Ahead, a road seemed to stretch into infinity, its end lost in the distant horizon. It was a path that seemed to go on and on, a path that countless travelers trudged along, appearing from afar like ants crawling across a desolate landscape. None knew the destination of this road or what awaited at its final bend. Foolishly, they walked without purpose or direction, blindly following a path without knowing its end or the reason for their journey. And yet, they persevered, wandering aimlessly onward.

But now, at long last, someone had reached the end. A young man, his face stained with dust and exhaustion, sat beside a large stone on the roadside. He leaned heavily against the rock, panting, his steps no longer sure. Thousands of miles he had traversed, and his thirst and weariness were unbearable.

"Young man, hither, hither come," a voice called, soft yet somehow alluring. "You've walked a long and weary road, you must be parched. Come, have a cup of steaming tea to quench your thirst."

The young man looked up, wiping the sweat from his brow. His gaze fell upon a silver-white pot hovering midair, steam curling gracefully from its spout. To the pot's right stood a table, its mottled and weathered surface telling tales of ages past. Upon the table lay a cup, a spoon, and a jar - nothing else. And beside the table, a gray-haired old lady smiled warmly at him, her face kind and inviting.

"Are... are you addressing me?" the young man asked, a trace of nervousness in his voice.

"Of course I am addressing you," the old lady replied. "There's no other soul in sight."

The young man hesitated, but the temptation of the hot tea was too great to resist. He rose, his legs still unsteady, and made his way to the table. The old lady poured him a cup of steaming tea, and he drank it greedily, feeling the warmth spread through his limbs, easing his fatigue.

As he sipped the elixir, his thoughts couldn't help but wander to the enigmatic pot hovering gracefully in the air and the unexpected emergence of the old lady at the terminus of this seemingly never-ending path. What mysteries awaited him next? And why had fate chosen him to arrive at this mysterious destination? His mind was a maze of queries, yet for the moment, all he could do was cherish the moment and the reassuring presence of the old lady.

Unconsciously, the young man turned, only to behold a misty, lifeless landscape devoid of any other human traces. "This!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with bewilderment. "Old lady, where are the others? Why am I unable to behold them?"

The old lady arched an eyebrow, her voice calm yet enigmatic. "Others? Have you forgotten? You've been traversing this path alone all this time. Few dare traverse this path in company. Did you embark on this journey with another? Or have you perhaps taken a wrong turn?"

The young man froze, his mind gradually clearing as he conversed with the old lady. But suddenly, a chilling realization dawned upon him. He couldn't recall a single thing. The surroundings and the old lady before him were strangers to his memory. A cold bead of sweat slowly trickled down his forehead.

"Young man, hehe, are the memories slowly returning?" the old lady's voice echoed once again, but this time, it carried a chilling undertone. "Yes, you're right. You've never set foot here before, or rather, you've never been here in this lifetime. And once you've arrived, there's no going back."

The young man's heart skipped a beat. "What sorcery is this place? Why am I unable to return once I've arrived? Could it be... could it be that this is...?"

The old lady chortled, her eyes twinkling with merriment. "Hehe, foolish lad, turn about and behold. What do the inscriptions upon the vast boulder you've been leaning upon proclaim?"

A frigid shiver coursed through the youth as the breeze whipped, chilling his verdant shirt with clammy sweat. Gradually, he pivoted and beheld the monolithic rock he'd been reclining against. The jade-hued stone seemed to have sprung forth from the earth, towering proudly upon the charcoal-hued terrain. Its road-facing side was flat and sleek, exuding a phosphorescent radiance. Suddenly, three blood-red characters leapt from the stone's surface, screaming in his face as if mocking his ignorance. They were the words "Naihe Bridge"!

The young man shrieked, his already wan complexion paling with horror. Gazing into the neighboring darkness, he jabbed his thigh fiercely, grimacing in agony. But the ensuing shock swiftly overshadowed the discomfort. "Old lady," he stammered, "am I... deceased? Have I truly met my end?"

The old lady sighed softly as she regarded the youthful soul before her. Tugging a strand of silver hair behind her ear, she spoke slowly yet firmly, "Aye, lad, according to the ways of the mortal realm, you are indeed deceased. Do you not believe it? Hehe, recall what you were engaged in prior to stepping onto this path." Her face remained inscrutable as she fixed her gaze intently upon the soul.

After a protracted silence, the young man rose slowly and strode resolutely towards the table in front of the old lady. Drawing a deep breath, he pleaded, "Old lady, I do not wish to die! I do not desire to abide here. Please enlighten me on how to return!" His voice trembled and became hoarse towards the end.

The old lady's expression grew solemn and stern. "Lad, I have already informed you. Once you've arrived here, you cannot return. Never!"

"Oh, please!" he cried out, his voice cracking with desperation. "I don't want to die! I've still got so much undone. My family—my parents, my siblings—they're all waiting for me to return! They must be, they just must!" His features twisted with anguish, but no matter how vociferously he pleaded, the old lady remained stone-faced, her expression as flat as a lake without ripples.

After shouting his lungs out for what seemed like an age, he finally wore down and silence reigned. The sky darkened, its hues bleeding into a deep, velvety black. From the ground, a thin, wispy mist rose, creeping slowly across the land until it engulfed everything in its murky embrace. The world fell silent, a void of sound.

The old lady stood her ground, unwavering, as the water in the pot bubbled and steamed. Once a shining silver-white, the pot had transformed into a deep, inky black, blending seamlessly with the surrounding gloom. The young man, clad in tattered clothes that hung limply on his thin frame, sat beside the verdant stone, his gaze vacant as he stared into the abyss. The chill wind whipped through, causing his clothes to rustle and flutter.

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Time seemed to stand still, leaving only the oppressive darkness and the biting chill of the wind. Suddenly, a distant sound pierced the silence. The kindly old lady reached for the spoon resting on the table and began to stir the pot's boiling contents, a soft smile creeping across her lips.

The old lady's face broke into a smile, kinder than before. "Travelers, come hither and take a cup of steaming tea to warm your bones!" Her voice was like a melody, drawing the travelers magnetically to the tea table. With delicate fingers, she opened the jar, pinching a pinch of powder between her nails and depositing it into a cup. A flick of her left little finger sent a large, crystal-clear droplet leaping from the ink-black pot, gracefully arcing into the cup. Instantly, the cup filled with steaming vapor, and an irresistible aroma filled the air, sweet and seductive.

The Taoist priest, worn and haggard, caught sight of the cup and his eyes lit up like stars in the night sky. With trembling hands, he lunged forward, eager to grasp the offering. The old lady stood still, her smile serene as she held the cup out, allowing the priest to snatch it and gulp its contents in a single gulp. But he forgot that the water had been recently separated from the boiling pot, and the heat scalded his throat. His face twisted in pain, sweat beading on his brow, as he doubled over, clutching his stomach.

But then, an unexpected miracle occurred. The priest's figure began to grow ethereal, his entire body fading into the air. A chill wind blew, seemingly carrying him away. Panicked, he flailed his limbs, trying desperately to steady himself. But as he moved, a grayish gas emerged from the nearby darkness. It appeared slow, but in reality, it moved swiftly, wrapping around him in an instant and pulling him into the shadows. Suddenly, the bridge fell silent, and the old lady's smile became even more enigmatic, like a misty veil hiding the secrets of the universe.

For a moment, silence reigned supreme along the Naihe Bridge. The young man sat motionless on the jagged bluestone, gaze fixed on the path he had traveled, lost in thought. Meanwhile, the old lady continued her task unperturbed, boiling the water in the pot that bubbled steadily, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames.

Gradually, the path rang out with boisterous clamors, interrupted only by the occasional heated debate. The old lady's eyebrows twitched slightly, her face breaking into a pensive smile once more. Shortly, a motley crew emerged onto the trail, a diverse mix of young and old, men and women.

Leading the group was a woman dressed in red, her figure a fiery beacon in the distance. Yet, her temples were snow-white, and her face carried a pallid gray-blue hue, as if she carried the weight of ages upon her shoulders. By her side walked a burly man and a delicate woman. The man, with broad shoulders and prominent ears, tromped along with a thunderous gait, as if a miniature mountain were shifting beneath his feet. Upon his back rested a hulking axe, its blade half-ground and adorned with intricate seal script patterns, a testament to his might and skill.

The woman, frail and wan, leaned heavily on the man, her every step a precarious balance. Her mouth was stained with traces of a mysterious, bloodied fate, hinting at a dark secret that she carried within.

Next in line was an elderly man, tall and clad in a brocade robe. His gait was odd, taking half-steps forward with his left foot, followed hesitantly by his right. As his left leg hovered over his right, it seemed he would stumble, yet he abruptly halted in mid-stride, suspended in air for a moment, before resuming his awkward half-step forward.

Trailing the group was a seemingly youthful man, around the age of twenty. His features were sharp, eyebrows and eyes clear and intense. Yet, a shadow of sadness hovered over his countenance, like a dark cloud hanging over a sunny day. His complexion was ashen, and a crimson thread tied around his neck hinted at a deeper, unseen woe that he carried within.

As the group drew nearer, their features gradually sharpened into crisp outlines, eliciting a mild surprise from the old lady. She scanned their faces, noting the chilling murderous aura that hovered over them like a dark cloud, tainting the green with blackness and casting a crimson hue within the shadows. What could have possibly happened? They seemed to be a family, yet how could they all have met such violent ends? It was a time of peace in the mortal realm, and news of any natural disasters or wars was absent from her ears. The old lady's brow furrowed, yet her face remained a mask of impassivity; she had long ago grown numb to the affairs of life and death.

Meanwhile, the argument persisted, like a venomous snake slithering through the air. The woman dressed in red scowled and glared daggers at the elderly man in the brocade robe. "What else do you have to say? Look at the mess you and that whore of a woman have made of our son!" Her voice was sharp, like the edge of a blade.

The old man's face paled, and he snarled back, "She's not responsible! Have some decency with your words!" His voice was low and growling, like a bear rumbling in its den.

"Decency? You make it sound so easy! Why didn't you teach him to accumulate some merit when that brute came at us with a knife? And I doubt that slut of yours did anything to stop him! Humph, he sent you here with a knife as your punishment, but why drag us into this mess? Even Xiao Qi, who only came to deliver vegetables, got dragged into this mess!" The old woman's voice rose to a shrill pitch, her body trembling uncontrollably like a leaf in a storm.

The frail woman, watching silently, gently tugged at her mother's sleeve. "Mom, cough, cough, let it go. There's no point in arguing anymore. It's all over now, and we're all here together. We don't even know if we'll have another chance at life, cough, cough, so why get upset about this?" Her voice was soft and pleading, like a gentle breeze trying to soothe a raging fire.

The old woman's anger seemed to boil over, her curses spilling out like venomous snakes from beneath her breath. "And you, old man, you spent a few years as a lowly official and forgot your place. You even took a concubine behind my back. Humph, I never expected such deceit from you, even in your old age. But she seemed harmless, so I let it slide. Who knew you two would hatch another son! Less than half a year after he joined our family, we had another son! Cough, cough, cough!" Her coughing fits racked her body, the emotions too much to bear, and the frail woman quickly came to her side, wrapping her in a comforting embrace.

Meanwhile, the old man shuffled forward with his strange gait, his pace gradually slowing like a worn-out clock. He remained silent, ignoring the accusations, his face darkened by a shadow of regret or remorse.

The man stepped forward, his arm wrapped around his mother's shoulders. "Mom, please don't get upset. We're here now, let's just leave it to fate. Even if Dad had amassed countless silver coins in his lifetime, they're of no use to him now. We're not in the mortal world anymore, but at least we're still together as a family. If the Yama King judges us favorably, maybe we can stay together as a family!" His voice was gentle, like a balm to her agitated spirit.

"Leave it to fate?" The old woman snorted, her voice lowered with a trace of sadness. "If Heaven really had eyes, we wouldn't be here now, trapped between worlds. I'm afraid that if I don't speak now, I might never have another chance. After we cross over, I fear I'll never see you again." Her words were like knives, cutting deep into the silence.

The man, eyes filled with compassion, spoke tenderly to his mother. "Mom, fret not. Recall the words of Mr. Bai? He promised to await us. Let's simply bide our time, for I am certain he'll arrive soon." He eased her onto an ancient, weathered table, and they both took their seats.

The old man, however, stood resolutely, his breath ragged but his stance unyielding. With hands clasped behind his back, he gazed skyward, muttering to himself. The frail woman, her gaze flitting across the table, drew nearer to her husband and clasped his arm firmly. As her initial panic ebbed, she lifted her gaze and spied the old lady boiling water, a strange smile playing across her lips. Her heart fluttered once again.

"Travelers, does your throat thirst for sustenance? Perhaps a cup of tea to soothe your spirits?" The kind, yet gentle voice rang out through the air once more, like a balm to their frayed nerves.