance, apprehension, pretending to be relaxed.

It finally settles on a clear, cold look.

He was used to being a smiling man, and the kind of ruthlessness that was too open-jawed to wear on his face was too heavy, and he didn't want to stand out too much.

"Why is Sir Mo here too?" The last time they met was very unpleasant, and Rong Jiu stood up straight, looking indifferent.

Mo Ran said, "Seeking people."

Rong Jiu seemed to snort, "I can't imagine that a man as flamboyant as Duke Mo would still have something he can't let go of when he reaches the ghost world."

Mo Ran did not want to talk too much to him, took the scroll out and handed it to Rongjiu: "Have you seen him?"

Rongjiu glanced at her and sneered, "She's just that pretty, who's the herder?"

Mo Ran frowned and said, "What herder or not, just say you've seen him or not."

"No." Rongjiu said indifferently, "There is and I don't want to tell you."

""

"I'm tired, I'll go back and rest. Go up where you came from, Sir Mo, without seeing me off."

Mo Ran called out to him, "Yung Kau"

The slender figure paused and turned a half-flattering face sideways with some amusement: "What"

"I'm going to save him. If you are willing, I will save you too. There is no way in this world, so you can't really hang out with the shades." Mo Ran said, "Go back to your reincarnation."

The only difference is that the guest of honor has changed from a human being to a ghost, so what difference does it make if he is reincarnated or not"

"You're begging for your life at the point of a knife."

This time, Rong Jiu really laughed. He smiled and looked at Mo Ran: "Whenever I'm not under the knife, I'm a fish, and when I meet good people, I can get more silver. If I meet a good man like Mr Mo, it's not a big deal if I don't get paid, but if I run away with some of my belongings, I'll turn around and pretend I don't know him. Mr. Mo, you first stabbed me and then advised me to be careful with the knife, you are really kind."