Chapter 108 – The Little Snow Ferret No Longer Ran Away (09)
In Bai chuansu’s plan, since the Mortal Dust Mirror had once allowed him to travel across dimensions and even break through world barriers, then perhaps it could also break through the barrier of the Netherworld Realm.
Unlike Xiao Bobao, the Mortal Dust Mirror was forged from the ancient Yaoxian Stone, a legendary material said to have fallen from the heavens at the dawn of time. It was incredibly rare, and as far as anyone knew, the Mortal Dust Mirror was the only piece of Yaoxian Stone ever discovered.
Its potential was enormous.
“I can try, but I can’t guarantee it will work—I’ve never been to the Netherworld Realm before.”
In response to Bai Chuansu’s request, the Mortal Dust Mirror didn’t dare to make any promises, but it was willing to give it a shot.
“That would be amazing—thank you!”
Bai Mo’s eyes stung with emotion. He could finally go home—after so long, he was finally going home.
However, entering the Netherworld Realm was no small matter. As the realm’s guardian, tasked with sealing away four great demonic beasts, it was impossible not to inform the Northern Emperor Immortal Lord.
And if the Northern Emperor Immortal Lord knew, that also meant Jianmu would find out.
The moment Jianmu heard about the plan, his first instinct was to object.
No one knew what the current state of the Netherworld Realm was. How could they recklessly charge in?
Even if the Mortal Dust Mirror could send Bai Mo inside, its teleportation was random. If Bai Mo ended up appearing right in front of one of the ancient demonic beasts, it would be like serving a fresh meal to creatures that had been starving for millennia.
“Little Ferret, be good. This is far too dangerous. There must be a safer way.”
Jianmu’s voice was gentle as he tried to soothe Bai Mo, while inwardly thinking of a way to change his mind.
“But this is the only way in right now! If we can contact the Elders, we can better prevent the mysterious figure from causing more harm.
He already got his hands on the Crimson Rainbow Grass—who knows what else he might use next to hurt more people?”
Bai Mo was deeply worried.
His memories of life in the Netherworld Realm had faded, but he could never forget the desperate pleas of the Elders before they sent him away.
Even now, he still remembered—
To ensure his escape, one of the Elders had even coughed up blood.
A sea of flowers, as fiery as flames, their mesmerizing scarlet hues capable of bewitching the mind. Crimson-black blood, screams, terror—each day, fallen citizens were dragged away to be burned…
These were Bai Mo’s deepest memories of the Netherworld Realm.
Every evening, the guards would report back—the people begged him to patrol the areas afflicted by the mutated Netherworld Cold Qi. Only the royal bloodline of the Netherworld could suppress this ominous chill.
His father, mother, uncles, aunts—each of them had bled themselves dry and fought to their last breath for the peace of their people.
Now, he was the last of their bloodline, the young lord of the Netherworld Realm.
Yet the Elders forbade him from stepping even a single foot outside the palace.
At the time, he had been too young to understand, but he could sense something was wrong.
Whenever he asked the Elders why he wasn’t allowed to patrol, they would only sigh in silence. After a long pause, they would ruffle his hair and say:
“Young Lord, you are still a child. When you grow up, you will understand.”
To contain the deadly cold, the Elders of the branch families took turns patrolling.
Each time they returned, their faces were deathly pale, their bodies withered like dried twigs.
When they held him, he could feel their bones pressing sharply beneath their skin, as if burning into his own flesh.
Until that day—
Two Elders collapsed, their lifeless eyes staring into the distance.
And after that—
He was sent away.
Before, there had been no way back—so he could only wait.
But now, there was a way.
The thought of himself enjoying a carefree life outside, while the Elders and the people suffered within, made his heart burn as if it were being scorched over flames.
“Brother Jianmu, please let me go—I beg you~”
The little snow ferret pleaded piteously, his red-rimmed eyes glistening with tears.
His helpless, sorrowful expression shattered Jianmu’s heart.
“Mo Mo…”
Jianmu’s fingertips brushed against the boy’s cheek.
Bai Mo had always been stubborn—once he set his mind on something, he wouldn’t rest until he achieved it.
“You really leave me no choice.”
Jianmu gently wiped away Bai Mo’s tears.
“Don’t cry—I’ll go with you.”
The little snow ferret instantly brightened, his sorrow turning to joy—
Then, his face fell again, his worry returning.
“Brother Jianmu is coming too?”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want his beloved to accompany him.
But as Jianmu had said, no one knew the current state of the Netherworld Realm.
Going in blindly was far too dangerous.
If it were just him, he wouldn’t be afraid—after all, he was simply going home.
No matter how perilous it was, he believed in himself.
His power came from the Netherworld Realm—it was his birthplace, his belonging.
He wasn’t afraid.
But Jianmu was different.
The Netherworld’s aura was chilling and bone-piercing—it was a place Jianmu could not endure.
Bai Mo insisted that he could go alone and asked Jianmu to wait for him outside, not wanting him to suffer alongside him.
However, Jianmu refused, stating that if Bai Mo wanted to go, he had to accompany him; otherwise, he would not allow him to go at all.
Bai Mo was worried about Jianmu, but Jianmu was just as concerned about him.
To Jianmu, anything related to Bai Mo was not a burden but a sweet responsibility. If it involved his little snow ferret, even the Heaven-reaching Divine Tree would willingly bear it.
Unable to convince Jianmu otherwise, and with Bai Tang and Bai Chuansu persuading him, Bai Mo ultimately accepted Jianmu’s condition, agreeing to enter the Netherworld Realm together.
Three days later, they were fully prepared.
Since Xiao Jingling now belonged to Bai Chuansu, only he and the Demon Lord Lou Shun could control him.
To conserve Bai Chuansu’s spiritual energy, the Northern Emperor Immortal Lord drew an array on the ground to assist them in passing through the barrier.
Xiao Bobao, worried for their safety, insisted on accompanying them, reasoning that if two people could be transported, adding a third would make little difference.
Moreover, with her presence, they could relay information in real-time, which could prove invaluable. Jianmu, seeing the logic in this, did not object.
Upon teleporting, a wave of intense dizziness struck them. Bai Mo’s stomach churned violently, and he collapsed onto the ground, retching from the overwhelming nausea.
Xiao Jingling’s teleportation felt worse than motion sickness. With the task completed, Xiao Jingling immediately withdrew from the Netherworld Realm, unwilling to leave Bai Chuansu’s side, especially with enemies still lurking around.
A pair of warm, gentle hands soothed Bai Mo’s back as spiritual energy flowed into his body, calming his agitation and significantly easing the side effects of dizziness.
Meanwhile, Xiao Bobao, upon entering the Netherworld Realm, activated her detection mode and began mapping the terrain. Getting lost in such an unfamiliar and dangerous place would be disastrous—they needed to know which direction to run in case of danger.
Suddenly, she detected a powerful presence rushing toward them and immediately warned Bai Mo to stay alert. He quickly retracted the ferret ears and tail that had involuntarily appeared due to his dizziness, choosing not to reveal his identity until he could determine whether the approaching figure was friend or foe.
Their landing spot was on the mountainside, surrounded by an eerie gray sky, neither sun nor clouds in sight, as if the entire place was veiled in mist, obscuring their vision. Though Jianmu and Bai Mo could sense someone approaching, they could not yet see who it was.
The approaching footsteps were steady and heavy, accompanied by rapid breathing, as if the person were utterly exhausted.
Just as Xiao Bobao heightened her vigilance, ready to engage an enemy, the source of the footsteps finally came into view—a frail old farmer carrying an impossibly heavy load of firewood.
His back was hunched low, as if the weight of hopeless days in the Netherworld Realm had crushed him over time. His wrinkled face was void of emotion, his eyes dull and lifeless as he dragged his weary body past the two of them without so much as a glance.
Bai Mo touched his nose, feeling slightly embarrassed for overreacting. He and Jianmu were rather lucky to have arrived in a relatively safe location.
Since Xiao Bobao was unable to complete the map immediately, Jianmu seized the rare opportunity to ask for directions. “Elder, please wait a moment.”
The old farmer ignored him, acting as though he were deaf. However, Bai Mo could tell that the man was physically sound—just mentally drained.
“Elder, we’d like to ask for directions to the royal city,” Jianmu said with his usual gentle smile, one that naturally put people at ease.
At last, the farmer glanced at them, and that single look was fortunate. He immediately noticed their attire, which was distinct from the locals’, and sensed the faint divine aura surrounding Jianmu—something imperceptible to the naked eye but detectable through spiritual perception, which he instinctively used.
That one glance left him shocked. His grip loosened, and the firewood slipped from his shoulders. His eyes flickered with both envy and wariness as he asked, “Who are you? How did you get here? Why are you asking about the royal city? This is not a place you should be. You’d be better off returning to wherever you came from.” His tone carried a warning, whether they had stumbled in by accident or entered with purpose, he had done his part in cautioning them. If anything happened to them, it would no longer be his concern.
With that, the old farmer hoisted the firewood onto his back once more. However, instead of continuing forward, he turned around and began descending the mountain.
His posture remained hunched, yet his pace was swift and effortless—completely different from when he had first arrived.
Bai Mo blinked. “…?” This old man was definitely hiding his true strength.
Jianmu gently held Bai Mo’s hand and said warmly, “We need to follow him. Once we’re down the mountain, we’ll find our way to the royal city.”
Bai Mo agreed without hesitation and quickly caught up with the old farmer.
As they reached the foot of the mountain, the thick mist dispersed, and their vision cleared instantly. A village lay before them, its atmosphere bleak. Most of the villagers bore the same lifeless expressions as the old farmer, showing little to no emotion. Even when some flickers of feeling surfaced, they vanished in an instant.
Jianmu realized that their presence as outsiders might cause trouble. After observing the villagers’ clothing, he altered his and Bai Mo’s garments to match their style. Additionally, he adjusted their exceptionally striking features to appear more ordinary—so unremarkable that they could blend into a crowd without drawing any attention.
When they walked openly into the village, the people barely spared them a glance. Their faces remained numb and devoid of expression. Even the children, who should have been lively and carefree, showed no signs of joy. They resembled emotionless machines.
Life here was unbearably harsh. With no sunlight, no escape, and no hope, the villagers lived in constant torment. Every few days, they had to endure the corrosive mist exuded by the four great fiends. Abandoned by the Six Realms, they were people without a future. Their survival was nothing more than a slow, painful existence—one that could end at any moment, whether tomorrow or the next second.
As Bai Mo and Jianmu walked through the village, witnessing the suffering of its people, a heavy weight pressed against Bai Mo’s chest. His heart ached, and his eyes burned with sorrow. These were his people, the ones he should have been protecting. They should have been living happy, peaceful lives. But because he had left, because he had failed in his duty to dispel the Netherworld’s cold aura and shield them from harm, they were now reduced to empty shells. This was his fault.
Suddenly, a child stumbled and fell right in front of him. Bai Mo instinctively reached out to help him up.
The boy stood, his eyes flickering with a brief spark of awareness—but just as quickly, the light dimmed. His lips moved as if to speak, but no words came. Without even dusting off his clothes, he simply turned and walked away.