The order of the six paths was on the brink of collapse.
Yang Ye had spent several years establishing the various rules below to perfection.
And life in the Underworld was no walk in the park.
In the Netherworld Underworld, flowers withered and rice plants failed.
Nothing grew.
The only thing that blossomed were the Other Shore Flowers by the Yellow Spring Road.
And the only warm thing was the Mengpo Soup by the Naihe Bridge.
Only the ghosts knew how Yang Ye had gotten by these past few years.
He had almost forgotten what warmth felt like.
King Yan might look imposing on the surface, but the hardships he endured in private were known only to himself.
By contrast, Qin Hao had it much better.
Who didn't have the good stuff up above?
And that title of Heavenly Master, didn't it just ring with resonance?
Wherever he went, a mere glance was enough to tell he was definitely a leader of the righteous.
Now look at this demeanor, this outfit, this title.
The bloody King Yan!
