The year Zhenshi turned ten, she said she wanted to see Hell.
"Why?" Wanquan asked.
Zhenshi thought for a moment. "I've seen enough of Heaven. I've seen the mortal realm too. Only Hell is left."
Wanquan said nothing, looking toward Qianhui.
Qianhui nodded. "We'll go with her."
---
That night, the three of them lay in bed, their bodies side by side.
Their souls projected, drifting toward the Gate of Hell.
Before the gate stood a group of toads, their eyes glowing.
"Newcomers?" an old toad spoke.
"My daughter," Wanquan said.
The toads parted, making way.
Beyond the gate was a gray sky, gray earth, gray wind.
Zhenshi walked forward.
The wind wasn't cold—it was suffocating. The kind that seeps into your bones.
She heard many voices—low, like people crying, but afraid to cry out loud.
She walked on, her steps slowing.
Qianhui watched her from behind.
Zhenshi crouched down, her shoulders beginning to tremble.
Qianhui went to her and pulled her into her arms.
Zhenshi looked up, her eyes red. "Mom... do the people here never smile anymore?"
Qianhui didn't answer.
Zhenshi cried, very softly.
Wanquan reached out and gently placed his hand on her head.
---
They returned to Heaven.
Their bodies were still in bed, warm.
Zhenshi sat up and realized her old body was gone.
"Where is my body?"
Qianhui said softly, "A new divine body needs materials. Two identical ones."
Zhenshi looked down at her hands.
She remembered those people in Hell who couldn't smile.
She didn't ask again. She just gently touched her own hands.
---
Late that night, Wanquan stood beneath the World Tree.
Jinqiao walked over and sat down beside him.
"Is she alright?"
Wanquan didn't answer.
After a moment, he said quietly:
"It's the first time she's seen that the world isn't only bright."