He walked on the long central axis trail in the front hall of the Heavenly Palace. Every brick and stone under his feet was evident, and it was as clear as thin ice, reflecting his figure.

Dear. Dear. Dear. Dear.

Step by step, the sound of empty footsteps echoed lonely in the hall.

But Mo Ran was not lonely. He was not alone. He was standing in the middle of the trail in the front hall of the Rufengmen sacrifices that could not be seen at the end. The two sides were densely packed with people, men, women, old, young, faces with different expressions.

He stood in the middle, and it was like a small city. On his left hand, the corpse of the Rufengmen Sect, and the people who were sorry to Xu Shuanglin, all became lowly people, were cut off by Lingchi, and were executed by various criminal laws, and then resurrected, resurrection and death. On the other side, there were singing and dancing, and peace, free and free.

He even saw Luo Xianxian. It should not be his real soul, but his appearance made by other dead corpses with illusions. They were controlled by Heizi, just like the dragon people in Jin Chengchi.

Luo Xianxian tied her hair up and was now with her husband Chen Bohuan. The two looked comfortable and leisurely.

He also saw Chen Yuanwai's youngest daughter sitting beside his brother and sister-in-law, talking to them with a smile. Luo Xianxian snuggled up to Chen Bohuan. When she heard the interesting thing, she covered her mouth with her sleeves and bent her eyebrows and smiled brightly.

This scene is beautiful and dreamy, but it makes Mo Ran feel cold behind him.

He was walking in this long walkway, half hell and half heaven, and good and evil were clearly divided. On the left was laughter and joy, and on the right was pain.

He walked forward, as if he was walking through water and fire, light and shadow. He looked left, butterflies flew with flowers, and a stream of water flowed out from behind the beams and pillars. What was flowing was clear wine. Next to the wine river, some were reading books leisurely, some were reciting poems and essays, children laughed, and women were drunk and lying on cloud clothes.

He looked right, the cauldron was hot, and the oil was cooked with heat. The twisting bodies were poured with boiling oil, and the tongue was pulled through the heart. People cursed each other and bit each other, and the cold light of beasts flashed in their eyes.

He also saw the former abbot of Wubei Temple, the old monk who planned the dark side of the Lingshan Conference. He was surrounded by three people, each holding a rusty little stew knife in his hand, cutting his face, legs and brother-in-law respectively. One after another, the cut skin quickly recovered, so the cycle continued. The old monk kept screaming, but all he made was a roar of unknown significance - his tongue that spread rumors had long been torn off.

The more Mo Ran walked forward, the more chilled he felt.

He didn't even want to look at both sides, crying, laughing, angry, and happy.

A woman on the left was chanting softly: "Life and death, lonely and cold life. A lover cannot call out the lover..."

A woman on the right is being bitten by a vicious dog and screaming.

His aftermath of light saw the light, and the other half saw the darkness. These lights and darkness were so absolute, just like chess pieces on a chessboard, black and white, with good and evil clearly.

Mo Ran felt a split headache.

He stood in the middle, and he simply stopped and closed his eyes, not wanting to see the scenes of the Nine Heavens fusion with Purgatory again.

He was in the same place, waiting for the large army that was less fast than him to catch up.

"Fallen leaves are shocked by the dreams, and I walk leisurely on the rosy dust and call for the fallen red..."

"No! Don't treat me like this anymore! Please! Save me... Save me..."

But the sounds on both sides are endless like wisps, like arrows, and are full of thrusts.

He heard Luo Xianxian say to his husband gently: "Chen Lang, the orange flowers in the yard are in full bloom. I'll take you to see it, okay?"

He heard Qin, the former head of Jiangdongtang, laughing wildly: "Tong raping? Hahaha, yes, I am just adultering with Nangong Liu! I am just a slut, a prostitute, I am a □□, a poisonous woman - I killed my husband, I want to be the head - hahahaha, you all come and see my true face, look at me as an ugly bitch, ah hahahaha..."

Everything was gathered together.

Living people, dead people.

Reality or illusion?

Is it black or white, good or evil?

The sound around him gradually became like a tide, and the tide was rising and falling, as he seemed to see two giant dragons breaking through the water, and the moonlight shining on their cold and wet scales.

Are those two evil dragons?

No, those are your own two souls.

The fight began again, roaring and spitting out dragon breath and biting each other hard.

The earth shakes.

Mo Ran couldn't stand this crazy noise. He covered his ears, but still couldn't block the chaotic sounds twice. Finally, he couldn't stand it. He wanted to raise his hand to drop the curse of silence.

He opened his eyes suddenly.

All the surrounding scenes disappeared.

Mo Ran was horrified.

He stood there in a daze - what's wrong? Why did the surrounding scene disappear?

Where is he?

Why is there a lot of black everywhere, a boundless black...

Is it an illusion set by Xu Shuanglin?

Mo Ran looked around and found nothing, all dark.

He took a few steps and tentatively shouted: "Master?"

"Xue Meng?"

"Is anyone here?"

No one answered him, black, dead black.

Even though he had seen countless storms, such darkness was still terrifying. He walked forward, with goose bumps on his arms, and he walked forward...

Suddenly, he saw a faint white light lit up in a very far place in front of him, which seemed to be the exit.

He walked towards that place.

Suddenly, someone appeared around him, and his face was not so clear, but he heard the murmurs of those people and knelt down at him like a tide.

Those people were thrilling, their voices were low, and they rumbled into a river—

"I wish you a lifetime and auspicious Emperor."

The Emperor of Immortality?

No...no!

He was soaking, he trembled, he shivered, he ran forward with all his might, but it seemed that millions of hands were coming from all directions to grab him.

"His Majesty--"

"Treading to the Immortal Lord's Lake forever."

"The life span is endless, and the fortune is not strong."

Mo Ran was forced to a little crazy. He tried his best to break away from the invisible hands. He ran towards the light: "No, it's not me... go away... go away!"

"Treading to the Immortal Lord..."

But those sounds followed like shadows and could not be gone. Mo Ran began to think that Xu Shuanglin had the evil spirits and evil spirits in the ghost world. At this moment, they all came out to arrest him, the escaped ghost.

"Why did your Majesty leave?"

"Emperor, Emperor..."

Mo Ran staggered, and there was a blazing light in his eyes. He wanted to leave, but all the resentful spirits were trapping him. He was forced and trapped, and he had no way to hide. So he suddenly became furious. He turned his head angrily, suddenly drew his sword and swung it, slashing the phantoms into broken darkness.

His face was like a wolf or a leopard, almost ferocious.

"Get out!" he shouted, "Get out for me! Get out!"

As soon as he finished speaking, his face turned miserable.

He heard someone around him murmuring and laughing: "I?"

"He said I...yes...he was talking about me..."

"Emperor, what's wrong with us? You should also know who you are and where you came from, and you can't escape."

Mo Ran retreated with his sword and shook his head: "No, no...not that..."

The black smoke that he had broken was gathered again and formed, and a vague shadow fell in front of him and rushed towards him step by step.

The shadow said softly, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not the Immortal Lord!"

"How come you are not stepping on the Immortal Lord?" The voice was ethereal and soft, like the thin smoke rising from the tent of the gauze in the summer. "Of course you are, you have a head of injustice and debt, and only you, you can't escape..."

"But it's over!" Mo Ran stared at the black shadow, "It's over! The Immortal Lord has long died in front of the Tower of Heaven. It has nothing to do with me when he entered the tomb! I just... I just..."

The shadow chuckled gently, as delicate as the stamen: "What are you just?"

Mo Ran: "..."

"Are you just a return soul?" it asked, "Just just a body with a memory? Are you just an innocent life living under the shadow of the Immortal Lord? Or... are you just a dream?"

If you were still angry and fear just now, as soon as this sentence came out, Mo Ran's emotions became like ice, and the blood all over his body was frozen.

He was almost confused and didn't react. He stammered and wanted to speak, but he couldn't say a complete sentence for a long time. Later, he spoke, his voice was astringent, and he hollowed out his throat and only dug out a broken word: "...Dream?"

"You always feel that you have been reborn, but who can say it correctly? Do you think it must be real? Is it you or me who is the real thing at this moment?" The vague smoke surrounded him, and the more you gathered, it became clearer and clearer. "You said you died under the Tower of Heaven, but you are clearly standing here alive now... Are you really dead?"

Mo Ran stared at the ball of black smoke.

He stopped trembling, he felt cold, as if he had fallen into an ice cave, and stepped into the abyss with one foot.

Very cold.

Is he really dead?
To be continued...