Chapter 7: The Den

Gaudy. That's Yutao's first impression of the hovel he's been dragged to.

The three of them stand on the balcony, overlooking a grotesque spectacle: a giant fish monster, jaws unhinged and gaping toward the ceiling like some obscene prayer. It's the size of four rooms, maybe more. Its bulbous, fishy eyes bulge outward, glazed and stupid. Ropes and wires crisscross its bloated body, suspending it midair like a rotten puppet.

Above the creature's rancid mouth, a series of wooden planks jut out—like diving boards over a swimming pool, if swimming pools smelled like brine. Each board supports a ghost, translucent and quivering.

Noble spectators lined the surrounding ring-like balcony, split into teams, each watching with a predatory gleam in their eyes.

At the centre stage stood the host: a sensual demoness wrapped in a gown of black velvet that shimmered like oil. Curved white horns jutted from her sapphire hair. Her hair striking an uninvited chord in his memory, reminding him of the wretched blue lotus. She smiles, slow and deliberate, as she purrs the next question:

"How many tribulations does a prince face upon birth?"

A team rang their bell immediately. "Four!"

The demoness claps, delighted.

"That answer is... correct!"

Four? Yutao thinks, brow twitching. Renhu had to go through five.

Cheers erupt from the winning team. Some nobles groan; others mutter curses. The ghost on that team's plank releases a visible sigh of relief, shoulders sagging.

"Team Fenfang!" the demoness croons. "Will you strike, or play defence?"

A young noblewoman rises with theatrical flair. Pride glints in her eyes. A sly smile blooms into a wolfish grin as she points across the balcony to a brooding man with clenched fists.

"Attack! My team attacks Team Da!"

The demoness flashes a sly grin, teeth sharp as her tone.

"Attacking Team Da!" she sings. "Move their pawn forward—aaaand uh oh! Looks like Team Da will be the first to feed the hungry fish!"

A ghost—an old woman, thin and stooped—hunches further as she accidentally locks eyes with the skewered beast. The fish's massive, rolling eyeballs twitch, wet and awful. Her thin form quivering like a leaf as she is forced to jump into its vile mouth.

"Team Da is officially out of the game!" the demoness crows, drunk on the chaos.

"Fuck you! Fuck this!"

Team Da erupts. Furniture clatters as chairs are kicked, goblets thrown. Shen Da, the captain, lunges toward Team Fenfang in a blur of fury.

Lady Fenfang, ever composed, reclines deeper into her plush seat—an amused spectator to her own provocation. Her teammates rise in sync, intercepting Shen Da mid-leap. They pull him down in a flurry claws, shredding fabric, then flesh.

No one glances at the ghost, now a mere afterthought, disappearing into the bile-dark throat of the fish.

As the violence blooms, Ren Jiang leans in toward Yutao, voice low.

"Let's go."

Hao Enlai trails behind, silent and watchful. Meanwhile, Ren Jiang throws an arm around Yutao's shoulder, dragging him into the heart of Hōetsu—a den of corrupt pleasure.

Ren Jiang tells him his wife, Aika, runs the place. It rakes in money, loyalty, and, most importantly—information. Not to mention, Aika loves her job.

"Most of the time, that woman's just thinking about how to spritz this place up."

There's a glint of pride in his voice, twisted with amusement. "That little fish from before? All her."

Yutao lets out an easy chuckle, playing along as the drunken Ren Jiang leads him through the maze of depravity. From cannibalistic eatery to hardcore orgy parties. Then came a place where the nobles could do both, first rape the ghosts and then eat them.

Yutao's controlled reaction was a testament to his top-notch acting skills.

Those skills were further put under pressure when he declines the offer to join them. Just the right amount of excitement and regret.

Ren Jiang seems to not mind it, easily moving on to the next chamber. This one lacks the intensity of the others. Just friends lounging around, drunken laughter echoing, and clusters of partygoers tangled in sloppy make-outs. He nudges the other two toward the bar for another round.

As they wait for their drinks, Ren Jiang rises from his stool and drifts toward a chaotic knot of bodies. A man is deeply entwined with three women, locked in a drunken, unashamed grinding of limbs and lips.

Ren Jiang stands before them, unblinking. The man doesn't notice. His feverish groping continues, oblivious to the tall figure watching.

One of the women finally glances up and pales. She shifts, uncomfortable, and gently taps the man's shoulder, breaking their rhythm. The man's glassy eyes lift—first to Ren Jiang's face, then slowly, sluggishly, over his shoulder to lock with Yutao's.

"First brother! Lovely to see you here!" He Bolin slurs, grinning crookedly.

Ren Jiang responds with a drowsy smile. "Having fun?"

He Bolin tugs at his dishevelled shirt and grins sheepishly. "Always. You know me."

Ren Jiang chuckles, the sound low and dry. He Bolin visibly relaxes as Ren Jiang turns to go—until his voice cuts back in.

"What happened to your hand?"

He Bolin stiffens.

Ren Jiang's gaze lingers on the injured hand draped lazily over the blonde's bare shoulder. The left hand wrapped beneath thick white bandages. He Bolin's smile doesn't waver as he slowly brings the hand into view.

"Why aren't you healed yet?" Ren Jiang asks, brow furrowing. He can feel Hao Enlai's and Yutao's attention prickling from across the room, their focus narrowing in.

"Oh, this?"

He Bolin pouts. "Got nicked with a shiv. Bondage play. I would heal it, but I'm too drunk to remember how." 

Both brothers burst into laughter at his absurdity.

Ren Jiang shakes his head, still chuckling. "You're going to drink yourself to retardation, brother."

"Later then."

"Bye."

Drinks in hand, the three turn and leave. Yutao casts one last glance over his shoulder.

He Bolin is already back at it—tongue deep in someone else's throat, the bandaged hand creeping along another spine like it hadn't been questioned at all. I knew he wouldn't offer to heal it.

After a while, He Bolin can no longer sense their presence.

With a casual grunt, he shifts positions, flipping the woman off him and rolling on top of her instead. "Actually," he says mid yawn, "this prince is starting to feel a little drowsy."

He catches the stupefied expressions on their faces and gives the nearest one a lazy pat on the cheek. "I'm going to sleep. Miss me."

With a cheerful wave, he turns his back on the frozen women and strolls away, his footsteps echoing off the walls.

He Bolin moves leisurely away from this 'recreation' centre, and heads back to his hotel room. The moment he steps into his hotel room and shuts the door, his relaxed demeanour snaps. His movements become sharp, deliberate. He yanks a few clean robes from his interdimensional ring and tosses them into the closet. A quick flick of his fingers casts a scent-erasing spell over the garments.

Next, he cracks open multiple bottles of vodka and pours them down the toilet, scattering the now empty bottles haphazardly across the room. He tears the tight sheets loose, rumples them just enough, then flops onto the mattress briefly to imprint his body shape. A sloppy, believable mess.

Now that his alibi is set, he retrieves a transmigration stone out of his sleeve.

Time to get out of here.

The stone cracks between his fingers, making him disappear.

"There she is! My lovely wife!"

Ren Jiang pulls the demoness into a long, possessive kiss. When he finally breaks away, he smiles proudly. "The master of this house."

He gestures grandly. "Aika, meet our new friend—the infamous contestant, Yutao."

It was the first time the two had formally met. Yutao could say with grim certainty: this woman was one of the most dangerously seductive creatures he'd ever laid eyes on. Beautiful, like a serpent, coiled in silk, venom shimmering just beneath the surface.

Aika glides toward him, slow and deliberate. She loops one arm around his neck and pulls him down until their eyes meet—hers violet and glittering with something unspoken.

"You smell delicious, dear general" she purrs.

Yutao's spine stiffens. Her fingers, thin and cold, feel like spider legs on his skin.

Yutao slips out of her grasp and returns a thin smile.

"So," Aika saunters back to her husband, her hips swaying lazily. "How did you like this Hōetsu?"

She casts a glance at Yutao from beneath her lashes, chin dipped, lips curled into a suggestive smile. "Find anything to your liking?"

Ren Jiang throws his weight onto Aika's slender frame, forcing her to stumble slightly. She lets out a small grunt, but doesn't push him off immediately.

"This man," he says, jabbing a finger at Yutao, "takes joy in a good old-fashioned bloodbath."

"He'd love the gladiator shows at the Hōetsu south branch."

Yutao's eyes flicker, just briefly. "Hōetsu has branches?"

"We're worldwide, baby," Aika brags. Her smile turns predatory, showcasing all her teeth.

From the side, Hao Enlai coughs—loud, pointed—but the couple ignores him completely. Ren Jiang explains. "We own eleven branches of Hōetsu across the realm. Some attractions are standard… but others?" He winks. "Completely unique to their location."

Ren Jiang plants a tight kiss on Aika's cheek. "We came up with the concept about five centuries ago. Brilliant, right?"

Aika's smile flickers.

She pushes him off—not gently this time. Whatever mood was there, it's gone now. Her voice turns sharp.

"Out. Let me work."

Yutao says nothing, his expression unreadable. All the while, he carefully avoids reacting to Hao Enlai's sharp, watchful gaze drilling into him.

They walked in silence through the gilded halls. With each stride, Ren Jiang seemed to sober. A long line of guards stood at attention as they passed, bowing low the moment Ren Jiang came into view The grand doors to Ren Jiang's office swing open, then shut behind them with a solid thud, sealing them off from the world outside.

Ren Jiang settles into his leather chair and leans back. Yutao and Hao Enlai sit opposite, silent. The room is an anomaly—sleek, cold, and sterile, renovated to mirror a modern mortal-world office. Glass, steel, and sharp lines, giving Yutao the illusion that he is back in the mortal world.

Then, the prince straightens.

"Tell me, Yutao," he says, his voice low but direct. "Does Zhang Xiyu have the Blue Lotus?"

The warmth drains from the room. The relaxed smiles vanish. Suddenly, it felt like Yutao was prey—cornered, studied, judged. He couldn't turn away from Ren Jiang's green eyes, glowing faintly now, almost reptilian in their stillness.

Hao Enlai hadn't moved, but his presence closed in as well—silent pressure from the side, like a second set of jaws waiting to snap shut.

Yutao held the gaze, then let out an easy laugh.

"Come on, tone down the pressure, you two," he said, spreading his hands in mock surrender. "We're on the same boat now. Lying wouldn't do me any good."

His grin was effortless, his tone smooth. 

Slowly, the tension eases. Ren Jiang leans back again, some invisible weight lifting from the room —but his eyes remain sharp, unreadable. 

Yutao shifts forward, forearms resting lightly on his knees. His gaze flicks to Hao Enlai's, meeting it for a moment, before sliding back to Ren Jiang. "The Blue Lotus…" he starts, letting the words hang in the air.

Ren Jiang's jaw dips, his expression tightening in anticipation.

"Zhang Xiyu does have it."

The prince doesn't speak. Doesn't move. But Yutao sees it—the flicker in his eyes, the nearly imperceptible twitch at the corner of his mouth. Elation, tightly restrained He shares a glance with Hao Enlai, quick and quiet, like two men who've just hit the lottery and are struggling to keep it under wraps.

Ren Jiang opens his mouth to speak—only to be cut off as the door bursts open with a crash.

Aika stands at the entrance, absolutely fuming. She hadn't exhibited such rage since the time Zhang Xiyu stabbed her.

"What happened?" Ren Jiang stands up with worry evident on his face.

"What happened?!" Aika snarls, grabbing the marble bust from the showcase. Without hesitation, she hurls it at the other ornaments, shattering every delicate piece with a thunderous crash.

Ren Jiang was about to lash when Aika yells. "We are getting fucking raided!"

"What?" Hao Enlai blinks, stunned.

"The Censorates must have found out about Hōetsu. Jin Niu is cracking down—on everything. All of our branches!"

"What the fuck!"

This couple always seemed too confident in their little empire. Hōetsu wasn't just a side hustle—it was their lifeblood. Five centuries of seamless operations, and now everything was unravelling in a single night.

The prince's glare lands on Yutao for a moment—but then moves on. It couldn't be him. He hadn't left the room, and even if he had, exposing all eleven locations with incriminating documents would've been impossible in minutes. Hao Enlai wouldn't kill his cash cow either.

So who the hell was it?

There's no time to figure it out.

"They're bloody downstairs!" Aika screams. "What do I do?!"

A weird silence envelope them as they battle their nerves.

Hao Enlai steps forward, positioning himself between the couple. "The three of us need to flee. If we're seen here, it's over."

He throws a meaningful look at Aika. "The princess needs to stay."

"What?" Aika stares, stunned. Her gaze darts to Ren Jiang, who doesn't immediately object.

A slow, creeping dread claws its way up her throat.

"You want me to take the fall for this?" Her voice wavers, tears rising fast. "They'll skin me alive down there, Mr. Jiang! Why the hell should I—"

"Don't worry, baby." Ren Jiang interrupts softly, cupping her face. "I'll get you out. I promise."

She slaps his hand away, tears streaking down her cheeks. "So, you do agree with that bastard's plan!"

Ren Jiang's expression hardens. The warmth in his emerald eyes drains, leaving behind something cold and unreadable.

Aika instinctively backs away, but he grabs her by the waist, yanking her close. The tall figure towers over her as she shakes like a leaf against his body. With his other hand he lightly strokes down her dishevelled hair as if petting a dog. 

"This husband," he murmurs, "isn't abandoning you."

His voice dips lower. "All the documents and evidence... they point directly to you."

Leaning down, he whispers sinisterly in her ear. "After all, Hōetsu is your brain-child."

Ren Jiang chuckles darkly while she completely freezes between his arms. He kisses her forehead softly. She stands frozen, shattered inside, as the others move to leave.

"I'll find a way to save Hōetsu." he murmurs, brushing past her. "And then, I'll come back for my darling wife."

Without another word, he steps out the gate with the others.

"I've restricted transmigration in the administration area." Hao Enlai warns. "We need to get out of here first."

Guards tail them closely as they weave through the winding corridors. Eventually, they reach the concealed staff staircase. Without a word, they each pull out their transmigration stones. Hao Enlai and Ren Jiang disappear in flashes of light. Yutao follows, but not before catching sight of a suspicious guard lingering nearby—his gaze quickly flicking away.

And just like that, they flee. 

Wherever the eyes land, the expanse is blanketed in pure, blinding snow. This soft looking snow is carnivorous. It bites at the slightest presence of life—your beating pulse, your trembling breaths. The cold cracks it open, cruelly.

A line of naked humans stare at the board hanging at the entrance.

Cold Hell VI: Welcome to Utpala.

Their hands bound and their skin covered in countless blisters. They glance nervously at the demons escorting them, some of whom seem oddly... pleased.

One of them whispers, "This part is always so beautiful."

Another nods. "Hmm. There is quite an artistic flair."

A flicker of optimism stirs among a few of them. Maybe this won't be so bad.

Overlooking the arena stands Liu Xue, high on a platform.

The prince himself, a figure of glacial poise—he seems carved from ice. While on duty, he hosts a guest.

"How did it go?" he asks.

"The evidence is impressively faultless. Even the ministers in his faction are wisely keeping quiet." replies Zou Yaozu. "Hōetsu is one of the filthiest stains on our authority."

"Ah, but evidence isn't everything, is it?" Liu Xue's lips curl into a thin smile.

"He will curry favours." He adds mildly, with a sidelong glance at the minister. A thinly veiled pressure in his gaze. He waits for an answer. An answer he should like.

Zou Yaozu is certainly not dense. "Rest assured, your highness. Jin Niu and the council have grown a backbone lately."

"As our true Lord returns."

Liu Xue's expression grows distant. His focus lands on the new batch of humans brought to be tortured. Demons tend to favour Utpala. They await the torture as if waiting for a tree to bear fruit.

Soon the familiar screams of torment resound. Unlike the echoing agony within Zhang Xiyu's palace, the screams here are swallowed by the snow, muffling the impact.

The humans, their eyes wide as they witness the horrifying phenomenon growing from their wounds. From each blister, a vibrant petal emerges. Then another. And another. Their pain intensifies as the petals force their way through their injured flesh.

"Nila Utpal." Liu Xue says quietly.

The humans look uncannily beautiful, every raw crevice now blossoms into blue petals, creating a stark contrast to their tear-streaked, twisted faces.

"The Blue Lotus."

They collapse, limbs contorting, the blossoms on their bodies appearing to dance grotesquely with every spasm of agony.

"Do you like it?" Liu Xue's voice is featherlight, as if his words hold no other meaning.

Zou Yaozu's back stiffens, his mind racing to end this conversation. "It's pleasant." He grits out.

"Is it?" Liu Xue presses, smiling faintly.

Zou Yaozu wearily meets his cold eyes. Liu Xue smiles "This prince also finds it pleasing."

Zou exhales slowly, defeated. His shoulders droop. But his gaze turns sharp. "Your Highness." he says with resolve.

"This is a hopeless gambit. The lotus—it is not something one owns."

He holds firm under Liu Xue's chilling expression. "For your own sake, believe that lotus is a myth and—"

"Minister Zou. You talk too much." Liu Xue remains motionless, but inside, the storm rages. The dreams shown to him by a friend—the promise of something monumental. And now that scheming bastard sells the same ambition to that loathsome Ren Jiang. 

Zou Yaozu bows, "The court will ensure Hōetsu pays its dues. Until then."

Without waiting for a reply, Zou turns and walks away, leaving Liu Xue to simmer.

The screams die down, and what's left of the macabre is the usual blood. But Liu Xue still stands on this freezing ground. He doesn't have to look; his soldier has returned.

"Rise."

The soldier obeys, lifting himself from his knees, eyes lowered.

"My Lord," he begins, voice measured but strained, "your house has noticed a maid went missing shortly after that letter was discovered on your desk."

"We believe that the maid is linked to the anonymous informant. A taskforce is dispatched to hunt her down."

Liu Xue finally turns. Contempt bleeds into his expression.

"You wouldn't tell me this." he says flatly.

"If you could find her, you would have done so already. Not pacify me with these... reports."

The soldier tenses as the prince closes the distance, every instinct screaming that his life now balances on a thin thread. Liu Xue speaks for the soldier. "No. You can't find her. She may already be dead."

He lays a hand on the soldier's shoulder. What looks gentle feels like iron. "You will find me the man behind Hōetsu's downfall. Do not return... until you do."

"Alright, let's get started."

Renhu rubs his hands together and settles behind the desk. Three demons rise from their kneeling positions; heads still bowed in deference.

He laces his fingers, already growing impatient.

The demon on the far-left steps forward. "Sir. I've received intelligence from the third prince's palace. An anonymous letter was delivered directly to the prince. Immediately after, the house butler—who hasn't left the residence in over a century—was ordered to abandon his duties and travel to an undisclosed location."

Renhu raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

The demon continues, "When he returned, he was carrying several thick envelopes—documents, most likely. He guarded them like his life depended on it, and delivered them straight to the prince's study."

Renhu puts the pieces together, Those must be the documents meant to bring down Hōetsu.

It doesn't seem like something the prince already had. Where did he get them from?

The demon continues. "Additionally, a maid is nowhere to be found right after that anonymous letter was found on the prince's desk."

Renhu's mind clicks into place. So the information came from outside… Someone's helping Liu Xue take down his rival brother.

"Good work." He gives a curt nod. The demon steps back into line.

The middle one approaches and places a scroll on the desk. "Sir. This is a list of all guests present the night Lord Zhang and the Third Prince played the game. We've highlighted those who were close enough to be within the game's range and—"

"The ones with the highest cultivation levels." Renhu finishes for him.

"Exactly, sir."

He grins. "Finally. Yutao would've had my head if I hadn't made progress."

He gestures at the last demon, who's still frozen in place, fidgeting nervously. "You're up."

"Sir—I—" the demon stammers, then sighs.

Renhu narrows his eyes, a flicker of irritation in his voice. "The two of you, dismissed."

The first two demons bow and quickly leave, casting a last glance at their uneasy colleague. The door thuds shut behind them.

The anxious demon walks forward; each step hesitant. "Sir."

"Spit it out, already." Renhu threatens.

"My spy from Hōetsu… in the central branch sent word, that he- "

"He saw General Yutao… with the First Prince and Hao Enlai."

Renhu's impatience evaporates. "What?" he breathes out.

"He saw the three of them touring the premises." the demon mutters.

"Afterward, the prince took them into his private office. The room was heavily sealed under spells—my spy couldn't hear anything. Then the raid fell. Lord Ren left his wife behind as a scapegoat and helped General Yutao escape. I—"

CRACK.

The desk splits in two under Renhu's grip. The scroll unravels across the floor in silence. The demon flinches at the sound, sweat already dripping down his brow.

"I—I'll take my leave, sir." He bows and inches toward the door, hoping to escape the storm brewing behind him.

Renhu's hoarse voice cracks like dry thunder. "This information…"

"Don't worry, sir!" the demon drops to his knees, panic rising. "It won't leave this room! I swear it!". One misstep, and he will be reduced to dust.

But Renhu no longer hears him. Delving deeper into his thoughts. The one that pricks him the most – Yutao had a meeting with Ren Jiang weeks ago...

His throat feels dry, his palms feel sweaty.

Yutao has betrayed us. 

Renhu feels it for the first time: a sickness deep in his gut. Not just anger—grief. Yutao was family. He'd fought side-by-side with Zhang Xiyu, suffered for him, bled for him. How could he-

"I was abducted by the Blue Lotus."

The memory cracks like thunder. His temples throb as pain spikes behind his eyes.

"The Blue Lotus. She too wanted to use me. She saw the talent in me and imprisoned me with Zhang Xiyu."

"She informed me that returning means nothing. My reincarnation is a lost cause. The due period has lapsed by decades. If I return, I will have nothing left but more humiliation."

"She had me there."

Yutao recalls the memory with effort. All these words had never found place outside his memory. Speaking of them out loud makes them feel more real.

"Then I met him again but I couldn't recognise him. His body, his face. The look in his eyes. Everything felt unfamiliar. Not the weak scholar from my memory."

His eyes mist with an unknown emotion. "But the grit... the grit was still there. The steel in his voice. The will to survive."

"We were tortured. Trained. Mutilated under those sisters. All of them make my skin crawl."

"All for their own grand purposes."

Renhu gasps, clutching his head, eyes burning.

"Of course he can!" he snarls, voice raw.

He grits his teeth and slumps back into his seat. The scroll, half-unfurled on the floor, nudges his foot. His reddened eyes drift down to it. He lifelessly picks it up and unrolls it completely.

Focus.

He needs to focus—anything to pull himself out of his spiralling sanity. He scans the names, one by one, biting down on his finger until blood wells up. He uses it to mark the ones capable of cracking an array in the uncharted dimension. 

Five minutes pass. He exhales and leans back in his chair, gaze fixed on what remains.

Ren Jiang

Liu Xue

Jin Niu

Zou Yaozu

Yutao

His eyes pause at the last one.

Then they drift to the final name.

"And…" he murmurs.

"He Bolin."