Netherworld, by the Wangchuan River.
A noisy line of ghosts queued up, the dark Wangchuan River roiling nearby.
Meng Po diligently provided the passing shadows with a soup medicine that could make them forget their past affections, as a streak of blue shooting star crossed the gloomy sky.
The nearby Netherworld Envoys stopped in their tracks, bowing deeply with respect.
"Greetings, King Chujiang."
Only Meng Po didn't bow; she continued her work as normal.
Upon seeing the man holding a child before her, she finally spoke, "What brings King Chujiang to the Wangchuan River?"
Chu Yan's gaze fell upon the large pot of soup medicine, his cool eyes shadowed, the vivid red teardrop-shaped mole beside his eye seeming even more distinct.
The child in his arms came to the yin-rich Netherworld without showing any discomfort, even laughing and sucking on his fingers.
His beautiful phoenix eyes were carved from the same mold as his father's.
"Is this soup medicine drinkable for people?"
