The wind of Hell was as desolate as ever.

In truth, even if the warm wind of Yangzhou were brought here, it would instantly be assimilated by the environment of Hell.

The highest mountain in Hell is Mount Tai, once the supreme symbol of power during the Lord of Fengdu era.

Of course, it is still so now, because the Bodhisattva built his temple there.

The second highest mountain in Hell is Yin Mountain.

There is also a Yin Mountain in the Yang world, as well as one in Hell, except that the Yin Mountain in Hell is located in the middle and rear sections of the Yellow Springs Road. Standing on the mountain, one can overlook the Yellow Springs Road opening from the west below, and see the densely packed souls walking shoulder to shoulder towards Naihe Bridge.

It's like standing on the bank of the Yangtze River and watching the great river flow eastward, a similar feeling.

Actually, in the beginning, Yin Mountain was higher than Mount Tai.

The first Lord of Fengdu quelled the turbulent era, established the Lord of Fengdu system to rule Hell, and established Mount Tai as the main court.

That day was long, long ago.

On that day, the first Lord of Fengdu ascended to his position on Mount Tai, inaugurated the Lord of Fengdu era, and performed the Feng Chan ceremony on Mount Tai.

At the same time,

Also on that day,

A monkey, jet black all over with only its eyes filled with purple light, came to Yin Mountain. With one punch, it shaved off the top of Yin Mountain, directly reducing the highest mountain in Hell to the second highest.

Time flies,

The first Lord of Fengdu has long since become a thing of the past, and even the Violet-Gold Divine Monkey has, under the gaze of King Qin Guang, entered its final end.

But the area of Yin Mountain that was flattened that year was covered with a palace, a palace without an owner.

Rumor has it that when the Ten Kings of Hell established the Underworld, they originally planned to build a hall on Yin Mountain to serve as a dharma field for the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva.

Then, they would imitate the actions of that monkey from the first Lord of Fengdu era, shaving off two heads from Mount Tai, and turning Yin Mountain back into the highest peak in Hell.

Perhaps, this is the game of power.

Today, you shave off a piece;

Tomorrow, he cuts off another layer.

The Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva refused and personally built a small temple on Mount Tai to live in.

And this palace, naturally, no one else would dare to live in it. However, usually, some ghost cultivators or officials with status would come here to rest, somewhat treating it as a temporary resort villa.

Perhaps it was because when it was first built, great care was taken to transplant many of the colored plants rare in Hell, making it a rare "riot of colors" in Hell.

At this time,

In a pavilion on the northwest side of the palace,

Two judges with yellow belts tied around their waists were sitting there drinking wine,

In the woods outside the pavilion, three dancers were dancing gracefully.

The entertainment life in Hell is indeed not rich. It's not that the people here don't understand how to enjoy themselves, but because they have experienced the colorful world of the Yang world, and many things are really like passing clouds. When you are old, when you have experienced a lot, or when you have been a ghost for many years after you die, you don't care anymore.

A pot of wine, a plate of side dishes.

The two judges enjoyed themselves.

The hierarchy of the Underworld, from bottom to top, is: trainee ghost soldier, ghost soldier, constable, inspector, judge, and King of Hell.

Compared with the officialdom system of the Yang world, the Ksitigarbha is equivalent to the supreme master. Although there is a curtain in place, everyone knows who is the real core and decision-maker of the Underworld today.

Diting is a bit like the Grand Eunuch of the Directorate of Ceremonial, responsible for hearing all movements.

The Enforcement Team is similar to the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

The Ten Kings of Hell are ten feudal lords guarding various aspects of Hell. Judges are formal officials, with seven-colored belts corresponding to ranks from seventh to first.

Inspectors are equivalent to county lieutenants, that is, the chief of the public security bureau of the county or city, followed by constables and ghost soldiers.

Trainee ghost soldiers are similar to contract workers in the Yang world today, and also like the militiamen without formal establishment in the past.

An Buqi was once known as the Gold Medal Inspector, and was considered one of the most prominent inspectors, which seems insignificant.

But you must know that the Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva doesn't leave the temple, and the Ten Kings of Hell basically don't show their faces. Although there are many judges, they are still considered pitifully "few" in the entire Hell. Being the top person among inspectors is really not bad.

It's a bit like the chief of the public security bureau of the strongest city in the country. This position and future prospects are obvious.

These two yellow-belted judges have entered the level of being ranked officials, but to be honest, they are in a very awkward position. People below see you as being glorious, but those above don't take you seriously at all.

Both of them were *jinshi* (successful candidates in the highest imperial examinations) during the late Qing Dynasty.

One was unlucky and died of illness on the road when he was assigned to a position outside the capital.

One was an editor in the Hanlin Academy. Originally, he had a prestigious background, because the Hanlin Academy was a good place to accumulate experience. But after editing books for a few years, he also died of illness.

The similarity of their fates allowed the two to become friends in Hell. When they had nothing to do, they always liked to make appointments to drink and chat here.

The two of them wasted or missed opportunities to achieve anything in the officialdom of the Yang world. In the Underworld, it was actually similar. In terms of actual power, they might not even be able to compare with those red-belted officials in key departments.

Their state at work is often: a cup of tea, a bag of tobacco, and reading a report for a day.

On the contrary, when they get together, reciting poetry and writing antithetical couplets is more in line with their pursuit of spiritual life.

In the past few decades, the poems written by the two of them have been too many, but just like Emperor Qianlong, they wished they could write one every day. However, there is not one that can be passed down as a classic... not one.

But the two of them continued to enjoy it.

The wine went down,

Clearly not intoxicating,

But they had to pretend that they were already slightly drunk,

Raising their heads,

Squinting their eyes,

Looking at the blood moon in the sky.

"This moon in Hell is not as beautiful as the moon in the Yang world. For thousands of years, it's been the same mold.

It won't become curved, it won't become crescent, it won't become dim, and it won't become full."

"You're wrong about that. It's obviously smaller, not as big as before, and not as bright as before."

A year and a half ago,

A person came to Hell,

And called the blood moon down from the sky,

And smashed it towards the city of King Song.

The two judges looked at each other and laughed together.

Because now, when they meet some colleagues from the city of King Song, they still grit their teeth whenever they look up at the blood moon hanging above.

Of course,

While hating,

There is also an indescribable fear mixed in,

After all,

In this world, there are countless people who admire the moon, but really few people are qualified to be smashed by the moon.

The two laughed enough,

And took out their pens, ink, paper, and inkstones, ready to write poetry.

As for what kind of poetry to write, it didn't matter. Over the years, no matter what the topic was, they had already written it. Now it was just a matter of impromptu play.

However,

Just at this moment,

One of them picked up a brush and suddenly pointed to the small path on the mountainside,

Saying:

"Hey, there's still someone standing there admiring the moon."

His companion also looked in the direction he was pointing,

Yin Mountain is very high, but they are sharp-eared and keen-eyed. As judges, even if they are not powerful, they still have the most basic skills.

Even from a long distance,

They could see clearly,

On the small path,

A man wearing popular clothes from the Yang world was standing there,

Raising his head to look at the bright moon.

"He's looking at it quite seriously."

"Yes, he's very fascinated."

Because this palace on Yin Mountain has no clear owner, naturally no one comes here to guard it.

But because it is close to the Yellow Springs Road, and it is the tail end of the Yellow Springs Road, there is a sentry post here, with thousands of ghost soldiers and hundreds of constables.

While supervising the Yellow Springs Road, they also take care of the joint defense at the foot of Yin Mountain.

Ordinary ghosts and monsters naturally cannot enter here. At the very least, they must be judges, or inspectors who want to come in to get to know some big shots and have some face themselves can enter.

"He looks a bit unfamiliar."

"Indeed, I've never seen him before."

Hell is very big. The main city of the Underworld is one, but there are ten ones below. Although now, there are only nine left.

You must know that because everyone has different personalities, sometimes the judges under a King of Hell may not even know each other, let alone the judges under other Kings of Hell.

Therefore,

Not knowing him

Is normal.

"He's been watching for a long time."

"It's been a while, I've already ground the ink."

The two no longer paid attention to that person and began to write poetry.

After the poems were written,

They exchanged them and appreciated each other,

The two cooperated tacitly, and could each hit the other's ticklish spots,

After a round of mutual flattery,

They were both very happy.

Then,

One of the judges looked at the mountainside again.

"Look, he's still standing there."

"Indeed, still admiring the moon."

"He's addicted to watching it."

"Yes, I don't know what's so good about the moon in Hell. It's better to find a chance to return to the Yang world to see the moon in the Yang world."

"Hey!!!!!!!!!!"

One of the judges shouted loudly.

"What are you shouting at him for?"

"Just shouting, look, he's looking at us, hey!!!!!!!!!!"

"Hehe, should we ask him to come up for a drink?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking, you shout."

"Hey!!!!!! You can look at the moon all you want, but the moon won't come down. Why don't you come up and have a drink with us..."

The shouting stopped abruptly,

In the dumbfounded gazes of the two yellow-belted judges,

The blood moon in the sky suddenly trembled,

Then with a bit of urgency,

With a bit of expectation,

With a bit of coyness,

With a bit of reluctance,

With a bit of impatience,

No matter what it was carrying,

It always honestly began to fall downwards!

At this moment,

The four directions of Hell shook,

Because there are always people who inadvertently look up,

Gazing at the sky.

Then they blinked, feeling that something was missing,

Then they belatedly realized,

The moon was gone!

"Dong dong dong dong dong!!!!!!!!!!"

The city of King Song, which had just completed half of its restoration project, rang the alarm bell representing an emergency,

An old judge with only the upper half of his remnant soul was holding a gong and drum, standing on the city wall, shouting hoarsely while beating the drum:

"It's over, the moon is coming down again!"

At this moment,

A person,

A round moon,

Were heading west all the way.