Chapter 147: Punishment

A city that looked as real as any in the mortal world appeared before Chen Jianchen and Xi Fangping. It had city walls, a moat, and streams of bustling citizens going back and forth. It felt so authentic that it could easily have been mistaken for Jiangzhou in the real world. Only when they observed those entering and leaving—every single one with a dull, vacant expression and a drifting gait, as if they were mere empty husks—did they realize they had arrived in the territory of Jiangzhou governed by the Netherworld.

The Netherworld was undoubtedly a vast realm, divided into numerous provincial blocks and eighteen distinct prefectures just like the Tiantong Dynasty.

The Jiangzhou before their eyes was merely one of them.

Chen Jianchen felt a surge of curiosity. If the realms of the Netherworld were interconnected, he wondered, would there also be sedan chairs, horses, carriages, and other means of transport, just like in the mortal world, allowing one to travel from one prefecture to another?

Even as he pondered this, a rider galloped fiercely toward them from another direction. The horse was extremely bizarre: completely pitch-black as ink, yet seemingly translucent, devoid of solid muscle or bone. At first glance, it appeared to be a horse formed of pure vapor, but upon rubbing one's eyes and looking closer, it was unmistakably a steed.

The horse's mane and tail were uncommonly long, fluttering in a free and ethereal manner.

The knight mounted upon it was burly, wearing a wide-brimmed felt hat that obscured his face. However, the black official robe he wore bore the prominent Chinese character for "Runner" stamped upon it, indicating that he was undoubtedly a nether runner.

Clatter, clatter, clatter!

Riding the steed, the nether runner sped past the two men without stopping, galloping straight through the side gate into Jiangzhou.

A nether horse!

Only then did Chen Jianchen guess the identity of the beast; it must indeed be a nether steed.

As the name implied, a nether horse was a mount that traveled across the terrain of the Netherworld, though by what mysterious arts it was condensed remained a mystery.

"Let's go, let's enter the city." Inside, the scenery changed. Compared to the real Jiangzhou, the space here was much larger, but the buildings and dwellings were extremely sparse and deserted. There were only two streets, one vertical and one horizontal, intersecting to form a grand cross shape.

At the center of the intersection stood a massive temple. The main hall rose to six stories, resplendently built with flying eaves and upturned corners, and beneath every single eave hung an ancient bronze bell.

It was none other than the City God Temple.

Jingle, jingle, jingle!

Suddenly, all the bells upon the City God Temple rang out without any wind, emitting a sharp, piercing, and frantic alarm.

With the chiming of the bells, the human-shaped nether spirits in the surrounding area suddenly sprang to life, looking about in all directions as if searching for something.

Before long, countless dull eyes all converged upon a single spot—the place where Chen Jianchen and Xi Fangping stood.

They had been discovered...

Chen Jianchen knitted his brows, his right hand vigilantly gripping the hilt of his righteous soul-nurturing sword.

Boom, boom, boom!

Heavy and rhythmic footsteps sounded as a squad of ten nether runners came marching in an imposing formation. They all took human form, clad in dark soft armor and wearing felt hats, with equipment that was impeccably neat and uniform. In both spirit and imposing aura, they surpassed the nether runners of Brush-Rack Mountain by countless folds.

If the nether runners under Hou Qing's command were a mob of ragtags, then these were true regular soldiers.

The nether runners surrounded Chen Jianchen and Xi Fangping in a tight circle. The leader shouted, "Why have you two mortals broken into the Netherworld? How utterly devoid of sense and propriety!"

Having gone through the ordeal once before, Xi Fangping showed great improvement this time. He steadied himself and proclaimed in a ringing voice, "Respected nether runners, I am Xi Fangping, a scholar from Dong'an Village. I have come specifically to seek an audience with the City God Lord to file a grievance and seek redress!"

"File a grievance?"

The head runner let out a cold snort. "You scholar know nothing of protocol. If you wish to file a grievance, you should go to the local Earth Deity. How could the City God Lord be someone you can see so easily?"

Xi Fangping replied loftily, "Because the one I wish to accuse is none other than the Mountain God of Brush-Rack Mountain! How could a mere local Earth Deity possibly have the authority to decide this matter?"

Hearing this, the leader of the nether runners was startled. He sized Xi Fangping up, his expression turning cold. "What audacity! Is the Mountain God of Brush-Rack Mountain someone you can accuse? Do not engage in a reckless dispute of stubborn pride; hurry back home at once, lest disaster befall you shortly."

The veiled threat in his tone was unmistakably clear.

Chen Jianchen laughed aloud. "Absurd! If a mountain god commits wrongs and crimes, why can he not be accused? Could it be that the City God Lord is merely a decorative figure, unable to brook the words of mortals?"

At these words, all the nether runners flew into a rage, glaring daggers at Chen Jianchen as if they might swarm him at any moment.

Chen Jianchen met their gazes with unruffled calm and raised his voice. "What? Is what I said not the truth? Or perhaps you officials shield one another, casting the laws of the Netherworld aside to trample them at will? That so-called 'impartiality' of yours is nothing but a belly full of selfish motives!"

Seeing how sharp and articulate his words were, the runner leader demanded, "And who might you be?"

"Chen Jianchen of Jiangzhou!"

At the utterance of this name, the expressions of the nether runners shifted, and they cast unconcealed looks that clearly meant, "So you are the famous Chen Jianchen."

Chen Jianchen remained unfazed by their reaction, as though he had expected it all along. He continued, "Hurry and report this to the City God Lord. If he refuses to hear the case, we shall proceed directly to the City of Wronged Deaths and appeal our case straight to the judge for trial."

He even knew of the judge in the City of Wronged Deaths! The leader of the nether runners furrowed his brow, realizing they were not so easily brushed aside. "Hmph! Even should the City God Lord accept the lawsuit, according to the laws of the Netherworld, a plaintiff must endure three major punishments before ascending to the courtroom. I fear you will not survive the afflictions along the way. Better to turn back early and spare yourselves the suffering."

"Oh?"

Chen Jianchen's sword-like brows arched upward. "Could it be that you lot are twisting the laws and abusing corporal punishment?"

The runner leader leisurely produced a volume—verily the original code of the Netherworld laws—flipped it open, and handed it over. "The statutes are right here. You may verify their authenticity."

That legal codex of the Netherworld was a foot square and written not with mortal ink and brush; page by page, it felt as smooth as water to the touch. It was densely filled with tiny, fly-head-sized characters of a bright red hue, as if carved into the pages with a blade—neat and powerful, utterly impossible to forge or alter. Turning to the relevant page, sure enough, it clearly stated that mortals who failed to follow proper procedures and protocol in filing a grievance, thus overstepping boundaries, must sequentially undergo three punishments: thirty strokes of the whip, ten breaths upon the bed of fire, and twenty breaths suspended from the high wooden frame.

And the so-called proper procedure dictated that one must first go through the Earth Deity, then through the river god or mountain god, before finally submitting the legal dossier to the City God Temple.

Yet with these layers upon layers of bureaucracy, by the time a case climbed up all the way, any chance of justice would have long turned cold. Furthermore, with Hou Qing acting as a barrier in the middle, no matter how many petitions were submitted below, they would never reach the lofty ears of the City God.

An extra layer of officialdom meant an extra department, which was tantamount to a mountain standing in one's path.

This had always been an immutable truth.

The chief runner said triumphantly, "Well? Take my advice and return whence you came. Why put yourselves through this misery?"

Chen Jianchen turned his gaze toward Xi Fangping.

Xi Fangping's expression was resolute, his words carrying the weight of falling stone: "Torture or no torture, this concerns my father's tragic grievance. Even if I must take this lawsuit all the way to the King of Hell himself, I shall press charges!"

"A fine fellow!" Chen Jianchen clapped and praised. This was the true character of a scholar—possessing an iron backbone, fearing no oppressive power, shrinking from no hardship, and coveting no wealth.

The runner leader sneered, "Very well, follow me to receive your punishment. Only after the punishment can you see the City God Lord and submit your petition!"

They came to a small building on the left side of the City God Temple. Walking inside, they found it gloomy and chilling, lined with all manner of instruments of torture. As the plaintiff, Xi Fangping was the one who had to mount the platform and take the punishment.

The first trial of punishment was thirty lashes with the whip.

Xi Fangping lay flat upon the ground as a nether runner took up a leather whip. With fierce strokes, the lash came down mercilessly, snap after snap.

A whip blow struck the spirit soul as though it were flesh and bone, causing incomparable agony. Xi Fangping clenched his teeth and bore every single lash without a single one spared.

When it was over, the runner leader shouted, "Do you still wish to press charges?"

Xi Fangping cried out, "I most certainly do!"

"Very well, bring out the bed of fire!"

The punishment of the bed of fire employed an iron bed with glowing charcoal burning fiercely beneath it. The raging flames sent waves of heat rolling upward, baking the iron bed until it turned a terrifying, blazing red.

Xi Fangping drew a sharp breath. After a brief hesitation, he stepped forward and lay down upon it. Other nether runners immediately pinned his arms down, rolling his body back and forth across the scorching red iron bed.

The agony of the iron branding was beyond measure. Xi Fangping's flesh and bones were scorched black, and he could no longer hold back, letting out wild shrieks that made one's heart ache to listen.

Hearing this, Chen Jianchen was profoundly moved.

Ten breaths of time passed before the nether runners pulled Xi Fangping up. He looked utterly drained of spirit, seemingly unable even to stand steady.

The runner leader shouted once more, "Do you still wish to press charges?"

Xi Fangping's reply was feeble, yet as firm and unshakable as a mountain: "I do!"

"Hmph, string him up on the high wooden frame!"

The so-called hanging on the high wooden frame did not merely mean suspending a person; it involved pulling their limbs apart and binding them with ropes while nether runners below took saws to cut at their legs. The pain of this was simply beyond human endurance.

Once Xi Fangping was hoisted up, the runners immediately set to work, one on each side, sawing at his legs!

"Agh..."

Xi Fangping was in agonizing torment, wishing for death yet unable to attain it, crying out without pause.

Listening to this, Chen Jianchen clenched his fists so tightly that a surge of nameless fury welled up within him, tempting him to slaughter the ghosts then and there.

Yet a shred of reason in his heart told him on no account to act rashly. After all, he was facing the City God, not some ordinary local Earth deity. If he caused a massive uproar in the Jiangzhou Prefecture, there would be no room left for turning back, and the consequences would spin utterly out of control.

Down below, the runner leader shouted once more, "Do you still wish to press charges?"

With bloodshot eyes, Xi Fangping had been driven into a hysterical state by the boundless torment. His voice hoarse and cracked, he shouted frantically, "The grievance remains unredressed, my heart refuses to die, and I shall press charges!"

At that moment, even the nether runners could not help but change countenance. They had escorted countless mortals in their time, but had never witnessed anyone so resolute.

To Chen Jianchen, those fifteen breaths felt unprecedentedly protracted. When the time finally elapsed and the runners lowered Xi Fangping, he was covered in bloodstains and hovering on the brink of death.

Such rules of the Netherworld were truly cruel to the extreme, treating human lives as less than dirt!

The runner leader glanced down at Xi Fangping and said indifferently, "The punishment has been served. The City God Lord may now ascend to the hall to try the case!"