After I stopped trying, a rich woman trained me into a demon emperor.

The half-bowl in Meng Po's palm glowed with golden light.

The light pierced through the gray membrane, through the net of laws woven by the Ten Courts of Hell.

It also passed through the overwhelming power of Du Ziren's Nascent Soul stage and landed on the broken porcelain in Zhou Ran's hand.

The missing part of the bowl's rim and the membrane of the remaining porcelain shard fit together perfectly.

Zhou Ran grasped the broken porcelain and took half a step forward.

"Trying to be number one?"

He looked at the assembled high-ranking figures from the underworld, and the smile on his face vanished.

"Let's see who's faster."

A thin crack appeared in the gray film.

So fine that it's almost just enough for light to pass through.

But after this opening appeared, the atmosphere inside the heart cavity completely changed.

The judge's pen in Yama's hand was lowered by half an inch.

The image behind the Song emperor was altered, with the handprint changed.

On Du Ziren's three-headed, six-armed form, six instruments of torture simultaneously turned towards Zhou Ran.

They waited for three days.

Some people have waited for hundreds of years.

Some people have waited for thousands of years.

Meng Po waited for 30,000 years.

The door opened.

Even if it's just this small opening, it's enough to make everyone tear away the last bit of concealment.

Zhao Tao was the first to lose control.

The name Zhou Ran had just stuck in his throat.

His pride had been trampled into the ground in front of this group of powerful underworld beings, and the resentment he had been holding in was now about to burst his chest.

"Zhou Ran!"

Zhao Tao tore open the sleeve of the Fifth Palace's ghost robe, revealing layers of black torture marks on his left arm.

Those marks of torture came from the eighteenth level of hell, each one branded into the bone.

It really hurts.

The power is real too.

"You think you can just walk in with a broken piece of porcelain?"

He bit his tongue and spat his blood onto the judge's pen.

The ink strokes are blackened.

A chain of punishment emerged from the tip of the pen, skimming along the ground towards Zhou Ran's ankle.

Zhou Ran ignored him.

He only poured a small amount of primordial blood and qi into the broken porcelain.

The text on the inner wall of the ceramic tile lit up.

Within the Heavenly Corpse lies a sea of ​​spider lilies; those who cross this sea of ​​flowers must not turn back.

A pale yellow light spread from the edge of the porcelain.

Wherever the light shines, the Yin law runes there are delayed by a beat.

Zhao Tao's chains of punishment climbed to within three feet of Zhou Ran's feet and then suddenly stopped.

It loosens one section, then loosens another.

The three characters "拘" (detain), "罚" (punish), and "罪" (crime) on the brush tip fell off and scattered into yellowish-gray.

Zhao Tao tightened his grip on his wrist and roared, "Come back!"

The chains did not respond.

The eerie yellow light climbed up the judge's pen along the chain, then rushed into Zhao Tao's left arm along the pen shaft.

Zhao Tao screamed in agony.

His left arm began to dissipate from his fingertips.

The skin and flesh were gone first.

There's nothing behind the bone.

The markings eventually dissipated.

There wasn't even a scar left at the break.

Once the law of forgetting has erased it, the place no longer acknowledges that an arm ever existed.

Zhao Tao stared at the empty sleeve, letting out a broken cry.

"My hand!"

Zhao Shijiang rushed up and grabbed his shoulder, channeling his yin fire into the severed arm in an attempt to pull the arm back.

Useless.

Zhou Ran then glanced at Zhao Tao.

"Haven't you always wanted me to pay you back for your things?"

"Let's collect some interest first."

Fatty Wang, supporting his knees, muttered curses under his breath.

"Of course, it's delivered right to our door."

Xiao Rou didn't say anything.

The Gu talisman in her palm was pressed against her skin, its shell tightened, and she dared not even move her wings.

That was no ordinary magic.

Those are the rules of the bottom of the River of Oblivion.

Forget about the physical body.

Forget about your soul.

Forget the traces of its existence.

Zhao Tao is still alive only because the light did not hit him directly.

Yama, the King of Hell, has made his move.

The judge's pen wrote the character "禁" (forbidden) in mid-air.

The Yin Law, which was halfway to the Divine Transformation stage, pressed down on the shattered porcelain.

At the same time, the Song emperor auctioned off the seals of the three palaces.

The orthodox Yin Law and the rebel Yin Law converged here, condensing into a black line of magic that pierced straight into the porcelain shard in Zhou Ran's palm.

Du Ziren sat on the bone chair, with an opening on the right side of his skull.

"Don't damage the porcelain shards."

In the six-armed form, the hand holding the iron hook went around Zhou Ran's body and reached for the porcelain shard.

All three parties worked together.

One needs to be suppressed.

One must seize it.

One needs to be sealed off.

Zhou Ran's palms felt numb.

The eerie yellow light emitted by the broken porcelain resisted the three forces, but it was ultimately just a fragment.

Half a bowl is inside the plastic film.

The ceramic tile is outside the film.

Separated by the barrier of the heart, the laws cannot form a complete cycle.

As Meng Po watched this scene, her thin, bony fingers gripped the rim of the bowl tightly.

Her hand was covered with only a thin layer of skin clinging to the bone.

She held half a bowl to her chest, with the bottom facing out.

"Zhou Ran".

She called him by his full name.

Zhou Ran lowered his eyebrows.

Meng Po rarely called him that.

Previously, it was either "boy" or "living person".

This time it's different.

"Give it blood."

Meng Po said.

"The Blood of the Great Wilderness".

Zhou Ran did not ask any further questions.

He pressed his thumb against the edge of the broken porcelain.

The skin of the Taihuang Overlord is extremely difficult to cut, but the edge of a broken porcelain shard can cut into the flesh.

A drop of blackish-gold blood fell into the inner wall of the porcelain shard.

A beam of pale yellow light shot up.

The fragrance of the red spider lily permeated the entire cavity of the heart.

From the depths of the spinal canal from which we came, came the soft chirping of flowers.

Mandara flower.

Mandalas

The four hundred and seventeen years of origin they left in the sea of ​​flowers.

Flowing back along the spine's lines, it transforms into two beams of light, one white and one black, which penetrate the shattered porcelain.

Between the crack in the Meng Po bowl and the broken porcelain, a complete arc of light is formed.

Meng Po's afterimage was enveloped by the arc of light.

Her figure began to fade away.

Zhou Ran's eyes narrowed.

He understood.

Meng Po was never trapped in the membrane, nor was she dragged down by the Heavenly Corpse.

She sealed herself away.

With each heartbeat of the Heavenly Corpse, she would suppress it with her own essence.

For 30,000 years, she wasn't guarding that door.

What she guarded was this heart.

The sealing of the River of Oblivion and the depletion of its original essence are merely the results seen by the outside world.

Her true remaining strength has always stayed here.

Half a bowl.

Afterimage.

And that last breath that's pressing on my heart.

"Mother-in-law!"

Emperor Song lost his composure and took half a step forward, with the Dharma image behind him pressing forward as well.

"You can't leave!"

Meng Po looked at him.

"Third brother, you've been sitting in the Third Hall for so many years, and you still haven't learned one thing."

The imperial seal of the Song emperor remained suspended in mid-air.

Meng Po said, "The laws of the underworld are used to set rules for the dead, not to imprison the living."

Emperor Song's Adam's apple bobbed, but he did not reply.

"King Yama said coldly."

"Mother-in-law, how many days can you hold on by sealing yourself in this way?"

"When the Lord of the Void Realm arrives, all three realms will perish."

Meng Po turned to him.

"So I waited for him."

King Yama laughed out loud.

"he?"

He pointed at Zhou Ran.

"A late-stage Golden Core cultivator?"

"A living person corroded by gray veins, destined to be dragged into the Heavenly Corpse in twenty-nine days?"

"You're betting the entire Three Realms on him?"

Meng Po did not argue.

She simply pushed half a bowl forward.

The pale yellow light suppressed the black normal lines.

The character "禁" (forbidden) written by Yama, the King of Hell, is broken.

The three imperial seals of the Song emperor were shaken back into his palm.

The iron hook in Du Ziren's portrait touched the edge of the yellow light, and a piece of the hook tip peeled off.

A corner of the transformed divine form was cut off.

Du Ziren finally stood up.

The bone chair shattered into powder.

Dark green will-o'-the-wisps spread out from beneath his feet.

"Meng Po, are you trying to ruin my grand plan?"

Meng Po held the bowl, bending her back even lower.

She doesn't seem like a strong person, but more like an old man who has been simmering soup at the bridgehead for too long.

But she stood before her heart.

Du Ziren's Dharma form could not advance more than three zhang.

This three-zhang territory was the land she had cultivated over thirty thousand years.

Zhou Ran looked at her, his tone lowering.

"You knew I'd come?"

Meng Po shook her head.

All I know is that someone has to come.