This mission had to succeed. Failure wasn't an option.
Song Wanníng also had to make sure everyone involved stayed safe. If she couldn't even do that, she'd be betraying their trust.
Once things were settled with the beast race, she sent a message to Baili Shang.
The moment he received it, Baili Shang was overjoyed. Getting a message directly from her was something rare enough to make his heart race. But after hearing what she said, a trace of disappointment slipped into his chest.
His cultivation was still too weak. Even when Song Wanníng needed help, there was nothing he could do. He sighed inwardly. "I'll talk to my father. I doubt he'll refuse."
Even if his father did, he'd convince him no matter what. If the world could really be restructured, his father's chances of ascending would soar. Still, this plan carried great risk. They had to prepare thoroughly before making a move.
"Thank you," she said softly.
Warmth bloomed in her chest. Somewhere along the way, she'd ended up with quite a few friends.
"There's no need for thanks between us."
Baili Shang's tone grew gentle, his voice carrying a warmth he couldn't quite hide. For a moment, he almost saw her smile before his eyes.
After a few more polite words, Song Wanníng ended the transmission and headed for the Underworld. She would've liked to visit each person in person, but the regions were too far apart. Traveling back and forth would waste too much time.
For now, she'd rely on her contacts to pass along the message. If anyone refused, she'd go herself later.
But since King Yama hadn't given her a message talisman, she could only go meet him directly. When she stepped onto Underworld soil again, she was stunned by the change.
The place was no longer dark and still. Lush spirit plants filled the landscape, and people from all kinds of races moved through the streets—humans, demons, and others mingling freely.
The once-quiet realm was now lively and bright. Her arrival instantly drew attention. Several ghost cultivators hurried over.
"Are you Song Wanníng Dàrén?" one asked respectfully.
"Yes. You know me?"
She blinked in surprise. She didn't remember meeting any of them before.
"Of course. There's no one in the Underworld who doesn't know you!"
The ghost cultivator smiled. After all, she was the one who'd helped break the old seal. To them, she was a benefactor.
"Are you here to see King Yama Dàrén?"
She nodded. There was no point hiding it.
"Ah, then you're a bit unlucky. King Yama's gone into seclusion. He was injured not long ago, and it looked serious. Right now, Lady Meng Po's handling everything in his place."
He pointed toward the distance. "He's in closed death seclusion. Unless the entire Underworld's at stake, he won't come out."
The warning was kind. He didn't want her to waste the trip.
"Closed death seclusion?" she muttered, frowning. That was really bad timing.
She only had a working relationship with King Yama. Without him, things would be much harder to arrange.
"Is Lady Meng Po working out of the King's Palace?"
"Yes, you can find her there," he answered quickly, bowing before hurrying off.
Following the same route as before, she soon reached the grand hall. After the ghost guards reported her arrival, she was invited inside.
A woman in a long black robe sat at the head of the hall, pen moving steadily across a pile of documents.
When Song Wanníng's footsteps echoed, the woman slowly raised her head. Her face was beautiful, but sorrow lingered in her eyes, like a thin mist of rain softening every expression.
"I've long heard of Song Dàrén's name," Lady Meng Po said with a faint smile.
Song Wanníng walked a few steps closer, her expression shifting slightly in surprise.
Lady Meng Po's aura was that of a Mahayana peak cultivator. The Underworld truly was filled with hidden experts.
"I greet you, Senior."
"There's no need for formality. Please, sit."
Lady Meng Po rose, poured tea herself, and motioned for her to take a seat.
"Did you come here for something urgent? King Yama's in seclusion, but you can tell me instead."
Her voice was gentle, her smile warm, yet a subtle melancholy hid between her brows.
Song Wanníng met her eyes and said, "Senior, I did come for King Yama, but since he's in seclusion, I guess it's you I need to speak to now."
She smiled faintly, then explained everything about the seal and the plan to rebuild the world.
"I know it's rude to ask this of you, but I still hope you'll think about it carefully."
She didn't offer benefits or promises. For cultivators at this level, she didn't need to. They already understood what was at stake.
If what she said was true, this was a gamble with two outcomes.
Lose, and everything would be gone. Death was almost certain.
Win, and ascension might finally be within reach.
The two paths lay clearly before her.
Lady Meng Po's smile slowly faded.
Part of her wished Song Wanníng hadn't told her any of this. Knowing made it impossible to ignore. No matter what choice she made, regret would follow.
For ghost cultivators, ascension was almost impossible. Most who tried ended up perishing under the heavenly tribulation.
That was why so many of them deliberately suppressed their cultivation, afraid to face the heavens.
But now, a chance stood right before her.
She hesitated.
There was someone she wanted to see in the Immortal Realm—someone she'd longed to meet again. But fear of the tribulation had kept her in the Underworld all this time.
"I'll need to think about it," she said at last.
Song Wanníng's name was famous across the entire Cultivation Realm. Lady Meng Po had heard countless stories about her. Someone like her wouldn't come all this way just to lie.
"Alright, I can wait."
Song Wanníng nodded. As long as there was hesitation, there was hope. She'd wait as long as it took. She took up residence in a side hall she'd used once before, while Lady Meng Po returned to her own quarters.
There, she stood silently before a portrait, her gaze distant. If Song Wanníng had been there, she would've recognized the man in the painting—Mu Zixu in his youth.
Lady Meng Po stared at the portrait, her thoughts drifting far away.
By now, Mu Zixu must've become a mighty figure in the Immortal Realm. She wondered if he still remembered her.
A quiet sigh escaped her lips, and sorrow flickered again in her eyes.
Back then, when demonic creatures invaded her village, it was Mu Zixu who appeared and slaughtered them all.
Everyone in the village had died, including her. He was the one who buried them and raised nameless gravestones. Her resentment had been too strong for her soul to pass on. For a time, she'd followed him, watching from the shadows.
Eventually, Mu Zixu guided her onto the path of cultivation. But when she stepped into the light of the soul-guiding ritual, she found herself trapped in the Underworld—and she never saw him again.
Only after Song Wanníng broke the old seal did she rush out to ask around and learn that Mu Zixu had long since ascended to the Immortal Realm.
She'd wanted to repay his kindness all this time, but fate had never given her the chance. Now that opportunity was finally here, and she didn't want to waste it. But in the end, she still feared death.
Once you've died once, the memory of it never leaves you.
Lady Meng Po sighed softly again. Her thoughts circled endlessly, and she couldn't bring herself to make a choice.
===
Ooohh, what a twist~~