Chapter Two: The Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak

When Yang Meng opened his eyes, the row houses were gone. He found himself standing in the midst of a grand garden, with a majestic palace towering before him. Above the gate hung a plaque inscribed with three words: "Palace of the Eastern Peak." Gazing into the distance, he realized that the vast green expanse was suspended in midair, surrounded on all sides by bottomless chasms, with no path leading away.

"How was this palace even built?" Yang Meng was utterly bewildered. Where was the man who had spoken to him just moments before?

He pinched his thigh hard, grimacing in pain. "Ow, ow, ow! Damn, this isn't a dream? Where the hell am I? Am I seeing ghosts while alive?"

Just as Yang Meng struggled to make sense of his situation, the man's voice echoed from behind him once again. "Hmm, your words 'seeing ghosts while alive' are rather apt. In your understanding, you are indeed in the underworld."

Yang Meng spun around to get a good look at the man. He appeared to be in his fifties, with a square face, a full beard, thick eyebrows, and piercing eyes—a figure radiating authority without needing to speak. Most striking of all was his attire: a flat-topped crown on his head, a ceremonial robe on his torso, a skirt-like garment below, with an apron girded around his waist, all predominantly crimson.

Thanks to those terrifying old TV dramas he'd watched as a child—especially "The Investiture of the Gods"—Yang Meng recognized the outfit at once: ceremonial garb from the Shang and Zhou dynasties. A red robe—reserved for emperors!

Yet rather than being startled, Yang Meng's face lit up with sudden understanding. "You're cosplaying? Oh, I get it! This is some prank show, right? Where are the cameras? You guys are amazing—how did you change the set so quickly? Are we in a studio?"

But the robed man was baffled by his words. "'Cosplaying?' What is that? Or do you mean some kind of punishment?"

Yang Meng gave him a thumbs-up. "Brother, your acting skills are top-notch—you deserve an Oscar! So, which station is this, and what show? Just don't tell me I'm dead. There's a huge flaw in your script, you know? If this is the underworld, why is there so much greenery?"

The anciently dressed man smiled faintly. "I can assure you with all certainty that this is indeed the underworld. In all the underworld, only here flourishes with spring. As for who I am, I am none other than the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak. Welcome to my residence—Palace of the Eastern Peak."

Yang Meng was stunned, then suddenly burst out laughing. "'I am the emperor'? Why not say you're a widow? You say you're the Great Emperor and I'm supposed to believe it? Prove it! Seriously, where's the camera? I don't like these pranks. I don't care which show you're running—send me back or I'll sue for unlawful detention!"

Before he could finish, the Great Emperor merely pointed a finger at him. Yang Meng didn't even have time to react before he shot up into the sky with a whoosh.

"I... I... damn!" For a moment, Yang Meng was at a loss for words. He could only mutter curses—there were no wires attached, nothing supporting him, yet he was simply floating in the air!

"Do you believe me now?" The Great Emperor smiled up at him from below.

Yang Meng was so terrified he squeezed his eyes shut and nodded vigorously. He'd always thought himself unafraid of heights, but clearly, that depended on the circumstances—floating unsupported in mid-air was a different matter entirely.

The Great Emperor maintained his smile, waved his fingers a few times, and Yang Meng descended gently back to the ground.

Climbing shakily to his feet, Yang Meng stared wide-eyed at the emperor. "So... you really are the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak?"

The emperor nodded. "Genuine in every respect."

Yang Meng was dumbfounded. This was no ordinary figure. The Great Emperor was the god of Mount Tai, the foremost of the Five Sacred Peaks. According to the ancient philosophies of yin and yang and the five elements, Mount Tai was the origin of all things; emperors throughout history had venerated its deity. Most crucially, the Great Emperor was the true ruler of the underworld.

He scratched his head. "Your Majesty, with all due respect, I'm just an ordinary person. Why bring me here?"

The emperor's reply was astonishing. "It wasn't I who brought you here, but your arrival is timely. At last, I've found someone to take my place."

Yang Meng nearly choked. "Uh... Your Majesty, I'm alive and well—I don't want to die. How about you wait until after I'm dead? Or find someone else?"

The emperor shook his head. "Now the worlds of mortals and immortals are separated. Even the Black and White Impermanence cannot enter the mortal realm. But as the ancient saying goes: 'Of the fifty paths, heaven bestows forty-nine, and man escapes the one.' I don't know how you've come here, but it must be a fate of cosmic proportions."

Yang Meng blinked, then plastered on a smile as he sidled up to the emperor. "Your Majesty, are you saying... I'm the child of some immortal? But my parents are alive and well. Oh, I get it—maybe my ancestors were gods? Care to share a hint? Does this mean I'll be able to do as I please in the celestial realm?"

The emperor, at Yang Meng's shamelessness, was momentarily speechless. "Young man, you're overthinking it. Each Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak must find his own successor."

"Successor? You mean the position gets replaced? Even gods die? How does the office of Great Emperor get passed on?"

The emperor nodded. "After Pangu created the world, his head became the Eastern Peak and the first Great Emperor. But Pangu could not oversee the mortal world forever, so the position was established to govern life and death and command the underworld. Since then, deities like Taihao, the Golden Rainbow Lord, the Supreme Pure One, Prince Shantu, and the Heavenly Emperor's grandson have all held the office. I've guarded this post for over three thousand years. Now, finally, someone can take it over."

Yang Meng blinked. "Such a high office, but you make it sound like a burden."

The emperor grew solemn. "In cultivation, there is no standing still—one must advance or fall behind. The office of Great Emperor is indeed grand, but it limits our further progress. Only by relinquishing it can we reach even greater heights. Yet the position cannot be left vacant, or chaos would descend upon all realms. So I must find my successor before I can move on."

Yang Meng was utterly confused. What did any of this mean? The more he listened, the more the title of Great Emperor sounded like a trap.

He hesitated. "But Your Majesty, all those previous holders were mighty immortals. How could a mere mortal like me possibly succeed you?"

At this, the emperor's face darkened. After a long silence, he merely said, "The will of heaven cannot be revealed."

"The will of heaven cannot be revealed—seriously?" Something was definitely off here. Yang Meng became wary.

"Can I refuse this so-called fate? Just send me back. I'm just an ordinary guy with simple dreams—a good life for my parents, a warm home with a wife and kids, and that's enough for me." Yang Meng genuinely did not want to linger in this place or become the so-called Great Emperor—life was tough, but he wasn't done living it.

The emperor shook his head without hesitation. "Impossible."

Yang Meng tried to protest further, but the emperor cut him off. "Enough. There's no time to waste. You must accept the mantle of Great Emperor now."

"What? Just like that? What if I refuse?" Yang Meng retorted. After so many years in the city, he'd learned at least one thing: nothing comes for free. There was a guy from his village who believed in free handouts and ended up losing everything to a pyramid scheme—the entire family nearly hanged themselves in despair.

Good fortune dropped in your lap is never truly good fortune.

The emperor's smile turned cold. "Refuse? Don't forget, I am the Great Emperor of the Eastern Peak—ruler of the underworld. I could simply ask Cui Jue to make a few strokes on the Book of Life and Death, and your loved ones would be reunited with you here, ahead of schedule. How would you like that?"

Yang Meng's eyes widened in horror. Curiosity really killed the cat—he'd come to answer an invitation, and now this was his reward? Was he about to die here? He hadn't even had the chance to care for his parents!

But it was clear he had no choice. To refuse would be to doom his family and friends. After a moment's thought, he surrendered—he'd just have to wait until his parents passed naturally to fulfill his filial duty. After all, how can you honor your parents once they're dead?

What a mess.

But now, there was no other option.

He hurried to ask, "Your Majesty, may I ask—if I become the Great Emperor, what benefits are there?"

The emperor was taken aback, then burst out laughing. "You're an interesting one—no work without reward, eh? Who is the Great Emperor? The very ruler of the underworld! The benefits are beyond imagination. Apart from the secret cultivation methods passed down from Pangu himself, you would theoretically command all the ghostly marshals, kings, and millions of ghost soldiers of the underworld! That is a power to shake the three realms! If the underworld were weak, why would Heaven send the Celestial Master Zhong Kui and the Buddhist realm send Kṣitigarbha to help oversee it? Boy, fate has showered you with good fortune—just count your blessings!"

Yang Meng snorted. Why did he find the words "heaven-sent good fortune" so hard to swallow? Was this "good fortune" just an early death and reincarnation? Who could he complain to?

But there was no alternative; his family's safety was in the emperor's hands. With a sigh, he said, "Fine, I accept."

The emperor smiled broadly. "This is your choice—I didn't force you, did I?"

Yang Meng nearly swore. If this wasn't coercion, what was? But, resigned, he muttered, "Yes, it's my own choice."

The emperor beamed, and a pillar of white light descended, enveloping Yang Meng. The light was so intense he couldn't keep his eyes open, and torrents of information flooded his mind—the legacy of all the emperors before him. He had no idea how long it took to absorb it all. When he opened his eyes again, the Great Emperor was gone.

Yang Meng was in a foul mood. The first thing he did on opening his eyes was flip the bird and curse aloud, "Damn it, you're nothing but a swindler!"