Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 42: A Request for Confessions

Recalling what had just happened, the ghost immortal A’Shou was furious.

She had been carefully inspecting a seal in her room when the paper figure Dian’er suddenly rushed in wailing like a ghost, shouting that the Mid-Autumn E had been broken.

A’Shou was stunned.

The Mid-Autumn E and the “half-step ghost immortal” Li Shuo were interlinked, bound by cause and effect. They were strangely compatible. If Li Shuo consumed enough living souls to build his strength, he could easily ascend to ghost immortal.

To destroy the Mid-Autumn E, the sacrifices would have to survive days of carnage, see through the real form of the “Mid-Autumn E”, discover Li Shuo behind the scenes early on, and then deal with him somehow.

In previous rituals, the offerings never got close to figuring out the real nature of the Mid-Autumn E, much less discovering Li Shuo.

And now Li Shuo was just a step away from becoming an immortal. A’Shou thought surely no one could break the Mid-Autumn E at this point. She was already poised to welcome a newly born ghost immortal at the end of this ritual.

…Yet Dian’er was now claiming that the Mid-Autumn E had been destroyed?

No, no, no—something else was more important.

Beneath her bridal veil, A’Shou’s brows knit. “Since the ‘E’ is broken, you should go meet the sacrifices. What are you sniveling to me for?”

Dian’er, kneeling on the ground, opened its mouth several times but couldn’t get the words out. Finally, in a small voice, he said, “Li… Li Shuo wanted to give it all up on his own, so I used the Underworld’s detection spell to provoke him a bit…”

“…You did what?!” A’Shou shot to her feet.

She was already tall to begin with. Adding her thick-soled wedding shoes, she stood at least 1.84 meters tall. She halted in front of the paper figure, leaning forward slightly, her blood-red veil swaying ominously.

The paper figure didn’t dare lift its head. “Li Shuo must have been confused, or else what ghost wouldn’t want to become an immortal… Once he came to his senses, he’d surely be grateful to us. My Lady, he just needed this final ritual… My Lady…”

A’Shou let out a furious laugh. “There are countless battles where the underdog emerges victorious. Have you ever seen a general throwing a tantrum, refusing to accept a fair defeat?”

“All things follow their destined course. If you lose, you lose. Forcibly meddling in karma goes against the Heavenly Way. Even if Li Shuo had ascended, he’d be a crippled ‘fake immortal’ from the start!”

Seeing the ghost immortal enraged, the paper figure shook from head to toe. “I-I-I failed anyway. The spell got broken… Please spare me, my lady. I was just confused for a moment…”

Dian’er’s spell was broken?

A’Shou paused.

Though Dian’er was rather useless, the ghost officers in the Tower had at least been carefully vetted. They weren’t so easy to handle.

After thinking a moment, she said, “Go to the ‘Temple of Ten Thousand E’s’ and reflect. Come to me tomorrow to receive your punishment. As for the Mid-Autumn E’s sacrifices, I’ll fetch them myself.”

With that, she stepped right over the paper figure, flattening Dian’er into a thin sheet. The paper figure didn’t dare complain, plastered to the ground, not moving for a long time.

……

Now, A’Shou finally saw the one who had undone the E.

She recognized the name “Fang Xiu”. Apparently he was the one who had solved the Weishan E too.

A young man dressed in red, with quite a decent face, though so thin he looked like a penniless scholar. She could pick him up with one hand.

A’Shou observed him for a while and detected no cultivation or sign of magic on Fang Xiu… He was ordinary as could be, neither a hidden master of the metaphysics nor a natural spirit medium who could perceive the Underworld.

Could it be that Dian’er’s spell had been broken by Li Shuo himself?

Very likely. By now, Li Shuo was practically a half-step ghost immortal. It was a pity he’d completely disappeared, leaving her unable to question him.

All she could do was explain the situation to Fang Xiu and offer an apology. Who would have guessed that the moment Fang Xiu heard the word “compensation”, he perked up on the spot?

“Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation? Come on, let’s have a good talk!”

He spun around sharply, his eyes brighter than any light bulb in the living world.

A’Shou: “……”

A’Shou: “Fine. I’ll take you all back to the Tower first. Then we can discuss further.”

Indeed, Dian’er’s misconduct was the Underworld’s mistake. This human might be shamelessly greedy, but he had a point, so she’d accept it.

Fang Xiu thought for a moment. “You can take them back first. Let’s talk here.”

It was early morning in the human world now. The sun had just risen, the warm rays shining in through the window, slanting across Fang Xiu’s feet.

Bathed in the sunlight, the ceramic Bodhisattva’s features glinted faintly, as though dawn light had formed drops of dew.

Even though the room was cramped and run-down, and even though a scorched corpse lay at his feet, Fang Xiu wanted to linger a little longer.

A’Shou nodded. With a casual closing of her five fingers, the other five people in the small apartment vanished in an instant, leaving only Fang Xiu.

After sending them away, she asked offhandedly, “Where’s your ghost?”

Fang Xiu reflexively looked to Bai Shuangying, and A’Shou followed his gaze. She noticed a vague silhouette in the corner. The concealment was decently done, neither too weak nor strong enough to fool her.

Like an animal trying to hide in a bush with its tail still sticking out.

“My ghost is a bit shy,” Fang Xiu said, scratching his nose.

A’Shou: “…Your ghost?”

What an odd way to phrase it.

Fang Xiu didn’t seem to get the point. “Sure, my ‘seductive ghost’.”

Oh, a “seductive ghost”. A’Shou remembered.

This kid had probably been bewitched; that was why he spoke so intimately. It wasn’t strange for a seductive ghost to have some beguiling illusion magic. If it wanted to hide, let it hide.

Fang Xiu, however, could see Bai Shuangying’s form clearly, along with the distortions around him for concealment, something A’Shou couldn’t discern nearly as well.

Bai Shuangying’s expression showed annoyance, not shock or panic. He didn’t seem to like A’Shou much, but that was it.

In fact, it felt more like the opposite: those pale eyes kept glancing over from time to time, as though wanting to say something but hesitating.

Fang Xiu gave a little smile, winking at Bai Shuangying.

Then he turned to A’Shou. “Anyway, never mind my ghost. Let’s talk about compensation… What were you going to offer us before?”

A’Shou answered honestly, “I will open the Support Magic Weapon Vault for you to pick one protective magic weapon each. Also, I’ll grant you all another day of rest.”

“You mean that ‘cheating’ was controlling Li Shuo to go berserk, right? Without his timely recovery, we’d all have been done for. That really breaks the ritual’s rules.”

Fang Xiu wasn’t lying, but he omitted Bai Shuangying’s involvement. A few steps away, Bai Shuangying visibly relaxed.

So easy to read, Fang Xiu thought with amusement.

He continued, “Underworld magic weapons for protection aren’t that hard to obtain. Last time, I got a Jade Buddha and an Earth Knocking Cauldron. This time I snagged two Five-Emperor Coins… Simply handing us magic weapons is a bit lacking as compensation.”

A’Shou: “???”

No, no, no. An ordinary person can’t just “grab” things like that. Besides, looting is hardly the same as formally choosing what you want.

Before she could retort, Fang Xiu changed direction. “You see how easy it is to grab magic weapons. If we pick some perfect protective items, then someone else comes along and snatches them, we’ll have lost out.”

A’Shou considered. “I can apply a special binding so no one can take them from you.”

Fang Xiu nodded, still muttering, “That’s only slightly better than owning a magic weapon that’s sworn to a master. You people use the ritual to nurture ghost immortals, which is already quite excessive, and I tried my best to break the E yet nearly got screwed over by the Underworld. That’s a pretty half-hearted reward…”

“What exactly do you want?” He obviously knew quite a bit, so A’Shou lowered her voice.

Fang Xiu: “I’m not sure about the others, but as for me, I’d like a Qiankun Bag*, something that can hold lots of stuff and can be sewn onto the inside of a pocket. Can you get me one?”

*A spatial pouch. It’s a bag that has a vast space and can store almost an unlimited number of things inside it, but its size is that of a regular bag.

With that, he concluded seriously, “You could call it a customized item for the dead.”

A’Shou: “…”

Such a detailed request. How annoying this person was.

If this kid actually made it through all eight rituals, who knew what he might ask for then?

She thought back. The Support Magic Weapon Vault indeed didn’t have something like that. But it wasn’t as if Fang Xiu was asking for anything outrageous…

He hadn’t demanded some big weapon that would unbalance the ritual. All he wanted was to store the things he carried. It was more for defense against other humans than against evil spirits.

Given that this kid was the one who solved the Mid-Autumn E, making him the biggest victim in this affair, A’Shou stayed silent for a few seconds, then agreed.

Fang Xiu let out a relieved breath. “Now about my second magic weapon…”

“What second one?”

“Huh? I solved the E, yet I only get the same single item as everyone else? That’s not fair, logically or emotionally. I was on the front line, so I should at least get one extra.”

A’Shou: “……”

A’Shou: “…Go on.”

If this kid tried to name some ridiculous price, she’d definitely teach him a lesson.

Fang Xiu scratched his head apologetically. “I don’t mean to trouble you all the time, so how about I just pick it out with everyone else when we visit the Support Magic Weapon Vault?”

A’Shou pressed her lips together. Fine, she could tolerate that. She had to give him credit for being sensible enough not to push it further.

“Now that it’s settled, I’ll take you back…”

“Wait, I’m not done!” Fang Xiu interrupted.

“We’ve only discussed magic weapon so far. There’s still the matter of that ‘extra day off’.

“Look, the Disaster Relief Tower has no entertainment at all. For us humans, having one more day off there is basically no different from having none, so that’s not really fair.”

A’Shou: “……”

A’Shou: “…Go on.”

Fang Xiu looked up at her pitifully. “Hey, Boss Lady, can we go play outside?”

“No need to send us back to our real bodies. Just let us run around for a day. Let’s stay in this city, is that okay?”

A’Shou eyed him warily. “That’s all?”

“That’s all.” Fang Xiu nodded emphatically.

A’Shou clenched her teeth. “All right.”

She really didn’t want to keep haggling with this guy. She had the sense that the longer they talked, the more she’d lose out.

Besides, the ritual was indeed being held in the human world, so the sacrifices could freely move about among the living.

Their bodies were all Underworld constructs, so there was “nowhere to run and hide”. Plus, with the ritual under way, ghost officers were stationed around the region. Choosing this city made sense. It didn’t require much extra effort on the Underworld’s part.

Such a crafty brat. He always managed to push her right up to the point where she couldn’t reasonably refuse.

“You’re the best, Sister,” Fang Xiu said gratefully. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”

Before A’Shou could respond, Fang Xiu snapped off a piece of Lao Jin, using it like a charcoal stick, and drew a circle around the corpse. “Bai Shuangying, don’t forget to pack it up—”

Sure enough, Fang Xiu’s ghost ambled over. Maintaining his clumsy concealment right under A’Shou’s eyes, he extracted the newly dead soul bit by bit, stowing it away in his arms.

A’Shou was at a complete loss for words.

It was like these two were reincarnations of a juicer, wringing out every last drop.

And the ghost was just like the human. Even with such a formidable ghost immortal (herself) standing there, that “seductive ghost” dared to overcome its apprehension for the sake of a meal.

The moment Lao Jin’s living soul was stripped away entirely, A’Shou couldn’t stand it anymore. She reached out, grabbed both of them, and hauled them back to the Disaster Relief Tower.

The abandoned apartment once again fell silent and empty.

After the tragedy, the so-called “Hoodlum Building” was officially condemned. The city government gave compensation to the owners and decided to demolish it soon. The only reason it hadn’t been torn down immediately was the influence of the Mid-Autumn E.

Now the entire building was utterly quiet. Forget any human bustle. You couldn’t even hear whispers of ghosts.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

Suddenly, a steady rapping sounded at the apartment door.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

The bloodstained door trembled slightly and then went still again, suspended in the air.

Sunlight tinged red by dawn fell across the door, making everything look the same as before.

……

Disaster Relief Tower.

Fang Xiu lounged in the courtyard, looking relaxed and planning to have breakfast before returning to his room.

His mood couldn’t have been better…

He’d earned two more Five-Emperor Coins this time, and now the Underworld had promised him two new magic weapons. On top of that, he still had a new anomaly skill on the way.

It felt exactly like leveling up and waiting to claim your reward pack.

And it was only morning. The “full day of rest” would start tomorrow, plus the promised extra day after that. He effectively had three days off in total!

Most importantly, they no longer had to remain cooped up in this dreary courtyard. They could actually go back out into the human world for a bit!

The breakfast was bountiful. Dian’er was nowhere to be found, and the atmosphere felt quite relaxed. Humming a little tune, Fang Xiu picked up some steamed buns, swaying back and forth with contentment.

Meanwhile, Bai Shuangying was methodically preparing a “Lao Jin mooncake”, asking in a low voice, “How did you know to cover for me?”

His tone carried a slight haughtiness and a hint of satisfaction, as though saying, “Finally, Fang Xiu has caught on.”

Fang Xiu eyed him in surprise. “You’re a ghost belonging to the Underworld, and you stepped in to stop some Underworld agent’s sneaky ploy. Once the ritual’s over and I’m gone, wouldn’t they give you trouble?”

“That’s why you seemed anxious, wasn’t it?”

Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze slowly.

For some reason, Fang Xiu sensed a hint of dejection in his ghost.

Hurriedly, Fang Xiu added, “I realize now I misunderstood you at first. Actually, your support magic is really strong. If not for you, I’d definitely have died there this time.”

Bai Shuangying: “……”

He turned away, quietly nibbling on the Lao Jin mooncake.

Oh well, never mind. He himself had also played weak in front of the ghost immortal.

It was more important for him to break his seal. There was still much to digest from the cause-and-effect revealed by the Mid-Autumn E.

…Speaking of Mid-Autumn, the Lao Jin mooncake really tasted great.

Li Shuo had practically shredded Lao Jin’s soul, leaving behind a refined and complex flavor. The taste was balanced in an intriguing way, with layers that danced across the palate.

Deciding to focus on the unique taste, Bai Shuangying ignored the bothersome humans for the time being.

Right now, Fang Xiu was clearly in the best spirits in the courtyard.

Knowing all that had happened with the Mid-Autumn E, Cheng Songyun, Guan He, and Mei Lan were subdued. Jia Xu and Blondie, on the other hand, had just been freed and seemed comparatively cheerful.

Blondie just treated it like another free ride, burying himself in his food. Jia Xu was more cautious. Sitting close to Mei Lan, he quietly asked about what had happened.

“Oh, so it all came down to a photo, huh,” he concluded. “That’s not too hard to guess, but Lao Jin captured me before I could figure out the death taboo.”

Mei Lan ignored him.

Glancing aside at Fang Xiu, Jia Xu raised his voice a bit. “With the ritual over, shouldn’t we be happy? Fang Xiu, I heard that female ghost say there’s going to be compensation for us. What is it?”

Fang Xiu explained, including mention of his extra Qiankun Bag. He didn’t bother hiding it. They’d all find out eventually anyway.

Jia Xu shook his head. “Why go for that little extra day in the human world? You could’ve just asked for more magic weapons, right? I’ll tell you…”

Guan He slammed his porridge bowl down with a bang. “You didn’t do anything at all. Could you just shut up?”

Jia Xu hesitated for a couple of seconds, then gave a short laugh. “Young people get heated so easily.”

“I heard about the ritual. A narc officer died, right? Your first time seeing that, of course you’d feel upset.”

He paused meaningfully. “But the police get paid with taxpayers’ money. If they don’t want to do the job, they don’t have to. You see how calm Fang Xiu is. Once you grow up, you’ll realize that someone like Lao Jin can’t thrive so long unless he has police insiders. Don’t oversimplify. Some cops do it just for the pay…”

Before he could finish, Guan He flung his porridge bowl at him. It flew off-target, smashing between two Eight Immortals tables, hot congee splattering everywhere.

Fang Xiu had half expected Cheng Songyun to stop Guan He, but she only frowned, pressing her lips together.

Jia Xu’s face stiffened. “Fang Xiu, say something to him.”

Fang Xiu took a bite of a steamed bun. “He’s not my kid. Why should I?”

“I’m just pointing out some facts. If he can’t handle reality, he’ll drag everyone else down later,” Jia Xu replied with feigned helplessness.

Fang Xiu: “‘You’ll die someday’ is also a fact. Should I remind you about it every day?”

Blondie let out a careless laugh, nearly choking on his soymilk.

Jia Xu: “……”

Jia Xu: “…No need to single me out. All I said was you shouldn’t have wasted your reward by asking for that trip. I’m just giving an objective opinion.”

Fang Xiu chuckled.

Ignoring Jia Xu, he turned to Guan He, who was still breathing hard. “Xiao Guan, do you know why in that photo only Lin Ge’s face showed?”

Guan He’s attention was immediately drawn in. “Why?”

“Because when he left behind his obsession, he was focused on protecting anyone still alive and looking after the families of fallen comrades. He never thought about protecting himself—he knew he was alone. If he died, it would all be over.”

Guan He: “…Yeah.”

“For me, I’m the same way. If I die, that’s the end of it.”

Fang Xiu grinned. “But people call Lin Ge a ‘lone hero’. People like me, well, they’d call me a ‘desperado’.”

Guan He, Jia Xu: “……”

The courtyard fell silent.

Fang Xiu was still smiling. “Well, now that we’re all on the subject, let me break the ice.”

“That Mid-Autumn E fiasco made it pretty clear how the Underworld chooses sacrifices. Everyone here, including me, carries at least one life on our conscience. We’ve gone through life-and-death together, so there’s no point keeping secrets or guessing at each other’s pasts.”

“We happen to have some free time today, so how about we all come clean? Let’s share who we got killed.”

---

The author has something to say:

This arc has come to an end! 

Now it’s time for them to collect their rewards and go on a date ☆ 

They can finally head out shopping together!

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 41: A Holiday Accident

Bai Shuangying’s concealment had no effect on Fang Xiu.

In Fang Xiu’s astonished gaze, Bai Shuangying made a light slice with two fingers, his sleeve fluttering like clouds and mist. In that instant, it was as if he had severed heaven and earth. Fang Xiu didn’t understand metaphysical arts, but he could vaguely sense that something connecting this place had been cut off.

It was severed so gently and naturally, like a fallen leaf dropping from its branch.

Li Shuo staggered in place for a couple of steps, the pitch black in his eyes instantly dispersing. He clutched his head and cursed on the spot, spewing a stream of curses. Fang Xiu tried to make sense of his dialect colorful language; it seemed Li Shuo was cursing the Underworld.

“What’s going on?” Fang Xiu hurried over and stopped by Bai Shuangying’s side.

Bai Shuangying spoke frankly. “The Underworld did something to him. If the E took damage while this ghost was still around, it would force him into a frenzy to kill.”

He paused, then added, “However, the spellwork was crude, and its power not strong. Most likely it wasn’t an official order, but a ghost officer acting on its own.”

Fang Xiu clicked his tongue. So Li Shuo was hit with a control spell, and his ghost had rushed in to break it. No wonder Bai Shuangying was the gold-medal support.

It seemed that while Bai Shuangying didn’t understand human nature as well as Fang Xiu, he definitely understood the Underworld better.

Fang Xiu asked, “Why would a ghost officer do something like that?”

“Li Shuo’s obsession isn’t that deep, and he still has reason. Otherwise, by a fierce ghost’s nature, there’s no way he’d just sit back and let you destroy the E.”

Bai Shuangying looked toward Li Shuo, who was still dizzy and disoriented. “When a human becomes a fierce ghost, it’s hard for them to have some towering, earth-shaking obsession. As time passes, that obsession fades, and most fierce ghosts naturally disappear.”

Fang Xiu could understand that. Otherwise, with so many people dead across the ages, the number of ghosts would have skyrocketed.

He thought it over. “The ghost officer sees Li Shuo is almost at the threshold of becoming a ghost immortal, and worries he’ll just let go of his obsession at the final moment, going soft on the match?”

Bai Shuangying nodded.

No wonder, Fang Xiu thought.

Back then, the Underworld hadn’t been so polite to Old Man Fu, even turning a blind eye when Fang Xiu killed him. Compared to Old Man Fu, whose ascension was a long shot, Li Shuo was clearly more valuable.

It wouldn’t be surprising if “raising a ghost immortal” counted toward some ghost officer’s performance review, so one of them pulling a dirty trick wasn’t shocking.

…Once he got out of here, he was definitely going to file a complaint!

“Damn it, I said stop dragging your feet and burn the photo already!” Li Shuo snapped, baring his teeth.

Fang Xiu took the lighter from Guan He and lit it again.

This time, the flames ignited smoothly.

Music vanished. The fireworks went silent.

In front of Fang Xiu, the beautiful night sky peeled away, revealing old, mildewed wallpaper. Where the full moon had been, there was actually a dust-covered ceramic Guanyin.

As the karma struck, Bai Shuangying suddenly flashed behind Fang Xiu, wrapping him fully in his arms. Fang Xiu didn’t have time to think before he was engulfed by the surging torrent of karma.

……

After cutting ties with his family, Li Shuo had been living in Anhe City in Gui Province.

In Anhe City, there was an old residential building, a relic from the last century. Each apartment was barely thirty square meters, and the structure was in terrible shape. The surrounding neighbors mockingly called it the “Hoodlum Building”…

The units were so run-down that nobody would buy them. Only shady types with nowhere else to go still lived there.

Li Shuo owned one of those apartments.

It had originally belonged to his grandmother. The décor was what the old lady had left behind, ugly and broken.

The most eye-catching spot in the living room still had a ceramic Guanyin statue. The statue looked cheap, but the old lady had burned incense and prayed to it every day, filling the unit with smoke.

Li Shuo had turned the place over to a “building manager”; someone who didn’t do contracts or check IDs and rented only to the city’s most down-and-out crowd.

The building manager took sixty percent of the rent as a management fee. Considering how hard the place was to manage, Li Shuo felt that was fair enough.

It was just a bit of cigarette money every month, he thought.

Truth be told, Li Shuo had dropped out after junior high and could only do menial work. He’d move goods in a supermarket and wait tables in a restaurant. He always felt the work was too hard, and within days he’d bail, leading to a quick-fired cycle.

Eventually, Li Shuo took up a job delivering food. Once he earned enough, he’d laze around his rental place streaming short videos and playing games, then when the money ran out, he’d go back to making deliveries.

But he still found life unsatisfying. He wanted more money, somehow.

One day, he set his sights on his tenants.

He planned to swing by his own apartment, pick out some “damage”, and extort a bit of cash. After all, it was his property, so whatever he said would go.

But as soon as Li Shuo opened his door, he chickened out.

Why? Because this tenant looked like a badass. He was well-built and half a head taller than Li Shuo, with a rugged stubble on his chin that made it hard to guess his age.

He was smoking a cigarette, and when he gave Li Shuo a quick once over, Li Shuo’s scheme to squeeze him died on the spot.

“Uh, big bro, this is my place, right? I just came back to grab something,” Li Shuo stammered, laughing stiffly.

Big Bro: “Oh.”

“Big bro, what’s your last name?”

“Lin.”

“Then I’ll call you Lin Ge.”

Li Shuo chuckled, rummaging in the cabinets like he was looking for something. All he found were a few old photos of his grandmother. He hemmed and hawed for a while, saying he missed his grandma and wanted to take a couple of pictures to look at.

To his surprise, Lin Ge wasn’t annoyed. He tapped his cigarette ashes and looked a bit less impatient. “Take them all if you want. Just don’t come bother me unnecessarily.”

With that, he leaned casually by the window, blowing smoke rings out onto the street.

If you wanted to see presence, this was it. Suddenly Li Shuo thought Lin Ge was very cool, obviously the kind of big bro who “knows a lot”.

That big bro must know how to make money.

Li Shuo had never been able to hold down a job for long, whether it was deliveries or other gigs, and he didn’t really have any friends. It was rare to see a potential connection, so why not try to build it?

So he asked, “Big bro, can I add you on WeChat? If anything breaks in the apartment, I can come by and fix it.”

There weren’t many things worth fixing in that place. Lin Ge eyed him, unamused. “No need. I’m just crashing here overnight.”

Li Shuo immediately tried his small-time-hustler’s stubbornness. “Then maybe your phone number? So I can reach you if something comes up.”

Worn down, Lin Ge muttered something like “Mm,” and Li Shuo hastily saved that string of digits, calling Lin Ge’s phone in person. Lin Ge gave the screen a casual glance but didn’t bother saving his number.

Li Shuo didn’t mind. It just made Lin Ge seem even cooler.

After that, Li Shuo sent Lin Ge weekly text messages to keep in touch. All of them vanished without reply, and Li Shuo began to suspect he’d been blocked.

But that Mid-Autumn Festival, he texted again: [Happy Mid-Autumn! I’m broke, no family, no girlfriend. Wanna grab a drink? It’s on me.]

Surprisingly, Lin Ge replied this time: [Sure.]

They met up at a barbecue stall. Nearby, a pedestrian street that had opened just a year ago was launching fireworks in celebration.

Lin Ge wasn’t much of a talker and didn’t like discussing himself. Their meal together was hardly more personal than sharing a table with strangers. Even so, it was rare for Li Shuo to spend Mid-Autumn with anyone, and he got a bit tipsy, lamenting his troubles.

“Life’s not fair,” he mumbled drunkenly. “The easier jobs all… all want at least a junior college diploma. That’s educational discrimination, you know… Hard for an ordinary guy to make a buck…”

Lin Ge responded half-heartedly, focusing on his mutton skewers.

“Big bro, you know any good gigs for quick cash? Hook me up?” Li Shuo waved his beer bottle, finally getting to the point.

“Heh heh, and if it’s a bit shady, that’s fine. I’m ready…”

Lin Ge lifted his head and frowned slightly. “Ready for what?”

“I’ve worked in a KTV. Some jobs there pay super high… But they either want good looks and social skills or people who can keep things in line. I’m neither.”

Li Shuo sighed. “Over there you can earn more than ten thousand a month. In the supermarket I work my butt off and don’t even make five thousand…”

“Man, you know money’s a great thing! With money, all kinds of girls flock to you, and I wouldn’t have to smoke this cheap stuff…”

Lin Ge: “…Money is indeed a great thing.”

Li Shuo sensed something odd about Lin Ge’s tone, but his booze-soaked brain couldn’t figure out exactly what.

He noticed something else: Lin Ge’s shirt pocket was a bit stuffed, and a corner of something, like a photo, peeked out.

Could it be a picture of some woman? Taking advantage of his drunkenness, Li Shuo reached out…

Lin Ge’s face changed slightly, his whole body tensing, but then he relaxed and reached out a hand. “Don’t mess with it. Give it back.”

Li Shuo looked at the photo and blinked in confusion.

It seemed new. The image showed a pedestrian street shining bright with lights, fireworks and a full moon frozen overhead.

At the center were seven or eight young men enjoying a night out, all with radiant smiles, clearly very close friends. There were no women, so not the pretty girl Li Shuo had imagined.

Li Shuo felt a bit disappointed. “What’s this?”

“My friends,” Lin Ge said casually.

Li Shuo: “Carrying your friends’ photo to come out drinking, Big Bro, aren’t you sentimental?”

Lin Ge gave him an exasperated glance and snatched back the photo. “…One of my buddies in the picture died. I’m bringing him out for the holiday.”

Li Shuo: “!” Wow, that was truly cool.

Li Shuo: “So how come you’re not hanging out with the rest of them?”

Lin Ge: “Mind your own business.”

Chastened, Li Shuo shut his mouth. A few minutes later, he began his usual routine: bemoaning his miserable life… From his rotten family relations to his meager bank balance.

But no matter how pitiful he made it sound, Lin Ge never hinted at giving him any kind of “opportunity”, illicit or otherwise.

In the end, Lin Ge only told him to quit texting so much. But he did say they could eat together on Mid-Autumn in the future.

It was the first time they’d ever eaten together. Li Shuo figured that was progress.

……

Li Shuo kept muddling through life. The next year, on Mid-Autumn, they met again for a small gathering.

Lin Ge had upgraded his look a bit. Li Shuo couldn’t understand why Lin Ge, clearly doing well, still had no one else to spend Mid-Autumn with.

Once again, Li Shuo drank and complained as usual. But then, acting mysterious, he said, “Big bro, do you know ‘Er Gui’?”

That was a name he’d heard somewhere, said to be someone in “the business.” Li Shuo figured if he mentioned it, Lin Ge might look at him differently.

Sure enough, Lin Ge’s brow creased. “Where did you hear that?”

“That’s not important,” Li Shuo said, gnawing on a crab leg. “They say working for Er Gui makes you big money, you know?”

“Do you even know what they do?” Lin Ge cut him off.

Li Shuo: “Heh, they’re just dealing that stuff in KTVs, right? I hear you can make money fast with Er Gui.”

Then he tried to gloss it over, “Come on, lots of people in entertainment mess with that. It’s legal in some foreign countries…”

Lin Ge’s facial muscles tightened. For a second, Li Shuo thought he was going to get hit.

But in the end, Lin Ge only glared at him. “Go read the law and figure out how much your life is worth.”

Li Shuo shut his mouth, his overheated brain rapidly cooling. He wanted money, but he was still more afraid of dying.

So he changed the subject. “Heh heh, Big Bro, you brought that photo again, huh…”

That night, Lin Ge ended up saying quite a bit.

He told Li Shuo that he should spend more energy figuring out what he was good at, that it wouldn’t work in the long run if he just tried everything he saw.

Li Shuo let it go in one ear and out the other. He didn’t care about “the long run”, only quick cash.

Even so, he obeyed their agreement: only contacting Lin Ge when necessary. Actually, Lin Ge even sent Li Shuo two texts himself, asking about the hot water heater in the apartment.

So did that mean they were friends? Probably, Li Shuo thought.

……

The third year, on Mid-Autumn, Lin Ge’s clothes were more upscale, while the barbecue stall they picked was more down-to-earth.

Li Shuo, on the other hand, looked extremely slovenly. His hair was a bit tangled, and his face was sallow from poor lifestyle habits. The two of them sitting together made a strange sight.

This time, before Li Shuo could complain, Lin Ge spoke first. “You’re pretty good at fixing things.”

As soon as Li Shuo got to talk about what he was good at, his energy rose. “I fixed toy cars for classmates in junior high, the kind you race. I got two yuan each time!”

He spoke excitedly, eyes bright.

“Try a repair shop,” Lin Ge suggested after a moment. “If you don’t like heavy work, avoid home appliance calls. Maybe try fixing computers or phones. I hear fixing gaming consoles can also be profitable.”

Then, slightly awkward, he added, “I’m no expert, but if you like it, it can’t hurt to try.”

Li Shuo perked up. “Hey, Big Bro, you know what, I love tinkering with that stuff!”

Lin Ge pointed at the fireworks off in the distance. “That electronics store near the pedestrian street is doing good business. I saw they’re hiring a few days back.”

His tone carried a hint of warmth rarely heard from him.

“I’ll check it out tomorrow!” Li Shuo slapped his thigh.

He was dangerously short on money at the moment, and that kind of work didn’t sound too exhausting, so it was perfect.

With a new goal in mind, Li Shuo’s usual complaints subsided, and they had a more normal conversation. Lin Ge still didn’t share much about himself. He only said he did some kind of business and that it was going alright.

“Big Bro, if you’re doing fine, why still crash at that crappy apartment of mine?” Li Shuo was puzzled.

“Anywhere to sleep is the same. Moving around is more trouble.”

Li Shuo didn’t get it. If he had money, he’d definitely rent a big fancy place. But come to think of it, Lin Ge must really consider him a friend now, because he’d even let Li Shuo watch him take out that photo.

Every time Lin Ge looked at the photo, his expression would grow nostalgic.

Li Shuo thought it must be a dear friend in that picture.

He hoped he and Lin Ge could one day be that close.

……

In the fourth year, on Mid-Autumn, Li Shuo dressed cleanly in a stylish hoodie, his hair partially dyed. Meanwhile, Lin Ge’s attire was surprisingly low-key, dark and drab.

As soon as they met, Li Shuo started chattering away.

He genuinely had talent for repairs, learning fast and doing quality work. The electronics store boss was happy to keep him on, and now Li Shuo was increasingly motivated. He’d never quit, not even if someone tried to force him.

He made around seven thousand a month, and his boss even paid for full insurance. He’d rented a small studio near the pedestrian street. It was quiet, clean, with a great view out the window.

That night, Li Shuo had almost no complaints, and he barely drank.

“Big Bro, the store is crazy busy. Someone even posted a video of me online, so now people mail in their gaming consoles for me to fix. The boss says he’ll give me a raise next year.”

Li Shuo was beaming. “And get this, the girl in the bubble tea shop next door smiles at me all the time. Big Bro, do you think she likes me?”

Lin Ge lit a cigarette, listening and smiling.

Li Shuo suddenly realized the guy had a certain presence when he smiled.

Sure enough, Lin Ge was really cool and definitely knew how to make money. Looking back, Li Shuo felt that forcing a connection back then had been a brilliant decision.

After they’d chatted in their usual routine, Lin Ge did something unexpected: he made a request.

Lin Ge: “Xiao Li, can you look after the photo for me? From now on, whenever we meet on Mid-Autumn, just bring it with you.”

Li Shuo: “Huh?”

It was just a photo so it didn’t take up much space. Why would he need someone else to look after it?

Lin Ge, however, explained very naturally that he’d been crazy busy and kept losing track of stuff, and he worried he might misplace it. Also, with Li Shuo in charge of the photo, he’d be forced to show up for Mid-Autumn gatherings, so he wouldn’t “forget his friend once he got rich.”

Li Shuo liked that second part and happily agreed.

Actually, Lin Ge seemed to have some kind of compulsion. Though he showed up every Mid-Autumn, he made it clear each year that Li Shuo must wait for him to text first about meeting up. If no text arrived by Mid-Autumn, that meant he was busy and Li Shuo shouldn’t bother him.

Businesspeople often had quirks, so Li Shuo accepted that.

“What if you never come?” Li Shuo asked naturally.

Lin Ge paused his drag on the cigarette, then smiled. “Then burn the photo.”

“…Huh?”

“It’s actually my friend’s photo. After he died, his family wanted to burn it for him, but I decided to keep it for myself.”

Lin Ge looked at the full moon. “In the end, returning dust to dust, soil to soil… that’s not so bad.”

Li Shuo drew a sharp breath. So it was something belonging to a deceased person. They say businesspeople are superstitious, yet Lin Ge wasn’t bothered by the bad luck?

But then again, if it belonged to a friend, maybe it would bless the living. Li Shuo wasn’t too sure.

Ultimately, Li Shuo took the photo, promising to bring it every Mid-Autumn from then on.

…After all, Lin Ge wasn’t only half a benefactor but a friend.

Year after year, these casual gatherings, helping each other out… If they weren’t bros, what were they?

……

The fifth year, Mid-Autumn Daytime.

Li Shuo was in a fantastic mood. He decided to swing by the “Hoodlum Building” to give Lin Ge a surprise.

He had a lot to tell him, more than they could cover over a single meal…

After working at the electronics store for two years, business was booming. The boss had promoted him to assistant manager, and now he could earn over ten thousand a month.

What’s more, he was dating the girl from the bubble tea shop.

Her name was Juanzi, and she wasn’t very pretty nor curvy. Definitely lightyears away from the beauties in short videos. Now, though, Li Shuo didn’t mind at all. After all, he was short himself and not handsome, so having an honest, steady relationship was great.

Plus, he thought Juanzi’s smile was adorable, better-looking than any influencer’s grin.

But if he wanted to start a family, he needed savings.

Li Shuo had calculated carefully. Quitting smoking saved a couple hundred every month. Cutting back on food and drink and renting a slightly cheaper place gave him a few hundred more. He could put aside over eight thousand a month, nearly a hundred thousand a year!

After three years, he’d have three hundred thousand, enough for a down payment on a place…

Then he could bring Juanzi home to meet his folks. Looking back, he’d been really out of line before. Now that he was doing well, it’d be a good time to mend fences with his family…

In short, he planned to spend Mid-Autumn night on a date with Juanzi, so he couldn’t meet Lin Ge in the evening.

Thus, Li Shuo wanted to shift their gathering to daytime, maybe pick up some dating tips from Lin Ge.

Before heading to the Hoodlum Building, he even bought some nice food and drink, not forgetting the photo.

After all, Lin Ge hadn’t texted him yet about meeting this year, so Li Shuo wasn’t sure he was free. No big deal if he wasn’t. Worst case, Li Shuo would make the trip for nothing. It was his own apartment anyway.

To be honest, he hadn’t been back to the Hoodlum Building in years, and he was a bit curious.

…But the moment Li Shuo reached his door, someone smashed him in the face.

He was instantly dazed, feeling two streams of hot liquid from his nose, and the food in his hands dropped to the ground with a crash.

Next, someone grabbed him and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut.

The floor was covered in blood, and in an instant his clothes had soaked it up, turning heavy and sticky.

…Why was there so much blood on the floor?

Half in a stupor, Li Shuo heard voices speaking above him.

“Who’s this?” asked a rough voice.

“The building manager said he’s some deadbeat who left home years ago, probably no problem,” another answered, stepping on Li Shuo’s back. “…He’s a nobody.”

No, he wasn’t a “nobody,” Li Shuo hazily thought.

He was a person, and he was living a decent life.

He was an assistant store manager, had a cute girlfriend, and made ten thousand a month.

“What now, Er Gui Ge?” asked the voice.

That hoarse voice gave a short laugh. “He showed up himself. What do you think? Kill him.”

Li Shuo couldn’t quite process it, but Er Gui sounded like he was talking about a piece of meat rather than a person.

“Wait,” Er Gui added, “that cop isn’t dead yet. Let him watch us kill this punk and see if he’s still so tough.”

They dragged Li Shuo to the living room. Through the tilted blur of his vision, he saw a man drenched in blood.

He was on the brink of death, blood covering his face. But Li Shuo recognized him: it was Lin Ge.

Lin Ge seemed to recognize him as well. For the first time in five years, Li Shuo saw fear in Lin Ge’s eyes.

A thick stench of blood filled his nostrils. Li Shuo gradually realized…

…Er Gui was a drug dealer.

…And “that cop” was Lin Ge, an undercover narc.

Lin Ge never used WeChat or saved phone numbers; he carried a photo but wouldn’t keep it where he lived.

He turned serious whenever Li Shuo mentioned Er Gui and the drug trade.

He never talked about his family or got in touch with friends. One of his friends had already died in an “accident”…

Li Shuo felt, for the first time in his life, that he was suddenly very smart, even smarter than when he’d tinkered with toy cars in junior high.

He realized what “accident” probably meant. That friend must also have been a narc, just like Lin Ge.

He suddenly understood the terror in Lin Ge’s eyes: half of it was for Li Shuo and half for that photo… for the still-living colleagues in it.

At that moment, Li Shuo wasn’t thinking grandly about justice or morality.

…He only thought that he’d brought the photo into hell, so he had to fix it.

…He couldn’t let his brother’s comrade go down because of him.

Somehow, he found the strength to stagger up and stumble toward the inner room.

This was his grandmother’s apartment, and he’d stayed here often as a kid. He knew how to wedge the door so it wouldn’t open easily.

The window had security bars, so Er Gui’s men weren’t in a hurry; they treated him like a caged animal. As they pounded on the door, Li Shuo dug out the photo.

It was soaked in blood, stained with a dark red patch.

Li Shuo stumbled to the windowsill, finding a familiar gap in the bricks. The old place was full of gaps, and this one was his secret stash. As a child, he’d hidden pocket money here to keep his parents from taking it.

He managed a slight smile and shoved the photo inside. The gap was deep, and the darkness swallowed it whole.

He was careful not to smear any blood near the gap.

The photo was safe, he thought; nobody would ever find it.

With a dull thud, someone kicked the door open.

A foot stomped him to the floor and dragged him back into the living room, the attacker growling curses that basically meant “Don’t bother yelling for help. This is the Hoodlum Building, nobody here cares.”

Li Shuo tuned him out, glancing sideways at the young goon hauling him.

That goon was under thirty, about his age. The way he spewed insults looked exactly like another version of himself.

Despite the agony, Li Shuo almost wanted to laugh. If he hadn’t met Lin Ge, maybe he’d be standing there, doing the killing.

Money really was a great thing, Li Shuo thought.

If you can command “ghosts” with money, you first have to make them into ghosts.

They dragged Li Shuo back to the living room.

Lin Ge was still breathing raggedly, his eyes filled with despair as he stared at Li Shuo, as if wanting to push him away from danger by sight alone.

Li Shuo licked the blood on his lips. Suddenly it hit him. Lin Ge probably wasn’t really named Lin. He might never learn the man’s real name.

Big Bro, it’s pointless, he thought.

“Big Bro, it’s alright,” he said.

…This wasn’t your fault. It’s just my own awful luck; don’t blame yourself.

…I don’t want to die. I’m not resigned to this. I hate it. But I know who I should hate.

Li Shuo rolled his eyes upward, fixing a ferocious stare on Er Gui as he watched the gruesome spectacle.

He no longer remembered exactly when he died or when Lin Ge died.

He only knew that Er Gui’s men didn’t finish them off quickly. Blood was everywhere, his eyes were veiled in red, and the pain twisted his memory beyond all recognition.

He only remembered the final glance he cast on the world…

Night fell darker and darker; the pain drifted further and further away. In the blood pooling around him, Li Shuo saw the reflection of his grandmother’s ceramic Bodhisattva.

After all these years, Lin Ge still hadn’t taken it.

In the cold blood, Li Shuo couldn’t close his eyes.

Li Shuo didn’t know that in the moment he breathed his last, Lin Ge struggled to move a finger. He stared in agony at the dying young man, eyes shot with blood.

He noticed Li Shuo’s clothing was slightly disarrayed, as though someone had searched him. He saw the change in Li Shuo’s expression, and guessed Li Shuo had deliberately run into the inner room to hide something.

Once, a friend of his had died protecting innocent people.

Now, another friend had died protecting innocent people.

That had been his job. He should have carried on his friend’s cause, keeping his colleagues and the public safe.

Maybe it was all beyond repair now, and he couldn’t do anything anymore, but…

[Those who should be protected are the innocent.]

Deep in the gap of the bricks, a swirl of yin energy began to gather. It spun faster and faster, forming an invisible storm. The temperature plummeted. Within that darkness, any lurking evil spirit was wiped out on the spot.

On the bloodstained photo, one evil spirit after another appeared, while the faces of the people gradually vanished, leaving only the backs of their heads.

An object with an obsession, collecting karma, becomes an “E”.

In the vortex entangling countless threads of karma, the photo bore the same resolve. Once again it became a keepsake, devouring that obsession and mechanically converting it into three taboos:

Evil spirits carry a blood debt and aren’t allowed to leave.

At three quarters before noon, one life must be paid.

…Remember, there are prying eyes; no showing your face.

……

Fang Xiu opened his eyes to find himself wrapped tightly in Bai Shuangying’s arms. The remnants of the photo were still burning, drifting lightly through the air.

Flames licked at the laughing faces, turning them to ash.

…He felt a weight in his hand. It was the demon-revealing mirror.

Fang Xiu quickly turned his head. They were in a thirty-square-meter run-down apartment, and everyone was there.

Li Shuo was there, and so was Lao Jin, who had just taken his last breath. Li Shuo’s face was expressionless, his eyes sweeping over that dusty Bodhisattva statue.

Beside him, Lin Ge’s apparition had vanished.

The last few wisps of ash fell at his feet, like a period marking the end.

Something felt off, Fang Xiu thought. The E had been completely destroyed, but the paper figure hadn’t shown up, and the “immunity to evil” effect hadn’t kicked in.

Li Shuo lowered his head to look at the bit of ash, then laughed. “So, now you know what happened.”

Fang Xiu, Bai Shuangying: “Yes.”

Fang Xiu: “?”

Bai Shuangying had pressed so close because he wanted a firsthand look at the photo’s cause-and-effect?

Either way, Fang Xiu didn’t dwell on it for now. He kept his attention on Li Shuo. “So can you tell us your obsession now?”

Li Shuo lowered his gaze and took out an unlit cigarette. Without the E’s power, his figure was far less solid than before.

“I’m just not reconciled,” he said. “I died before I’d really lived. I wanted to see them get what they deserved.”

“But after sacrificing so many people during the festival, I stopped caring that much. You kill enough people, and it just feels the same…”

Silence fell over the room.

Guan He and the others didn’t know the story behind the E, but they could sense the sorrow on Li Shuo’s face.

“…Later I just thought, I hid that photo so carefully, and nobody knew Big Bro had left one. I hoped someone would find it someday and bring it to his family.”

He gave a self-mocking laugh.

“That was my last little wish, but telling you is pointless. You can’t leave this place without destroying the photo, so it’s a dead end.”

Fang Xiu was quiet for a while. “Do you know why I brought up ‘Er Gui’ to you?”

“Why?”

“Because I knew you had a grudge against him. After your deaths, the case was huge news, reported everywhere, handled with extra severity. Er Gui’s gang was executed by firing squad, and all their upstream and downstream partners were arrested.”

“It’s just a pity there wasn’t enough evidence to deal with Boss Jin. He lay low abroad for two years back then.”

Hearing that, Cheng Songyun exclaimed, “I remember that news story.”

Li Shuo watched Fang Xiu intently. “And then?”

Fang Xiu: “After that, Lin Ge’s photo was publicly commemorated in an official report… Actually, you didn’t have to wait. He had no ‘family’ who could take that photo.”

Otherwise, the official media wouldn’t have displayed it openly.

“…Also, his last name really was Lin.”

Li Shuo was silent a long time. At last, he chuckled. “Makes sense. No wonder he only ever brought that group photo on Mid-Autumn.”

Then he grabbed the bloody mess that was Lao Jin and dragged him to the dried bloodstain in the center of the floor.

With a snap of his fingers, the new corpse of mangled flesh burst into flames.

Though Lao Jin’s body was covered in blood, the fire burned slowly, refusing to die out.

Finally, Li Shuo took the unlit cigarette, touching it to the flame. Blue smoke rose in curling wisps, just like old times.

“Lin Ge, share one with me.”

He stood the cigarette upright, placing it in the incense burner before the ceramic Bodhisattva.

Guan He felt sad watching. In a soft voice, he said, “I remember that article now. Everyone called Lin Ge a saint…”

Li Shuo didn’t look back. “Bullshit. If he were that heartless, he wouldn’t have kept the photo or worried about my life. If he’d done it that way, then maybe you could call him unfeeling and transcendent.”

“Sometimes I think he was exhausted, holed up on his own, chain-smoking… There aren’t that many saints in the world. Lin Ge was just an ordinary guy.”

Fang Xiu: “But really cool.”

Li Shuo burst out laughing. “Yeah, Lin Ge was really cool.”

He laughed for a long time, long enough for Lao Jin’s last sounds to vanish and that cigarette to burn down to its butt.

“So I’ve been dead four or five years, huh.”

“Juanzi probably got married to someone else, and the store must have a new assistant manager by now. It’s good that I never patched things up with my family. This way, they won’t be too upset about my death… when I think of it that way, I guess there’s nothing left tying me here.”

Li Shuo glanced at the nearly finished cigarette, then turned to Fang Xiu.

“In the end, you still got me to move on.”

Leaning back against Bai Shuangying, Fang Xiu waved a hand at Li Shuo as though seeing off a friend in a routine farewell.

He looked oddly calm, and for an instant Li Shuo thought he saw a hint of envy in Fang Xiu’s eyes.

What a strange person.

Li Shuo shook his head, smiling, then turned back to the incense burner.

The ember on the cigarette in the incense burner dimmed, about to go out.

Li Shuo stood at the place where he had died, folding his hands as he remembered his grandma lighting incense. He slowly closed his eyes.

“Homage to the greatly compassionate and merciful Guanyin Bodhisattva…”

Yin energy dissolved, caught in a swirl of wind. The young man’s figure vanished like mist.

All that remained on the dark bloodstain was Lao Jin’s scorched corpse.

With Lao Jin’s death, the demon-revealing mirror trembled and released Huang Mao and Jia Xu, both looking dazed. The space shifted abruptly, and they started yelling in confusion.

Fang Xiu didn’t bother explaining. He walked toward the incense burner where the smoke was still dispersing and took out Lao Jin’s golden Bodhisattva statue.

With a quiet clink, he dropped it onto the empty offering plate, then bowed to the ceramic figure.

“Hey bud, since you’re not taking living souls, I shouldn’t waste this,” Fang Xiu muttered. “I’m feeding Lao Jin to my ghost. I hope that’s okay.”

Then he turned, about to call Bai Shuangying, only to see Bai Shuangying frown sharply and hide himself on the spot.

Fang Xiu: “……?”

What, was he so picky now that he wouldn’t even eat?

He didn’t have time to speak before a sudden gust blew behind him, sending a chill up his neck. Instantly, Fang Xiu sensed something was off.

“So you’re the one who broke the ‘Mid-Autumn E’?” came a cold, rasping female voice.

It came from behind him. The speaker was clearly a woman, yet her stature seemed taller than his. A bloodstained wedding robe fluttered into Fang Xiu’s peripheral vision.

Goosebumps prickled all over him; he didn’t turn around immediately.

This time the Underworld hadn’t sent the paper figure; the aura of this newcomer was worlds apart.

“Yes, I broke it. So what?” Fang Xiu steadied his breathing.

The woman’s voice went quiet for a few seconds. “Good.”

“Sorry about this. Someone on our side cheated. As their superior, I’m here personally to apologize.”

She spoke decisively. “As for your compensation, the Underworld side…”

Fang Xiu: “?” That woke him right up.

He spun around like a spinning top, voice brimming with vigor. “Hold on. Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation?”

“Come on, let’s have a good talk—!”

---

The author has something to say:

Actually, it was enough content for two chapters, but since there wasn’t a good place to split, I went ahead and wrote it all at once… Praise me!!! 

Also, the edits I’ve made these past couple of days are just slight adjustments to some dialogue wording to make it easier to understand, without touching the plot _(:з」∠)_ 

By this calculation, the pedestrian street has been standing for exactly nine years, and Li Shuo has participated in five rituals (including the Mid-Autumn Festival when he died). Five rituals in total, catching up to Old Man Fu ten years of dedicated training, truly a top student. 

———————————— 

By the way, let me just say this outright: if someone in our country is pushing for marijuana legalization, they’re either ignorant or malicious, or both. If there’s someone like that around you, it’s best to keep your distance.

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<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 40: A Gathering of Friends

Guan He glanced at Half Mountain, then looked at Fang Xiu in confusion.

A quasi-ghost immortal? Is there really a half-step ghost immortal here? …Wasn’t that just something he made up to trick Lao Jin?

Half-step ghost immortals sound terrifying. They really should run away. Why is Fang Xiu insisting on provoking him?

Fang Xiu finally snapped the lighter shut. “Elder, you finally decided to show yourself. My fingers hurt from holding the flame so long.”

Half Mountain cast him a sidelong look. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll snatch your lighter?”

“I’ll introduce someone: this is my ghost, Bai Shuangying. He’s especially good at hiding.”

Fang Xiu pulled Bai Shuangying over proudly. “Our Xiao Guan also knows the Five-Ghost Relocation, so he can swipe the lighter anytime he wants.”

“If you show any suspicious moves, Xiao Guan will grab the lighter, and Bai Shuangying will hide him. That way, we can quietly strike a spark and still get away.”

Half Mountain: “……”

Fine. You’re ruthless.

Fang Xiu went on, “Anyway, we’ve already killed all the evil spirits, so there’s no risk of it leaking outside. See how sincere I am?”

Half Mountain gave a cold laugh. “You call that killing evil spirits? After all that fuss, I thought you were torturing them for information.”

Fang Xiu instinctively looked at Bai Shuangying, only to see his own ghost’s eyes brimming with agreement, and he visibly deflated. “How can you say that…?”

What, did his demon-vanquishing pose not look cool enough?

That said, this half-step ghost immortal, despite his poisonous tongue, was good about keeping his distance; he showed no intent to grab the lighter by force. They stood beside a brightly lit street stall, and the atmosphere was unexpectedly pleasant.

“So, what exactly did you call me out here for?”

Half Mountain crossed his arms, looking like any random, high-spirited young man on the street. “When you destroy the karma linked to that photo, you’ll know the truth. Why make me spell it out for you?”

At this point, Half Mountain wasn’t hiding the fact that “the photo is the E.”

Fang Xiu shook his head and said solemnly, “What is your obsession?”

He set aside his playful tone, asking very seriously.

Half Mountain was different from the God of Weishan.

The God of Weishan had never been a fierce ghost. During her human life, she accumulated great merit and ascended as a human.

Half Mountain, on the other hand, had clearly gone from human to fierce ghost, then cultivated this “E” as a fierce ghost. For a human to become a fierce ghost, obsession was indispensable.

Sure enough, hearing Fang Xiu’s question about obsession, Half Mountain’s expression changed. “What does my obsession have to do with you?”

“We can only leave if we destroy the E,” Fang Xiu said gravely. “I know how important the photo is to you, but I’m not about to die here…so as compensation, I’d like to help you free yourself from that obsession.”

Half Mountain snorted. “You want to send me off, huh.”

“Yes. Anyone you need me to pass a message to? Or maybe someone you want killed? I can handle either.”

Fang Xiu explained his “services” with practiced ease.

“Oh? Sounds pretty professional. Do you do this kind of work exclusively?” Half Mountain didn’t answer directly but teased, “…Then again, they say you accumulate virtue by doing this, and you don’t strike me as virtuous.”

Fang Xiu: “……”

Fang Xiu: “Usually I charge for dealing with obsessions. Given the circumstances, I’ll make an exception for you.”

Bai Shuangying’s spirits lifted when he heard that. So he was right. Fang Xiu really was an Underworld assassin who worked for money. Thinking this, Bai Shuangying patted his human’s head, quite satisfied.

Fang Xiu immediately played along, leaning on Bai Shuangying in a conspicuously showy way. It was as though there was an invisible banner that read: “Human-Ghost Harmony—Underworld Services Rendered with Expertise” floating around them.

Half Mountain mulled it over for a long time and sighed. “Come with me.”

He led them to the small electronics store.

At the moment, the place was empty. The money Fang Xiu had left to rent a camera was still on the counter. With Half Mountain no longer blocking it, the door to the storeroom stood out a bit more.

“You don’t look particularly surprised,” Half Mountain observed, sizing up Fang Xiu’s face.

Fang Xiu shrugged. “No smoking in public places, and this street is doing good business now. Who’d be smoking in such a tiny shop? The first time I saw you, I felt something was off.”

“Then why didn’t you call me out?”

“Because maybe you were just being inconsiderate,” Fang Xiu said, shooting him a glance.

Half Mountain: “……”

Dammit, he only made a couple of snide remarks, and this kid’s already holding a grudge.

Half Mountain sighed again, straightened his clothes, and knocked on the storeroom door. “Brother, I brought them.”

No response from inside. Half Mountain gave a wry smile, then opened the door himself.

Inside, the actual shop clerk was tidying goods in the corner. Deeper in the storeroom sat a figure who didn’t belong there at all.

That person was perched on a box, sipping soda. In fact, his posture would’ve fit perfectly at the barbecue stall.

The most striking thing was that, like Half Mountain, his facial features were fully intact.

He appeared to be about the same age as Half Mountain, smiling brightly and looking totally at ease. He dressed similarly to the other young men at the stall, wearing plain clothes but looking sharp and energetic.

“Let me introduce him: he’s my big brother.”

Half Mountain said, “He’s only that fresh-faced in the photo. When I first met him, he didn’t look this young at all.”

Fang Xiu looked at his face without a word.

Half Mountain: “You must’ve figured it out: my big bro was an anti-drug police officer, and this is his photo. He was found out while undercover and lost his life.”

Fang Xiu and Guan He held their breath, gazing at Half Mountain, but he didn’t continue the story.

Instead, he casually changed the topic. “As for me, I’m just an ordinary guy. The reason I’m stuck here is much like Xiao Guan’s. I was in junior high when I took my younger cousins to a reservoir. Swimming was banned, but I wanted to show off and got them into the water, and they drowned.”

Guan He got nervous. “Then you and your family…”

“Don’t look at me; I can’t help you.”

Half Mountain waved helplessly. “My relatives cut me off because of that incident, and then I took up smoking and drinking, never improved. At least you and your mom can still talk. I don’t even contact my family when New Year comes around.”

At that, he gave a self-deprecating smile. “If I hadn’t met Big Bro, I probably would’ve become a sacrifice.”

Fang Xiu withdrew his gaze from the “Big Brother”. “I’m very sorry.”

Without the buildup of cause and effect, and without an obsession, an object wouldn’t become an “E”. For this fallen police officer, the Mid-Autumn photo had to be a treasured keepsake.

It captured a richly festive atmosphere and a joyful gathering of friends. Just looking at it made people happy. Even an outsider like Fang Xiu was fond of it.

But for Half Mountain, it wasn’t just the core to his ascension. It was also a precious relic of a friend.

“…I’m really sorry,” Fang Xiu repeated, voice heavier this time.

Half Mountain looked at him. “I’m already a fierce ghost. It’s not like I have happy emotions left, so your apology doesn’t matter.”

“Besides, if I said I couldn’t give it up, would you just stay here and die with your companions?”

Fang Xiu hurried to change the subject. “You’re obviously able to cast a spell to hide your Big Brother’s face. Why bring him out here?”

Half Mountain responded without thinking. “Leaving him every night in the line of sight of those beasts…bothers me.”

It took Fang Xiu a few seconds to realize he was talking about that giant face during the Blood Night. Strictly speaking, it was just a taboo-generated concept, not an actual drug dealer watching them.

But Half Mountain still refused, and indeed, fierce ghosts tend to be stubborn.

While Fang Xiu was thinking this, Half Mountain placed “Big Bro’s” arm around his shoulder. Perhaps it was thanks to the E’s approval that he could effortlessly touch the illusion.

Propping him up like a friend, Half Mountain said, “Never mind obsessions for the moment. Since we’re not going to fight, how about having a few drinks together?

“I saw you pulling out good stuff earlier. Since you’re set on destroying my E, it’s not too much for me to freeload a bit, right?”

Fang Xiu said sincerely, “I’ve got Wangzai brand almond milk or canned fruit syrup. Take your pick.”

“Bring it all,” Half Mountain answered bluntly.

……

The moonlight was bright, and neon lights were flashing.

On the last day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, what had been a brutal struggle for survival turned into a little gathering around the barbecue stall.

Half Mountain moved “Big Bro” back to the stall, and everyone gathered around a big table. Fang Xiu brought out all the offerings he could find. At a glance, it really did seem like a group of friends getting together.

The half-step ghost immortal chugged a bottle of soda in one go. “Yeah, that’s the taste. Eating raw souls just never sits right. A person needs some junk food…”

He seemed totally casual, not treating Fang Xiu’s group as strangers at all.

Guan He had been holding back for a while and couldn’t help asking, “We’re going to destroy the photo. Do you really not mind?”

Half Mountain smiled wryly. “If I said I didn’t care, would you believe me?”

Guan He fell silent.

Though Half Mountain’s tone was light, it held a hint of regret.

“Saying I don’t care is a lie, but what else can I do? You’ve got a plan to burn it anyway.”

“Besides, you’re not guilty enough to deserve death, and Fang Xiu’s acting like a bounty hunter… If I actually killed you all to keep the photo, Big Bro would probably roll in his grave,” Half Mountain muttered.

“Come on, a toast to Half Mountain,” Fang Xiu said, raising a soda can.

“Stop calling me ‘Half Mountain’ already.” The half-step ghost immortal was annoyed. “My name is Li Shuo. Li as in dawn, Shuo as in sparkle*.”

*Clarity: The Li (黎) from dawn [liming] (黎明), the Shuo (烁) from twinkle/sparkles [shanshuo] (闪烁)

Saying this, he set half of his food before “Big Bro”, even though they all knew that illusion couldn’t really enjoy any of it.

“Alright, a toast to Li Shuo.” Once Li Shuo finished arranging things, Fang Xiu raised his can again.

Only then did Li Shuo lift his can to clink it with Fang Xiu’s.

“…Actually, speaking of who cares about this photo, I think the Underworld cares even more than I do.”

Li Shuo tore into a chicken leg, grease dripping. “Not long after I got sealed in the photo, they sent a paper figure to babble all sorts of explanations…wait, would that be ‘science popularization’? Or ‘metaphysical popularization’?

“Anyway, they told me I was entangled in the karma of this ‘E’ and suitable for cultivating as a ghost immortal. I thought watching those scum kill each other was satisfying enough, plus I had some personal attachments, so I just went with it.”

Guan He was stunned. “The Underworld is actually raising ghost immortals?!”

“It’s not quite like that,” Fang Xiu interrupted, talking around a mouthful of pastry.

“If we succeed in destroying the E, we remove a source of yin energy in the human realm, so the Underworld wins.”

“If we die in the ritual, we nurture a ghost immortal who refines the E, and the Underworld still wins. Since it’s peacetime, fresh souls aren’t that easy to come by. And if a ghost immortal has taken the Underworld’s investment of souls, they’ve definitely got to pay up somehow.”

Guan He understood. “So whether the E is broken or not, the underworld benefits, but cultivating a ghost immortal is even more profitable for them.”

Fang Xiu turned to Li Shuo. “Speaking of that, what price is the underworld asking from you?”

“No idea. They said we’d talk once I ascend.”

Fang Xiu scratched his chin. “Hmm…”

Li Shuo finished the roast chicken and started on fruit, continuing to spill the Underworld’s secrets with cheerful candor.

“Thing is, the power of this photo is limited. It only opens during the Mid-Autumn Festival. So each year at Mid-Autumn, the Underworld sends in a batch of sacrifices and evil spirits.

“In a week or so, they mostly kill each other off, and I finish off any survivors. That ends the ritual for the year. Then I wait for the next Mid-Autumn… It’s been ages since I enjoyed a normal holiday. These oranges are delicious…”

Fang Xiu listened closely, idly pinching Bai Shuangying’s sleeve.

Come to think of it, Bai Shuangying had been unusually quiet. Fang Xiu turned his head and saw Bai Shuangying staring hard at Li Shuo.

It was odd… Li Shuo’s hostility was gone, yet Bai Shuangying remained tense.

“What’s wrong?” Fang Xiu tugged at a lock of Bai Shuangying’s hair.

“…Nothing. Just eat,” Bai Shuangying said in a low voice.

Maybe Bai Shuangying simply found Li Shuo off-putting. A fierce ghost’s mind is unfathomable. Fang Xiu decided he should soothe his ghost somehow.

He dropped his gaze to Lao Jin at his feet.

Under the table.

Lao Jin’s limbs were all broken, and part of one leg was gone. He lay on the ground like a dog, struggling to breathe.

Seeing Fang Xiu keep chatting with Li Shuo, Lao Jin wisely stayed quiet, trying to minimize his presence.

As expected. The worst Fang Xiu had done so far was use him as bait for evil spirits: just little scuffles that one could grit one’s teeth and endure.

Now, listening to the real story of this E, Lao Jin only felt annoyed. Cops are so stubborn. While alive, they kept messing with him, and now even dead they were causing trouble.

But it didn’t matter. All the evil spirits had been wiped out. By tomorrow at 11:45 a.m., Fang Xiu would destroy the E.

He just had to hold on…

“Oh, right.” Fang Xiu spoke slowly. “Later tonight during the Blood Night, I have to go look after my companions. There’s still time before tomorrow at 11:45. Want me to hand him over so you can have some fun?”

He smiled, pointing at Lao Jin.

Li Shuo seemed disinterested. “Fun or not fun, it doesn’t matter. I’ve killed plenty of drug dealers…”

“Luo Jincheng, fifty years old, from Yin Province. He’s a major drug lord in Gui Province, known as ‘Boss Jin’. He’s run amok in Anhe City for fourteen years. Indirectly, he’s killed hundreds, including anti-drug police.”

“He’s the hardest type to deal with: he only lets his underlings do the dirty work while he hides in the shadows. Since mortal law needs evidence, the police usually only catch his henchmen. Even if they suspect him, it’s difficult to find conclusive proof.”

Hearing “Anhe City in Gui Province”, Li Shuo’s eyelids lifted, and his brow furrowed slightly.

Fang Xiu spoke softly, “Among his subordinates, the most infamous was someone called ‘Er Gui.’”

“…Ha, well isn’t that a coincidence!” Li Shuo suddenly gave a loud laugh. “I changed my mind. Hand him over… I’ll have some fun.”

He bared his teeth at Fang Xiu. “But don’t think I don’t know your plan. You want me to torture him so he’ll release your companions.”

Fang Xiu was forthright, tossing the demon-revealing mirror to Li Shuo. “Yes. If you can make him free them, great; if not, whatever. Do what you want.”

“Leave him to me.”

Li Shuo smiled even more brightly.

Then he lowered his head, staring at Lao Jin without blinking. As he watched, part of Li Shuo’s skull on one side caved in, and the whites of his eyes gradually turned blood-red. His intact skin cracked into gaping wounds, looking gruesome as if he’d broken some taboo.

In just a few seconds, Li Shuo revealed his ghostly form right there.

Yin energy billowed around them, and Guan He closed his eyes in fear. Lao Jin froze, not daring to speak. Who could say what grudge this ghost might hold against him?

“Oh, by the way,” Fang Xiu added somewhat awkwardly, “if you accidentally kill him, save his soul for me, would you? I’d like to give my ghost a little snack…”

“No need,” Bai Shuangying suddenly said, still staring at Li Shuo.

Fang Xiu tensed. “?”

Shit, why did his ghost suddenly not want a meal?!

“Judging by your expression, you have some personal history with him. I’d rather not fight someone else for table scraps. Let’s just leave it at that.” Bai Shuangying glanced at Fang Xiu and added calmly.

Li Shuo looked surprised but soon smiled. “Thanks.”

After that, no one brought up the photo. They simply chatted about everything under the sun, from popular TV shows to recent news.

The barbecue stall became the liveliest spot on that street. The police officer’s features were distinct among the many faceless figures, and compared to the illusory crowds everywhere, he seemed more like one of Fang Xiu’s crew.

He sat beside Li Shuo, smiling silently, like a particularly quiet friend.

……

At six the next morning, in front of the arch.

The survivors gathered beneath it. Fang Xiu stood with Bai Shuangying and Guan He on either side, Cheng Songyun and Mei Lan behind.

Things were busier around Li Shuo. He had brought a chair over and placed his police-officer big brother in it.

Next to that chair lay a lump of unrecognizable flesh, its features and limbs too mangled to see. It quivered weakly, barely drawing breath. The sight was so gory that Cheng Songyun kept trying to cover Guan He’s eyes.

“You didn’t kill him?” Fang Xiu guessed the lump was Lao Jin.

No wonder he was a half-step ghost immortal. Li Shuo’s methods of torture were indeed a cut above.

“I’ll kill him when we burn the photo. I want to take his corpse out with me.”

Li Shuo tossed the demon-revealing mirror back to Fang Xiu. “I got what you wanted out of him. Once he stops breathing, the spell breaks automatically.”

Catching the blood-smeared bronze mirror, Fang Xiu let out a low hiss. “Impressive.”

“Alright, hurry it up. Don’t dawdle.” Li Shuo waved him on. “Once we’re out of here, I’ll tell you about my obsession.”

Fang Xiu froze momentarily and pressed his lips together.

Fwoosh.

The lighter sparked to life. The flame instantly caught the archway, and tongues of fire raced up the pillars, illuminating the policeman’s illusory face.

The moment it ignited, a sudden change occurred.

With a shrill screech, Li Shuo’s ghost form abruptly manifested, both eyes turning pitch black.

He lunged straight at Fang Xiu. Meanwhile, the flames from the arch condensed into clusters of fire, firing like bullets at everyone else.

All of this happened in a split second.

Because Fang Xiu had prepared, Guan He instantly used the Five-Ghost Relocation to snatch the lighter. Yet Bai Shuangying didn’t follow the plan to cover for him. Instead, he stood in front of Fang Xiu.

In the next moment, Bai Shuangying and Li Shuo both vanished on the spot.

They were hidden.

“All things in this world have their destined order. When was it ever right to manipulate someone’s mind and force them into immortality…? Over the years, the Underworld has grown more and more pitiful.”

With his left hand, Bai Shuangying easily immobilized Li Shuo. Then with two fingers of his right hand pressed together, he made a faint, slicing motion.

---

The author has something to say:

Next chapter, we’ll finally uncover the story of the “E”. 

Their reactions: 

Xiao Fang: “Move here, then here, then here. Watch me checkmate you in five moves!” 

Xiao Bai: *smashes the chessboard with a single punch.*

---

<<< || Table of Contents || >>>

Author: 年终 / Nian Zhong

Translator: Kinky || https://kinkytranslations.com/

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Chapter 39: Mid-Autumn Memento

Nightfall. A gaunt figure staggered ahead.

It stood over two meters tall, wearing a tattered straw raincoat from centuries past. This evil spirit had hair and beard of pure white, and its face contained only a single deep black hole.

Amid the faceless crowd, it slowly turned its neck, selecting its prey…

A human, bound and lying on the ground.

That human was covered in wounds: one leg broken, the other missing a chunk from the calf. He seemed to have given up. He lay there barely breathing, the smell of fresh blood especially tantalizing. The straw-raincoat evil spirit knew that if it killed this man, it wouldn’t have to suffer weakness tomorrow.

The evil spirit concealed its presence, arching its back like an inchworm. Suddenly, it sprang toward its vulnerable prey.

Whoosh!

Right when it pounced, a rope from the darkness yanked, making the man vanish in an instant.

Simultaneously, a giant green serpent shot out from the crowd on the opposite side. The two evil spirits collided head-on with a dull thud.

The straw-raincoat evil spirit tried to back off, but the huge serpent instantly flew into a road-rage fury. Hissing and flicking its tongue, it coiled around its opponent. The straw-raincoat evil spirit thrust its head forward. From the black hole in its face, it spewed icy white vapor, flash-freezing part of the serpent’s body.

In a flash, their unlucky “traffic accident” became a life-or-death battle. The giant serpent constricted the straw-raincoat evil spirit; the evil spirit, in turn, tore at the frost-cracked serpent skin. Freezing mist billowed, a layer of frost formed on the ground, and chips of ice and black blood scattered in all directions.

Some ten paces away, Fang Xiu watched the spectacle with delight. “Tear it good! Tear it louder!”

Bai Shuangying: “……”

When he first devised his concealment skill, it was purely to avoid the world whenever he was out of sorts.

After staying with Fang Xiu for less than ten days, he had witnessed a hundred-plus unscrupulous uses for “concealment”.

What other absurd tricks would this human come up with? Bai Shuangying couldn’t help feeling a twinge of anticipation.

But this was already the last pair of evil spirits on the pedestrian street.

Just as Bai Shuangying found mouth-to-mouth contact baffling, evil spirits likewise couldn’t grasp it. If their “faces” collided, they wouldn’t head to the bridal chamber. They’d start a bloody brawl instead.

Lao Jin had done a fine job as their “Underworld apple”, successfully sending two pairs of powerful evil spirits to the Yellow Springs.

Behind them, Guan He hesitated. “Fang Ge, shouldn’t we keep a few evil spirits alive just in case? If time runs short…”

Right after driving a wedge between the humans, Fang Xiu turned around and incited the evil spirits, highlighting a strategy of wiping out both man and ghost alike. It was enough to make him feel a bit unsettled watching it all.

Fang Xiu: “Don’t worry. The ‘E’ here isn’t hard to break.”

Guan He’s eyes lit up. “I get it, you’re sticking around now so you can rescue Blondie and the rest!”

He’d known all along Fang Xiu was actually from the authorities. He said he wouldn’t save everyone, but deep down he was still softhearted.

Now it was Fang Xiu’s turn to hesitate. He glanced at Guan He helplessly. “If that’s what you think…then sure.”

Time ticked by. The two evil spirits in front were weakening.

They were evenly matched and had fought each other into serious injuries. By now, neither wanted to abandon its “sunk cost”, so they continued trading blows in a back-and-forth manner.

Fang Xiu handed Lao Jin’s leash over to Guan He and went to finish things up. He grabbed a can of some drink, holding it like a brick, and walked straight toward the straw-raincoat evil spirit.

Bai Shuangying stood up as well.

Bored to the tips of his hair, he decided to be a good friend and help Fang Xiu kill the other evil spirit.

But just as Bai Shuangying was about to follow, Fang Xiu pressed a hand to his chest.

“They’re mine. Don’t interfere,” Fang Xiu said earnestly.

Bai Shuangying looked at Fang Xiu’s slender arms, his expression full of confusion. Fang Xiu, as though provoked, flexed his arm. “Don’t be fooled by how I look. I have muscles!”

Bai Shuangying spared him no dignity. “Guan He has an easier time dragging Lao Jin than you would with anything else.”

Fang Xiu pretended not to hear, brandishing his canned-drink bludgeon. “Anyway, stay out of this. Watch me show what a real tough guy looks like…”

With no choice, Bai Shuangying stayed put, watching Fang Xiu use an aluminum can to subdue demons.

Pity those two powerful evil spirits, pinned down one at a time by that human who kept bashing their heads. They had no words for such misery.

Rather than the fisherman benefiting from the clam and snipe’s battle*, it looked more like the fisherman was entering a melee and the clam was there to pick up scraps. At least a clam had a shell; Fang Xiu was all soft flesh.

*Idiom referring to while the main parties are engaged in their dispute, a cunning third party can seize the opportunity to gain an advantage or profit. It derives from a fable, which you can read in my Kinky Thoughts.

…Come to think of it, the previous four powerful evil spirits had also been killed by Fang Xiu.

Each time, he charged in excitedly and hammered away for ages, illustrating the principle of “water dripping through stone, rope sawing through wood*”.

*Proverb referring to as long as one persists, one can accomplish difficult things even with little power. 

No matter how gravely wounded the evil spirits were, Fang Xiu couldn’t finish them in one blow. The murder process was unclear as to whether it was a finishing stroke or an extended interrogation. After seeing it repeated, Bai Shuangying felt tired, like watching a baby beast gnaw on meat too tough to chew.

Half-Mountain watched from not too far away, though who knew what feelings that half-step ghost immortal was harboring.

……

In the end, aside from Half-Mountain, there were no evil spirits left on the pedestrian street.

Fang Xiu didn’t immediately go after Half-Mountain.

He plopped onto the ledge of a flowerbed and, while sipping his drink, asked casually, “Xiao Guan, about that accident with your brother. Would you mind telling me the details?”

His voice was very clear, not drowned out by the street’s lively music.

The relief on Guan He’s face faded. He pressed his lips together, his expression turning a bit gloomy.

“I don’t mind,” he whispered.

Guan He was from Fengzhou City in Gui Province, not far from Taiyi City where Fang Xiu lived.

When Guan He was six, his father died in a car accident. At that time, his mother was pregnant with his little brother, and the family’s living conditions drastically deteriorated.

The accident that took his brother happened on Guan He’s eleventh birthday.

His mother had been so busy with work the previous year that she forgot Guan He’s birthday. This year, by late evening, she still hadn’t come home. Guan He got upset and took his brother to “run away from home”.

It was barely a protest. His little brother was too young, and he planned to return home soon.

By then it was late. On the street, someone was selling shiny balloons and string lights. His little brother couldn’t tear his eyes away and demanded they buy one. Guan He saw the balloon seller packing up; since there were no cars around, he led his brother through the red light.

Guan He took big steps, his little brother holding onto his hand and lagging half a step behind.

The speeding car that caused the accident struck in a flash. The moment his little brother vanished from sight, Guan He only felt his hand go suddenly empty, without even time to react.

Once again, a car accident destroyed Guan He’s family.

His mother continued to work around the clock, and with his little brother gone, Guan He moved into a dorm.

She would still support him financially, paying for his schooling, but from that day on, aside from simple greetings at the New Year, mother and son almost never spoke.

This included the Mid-Autumn Festival, especially the Mid-Autumn Festival.

Guan He believed his mom must hate him.

He didn’t know how to get along with her, and she had no idea how to face him. The days blurred by for five years, until now: at sixteen, Guan He was dragged into the Disaster Relief Tower.

Fang Xiu listened with his head tilted. “Did you deliberately lead your brother through the red light?”

“What?” Guan He was too stunned to parse that question.

“Your life became a mess after your brother was born. You had to take extra care of him; your mom obviously focused more on your little brother… When you took him across on a red light, did you secretly hope he’d disappear?”

Guan He’s breathing became rapid with anger. “Of course not!”

“I see. Sorry,” Fang Xiu apologized sincerely. “What about the drug dealer driving that car? Do you remember his name?”

“Du Baocai,” Guan He said immediately. “He was shot to death.”

Fang Xiu’s eyebrows twitched.

He hadn’t heard the name before, but the surname was interesting.

Guan He was still upset; mindful of Fang Xiu’s position, he held back. “I loved my brother. I never wanted him gone. Mom wasn’t around, so we basically depended on each other.”

He took a deep breath, trying not to let his voice tremble.

“Why would I hate him? He was only four. He didn’t know anything… If anything, he should hate me…”

“It’s retribution,” he couldn’t help murmuring. “Me ending up here… It must be my karmic punishment…”

“That can’t be. Your sin isn’t that big,”

Fang Xiu patted his back. “I can only say the way ‘sacrifices’ are chosen has flaws.”

“The way sacrifices are chosen?” Guan He looked up.

“Right. Look at the kinds of people we’ve run into. It can’t be a coincidence. The Underworld clearly has a set of criteria.”

Fang Xiu nudged Lao Jin with his toe. “At first, I thought the standard was ‘a debt of human lives’.”

“…Isn’t it?” Guan He asked, head drooping again.

“Think about it: plenty of heroes have killed. If the Underworld grabbed living war heroes for sacrifice, the Yin and Yang sides would be a war.”

“But so far, the mortal side is simply turning a blind eye. The real threshold must be stricter, like having a blood debt yet lacking any measure of virtue.”

Blood debt, no virtue.

Such a filter would catch those who harmed others for selfish reasons, as well as the culprits of accidental manslaughter.

Taking the latter also made some sense…

Some people dropped objects from high-rise buildings, killing passersby; some drove drunk, causing an accident that killed others; arrogant parents would drag their children to dangerous places, putting them into harm’s way; some spread malicious rumors to the point of driving others to suicide.

Though they didn’t necessarily have murderous intent, mortal law wouldn’t treat them as murderers. Yet in terms of karmic retribution, claiming their hands were clean wouldn’t ring true.

In the end, the “E” required living humans to solve. From the mortal perspective, these people were the “most cost-effective price”.

So-called “disaster relief sacrifices” were likely a compromise between the two realms.

But in a world with countless blood debts, it was impossible for each selection of sacrifices to undergo a joint investigation. So people like Guan He ended up as tragic misjudgments in this system.

Guan He listened quietly, showing little reaction, calmly accepting reality.

Perhaps because he’d been tormented by guilt for so long, he didn’t feel especially wronged.

Fang Xiu patted his shoulder and finished off his drink.

“…So even in such a case, can you accept it? That this kid deserves to die here?”

Fang Xiu tossed the can into a trash bin, then abruptly raised his voice. “You’ve been eavesdropping all along, haven’t you, oh ‘Almost-Ghost-Immortal’?”

Bai Shuangying instinctively looked toward Half-Mountain’s location. Fang Xiu glanced at his ghost and likewise shifted his stance.

But under the bright moon and amid the bustling street, there was no response anywhere.

“I just want to have a face-to-face conversation.”

Fang Xiu sighed. “I can break the E at any time, but I’d rather not leave without a word.”

“You should know that once I break it, the Underworld will protect us unconditionally. Then there’ll be nothing you can do… I don’t think you want that to be your ending.”

Half-Mountain remained hidden, silent.

Bai Shuangying prodded Fang Xiu. “Saying empty words is pointless. You really think Half-Mountain would trust you after watching you all this time?”

Fang Xiu: “……” What do you mean, be clearer! 

But when Bai Shuangying put it that way, Fang Xiu realized he indeed had no good retort.

After a long pause, Fang Xiu rubbed his face in frustration and quietly muttered, “Fine…”

He truly didn’t seem inclined to fight. Snark aside, Bai Shuangying was curious how this would unfold.

But just in case, he stood silently behind Fang Xiu, ready to grab him if the situation turned sour.

All Fang Xiu did was step on the bloody mess that was Lao Jin, taking out Lao Jin’s gold-plated lighter.

Click.

Flame flared up, and once again, tiny fireballs danced. However, Fang Xiu had just finished killing evil spirits and was covered in sweat, lessening the burn somewhat.

Fang Xiu stared at the dancing flame, not extinguishing it.

“If heartfelt words won’t work, I’ll show you reason.”

He took a deep breath. “The E’s taboos are absolute; violating them triggers an immediate effect. But this ‘fire taboo’ is different. From the moment of ignition to the appearance of the fireballs, there’s a slight delay.”

“This isn’t a taboo at all. This is a spell you used to mislead us, isn’t it?”

With that, he smiled.

“Clever tactic. After all, if someone uncovered the ‘third’—actually, the real ‘first’—taboo, it’d be easy to guess the E’s true form.”

“Too bad I already know what that first taboo is. Your emphasis on forbidding open flame just reaffirms my suspicion.”

Sizzle-sizzle, the fireballs continued to sear Fang Xiu’s skin. The lighter grew hot, yet he kept it lit.

Listening to Fang Xiu talking to thin air, Guan He grew confused. “What do you mean, the real first taboo…? Isn’t it ‘at a quarter to noon, pay one life’?”

Fang Xiu: “Before each ritual starts, floor two’s environment adapts to the location. Xiao Guan, you should recall that.”

“Yes, I remember,” Guan He thought for a couple of seconds.

“This time, floor two took the form of a residential building’s stairwell, with an old-fashioned door at the entrance. But there’s no connection here at all to a pedestrian street.”

“When we entered the ritual, there was that bizarre spinning, that strange freezing phenomenon. It’s more likely that we’ve been moved away from the real scene by the E, trapped in some separate dimension rather than the Underworld messing up the theme.”

Fang Xiu’s gentle, clear voice carried far.

“What’s more interesting is that while an E normally draws all sorts of evil spirits, the ones here are all vicious and bloodthirsty, like they’ve been hand-picked. Meanwhile, we ’sinners’ were carefully selected by the Underworld. We’re basically half evil spirits ourselves, in that our souls are bound to magic weapons.”

“The E locked us in here happily. I think the real first taboo is, ‘Any evil spirit bearing a blood debt cannot leave’.”

“Add the ‘at a quarter to noon, pay one life’ clause, and you’ve got a perfect execution chamber. Dangerous individuals forced to kill each other, leaving no survivors.”

He paused, looking genuinely impressed.

“…Fascinating, right? Good news: this E protects the innocent. Bad news: it’s protecting the innocent from ‘us’.”

Guan He panicked. “Are you sure this is a separate dimension? If we’re trapped, how do we find the E?”

“Xiao Guan, think. Besides an illusion, what else does this street resemble?”

His voice rose, as if directed at the still-hidden Half-Mountain.

Guan He swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts:

“This place is small, its boundaries weird. That’s already unlike our previous ritual.”

“The sky never changes. It’s always a full moon, always the Mid-Autumn Festival.”

“The food and drinks here have no taste. The passersby are just silhouettes, repeating the same actions.”

Fang Xiu wiggled the lighter. “Yes, and I’ll add another point. When night falls, the scene outside freezes entirely, and a giant face stares down from above. If it sees you, you die.”

An unending Mid-Autumn Festival night, a world that could freeze at a moment’s notice, a giant face peering from the sky, and all that emphasis on “no fire”…

Wait, could this place be…?

Guan He stared blankly at Fang Xiu.

In Fang Xiu’s hand, the lighter still burned quietly.

At some point, those small fireballs had ceased scalding him. They bobbed around him like tiny fireflies.

As if hearing Guan He’s thoughts, Fang Xiu continued calmly…

“A ‘dimension’ this realistic can’t appear out of thin air. I suspect we’ve been locked inside a photograph since the start of this ritual.”

“On the other hand, the E’s rules all hinge on this place. So I suspect that this Mid-Autumn Festival photo is itself the ‘E’.”

At Fang Xiu’s feet, Lao Jin let out a weak groan.

Guan He’s face changed gradually. “But… the people on the street have no faces…”

“That’s the real clue, which Lao Jin probably knows even better. There is a certain group of people who want to protect the innocent, aware that showing your face in a photo could cost your life.”

…How to sensibly destroy a photo?

…Simple: you burn it.

Fang Xiu raised the lighter in a gesture like making a toast. “Mr. Almost-Ghost-Immortal, you’re also trapped here, yet you’re so in sync with the E… Could it be that when you were alive, you were some sort of informant?”

“Haa.”

At last, a sigh echoed, and a figure materialized under the moonlight.

Bai Shuangying narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on Fang Xiu’s shoulder. Fang Xiu reassured him with a gentle squeeze of his sleeve, then turned to the newcomer.

Half-Mountain looked entirely human, except his face, unlike the faceless passersby, had normal, distinct features.

He appeared young, at most in his early twenties, short and rather plain, with a kind of rough, slouchy thug-like posture.

“I’m no informant. Not that selfless,”

Half-Mountain played absently with an unlit cigarette, giving Lao Jin a pointed glance and grinning.

“To use the words of that pretentious guy… How did it go? I’m just another loser at the bottom…”

“…I just happened to make a pretty good friend.”

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Kinky Thoughts:

The Sandpiper (Snipe) and the Clam

One day, taking advantage of the sunny weather, a clam opened up its hard shell to bask in the sun on the banks of the river. A sandpiper saw it and quickly put its beak into the clam shell to peck at the meat inside. The calm hurriedly closed its hard shell and sealed the sandpiper’s mouth shut. The sandpiper couldn’t peck at the meat, and its mouth was sealed shut, so it threatened the clam and said, “If you don’t loosen your clamp on me, you will eventually die of thirst.” The clam responded without showing weakness, “Your mouth has been clamped by me. If you can’t pull it free, you’ll starve to death!” In this way, the clam and sandpiper fought each other on the beach, and neither would relent. Over time, they became exhausted. A fisherman happened to pass by, and when he saw that they were tightly entangled and neither could move, he easily caught them and took them both home.”

This story was told during the Warring States Period, when the Qin Empire was strongest. On one occasion, the Empire of Zhao declared war on the State of Yan. At the time, the king’s younger brother, Su Dai, was entrusted to go to the Empire of Zhao to persuade the King of Zhao not to send troops. When he arrived, the King of Zhao demanded what he was doing here, to which he told the fable.

After finishing, Su Dai said to the King of Zhao, “If the Empire of Zhao and the State of Yan go to war, the two sides will inevitably be at a standstill for a long time, eventually becoming exhausted. In this way, the mighty Qin Empire will be like the fisherman, who just needs to sit back and reap the benefits. Your Majesty, please consider it carefully before making a decision.” The King of Zhao felt that what Su Dai said was reasonable and dispelled the idea of attacking the State of Yan.

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