The appearance of Erlang Shen was something Ye Wushuang had never anticipated.
However, upon seeing these three familiar figures, he was filled with delight.
Because now he could finally be certain—the Heavenly Court of myth truly existed.
Perhaps, someday, he really would have a chance to return home.
As for Ye Wushuang’s thoughts, no one else knew.
Most people’s attention was fixed firmly on Erlang Shen and the others.
Anyone who laid eyes on Erlang Shen felt a chill of fear.
The auras radiating from Erlang Shen and his companions were simply too overwhelming. Even one of them could rival an Invincible Supreme, let alone all three appearing together.
Especially Erlang Shen—merely standing there, he exuded an immense pressure on everyone.
It was as if his very existence represented the supreme laws of the universe.
Such a being made even Yemotian’s Invincible Supremes’ scalps tingle with dread.
“Hiss! Is this really just a heavenly tribulation? Since when did such terrifying tribulations exist in this world?!”
“I’ve never heard of such a fearsome tribulation either, but I can say with certa
“Were all of those just dreams?” Wang Han stared blankly at his own hands, trying to relax them, then clench them, repeating this a few times. Yet, it felt no different from being in a dream—the sensation of touch was incredibly real.
Still, it did make a certain kind of sense to call those experiences “dreams.”
First, there was the dream of Shen Ge “dissecting” a corpse. Wang Han simply couldn’t believe that a child could produce such bloody, terrifying images.
Second, there were those mutilated limbs in the operating room. He had worked at the hospital for years, and even the morgue wouldn’t have a scene like that—it looked more like something from a slaughterhouse.
Finally, and most crucially, Wang Han had clearly driven off a cliff. Not only did he survive the crash, but by the next day, his injuries had completely healed. That just didn’t add up.
And let’s not even mention running into Ma Chao in the village at the foot of the mountain, a man who wore a deadpan expression the entire time and could eat those rancid, foul-smelling things without even blinking.
“Are you okay?” Ma Chao asked.
Wang Han rubbed his forehead with one hand and waved the other. “I… I’m fine. Probably just overtired. I’ll be okay after some rest.”
“Then ask the director for some time off. Don’t push yourself to the point of collapse. Our hospital is a bit special to begin with. If you’re having issues because of the patients, it’s best to take a break,” Ma Chao suggested.
Wang Han nodded. “Yeah.”
Ma Chao had a nurse check Wang Han over. Once they confirmed he was fine, he left the ward with the others.
Wang Han lay on the hospital bed, staring blankly at the white ceiling and the white fluorescent light, still mulling over whether it was all a dream or reality.
“Were they really all just dreams?” Recalling the scenes from his dreams, Wang Han truly couldn’t tell the difference between reality and illusion anymore.
“Phew. Looks like Ma Chao was right—I’ve been working too hard lately. I’ll talk to the director tomorrow and ask for an extended leave to rest,” Wang Han murmured to himself.
Even though he couldn’t tell if what he’d been through was real or a dream, he had been tossing and turning all night, and his mind was utterly exhausted.
Staring at the ceiling, drowsiness quickly crept over him, and he drifted into a deep sleep. In his daze, he vaguely heard someone calling his name.
The voices sounded familiar—one male, one female. The former sounded a bit like Shen Ge, but it wasn’t the voice of a ten-year-old child; it sounded more like an adult. The latter… he knew that voice too, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t remember who it belonged to.
Just as Wang Han was sleeping soundly, he suddenly felt a gust of cold wind brush past him, like an icy dagger grazing his neck, jolting him awake.
Bzzz… Bzzz…
Wang Han opened his eyes. The ceiling was still the same white ceiling, but the fluorescent light was dimmer, flickering slightly as if the voltage was unstable.
A sense of dread suddenly gripped Wang Han’s heart, because the last time he saw those terrifying images, it had also happened right after the lights started flickering.
Then, he felt the bed creak gently, swaying back and forth. Something seemed to be crawling underneath, making a faint rustling sound.
The empty ward was eerily quiet, and those tiny sounds seemed magnified infinitely. Wang Han felt a wave of unease and panic wash over him.
Instinctively, he reached for the red call button by his bed to contact the front desk nurse and the doctor on duty. But he pressed it several times—nothing happened.
“Hello? Anyone there?”
“Hey!”
“Someone! Anyone!”
Wang Han shouted a few times. But there was no response, not even from outside the ward—only the faint rustling from beneath the bed.
“Who’s there?”
“Who is it?”
Several minutes passed. Wang Han felt the temperature in the room drop noticeably—it was so cold he shivered involuntarily. He pulled the blanket over himself without thinking, wrapping up tightly.
This was just too eerie. It felt like being thrown into an ice cellar. The terrifying sense of reality told Wang Han once again: this was not a dream!
Wang Han was so scared he curled up entirely under the blanket, praying that someone would walk in to check on him. But the noise under the bed grew louder. Even tucked under the covers, he felt a cold draft brush past his ears, his neck, the back of his head—as if someone ice-cold was leaning over him, trailing fingers across his body.
“Haah… haah…”
Wang Han’s breathing grew rapid. The fear rising from the very depths of his heart was gradually consuming his consciousness.
He had pulled the blanket tightly around himself, but now he felt a piercing chill at his back. The blanket began to bulge, as if someone else was under there with him.
Wang Han nervously turned his head—and found himself face to face with a pale, wrinkled face that looked like an eighty- or ninety-year-old.
He had seen this face several times before: once under Shen Ge’s bed in the ward, and once in the pot in that mountain village dream…
“Aaaaah—!!!”
“AHHHHH!!!”
Wang Han screamed and shot up from the bed like a spring. The bed wasn’t big, and in his panicked flailing, he tumbled right off and hit the floor.
He looked back at the bed in terror—but strangely, there was nothing there. It was as if the old man had never appeared at all.
“How is that possible…”
Even though the old man was gone, Wang Han didn’t dare stay in that ward a second longer. He scrambled toward the door.
BANG!
Just as he was about to reach the door, a deafening crash came from the other side—like someone was slamming a sledgehammer against it. Wang Han froze, skidding to a halt and falling flat on his rear.
“Who’s there?! Is anyone out there?!”
Trembling, Wang Han forced himself to stand. His legs were shaking so badly he could barely stay upright. He crept toward the door, pulled it open just a crack, and peered out.
The hallway was pitch black. Light from the room spilled through the gap, illuminating a puddle of melted, gooey flesh—and in that fleshy mess were several eyeballs, staring straight at him from the darkness.
“AHHHH—!!”
SLAM!
Wang Han yanked the door shut in terror, pressing his full weight against it, terrified that whatever was out there would break through.
“It’s a dream. This is all a dream.”
“Hallucinations. It can’t be real—it’s all hallucinations.”
“Hallucinations! Hallucinations!”
“You can’t scare me!”
Wang Han suddenly yelled out loud—whether to pump himself up or to hypnotize himself into believing it was all a dream, he wasn’t sure.
After taking a moment to compose himself, Wang Han stood up again and slowly opened the door. With a grating screech, it swung open to reveal the pitch-black corridor beyond—not a single light on, deathly silent.
The fleshy sludge and the eyes were gone. As if it really had all been just a “hallucination.”
“See? Hallucinations. They were hallucinations.” Wang Han kept repeating it in his mind, as if trying to convince himself beyond all doubt.
“Hey.”
Then, a voice came from right behind him.
Wang Han let out a yelp and jumped to the side, spinning around. Terrified of seeing that horrifying old man again, he instinctively raised a hand to cover his face.
But instead, he saw a ten-year-old child sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs idly. It was Shen Ge—the same Shen Ge who had “disappeared” in his dreams earlier.
Except this Shen Ge looked different from before. Gone was the skin-and-bones starvation look; he now appeared like a normal ten-year-old, albeit with a pale, bloodless face. He was staring at Wang Han with an amused, almost teasing expression.
“Sh-Shen Ge?” Wang Han called out hesitantly.
He was already on edge. He was terrified that in the middle of their conversation, the boy would suddenly morph back into that terrible old man and scare him all over again.
“Do you want to get out of here?” Shen Ge asked.
Did he even need to ask?
Wang Han nodded without the slightest hesitation.
“I’ll take you out.” Shen Ge hopped off the bed and walked toward the door.
Wang Han hesitated. “You?”
He wanted to say: you’re just a ten-year-old kid, and a tightly-monitored “patient” at that—how are you, of all people, going to lead me out?
Shen Ge nodded confidently. “Of course. Do you trust me?”
Wang Han was about to retort, “Where do you get that kind of confidence?”—but his head seemed to move on its own, and he found himself nodding, almost involuntarily. As if the person speaking to him wasn’t a ten-year-old child, but a trusted old friend.
“Follow me. Don’t lose me,” Shen Ge said, opening the door and stepping out.
Wang Han hurried after him. “Wait up!”
The dark corridor offered no visibility and was utterly silent. The only sound was Shen Ge counting—”One step, two steps, three steps”—as if to help Wang Han keep pace with him precisely.
“Where are we going? And why is this place like this? Where are all the doctors and nurses?” Wang Han asked.
Strangely, though he purposely kept his voice low so only Shen Ge could hear, his words echoed back from the silent corridor, as if he had shouted them at the top of his lungs.
Wang Han shut his mouth immediately. Shen Ge didn’t answer his questions either—he just kept counting as he walked forward. After a few minutes, he said, “Turn right. Watch the stairs.”
Wang Han hesitated, then turned right—but he didn’t react in time and tripped over the stairs, tumbling down several steps. In the chaos, Shen Ge grabbed his arm, and Wang Han managed to find the iron railing, steadying himself. Still, he was bruised and wincing in pain.
“Where… where are we even going?” Wang Han asked through gritted teeth.
He had assumed Shen Ge would lead him straight out of the inpatient building and into the courtyard outside. But it seemed they were heading downstairs.
And he knew perfectly well that the basement had nothing but a single morgue.
“Keep up,” Shen Ge said, offering no explanation, only urging him onward.
Wang Han found himself longing for the ward—even with its flickering lights, at least it had light. But he was already in too deep; he had no choice but to follow.
He followed Shen Ge to the basement level. Strangely, the first floor had no lights, but the basement corridor lights were on—though very dim, and he could hear a faint electrical buzz, like they could go out at any second.
Not far ahead, a red indicator light hung outside a room, with the words “MORGUE” written on it in red lettering. The font felt eerily similar to the “OPERATING ROOM” sign from before—it looked like it was slowly melting, like blood.
Wang Han swallowed hard and asked nervously, “Shen Ge… what are we doing… here?”
Shen Ge turned to look at him. On that ten-year-old face was a playful, knowing smirk. He smiled and asked, “Are you scared?”
Wang Han froze, then gave an awkward laugh. “A kid like you isn’t scared, so a grown man like me—okay, fine. I am a little scared. There’s something off about this place. Let’s not go in, alright? Let’s just turn around and get out of this godforsaken place.”
Under Shen Ge’s teasing gaze, Wang Han caved and admitted the truth. But Shen Ge only said softly, “Wang Han, think about it carefully. You… shouldn’t be afraid of this. You should be used to it by now. You can remember.”
“What do you mean?” Wang Han asked, confused.
Shen Ge said nothing. He simply pushed open the door to the morgue. With a long creak, it swung open.
The room wasn’t large—metal cabinets lined the walls on both sides, and in the center were a dozen or so stretcher beds, each draped with a white sheet covering a body.
A single dim white light hung in the middle of the room. The whole space was thick with an ominous, chilling atmosphere that made Wang Han freeze in place.
Shen Ge walked inside, pulled a chair over, and stood beside the first body. He looked back at Wang Han. “Come in. What are you standing there for?”
Wang Han felt like he was about to cry. Sure, it was embarrassing that a ten-year-old had more nerve than him, but at this moment, he was so scared he was practically numb—who cared about pride?
“I—I’ll, uh, stay out here,” Wang Han refused flat-out.
Shen Ge asked, “Don’t you want to know who it is?”
“Huh?” Wang Han blinked. From Shen Ge’s tone, it seemed the person under that sheet was someone he either knew or had at least seen before.
It wasn’t that old man again, was it?
Wang Han swallowed, forced down his fear, and cautiously approached the bed. But Shen Ge wasn’t one for wasting time—he yanked the sheet off in one swift motion.
“AHHH!”
Wang Han instinctively screamed. But when he saw the corpse’s face, he froze completely—because it wasn’t that terrifying old man. It was… Ma Chao.
“Ma Chao?! This—how—how is this possible?” Wang Han couldn’t believe his eyes. He had just seen Ma Chao before falling asleep—there was no way he could have died overnight.
“Wanna know how he died?” Shen Ge asked.
Before Wang Han could refuse, Shen Ge pulled out a scalpel from seemingly nowhere and plunged it straight into Ma Chao’s chest, then sliced downward, splitting his entire abdomen open.
“URGH—”
Wang Han couldn’t hold it in. He threw up. But after heaving for a while, he realized there was nothing in his stomach—just dry heaving, spitting out a bit of saliva.
“What—are you—doing…” Wang Han felt like he was losing his mind. He couldn’t understand why a ten-year-old was so fascinated by dissection.
Shen Ge kept cutting through Ma Chao’s intestines with the scalpel, then gave a flick—the blade lifted up a pitch-black, wriggling worm that was very much alive. “Looks familiar?”
Fighting the urge to vomit again, Wang Han stared at the worm. A strange sense of déjà vu hit him—and then it clicked. Wasn’t this the same thing he’d seen in that basin inside Ma Chao’s kitchen cabinet?
From Wang Han’s expression, Shen Ge could tell he’d remembered. He hopped off the chair and walked over to the second bed, his fingers pinching the white sheet. “Looks like you remember. Well then… you’re definitely going to be more interested in this body.”
“?”
Under Wang Han’s bewildered gaze, Shen Ge pulled off the second sheet. When he saw the face of the corpse, Wang Han was completely stunned.
Because it wasn’t someone else. It was… him. Wang Han himself.
inty—this is a heavenly tribulation!!”
“This… this is a tribulation that completely overturns everything we thought we knew!”
Even as Invincible Supremes, they had never witnessed a tribulation this horrifying.
Frankly, even they weren’t confident they could survive it.
And so, they were utterly stunned into silence.
At the same time, they felt grateful—grateful that they hadn’t acted recklessly.
If they had charged forward rashly and gotten caught up in that tribulation, they, too, would most certainly face certain death.
And it wasn’t just these Invincible Supremes who felt this way—even the Quasi-Emperor Realm experts shared the same sentiment.
“This tribulation is way too terrifying. If I went in there, I’d die without a doubt!”
“It’s not just you—I think even the Divine Dragon Empress and her people would be doomed as well!”
“In that case, we don’t even need to bother finding trouble with them anymore. They’ll just die under that tribulation on their own!”
Once this line of reasoning spread, many nodded in agreement.
Ye Wushuang’s tribulation was absolutely dreadful—they simply couldn’t believe he could survive something so monstrous.
They were even more convinced that the Divine Dragon Empress and Ye Wushuang would meet their end here.
However, even with that certainty in their hearts, they had no intention of leaving just yet.
They wanted to stay and watch—to see if the Divine Dragon Empress and Ye Wushuang would truly die, to witness exactly how Ye Wushuang would perish.
But then, once Erlang Shen appeared, the entire great world where Ye Wushuang stood became shrouded in obscurity.
The overwhelmingly powerful force of the tribulation enveloped the whole world completely.
No one else could tell what was happening inside the tribulation.
Only the Invincible Supremes could vaguely make out a sliver of information.
Meanwhile, after Marshal Tianpeng and the others appeared, Marshal Tianpeng greeted Ye Wushuang quite amiably.
“Kid, we meet again!”
“Greetings, Marshal Tianpeng!”
“Greetings, Third Prince!”
“Greetings, Erlang Zhenjun!”
Upon hearing Marshal Tianpeng address him, Ye Wushuang didn’t hesitate for a moment and immediately bowed in respect.
These were all figures who might help him return home someday, so he had to build good rapport with them.
When Nezha and Erlang Shen heard Ye Wushuang address them so formally, they both took a second look at him.
Erlang Shen didn’t say much, but Nezha was noticeably more lively and talkative.
“You know who I am?”
“Your Highness the Third Prince’s fame has spread far and wide across the world—how could I not know you?!”
“Good! Good! Good! Well said! I, Nezha, am famous throughout the land, so of course you’d know me!”
“I’ll go easy on you in our match later!”
Hearing that Ye Wushuang truly recognized him, Nezha was absolutely delighted.
And because of that, he declared outright that he would hold back.
Neither Erlang Shen nor the others said anything about his declaration.
And Ye Wushuang himself also kept silent.
Then, with mutual understanding, they immediately made their move.
“Everyone, be careful—this kid’s law power is pretty strong!”
Marshal Tianpeng had suffered losses at Ye Wushuang’s hands before, so he warned the others the moment the battle began.
Unfortunately for him, even that warning didn’t make much of a difference.
The moment the battle started, Ye Wushuang activated his Jie Character Secret, multiplying his power tenfold.
At the same time, his voice rang out clearly in the ears of Marshal Tianpeng and his group.
“Seal!”
As those two words were spoken, Ye Wushuang’s Ten Great Cave Heavens also manifested.
Those immensely powerful cave heavens amplified his Sealing Law several times over.
And after his Nirvana, Ye Wushuang had become significantly stronger than before.
Because of that, just by shouting the word “Seal,” he managed to freeze all three of them—Marshal Tianpeng, Nezha, and Erlang Shen—in place.
The three of them stood frozen like wooden statues high above the nine heavens.
This stunned Marshal Tianpeng and the others, while Ye Wushuang let out a breath of relief.
With them sealed, the rest would be much easier to handle.
With that thought, a sword appeared in Ye Wushuang’s hand.
Though it felt a bit underhanded to kill Marshal Tianpeng and the others, they wouldn’t truly die anyway.
So Ye Wushuang carried no mental burden about it.
However, just as he was about to strike, the third eye of the sealed Erlang Shen suddenly flashed with divine light.
And then, Erlang Shen broke free from the seal.
“Your Sealing Law is indeed impressive. Had it been anyone else, they might have fallen for it!”
“Erlang Zhenjun truly lives up to your title. I didn’t expect even my Sealing Law to be useless against you.”
“In that case, I’ll have to properly spar with you, Zhenjun!”
With that, Ye Wushuang swung his sword through the air, slashing directly at Erlang Shen.
This strike was infused with an immensely powerful Sword Law.
At a glance, it looked like just a simple slash.
But anyone standing in its path would inevitably feel an overwhelming sense of pressure.
This slash was like the sharpest blade between heaven and earth, bearing down straight on Erlang Shen.
Yet even facing such a terrifying attack, Erlang Shen showed not a hint of panic.
He simply raised his Three-Pointed Double-Edged Spear and swept it forcefully, deflecting Ye Wushuang’s sword strike with ease.
There was no denying it—Erlang Shen’s combat prowess was on an entirely different level from Marshal Tianpeng’s.
Marshal Tianpeng and Nezha were still frozen in place, but Erlang Shen and Ye Wushuang were already locked in a battle that shook the very heavens.
The sword light and spear edge they unleashed seemed as though they could split the entire world apart—truly terrifying to behold.
