Ying'er truly feels blessed—her husband always thinks of everything so thoroughly. She longs to be taken with him on their journey. Just as she's pondering and imagining, a voice suddenly comes from outside: "Lady! Lady! The king is here!" It's the Ghost King. No way—Ying'er is startled, while Gao Liang now appears exceptionally calm, with a confident and composed expression on his face. He immediately turns to Ying'er and says, "Quick! Go out through the other door! Remember, someone is waiting for you—just follow her!" "Husband! What about you?" Ying'er grows concerned for Gao Liang. Gao Liang replies, "I'll be fine. I'll hold off the Ghost King. Otherwise, as soon as he gives the order, all the exits will be sealed off, and then even with wings, we'll be unable to take flight!" Ying'er agrees. As she departs, she turns back with lingering affection and says, "Husband! Please take good care of yourself! I want you to return safely to me!" "Yes! Hurry! The Ghost King has arrived!" Seeing Ying'er go, Gao Liang feels at ease. Ying'er stepped out through the exit indicated by Gaoliang. Her husband truly had talent—the exit was so concealed that he had discovered it. It turned out to be a secret passage, originally used by the Ghost King for escape, connecting the Underworld to the Human World. When the Land Spirit saw Ying'er at the entrance, he immediately said, "The terrain here is quite complex, with many branching paths within the passage. I've lived in the earthly realm for many years and am very familiar with its layout! Hurry! This way! Keep up!" The Land Spirit played a crucial role at the very moment when he guided Ying'er out. "You're not coming over here, I'm not going to give you a second thought!" The Ghost King felt a surge of satisfaction—truly unexpected. This first-rank beauty from the Immortal Realm was so captivating that it made his chest itch constantly. Damn it, today he was going to have a good, lively time! Waaah! Waaah! With a sudden rush, the Ghost King launched himself at the high-lit figure standing by the bed. Who was High-Lit? The elder had cultivated various divine-level abilities, with a rich blend of complex energies flowing within him, possessing extraordinary divine powers. Moreover, his martial skills were exceptionally strong. With only a slight movement, High-Lit managed to deflect the Ghost King's charge completely. "Crash!" The Ghost King's forehead collided squarely with the bedpost, leaving a large bump that sent him writhing in pain, shouting loudly. Meanwhile, High-Lit remained beside him, her head covered by a embroidered handkerchief, dressed in her wedding attire, continuously waving her fingers toward the Ghost King, saying, "I'm right here! I'm right here! When you're ready, come and grab me!" Oh, for heaven's sake! Was Laozi drunk, having lost his way? He tried again—watching the young beauty, her presence so captivating it stirred his very essence. Though the Ghost King bore a large bump on his forehead, he could only endure the pain and, like a hungry tiger charging at a lamb, surged forward toward Gao Liang. Gao Liang lightly tapped the ground with his foot, and his body launched upward into the air. The Ghost King missed again. This time, with excessive force, he crashed headfirst into an adjacent stone wall, where iron thorns hung suspended. The thorns struck precisely, piercing his head and leaving it in a tangle of sharp wounds. "Ah! Ah! Mum!" cried out the Ghost King, writhing in excruciating pain. For the first time, he had ever experienced such agony. Throughout his life, he had only admired others' suffering, finding joy in their struggles and final moments of death. Now, he truly understood what it meant to suffer. The iron thorns are indeed tools that trap and harm others. Many female spirits, after ruining themselves in their own homes, are further tormented by the iron thorns, not because they are unattractive, but because this cruel spirit king has used the thorns to destroy them. Now, at last, they are truly tasting the bitter fruits of their own design. "Who are you?" the spirit king, in agony, urgently asked the woman before him, his voice trembling with panic. "Hah! Those who commit injustice will inevitably fall!" said Gao Liang, a statement that enraged the spirit king. Recognizing Gao Liang—whom he had himself imprisoned—immediately, the king roared, "Quick! Quick! Bring people! Bring people! Seize him! Seize him!" Soon, the buffalo-headed spirits, the pig-headed spirits, and the various minor spirits surged forward, each wielding weapons, forming a solid, barrel-like encirclement around Gao Liang. Gao Liang smiled with quiet disdain and said, "Come then! Come then! My friends!" Made a very funny move—Highlight, who usually doesn’t smoke much, suddenly lit a cigar right in front of everyone and took a deep, satisfying drag, puffing out clouds of smoke with genuine delight. The young spirits couldn’t help but chew their lips, as if they too wanted to light up. A cigarette before the battle—like a heavenly experience! Highlight felt absolutely energized. “Take them down! What are you all waiting for? Move! Take them down—and after that, you’ll be rewarded handsomely!” The Ghost King issued the command. The spirits immediately charged toward Highlight, wielding their weapons. But in Highlight’s eyes, their attacks were nothing but passing clouds. He remained calmly smoking, exhaled a steady breath, and said, “Too slow! Too slow!” Highlight couldn’t stand the feeling of watching slides—he preferred the dynamic energy of American blockbusters. These spirits’ movements were simply sluggish. He’d finish this cigarette first, then get serious. Thus, drawing his pipe with steady puffs, that carefree, joyful demeanor drove the Ghost King mad—damn it, with so many of us launching coordinated attacks, you not only show no fear but act as if nothing is happening; it's a profound insult to me! He immediately commanded all the major and minor ghost attendants to unleash their finest skills, launching a relentless assault on Gao Liang. Gao Liang skillfully dodged and weaved, sometimes leaping into the air, sometimes drifting back gracefully. With years of refined mastery in his evasive footwork—especially the Dragon-Form Step—he moved fluidly among the blades, and despite the frantic efforts of the ghosts, not a single hair of Gao Liang's was caught. The Ghost King then roared, "Quick! Quick! Release the阴qi! Drive him to death! Drive him to death!" Each attendant exhaled a steady stream of阴qi, forming a thick, misty veil that blurred Gao Liang's sense of direction—north, south, east, west—until suddenly, he felt an invisible, thick, turbid force closing in upon him. No way. The negative energy here is too heavy. Although the energy within Guangliang can absorb and transform the negative energy from the underworld into a form he can control and command, he can only manage the negative energy within his own body. He cannot control the negative energy coming from outside—especially from so many small spirits gathered here. As a result, Guangliang feels a sudden dizziness. "Hahahaha! Young man! This time, you're definitely dead!" The Ghost King, watching Guangliang's dazed expression, says with clear satisfaction.