When Joshua awoke again, he found himself lying in a transparent incubation tank, surrounded by a pale red liquid, with mechanical arms firmly holding him in place, rendering him immobile. Through the liquid, he saw that he seemed to be inside a laboratory filled with odd instruments. A white figure moved among the devices, continuously entering data into a computer.
Joshua tried to move but confirmed he couldn’t break free. However, his movement caught the attention of the white figure.
“You’re awake?” The voice that came through the tank and liquid had a strange tone, and then Joshua recognized that the white figure was Kester.
“What is this place?” Joshua asked urgently. “Why am I tied up here? What are you going to do?”
“Stop yelling, I’m starting the cryogenic sleep program.” Kester continued to manipulate the strange instruments. “This is the ‘Boccaccio’ spacecraft, originally prepared for myself…” he said, laughing dryly. “Though I knew I’d never need it, I still harbored the vain hope that I might escape on it when the end comes.”
Joshua didn’t understand a word he said.
“It’s now impossible to make the ‘Dante’ return, so I’m having you leave on this one,” Kester continued. “Its speed isn’t as fast as the ‘Dante’, but it won’t be too slow either. You might arrive at the colony a couple of hundred years after Giorgione and the others…”
“I’m not going anywhere!” Joshua shouted, his agitation causing the liquid around him to ripple. “I want to stay on Earth! I want to be with you!”
Kester turned around and approached the tank. “Stop being foolish, Joshua.” His brows were furrowed, and his tone was stern. “You have no idea what those of us who remain will face. I don’t want you to head toward a hopeless future with us.” Placing a hand on the glass, he said, “You are young. You have a long journey ahead. You will meet many people, experience many things… You might even find someone you love and spend a long life with them—but it won’t be here, not on Earth.”
He withdrew his hand and stepped back. “This is farewell, my brother. We share the same blood, so live on for both of us.”
He turned back to his instruments. One by one, the lights overhead went out, until only a solitary light shone on Kester. The cryogenic sleep program had been initiated, and once Joshua fell asleep, the Boccaccio would rise and fly towards the boundless space with the last remnants of Earth.
Then, the last light went out. Joshua’s world plunged into darkness.
After that, Joshua’s memories weren’t very clear. During the long space voyage, he was mostly in a state of sleep, not even dreaming, as the low temperatures stopped all brain cell activity. However, to prevent damage from prolonged cryosleep, the system periodically woke him. Each time, a mechanical female voice would recite the distance the spacecraft had traveled, and the time spent.
The first time he woke, the mechanical voice told him that two hundred thirty years had passed in the outside world, but for the spacecraft and its sole passenger, only a little over a month had passed. Just that fact was enough to drive Joshua to despair. While he slept, so much time had passed on the planet he could never return to, and Kester might have long since died. He couldn’t accept this reality. Desperate, he struggled to break free and command the spacecraft to return, but the mechanical arms still held him firmly. The mechanical voice informed him that his restraints would never be released unless the spacecraft landed.
Thus, the times he was awake became an eternal torment for Joshua. He could only stare into the nothingness of darkness, trying to recall the bright and joyful memories of his childhood. He sifted through old memories like a neurotic old man flipping through an old photo album, over and over again. Initially, those warm and beautiful memories made him sad and hurt, but after revisiting them too many times, the memories lost their warmth and became pale and tedious, haunting him like persistent ghosts or like ghastly hands dragging him into an inescapable mire.
The most detestable were the memories involving Kester. In the darkness, Joshua cursed his heartless and cruel brother time and again for putting him in this horrifying situation. Yet, he also missed Kester desperately, longing for his gentle smile and warm hands, his clear voice and bright eyes. In his lucid dreams, Joshua couldn’t tell whether he was still on Earth or adrift in space. Ultimately, waking became a nightmare, and the cryogenic sleep turned into his salvation.
He oscillated between heaven and hell so many times that he became numb, living like a zombie in the pallor of memories and the darkness of reality. Just when he thought this deepest torture would never end, the spacecraft landed.
At this point, only about a year had passed for him, but nearly two thousand years had elapsed in the outside world. The spacecraft landed on a planet called Benjamin, approximately in the outskirts of a city, an area filled with ancient ruins and overgrown with weeds and rubbish.
For the first time, the mechanical arms released him. The pale red cryogenic fluid drained away, the incubation tank opened, and the lights around him lit up. Joshua stepped out of the spacecraft, standing on the edge of the ruins, with a skewed black city visible in the distance, obscured by haze and smoke. After a long nightmare, he breathed air for the first time—though it was different from Earth’s—tainted, with a faintly sweet and fetid smell, like a mixture of blood and decay.
At that moment, Joshua truly felt bewildered. Kester had wanted him to go to the colony, to the future, but now that he was really there, what was he supposed to do? Joshua had no money (if currency was still used in this future world), and he couldn’t communicate with the locals (clearly, human language had evolved significantly over two thousand years). He had extensive medical knowledge but no idea how to use it to make a living. Kester hadn’t considered these things, and the spacecraft’s mechanical female voice certainly wouldn’t think about them, so Joshua had to figure out how to survive on his own.
At first, he struggled greatly, walking through the unfamiliar city. His ears were filled with alien languages, and surrounded by many machines he neither understood nor could operate. The city was like a collapsing mechanical giant, vast and complex, with crisscrossed streets and alleys that looked like tangled blood vessels, and what flowed within was undoubtedly dying, filthy blood. Fear told Joshua that he needed to learn to protect himself, especially on this hostile planet.
On his third day in this strange world, he managed to get a job washing dishes in a rundown restaurant by using gestures. Due to a lack of staff, he sometimes had to serve tables. The pay was low, barely enough to cover his daily expenses according to galactic standards. Joshua knew that earning money wasn’t his top priority; his main goal was to familiarize himself with this future world. He quickly learned the local language, although filled with slang and grammatical errors, it was undoubtedly the lingua franca of the colony. Language was the first step to integrating into society, Joshua reminded himself.
After mastering the language, he started to subtly inquire about the colony’s current state from his boss, colleagues, and customers. The restaurant’s patrons were mostly thugs and occasionally prostitutes and drug dealers looking for clients. They never discussed national affairs, endlessly babbling about which girl was hottest and how to deal with a certain ruffian in the neighboring block. Joshua realized that continuing to stay there was no longer beneficial for him. He planned to leave this isolated place for somewhere more connected to the outside world. If Kester was right, Giorgione and the others had already arrived at the colony, and he needed to find a way to contact them or at least locate their descendants.
First, he needed a significant amount of money. The restaurant’s wages weren’t enough to cover the costs of traveling, and he couldn’t risk using the spaceship parked on the outskirts (he definitely didn’t want to be labeled as an “ancient person from two thousand years ago” and end up in a museum). Soon, he found an opportunity to earn money.
He was taking the restaurant’s trash to the bins in the back alley when a man dressed in black suddenly appeared beside him. The man wore sunglasses and had his collar pulled up high, covering most of his face. The exposed skin was unnaturally pale.
“Hey, kid.” The man’s voice was hoarse and hissing, like a hissing viper. “Want to make some money?”
Following the route provided by Leo, Joshua successfully avoided the ship’s crew and reached the preparation chamber where the sky shuttles were stored. The Dante carried many items, essentially everything that could be taken from Earth—from plant specimens and animal genetic maps to electronic versions of hundreds of millions of books. This turned the small spacecraft into a floating Noah’s Ark in space, carrying the last of humanity in search of a new home.
The preparation chamber housed numerous aircraft and sky shuttle models, all scaled down to original proportions so that they could be replicated upon arrival at the colony. As for the sky shuttles, these smaller items were brought aboard directly—fortunately, they had decided to do so.
Joshua picked up a sky shuttle and, following Leo’s instructions, ran to the ship’s lower pressure chamber, where Leo would open a door for him. Along the way, the AI kept urging him, “Hurry! Once the ship starts accelerating, you won’t have another chance! You’ll either be squashed into a pulp by the acceleration or thrown into space and explode!”
His threats were highly effective. Joshua ran faster than he ever had in his life, even more so than during the long-distance races at school. If he had had metal braces on his legs, he could have starred in a movie. Once inside the pressure chamber, he felt breathless—not from overexertion, but because the air in the pressure chamber had indeed been significantly reduced.
“This is for your own good,” Leo explained. “This is the air pressure you’d find at four thousand meters altitude. If I didn’t do this, once I opened the chamber door, you would be sucked out and die from altitude sickness…”
“Can you stop with the dying talk?” Joshua complained, frustrated. “Are you that eager to see me dead?”
“In fact, you humans do tend to die quite carelessly,” Leo remarked nonchalantly. “A reminder—you might want to hold onto the railing next to you…” He hadn’t finished his sentence when the pressure chamber door slid open with a hiss. Perhaps the pressure had been reduced too much, as a blast of air rushed in, nearly blowing Joshua back into the corridor. He grabbed the railing with one hand and struggled to activate the gravity grid on the sky shuttle with the other.
“Now at an altitude of 3,573 meters, I’m glad to see you’re still standing,” Leo commented. “Go ahead, Joshua. The next time we meet, it’ll be in space.”
Joshua stepped onto the sky shuttle, feeling the gravity grid securely anchor him to the board. When his peers were still on Earth, they often rode sky shuttles over the forest from the research institute all the way to the beach, filling their pockets with shells and conches before heading home. He was adept at handling the sky shuttle. This time, the altitude was just a bit higher than usual, but he wasn’t scared.
“Goodbye, Leo.” The sky shuttle rose, carrying him slowly towards the exit. “See you in space,” he said, thinking to himself, ‘Farewell. We may never meet again.’ It was only much later, when they did meet again, that Joshua had to admire the foresight of AI and mock his own youthful naivety and arrogance.
He flew out of the depressurization chamber, and the door closed mercilessly behind him. The low air pressure at high altitude was terribly uncomfortable, and he descended quickly. Soon, the Dante turned into a small dark cloud above him, and after a while, it was no bigger than a bird.
The sky shuttle allowed Joshua to descend smoothly. He dared not descend too rapidly for fear his heart couldn’t take it. It took him two hours to get close to the ground, over an unfamiliar forest. The sky shuttle whisked him past the treetops. He pulled up a map on the communication terminal and realized he was over five hundred kilometers away from home. The sky shuttle could reach a top speed of 90 kilometers per hour, and it took Joshua over six hours to wearily make his way back to his front door.
Stepping onto the ground, his legs felt weak as if walking on cotton, each step dizzying. The short distance from the yard to the front door nearly drained all his strength. He had never felt that this path, which he had walked countless times, could be so long. Reaching the door, he almost collapsed. Would Kester be at home? It was more likely that he was at his lab at this hour, but Joshua’s instincts told him Kester was inside the house.
He rang the doorbell.
Seconds later, he heard soft footsteps and Kester’s muffled voice from behind the door. “Who is it?” Kester liked to ask first and then open the door without waiting for an answer, which Joshua had pointed out was dangerous. “What’s the danger? Unless monkeys have learned to knock,” his brother had replied.
The door opened, revealing Kester’s still weary face. Seeing Joshua standing in front of him, Kester didn’t show the confusion or joy the young man had expected but a mix of shock and anger, as if not his brother stood before him but an enemy with deep grievances.
“How dare you… How dare you…” Kester’s lips twitched, his eyes bloodshot. Before Joshua could explain why he was there, Kester raised his hand and struck him across the face.
Joshua was knocked off balance by the slap, nearly falling if he hadn’t grabbed the doorframe. He couldn’t believe Kester had hit him. Although Kester could be serious and had been furious with him when he made mistakes, he had never hit him before…
Then, Kester grabbed him by the collar and dragged him into the house, treating him more like an object than a person. He threw Joshua onto the sofa and then walked upstairs without looking back.
The young man curled up on the sofa, his cheek burning with pain and his body aching from exhaustion, but these were nothing compared to the emotional hurt. He had been so eager to return to his brother’s side, yet Kester had treated him so coldly. Did he hate him now? Did he see his return as bad news? Were the tears shed at their parting all fake?
It was a long time before Kester came back downstairs. He carried a tray with two cups of hot tea on it. He placed the tray on the coffee table in front of the sofa and pushed it gently towards Joshua, indicating for him to drink.
Joshua remained seated without moving.
Kester walked around the coffee table and sat next to him. The young man kept his head down, refusing to look at him.
“Why aren’t you speaking?” Kester asked.
Joshua turned away. His brother forcefully turned his shoulder, gently touching his swollen cheek. The touched spot stung painfully, but Kester’s cool skin was surprisingly comforting.
“Does it still hurt?” his brother asked.
Joshua choked up and nodded.
“I’m not going to apologize,” Kester said. “You brought this upon yourself by being willful. You deserve it, and I’m not going to apologize to you.”
Joshua nodded again, this time tears falling involuntarily. Kester sighed and pulled him into his embrace.
“Giorgione reported to me that you were missing. Do you know how worried I was? You disappeared from the ship… I thought… I thought something had happened to you…” His voice trembled. He neurotically combed Joshua’s hair, then patted his back. “How did you come back?”
“…By sky shuttle,” Joshua whispered.
“Did you fly for a long time?”
The young man curled up in his brother’s arms and murmured affirmatively.
“Stupid kid,” Kester said. “Why did you risk coming back?”
“…I didn’t want to be apart from you.”
Kester released him and kissed the reddened corner of his eye. “You must be exhausted. Have some hot tea and go rest. Luckily, I didn’t clear out your room…” He laughed to himself. “Now I have to contact Giorgione to tell him you’re alright.”
Joshua picked up the cup of tea and took a sip. Perhaps it was the relaxation of his nerves, but he began to feel drowsy. His limbs felt as heavy as if they were filled with lead, and he slumped against Kester’s shoulder. Suddenly realizing this wasn’t just a natural bodily reaction, he suspected Kester had put something in the tea! Then, he lost consciousness.
This pedestrian street was about eight hundred meters long, with matching faux-ancient archways at both ends. None of the shops along the road had more than three floors, which was ordinary.
Faceless people moved slowly up and down the street. Every ten-odd seconds, they returned to their original positions and repeated their actions, like unintelligent NPCs in a video game background.
Those evil spirits, on the other hand, seemed highly intelligent.
A one-eyed bird monster perched on a telephone pole, its huge single eye scanning all around. Fierce ghosts floated in the shadows, while starving ghosts squatted beside the corpses of their own kind, frantically gnawing away. The entire street had practically become a ghost street, haunted by countless shapes of evil.
Fang Xiu couldn’t help muttering to Bai Shuangying, “They’re all showing their faces. Doesn’t that make them less scary? Feels like a horror movie turned into a zombie flick.”
He then began chattering on about zombie movies to Bai Shuangying, who nodded the whole time, quietly enthralled by the idea of zombies roaming en masse.
“End of the street,” Jia Xu said suddenly.
Fang Xiu, who had been deeply engrossed discussing Resident Evil and The Walking Dead, looked up at the sound of Jia Xu’s voice.
Beyond the faux-ancient arch lay nothing but darkness. It didn’t look like some supernatural barrier formed by a ghostly illusion; rather, it had the hollow feel of the world’s edge.
As for whether that darkness could be touched, nobody was eager to risk their life finding out.
Using concealment for cover, Fang Xiu dragged over a dying big-headed ghost from the street. Pressing down on its head, he rammed it straight at the darkness.
The big-headed ghost struck the darkness with a muffled thud, then abruptly bounced back. It was thoroughly finished off by this process.
Fang Xiu hastily looked to Bai Shuangying, who shook his head firmly. Apparently, it wouldn’t taste any good.
Fang Xiu let go in disappointment. “Jia Xu was right. This really is the boundary.”
The others: “……”
They felt they had just learned something best left unlearned.
Blondie thought for a moment, then leaped onto a nearby rooftop. He was back in a few seconds. “Same thing over there—black on both sides. Looks like we’re trapped on this single stretch of road.”
Fang Xiu was a little disappointed. It seemed that for the next few days, they would only be able to wander around this one short street.
Within a few minutes, everyone found an abandoned clothing shop.
It seemed no one was renting it out as inside there were only a few odds and ends. The door was sturdy enough, though the lock had apparently been clawed open by some evil spirit and now merely hung ajar.
Guan He’s little child-ghost slipped in, scouted around, and came back making gestures indicating that things were at least reasonably clean.
Having been through their last ritual, they all understood that “actions without clear meaning” wouldn’t trigger an immediate, lethal taboo. Thus, the group decisively went in and set up a base of operations in the empty shop.
All that remained inside were some cardboard and discarded clothing scraps, far from comfortable. But at least this time, they didn’t have to worry about food and drink.
Blondie held a skewer in his left hand and a beer in his right, plus a big bag of oranges tucked under his arm. “I found these out on the street, picking them up off the ground. It didn’t violate any taboos. I even saw some free samples out there: snacks, all sorts of stuff… They can’t seriously bring back those same shitty taboos from Weishan Village.”
When he finished talking, he took a bite of lamb skewer, chewing noisily. A few seconds later, he loudly spat it out.
Everyone: “……”
Blondie flew into a rage. “Why’s there no flavor at all?!”
Unwilling to give up, he took a swig of the beer, only to look even angrier. “This fucking drink is like not drinking at all!”
Curious, Fang Xiu tried a wedge of orange and immediately understood Blondie’s frustration.
Indeed, the orange had no taste whatsoever. Eating it gave an indescribable sense of emptiness. If a real orange was like a perfectly crispy Peking duck, this was only that starchy “fragrant roast duck” snack sold by school gates, maybe the kind that used to cost just one cent a pack.
The orange juice couldn’t even quench thirst. It vanished the moment it went down.
…These things were purely superficial in appearance, with no real sustenance. Their luck was just that bad: two rituals in a row lacking proper food and water.
Fang Xiu simply poured out the remaining beer on the ground and opened up the Weishan Shrine cafeteria.
After he pulled out two cases of drinks, six roast chickens, and a large bag of apples, everyone stopped complaining that his skill wasn’t useful. They promptly planned out their lunch rations in advance, and Blondie practically wanted to grab Fang Xiu by the shoulders and call him Big Bro on the spot.
Jia Xu exhaled in relief. “Thank goodness we’ve got this trick. Otherwise, the next few days…”
If they didn’t manage to find a place like the Weishan Shrine here, the consequences would be unimaginable.
“This place is too weird,” Jia Xu said with a shudder. “Let’s lay low tonight and head out in the morning.”
Then he took a deep breath, his tone rising with excitement once more. “We’re not short on food this time. As long as we can defend our base, we can take our time searching for the ‘E’. Even if it takes ten days or half a month, we’ll be fine. Next, I’ve got a few ideas…”
“I’m going out,” Fang Xiu interjected decisively.
Jia Xu: “?”
“My ghost can conceal me. I won’t die.” Fang Xiu pocketed a few snacks and stood up.
They had almost no information. All Jia Xu could do was lead a meeting of empty talk. Fang Xiu had no patience for it, so he tugged on Bai Shuangying and left. They had agreed to explore the street together, after all.
The moment they stepped through the door, the cheerful music suddenly became much clearer.
They could easily see both ends of the eight-hundred-meter pedestrian street. If one disregarded the corpses, it looked fairly normal overall.
No over-the-top “internet celebrity” elements, no shoddily assembled tourist attractions. The night sky merged seamlessly with the darkness beyond, and beneath the full moon, fireworks still bloomed nonstop.
Vibrant bursts of light popped again and again, while the LED signs on the storefronts flickered in perpetual motion. Bai Shuangying kept slowing his pace.
Fang Xiu grinned. “Never seen it before?”
“Mm.” Bai Shuangying craned his neck to watch an advertising screen, his pupils lit up by the shifting colors.
“Pedestrian streets are always best at night. It’s perfect for going out with friends!” Fang Xiu patted Bai Shuangying’s back. “Take your time. We’re in no hurry…”
Before he could finish, Fang Xiu’s foot slipped. He urgently grabbed Bai Shuangying’s sleeve, barely managing not to land square on his backside.
He had stepped in a pool of blood, which gave off a pungent, sweet fishy smell. It was clearly human blood.
Beside the puddle lay a severed head.
It belonged to a middle-aged man, half of whose skull had been bitten away by an evil spirit. The remaining half still wore a desperate expression. The human remains around here were tangled with evil remains, making it hard to distinguish them at a glance.
They were from another group of ritual participants.
That man was undeniably dead. His flesh had been devoured by the evil spirits, and not the slightest trace of his living soul remained. There was only half a skull no one had bothered to gnaw on.
Fang Xiu put away his grin and sighed. “Looks like we should take care of serious business first. Let’s count heads together to see how many people have died.”
Bai Shuangying said, “I want to go shopping.”
Counting heads was dull work. He had zero interest in human skulls.
Fang Xiu coaxed him. “We’ll do it fast, so it won’t get in the way.”
Bai Shuangying clicked his tongue softly, then raised his index finger and pressed it lightly against Fang Xiu’s forehead. The air shimmered, and Fang Xiu stared at him, perplexed.
Bai Shuangying: “Now you can conceal yourself on your own. Let’s split up to count. We can meet back here when we’re done.”
They happened to be in the middle of the street, so each could handle one half.
Fang Xiu suppressed a laugh. “Sure, sure. Let’s see who can count faster.”
Though he trusted Bai Shuangying’s concealment, he still couldn’t help saying, “But be careful on the way.”
Before Fang Xiu could finish, Bai Shuangying was already striding off.
Fang Xiu: “…”
He really does want to go shopping, doesn’t he?
So Fang Xiu took off running toward the far end of the street.
There were plenty of nooks and crannies along the way. Fang Xiu searched thoroughly and found a surprising, and somewhat regretful, amount. In just two hundred meters, he discovered over a dozen severed human heads.
Some groups had died all in one place, never even managing to flee. Stranger still, there were only piles of bones and scattered flesh at those scenes, with hardly any broken magic weapons.
…It was like these were total newcomers experiencing their first ritual.
All the bodies he came across looked like novices. Thinking it over, his own team had only started its second ritual, so technically they weren’t very experienced either.
…What was going on? Could it be that this ritual only chose newbies?
…If even drinking water was an issue, what was the Underworld thinking by sending a swarm of novices here?
Still, Fang Xiu got at least one positive outcome: he found several shops he could visit later with Bai Shuangying, one of which had a very attractive vase.
……
Bai Shuangying strolled the other side of the street.
With Fang Xiu absent, it was a good chance to test his power. One of the chains binding him had broken, so he had a bit more freedom over karmic energies.
He was still suppressed and couldn’t see the living karma of mortals, but a person’s death was like a lamp gone out, their causal lines dissolving largely. Such a degree of change was something he could sense now.
On his side of the street, twenty-eight people had died.
“Help… help me…” a faint, raspy cry reached Bai Shuangying’s ears.
He stopped and looked toward the source of the sound.
A chubby man was curled up in a corner of the street, shaking like a leaf. His pants were soaked with urine.
Blocking him was a centipede with a human head. The creature’s face lacked a lower jaw, replaced by insect-like mouthparts. Its eyes curved merrily as it clicked and clacked, toying with its prey as though savoring the moment.
The man was terrified to the point of madness, yet didn’t dare call out too loudly. All he could do was whimper.
Bai Shuangying watched for a while, then calmly released his concealment and revealed himself.
In the neon-lit street, his simple white attire made him stand out all the more. When the man saw him, the man’s eyes lit up. Amid a horde of twisted evil creatures, Bai Shuangying seemed like an immortal descending from on high.
“Help me, Immortal, please help!”
His voice abruptly rose. “I’ll do anything, anything you want!”
Bai Shuangying smiled.
He curved his lips without hiding the malice in his grin. “What is it you want from me?”
His voice was soft and gentle, calm as moonlight.
Seeing that smile, the man instinctively shrank back, but he had no time to think further. “Help me. Get rid of that thing! Once I get out of here, I’ll make offerings to you for the rest of my life!”
“What if I want human lives?” Bai Shuangying asked.
“That’s fine, as many as you want!” the fat man shrieked.
His voice grew louder, prompting the centipede to thrust its mouthparts even closer to his face. “Just get rid of it, hurry…”
Swish.
It was like snipping off a flower. In an instant, the centipede’s head was severed. The headless body flopped to the ground, oozing thick fluid from the ragged stump.
The fat man breathed out a sigh of relief as he wiped away his cold sweat from his forehead.
“Shit, shit, shit,” he cursed breathlessly, struggling to stand. “This damned place…this damned place…”
He noticed that the other evil spirits on the street were deliberately veering away from this corner, as if they couldn’t see him. Only Bai Shuangying stood a single step away, regarding him at leisure.
“Thank you, Great Immortal!”
The fat man immediately straightened up, bowing respectfully. “How many lives do you need? Any preference for gender or age? When I get out of here…”
Bai Shuangying didn’t answer. Still smiling, he reached out and grasped the top of the man’s head.
In the next instant, the man’s body dissolved.
His flesh and blood melted away from his bones, dripping like molten wax. His heart gradually deformed, and when it landed, it was still beating.
His pair of eyes blinked within the flowing meat, looking up at this “white-clothed immortal” and the immaculately clean skull in his hand; the skull that had once belonged to him.
“You got what you wished for, and I’ve claimed my offering.”
Bai Shuangying opened his fingers. The skull clattered onto the mound of flesh, splattering blood in all directions. Leaning down, he gazed at the pair of eyes, still smiling.
“…One human life received.”
The fat man wanted to scream again, but he no longer had a tongue. He could feel the spell on him rapidly fading. The pulpy flesh all over the ground was reverting to a solid state, which wasm, unfortunately, not a condition compatible with staying alive.
A few seconds later, the grotesque heart stopped beating.
Bai Shuangying seized the man’s newly freed living soul. After a moment’s thought, he flattened it like a small pancake and placed it into his mouth.
Having finished his snack, Bai Shuangying started strolling back. He took only a couple of steps before turning around.
He rummaged through the fat man’s remains and dug out a whistle magic weapon, deciding to bring it back for Fang Xiu.
……
When Bai Shuangying returned to the middle of the street, Fang Xiu was there waiting.
“I found twenty-three dead people on my side. What about yours?” his human friend asked.
At that very moment, a burst of crimson fireworks lit the sky, and under its glow, Bai Shuangying’s lips curled upward slightly.
“Twenty-nine,” he said. “My side had twenty-nine dead.”
Fang Xiu scratched his head. “So that’s fifty-two in total? That’s a lot.”
Last time, during the Weishan Village ritual, only four teams—fourteen people—had shown up at the start. This time, the map was actually smaller, but the number of participants had gone way up.
So counting his own group, that meant there were at least eight teams for this ritual. As for how many were left, that was anyone’s guess.
Now it seemed that summoning a fierce ghost had been well worth it, extra round of potential death or not. Had the Jade Buddha group gotten sent here, they might not have survived the opening at all.
Then again, without their experience in Weishan Village, Fang Xiu’s team wouldn’t have been able to react so quickly, either.
Truly…
Fang Xiu couldn’t help rubbing at the goose bumps on his arms.
Bai Shuangying glanced over. “Scared?”
“No, just a bit overly excited.”
Fang Xiu muttered, “This time, the Underworld’s approach is pretty odd. Once we solve this ‘E’, we’ll definitely figure out more about how these rituals work.”
As he spoke, his tone carried a hint of laughter.
“There are still six more rituals after this. It’d be so meaningless if we just muddle through all of them trying not to die… Let’s go. We have a street to explore!”
Bai Shuangying’s spirits lifted. “Okay!”
“By the way, I finished counting first, so I win,” Fang Xiu said as they walked.
Bai Shuangying refused to concede. “I counted more. I win.”
“We said we were racing…”
“I win.”
“Okay, okay. You win.”
……
It was Fang Xiu’s first time strolling through a pedestrian street at night with a friend.
He’d watched a lot of videos before. Travel vloggers and food bloggers always liked to film at night, when the neon lights gleamed vividly against the darkness, producing a sort of cyberpunk dreaminess.
And, of course, sizzling barbecue or chilled drinks always appeared more tempting against the evening backdrop.
This street was the same way.
Many shops had set up stalls right outside their doors, and the faceless youths would gather there in groups of three or five, arms slung over each other’s shoulders, enjoying their flavorless late-night snacks.
The faceless people never spoke; they only gestured excitedly. The boys pointed and waved, and the girls huddled close to take selfies. Even though Fang Xiu couldn’t guess what they were saying, he could sense the joyful energy in their actions.
They must be good friends.
Fang Xiu couldn’t help turning to look at Bai Shuangying.
In his long, snow-white robe and waist-length hair, Bai Shuangying seemed like he was in a completely different layer than this bright, modern street. At the moment, he was pausing in front of a trendy cotton candy stand, quite captivated by the stall owner spinning sugar.
The machine was whirling away, forming a soft white fluff that somewhat resembled a living soul. On Bai Shuangying’s usually impassive face was a glimmer of anticipation, as if he were curious about this sugary treat.
So Fang Xiu went over to try the sample. Unfortunately, it was just like everything else here: a whole lot of nothing.
When Fang Xiu shook his head, Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze, disappointment flickering in his eyes.
“Let’s go.” He straightened up, his interest was gone. He stayed there a moment longer, quietly looking to Fang Xiu.
He was waiting for Fang Xiu so they could walk together.
Fang Xiu took half a step forward, matching Bai Shuangying stride for stride, just like so many young people filling the street.
It was a bit of a shame he couldn’t take Bai Shuangying to a real night market.
…But that was destined to remain an impossible dream. Fang Xiu sighed softly.
To keep a bit of anticipation for the coming days, they didn’t try to explore every shop in one go. By the time they were finished, Fang Xiu took Bai Shuangying to a place called “Treasures of Huai Zhen”, which sold all sorts of porcelain knick knacks.
They spent a whole hour browsing the store.
Bai Shuangying took a liking to a white porcelain vase with subtle dark patterns. It rested in a red silk-lined box that looked delicate and beautiful. Fang Xiu agreed it would go perfectly with the paper flower Bai Shuangying sometimes wore.
With the vase chosen, Bai Shuangying’s mood visibly improved, as if he’d shaken off the disappointment over the cotton candy.
All the while, the faceless shopkeeper stood behind the counter, swiping away on his phone, showing off his spare hair.
Fang Xiu wasn’t sure whether walking off without paying might trigger a taboo, so they just memorized the vase’s location and decided to return another day.
Back at their base, Fang Xiu reported truthfully on the “fifty-two people are dead” situation. Then he ignored the heavy atmosphere that set in and prepared to doze for a bit.
He had just laid out some cardboard in a corner when Bai Shuangying sat down beside him without a word. Fang Xiu, in turn, leaned his head against Bai Shuangying’s shoulder and fell asleep in seconds.
Before long, he started mumbling in his sleep. “There must be other survivors… mm…”
Seeing that Fang Xiu was fast asleep, Bai Shuangying swept his gaze over the rest of the humans. Their expressions ranged from terrified to grim; the same old faces he was tired of seeing.
He gave them only a quick glance before deciding he’d rather keep looking at Fang Xiu.
“Soul mooncakes aren’t bad,” Bai Shuangying murmured, relishing the warmth of a living body.
His human friend chuckled twice in his sleep, nuzzling closer into Bai Shuangying’s neck as though he might have heard him.
Unfortunately, half an hour later, Fang Xiu woke up.
Cheng Songyun, Guan He, Jia Xu, and Blondie had all collapsed on the floor, faces deathly pale, as if they’d suddenly been hit by low blood sugar.
Guan He was baffled, while Jia Xu and Blondie struggled upright, frantically demanding to know what was happening. Cheng Songyun was relatively calm. She described her sensations as quickly as she could.
“My head is spinning, my limbs are weak, my whole body is cold.”
She looked at Fang Xiu, speaking with difficulty. “It’s getting worse by the second… We must have triggered some taboo…”
Something’s off, Fang Xiu thought. They’d all basically been together the entire time, doing exactly the same things. If a taboo had been triggered, it should have applied to him, too. And yet, only Mei Lan and himself felt fine.
Wait, just Mei Lan and himself?
Indeed, there was one thing only the two of them had done. Mei Lan stomped a malicious spirit to death in order to feed her water ghost, while he had slammed that big-headed ghost into the boundary.
Fang Xiu immediately left the base, grabbed a small insect-like evil spirit from the corner of the street, and brought it to Cheng Songyun. “Cheng Jie, kill this.”
Still dizzy, Cheng Songyun obeyed, stomping the insect until its guts splattered.
Then her eyes instantly cleared, and she stood upright, even though her face was turning paler by the second.
Those still watching, minus the clueless Blondie, more or less realized what the taboo implied.
“At a… certain time, we have to kill an evil spirit?” Jia Xu panted, looking across to the old-fashioned clock at a stall opposite them. The second hand on that clock was still ticking.
“I checked it just now. It was 11:45,” Fang Xiu said.
“That’s the third quarter of the hour at midnight.”
Jia Xu muttered, “Before the third quarter-hour of midnight, you have to kill an evil spirit, or you’ll break a taboo…?”
“And if you don’t make up for it, your condition just keeps getting worse…?”
Cursing under his breath, Blondie forced himself up using the power of his ghost. A few minutes later, he returned from outside with scraps of an evil spirit clinging to him.
“Sure enough, soon as I killed one, I was fine again,” Blondie spat. “Good thing there are plenty of them out there. It makes it easier.”
“It’s not that simple,” Cheng Songyun said bitterly. “The evil spirits are also killing each other. If their numbers run out… I mean, if they ever get wiped out and only we remain, how are we supposed to handle this taboo?”
Fang Xiu reflexively looked at Bai Shuangying. Before coming here, they’d discussed something related.
[Living souls in objects count as half-evil spirits.]
…If the ritual counted them as evil spirits, then this could get quite interesting.
The author has something to say:
The young couple is happily out shopping! (Gore-free version)
Actually, by comparison, Weishan Village is a really friendly instance…
Also, in my initial draft, I wrote about an “insect-like evil spirit the size of a fist”. But, thinking of my friends in Guangdong who might find that too ordinary (…), I changed it to “the length of a forearm”.
Before setting out this time, Fang Xiu had thought about Bai Shuangying.
He admitted that he had misread things before. His ghost was certainly not the weak, helpless type. Back at the Weishan Shrine, Bai Shuangying’s sense of oppression was astonishing.
Bai Shuangying could contaminate karma, achieve flawless concealment, and even rescue fragmented souls. Most importantly, his ghost was extremely knowledgeable, apparently well-versed in all sorts of magical weapons.
It was obvious: Bai Shuangying was a rather capable support-type fierce ghost.
Previously, Bai Shuangying had said that his strength was merely average, likely in comparison to combat-type fierce ghosts. After all, being a support class, having lower offensive power was nothing to be ashamed of.
But in that case, Fang Xiu felt even more compelled to protect him well.
What Fang Xiu hadn’t expected was that this moment would come so soon.
They had just stepped through the doorway when bright lights flared and the ground shook like an earthquake. The group felt as if they had been tossed into a tumble dryer.
As the world spun, Fang Xiu lunged toward the figure beside him. He wrapped his arms tightly around Bai Shuangying’s waist, pinning his ghost beneath him.
When the dizziness stopped, his hands felt coarse stone bricks. Fang Xiu recognized them. They were often used for outdoor roads.
…He’d guessed wrong. This wasn’t an apartment building.
Fang Xiu blinked hard. Golden-red lights danced on Bai Shuangying’s eyelashes, and raucous music filled the air all around. For a second, Fang Xiu almost thought he had returned to the Weishan Village temple fair.
But it wasn’t a temple fair. It was a bustling, modern pedestrian street.
Night had fully descended, and the entire street was aglow. Numerous small shops looped music and ads, food stalls crowded both sides of the street, and at the far end stood a faux-ancient archway.
That archway was draped in strands of glittering lights, and rows of small lanterns hung overhead. The surrounding atmosphere felt incredibly warm; nothing like the eerie, oppressive mood of Weishan Village.
Bai Shuangying shifted slightly. “……”
Only then did Fang Xiu realize that he was still dutifully shielding his ghost beneath him. Bai Shuangying’s white robe fanned out on the ground, and there was an almost imperceptible hint of resignation in his eyes and brows.
Their faces were very close, Fang Xiu’s breath brushing over Bai Shuangying’s face in waves. Under the warm light, the blood-colored mole on Bai Shuangying’s left cheek stood out vividly.
Fang Xiu found his heartbeat turning unsteady.
He wanted to open his mouth to explain, to scramble up off him, but as soon as he moved, he sensed something amiss.
…He couldn’t move.
Bai Shuangying watched him for a moment, then sighed quietly. “Stay calm. It’ll be over soon.”
Fang Xiu was calm enough. The only issue was how awkward their position was. Right now, the two of them were pressed face-to-face, and Fang Xiu’s hands were still around Bai Shuangying’s waist.
At this moment, Fang Xiu was forced to acknowledge that Bai Shuangying did indeed possess everything he himself did. Even if Bai Shuangying’s clothing was part of his body, there hadn’t been any shortcuts taken beneath those robes.
…No. Stop thinking about that. There’s no need to dwell on such things.
Fang Xiu adjusted his breathing, trying to survey the area with his peripheral vision. A cursory glance revealed a lively street scene, but looking more carefully made his hair stand on end.
The road was full of people, yet all of them stood frozen, like a giant crowd playing “Red Light, Green Light”.
Among these closely packed figures, fully seventy percent were evil spirits.
They varied in height, twisted in shape, and stood rooted to the spot with only their eyes rolling about. Unlike the evil spirits in Weishan Village, the ones here on the street had distorted features and vicious expressions, making no attempt to hide their hostility.
Strangely enough, compared to the remaining “people”, even these evil spirits almost seemed normal.
The other thirty percent of the “pedestrians” were also immobile, but they had no faces.
They didn’t have blank, featureless faces; rather, every single one of them simply had the back of a head where their face should be.
No matter if viewed from the front, side, or rear, all that rested atop each neck was a back-of-the-head, as though their necks could rotate 360 degrees.
Looking closer, one could see the exact same thing for the shop owners, the customers shopping inside the stores, and the diners at the open-air stalls. Not a single intact human face existed in this whole sprawling street.
Meanwhile, Fang Xiu’s companions lay scattered nearby, also unable to move. All they could do was stare, wide-eyed, at the bizarre sight.
What the hell is this place?
Fang Xiu mulled it over but couldn’t figure out a clue. Pedestrian streets like this existed all over the country, and there was no obvious landmark building in sight. None of the store signs conveniently showed a location name.
All he could be certain of was that time here appeared to match the outside world, just like in Weishan Village. Countless shops were displaying “Celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival” advertisements, and the bubble tea stands were promoting osmanthus-flavored drinks.
By the calendar, it did indeed seem to be the Mid-Autumn Festival. But for him, that holiday had lost its meaning years ago.
Fang Xiu withdrew his gaze and looked at Bai Shuangying once more.
Bai Shuangying didn’t seem to be under any movement restrictions. It appeared he was simply lying there so as not to fling the immobilized Fang Xiu aside.
It was fortunate Bai Shuangying hadn’t been wearing the paper flower, or it’d have been crushed for sure. Fang Xiu looked at Bai Shuangying apologetically, and Bai Shuangying looked as though he wanted to sigh again.
Suddenly, a piercing whistle cut through the air.
Following the whistle came bursts of crackling explosions: fireworks blossomed in the sky, the bright flares lighting up the night.
The fireworks bursting overhead were like a starting gun. In that instant, Fang Xiu felt his entire body relax, and he could move again.
At the same moment, Bai Shuangying rose lightly. With a sweep of his sleeve, he drew Fang Xiu to his side. The air rippled, and they vanished in concealment.
Fang Xiu more or less understood why.
There were simply too many evil spirits on this street. This wasn’t Weishan Village. If the evil spirits here didn’t have to imitate humans…
Before Fang Xiu could complete that thought, the evil spirits twitched back to life. The moment they regained freedom, they pounced on one another without the slightest hesitation, plunging into a vicious free-for-all.
Above them, dazzling fireworks and a full moon lit the sky. On the ground below, vendors’ stalls crashed over, and grotesque innards flew everywhere.
In the midst of the cheerful music, anguished screams abounded. The sweet singing, mingled with ghostly wails, made one’s ears ring.
At least his companions weren’t wasting time shrieking.
While they had been immobilized, everyone had prepared themselves.
Cheng Songyun hauled Guan He over and opened a “Resentful Ghost Shield”. Blondie shot up onto a rooftop. Jia Xu disguised himself as an inconspicuous evil spirit. Mei Lan grabbed a cup of beer, plopped down, and hid in the liquid.
They had barely hidden themselves when a wave of foul-smelling dao-lao ghosts* charged over, flailing their sharp forelimbs and spewing poison gas at the spot where everyone had disappeared.
*Monster from Volume 12 of Gan Bao’s “Soushen Ji” records. They often come with heavy wind and rain that sound like a whistle and can shoot people with darts. Those who are shot by them swell up and die from their poison.
Bai Shuangying frowned, flicking his sleeve to isolate the yellow-green toxic fumes outside.
True to his classification as a support-type fierce ghost, Fang Xiu thought.
Failing to find the group, the ghost horde departed without hesitation, continuing to rip into their own kind.
Fang Xiu wanted to explore further, but everyone was hidden in the vicinity, and splitting up didn’t seem wise. The evil spirits kept on slaughtering each other, showing no signs of stopping anytime soon, so all he could do was watch from where he stood.
Somewhere off to one side, the faceless people at a snack stall were chomping on skewers out of thin air. On the other side, evil spirits disemboweled each other, gnawing on one another’s organs. Both sides simply ate as they pleased. This vibrant pedestrian street had abruptly turned into one big food market.
Fang Xiu got tired of the spectacle pretty quickly. He’d never had any particular fondness for gore.
So he looked up at the bright moon.
The sky was clear, with fireworks glimmering and fading beside the full moon. Their kaleidoscopic brilliance had a surreal beauty. For a couple of seconds, Fang Xiu nearly forgot all the bloodshed.
…Now that he thought about it, how many years had it been since he last celebrated the Mid-Autumn Festival?
His last memory of a family Mid-Autumn Festival was complaining to his parents that mooncakes were too sweet and not tasty.
After losing his mother and father, he gained a new family. But his new relatives were always busy and didn’t pay attention to such things… In recent years, he had always spent the day alone, treating the holiday as if it didn’t exist.
Fang Xiu had never imagined the Mid-Autumn Festival would return to his life like this. This year, unbelievably, an evil spirit was celebrating it with him. Fate really worked in strange ways.
He relaxed his back slightly, leaning against Bai Shuangying behind him. Bai Shuangying turned his head to look at him, his long hair brushing Fang Xiu’s T-shirt.
“Happy Mid-Autumn Festival,” Fang Xiu said softly to Bai Shuangying.
Bai Shuangying sounded puzzled. “Why must the Mid-Autumn Festival be happy?”
“When you were alive, didn’t your family have any Mid-Autumn traditions?” Fang Xiu asked casually, still gazing at the full moon.
Bai Shuangying pondered for a while, then spoke. “I had no family, and I’ve never died.”
Fang Xiu jerked his head around. “?”
Wait, you’re telling me you’re still alive?
This no-heartbeat, no-breath, body-cold-as-frozen-meat state counts as living? Even plants have warmth. Could he possibly be living stone?
…Well, if Bai Shuangying is white jade given sentience, that might actually make sense.
Fang Xiu almost asked him directly but then thought better of it. Bai Shuangying had refused to reveal his race from the start, so pressing him further felt somewhat rude. Naturally born evil spirits weren’t all that rare anyway. Regardless, Bai Shuangying was simply Bai Shuangying.
“Humans like celebrating the Mid-Autumn Festival with their families. When you’re with family, you feel happy,” Fang Xiu explained quietly, sidestepping the question of species.
Bai Shuangying said, “But you don’t have a family.”
Fang Xiu: “……”
Fang Xiu said, “Friends can count as half a family.”
Bai Shuangying was silent in thought.
After a few seconds, he spoke tentatively, “Happy Mid-Autumn Festival, Fang Xiu.”
Fang Xiu didn’t answer or turn around. He simply began breathing slower and deeper.
When he next spoke, his tone sounded casual. “It’s a pity none of the Weishan God’s offerings included mooncakes. Otherwise, we could’ve split one between us.”
Bai Shuangying: “I don’t like mooncakes…”
Before the words were out, an evil spirit’s leg landed with a slap at his feet. Bai Shuangying glanced at it and disdainfully nudged it aside. He’d gotten used to consuming living souls lately and saw little appeal in these dried-up low-level spirits.
Noticing that little gesture, Fang Xiu let out another laugh.
“I’ll prepare some living souls for you,” he said. “You can flatten them and eat them. Let’s just call them mooncakes.”
……
The killing lasted over an hour. More than half of the evil spirits on the street were gone. The rest departed after satiating themselves, leaving the road littered with carnage.
Those people with only the backs of their heads for faces continued to roam around, seemingly unscathed by the melee. They showed no injuries on their bodies as they strolled leisurely atop the corpses, giving the rest of the chaos no heed.
Finally, everyone emerged from their hiding spots one after another.
Having finished using her Resentful Ghost Shield, Cheng Songyun looked dazed, and her cheeks were crossed with fresh claw marks. It was evidence the shield had come at a steep price.
Mei Lan hurried to find an evil spirit that was still breathing, crushed it under her heel, and fed it to her water ghost as payment.
“Fuck! Why don’t these people have faces?” Blondie asked, rubbing the goose bumps on his arms. “Seriously, Weishan Village was a weird backwater, but is this place even in the living world?”
Jia Xu’s expression darkened. “Underworld sacrifices defy prediction. What’s important is locating this ‘E’ as soon as possible…”
This pedestrian street was very long, crammed with endless wares, thousands of potential distractions. The worst part was how confined it felt here, and the evil spirits were much more aggressive than those of Weishan Village, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
They had far too little information right now. They couldn’t even identify half of a taboo. They didn’t know whether there were other groups around. It was only after being forced into a deadly game of hide-and-seek that they had come to grasp how dire the situation was.
No matter how one looked at it, this “E” wasn’t going to be easy to resolve.
“Let’s find a place to stay for the night first,” Jia Xu said, automatically taking charge. “Then we’ll look around after daybreak.”
“Mm, yes… First we find a base, then we can go out and wander around.”
Fang Xiu tugged Bai Shuangying’s sleeve and added in a quiet voice, “Last time we went to the temple fair together, and now we’re spending Mid-Autumn together. Places like this have a lot of little trinkets. Let’s pick out a nice vase.”
A trace of brightness returned to Bai Shuangying’s face. “All right.”
……
At the top of the Disaster Relief Tower.
The paper figure bowed its head, respectfully presenting the sacrificial report from Weishan Village.
Seated before it was a tall woman.
She was dressed in a lavish red wedding gown, as ornate as a phoenix coronet and ceremonial robes. Her figure was strong, and her face was hidden beneath a bloodstained red bridal veil. Resting before her was a soft sword, brimming with eerie energy and stained with blood.
This was Ghost Immortal A’Shou, one of the underworld’s strongest ghost immortals.
For the past century, it had been her turn to govern this Disaster Relief Tower. The paper figure was keenly aware that she was a formidable figure whom it couldn’t afford to offend.
“The Weishan God ascended to immortality? Strange… Her fate doesn’t add up. She was obviously still a bit short.”
Flipping through the report beneath her veil, A’Shou’s tone held a hint of perplexity. “So someone from your level solved the E?”
“Yes.” The paper figure bowed its head.
A’Shou kept reading. “Let’s see… Well, that Old Man Fu was useless. It’s plausible he got knocked out by newbies… Interesting. The support from your layer turned out to be ‘Summoning Ghost’.”
“Indeed. I drew according to protocol from the Causality Furnace. The last time we got ‘Summoning Ghost’ as a support ability was a hundred years ago.”
The paper figure replied anxiously, “That was before your time managing the Tower, so it makes sense you aren’t familiar with it.”
A’Shou snorted softly, not responding. She kept flipping through the report. Upon reaching the last page, she let out a sudden “Huh?” and said, “You sent your people to tackle the ‘Mid-Autumn E’?”
“Y-yes. It happened to be time. I was simply following the rules.” The paper figure bowed ever lower.
A’Shou fell silent for a long moment.
After half a minute, she set down the report. The pages rustled as they scattered beside the bloodstained soft sword.
“Well, in any case, that Weishan God isn’t an evil god, and I have no desire to nitpick her ascension. Since you’ve already sent them off to deal with the ‘Mid-Autumn E’, there’s no point in debating. Dian’er, prepare to receive the next batch of sacrifices.”
“No one can solve the ‘Mid-Autumn E’. That batch of sacrifices…won’t be coming back.”
The author has something to say:
The young couple is about to celebrate yet another holiday together!
This chapter is all about cuddles (physical ones). In the previous chapter, Xiao Fang was still wondering whether his ghost’s body was really what it seemed. Now we have confirmation. Isn’t that great?
And after Chapter 29, the paper figure finally has a name. The paper figure’s life goes unnoticed by everyone…ed by everyone…
Kester’s answer remained the same as always. “No.” He set down the luggage and then bent down to hug Joshua. The teenager felt himself enveloped in a warm embrace, the arms around his body thin from years of desk work but the only ones in the world he could rely on.
“Joshua, I don’t want to be separated from you either,” Kester whispered in his ear. “I want to see you grow up, see you become a man who can stand on his own… but it’s not possible. You have to leave.” He gently ruffled Joshua’s hair. “Go to the colony with Giorgione, okay? It will be at least fourteen hundred years before you arrive at the colony, and if the modern medical theories haven’t been completely overturned by then, the knowledge you have will still have a place. You’ll continue to study, right? You’ll become a great doctor or medical scientist, just as you’ve always dreamed, right?”
He released Joshua, looking him straight in the eyes. Through his brother’s eyes, Joshua saw his own reflection—a pale, thin boy—a stark contrast to his robust brother, as different as day and night. How could anyone say they looked alike?
“I won’t be by your side, Joshua. You’ll have to learn to take care of yourself,” Kester said, showing a hint of sadness typical of farewells. He pushed the luggage into Joshua’s arms and took a step back, silently signaling: It’s time for you to go.
Joshua wanted to say a proper goodbye to Kester but was abruptly pulled away from behind.
“Let’s go, kid!” Charles Titian yanked his arm and dragged him away forcefully. Joshua stumbled, trying to maintain his balance while attempting to break free from Titian’s grip, but to no avail. He was forced to walk unsteadily towards the Dante, looking back at his brother several times. Kester stood motionless by the car, waving each time Joshua looked back.
“Come on, kid, it’s not like you’re going to die. Stop the waterworks.” Charles Titian gruffly turned the young man’s head.
“I… I’m not crying!”
Charles grunted, pretending not to see the tears streaking down the boy’s face. They were nearing the elevator, where a crowd gathered. Among them was Giorgione, easily recognizable. In the long interstellar journey to come, Giorgione would assume the leadership role in place of Kester, who stayed on Earth.
Charles Titian considered himself immune to the melancholy of farewells, silently vowing never to look back or shed a tear over this eternal parting. But at that moment, he couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Kester was still waving from where he stood, then a colleague approached him. Kester said something, and then the assistant handed him a handkerchief.
God bless that Charles didn’t turn into a pillar of salt. He turned to Giorgione and pushed the sobbing young man towards him. “Take good care of this annoying brat!”
“Of course, I will.”
Giorgione gently patted the young man’s shoulder, comforting, “Stop crying, Joshua. Cheer up, we have a long journey ahead of us.”
The young man nodded, still crying, but at least followed Giorgione to the elevator. He was the youngest member of the “Friendly Earth Scientists’ Interstellar Travel Group”. Most children had left with the earlier groups for space. Joshua remained until now because of his brother. If not for his youth, he might have stayed until the end.
Charles searched his pockets for a cigarette but remembered that he had smoked his last one in anticipation of the long journey. He chuckled to himself. “Might as well try quitting.” With that thought, he quickened his pace to catch up with Giorgione and board the ship together.
“This journey has 429 passengers, most of whom will directly enter cryogenic sleep chambers once the Dante passes the solar system’s outer transition station, and the rest will then begin their long sleep,” Giorgione explained as he led Joshua towards the cabins.
“What happens if everyone’s asleep? Who will control the ship?” Joshua blurted out, then realized he had asked a foolish question.
Who else but their best artificial intelligence? Leonard would take over the navigation and control of the ship, allowing others to safely sleep through the millennia-long journey.
Past interstellar travelers had embarked on the cosmos this way. However, they didn’t have such advanced artificial intelligence, so some had to remain awake for routine maintenance, then enter cryosleep, waking others in rotation to manage the ship.
So in that sense, Leonard’s creation really saved them a lot of trouble. Just enter the sleep chamber, sleep without dreaming, and wake up in a new world.
But when Joshua awoke from his long sleep 1,400 years later, by then Kester would have… would have…
“Teacher Giorgione.” He grabbed his teacher’s hand. “If Kester completes his research, will he come to the colony? Will he come find us?”
“He will.” The teacher smiled kindly. “He won’t leave us behind.”
Giorgione truly believed this. However, at that moment, Joshua felt he was just being comforted with a lie. Kester wouldn’t come. He would stay on Earth until the end of the world or until his last day.
They would never see each other again.
Joshua didn’t dare think further.
“Teacher, how long until the ship departs?”
“Five minutes.” Giorgione checked his watch.
“And how long until we leave Earth? When do we reach the transition station?”
“Seven minutes to leave Earth’s orbit, 36 hours to the transition station,” Giorgione answered truthfully. “What’s wrong, Joshua?”
“Nothing…” The young man bowed his head. “I just… miss Kester a bit.”
The teacher nodded understandingly. “Child, we can still communicate with Earth before we transition. If you wish, you can wait to enter the cryochamber until after that. You can leave him a message before then.”
Joshua silently accepted his teacher’s kind offer. But he knew he would never do that. He wouldn’t go with Giorgione to the colony. He had to find a way off the Dante and return to Earth, to home.
Joshua sat on his cabin’s bed. As the ship vibrated, he knew the engines had started, and in a minute, they would break free from gravity and head into space.
He had thought for a long time but still found no way to leave the ship. Maybe he could steal an escape pod, but he had no idea where they were stored. Teacher Giorgione surely knew but wouldn’t tell him.
Who else could he ask for help? Who else could help him escape the ship?
“Attention, passengers, please return to your cabins. The ship is about to ascend. I repeat, the ship is about to ascend.” The mechanical male voice overhead startled him. Joshua recognized this voice. He had conversed with it countless times in Kester’s lab.
“Leonard?”
“Indeed. How may I assist you, Joshua?”
It seemed Leonard still recognized him. That was perfect. Who knew the ship better than artificial intelligence?
“Leonard, help me!” Joshua jumped from the bed. “I need to get off the Dante!”
“The engines have already started. It’s impossible to stop now.”
“Find a way to help me escape!” Joshua shouted. “Use a lifeboat or anything! Let me return to the ground!”
Leonard hesitated. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. Using an escape pod while ascending is extremely dangerous, and Mr. Giorgione wouldn’t allow it.”
“Your permission is enough!” Joshua pleaded. “Please, Leonard, help me out this once! Let me go back to the ground. I need to return to Kester!”
If Leonard were a regular AI, he would never agree to such a whimsical request. But he was Leonard, the only advanced AI, understanding and adaptable, capable of making independent judgments. He could also be moved by human emotions.
“Turn right out the door. I’ll light the way for you,” Leonard instructed. “Head to the prep chamber. There are sky shuttles there that you can use to return. It’s very dangerous, though. I advise you to…”
“Thank you, Leonard!” Joshua dashed out the door.
“…You’re welcome.” Leonard found an unobserved path in the maps and lit the markers for Joshua.
Back to Kester’s side.
‘Joshua was indeed a fortunate human,’ the AI thought. ‘He still had the chance to return, while I can never look back.’
Fourteen-year-old Joshua, carrying an iron cage, crossed a garden blooming with begonias and jasmine flowers and plunged into the woods behind it. Untrimmed branches snagged his sleeves, and as he turned to free himself, something caught in his hair. This annoyed him. He really shouldn’t have followed Kester’s example by growing his hair long like a little girl, having to tend to it all the time.
Once he finally freed himself from the branches, the little creature in the iron cage had already started squeaking impatiently. “Shut up,” Joshua threatened, completely disregarding whether the squirrel understood him or not.
About two weeks earlier, he had found this squirrel on the hillside behind the house when the poor thing was caught by a malfunctioning patrol robot that mistook it for an “intruder”. In its struggle, the squirrel had unfortunately broken its leg—a major tragedy. Fortunately, Joshua was drawn by the noise of the malfunctioning robot and managed to save it just in time.
Joshua had always been interested in medicine (a stark contrast to Kester’s interests), and he had interned in Euclid’s laboratory last year. If it weren’t for the rule that one had to be sixteen to qualify for a medical license, he would have signed up for the exam immediately. Damn the rules!
However, this didn’t stop him from bringing home a model human body for dissection and, during dinner, bathing under Kester’s horrified gaze while showing him how beautiful the human hyoid bone was. “If you were my sister instead of my brother, I’d make you a hairpin,” he said.
“My God, my brother is turning into a mad scientist!” Kester stuck out his tongue and made a face.
Even with his medical knowledge, treating a live squirrel was a first for Joshua. He had to soothe the frantic little creature while setting its splint, enduring Kester’s ridicule for the gruesomeness of the procedure.
Of course, the outcome was excellent. The squirrel quickly recovered, bouncing around the cage, eager to return to nature. So, that morning, Joshua carried the cage to the spot on the hillside where he had found the injured squirrel. He looked around to make sure there were no malfunctioning robots nearby, then placed the cage on the ground and opened the door.
The squirrel couldn’t wait to bolt out of the cage and onto the grass.
“Go on, get out of here.” Joshua gestured to shoo it away. “Don’t get caught again. Go.”
The squirrel circled his ankles a few times, sniffed the air, remembering his scent, then darted up a tree. Soon, its bushy tail disappeared into the dense foliage.
Joshua picked up the empty cage and headed home. As he entered, he smelled breakfast cooking. His brother Kester was yawning and spreading butter on bread. He had only returned home early that morning, resting just a few hours. His fatigue was evident from the dark circles under his eyes. Normally, he could sleep until noon (letting Joshua, who had destroyed countless microwaves, starve), but not today. Today was special.
“Did you let that little guy go?” Kester asked.
“Yeah.” Joshua tossed the cage in the entryway, sat down at the dining table, and began to enjoy his breakfast. Today’s breakfast was neither too lavish nor too sparse, just like every other breakfast they had, with no difference. Kester seemed to imply that the days ahead would be no different from the past. Joshua thought otherwise.
Throughout breakfast, he didn’t say a word to Kester and just buried his head and ate. Occasionally, he felt a heavy gaze on him that made it hard to breathe, but when he looked up at its owner, the pressure mysteriously vanished.
Kester quickly averted his gaze, pretending he hadn’t been staring continuously.
Joshua snorted through his nose. What’s he being shy about? He wondered. This might be their last meeting. Couldn’t they say goodbye like normal people? His brother excelled in many areas but was terribly inept at handling emotional matters. At times like this, Joshua wished Kester weren’t the universally acclaimed scientist but just an ordinary older brother.
After breakfast, Kester cleaned up, grabbed his already packed luggage, and gestured to Joshua. The young man silently followed him. They stood at the front door for about a minute, then heard a car horn from behind the woods.
“Let’s go. Charles is here to pick us up.”
A ground car was parked on the road behind the woods. Charles Titian, chewing gum, poked his head out the window to wave at them. “Hi, Kester!”
“Good morning, Charles.” Kester put the luggage in the trunk and pulled Joshua into the car. Charles started the engine, and the car screamed in agony as it sped down the mountain road.
“You two really are calm,” Charles said. “You don’t look like brothers about to part ways, but more like strangers who just happened to share a car.”
“Mind your own business,” Joshua retorted.
Kester tapped his head. “I believe ‘manners’ are something that never changes, whether on Earth or in the colony.”
Joshua turned his head to look out the window.
Charles smirked. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. I was the same at his age, like the whole world owed me money.” He sharply turned the steering wheel. If it were not for the locked doors, the two in the back would have been thrown out. “I’m saying, Kester, are you really unwilling to go with us?”
Joshua saw Kester’s eyes flicker in the rearview mirror.
“Yes,” the young scientist answered. “I still have important research unfinished, and I can’t bring the equipment on the ship, so I have to stay.”
“God, Kester. Where and when you do your research doesn’t matter. Does it have to be here? You could come to space with us, and once we reach the colony, you can rebuild your lab and continue your damn project.”
“That’s years away! What if someone takes the achievements that should have been mine in the meantime!” Kester laughed after saying this. Charles laughed along. They both knew Kester wasn’t telling the truth. Even if he made any groundbreaking discoveries, the people in the colony wouldn’t know because no one would be there to pass on the message. Once the rest left Earth on the Dante, Earth would be truly isolated in the universe. Those left behind were like ancient people from hundreds or thousands of years ago, calling into the cosmos without any reply.
The car soon reached the temporary spaceport. This port, built temporarily to transport migrants, had only one docking berth, where two ships previously from the lunar spaceport had docked, and now the Dante was parked there. The Dante’s specifications were inferior to the previous two ships, and it was terribly slow. It would reach the colony about a thousand years later than its sister ships.
A thousand years! Joshua could hardly believe the number! Though a thousand years was just a moment in cosmic time, for humans, it was an unimaginably long period. By the time he reached the colony, he would be an “ancient”. By then, where would Kester be? Wouldn’t Kester have long…
Charles parked the car in the public parking lot. The spaceport was unusually busy, with about four hundred fifty people set to leave on the Dante, while less than twenty, all scientists following Kester, would stay on Old Earth to continue their research. Now, these people gathered at the temporary spaceport, representing all that was left of humanity on Old Earth. Soon, when the Dante departed, Earth would become unprecedentedly deserted—all cities abandoned, all settlements deserted. Only the labs would keep their lights on all night, illuminating the Earth’s eternal night sky.
Kester dragged his luggage from the trunk and waved to Joshua. “Let’s go.”
Joshua leaned against the car door, staring at the massive Dante and the ant-like crowd below it. He turned back to see Kester’s silver hair disheveled by the morning chill. The brothers looked extremely similar, both with silver hair and black eyes, although Joshua’s pupils were ringed with gold.
“What’s wrong, Joshua?” Kester said, “Come on, I’ll take you to the elevator. Giorgione is waiting for you there.”
“Kester, are you really not coming with us?” Joshua asked.
He had asked this question countless times, and Kester had patiently answered just as many times, always the same, and this time was no exception.
“I’m staying.”
Joshua suddenly felt his eyes dry. “Then… can I stay as well?”
Alois sat alone behind a cluster of rose bushes. The breeze messed up his hair into a disheveled style. He impatiently smoothed it down, pulled his knees to his chest, and curled up as tightly as possible, like a stray cat abandoned by its owner, hiding in a corner unknown to anyone to keep warm. Soon, he began to pluck the grass on the ground in frustration. When the grass was nearly plucked clean, he turned his attention to the roses behind him. He wondered if he would be fined or even jailed for “damaging the greenery” if caught.
Reaching out to grab a flower, he was pricked by a thorn on the stem. “Damn it!” he cursed under his breath, retracting his hand. His finger bled from the prick, and he sucked on the wound, tasting the salty flavor of his blood.
Once the bleeding nearly stopped, Alois got up, dusted off the dirt and leaves from his clothes, and walked towards the white cottage. On the secluded forest path, he heard sobbing.
The sound was faint, almost imperceptible unless listened for carefully, but he keenly noticed it. He carefully parted the branches in front of him and saw Joshua sitting on a wooden swing in front of the flower garden, his head deeply bowed, his silver hair cascading over his knees like a waterfall. His shoulders trembled, like a lonely and helpless child. The faint sobs and sniffles were carried to Alois’s ears by the breeze.
It was Joshua crying.
This shocked Alois greatly. He blinked several times to make sure he wasn’t seeing an illusion. How could this be? He thought. To him, Joshua always appeared so dashing and formidable, compelling all enemies to submit with his lethal prowess, beautiful yet never fragile. His sharpness, like a drawn sword, had thoroughly conquered Alois inside and out.
But did Joshua also have such moments of vulnerability? Did he cry like this when alone?
Seeing him so helpless pained Alois deeply. He wanted to comfort Joshua but feared being coldly rejected, pushed away mercilessly like a few times before. With this thought, his steps slowed.
Why did Joshua always keep him out of his world? Why keep a tightly locked door in his heart, preferring to decay slowly inside rather than opening up to him?
Why torment himself like this, bearing pain alone? Why not share it with him… even just a little?
When will this fool stop being so stubborn!
Before Alois realized it, he had already approached Joshua from behind and hugged him tightly. Joshua’s body jolted, then he struggled fiercely.
“Let go of me!” Joshua grabbed Alois’s arms wrapped around his chest, his fingers digging into the skin, seemingly as a threat, but his choked voice betrayed him. “I told you not to come over! Let me be alone!”
“No!” Even as his arms ached from the grip, Alois didn’t loosen his hold. Instead, he hugged tighter. “Even if you say that, I won’t let go!”
“Get away!”
“No!”
“Let go of me!”
“No!” Alois shouted. “I won’t let go! Even if you drive me away, I won’t let go! You said we would always be together. You said so… so I won’t leave you alone!”
Joshua’s struggling gradually weakened, and finally, he stopped resisting, allowing Alois to gently caress his ear.
Thus, Alois quietly held him, chest pressed against his back, feeling his heartbeat and the slight tremor of his shoulders. He felt the warm tears wetting his hand. Joshua was crying again. Those tears were so scorching they nearly burned Alois’s skin, but he relished the feeling. He wanted to be the person Joshua could lean on, the one to share his pain, listen to his sorrows, and help him out of the darkness.
He could accept all of Joshua, not afraid of rejection. He wanted to be loved by Joshua and to love him in return.
After a long time, the sobbing finally stopped. Alois loosened his arms and moved in front of Joshua. The assassin hung his head, unwilling to look at him. Silver hair fell down, covering his face. Alois reached out to brush his hair aside, but Joshua shrank back, turning his head away.
“Don’t look at me…” He raised his hand to cover his reddened eyes.
Alois wrapped his arms around his neck, wiping away the lingering tears. “Don’t be like this.”
“You saw me at my worst,” Joshua muttered softly.
“I won’t laugh at you.”
Alois gently kissed the corner of Joshua’s lips, then sat down cross-legged on the grass beside him, holding Joshua’s hand on his knee.
“I’m sorry,” Joshua said. “For how I treated you before.”
“It’s okay.”
“I shouldn’t have kept so much from you.” Joshua bit his lip. “You must be curious, yet I didn’t tell you anything…”
“If you don’t want to talk about it, then don’t,” Alois said. “Those things happened before I met you, I… I don’t care about them.” His voice lowered. Even he felt a bit insincere.
“I wasn’t intentionally hiding them.” Joshua ruffled his hair. “Because those aren’t pleasant memories. Sometimes I don’t even want to remember them myself.”
Alois stared. “Then don’t…”
“I think it’s better to tell you now.” Joshua raised a finger to Alois’s lips. “We should be open with each other. No secrets or doubts, right?”
‘You should have done this earlier,’ Alois thought. He nodded, signaling Joshua to continue.
Joshua looked towards the white cottage, slightly dazed, as if unsure where to begin. “Um… you ask.” He withdrew his gaze. “I’ll try to answer truthfully.”
“Okay, my first question, and the one I want to know most.” Alois shifted to a more comfortable position. “Who is Kester? What is your relationship with him?”
Joshua’s answer came almost without hesitation. “Kester is just as you know, the genius scientist from Old Earth. He is my brother.”
This response surprised Alois. “You’re brothers? Real brothers?”
“Is there any doubt?” Joshua appeared slightly uncomfortable. “But there’s a big age difference. He’s thirteen years older than me…”
“That’s not what I meant!” Alois exclaimed. “Kester is from Old Earth, right? That’s over a thousand—nearly two thousand years ago. How are you… Why would you…”
Joshua again looked towards his restored old home, holding one of Alois’s hands, while the other clutched the swing’s iron chain. Gathering his thoughts in the night wind, he began to recount his past.
Alois raised his goblet, clinking glasses with Nolin Titian. The Governor appeared aloof but was actually quite hospitable. He invited Alois to dine together “to chat about your thrilling journeys in the universe”—since it was difficult to refuse, Alois had to agree.
They were now sitting in the restaurant “Utopia”, surrounded by many other diners who showed no surprise at Nolin Titian’s presence, as if he were just an ordinary librarian rather than the Governor of Neo Athens. Nolin Titian also ignored them, only smiling if someone nodded in greeting. Otherwise, his face remained stern, as if he were complaining about the poor taste of the food with his expression.
After being seated, the Governor raised a barrier around them, instantly making all other sounds and sights disappear, as if only the two of them were left in the restaurant. Titian probably found this undisturbed atmosphere quite pleasant, but Alois felt extremely awkward dining face-to-face with a stranger who was overly familiar (and the head of a planet, no less!). Even though the restaurant’s ceiling was transparent, reflecting the twinkling stars and the dazzling, beautiful holographic clock floating above the academy, it still couldn’t alleviate Alois’s anxious discomfort.
“You should try this dish, my friend.” Nolin Titian pushed a plate of seaweed-like stuff towards Alois, eagerly recommending it. “Originally from Old Earth, brought to Neo Athens by the third batch of Earth refugees, you could say it’s a local specialty.”
Alois took a bite and almost spit it out immediately—the taste was just like eating grass! Nolin Titian revealed a mischievous grin, as if his trick had succeeded. “Nutritious things are not necessarily tasty,” he said.
“It seems like you really want to turn Neo Athens into a second Old Earth?” Alois downed a gulp of wine, angrily pushing away the weird plant dish.
“Not at all. Of all the planets dominated by humans, Neo Athens is definitely the least like Old Earth. Although, if we wanted, we could make it so,” Nolin Titian said. “Have you ever been to the capital of the Empire, ‘The Unfallen Star’?”
“I lived there for over twenty years.”
“The Unfallen Star is the planet most similar to Old Earth. Nasir Chabais longed for his homeland, so he transformed the planet to be extremely like Old Earth. If he had enough technology, he might even wish to reshape its seas and lands to match those of Old Earth.”
“So the people of Neo Athens don’t yearn for their homeland?”
Nolin Titian raised his glass. “Neo Athens isn’t a memory to be cherished, but a new world where one can pursue their ambitions. Imagine, when the third batch of Earth refugees arrived at this barren planet, there was nothing here, like a blank canvas waiting for a painter to apply colors. Those scientists could freely transform her, realizing their crazy yet enchanting ideas. Ecological engineers modified the environment, urban planners designed cities, architects built buildings in those cities that they could only dream of before… Everyone contributed like gods creating the world, bringing out their most ingenious ideas, making her incredibly beautiful. So you see—” the Governor pointed from the dining table to the ceiling, the light from the holographic clock seeming to dance on his fingertip, “this is the true Utopia.”
Suddenly, the barrier next to the dining table was lifted. Alois startled, instinctively raising his fork as a weapon, but he sighed and lowered it once he recognized the newcomer.
“Joshua? You nearly scared me to death.”
The silver-haired assassin glanced at the exquisite food on the table, casually pulling up a chair to sit beside them. “A sumptuous dinner, huh? Not going to call me to join?”
“You were reminiscing with Lord Giorgione.” Alois shrugged. “Even if it’s a meeting, there’s still a working meal. Have you eaten?”
“I did, but suddenly I feel very hungry again.” Joshua looked mockingly at the clump of seaweed. “Lord have mercy. You guys are eating this?”
Nolin Titian raised an eyebrow, curious about this uninvited guest. “Shouldn’t we eat it?”
“On Old Earth, this stuff was often mashed into a paste for facials,” Joshua informed them nonchalantly.
Alois felt nauseous.
“Clearly, centuries later we’ve discovered its nutritional value outweighs its beauty benefits,” the Governor retorted.
“Animal feed is also nutritious. Would you eat that?” The assassin pulled Alois up. “You look like you’re about to throw up, so don’t force yourself to swallow this stuff.” He turned to the Governor. “We won’t disturb you with your facial anymore. Excuse us.” With that, he forcefully pulled Alois from his seat and quickly left the restaurant, leaving Nolin Titian behind.
“You shouldn’t get too close to that guy,” Joshua said once they were outside the restaurant.
“Why?”
“Nolin Titian… that guy must be a descendant of Charles Titian—just as mad as his ancestor!”
“And who is Charles Titian?”
Joshua paused in his stride. “It’s none of your business.”
That only made Alois more curious. “Is he your friend?” he pressed. “Why do you know the Governor’s ancestor? How do you know Lord Giorgione? You…”
“It’s none of your business!” Joshua growled.
His voice was hoarse, like the mournful howl of a wild beast. Alois swallowed the questions that had reached his lips. If asking them made Joshua uncomfortable, then he’d rather never know the answers.
He quickened his pace to walk alongside the assassin. “I shouldn’t have asked. If this offended you, I apologize.”
Joshua didn’t speak but took his hand in response.
As they neared the seventh greenhouse, they encountered Beatrice. She suddenly appeared from a cluster of blooming roses, giving quite a fright.
“Hi, I was looking for you,” the young AI greeted cheerily. Alois knew this was just to appear human-like. Beatrice knew exactly where they were and what they were doing.
“What is it?” Joshua asked.
“Your old residence has been cleaned up. Would you like me to show you the way?”
The assassin furrowed his brows. “What old resi—” He followed the direction the young AI was pointing, and at the end of the rosebushes, he saw a white fence. In an instant, Joshua forgot what he was saying.
Beatrice had completed her mission. She picked up her skirt, performed an elegant curtsy, and disappeared into thin air, leaving Joshua standing there, stunned.
Alois tugged at his robe, puzzled. “What’s wrong?”
Joshua opened his mouth but couldn’t utter a sound. He walked briskly to the fence and lightly jumped over it. Alois hurriedly followed, cursing the cumbersome robes of Neo Athens that got snagged and nearly tore during the climb.
Like earlier in the third greenhouse, Joshua seemed to know the way. Beyond the fence was a small grove with a man-made path worn through it. He followed the path through the woods, past a neatly manicured flower garden, to a spacious yard with a white, wooden two-story cottage quietly standing at the back.
The cottage was silent, the windows dark, with no lights on—either unoccupied or the owner just wasn’t home. Near the flower garden in the center of the yard stood a small wooden swing, just big enough for one person.
Joshua stared motionlessly at the cottage. It was too similar to his home on Old Earth, he thought. Even the flowers in the garden and the crooked graffiti on the cottage door were exactly the same; he almost thought he had returned to his hometown… or that his hometown had been entirely relocated to Neo Athens.
No, this must have been rebuilt later, a voice in his head said, specially restored by Teacher Giorgione to welcome Kester.
Joshua approached the swing and gently touched its rust-free chain. He looked up, just able to see the study window on the second floor of the cottage, where he had often swung as a child, waiting for the sun to set and for Kester to open that window and call him home.
He stood quietly for a long time. The sun had disappeared from the sky above the Neo Athens Academy, with only the light from the holographic clock still illuminating the ground. The study window was dark, devoid of the warm light and the person he was waiting for.
A hand pressed on his shoulder. It was Alois. Before the other could speak, he preempted. “Don’t talk. Let me be alone for a while.”
The footsteps behind him receded. Soon even the sound of footsteps vanished. All around was silence, except for the chirping of crickets and the low whisper of the wind. Even these sounds were exactly as he remembered.
Joshua sat on the swing, just as he had done countless times as a child. He knew he was no longer a child, and this place was not his homeland but a reconstructed shell. Yet, for some reason, as he stared at the study window, his vision blurred with tears.
Then he left first, giving Fang Xiu no chance to say a word.
He was determined to uncover what it was about this human that could affect his seal. Bai Shuangying had heard that some people tattooed scripture or arrays on their bodies. Maybe Fang Xiu was hiding something under his clothes.
Besides, he wasn’t happy about being shut out.
Fang Xiu trudged back to the room, rubbing his face a few times.
It wasn’t really a big deal, and there was no way he was going to forcibly drive Bai Shuangying out, right?
The shower stall was barely a square meter, walled off on two sides by glass, with the other two sides against tile. On a little rack were white towels and bath sheets, looking surprisingly modern.
Fang Xiu removed his ring made of hair and wrapped it in a towel. Since the soul-nourishing spring supposedly washed away Yin energy, and the ring was an evil-spirit product, he worried it might dissolve like a puff of cotton candy.
“I’m actually taking off my clothes.”
He turned to face the wall while slowly pulling off his T-shirt.
Linking fingers with Bai Shuangying was no problem. Sleeping pressed against Bai Shuangying with their clothes on was no problem. Even being packed together inside a coffin barrel hadn’t made Fang Xiu feel shy.
Yet, being watched by Bai Shuangying while he showered… Fang Xiu was surprised to realize he still had a shred of modesty.
It was as if being naked changed things somehow!
But pressed to explain exactly how, Fang Xiu couldn’t find the difference.
Bai Shuangying’s gaze felt like a soft brush, sweeping up and down Fang Xiu’s spine. The back of Fang Xiu’s neck burned, and a prickling sensation spread across his shoulders. His hands hovered at his waistband, unable to make the final move.
He couldn’t take it anymore. Fang Xiu couldn’t help glancing over his shoulder.
Bai Shuangying sat rigidly on the ritual table opposite the bathroom, staring intently at his every move.
He wasn’t looking at Fang Xiu like a fellow man, or even like a fellow being. Bai Shuangying wore his usual unreadable expression, calm eyes tinged with inquisitiveness. It was strangely familiar, in a bizarre way.
Suddenly Fang Xiu was reminded of a cat that belonged to one of his elementary school classmates.
That cat also couldn’t stand being shut out. Whether its owners were using the toilet or taking a shower, it insisted on being there to supervise. Its stare had been exactly like Bai Shuangying’s in this moment.
Seeing Fang Xiu glance back, Bai Shuangying didn’t even blink, just tilted his head slightly.
Fang Xiu: “……”
Fang Xiu: “…Pfft.”
His ghost really was sort of adorable.
Feeling a bit better, Fang Xiu slowly tugged down his pants and turned on the faucet.
The soul-nourishing spring water was slightly cool, but it gave off a thick white mist as it flowed, carrying a faint smell of mugwort. The water was crystal-clear at first, but as it rinsed away the Yin energy from his body, it turned grimy and dark.
Fang Xiu cranked up the water, then stuck his head underneath, hoping to wash away his needless anxiety.
“Turn around,” Bai Shuangying said abruptly.
“Ah?” Fang Xiu nearly choked.
Bai Shuangying: “For the next ritual, I’ll help you as a ‘friend’. But first, I need to assess your physical condition.”
Fang Xiu: “You’re already helping me a lot. There’s no need to be so polite.”
“We’ve formed a contract, so a baseline level of assistance is required,” Bai Shuangying said. “But a ‘friend’ would help on his own initiative, yes?”
Fang Xiu wiped the water from his face, uncertain how to respond. Previously, he was the only one going on and on about “friendship”. Now that Bai Shuangying was actively playing along, Fang Xiu found himself at a loss.
When Fang Xiu still didn’t answer, Bai Shuangying continued, “Your clothes in the Tower are actually condensed from your vitality, and mine are the same. In reality, neither of us is actually wearing anything. Don’t overthink it.”
With that, Bai Shuangying casually lifted his left shoulder.
His white robe gradually melted and seeped into his skin. Part of the robe slid aside, revealing a graceful collarbone and a stretch of fair, taut flesh.
Fang Xiu: “…Stop! Stop! Stop! I get it. You don’t need to demonstrate any further! That’s enough!”
His neck felt scalding hot. His heart felt like it had been flash-boiled, and by the time he realized what was going on, he’d broken into a slight sweat.
Bai Shuangying looked over calmly, while Fang Xiu tried to say something, anything, to smooth things over. But his tongue went numb.
He’d thought a little embarrassment would quickly subside. After all, they were both men. Everything Fang Xiu had, Bai Shuangying presumably had…right?
Yet the subtle tension refused to vanish. Right now, he felt he’d rather smash ten more Shan Huanzi to pulp in front of Bai Shuangying than endure this.
Enough. There was no point in fussing about it. Fang Xiu discreetly drew a breath, covered his crucial areas with a towel, and turned around.
The moment Bai Shuangying saw Fang Xiu’s front, he let out a hum.
…So Fang Xiu did have something on his body, but it wasn’t any scripture or array.
Fang Xiu was quite slender, with eight interlacing knife scars crisscrossing his lower abdomen. His left thigh bore a large patch of old abrasions, while his right calf had a long scar that looked like it had been through some kind of treatment.
Ordinarily, these were all hidden under his clothes, impossible to see.
Bai Shuangying fell silent, his gaze once again brushing Fang Xiu like a coat of paint.
“All done?” The atmosphere was so weird that Fang Xiu coughed, trying to break the silence.
He had known it would turn out like this. Next, Bai Shuangying would probably ask about those wounds…
“You’re too thin,” Bai Shuangying remarked.
Fang Xiu: “?”
“Your body isn’t sturdy enough. It doesn’t look good, and it makes you easier to kill,” Bai Shuangying said in a tone that was more like a wildlife documentary voiceover.
His tone held neither curiosity nor pity, nor any forced indifference. It was as if those scars had simply been part of Fang Xiu from the start.
Fang Xiu suddenly laughed, pointing at the knife scars on his stomach.
“You’re not going to ask about these?”
“Why would I? They’re no different from growth rings,” Bai Shuangying answered calmly.
“You have these marks because you survived harsh ordeals. That’s a good thing.”
Sitting on the ritual table with his black hair and white robe softly draping down, Bai Shuangying at that moment looked even more like a god statue than the one in the Weishan Shrine.
Fang Xiu blinked, and a drop of water from his lashes ran into his eye, stinging it.
Everything went blurry, so he couldn’t quite make out that lovely face, but his heartbeat still skipped.
[Hey, did you hear? Oh dear, that child has it so rough…]
[Yes, it’s awful. How is he supposed to carry on…]
[So pitiful…]
[Poor thing…]
Countless old memories roiled in his mind. He had heard words like these so many times his ears had nearly grown calluses.
Fang Xiu didn’t hate the people who made those comments. He knew they meant no harm. But extra sympathy and pity could be like a sedative: not necessarily bad, but certainly something he didn’t need.
He had considered that Bai Shuangying might be curious or might not care at all, maybe even saying something dark and ghostly.
What Fang Xiu hadn’t expected was that, so far, he actually liked the evil spirit’s view the best.
…He hadn’t lost yet. He was still standing here, alive, and that was a good thing.
“Indeed, I am strong.”
Fang Xiu smiled brightly, relaxing entirely, almost forgetting that he was stark naked.
“As for my body shape, you’ll just have to deal with it. The Underworld doles out our ritual bodies. You can’t order custom ones. If I had my way, they’d give me something built like Fourth Master.”
Bai Shuangying thought for a moment. “That type is too bulky. And it’s not nice to look at.”
Fang Xiu: “…” So he’s picky about this, too.
Then he thought of a rather interesting question. “Since this body is just a magic weapon, can I feed it to my ‘Meal Card’? Suppose I smear a bit of blood on my enemy, hide out for two hours, then just press the Earth Knocking Cauldron onto them. Wow, that might be worse than an evil spirit.”
“No.”
Bai Shuangying crushed his fantasy. “It only destroys pure magic items. A magic item housing a soul can no longer be considered just a magic item.”
Fang Xiu was disappointed. “So what would that be considered?”
“A living soul inside an object is halfway to being an evil spirit,” Bai Shuangying said. “Also…”
Fang Xiu leaned in, intrigued. “Also?”
Bai Shuangying’s gaze flicked downward. “Your towel just fell.”
Fang Xiu: “……”
He silently picked up the towel, turning away. This time, not only was the back of his neck red, his entire face was, too.
……
After the shower, the first thing Fang Xiu did was test out his new ability. He pooled some of the soul-nourishing water on the floor and reached into its surface, pulling out a bottle of Wangzai brand milk.
Since it was originally an offering, he could drink it even without a physical body, which felt unexpectedly touching. After a moment’s thought, he took out a second bottle and placed it by Bai Shuangying.
Bai Shuangying: “I don’t like that kind of offering. It barely has any Yin energy.”
Fang Xiu: “I know. It’s actually for the God of Weishan. But you’re sitting on my ‘offering table’, so I can’t exactly place it anywhere else.”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
He looked down at Fang Xiu with a blank face.
Fresh out of his shower, Fang Xiu wore bright red clothes, with the black hair ring back on his finger. His unruly hair was still damp, the ends sticking to his skin, leaving his face fully exposed and making him look unexpectedly harmless.
“Thank you kindly, God of Weishan,” Fang Xiu said, stepping around him and putting his hands together solemnly.
“Thank you for letting us eat your offerings back then. This is just the promised return gift… Hey, hey. What are you doing?!”
Without another word, Bai Shuangying popped the can open and drank it. Then he leapt off the ritual table and once more stuck himself to the ceiling.
“You said it’s not packed with Yin energy,” Fang Xiu said helplessly.
“Humans sometimes eat stuff with no nutritional value,” Bai Shuangying replied.
Fang Xiu forced a chuckle. He could tell his ghost was displeased again. By all rights, he should say something gentle to coax him. But recalling Bai Shuangying’s remark about “friends”, Fang Xiu, on impulse, continued to pry.
He asked curiously, “What’s bothering you?”
“We’re friends, and friends come first,” Bai Shuangying replied righteously, finding this relationship quite convenient.
He had just spent a good while racking his brains about how to intervene in the next ritual “naturally” and “unobtrusively”.
“Folding Fang Xiu into the plans” was infinitely more complicated than just watching the drama from the sidelines. Ever since he’d come into existence, Bai Shuangying had planned only for himself, never involving other beings.
He’d been painstakingly figuring out ways to keep Fang Xiu alive a bit longer, but in the next moment he saw Fang Xiu grinning away, handing offerings to the God of Weishan.
What a complete reversal of priorities. If Bai Shuangying hadn’t lent a hand back then, there would be no God of Weishan in the first place.
Feeling annoyed, Bai Shuangying looked down to see Fang Xiu with crinkled eyes and a silly smile.
Fang Xiu tilted his head to look up. “Exactly. Friends should look out for each other. Want another drink? I’ve still got more.”
“No.”
“In that case, I’m gonna take a nap. Good afternoon!” Fang Xiu flopped back onto the bed and burrowed under the covers.
Within seconds, a few muffled chuckles sounded from inside the blanket.
Utterly baffling, Bai Shuangying thought.
……
Around noon, there was another knock at the door. This time it wasn’t the paper figure, but Jia Xu.
He sounded eager. “I’m organizing a little get-together. You in? We finally have a day off. We might as well get to know each other.”
This was indeed a good opportunity, so Fang Xiu didn’t refuse.
He didn’t say anything, but Bai Shuangying hopped down from the ceiling on his own, clearly indicating he was coming along.
The courtyard was laid out with lunch, much more lavish than breakfast.
The main starches came in three varieties: noodles, rice, and steamed buns. The dessert offerings had doubled, and there were plenty of fried or steamed dishes, plus delicacies like crabs and lobsters. Various drinks were lined up near the table, among which Fang Xiu spotted Maotai at a glance.
Sure enough, it was party time after a successful ritual.
Blondie clutched two bottles of Maotai, his face turning red as he drank. Mei Lan took a slice of cream cake, smiling faintly.
Jia Xu stood up with a cup of wine in hand. “Come on, meeting each other here is fate, even if it’s ‘bad’ fate, it’s still fate. Let’s do introductions so we know how to watch out for each other in the next ritual.”
With that, he started the introductions himself.
Jia Xu was twenty-nine this year, making him a year older than Fang Xiu. He was once a programmer and was currently a co-founder of a small IT start-up, truly deserving of the phrase “young and capable”.
“Whoa, boss, that’s awesome. I’ve heard of your company, and I’ve even played one of your games.” Blondie was grinning as though he’d never clashed with Jia Xu before.
Blondie’s real name was Du Zhichao, twenty-six, unemployed. He mentioned having some money on hand, living passably for now.
Mei Lan had just turned thirty-two and ran a store dealing in calligraphy and paintings; Cheng Songyun was a housewife; Guan He was still in high school. He was only sixteen, not even an adult yet.
At the mention of Guan He being sixteen, the group fell silent, then started cursing the Underworld for its cruelty. Blondie began drunkenly yelling he’d “take care of this little bro”, but Guan He ignored him completely.
All in all, there wasn’t a single major similarity among them. They lived in different cities and seemed to have been randomly selected by the Underworld.
“Fang Xiu, twenty-eight, hospital cleaning staff,” Fang Xiu said succinctly.
“Don’t joke around, buddy. What’s your real job?” Jia Xu didn’t believe him. By the look on Cheng Songyun’s face, she didn’t seem convinced either.
Fang Xiu repeated sincerely, “I’m just a cleaner. In a hospital, you see plenty of gore and drama, so I guess I got used to it.”
Obviously still doubtful, Jia Xu shrugged since Fang Xiu insisted on his story.
He pulled out a piece of cardboard. “I’ve put together some notes on the rules of the ‘E’. Everyone, take a look. We might need this tomorrow.”
No one knew where he had found it, but the text and diagrams on it resembled a sort of “Underworld PowerPoint”:
An E usually has three taboos, with one being lethal.
An E arises from a person’s obsession; the taboos connect to that obsession.
An E can only be broken in a “logical” way, or via specific spells as well.
Jia Xu: “Pay extra attention to number two. An E is kind of like a low-level AI that can’t distinguish good from bad.”
“Even though the God of Weishan had only benevolent intentions, the E still produced a ‘die if you don’t revere the god’ death taboo. So even if the taboos relate to the obsession, it’s not always straightforward.”
Blondie chimed in, “What’s the third line supposed to mean?”
“It means we have to figure out the nature of the E itself, then destroy it with a common-sense approach. For example, if the ‘obsession’ is about candy, then we need to eat it; simply crushing it with force won’t do any good… If it’s a candle, we should douse it, and if it’s a mirror, we smash it. Something like that.”
“But if you use spells, then there are presumably other ways… Like Fang Xiu’s mention of the Samadhi True Fire Talisman.”
Blondie hollered, “Nice, boss, that’s brilliant…”
Pleased with himself, Jia Xu went on. “We’re still not sure if evil spirits are bound by the taboos…”
Guan He frowned slightly and muttered, “Didn’t Fang Ge already go over all this this morning? Why’s he rehashing it with diagrams?”
Fang Xiu didn’t mind. “He’s including visuals. It makes it look more official.”
Cheng Songyun leaned over to look but murmured, “I still can’t follow the diagrams.”
Fang Xiu: “…At least it looks the part.”
Bai Shuangying remained indifferent. Relying on his hidden skill, he didn’t whisper at all. “Pathetic clown.”
Fang Xiu tugged on Bai Shuangying’s sleeve. “Having someone else step up to the plate can be helpful, too.”
Near the end, Jia Xu politely thanked Fang Xiu for the “inspiration”. Now Fang Xiu understood that Jia Xu wasn’t just playing leader for fun. He was used to a leadership role and couldn’t simply turn it off.
Bai Shuangying lowered his eyes. “I’ve seen plenty of men like him. In times of chaos, they don’t live long.”
Fang Xiu stifled a laugh. “I know, I know.”
With that, Bai Shuangying merely grunted. He glanced at the drinks on the table and selected a small bottle of soda. He calmly opened it, poured the soda into Fang Xiu’s cup, and kept the empty glass bottle for himself.
Fang Xiu: “…?”
He was about to ask why when Cheng Songyun quietly nudged him.
Making up her mind, she said softly, “Xiao Fang, I-I’d like to help you.”
“I won’t ask what you do. About what you did to Fourth Master, I haven’t told the others and won’t bring it up in the future, either.”
“I know you’re strong. As long as you’re willing to take me with you, I’ll let you use my ghost, and I’ll help you however you need.”
Fang Xiu was a bit surprised.
Just that ghost shield was enough to make him want to keep her safe. She didn’t have to go this far. If she’d seen how he’d turned Shan Huanzi into shredded meat, she might have reconsidered.
So he answered seriously, “Are you sure? I’m not picky about my methods. If necessary, I might sacrifice you.”
Cheng Songyun shook her head, giving a faint smile. “Auntie thinks you’re a good kid. If it really can’t be helped… then it can’t be helped.”
Then, as if remembering something, she lowered her eyes. “And if it’s someone like Fourth Master, I could kill too. As long as it doesn’t involve harming the innocent, I’ll do anything.”
Fang Xiu was silent for a few seconds.
“Alright,” he said.
When you only have one day off, time runs at double speed. Jia Xu’s “Underworld team-building” session ended, and it was already afternoon.
The festive atmosphere soon fizzled out. No one could relax any further, not even Blondie. They all knew that after dinner and some sleep, a new round of rituals awaited.
No one knew how many of them would still be alive the next time they gathered back here.
Fang Xiu took it in stride. The rituals wouldn’t be postponed just because they felt ill at ease. He and his ghost returned to their room, pondering how to feed Bai Shuangying something.
Then he noticed Bai Shuangying taking out that little soda bottle from lunch.
It was a 200ml glass soda, short and squat, perfectly transparent. Bai Shuangying wiped it clean, placed it upright on the ritual table, and inserted the paper flower from the temple fair.
Once he’d stuck it in, he even adjusted it multiple times, searching for the most perfect angle. His white eyes followed the flower intently, shifting as he made minute corrections.
Watching that white-clad figure, Fang Xiu felt a slight ache in his chest.
“You’re not going to wear it for the next ritual?” he couldn’t help asking.
“No. I won’t,” Bai Shuangying said at last, pleased with the angle he’d found.
“It’s too fragile,” he continued. “I don’t want to break it right now.”
……
Early the next morning, the second ritual arrived on schedule.
Compared to the first time’s confusion and anxiety, this time the air was heavy. They followed the paper figure up the stairs to the second floor, and no one spoke along the way.
The second-floor corridor no longer resembled a rustic country road. Instead, it was now an old apartment hallway. Even the walls were plastered with “locksmith ads”. The door at the end had a rusty, peeling surface, the kind found in older stairwells. Behind it lay darkness.
Fang Xiu casually grabbed hold of Bai Shuangying’s sleeve, and they walked side by side.
“This is something else… The second floor even has a new setting,” Fang Xiu whispered to his ghost. “I’m guessing this time we’re in some apartment building—ow!”
The moment everyone stepped through the doorway, some sort of change erupted.
The author has something to say:
They’ve been completely exposed—totally seen through! (In that tone of voice.)
Too bad those two are still clueless, tsk tsk tsk.
The second ritual is about to begin—this time, let’s see who can guess the story (*/ω＼*).
The style of the entire book is basically the same as the first story; there won’t be anything super dark or grim, so just relax and enjoy~n’t be anything super dark or grim, so just relax and enjoy~
The first thing Fang Xiu did upon waking up was check his entire body.
His dislocated shoulder was completely healed, and all the cuts and scratches had vanished. Evidently, the Underworld had reclaimed the “disposable body” it had granted them. Now he was just a happy living soul again.
The second thing Fang Xiu did upon waking was hop around the room.
Unfortunately, his constitution and strength were the same as ever. Destroying the Weishan E hadn’t brought him any sort of power-up. It seemed the reward wasn’t going to be a direct boost to his attributes.
Still, being alive and back here was plenty to celebrate. The room was tidy, and the bed was soft and comfy, leaving him with a sense of finally returning to civilization. He hurled himself onto the bed, buried his face in the pillow, then sprang back up into a spread-eagle position.
Then he noticed the seductive ghost clinging to the ceiling.
Bai Shuangying, who was watching Fang Xiu bound all over the place: “……”
Fang Xiu, suddenly aware Bai Shuangying had been watching the entire time: “……”
Fang Xiu thought it over, then scooted to free half the bed. “Do you want to lie down, too?”
Bai Shuangying flipped over on the ceiling to face the wall, feeling distinctly like “out of sight, out of mind”.
The third thing Fang Xiu did after waking was take stock of his spoils.
Since dozing back off wasn’t happening, he decided to get up and sort out his bloody harvest.
He had snatched five jade Buddhas from Fourth Master. These jade Buddhas, once smeared with blood from his middle finger, could serve as a substitute for his life.
As good as they were, there were obvious limitations: smearing the blood took time, making them useless in sudden emergencies.
From Shan Huanzi’s corpse, he had salvaged a stack of yellow talisman paper, a small carved wooden token engraved with the characters “Rain Demon*”, and a bizarre little cauldron the size of an eyeball.
*Clarity: This may not be entirely accurate translation. The engrave characters are (雨聻). (雨) means rain while (聻) is an obscure character often found in classical literature referring to a higher-level ghost (a ghost that have died and become 聻, kind of like a ghost of a ghost). It’s supposed to be a higher-level ghost that’s more terrifying than a ghost and thus the character is used as a ward against evil spirits. In Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, it is said that ghosts are afraid of 聻.
…He didn’t recognize any of them and could only sigh.
“Let me have a look.” At some point, Bai Shuangying had silently appeared behind him.
Since it was rare for Bai Shuangying to offer help, Fang Xiu scooted aside in a flash.
Bai Shuangying tapped the yellow paper with a fingertip, a slight look of distaste crossing his face. “It’s Taoist talisman paper. You can’t use it if you don’t understand Taoist techniques.”
Fang Xiu’s heart sank as he pushed the paper aside.
Next, Bai Shuangying pointed at the token. “This is also a Daoist magic weapon. It’s engraved with a Ziwei* incantation that wards off evil.”
*One of the highest gods of heaven and one of theFour Sovereigns.
Noticing how Fang Xiu’s eyes lit up, Bai Shuangying added, “But the quality is terrible. All it really does is make a ghost feel uncomfortable.”
Fang Xiu’s heart sank again, though he still kept the little token.
When Bai Shuangying saw the small cauldron, his expression flickered slightly. “Not bad.”
Fang Xiu quickly picked it up for closer examination.
It was entirely blood-red, faintly warm to the touch. Though only the size of an eyeball, its mouth was pitch-black and seemingly bottomless.
“That’s an Earth Knocking Cauldron, an Underworld item,” Bai Shuangying explained. “If you let a magic item soak up your blood for at least one hour, you can feed it to this cauldron.”
“Once inside, the item is destroyed, and its power remains in the cauldron for one day, which you can use to summon headless evil spirits.”
Fang Xiu mulled it over. “Does that mean the headless evil spirits literally have no brains?”
Bai Shuangying: “…Yes. They’re only really good at acting as meat shields.”
Fang Xiu patted the little cauldron. “I see. You sure know a lot.”
Normally, it would be perfect for disposing of useless magic items, a bit of recycling. But Fang Xiu was intrigued by its other functionality.
He clasped the Earth Knocking Cauldron in his palm, leaving his fingers just loose enough that you couldn’t see he was holding anything.
So that was how Shan Hunzi “barehandedly” destroyed Fourth Master’s Spirit-binding Chains. He had simply fed it to this cauldron.
Against evil spirits, the cauldron was nothing special. But against humans, it could be a truly formidable weapon. Fang Xiu even found it more useful than the jade Buddhas. Yet…
“Earth Knocking Cauldron is too much of a mouthful, so I’m going to call it my ‘Meal Card’,” Fang Xiu told Bai Shuangying. “If I’ve got leftover power after recharging it, I’ll swipe it so I can buy you a meal.”
Headless evil spirits had no heads, so wasn’t this like headless shrimp? Bai Shuangying was far too attractive a ghost to be stuck holding a severed head and gnawing on it. What a sight that would be. This “Meal Card” fit perfectly as a snack dispenser instead.
On the spot, Fang Xiu stuffed the Earth Knocking Cauldron—no, the “Meal Card”—into his pants pocket. He was reluctant to set it down.
……
“Up, up, up. Time for breakfast! Eat for good health…”
“No fierce ghosts at the table~ Don’t be late~”
The paper figure knocked on the door, hollering away like some kind of morning wake-up service.
Fang Xiu didn’t open the door immediately. “Why are no fierce ghosts allowed?”
Paper figure: “Their appearances are horrifying. It might affect everyone’s appetite.”
Fang Xiu: “My ghost is breathtaking. He’ll only make people hungrier.”
“…Fine, bring him.” The paper figure fell silent for a few seconds.
It really didn’t have a comeback. A ghost that beautiful was terrifying in its own right.
Fang Xiu grabbed Bai Shuangying, and the two of them headed out into the courtyard together.
Counting Fang Xiu, there were still six people here. The only difference from last time was that the auntie who didn’t summon a ghost never returned.
Seating remained as before: Jia Xu, Blondie, and Mei Lan at one table, Fang Xiu seated with Cheng Songyun. This time, Guan He didn’t hide in the corner by himself but quietly took the seat to Cheng Songyun’s left.
Seeing Fang Xiu, everyone but Cheng Songyun greeted him warmly.
Jia Xu jumped to his feet first. “Welcome to our hero. The paper figure says you personally destroyed the E! Awesome, Fang Xiu. How’d you stand up to Fourth Master?”
“That fool looked like he could crush you with one punch. You’re seriously badass.” Blondie gave him a grin.
Their understanding of Fourth Master remained at his peak state.
Cheng Songyun pressed her lips together, looking a bit pale. She tried her best to keep calm when she looked at Fang Xiu, but he could see an undercurrent of fear in her eyes.
Well, seeing someone as large as Fourth Master turned to minced meat up close would traumatize anyone.
“Fourth Master accidentally triggered a taboo, so I got an opening,” Fang Xiu said with a smile toward the other table.
Then he pulled three jade Buddhas out of his pocket. He passed two to Cheng Songyun and one to Guan He, then sat down with Bai Shuangying without making any further distributions.
Jia Xu’s broad grin grew stiff. “And that…?”
“All our ghosts can handle a bit of defense, but Guan He’s ghost is really weak, so it’s best if he takes one.”
“Cheng Jie’s shield can protect one extra person, so a single jade Buddha in her hands counts as two. Giving her two jade Buddhas equals four for the whole team. Then adding the one for Xiao Guan, that’s five total. So exactly one for each of you.”
With a sincerely earnest tone and expression, Fang Xiu continued, “As the one who actually got hold of them, I’m just keeping one more Buddha than anyone else. That’s fair, right?”
Jia Xu tried to keep smiling. “…Yeah, they were yours in the first place. I was just making conversation.”
Blondie did some finger-counting, got confused, and returned to quietly wolfing down his food. Mei Lan lowered her head and stayed silent.
Guan He murmured his thanks. Cheng Songyun hesitated but accepted.
She looked like she wanted to say something to Fang Xiu, but the paper figure suddenly spoke, cutting her off.
“Congratulations to all of you, truly! The first ritual is over, and you’re free to rest!”
It still wore that jovial grin.
The moment “rest” came up, Blondie hastily swallowed a mouthful of rice. “How long do we get to rest?”
Paper figure: “From this morning until tomorrow morning, you get a full day and night. Last night was a little extra kindness on our part.”
Blondie nearly choked. “Fuck, at least give us seven days. One day off is basically a single weekend!”
The paper figure’s expression remained calm. “The first ritual only took three days altogether.”
“…Anyway, I know you all must have a lot of questions. Let’s go through a few major points.”
Before Blondie could press the issue, it swiftly changed the topic.
“All of you enter the Tower in soul form. The body you use for the ritual is just a magic tool. As long as you have even a scrap of life left at the end, we’ll get you back to the tower in one piece, so you don’t need to worry about unhealable injuries.”
“When you first arrived, evil spirits temporarily ‘checked out’ your bodies. They’ll call your workplace to ask for leave on your behalf, then find a safe spot for you to ‘stay alone’.”
“If you survive and return, everything proceeds as normal. If you die in the ritual, your real body dies right along with you. Simple.”
Jia Xu’s eyebrow twitched. “Everything normal? But with eight rituals, that’s over a month. What about my job?”
The paper figure grinned. “If you live to come back, you can just wish for piles of gold.”
Jia Xu clicked his tongue softly, still not quite satisfied. He was quiet for a moment, then prodded further. “That guy who got eaten by a ghost before. There was blood everywhere. But aren’t we all just living souls inside the Tower? Why were we bleeding?”
“The Disaster Relief Tower gave you a provisional physical form, so that blood and flesh are part of your living soul’s vitality. If you lose too much vitality, your soul will disperse. But no worries, minor damage recovers quickly.”
Fang Xiu let out a soft hiss. He remembered how Bai Shuangying had pulled out all those soul fragments. He definitely preferred having a humanoid shape to being reduced to some ball.
The Tower was considerate, at least in that respect.
Seeing that no one else had questions, the paper figure floated lightly onto the incense burner in the courtyard’s center. Fang Xiu fixed it with a burning gaze, like a prizewinner waiting for the host to finish talking.
“The E at Weishan Village is gone. Whoever dispels an E gets an extra reward…”
The paper figure’s voice rang loud and clear. “The E was destroyed by Fang Xiu, so he will receive a huge reward!”
Hearing about huge reward, Jia Xu’s eyebrow twitched again, while Blondie emitted an envious “Ooooh!”
Evidently pleased with that response, the paper figure spoke more loudly. “If you personally vanquish an E, you become entangled in its karma. Mr. Fang, please pick one anomaly from Weishan Village, and we will turn it into an ability for you.”
Fang Xiu lifted an eyebrow. “Anything at all?”
He had more faith that Bai Shuangying was a fox demon than in the Underworld’s generosity.
“Of course there are limits. Since you only brushed against the E’s karma, you didn’t ‘own’ it,” the paper figure explained. “The heavier the anomaly’s required yin energy, the weaker its final effect. If you’re unsure, just ask.”
It proceeded to list three of the village’s taboos as examples:
If Fang Xiu chose the taboo “food and water must not be consumed,” he could make food and water taste foul, but still edible.
If he chose “do not harm the villagers,” then anyone who harmed him would be afflicted with total-body itching for ten seconds (humans only).
The death-related taboo demanded too much yin energy, so it wasn’t an option.
“Obviously pick the second one!” Blondie smacked the table and yelled at Fang Xiu. “Second one, second one! It’s useful!”
Bai Shuangying, on the other hand, remained as still as a statue. He had a feeling Fang Xiu’s mind wouldn’t work so straightforwardly.
Sure enough, Fang Xiu didn’t answer right away. “So, I can pick from any phenomenon in the village?”
Paper figure: “Yes. You could even choose the ‘ghostly wall’ effect of the temple fair, although the actual results might.”
“If it’s something that doesn’t require much yin energy, can it be replicated at 100% power?” Fang Xiu cut in.
Confidence flickered in the paper figure’s eyes. “Don’t underestimate the Underworld’s capabilities.”
“Oh,” Fang Xiu said. “Then I want the offering table at the Weishan Shrine.”
Paper figure: “?”
Blondie, in mid-shout, abruptly started squawking like a chicken with its throat caught.
“That table automatically replenishes offerings, so by all accounts it counts as an anomaly.”
Fang Xiu aimed an innocent look at the paper figure. “I’m guessing the evil spirits in the village kept refilling it, so it was purely manual labor, which probably didn’t involve much yin energy at all.
“And if it’s only about keeping food fresh, that doesn’t require much yin energy, does it? If you lot can supply ordinary goods from the living world, you won’t even need the yin energy to ‘keep-it-fresh’.”
“It is technically possible, but…”
But…there didn’t seem to be any real issue with it.
Yes, Fang Xiu had indeed chosen an anomaly. Yes, that anomaly required little yin energy. Yes, the Underworld could replicate it.
…But the end result sounded suspiciously like a takeout delivery service.
The paper figure could only stare, unable to force a smile.
Heaven help it… This was not the outcome it had scripted. It had prepared a plan for the second taboo, but among all six people, of course the weirdest one had been the one to destroy the E… Now it’d have to rewrite the plan and contact someone topside to buy supplies…
“Are you certain?” it asked, swallowing its indignation.
Fang Xiu beamed. “Absolutely!”
Paper figure: “……”
Paper figure: “…Very well. Please wait a moment.”
Revising a plan was part of the Underworld’s job. The paper figure understood… alas.
Now it wasn’t just Cheng Songyun who seemed on the verge of speaking but holding back. Everyone else looked similarly flustered.
“Fang Ge, I really feel like the second taboo would be better. If a bad guy attacks, it could at least slow them down,” Guan He said cautiously.
Cheng Songyun couldn’t hold back either. “We’re not going to see something like Weishan Village every time. Xiao Fang, maybe think it over one more time?”
In high spirits, Fang Xiu sat back down and picked up his chopsticks. “It’s only ten seconds of itch, right? The enemy can grit their teeth and bear it or use medicine or spells to hold it off. Anyway, if we run into that problem, we can figure something else out.”
“…But good food is nonnegotiable.” He grabbed a piece of chicken, and his words blurred as he chewed.
One stick of incense later, the paper figure finished casting the anomaly’s spell.
With a complicated look, it tapped Fang Xiu’s left inner arm with its fingertip, leaving behind a vivid red Kan trigram symbol. After a few seconds, the symbol faded away and sank beneath his skin.
Paper figure: “The E of Weishan belonged to water. All you have to do is create a shallow surface of water as your ‘offering table’, and you can retrieve offerings. It’s exactly the same amount and variety you originally saw, not a bit more or less.”
“Additionally, you can’t take this ability back to the human realm. Once you complete all your rituals, the Disaster Relief Tower will seal it.”
“What an incredible prize for breaking an E. No wonder Fourth Master and the others were so desperate.” Fang Xiu rubbed his patch of skin with a note of admiration.
No, Bai Shuangying thought, that surely wasn’t what they’d been aiming for.
“What’s on your mind?” As “friends”, he was willing to ask directly if he didn’t understand.
Hearing Bai Shuangying’s sudden question, Fang Xiu almost choked on his food. He coughed a couple of times and looked into those strikingly pale eyes.
“Well, uh…”
Fang Xiu stammered a little, voice quiet. “There might be even nastier rituals ahead where there’s no choice but to resort to, say, cannibalism… That’d be too passive, just not easy to handle.”
“Besides, offering people food yourself is a good way to get closer to the target,” he finished in all seriousness.
Recalling all the “feedings” along their journey, Bai Shuangying asked, “So am I your target?”
“You’re my friend,” Fang Xiu said.
Always such a slippery answer, Bai Shuangying thought.
During the remainder of breakfast, Fang Xiu explained the truth of Weishan Village to the others and summarized some points about the E, looking earnest and slightly shy, as though “kind and benevolent” were written all over his face.
But Bai Shuangying still remembered how Fang Xiu had turned Shan Hunzi into a bloody pulp with a shovel. Compared to this busily “performing” version, he found that bloodstained Fang Xiu much more pleasing to the eye.
…Well, never mind. Whatever Fang Xiu’s true intentions, the guy had already been dragged into deeper waters alongside him.
…Next ritual, he wouldn’t just be off to the side watching. They’d step onto the stage together. Thinking about that did sound interesting.
Once everyone had finished their breakfast, the paper figure spoke again.
“Right, from now on, each time you return from a ritual, be sure to take a shower.”
“It’s a special soul-nourishing spring that washes away any yin energy left behind by the E. If a living soul gathers too much yin energy, it’ll eventually affect their real body.”
Fang Xiu: “……”
Fang Xiu: “Bai Shuangying, wait here in the courtyard for a minute. I’ll just go wash up.”
He wanted to retract that earlier thought about the Tower being considerate.
He remembered perfectly well that the shower room in this place was glass-walled and offered zero privacy. It wasn’t about male or female so much as Fang Xiu just really hating to be seen naked. Even in the human world, he’d never gone to public bathhouses.
Yet after a moment of thought, his ghost spoke calmly.
“No,” Bai Shuangying said.
The author has something to say:
Hahaha, bet you didn’t see that coming. There’s only a one-day break between instances (so sad).
In this chapter, Xiao Fang picked up a “dining table superpower”, and Xiao Bai got a “meal card magic item”, so everyone’s got a bright future ahead.
In the first volume, Bai Shuangying hardly ever stepped in, which really pained all the fans who love seeing them stick together… But now they can finally team up for real!!!
Kinky Translations 