Three thousand territories.
Mu Junyan stared as the rosewood table, which he had spent a fortune to use for thousands of years and was now worth over a hundred million, was smashed into powder by the man. He dared not speak out in anger, his eyes brimming with tears.
Imagining the countless ghostly faces formed on the branches of the huanghuali wood, Yama could only mutter softly, "All things in the world have a spirit, especially huanghuali wood, which exudes a profound and magnificent aura of nature and time. It is made into a table, bearing witness to countless stories..."
It was also one of his cherished possessions.
Look how exquisite and beautiful the patterns formed on the pear wood, like winding streams, are, all thanks to the constant sea breeze.
Such expensive and precious things, how could anyone bear to cruelly destroy them! Ah, what a waste of resources, where is justice!
Before Mu Junyan could finish speaking, a man's nonchalant yet ethereal voice came from behind the screen.
Would you like to hear my story?
"No need... I wouldn't dare."
Who would have thought that the mighty King Yama, the ruler of the underworld, would be so subservient and pitiful, like a lowly servant?
After a while, Mu Junyan asked again, "Do you need me to find you a different place to rest? Trust me, there will be a place more beautiful and comfortable than the underworld."
The man's gaze drifted from behind the screen, though he clearly didn't open his eyes: "No need. The underworld is fine, very safe."
Mu Junyan, who had lived for tens of thousands of years, had never been so devastated. You're safe! But his little devils are in grave danger!!!
Please, have mercy and spare his poor little devils. Every time they see him, they are so frightened that their souls scatter and they run away in all directions. Many of them are so scared that they jump into the River of Oblivion, their souls scattered and they can never be reincarnated.
The order of the underworld gradually descended into chaos, which increased his workload several times over.
Please have some understanding for working people!
"I promise you, I won't wander off."
This person has such an ability; a light, ethereal word brushes past your ear, and your anger and fear vanish in an instant.
The fear and anger in Mu Junyan's heart disappeared, but she was still aggrieved: "My lord, you have destroyed my rosewood table."
The man paused slightly.
With a single touch of his hand on the pulverized rosewood table, it instantly returned to its original state. It was as if what Mu Junyan had just witnessed was merely a dream, an illusion.
A rosewood table flew out from behind the screen and landed in front of Mu Junyan.
"feasible?"
"Alright, alright! My lord, you can stay as long as you want." Mu Junyan's face was filled with the joy of something lost and found. He had been the King of Hell for so many years, and he rarely had any emotional fluctuations. He didn't have any hobbies, and the only things he could name were rosewood and golden nanmu.
These are priceless treasures, priceless!
The smile on Mu Junyan's face didn't last long before she heard the man speak again.
"Is the woman in the underworld notice picture... pretty?"
Mu Junyan was stunned. Remembering the person's eyes that had never been opened, he replied, "All ghosts, past and present, would stop and linger upon seeing it. All ghosts would be unable to move."
The man toyed with a thin, long, light blue trinket in his hand and chuckled softly, "Really? That's an exaggeration."
Since this person arrived, Mu Junyan had torn down and put away all the maps. He didn't know how the other person had seen them; was he interested in Wu Yue because he asked this question? Probably not; he didn't seem like the type to judge people by their appearance.
So many beautiful female ghosts have been coming and going on the Bridge of Helplessness these past few days, but he hasn't paid much attention to them or cared much about them.
"Alright, if there's nothing else, you may leave."
Upon hearing this, Mu Junyan felt a great sense of relief. He didn't even want to walk anymore, his favorite basic exercise, and teleported away.
The man's thumb stroked the delicate little horn on the head of the blue trinket as he casually leaned against the windowsill, where the view outside had remained unchanged for ten years. "Ah Qing, the time... is almost up."
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