The reaper set off, then paused and glanced back. “Stick close. I have the authority to fly across the Sanzu, but you don’t. If you get too far from me, you’ll fall into its waters, and I’ll have to fish you out again. Don’t cause any more extra work for me!”

Hui nodded. “Many apologies for all the overtime small cultivator might have caused for Elder Sister.”

She snorted. “As if that’s enough to compensate for the years I’ve had to keep an eye on you. You’d better work hard and pick up your half of the slack quick around here!”

“Years?” Hui asked, surprised. I really lost track of time in there. I have no idea how long I was under. It—it could be centuries! It’s a cultivation world, after all. Everyone I know and love could already be long since dead—

“Ten long years,” the reaper emphasized, letting the exhaustion come out in her voice.

“Oh,” Hui said. That’s not so bad. Even if my children failed in cultivation, they should still be alive—

Wait, my kids. It’s been ten years! I totally abandoned them. Fuck! I didn’t want to do that! I wanted to be there and help raise them… dammit! I messed up! I messed up bad!

The reaper frowned at him. “What is it now?”

“Nothing. I’m just… reflecting on the joy of childrearing,” Hui sighed melodramatically.

The reaper scoffed. “Joy? I saved you from ten years of dealing with shit. Literally.”

“Surely it isn’t all bad,” Hui said wistfully.

“Ha, well. That’s a man’s perspective, isn’t it,” the reaper grumbled bitterly.

Hui looked at her. “Elder Sister… did you have a bad experience with children?”

She snorted. “Hmph.”

She doesn’t want to talk about it? It is a very personal question, after all. Hui pressed his lips together, regret welling up in him. Whether childrearing is a good or bad experience, I meant to be there. Alongside Bai Xue, and… and if I got lucky, Li Xiang, too. I didn’t want to abandon my kids the way my dad abandoned me.

But here I am. Abandoning them, like a total shitball. Man. I really fucked up this time, huh? Hui shook his head, disappointed in himself.

The reaper looked at him. “What? You aren’t really broken up about that, are you?”

Hui took a deep breath and sighed. “I… I don’t want anyone to experience the same things I did. My father… wasn’t really present. And when he was, he…” Hui shook his head. “I wanted to be there. Be a positive influence. But… instead, I’m…”

“You’re dead,” the reaper said flatly.

“I know, but—”

“You died. You’re only getting this second chance because Zhu Diyu has taken a liking to you. So stop your complaining and suck it up. After all, if not for Zhu Diyu, you wouldn’t even have the ability to regret that you can’t be there for those children of yours.”

“But still—” Hui shook his head. Leaving a burden on the others around me… I didn’t mean to do that. I wasn’t thinking straight at the time. Or rather, I thought there wasn’t much hope for me on this side. I knew Zhu Diyu had his eye on me, but then, so does Heaven. I might have been falling directly into a trap, and never open my eyes again.

I knew there was a possibility I might not fully die, a chance I was banking on, but even so, it was a slim chance. A chance I couldn’t completely rely on. Better to do the things I’ve always wanted to do once and for all than regret that I couldn’t do them before I died, I thought. Just in case it went wrong, and I didn’t wake up.

But now that I’m on the other side and still… myself, still awake and alive, I—

The reaper rolled her eyes. “If you’re lucky, you might be able to watch over them from this side. There, are you happy now?”

Hui nodded, slowly. “It’s… better than nothing,” he muttered.

A second later, he perked up. “Wait. Children?”

“Huh?” the reaper asked, frowning at him.

“Elder Sister said ‘children of yours.’ Plural. Does that mean, then, that means, that Li Xiang and I, too—” Hui said excitedly.

The reaper smacked him on the head. “Are you excited you have children or depressed about it? Make up your mind.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Hui said, ducking away from her.

They reached the other side of the river. The reaper straightened her robes. “Alright. Stand up straight and look sharp. We’re going in front of the big boss right now, after all.”

“The big boss… that is, Lord Yama?” Hui asked.

“It hasn’t been anyone named Yama for a long time. The role of head of the Underworld is one that can be occupied by any sufficiently powerful immortal,” the reaper explained flatly. “Ah, though… I don’t know that a single Lord of the Underworld has ever transferred power while still alive.”

A bloody succession, then. Hui glanced at the current Lord of the Underworld. Zhu Diyu sat atop his throne, long, blood-red hair draped over his shoulder. The throne was carved from pitch black obsidian, and Zhu Diyu wore all black, making the swathe of red all the more striking.

Catching him eyeing Zhu Diyu’s hair, the reaper leaned in and whispered, “They say it turned red from all the blood of the enemies that splattered onto it in battle.”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Hui gulped. I’ll need to make it clear that small cultivator has no interest in the throne, none at all! Zhu Diyu, you can remain as Lord of the Underworld for all eternity, as far as I care!

Though… I guess, probably, I pose no threat to him as I am now. My cultivation has fallen all the way back down to fifth realm… well, in the first place, surging to seventh realm was only something I could do temporarily, in my previous state. As I am now… He looked at his palms. I could… once I heal, and gather enough qi, probably… could enter seventh realm again!

After all, my dao…

Hui paused. My dao is faking death, but I’m already dead. How am I supposed to pursue my dao while I’m dead?

No, wait. I’m pretty sure my dao went beyond faking death, but… He scratched his head. I can’t remember? But I feel like… It was something like…

The reaper knocked him on the side of the head gently. “Don’t try to reach enlightenment right now, you idiot. You’ll undo all that healing we put you through.”

“Ah, sorry,” Hui said, bowing shortly.

“Give it some time to heal,” she admonished him, shaking her head.

Aww, Reaper-Sis does care! Hui thought, smiling to himself.

The reaper’s eyes glittered. She clenched her fist. “I can’t have my brand-new worker bee taking sick days right off the bat. You’re taking on some of my workload, at long last!”

Hui shied away. I take it back. Er, can I go home? I think I have a headache…

They approached Zhu Diyu. As they drew closer, he sat up and smiled slightly at them. Dismissing the waiting souls with a wave, he nodded. “You’ve awakened?”

Hui bowed low. “Thanks to your beneficence.”

Zhu Diyu smiled mysteriously. “Wonderful. I’ve had my eye on you for a time. Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve caused us?”

Hui lowered himself into a kowtow. “Please forgive this small one for daring to fake his death so many times! I didn’t mean to distract Elder Sister Reaper so much—”

Zhu Diyu waved his hand. “Not that.”

Falling silent, Hui furrowed his brows at the floor. Eh? What does he mean, then?

“A soul outside of this world’s karma crept in and caused no end of chaos to everything. We, who manage the cycle of reincarnation and the balance of mortal karma, did you think we would not notice your disturbance? To undo the things you had done…” Zhu Diyu trailed off.

Oh shit! They know I’m from another world, too? Hui trembled. Master…!

“Accelerating your Master’s ascension accelerated the downfall of Starbound Sect, which in turn accelerates the deterioration of All-Heavens and the eventual crumbling of the Southern Sect alliance. Because your Master ascended so early, he failed to meet his fated disciple in the lower realms. Problems, problems, problems!” Zhu Diyu grumbled.

Failed to meet…? Hui cleared his throat timidly. “Er, if small cultivator might be bold enough to ask… was his fated disciple, perhaps…”

“That’s correct. Ying Lin,” Zhu Diyu said. He sighed. “Luckily, karma has a way of correcting itself. Your meeting with her was the assertion of forces outside even our control, a reconnection of the broken threads of fate.”

Hui let out a sigh. Thank goodness! Ah, that explains so much, too. Why Master was always disappointed in my growth, and why Ying Lin grew so fast! The two were fated for each other.

But wait, then… Hui cleared his throat again.

“Go on,” Zhu Diyu said.

“Was… was Starbound Sect meant to fall when Ying Lin ascended, instead of Master?” he asked.

Zhu Diyu waved his hand. “These things… we cannot know. Karma is not something that one can see clearly ahead of time. It is the actions sown and reaped. Although some things may be preordained, or perhaps, likely to happen, once one has stirred the great workings of karma and shifted their order, the original cloudy chain stretching into the future becomes so clouded that it cannot be read. I am not one who worries overmuch on the fate of the world, and so, I cannot remember the precise timing of these things, as karma was originally meant to proceed.”

“So then—” Then, is it fine that I mucked with the order of things, and brought back Starbound Sect? Hui wondered.

“What you mean to ask is meaningless. Once the die has been cast, it cannot be withdrawn. In the air, if your reflexes are fast enough and your eyes quick enough, you might predict where it lands and what face it shows, but if a stray wind blows or it strikes a hair you could not see, then it might show a different face anyways. That I saw the way the die would land is irrelevant, ultimately, when you have snatched the die from the air and rerolled it entirely.”

Hui nodded slowly. I think I understand…? Rather than a rigid and predetermined thing, karma is more like a chain of occurrences. I wasn’t part of that chain, so naturally, adding me altered it, but it is the nature of the chain that until one experiences it, anything might happen. Thus, although I altered the original order of karma, it was never certain to begin with, and so my alteration can be overlooked… or something?

“In any case, you are dead,” Zhu Diyu declared.

“Yes,” Hui agreed.

“But I have taken an interest in you, and we happen to be down a reaper. Mamian will show you the ropes, and soon, you will be able to take on the role of reaper yourself,” Zhu Diyu intoned, leaning back. There was a finality to his words that suggested he did not wish to be questioned or countered.

Hui gulped. He licked his lips. “Er, but, I… is there a way this small cultivator can return to life?”

Zhu Diyu shrugged. “Would I tell you if I knew?”

“It might motivate me,” Hui said, shrugging back.

Zhu Diyu looked at him, his face suddenly cold and expressionless.

“Ah! Excuse me. I didn’t mean to imply that Senior needed to exert himself to motivate this small cultivator. No, no. One as buglike as myself would never presume that someone as lofty as Senior would need to act directly to receive my full effort and whole-hearted labor!” Hui cried, bowing even deeper until his forehead pressed against the floor.

“Alright, that’s enough,” the reaper said. She yanked him up by the collar and set him on his feet. “Let’s get started. There’s plenty of souls that need to be reaped today, and I’m already behind.”

“Yes, yes. Let’s do that,” Hui agreed, not daring to look at Zhu Diyu. I didn’t mean to immediately piss off the Lord of the Underworld on my first day! Whoops.

Ah, but on the other hand… he didn’t reply. Doesn’t that indicate… that there’s still hope for me? A way to return to life?

Hui glanced down at his stomach. He smiled slightly. It seems like all my preparations weren’t in vain. This small cultivator isn’t going to stay dead for long! Li Xiang, Bai Xue, Xingxue, Zhubi… everyone, wait for me! I’m coming back!

On his throne, Zhu Diyu chuckled lightly. He cast a silent look down at the two cultivators and shook his head.

Hui trembled. Er, he isn’t reading my thoughts, is he? Senior, please—please ignore those previous thoughts! A slip of the mind, that’s all. I’m thinking about labor, labor! Nothing but long, hard hours and work, work, work on this small cultivator’s mind! Yes, I’m nothing but a tiny cog in the Underworld machine!

The reaper turned and walked away. Hui scurried after her, excited to be out of Zhu Diyu’s gaze.

As the two figures in white walked off, Zhu Diyu watched them go. He snorted quietly to himself.

A clerk approached him from the side. “Sir, we’ve finished preparing the documents for the next batch of souls.” She held up a massive stack of papers.

Zhu Diyu sighed heavily, looking the stack up and down. Somewhat reluctantly, he took them and thumped them on his desk. “Can’t someone else take this on?”

The clerk frowned at him. “Sir, no one would dare override the word of the Lord of the Underworld. There isn’t a single clerk who aspires to your position.”

“You should be more proactive,” Zhu Diyu replied, leafing through the papers absentmindedly. He waved his hand, and the massive stack whirled together into an equally massive scroll.

“More proactive… in usurping the throne?” the clerk asked, confused.

Zhu Diyu snorted. He waved his hand.

The clerk bowed. “Please forgive the slip of my tongue!” She turned and marched off, shoulders squared, to rejoin the cadre of clerks in the back of the office.

Zhu Diyu looked at the scroll again, then lifted his head and looked at the endless march of souls. He sighed deeply. “Next.”