The King of Hell, a towering man with a beard and an imposing presence, held his cheeks as he examined a file in his hand. His majestic appearance was accentuated by thick eyebrows and large, piercing eyes. Five officials surrounded him, their eyebrows resembling sharp knives, exuding a faint aura of majesty mingled with a hint of dominance that was undeniably compelling.

Clad in a black python robe with a purple-golden headpiece, the imposing man stood flanked by two figures—one black, one white—whose unnervingly long tongues reached down to their waists, creating a chilling sight.

Soon, two tall figures, one with a bull's head and the other with a horse's face, escorted a man in white past them. "Sinner Liu Mang, kneel down and behold Lord Yama!" bellowed Niu Tou. Liu Mang, a writer, had been engrossed in his work at his computer moments before, only to be overcome by a sudden pain in his heart and a deep weariness. Awakening in the eerie confines of Hell Palace, he trembled, his gaze darting fearfully at the ghastly ghosts brandishing chains on either side of him.

Collapsed on the ground in terror, Liu Mang stammered, "Am I truly dead? Why is this happening..."

"Do you comprehend the gravity of your sins?!" boomed the king.

"Eh? I do not steal, nor do I plunder or kill. How can I be sinful?" Liu Mang protested in bewilderment.

Lord Yan, opening a dossier, inquired, "Have you recently penned a scathing essay?"

"I believe so... But hasn't that episode concluded?" Liu Mang ventured timidly. A resounding slap echoed!

In a fit of rage, Lord Yama slammed the table, causing the trembling ghosts to quiver in fear. Rising from his seat and drawing near, he admonished, "For a year, this monarch anticipated some scandal or betrayal in your R-18 novel after discerning its initial provocative content. Instead, you concluded it with a mere romance. Do you grasp the anguish of shattered expectations?" Liu Mang's eyes widened in shock, "You mean, you are an NTR enthusiast?"

"Indeed! While innocence could be pardoned, your narrative remains lacking. You were destined to live until 90, yet your current dissatisfaction shall cost you two-thirds of that span!" Yan Wang pronounced sharply.

Desperate, Liu Mang implored, "This cannot be. I have not found a companion yet. Show mercy; at least grant me a marriage!"

"Kneel!" Niu Tou Ma Mian chastised Liu Mang with a searing iron rod, compelling him to kneel once more.

Lord Yan sneered and issued a menacing ultimatum to Liu Mang, "Very well, I shall return you to your world. Fail to alter the conclusion of the world within ten years in your manuscript, and this monarch shall decree your demise. You shall remain an eternal bachelor, forbidden from even touching a woman's hand!"

Outraged, Liu Mang declared, "I have never encountered such audacious, contemptible, and depraved conduct from Lord Yama!"

"Sever ties, leave it incomplete, and deceive readers—off to the eighteenth level of hell with them! Seize him! Seize him!" commanded Ye Wang loudly.

"Understood!" Niu Tou Ma Mian swiftly bound Liu Mang with iron chains, contorting his body.

"This is unjust! Unjust!" Liu Mang cried out in vain, ignored by the indifferent onlookers who observed him with malicious delight.

"A fitting end for an unfinished update in the crematorium!"

"Wisdom befits Your Majesty! Your Majesty! Down with the unscrupulous author!" three large characters read 'Naihe Bridge'. Sensing impending doom, Liu Mang appealed to the bull-headed horse beside him, "Brother Niu, Brother Ma... What are you doing?"

"Let us proceed!" They seized Liu Mang's chains and hurled him into the Santu River below the Naihe Bridge.

As Liu Mang screamed in terror, pleading for mercy, numerous spectral arms emerged from the river, dragging him into its depths.

"I cannot swim! I cannot... I have had my fill! I cannot drink anymore!" Liu Mang's voice faded as he vanished beneath the water's surface.

Niu Tou and Ma Mian exchanged triumphant glances, until an elderly woman approached with a bowl, "Did you forget something?" Niu Tou's expression soured, "Oh no! We forgot to give him Meng Po soup!" ... In Nalan City, at the end of June, the scorching sun mercilessly parched the earth, as though intent on draining every last drop of moisture from the city.