Chapter Sixty-Two: Marshal Ox

Lu Li stood frozen in place, his face contorted with terror as he glanced frantically around, muttering under his breath, “Impossible, utterly impossible! Just a soul arrest by a minor underworld officer—how could it possibly alarm him enough to appear in person?”

From Lu Li’s reaction, I could tell he recognized the owner of that voice. So, Wang Feiyang and I immediately pressed him: who was it?

Lu Li hadn’t yet answered when, before us, in the very center of what had been an empty plaza, a circular vortex about ten yards wide suddenly materialized. Silver lightning crackled inside it, and then, slowly, a colossal bull’s head emerged from the swirling depths.

The instant the bull’s head surfaced, the hundreds of underworld officers who had just caught up behind us dropped to their knees almost simultaneously. In unison, they shouted, “Salutations, Marshal Ox!”

The cry thundered, shaking heaven and earth, resounding from the highest skies to the deepest underworld.

“Marshal Ox!”

In that moment, both Wang Feiyang and I were dumbstruck. Lu Li, meanwhile, kept muttering that it couldn’t be, it absolutely couldn’t be.

Grandfather’s face was grim, his eyes fixed on the rising figure of Marshal Ox, instinctively shielding the three of us behind him.

Soon, Marshal Ox’s full body rose from the vortex, standing motionless at the center of the plaza like a demonic deity.

I use the word “standing” because Marshal Ox’s frame was simply immense—over ten yards tall, his whole body black as ink, muscles bulging and knotted like coiling dragons wrapping his form.

He wore a gleaming black marshal’s robe, and beneath the horns, each nearly a yard long, his fist-sized eyes shone like luminous pearls, emitting a haunting, soul-stirring glow.

Faced with such overwhelming presence, I suddenly felt as small as an ant, my legs trembling, seized by an urge to kneel and worship.

“Ox-Head and Horse-Face, Black and White Impermanence!” These soul-guides, famous in folk tales for untold generations, their images had long been ingrained in everyone’s mind.

I had imagined the bull’s head countless times before; when I was a child, whenever I misbehaved, grandfather would frighten me, saying that if I ran around at night, Ox-Head and Horse-Face would catch and eat me.

They became nightmares for me as a child, and I often dreamed of being devoured by them. Never did I imagine that one day I would encounter the legendary Ox-Head in such a scene.

All around was deathly silent, broken only by the heavy breaths Marshal Ox exhaled from his enormous nostrils.

He first swept his massive gaze across the surroundings, his entire being radiating authority, like a deity surveying mortals from on high.

At last, Marshal Ox fixed his gaze on Lu Li.

“Are you the child that Drunkard Ding rescued from Lu Family Town those years ago?”

Lu Li nodded nervously, saying that when Marshal Ox visited our Mount Shu, it was he, as a junior, who served wine to Marshal Ox, and later, when the marshal was drunk, he sent people to escort him to a carriage.

No wonder Lu Li had looked so terrified upon hearing that voice—they shared such history.

Hearing Lu Li address Ox-Head as “Ancestor”—under ordinary circumstances, I would have laughed at him, since it was like admitting he was a descendant of a wild ox. But at this moment, I couldn’t muster the slightest smile. Marshal Ox had existed for at least a thousand years, and from his words, he and Lu Li’s master, Drunkard Ding, had some acquaintance. Even Drunkard Ding would have to address himself as a junior before Marshal Ox; Lu Li calling him “Ancestor” was only natural.

A faint smile appeared on the stern face of Ox-Head. He said that the drinking contest back then was delightful, thanks to Lu Li’s constant pouring of wine, and even now, he still felt unsatisfied, as if the strength of the drink hadn’t worn off. He remarked that the child who poured him wine had grown so much in the blink of an eye.

Then Ox-Head laughed heartily. “I’ve just acquired a jug of heavenly nectar. Tell your master Drunkard Ding, if he has time, let him cross over to the underworld. I won’t let him leave until we’re both drunk!”

Lu Li hurriedly nodded, bowing respectfully to Marshal Ox and agreeing.

Wang Feiyang, beside him, looked at Lu Li in confusion, muttering that last time Marshal Ox drank with his master, Lu Li was only a child.

Lu Li replied he was eight years old.

Both Wang Feiyang and I were stunned. Lu Li was now at least twenty-four or twenty-five. I was curious what kind of wine could keep Marshal Ox intoxicated for over a decade.

After greeting Lu Li, Marshal Ox finally turned his gaze toward grandfather, his voice returning to the cold, commanding tone from before.

“Wu Zhenlong, do you admit your guilt?”

Grandfather was silent for a moment, then nodded, saying he did, and looked at Marshal Ox with grave seriousness. “Marshal Ox is a commander of the underworld—your words are law.”

“No need for more words. Come with me to the underworld for punishment. I won’t trouble your three juniors.”

With that, Marshal Ox’s massive form slowly began to descend back toward the black vortex. As he did, he swept his huge bovine gaze over me.

My heart skipped a beat; it felt as if Ox-Head had seen something, perhaps even peered into my Netherworld Book.

I grew tense, but forced myself to remain calm, careful not to betray anything. If Ox-Head discovered the Netherworld Book and the Hell King Seal on me, the consequences would be dire.

Ultimately, Ox-Head looked me over for about twenty seconds, then withdrew his gaze, seemingly finding nothing.

I breathed a sigh of relief; Elder Di Yi hadn’t deceived me—so long as the Hell King Seal was sealed within my Nine Yin Absolute Pulse, even the Lord of the Underworld himself could not discover these two peerless treasures hidden within me.

As Marshal Ox faded into the vortex, the crowd of underworld officers followed after him.

None of them shackled grandfather; he willingly followed behind them.

With Marshal Ox present, grandfather’s fate was sealed—no matter what we did now, it would be futile.

“Grandfather!”

I rushed toward him, only to be stopped by his stern rebuke. I halted, eyes red, watching as he sank steadily toward the vortex, my heart torn apart.

“Wu Dao, remember my words—live well!”

He spoke, then did not look back, quickly vanishing into the vortex.

All the underworld officers followed him, until the great vortex disappeared completely.

I stared at the now empty plaza, dropped to my knees with a thud, clenching my fists so hard my nails dug deep into my flesh.

“Grandfather, wait for me! I promise, one day, I’ll bring you back from hell!”

Long after the underworld officers departed, I remained kneeling by the street, unwilling to rise. Lu Li and Wang Feiyang stood beside me, expressionless, saying nothing.

Just then, a Honda sedan sped past us. Perhaps I was blocking its path; the driver leaned out the window and cursed loudly, asking if I was looking for death.

I ignored him. Wang Feiyang immediately drew his bamboo blade and hacked the car door with a single stroke.

The driver was startled, slammed the accelerator, and sped away.

“Are you done grieving?” Wang Feiyang tucked the blade back at his waist, looking at me without expression. “If you’ve cried enough, let’s drink. I’m hungry.”

I wiped the tears from my eyes, slowly stood, turned to Wang Feiyang and Lu Li, and forced a stiff smile.