The fireworks burst with such overwhelming force that when the red light bloomed, Fang Xiu didn’t have time to react. And even when he did react in those first few seconds, his mind remained blank.
Bai Shuangying stood behind him, his chest lightly pressing against Fang Xiu’s back, cool and chill. Bai Shuangying’s hand held the Peach Bone Evil, his five fingers wrapped around the back of Fang Xiu’s hand, also cool and chill.
But Fang Xiu felt as if he’d just swallowed a gulp of boiling water. His whole chest was burning, and a layer of sweat surfaced on his back.
He had spent the whole day wandering about, yet always felt a subtle sense of detachment.
It was like watching scenery from a train window. He was merely a day-long passenger, separated from the world by a thick pane of glass. He was him, and the human world was the human world.
But now, the night sky was shattered by countless beams of light, and that unseen glass window suddenly splintered.
…He was no longer someone lurking in the shadows. These fireworks had bloomed for him. For just a moment, he had truly connected with this world.
Fang Xiu’s heart twitched. He tried to steady his breath and calm his heartbeat, but failed.
Maybe the first half of his life had been full of bad luck, but now he was ridiculously lucky…
Not only had he met Bai Shuangying, this “perfect friend”, he had even experienced that tingling flutter in his heart. For the first time in his life, Fang Xiu felt electric sparks at his fingertips, hot and itchy.
“This won’t do,” he couldn’t help saying to Bai Shuangying. “After today, I’ll want even more.”
Bai Shuangying tilted his head to look at him. “Then hurry and buy them. The holiday isn’t over yet.”
Fang Xiu knew his ghost didn’t get the deeper meaning, so he casually changed the subject. “…Why did you set off the fireworks?”
Bai Shuangying wasn’t a real seductive ghost, so it probably had nothing to do with emotional intelligence.
Bai Shuangying looked at Fang Xiu with confusion, as if Fang Xiu had asked something utterly ridiculous.
“Because you wanted to see them,” Bai Shuangying said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
The tingling sensation returned. Fang Xiu rubbed his fingertips, suddenly wanting to touch that blood-red mole.
In the end, he swallowed hard and held back. He averted his gaze from Bai Shuangying and turned toward the glittering sky.
The heart palpitations hadn’t stopped. The slight pulling pain felt bittersweet and oddly satisfying, like drinking freshly opened iced Coke.
…Fang Xiu had never liked anyone before, so he didn’t know if this counted as a crush. He also didn’t know if indulging in it would affect his usual state.
…Whatever. Might as well experience it first. Maybe the feeling would fade in a few days.
Once his heartbeat settled a bit, Fang Xiu flipped his hand and grabbed Bai Shuangying’s wrist. “Come on, let’s go buy some stuff and head back.”
Bai Shuangying hummed and didn’t forget to grab his cotton candy before leaving.
In the night sky, the fireworks were still in full bloom.
……
The Underworld had said beforehand that any items they bought could be taken into the rooms of the Disaster Relief Tower, but not into the ritual itself. Yet when they returned, Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying were both lugging around a bunch of bags.
Following the principle of “must spend the whole budget”, Fang Xiu had purchased a ton of power banks, brand-name mini speakers, and tablets from the electronics store. The remaining money went toward snacks and drinks.
Compared to them, the others looked much more “lightly packed”.
Cheng Songyun’s eyes were red and swollen. She had probably spoken with her child on the phone. She deposited all the money into her account, saying that if she died in the ritual, the money could still go to her child.
Mei Lan and Guan He did similar things, though they hoped to survive and take more money out.
Jia Xu bought some high-end tobacco and liquor, complaining that the money wasn’t enough. Blondie, on the other hand, bought a giant box of brightly colored… sex toys.
Blondie grinned: “You guys don’t get it, I’m gonna have the time of my life for these few days…”
Bai Shuangying didn’t recognize the items and was about to lean in for a closer look, but Fang Xiu, without changing expression, dragged him away.
“Don’t look. All useless junk,” Fang Xiu said seriously, pulling his ghost back to their room.
He didn’t want to hear Blondie’s dirty jokes, and definitely didn’t want Bai Shuangying’s hands touching those things. His ghost’s long, slender fingers were made to hold a Peach Bone Evil, not that nonsense.
As soon as they entered the room, Fang Xiu organized the mountain of snacks into the storage cabinet. He connected a fully charged speaker to the tablet and tested playing the downloaded music.
Considering Bai Shuangying’s traditional appearance, he probably wouldn’t like modern, edgy stuff, so Fang Xiu had saved some nature-themed instrumental tracks. Now, accompanied by the sound of falling rain, a gentle piano melody filled the room.
His ghost instantly forgot all about Blondie’s stash. Like a curious cat, he gently stroked the speaker, trying to figure out how the sound was being produced.
As Fang Xiu listened to the soothing music and watched the scene, a small sense of happiness welled up in him.
While Bai Shuangying was fiddling with the speaker, Fang Xiu used his skill to heat up a bottle of osmanthus milk tea, then quietly climbed onto the bed.
“Want to try some osmanthus milk tea? Just milk and osmanthus tea, no bubbles.”
Fang Xiu slipped behind Bai Shuangying, twisted off the cap, and held the drink toward him.
Bai Shuangying scrutinized the bottle cautiously, then turned and took a sip.
From this angle, his collar was slightly open, revealing elegant collarbones. The Peach Bone Evil was stuck diagonally in his robe, and the flower ornament looked as fresh as if it had just bloomed.
Before, Fang Xiu had been able to view it all with pure appreciation. Now, he just felt like the heated milk tea was attacking his hand.
“Not bad,” Bai Shuangying drank a few more sips and licked his lips.
Fang Xiu caught a glimpse of that flickering tongue. “That’s great. Well, we should totally go to sleep now good night Bai Shuangying.”
He darted under the covers like a shot, leaving the milk tea untouched.
Bai Shuangying: “?”
By the end of the day, his human was becoming increasingly incomprehensible.
Seeing that Fang Xiu intended to sleep, Bai Shuangying reluctantly left the speaker and floated back to the ceiling.
Truthfully, after sleeping on the bed that night, Bai Shuangying thought it was more comfortable than the ceiling. Having experienced the warm, soft mattress and Fang Xiu’s body heat, he now found the hard ceiling somewhat unpleasant.
Even if there was a risk of being gnawed on by Fang Xiu, the bed was still preferable.
But Fang Xiu had cocooned himself entirely in the blanket, shutting himself off from the world. Bai Shuangying couldn’t just rip the covers open and ask if he wanted to share the bed.
…Better to maintain the current status quo, Bai Shuangying thought.
Inside the blanket.
Fang Xiu exhaled and berated himself for being so useless.
What was there to be embarrassed about?! …Bai Shuangying had already seen him naked, so what if he saw the tip of his tongue?!
Life is short. He should look and look hard(er next time). What’s the point of having eyes if not to admire beauty?
Then it hit him: Bai Shuangying didn’t need sleep and could spend all night watching him from the ceiling.
That thought made Fang Xiu unsure how to fall asleep. They might as well sleep back-to-back, just like eating with a friend, sitting side by side was less awkward than face-to-face.
But suddenly inviting Bai Shuangying to share the bed might sound like a serious proposition.
…Better to maintain the current status quo, Fang Xiu thought.
That night, Fang Xiu dreamed of brilliant red fireworks and a bright full moon.
Unlike reality, the fireworks in the dream exploded with booming sounds, like a heartbeat.
……
The next morning, everyone had developed a kind of numb acceptance.
They each carried their magic tools. Cheng Songyun silently clutched her prayer beads; even Blondie solemnly strapped a family crest to his back.
Before breakfast, Fang Xiu finally received the promised qiankun bag.
It looked like a small white cloth pouch, embroidered with the word “Fang” in red thread at the opening. Once he tucked it into his pocket, it instantly turned into an inner lining, turning Fang Xiu into a real-life Doraemon.
The bag could hold about one cubic meter. Anything stored would have negligible weight. But it could only hold dead objects and magic tools, not evil spirits or living people.
The Underworld had sealed off most avenues for cheating.
After handing over the bag, the paper figure hesitated. “Yesterday at the commercial street…”
“I know,” Fang Xiu replied solemnly. “If the human world wants to punish us, we’ll fully cooperate.”
Punish in the human world? The paper figure was stunned.
Fang Xiu eyes were full of sincerity. “Didn’t we violate fire safety regulations?”
paper figure: “Uh, your evil spirit used magic in public, causing a supernatural phenomenon. At least ten Underworld officials witnessed the ghost flames.”
Fang Xiu: “Oh, but that has nothing to do with the ritual. If you believe we’ve leaked Underworld secrets, feel free to provide proof… I won’t argue.”
The paper figure was speechless.
They couldn’t prove it was a secret leak. Ghost flames were still just fireworks, and nobody thought they were an Underworld operation. The fireworks weren’t even dangerous.
Damn, it hadn’t done its homework. If only it had just said “no magic allowed”!
Now all it could say was, “…Ah well, never mind, just watch out next time.”
Fang Xiu gave it a “sure, next time for sure” kind of polite smile.
After a hearty meal and a good drink, the third ritual arrived as scheduled.
This time, the second floor became a pale blue, scratched-up wall, and the entrance door was a somewhat worn apartment door.
Fang Xiu grabbed Bai Shuangying’s wrist and brought up the rear. Once they passed the ritual gate, they saw an incredibly ordinary apartment lobby…
The lobby had green plants, sofas, and directly opposite the entrance hung a portrait of Zhong Kui. The lighting was a bit too bright, and there was even a messenger ghost sitting at the reception desk.
The ghost was a paper figure too, dressed similarly to Dian’er. It had five eyes on its face, arranged like a lotus blossom.
Seeing them enter, the five-eyed paper figure sluggishly looked up. “Welcome to ‘Huanxi Xin’. I’m Dian Wu, a special Underworld appointee.”
Jia Xu: “Why are you here? Aren’t Underworld officials supposed to show up only after the ritual ends?”
He once again took the role of leader, his tone quite confident.
Dian Wu held a thermos, blinking its five eyes in turn. “This is just a midpoint station in the ritual. We want to provide better service to ensure your swift success in getting rid of the ‘E’.”
Having just endured the Mid-Autumn Festival ritual, no one believed a word it said.
Dian Wu sighed. “Fine, don’t believe me. Either way, the sooner you finish, the sooner I clock out… Oh right, here are your room cards for ‘Huanxi Xin’.”
Jia Xu frowned. “Room cards now?”
Dian Wu recited mechanically, “‘Huanxi Xin’ is an apartment building and the site for this ritual. After entering, each of you will be assigned a room.”
“We’re intervening to match you with rooms that have karmic ties. If no match is found, we’ll assign a good one to maintain your health and peace of mind.”
Fang Xiu couldn’t help clicking his tongue. This was unusually considerate for the Underworld.
“The Underworld’s never helped us like this before,” Jia Xu noted sternly while crossing his arms.
Dian Wu seemed used to the question, sounding like a customer service rep, kind and robotic. “The ‘Huanxi E’ is special. The Underworld wants it gone ASAP, so we’re all-in.”
“Here’s your room card. Open it after the ritual begins.” It handed Jia Xu a red envelope.
Then it handed red envelopes to Cheng Songyun and Mei Lan as well.
Blondie and Guan He received white envelopes and looked visibly confused. Guan He relaxed slightly when he saw Fang Xiu also had a white one.
“Red means karmic tie; white means none. I wish you all success.” Dian Wu pointed to the nearby elevator. “That’s the real entrance. Please proceed.”
“Don’t move. It might be a trap,” Jia Xu warned.
Fang Xiu looked at Bai Shuangying, who said, “Dian Wu is indeed an official.”
Fang Xiu walked toward the elevator. Seeing him move, Guan He and Cheng Songyun followed, then Blondie and Mei Lan. After a few seconds, only Jia Xu remained behind.
His face twitched, and he grudgingly stepped into the elevator.
There were no floor buttons in the elevator. It looked like a wooden coffin, spacious, but still eerie.
Once everyone was inside, the elevator didn’t move. Instead, the doors closed, then reopened, revealing a new scene.
Beyond was a corridor lined with auspicious paintings and identical apartment doors. None of the doors had labels.
Once out of the elevator, Blondie was the first to open his envelope.
Out dropped a golden room card and a palm-sized card. Blondie glanced at the card and exclaimed loudly, “Damn.”.
“So direct?” He muttered as he flipped the card over.
Seeing he was unharmed, the others opened theirs too. Everyone’s envelope had the same contents: a gold room card with their name and birthdate printed, but no room number.
The kicker was the card.
Fang Xiu picked his up and nearly gasped like Blondie. Seeing his rare shock, Bai Shuangying leaned over to read it too.
The card clearly displayed three lines:
First Taboo: You must win a game daily. Fail, and suffer harm.
Second Taboo: All stakes must be exchanged with life. Steal and be punished.
Third Taboo: You must always hold a chip. Lose it, and die. (※Note: This is a death taboo)
Starting off with three explicit taboos revealed? No one knew what to say.
…How desperate was Dian Wu to get off work?
Guan He: “Looks like the Underworld really wants to end this E quickly.”
Cheng Songyun hesitated. “This might not be true. And it’s vague. Where are we supposed to ‘win’ anything? It’s just apartments here.”
Jia Xu checked the back of the room card. “Says every door works. Du Zhichao, you try.”
Blondie grumbled, “Stop ordering me around.”
Even so, he still swiped his card on the nearest door.
It clicked open. Inside was a tidy hotel-style room with nice décor. Nothing seemed out of place.
He chuckled, closed the door, then swiped the next one. Same layout.
“Standard room?” he said curiously. “Hey, there’s even a guest menu! Check this out!”
The gold menu was placed squarely on the pillow, that it was impossible to miss. Blondie picked it up excitedly to show the others.
Before showing it, Blondie took a quick look at it himself. The menu design was gaudy and tacky, like something a nouveau riche would print. The contents were brief but jarring.
However, he found everyone’s expression gradually tightened. Blondie quickly turned over the menu and read it over carefully again.
[Huanxi Xin Service Price List] ◆ A Bowl of Veggie Rice: 1 chip ◆ Premium Meal Set: 10 chips ◆ Premium Clothing: 10 chips ◆ One Night of Pleasure: 100 chips ◆ Top-shelf Liquor & Tobacco: 100 chips ◆ Gold & Jewelry: 100 chips ◆ 13 Pounds of Human Flesh: 1000 chips
~Special Offer~ Free chip upon entry! Rice gruel available 24/7! Each room comes with special knives and a weighing scale!
At the bottom of the menu, a white chip was affixed, its center bore a bold black “1”.
The chip pulsed slightly, the “1” rotating like a vertical pupil, calmly eyeing the six sacrifices.
The author has something to say:
The third ritual is starting!
Liars have always been doomed to get wrecked by straight shooters~ (said in *that* tone)
Bai Shuangying declined Fang Xiu’s invitation to breakfast, and Fang Xiu didn’t press the matter. To prepare for eating more, he even visited a pharmacy and proactively bought some digestion tablets.
Then he began.
A bowl of wontons, a cup of eight-treasure porridge, a full set of thin pancakes… Fang Xiu devoured the breakfast shop’s offerings like a ravenous beast, resembling a possessed food processor.
Bai Shuangying’s eyes widened slightly as he watched. How could this guy chew slowly yet eat so fast at the same time?
Though the Underworld provided him a human shell, it was still a shell. Fang Xiu had a slim waist and thin flesh. After all this food, his stomach slightly bulged. Bai Shuangying couldn’t help himself. He reached out and poked Fang Xiu’s belly.
Fang Xiu was drinking tofu pudding when the poke made him jolt all over nearly choking him.
“Stop, my belly’s ticklish.” Fang Xiu coughed for a long while, his face turning red.
Bai Shuangying regretfully withdrew his hand.
His human had been eating since six in the morning, all the way until the 9:15 AM movie screening.
Right before the show, Fang Xiu even bought caramel popcorn and a Coke at the theater. After all, the Underworld was footing the bill, so he might as well enjoy it.
It was Bai Shuangying’s first time seeing “exploded grain”, and he took interest in the popcorn.
Fang Xiu scooted over sneakily. “Need me to draw a circle for you?”
This wasn’t the Disaster Relief Tower, and these weren’t spirit souls, so Fang Xiu wasn’t sure if Bai Shuangying could eat human-world food directly. He offered the popcorn bucket eagerly, eyes full of curiosity.
Bai Shuangying picked out a kernel from the bucket and ate it.
“Not bad,” he commented.
The method of processing grains was novel to him. He’d only ever seen humans grind flour and steam it.
Before Fang Xiu could respond, Bai Shuangying leaned over and mimicked Fang Xiu’s motion, taking a sip of his Coke.
His long hair brushed Fang Xiu’s wrist, freezing Fang Xiu in place.
His Adam’s apple bobbed, fingers tightening slightly, as if the straw was connected to his nerves.
He had just used that straw himself. Wasn’t this kind of inappropriate…
In the past, classmates had taken sips from his drinks, and he found it disgusting, ending up giving them the whole bottle.
Now, though, he didn’t find Bai Shuangying dirty. Bai Shuangying’s white robes were spotless, and his true form was beautiful enough to seem otherworldly.
Still, Fang Xiu felt awkward.
Just a few days ago, he’d held the guy all night in his arms. Looking now at the white-clad Bai Shuangying, he belatedly registered how strange it all was.
Meanwhile, Bai Shuangying frowned after drinking the Coke. “This thing feels like it’s biting me.”
Fang Xiu snapped back to reality, curling his lips. “That’s carbon dioxide… well, little bubbles exploding. It’s fine.”
Bai Shuangying glanced at the popcorn. “Do humans like ‘explosions’ now?”
Fang Xiu couldn’t hold back and burst out laughing in front of the concession stand clerk.
He bought an extra bucket of chocolate-flavored popcorn and got his ghost a lemon iced tea. There was no fizz, so it was very safe to drink.
Bai Shuangying carefully concealed himself and didn’t cause any “floating-tea scares”. People around could sense someone near Fang Xiu but couldn’t quite focus their attention on that figure.
And so, the two entered the theater without a hitch.
Man and ghost, both wearing 3D glasses, with popcorn in one hand and a drink in the other, took the best seats in the house.
It was a weekday morning, so the place wasn’t crowded. And since the movie was a re-release, the audience was sparse. It was almost like they were watching a private screening.
The film was a cliché disaster romance with a simple plot: pollution leak spawns a mutant monster that razes the city. A man and woman rise to the occasion, build powerful weapons, and slay the beast.
The main storyline wasn’t really about the monster. It was about how the two leads went from enemies to lovers.
Bai Shuangying ate popcorn while watching attentively in an unusually proper position. He didn’t make a sound the whole time, which was more disciplined than most humans.
Fang Xiu slouched lazily, his head leaning on his ghost’s shoulder, eyes angled toward the screen.
He’d seen the film several times before—on a phone, on a computer, but never in a theater.
It was just as he imagined. The giant screen was indeed impressive, and the feeling of watching a movie with a friend was delightful.
His only regret was that Bai Shuangying was too composed. Even during intense 3D destruction scenes, his ghost sat calmly in place, completely unfazed.
Fang Xiu kept glancing at Bai Shuangying’s face, until the latter reached out and turned his head toward the screen.
After the movie, Bai Shuangying reflected, “So it was a story from a foreign land.”
Fang Xiu sucked on his straw. “Yeah, it’s a pretty famous feel-good flick abroad. ‘Feel-good’ means it’s supposed to be uplifting.”
Bai Shuangying looked down. “I didn’t feel uplifted.”
“Huh?”
“The creature only wanted to survive. It destroyed the city because it was too large.” He recalled the plot. “Everyone in the story hated it, but I saw no fault in it. Humans released the toxins first, which created the monster.”
“Because it crushed a lot of people. Humans always see things from their own perspective,” Fang Xiu replied casually.
Bai Shuangying snorted. “It’s clearly a survival conflict, yet they moralize and call the creature ‘inhumane’. Why should an alien species understand humanity?”
Then he suddenly caught himself. Fang Xiu was human; he shouldn’t be so blunt.
He hurriedly grabbed two more popcorn kernels and pretended it was just idle talk.
Fang Xiu responded, “You’re not wrong.”
Bai Shuangying: “?”
“Yes, humans polluted first, and those responsible deserve punishment. But you can’t expect the rest of humanity to just lie down and die because of a few bad apples.”
Fang Xiu stared at the end credits. “And the monster isn’t obligated to make exceptions for innocents either. It’s unrealistic to ask them to distinguish the innocent one by one, just like humans kill entire bug nests after being bitten by a poisonous one, instead of hunting the single culprit.”
“Like you said, it’s just a survival struggle. There is no right or wrong.”
That perspective didn’t seem like a typical human’s. Bai Shuangying thought, ‘Is my human always this understanding?’
Bai Shuangying: “Do you really think ‘a monster destroying the world’ is morally neutral?”
Fang Xiu scratched his head. “Depends on context. I don’t think this counts… it’s just a plot for a movie. If we’re talking about reality, it’s more like ‘humans are destroying the world’.”
So just theoretical. But Fang Xiu wasn’t blindly pro-human, which was a good sign.
“What if there was really an evil spirit that wanted to destroy the world?” Bai Shuangying asked.
Fang Xiu: “We try peaceful solutions first. If that fails, then a fair fight.”
Bai Shuangying hesitated, then pretended to casually ask, “What if I said I wanted to destroy the world?”
Fang Xiu fell silent.
A few seconds later, he said, “Did you see those people going to work at six this morning?”
Bai Shuangying nodded.
Fang Xiu: “I also have to head out at 6AM. I’d guess at least half of those people also want to destroy the world.”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
Fang Xiu sighed: “Even I’ve wished the world would end. People just fantasize. It’s not like they’ll act on it. Unless… can you?”
Bai Shuangying, honest as ever: “No.” Not yet.
Fang Xiu said earnestly, “You’re probably going through something seriously frustrating, and worse, you have no one to vent to, or even if you do, it’s useless. Fantasizing about destroying the world is normal. Even rabbits bite when cornered.”
Bai Shuangying: “…………”
He was speechless. And the worst part? Fang Xiu practically nailed it.
Fang Xiu tugged Bai Shuangying’s sleeve. “See, we’re not like the movies. For unlucky guys like us, destroying the world isn’t the goal. It’s the means!”
Bai Shuangying: “………………The means?”
“Yeah, the means to make you feel better.”
Fang Xiu said firmly, “So if you’re upset, just tell me. Maybe I can help cheer you up. If not, at least saying it out loud might help… Once your mood improves, you won’t need to destroy the world.”
This human’s warped logic is kind of amazing, Bai Shuangying thought. He stared at Fang Xiu’s sincere face, momentarily bewildered.
Finally, he switched topics. “So what was the appeal of the movie? I didn’t get it.”
Fang Xiu didn’t care about the plot, and the tactics in the movie weren’t impressive. Was there a deeper reason he chose it?
Fang Xiu: “To watch the leads fall in love. The romance was well done.”
Bai Shuangying polished off the remaining popcorn in one go and left.
“Hey, wait up—”
……
That afternoon, Bai Shuangying didn’t choose any flashy tourist attractions. Instead, he picked a quiet cat café. It was in a secluded location, and since most young people were at work, they were the only customers.
Bai Shuangying was pleased. Fang Xiu had dragged him to a crowded hotel at noon, and watching humans had worn him out.
This time, it was Fang Xiu’s turn to be shocked.
Everyone knew small animals hated evil spirits. In some regions, black cats and dogs were believed to repel them. But here, the café’s cats all flocked to Bai Shuangying, while Fang Xiu was the one they avoided.
Bai Shuangying sat calmly in a corner, his robe hem weighed down by cats. A few even climbed into his lap, nuzzling his sleeves. One bold tabby leapt onto his shoulder and pawed at his long hair.
The room buzzed with purring.
And Bai Shuangying looked relaxed, not at all cold like he was with humans. He let the cats mess up his robes, and didn’t even get mad when they licked his hair.
Fang Xiu edged closer in disbelief, and several cats moved away warily.
He had too much blood on his hands, and knew his aura was ominous. He’d expected this… but it still felt unfair. Bai Shuangying was a bona fide evil spirit!
Fang Xiu was baffled.
…Was Bai Shuangying catnip incarnate?
He did smell faintly herbal, but catnip wasn’t white, was it?
Fang Xiu cautiously asked, “Are you a cat demon king?”
Everyone knew cats were liquid. Maybe Bai Shuangying’s true form was an illusion.
Bai Shuangying: “I just like animals.”
“Humans are animals too.”
“Animals don’t cause as much trouble as humans.”
“…Fair.”
Fang Xiu crept closer to Bai Shuangying’s side, trying to pet the cats. The tabby hissed at him, but Bai Shuangying picked it up by the scruff and set it down in front of Fang Xiu.
Fang Xiu managed to pet it twice. The cat’s ears flattened into airplane ears and it trembled.
Fang Xiu sighed. “Forget it.”
Killing too many people had its downsides. He accepted it.
So in the end, Bai Shuangying spent the afternoon stroking cat fur, and Fang Xiu stroked Bai Shuangying’s sleeves. Both had a lovely time.
Until night fell.
Before heading to the pedestrian street, Fang Xiu specially bought two bouquets. Not wanting to trouble the florist, he didn’t specify funeral flowers, only requested something subdued and “Mid-Autumn-ish”.
Years had passed, but the street hadn’t changed much.
The electronics store still operated normally. It was right next to the street archway, easily visible upon entry. Beside it, the milk tea shop was still open, selling osmanthus tea.
The store clerk was plump and cheerful, claiming to be the assistant manager. On the photo board inside, there was a picture of Li Shuo.
Li Shuo had the same dyed hair, pulling faces at the camera with a wide grin.
“Can I leave these flowers here?” Fang Xiu pointed at the photo. “He was half a friend. I came to visit him.”
The clerk was surprised. “You knew my master?”
“Your master?”
“Yeah, he trained me years ago. He was really good with his hands. But one year during Mid-Autumn, he just stopped showing up. Couldn’t reach him by phone, no one at his place either. We all knew something happened but never found out what.”
The clerk looked excited. “What happened to Li Ge? Some said he was arrested, others said it was an accident. There were rumors everywhere.”
As expected, with Li Shuo’s family and girlfriend still around, the police wouldn’t publicize the truth.
Fang Xiu pressed his lips together. “He died saving someone.”
The clerk froze. “Then he should be honored as a hero. Why wasn’t it reported?”
Fang Xiu: “It’s complicated. Not really my place to reveal his personal business.”
“Fine. But Li Ge saving someone? Yeah, that sounds like him… Thanks for coming. Mind if I tell my boss? He always worried about this.”
The clerk sighed deeply, accepting the two bouquets.
“I don’t mind.”
The clerk nodded. “Bro, want to take a photo with your friend? Today’s on the house.”
“No need, we already took one.” Fang Xiu waved.
The clerk: “?”
He’d run the shop for years and never seen this guy before.
He was about to ask again, but Fang Xiu had already walked away.
……
At night, the pedestrian street looked just like during the ritual, except the people all had clear faces.
Fang Xiu quickly found the cotton candy stand and bought a big one for Bai Shuangying. He got one for himself too, preparing to watch the fireworks.
Bai Shuangying tried a bite. It was airy, lighter than a spirit soul. Curious, he glanced more at the stand, so Fang Xiu bought him a fruit-flavored one too.
“There’s plenty of money left. If you want anything, just say so.”
Fang Xiu gnawed on grilled squid, gazing at the clear night sky. The Mid-Autumn Festival had passed, but the moon was still full.
“I still have so many things I want to do. Why do we only get one day off?” he muttered.
Bai Shuangying: “Just finish the ritual.”
If Fang Xiu really could unseal him, he’d wait to destroy the world after Fang Xiu died.
Fang Xiu turned to him. “What if I die during the ritual?”
“I’ll keep helping you, you…”
“What if I die. Will you be sad?” Fang Xiu cut in.
Bai Shuangying looked at him. “No.”
He never lied in consideration of human feelings, past or present. More importantly, he knew he couldn’t fool Fang Xiu, a shrewd liar himself.
Fang Xiu smiled brightly. “That’s what I thought. That’s why I think you’re the perfect friend. Thanks for today. I had a great time.”
Bai Shuangying was puzzled. “Don’t humans prefer to be cared about?”
Fang Xiu crossed his index fingers over his chest, making an “X”.
“This is you and me.” He said softly, “I have my goals, you have your obsession. There’s a saying: ‘Humans and ghosts walk separate paths.’ We’re bound to part.”
“Right now, we’re just at the intersection. After we split, how you see me doesn’t really matter. We’ll never meet again, Bai Shuangying.”
Bai Shuangying disliked such absolute statements.
He thought for a moment. “Maybe you’ll return to the world of the living… and die violently. Then you’ll become a vengeful ghost. We could still meet.”
Fang Xiu: “…Thanks, but I don’t think I’ll die violently.”
He curled his crossed fingers. “I’ll tell you a secret. There’s a special thing about the intersection, only humans know it.”
Bai Shuangying silently watched the two fingers.
Fang Xiu smiled. “Two fingers close together, the intersection is warm. It makes people feel safe.”
Maybe Bai Shuangying only followed him for delicious souls, but Fang Xiu didn’t mind. By now, his ghost wasn’t just an observer. It truly felt like they were walking together.
It was a wonderful feeling, and Fang Xiu hated to part with it. If Bai Shuangying were sad about their parting, it’d make things harder.
His ghost being this heartless. It was perfect.
It was like writing a farewell letter in advance. One he’d never see a reply to. So he could write all his secrets, regrets, and wishes freely.
Bai Shuangying said nothing, and the fireworks never bloomed in the sky.
The cotton candy vendor finally couldn’t hold back. “Young man, waiting for fireworks? There won’t be any this year.”
Fang Xiu was shocked. “Why…?!”
Vendor: “Fire safety concerns.There’s nothing we can do.”
Fang Xiu looked utterly dejected. He’d waited over an hour for this!
As it got late, he bought two last cotton candies. As usual, he handed the first to Bai Shuangying,but his ghost didn’t take it.
Bai Shuangying still couldn’t fully grasp what Fang Xiu meant by “feeling safe”, but he’d been thinking hard.
He used to know Fang Xiu was an underworld assassin, targeting only the bloodstained living. He killed for gain, but generously shared living souls with Bai Shuangying.
Now, he knew Fang Xiu would share anything. This human just wanted them to enjoy their time together, until the end.
That felt far better than responding to worship.
His human asked for nothing in return, no offerings, no debts. He took the initiative to help Fang Xiu, and Fang Xiu happily thanked him. He did nothing, and Fang Xiu still wouldn’t resent him.
Why couldn’t other humans be like this? Bai Shuangying couldn’t figure it out, and didn’t want to.
But if only he was satisfied, it couldn’t be considered “getting along happily”.
He drew out his Peach Bone Evil. The streetlights gave the pale object a golden hue.
He stood behind Fang Xiu, and with the branch in his left hand, grasped Fang Xiu’s left hand. Bai Shuangying gently channeled Fang Xiu’s “spark”, and pointed toward the sky…
Crimson fireworks instantly burst across the sky, dazzling and brilliant, more beautiful than anything seen in the ritual.
The street buzzed with astonishment. Bai Shuangying sensed the stir among the Underworld enforcers, but didn’t care.
Let them punish him. He never cared about the Underworld’s approval.
Fang Xiu’s breath hitched, then quickened. He clutched Bai Shuangying’s sleeve so tightly that it hurt a little.
That should be enough, Bai Shuangying thought.
“This won’t do,” Fang Xiu said.
He turned, gaze burning into Bai Shuangying. “After today, I’ll want even more.”
The author has something to say:
So they ended up on a date for a whole chapter and a half (……
After everyone finished breakfast, the paper figure inserted a thick, blood-red incense stick into the censer in the center of the courtyard.
The incense gave off a strong woody fragrance that made people feel slightly dizzy. Smoke curled up in thin wisps, forming a misty doorway in the air.
The paper figure waved its hand dejectedly, and the door swung open, revealing a storeroom inside.
Although called a “storeroom”, it actually resembled a museum in an old building.
There were no windows, only four walls painted in vermillion. Neatly arranged gilded copper lamps hung on the walls, and every few steps there was a tall standing copper lamp, bathing the entire space in flickering warm light.
All sorts of magic weapons were placed on separate stone pedestals, lined up in rows that extended far into the distance. Next to each magic weapon was a handwritten note in brush calligraphy, which was clearly visible.
Fang Xiu glanced around. The Underworld certainly had its own cunning ways… These implements only came with a description of their abilities, with no ratings given.
“Hey, this is nice.” The first thing Blondie took a fancy to S a painting of an imperial concubine.
The woman in the painting had eyes like silk, utterly bewitching. According to the description, it was somewhat like the “Mirror of Lust*”, which could offer a perfect yet illusory land of tender pleasure.
*This comes from the novel “Dream of the Red Chamber” where the character Jia Rui fell ill and bought a mirror from a Taoist priest. Looking into the mirror revealed his desire for his cousin’s wife and so he jumped into it to have sex with her. After doing this several times, he eventually got trapped inside the mirror and perished.
Fang Xiu just thought this thing was as useless as a scrap of paper. The woman in the painting wasn’t even as beautiful as his ghost.
Blondie turned to the paper figure. “You said that the treasures will bind to us absolutely. If we survive the sacrificial ritual, can we take them out with us?”
The paper figure was speechless. “When I said complete binding, obviously you can take them away.”
“But because they’re fully bound, only you can use them. They can’t be given to anyone else. And once you die, the Underworld will send someone to retrieve them.”
Blondie clicked his tongue and took that painting of the lady down from the wall. “Then I’ll take this one.”
Inside the painting, the woman spun around with a flowery smile.
Everyone else: “…?”
Seriously? This thing was visibly useless.
Blondie chuckled sleazily. “Heh, if I pick a weapon or armor, it won’t be much use once I’m home. Might as well pick something I can enjoy for the rest of my life, like a genuine female immortal. This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”
The paper figure took the scroll and asked Blondie to drip a drop of his blood onto it. At once, the painting flashed red, then flew into Blondie’s hands as if it were affectionate.
Blondie stood there grinning foolishly. “I’m done. You guys hurry up, too.”
Jia Xu cleared his throat and turned to Fang Xiu with a “let’s break the ice” sort of posture. “Is it really okay for him to choose that?”
He didn’t lower his voice, so Blondie could hear him plainly.
Fang Xiu didn’t even look up. “What’s there to let or not let? He chose it himself. It’s none of my business.”
Jia Xu: “But the team’s combat strength needs to be maintained…”
Fang Xiu turned to Blondie. “Du Zhichao, what’s your father’s name?”
Blondie was caught off guard. “Huh? My dad’s name is Du Baocai.”
…That was the same name as the drug dealer who ran over Guan He’s younger brother. Guan He’s whole body trembled.
He was about to say something, but Fang Xiu pressed a hand on his shoulder and looked at Jia Xu nonchalantly. “See? His father’s not named Fang Xiu. Everyone chooses their own path. I have no standing to educate him.”
With that, he ignored Jia Xu’s reaction and pushed Guan He away.
Guan He’s eyes were slightly red, and he forced himself to hold back his emotions. “Fang Ge, what exactly is going on?”
“I was curious about the criteria for grouping the sacrifices. Mai Zi and Lao Mian ended up together, and Lao Jin’s group got lumped together as well. It’s unlikely to be coincidence.”
“So I guessed there must be some karmic link among us too. That hit-and-run driver’s last name was Du. Blondie happens to have the last name Du as well, so I asked.”
Facing Guan He, Fang Xiu said patiently, “Listen, Guan He… Du Baocai was executed by firing squad a long time ago. Your number one priority is surviving and getting out. Don’t provoke Blondie.”
Guan He took several deep breaths. “…Got it.”
Fang Xiu was right. The criminal back then had already been executed. The sacrificial ritual was now the main concern. He absolutely couldn’t let reckless revenge get in the way.
Guan He clenched his teeth, then continued looking for a suitable implement. He didn’t look in Blondie’s direction again.
To Fang Xiu’s surprise, the second person to pick out a magic weapon was Cheng Songyun.
She chose a string of sandalwood prayer beads. It contained a total of 108 beads, which could calm the mind and ward off illusions.
Fang Xiu silently praised her for genuinely using her brain.
For most people, these beads would be pretty useless, just a superstitious calming charm.
But Cheng Songyun’s strongest ability was summoning a vengeful ghost shield. The price for using it was suffering hallucinations. With this item, the ghost shield became much more practical.
Cheng Songyun nodded slightly toward Fang Xiu and accepted the beads.
Shortly after, Mei Lan chose a bamboo “Nectar Bowl”.
The bowl was only about the size of a teacup yet always filled with water inside. She could either keep it sealed or pour it out at will. The water could purify curses, which was highly compatible with her “Underwater Stealth” technique.
Guan He was overwhelmed by the choices and decisively asked Fang Xiu for help.
Fang Xiu helped him select a piece called “Black-Eye Veil”. If you covered your eyes with it, you could invite your ghost to possess you, allowing human and ghost to fuse as one.
Before this, the fearsome ghosts just possessed people in a simple sense; any ghostly spells had to be cast by the ghosts themselves. It was like a person riding a horse: The person is a person, the horse is a horse; you can cooperate, but you each have your own will.
Human-ghost integration was like person and horse merging into a centaur.
That way, Guan He could freely use the power of his child ghost without having to spend time communicating with it.
“This way, you won’t easily attract other ghosts, you can pass through walls, and you can also use the ‘Five Ghosts Relocation’ technique,” Fang Xiu explained carefully. “If we use a game analogy, you’ll be the perfect rogue class. Add on the Five-Emperors Coins and Jade Buddha, and you’ll be very safe.”
Guan He felt grateful but also a bit concerned.
Fang Xiu’s specialty was also stealth. They might end up overlapping roles. Guan He didn’t want Fang Xiu to sacrifice the team’s overall balance just for his safety.
So he asked, “But Fang Ge, aren’t you also a rogue? Actually, I’m in great shape, so I can fight on the front lines if…”
Fang Xiu cut him off. “I’m a DPS.”
Guan He: “?”
Fang Xiu repeated firmly, “I’m a DPS. Any problem with that?”
Guan He dropped the matter.
Maybe Fang Xiu had his eye on a weapon with very high destructive power, Guan He thought uncertainly.
Several hours passed, and only Fang Xiu and Jia Xu still hadn’t made a choice.
Blondie, hugging his treasured scroll, had yawned at least a hundred times. “Are you two done yet? I finished in under three minutes.”
Jia Xu had his eye on a flamboyant set of “Ghost-Summoning Flags” and a small bone die, and he kept wavering between the two, sweating anxiously.
Fang Xiu, meanwhile, strolled around at a leisurely pace, his expression unreadable. He calmly passed by all sorts of bizarre implements, stopping occasionally to read their descriptions. Those nearby could see Bai Shuangying quietly floating behind him, but they couldn’t hear his succinct commentary.
“Trash, trash, trash… Acceptable.”
Whenever he said “acceptable,” Fang Xiu would stop to take a closer look.
Considering Fang Xiu’s safety, Bai Shuangying especially paid attention to armor or similar items. Unfortunately, all of them were large and heavy, and Fang Xiu’s build couldn’t handle wearing them.
The same went for weapons. The best one here was a demon-slaying long spear, but it weighed a solid thirty-six jin*. At that point, who’d be swinging whom was anyone’s guess.
*About 48 lbs
Bai Shuangying had never felt so exasperated.
He kept his eyes on their surroundings, mechanically muttering “trash” or “acceptable”. Suddenly, he realized Fang Xiu hadn’t moved for a while.
Fang Xiu stood in front of a peach branch.
It was about the length of a short sword. The branch was as pale as bone, with no leaves. On its tip bloomed snow-white peach blossoms.
Peach Bone Evil, a ghost weapon. It could amplify the power of Yin energy and ghost spells, usable only by evil spirits.
Bai Shuangying said, “This is indeed quite good, but you can’t use it.”
While he was speaking, Fang Xiu picked up the peach branch of his own accord. It was very light and felt cold to the touch. The peach blossoms on top quivered slightly but didn’t shed any petals.
Though it looked pretty, the instant Fang Xiu took it in his hand, a wave of discomfort surged inside him. It felt as if his internal organs were sinking heavily, like he’d swallowed a stomachful of ice.
It truly was an ill-omened object meant only for evil spirits.
“I’ll take this,” Fang Xiu said. “We shared in defeating the Mid-Autumn E, so we should share the spoils equally. This thing is perfect for you. It’d be a crime not to take it.”
Bai Shuangying: “I don’t need it.”
“But you need something to protect yourself. If I want some magic weapon for myself, I can always grab one by force,” Fang Xiu said.
“But the items here can be taken back to the human world,” Bai Shuangying pointed out. He understood that Fang Xiu would want a tool that could be used both in the ritual and after returning to the mortal realm.
Fang Xiu didn’t listen at all. Holding the peach branch, he ran toward the entrance, imitating Bai Shuangying’s way of speaking. “I don’t need it!”
If Bai Shuangying were familiar with human society, he would’ve realized Fang Xiu’s behavior was like insisting on paying the bill after a meal.
Unfortunately, Bai Shuangying had never really mingled in the human world; his mind was already racing elsewhere…
On second thought, this was actually not a bad idea.
Peach Bone Evil was indeed powerful, and he could wield it. If he struck carefully, he wouldn’t alarm the Underworld too much.
…Which also meant he could protect Fang Xiu more effectively.
When Fang Xiu went to register his item with the paper figure, he ran into Jia Xu.
Fang Xiu was a bit surprised. Judging by Jia Xu’s personality, he’d assumed Jia Xu would pick the Ghost Summoning Flags, but he’d chosen that unremarkable-looking bone die instead.
Jia Xu looked quite pleased, as if he’d finally figured something out. Remembering the die’s ability, Fang Xiu sighed inwardly.
Jia Xu was definitely going to regret it, Fang Xiu thought.
Throughout the registration, the paper figure was calm, until it saw Fang Xiu approaching with the peach branch. It nearly had a breakdown. “You-You’re choosing that one? Th-that’s for evil spirits… Let me help you pick something else…”
Fang Xiu: “Can it form a contract with me?”
“You do have a bound evil spirit, so yes, but but but…”
Fang Xiu: “I get it. This is a valuable item.”
The paper figure said nothing.
Fang Xiu smiled and rubbed salt in the wound. “I’ll take this. I’m not switching. By the way, that earlier accident was your fault, right? Now that we’re taking away these magic weapons, your ‘Big Sis’ won’t make you foot the bill or anything?”
The paper figure’s eyes brimmed with tears. It sobbed quietly as it performed the blood-bond ritual for Fang Xiu.
“Wuwu, I’m going to have to work for free for five hundred years…” As they left the storeroom, Fang Xiu could still hear the paper figure wailing.
……
It was the last day of vacation, a day to visit the human world!
The paper figure repeatedly warned them not to talk about the sacrificial ritual. Ghost officers were watching in secret. Anyone who leaked the information would have the listeners’ memories erased, and the leaker would be severely punished.
Then the paper figure handed each person a cellphone and 10,000 yuan in spending money.
Everyone had something they wanted to do with this rare day in the human world. They decided to split up and make the most of it.
The moment Fang Xiu saw the blue sky, he sniffled. “This is wonderful…”
It was six in the morning, and the breakfast stalls along the street had all opened. Smelling the aroma of fried pastries and egg-stuffed pancakes, Fang Xiu felt so emotional he nearly cried.
He’d deliberately skipped breakfast, planning to eat five meals today—hot pot, barbecue, stir-fries, desserts, everything.
Then he and Bai Shuangying could watch a movie and maybe tour the entire city. The amusement park and aquarium were both good options, or they could check out some local exhibits. By evening, he wanted to take Bai Shuangying to a real pedestrian street. Bai Shuangying had been curious about cotton candy before, and now his ghost could genuinely eat it…
Fang Xiu just wished there was 72 hours in a day.
He wiped his face twice and continued to soak in the view. Rows of leafy trees lined both sides of the street; some leaves had already turned golden. Steam rose lazily around the breakfast stalls, their scents mixed with the sweet fragrance of osmanthus flowers.
Seeing all the people coming and going, Fang Xiu pinched his arm, still feeling as if he were in a dream.
…The world of the living really was amazing.
Fang Xiu’s eyes grew a bit misty, and he blinked repeatedly to hold back tears.
Bai Shuangying’s attention, on the other hand, was elsewhere.
He’d gotten somewhat used to the style of that small pedestrian street from before, but everything before him now was wholly unfamiliar.
He saw no horses or wooden carts on the road; only a bunch of strange metal boxes zipping around. There were screens flashing everywhere, and the sunlight gleamed off towering skyscrapers with reflective glass walls, making him a bit dizzy.
An airplane roared across the sky, and Bai Shuangying looked up, staring intently at that iron “bird”. It was yet another thing he didn’t recognize. Centuries had passed, and the world had turned upside down.
So this was Fang Xiu’s world. Bai Shuangying thought he might understand Fang Xiu, but clearly there was much more he didn’t know.
This was troublesome, Bai Shuangying thought.
…In reality, Bai Shuangying rarely bothered to learn much of anything, nor did he like to think.
He was born with a natural grasp of heavenly laws, so there was no need for special study.
He also remembered human legends and tales, but to him, they were merely drifting sand across a timeless span of years. He knew them, but didn’t truly understand them.
But why would he ever need to understand humans?
To Bai Shuangying, humans were but ephemeral insects, their lives gone in a blink. Not just humans, even the gods above might be replaced after he daydreamed for a while.
All things were fleeting; thought or inquiry had no true meaning.
So, regarding the world around him, his usual attitude was “indifferent”.
If someone wished to speak with him, he’d do so if he felt like it. If no one bothered him, he’d just stare blankly. And if anyone dared to hurt him, he would simply destroy them.
Before the “sealing incident”, that was how he lived, plain and simple.
…Now the downside of not thinking much was catching up to him.
In order to break his seal, he had to “understand Fang Xiu” before the eight sacrificial rituals were over.
The great Bai Shangshen, who had daydreamed away most of his existence and still had a 90% brand-new brain, had no choice but to work at full capacity analyzing this human.
Fang Xiu didn’t notice the lag in his ghost’s thoughts.
Overjoyed, he directly grabbed Bai Shuangying by the wrist.
“We have a whole day!” His voice rose with excitement. “Let’s go! I’ll treat you to some earthly foods. Eating some junk food once in a while should be fine, right?”
Bai Shuangying: “Mm.”
“Then afterwards I’ll look up some nearby attractions. You can pick whichever ones interest you the most…”
“Fang Xiu.”
“Hmm?”
“You know, the Underworld doesn’t forbid normal contact. You can get in touch with your human friends.”
He hoped to use that to learn about Fang Xiu’s social connections and piece together Fang Xiu’s past.
Fang Xiu gave a slightly sheepish smile. “I don’t really have any friends…”
Realizing how depressing that sounded, he quickly added, “I mean, there are people I can call, but I don’t want to bother them. Today, let’s just hang out by ourselves. With you around, that’s more than enough.”
Bai Shuangying couldn’t think of a response to that.
Excellent. He already wasn’t great at understanding human hearts, and now here was someone whose feelings might be more complex than he had imagined.
Bai Shuangying sighed. “Is there anything in particular you really want to do?”
“How about a movie this morning, then that big pedestrian street tonight. You can decide what we do in the afternoon, okay?” Fang Xiu lit up instantly.
“A movie?”
“Think of it like a moving photograph, or a super realistic stage performance,” Fang Xiu explained excitedly. “We’ll watch it in 3D on a giant screen. It’s very immersive.”
Bai Shuangying had at least heard of stage dramas. He considered for a moment, then asked, “What story does it tell?”
Fang Xiu showed him the phone. “There’s a good disaster movie playing now. Basically an evil monster arrives and wipes out humanity.”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
The “evil monster” that was about to destroy the human world Bai Shuangying: “?”
If not for the ugly giant beast on the poster, he might have suspected Fang Xiu was probing him.
“You enjoy watching the world get destroyed?” Bai Shuangying asked, surprised.
Fang Xiu scratched his head. “Not exactly. I just enjoy the overall vibe. You’ll understand once you see it.”
“…All right.”
And thus began the event that would later become famous throughout the Underworld: their “first date”.
The author has something to say:
What’s going on, it only got to the part where they just started dating. Come on, isn’t this whole sequence basically just a date? (…
They’re probably going on another date tomorrow too. Date, date like there’s no tomorrow (.
God Bai be like:
Congratulations on memorizing the human multiplication table. Now you can go prove the Riemann Hypothesis…
A single stone cast could stir up a thousand ripples. In the small courtyard, the atmosphere grew tense in an instant.
Having “teammates who were just some unlucky strangers from all over the country” was one thing but having “teammates who were murderers” was on a whole other level.
This time, even the usually chatty Jia Xu didn’t retort…
The fact that the Mid-Autumn E “cleanses evil people using taboos” was laid bare before them, and all the teams they had met along the way acted so human-like. It would be suspicious to keep denying it under these circumstances.
Fang Xiu toyed with the hem of his own ghost’s sleeve, appearing at ease. “When I was nine, I accidentally knocked someone off a cliff and also caused my grandma to die of anger. That means I’ve got two lives on my back, right?”
“Xiao Guan already confessed the life he owes. He ran a red light with his younger brother, causing his younger brother to die in a car accident.”
Hearing that even a “cause of death” like that counted, the tension in the courtyard eased just a little. Jia Xu clearly relaxed; Blondie clicked his tongue twice, while Mei Lan lowered her head deeply.
Peering through his slightly long bangs, Fang Xiu carefully scanned the courtyard.
After a brief silence, Cheng Songyun slowly took a breath. “Fine, I’ll spill too.”
“I couldn’t stand my husband and wanted to teach him a lesson. I found a way to make him fall down the stairs, but he ended up dying from the fall.”
Her gaze fell to the edge of the table, her vocal cords strained by remorse.
Fang Xiu could see that Cheng Songyun still harbored guilt over it.
Next to speak was Mei Lan, her eyes somewhat red. “I messed around with the family car and broke the brakes. It caused my parents to both… to both get into an accident.”
After saying this, she bowed her head again, wringing her hands anxiously.
Blondie swallowed the last bite of his fried dough stick, looking like he was just chiming in for fun. “As for me, back in my village, I got into a big brawl and ended up beating someone to death.”
Fang Xiu was curious. “The police didn’t catch you?”
“We were only eleven or twelve at the time, and besides, a bunch of people were fighting. No one knew it was me who delivered the lethal blow. In the end, each family threw in some money, and that was that.” Blondie sounded totally unconcerned.
The group fell silent for a while, all eyes drifting to Jia Xu.
As the last to confess, Jia Xu swept his gaze around. He looked rather regretful. “My ex-girlfriend killed herself because of me, and the Underworld probably pinned that on me.”
Mei Lan frowned. “What do you mean ‘killed herself because of you’?”
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I didn’t do anything to her.”
Jia Xu quickly raised both hands in defense. “We broke up on normal terms, but she refused to accept it. She already had depression, so this is basically a misfortune for me, okay?”
Fang Xiu said nothing, merely squinting at Jia Xu with a smile. Under the pressure of that smile, Jia Xu finally felt uneasy and reluctantly added, “Fine, I’ll admit it… I did say some pretty harsh things at the time.”
“But I had no choice. You guys don’t know how much money she tried to get from me. I was struggling too.”
Blondie: “Got it. A sugar daddy wanted out, so she went with the whole crying, fighting, threatening to hang herself routine?”
Jia Xu didn’t deny it. He simply changed the subject. “No wonder we ended up in the same team. Looks like we’re all under the category of ‘accidental homicide’.”
Fang Xiu paused fiddling with his sleeve. “Makes sense.”
…Or not, Fang Xiu thought to himself.
Setting aside everyone else, Fang Xiu’s crime was definitely not an “accidental homicide”.
He himself hadn’t told the truth, so others might not have told the whole truth either. Observing them in turn, Fang Xiu had a decent guess: aside from Guan He and Cheng Songyun, the other three more or less were hiding something.
Best to leave it at that for now. There was plenty of time in the future.
Fang Xiu stood up. “I’m going back to get a good night’s sleep. If the sky falls, don’t bother me.”
Bai Shuangying initially assumed Fang Xiu was just making excuses; unexpectedly, the guy really did go back to shower and then slept like the dead. He skipped both lunch and dinner, and still hadn’t woken up when the sun went down, clearly planning to sleep straight into the next day.
Sure, he was low on energy after that ritual, but this was excessive!
Bai Shuangying, lying around on the ceiling, had a brand-new understanding of how delicate this person could be.
He had to admit that after baring it all that one time, Fang Xiu slept much more unrestrainedly.
He was sprawled on the bed at an odd angle, half the blanket tangled around his legs. His oversized red T-shirt had ridden up at the hem, revealing an abdomen covered in knife scars.
His messy bangs had fallen aside, exposing an innocent-looking face. Watching him, Bai Shuangying couldn’t help recalling his concerns about the seal…
Last time the seal loosened, Fang Xiu desperately craved a friend’s companionship, and Bai Shuangying had touched Fang Xiu’s head.
In the past few days, he’d been staying by Fang Xiu’s side as a “friend”, and he had patted Fang Xiu’s head many times, yet the seal never budged.
He thought perhaps the physical contact wasn’t the issue; the problem might lie in the notion of “friend”.
Bai Shuangying had never had a friend before. He had no clue where it all went wrong. Hence, when the Mid-Autumn E was broken, he deliberately went over to observe.
That E had a lot to do with the concept of “friend”, so surely he could learn something. But after a good look, he only felt even more perplexed.
Li Shuo and Lin Ge barely had anything in common. They didn’t spend all day glued to each other, nor did they keep in constant correspondence. All they did was share a meal on Mid-Autumn Festival, which was less intimate than what he and Fang Xiu had.
…Could a “real friend” require dying together?
Bai Shuangying did recall that saying, “May we die on the same year, same month, and same day*.” But Fang Xiu didn’t seem to want to drag him into death together. Whenever something happened, Fang Xiu was always the first to charge forward.
*This line is from Romance of the Three Kingdoms, where Liu Bie, Guan Yu, and Zhang Fei became sworn brothers.
…Or maybe the seal’s loosening was due to some other factor?
Bai Shuangying had never encountered such a troublesome case. He continued staring down at Fang Xiu’s face, as if trying to extract answers from the person’s flesh. But in his heart, he knew that as a complete novice in the metaphysics, Fang Xiu was probably even more confused than he was.
Under Bai Shuangying’s scrutiny, Fang Xiu murmured in his sleep, “Lamb skewers… grilled cold noodles… Bai Shuangying, you should have some too…”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
He suddenly had a bizarre thought.
Li Shuo and Lin Ge always had a Mid-Autumn meal together. Fang Xiu liked to prepare food for him. Could it be that Fang Xiu really just wanted “to eat with a friend”?
This is someone who would con a ghost immortal for a bit of interest; could his wish be that simple?
Crack.
An invisible chain snapped in response. This time, eight entire chains broke at once.
Bai Shuangying: “???”
Eight chains? Eight chains…!
Shocked, Bai Shuangying nearly fell off the ceiling.
He quickly clutched his collar, counting again and again. There was no mistake; exactly eight of them.
So his previous assumptions were wrong. The key to unsealing wasn’t about “acting like a friend in Fang Xiu’s presence” or “earning Fang Xiu’s approval as a friend”.
After all, this time he hadn’t even touched Fang Xiu. Fang Xiu himself was sound asleep, clueless about any external changes.
But the root cause of the unsealing still seemed to lie in Fang Xiu somehow.
Given the momentum, Bai Shuangying tried while the iron was hot. He floated off the ceiling and reached down to pat Fang Xiu’s head. He patted gently, then firmly, several times, but no more chains snapped.
Worse yet, Fang Xiu clutched at his sleeve, hugging it tightly in his sleep. “Cold noodles…”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
Bai Shuangying tugged at his sleeve but couldn’t free it.
Then Bai Shuangying made a huge mistake. He reverted to his true form and tried to flow out of Fang Xiu’s grip. But the moment his form changed, Fang Xiu felt the shift in texture, instinctively tightening his hold and hugging him with all four limbs.
Now Bai Shuangying had become a proper body pillow, locked in Fang Xiu’s arms. Fang Xiu even absentmindedly bit a piece of his true form, nibbling lightly with his teeth, seemingly quite pleased with the “taste”.
Bai Shuangying: “……”
Isn’t this guy supposed to be a light sleeper? For a moment, Bai Shuangying considered turning back into human form.
But then he remembered those eight broken chains.
It would be better to stay as he was. He shouldn’t use force or dwell on this disrespect. Let’s just consider it a reward for unlocking more of the seal, Bai Shuangying thought with an inward sigh, ceasing his struggles.
The bed was nice and soft, Fang Xiu’s body warm. Overall, it wasn’t the worst feeling.
……
Fang Xiu slept wonderfully.
Before sleeping, he’d been thinking about heading out and had compiled a list of foods he wanted to eat. So, sure enough, he dreamed about a bustling food street.
In that dream, Fang Xiu ate to his heart’s content.
He loved glutinous rice dumplings best: they were cold and soft, with a unique texture. But no matter how he bit down, he couldn’t tear off a piece. His jaw started to feel a bit sore.
In a daze, Fang Xiu rolled over, tugging at his blanket.
Hmm, did the Underworld upgrade his bedding? The blanket was as light as goose down, silky as water, just like Bai Shuangying’s true form…
Fang Xiu: “……”
Wait, that texture was a little too similar. With trepidation he opened his eyes.
Sure enough, the thing covering him wasn’t a blanket but a certain liquified ghost.
Bai Shuangying, still in his true form, lay there in a defeated sprawl. Amid those swirling, shifting blotches of color, the single crimson mole stood out starkly.
Noticing Fang Xiu was awake, that mole inched closer, holding countless unspoken words in its silence.
Fang Xiu slowly spat out the part of the “blanket” he was biting, forced to learn the true ingredients of his “glutinous rice dumpling”.
The patch of Bai Shuangying’s body he’d been chewing on was now warm from his breath…
Luckily, Bai Shuangying didn’t immediately revert to human shape. He slowly oozed back up to the ceiling before taking on his human form.
One corner of his sleeve was crumpled and slightly damp.
Fang Xiu blushed a bit: “……”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
Fang Xiu rubbed his face, acting as though nothing had happened. “Good morning.”
Bai Shuangying: “…Mm.”
He didn’t seem inclined to pursue the matter any further. What a relief.
Then again, Bai Shuangying had been on the ceiling, out of reach, so obviously he had approached first so they were equally responsible!
Cheered by this reasoning, Fang Xiu jumped out of bed and did his usual inventory.
His jade Buddha amulet was still intact; the meal card unscathed; the small token and bagua mirror weren’t too useful and could be turned into meal card points.
He’d previously turned the Five-Emperor coins from Yan Jing into a longevity lock for Guan He with Bai Shuangying’s help. Lao Jin’s coin had been destroyed. Now the ones he carried belonged to Da Shun and Ma Zi.
Fang Xiu gave his Comrade Bai a hopeful look.
With no real emotion, Bai Shuangying explained, “The Five-Emperor coins bind themselves to their master. But since you brought them back to the Tower, you can ask the paper figure to cleanse them for you.”
“They only confuse weaker evil spirits and can only partially control them. Best used for self-defense.”
Fang Xiu jiggled the coins. “Seems like I don’t really need them.”
Might as well give them to Cheng Songyun and Guan He. At least those two had been honest in confessing their sins.
Bai Shuangying frowned slightly. “Keeping them could still be useful. Why not hold on to them?”
Fang Xiu: “Because I have you. Your stealth is pretty incredible.”
Bai Shuangying stopped frowning. “True… They’re not all that useful.”
Fang Xiu couldn’t help but chuckle. Then he took out two final items of “loot”: a small, bloodstained whistle and a Polaroid photo that might as well be a cursed object.
One was Bai Shuangying’s first gift to him, the other was a memento from their first shopping trip.
Technically, he could have used the whistle or the token to summon evil spirits when he was fooling Lao Jin, but he couldn’t bring himself to use the whistle. Bai Shuangying had personally given it to him.
In the end, Fang Xiu propped up the photo with the whistle, placing them on the little altar table near the room’s door.
Right beside that paper flower from the temple fair.
While he’d been asleep, the flower vase had been swapped from a soda bottle to a white porcelain one they’d picked out together, which really classed it up.
Fang Xiu carefully adjusted the angle of the photo. Though it looked scary on closer inspection, at a quick glance it had a certain warmth.
Nice, Fang Xiu thought.
After watching for a bit, Bai Shuangying leaned over and adjusted the paper flower a fraction, letting it tilt toward the photo.
Yes, that looked better, Bai Shuangying thought.
……
That morning, the paper figure didn’t come knocking. Around breakfast time, Fang Xiu stepped out with Bai Shuangying.
No sooner had they emerged than they saw the paper figure in the courtyard. Its entire body was creased, the paint on its face had run from crying making it look extremely fragile, as if even a slight breeze could blow it away.
Seeing Fang Xiu, the paper figure trembled and gave him a bow.
“I-I wronged you. I was the one who tampered with the Mid-Autumn ritual… sorry, so sorry.”
It seemed its boss, big sister, had punished it severely, considering its upright attitude.
Fang Xiu pondered for a few seconds, then smiled. “Your boss and I have already discussed compensation, and you’ve been punished. Since you’ve apologized, let’s call it even.”
Overjoyed, the paper figure bobbed its head frantically. “Er, I-I see now that my judgment was poor, and you truly have a kind heart!”
It had expected Fang Xiu would give it a hard time, given his cunning nature. Who would’ve thought he’d be so magnanimous?
If Fang Xiu was willing to forgive, Lady A’Shou probably wouldn’t punish it further… thinking back on being crumpled into a ball and kicked around at dawn, the paper figure felt like crying all over again.
Fang Xiu beamed. “No need to be so formal. Anyway, about my reward for dealing with the Mid-Autumn E, is it ready?”
The paper figure straightened, leaping onto the incense burner. “The Mid-Autumn E is dispelled. The one who dispelled it shall receive extra rewards—”
“It was dispelled by Fang Xiu, and we have a substantial prize—”
That said, it ignored the other people’s reactions and returned to Fang Xiu. “Which anomaly would you like to pick? If you’re not sure, I can explain them all…”
“I want Li Shuo’s fire-starting ability,” Fang Xiu declared.
Remembering what happened with the Weishan E, the paper figure was more composed this time. “Well… please think carefully.”
“Li Shuo controlled flames expertly because of his entanglement with the Mid-Autumn E. If you take that power now, at most you’ll only be able to produce fire for light or ignition. It won’t be enough to harm evil spirits.”
Guan He had learned his lesson and kept quiet.
But Blondie couldn’t help speaking up. “Exactly, exactly. If you want to light a fire, just buy a lighter. Right?”
Having learned from the last ritual, Jia Xu didn’t openly butt heads with Fang Xiu. He turned to Mei Lan instead. “I feel that ‘imprisoning evil spirits’ or ‘forcing them to fight each other’ would be more practical than conjuring fire.”
Mei Lan quietly turned away, carrying her bowl a bit farther.
“It’s enough if I can produce a flame. I just think it’s really cool,” Fang Xiu replied with perfect seriousness.
The paper figure didn’t ask him to wait this time. Clearly, it had long prepared a thorough plan.
Its finger tapped Fang Xiu’s left arm again, leaving a crimson Li trigram symbol. Like the previous Kan trigram, it sank into Fang Xiu’s skin after a few seconds.
When bestowing the power, the paper figure explained in detail, “The Mid-Autumn E is of the fire element. All you have to do is picture a flame in your mind, and you can summon ‘ghostfire’. It can ignite from thin air and won’t go out when doused with water… but be careful… If you’re too close, you can still get burned.”
“And just like your other ability, this skill will vanish once the rituals are over.”
Fang Xiu spread out his right hand, imagining a Mid-Autumn firework.
Instantly, a tiny flame flickered in his palm. It popped in the air like a firework, scattering countless sparks of scarlet light.
“It’s pretty much what I had in mind… This is so cool.” Fang Xiu lowered his hand, satisfied.
The paper doll forced a bitter smile. “As long as you’re happy.”
“By the way, your Qiankun Pouch is in production. We’ll hand it over to you before the next ritual begins,” the paper figure added.
With everything nicely arranged, Fang Xiu didn’t have anything else to say.
The paper figure then moved back to the incense burner, announcing loudly as usual, “Congratulations to everyone! The second ritual is now over, so please rest at your leisure!”
“After breakfast, we’ll open up the treasure vault for you all. Each person may pick out one ideal magic weapon. That weapon will be fully bound to you, and no one else can steal it!”
Hearing mention of magic weapons, everyone’s spirits lifted. Fang Xiu sat down at the table, happily enjoying his meal.
Jia Xu helped himself to a bowl of shrimp wontons, sneaking glances at Fang Xiu. He noticed Fang Xiu wasn’t taking any special measures against him, as if yesterday’s unpleasantness were forgotten.
Fang Xiu was indeed shrewd enough to know it was best not to divide the team. But at the same time, Fang Xiu seemed less inclined to conceal his own capabilities, not at all letting Jia Xu take the leader’s seat.
That wouldn’t do.
Jia Xu was fully aware of how important leadership was. If he was marginalized, he’d end up as some grunt. And once he was stuck doing errands, he’d be forced onto the front lines, facing the greatest danger directly.
He’d hustled for years to get where he was and lucked into a big break, finally achieving his current social status. He couldn’t let a woman bring him down. Otherwise, his life’s efforts would be a laughingstock.
But he’d put in almost no effort in the first two rituals and still got through them safely, even receiving compensation from the Underworld.
Lady Luck was clearly on his side, Jia Xu thought.
He simply hadn’t done his best in the first two rituals. Next time, he would show his true skills and reassert himself as the team’s leader.
At another table.
“What are you thinking about?”
Bai Shuangying, having just broken eight chains, found Fang Xiu even more intriguing.
“I’m thinking that the Mid-Autumn Festival is just over, which makes it perfect timing for something.” Fang Xiu’s mouth was stuffed with flatbread, so his words were a bit muffled.
“This season is ideal for pruning. Some branches grow too crooked and will only hinder the plant’s growth.”
The author has something to say:
Next chapter: a date!!!
No wonder it’s a three-day break; it really feels like they’ve had a long time to relax. Also, with the six-person team lasting this long, it’s about time for some casualties (……
Current Xiao Fang: My own ghost tastes so good, nom nom.
Future Xiao Fang: My own ghost tastes so good, smooch smooch.
Recalling what had just happened, the ghost immortal A’Shou was furious.
She had been carefully inspecting a seal in her room when the paper figure Dian’er suddenly rushed in wailing like a ghost, shouting that the Mid-Autumn E had been broken.
A’Shou was stunned.
The Mid-Autumn E and the “half-step ghost immortal” Li Shuo were interlinked, bound by cause and effect. They were strangely compatible. If Li Shuo consumed enough living souls to build his strength, he could easily ascend to ghost immortal.
To destroy the Mid-Autumn E, the sacrifices would have to survive days of carnage, see through the real form of the “Mid-Autumn E”, discover Li Shuo behind the scenes early on, and then deal with him somehow.
In previous rituals, the offerings never got close to figuring out the real nature of the Mid-Autumn E, much less discovering Li Shuo.
And now Li Shuo was just a step away from becoming an immortal. A’Shou thought surely no one could break the Mid-Autumn E at this point. She was already poised to welcome a newly born ghost immortal at the end of this ritual.
…Yet Dian’er was now claiming that the Mid-Autumn E had been destroyed?
No, no, no—something else was more important.
Beneath her bridal veil, A’Shou’s brows knit. “Since the ‘E’ is broken, you should go meet the sacrifices. What are you sniveling to me for?”
Dian’er, kneeling on the ground, opened its mouth several times but couldn’t get the words out. Finally, in a small voice, he said, “Li… Li Shuo wanted to give it all up on his own, so I used the Underworld’s detection spell to provoke him a bit…”
“…You did what?!” A’Shou shot to her feet.
She was already tall to begin with. Adding her thick-soled wedding shoes, she stood at least 1.84 meters tall. She halted in front of the paper figure, leaning forward slightly, her blood-red veil swaying ominously.
The paper figure didn’t dare lift its head. “Li Shuo must have been confused, or else what ghost wouldn’t want to become an immortal… Once he came to his senses, he’d surely be grateful to us. My Lady, he just needed this final ritual… My Lady…”
A’Shou let out a furious laugh. “There are countless battles where the underdog emerges victorious. Have you ever seen a general throwing a tantrum, refusing to accept a fair defeat?”
“All things follow their destined course. If you lose, you lose. Forcibly meddling in karma goes against the Heavenly Way. Even if Li Shuo had ascended, he’d be a crippled ‘fake immortal’ from the start!”
Seeing the ghost immortal enraged, the paper figure shook from head to toe. “I-I-I failed anyway. The spell got broken… Please spare me, my lady. I was just confused for a moment…”
Dian’er’s spell was broken?
A’Shou paused.
Though Dian’er was rather useless, the ghost officers in the Tower had at least been carefully vetted. They weren’t so easy to handle.
After thinking a moment, she said, “Go to the ‘Temple of Ten Thousand E’s’ and reflect. Come to me tomorrow to receive your punishment. As for the Mid-Autumn E’s sacrifices, I’ll fetch them myself.”
With that, she stepped right over the paper figure, flattening Dian’er into a thin sheet. The paper figure didn’t dare complain, plastered to the ground, not moving for a long time.
……
Now, A’Shou finally saw the one who had undone the E.
She recognized the name “Fang Xiu”. Apparently he was the one who had solved the Weishan E too.
A young man dressed in red, with quite a decent face, though so thin he looked like a penniless scholar. She could pick him up with one hand.
A’Shou observed him for a while and detected no cultivation or sign of magic on Fang Xiu… He was ordinary as could be, neither a hidden master of the metaphysics nor a natural spirit medium who could perceive the Underworld.
Could it be that Dian’er’s spell had been broken by Li Shuo himself?
Very likely. By now, Li Shuo was practically a half-step ghost immortal. It was a pity he’d completely disappeared, leaving her unable to question him.
All she could do was explain the situation to Fang Xiu and offer an apology. Who would have guessed that the moment Fang Xiu heard the word “compensation”, he perked up on the spot?
“Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation? Come on, let’s have a good talk!”
He spun around sharply, his eyes brighter than any light bulb in the living world.
A’Shou: “……”
A’Shou: “Fine. I’ll take you all back to the Tower first. Then we can discuss further.”
Indeed, Dian’er’s misconduct was the Underworld’s mistake. This human might be shamelessly greedy, but he had a point, so she’d accept it.
Fang Xiu thought for a moment. “You can take them back first. Let’s talk here.”
It was early morning in the human world now. The sun had just risen, the warm rays shining in through the window, slanting across Fang Xiu’s feet.
Bathed in the sunlight, the ceramic Bodhisattva’s features glinted faintly, as though dawn light had formed drops of dew.
Even though the room was cramped and run-down, and even though a scorched corpse lay at his feet, Fang Xiu wanted to linger a little longer.
A’Shou nodded. With a casual closing of her five fingers, the other five people in the small apartment vanished in an instant, leaving only Fang Xiu.
After sending them away, she asked offhandedly, “Where’s your ghost?”
Fang Xiu reflexively looked to Bai Shuangying, and A’Shou followed his gaze. She noticed a vague silhouette in the corner. The concealment was decently done, neither too weak nor strong enough to fool her.
Like an animal trying to hide in a bush with its tail still sticking out.
“My ghost is a bit shy,” Fang Xiu said, scratching his nose.
A’Shou: “…Your ghost?”
What an odd way to phrase it.
Fang Xiu didn’t seem to get the point. “Sure, my ‘seductive ghost’.”
Oh, a “seductive ghost”. A’Shou remembered.
This kid had probably been bewitched; that was why he spoke so intimately. It wasn’t strange for a seductive ghost to have some beguiling illusion magic. If it wanted to hide, let it hide.
Fang Xiu, however, could see Bai Shuangying’s form clearly, along with the distortions around him for concealment, something A’Shou couldn’t discern nearly as well.
Bai Shuangying’s expression showed annoyance, not shock or panic. He didn’t seem to like A’Shou much, but that was it.
In fact, it felt more like the opposite: those pale eyes kept glancing over from time to time, as though wanting to say something but hesitating.
Fang Xiu gave a little smile, winking at Bai Shuangying.
Then he turned to A’Shou. “Anyway, never mind my ghost. Let’s talk about compensation… What were you going to offer us before?”
A’Shou answered honestly, “I will open the Support Magic Weapon Vault for you to pick one protective magic weapon each. Also, I’ll grant you all another day of rest.”
“You mean that ‘cheating’ was controlling Li Shuo to go berserk, right? Without his timely recovery, we’d all have been done for. That really breaks the ritual’s rules.”
Fang Xiu wasn’t lying, but he omitted Bai Shuangying’s involvement. A few steps away, Bai Shuangying visibly relaxed.
So easy to read, Fang Xiu thought with amusement.
He continued, “Underworld magic weapons for protection aren’t that hard to obtain. Last time, I got a Jade Buddha and an Earth Knocking Cauldron. This time I snagged two Five-Emperor Coins… Simply handing us magic weapons is a bit lacking as compensation.”
A’Shou: “???”
No, no, no. An ordinary person can’t just “grab” things like that. Besides, looting is hardly the same as formally choosing what you want.
Before she could retort, Fang Xiu changed direction. “You see how easy it is to grab magic weapons. If we pick some perfect protective items, then someone else comes along and snatches them, we’ll have lost out.”
A’Shou considered. “I can apply a special binding so no one can take them from you.”
Fang Xiu nodded, still muttering, “That’s only slightly better than owning a magic weapon that’s sworn to a master. You people use the ritual to nurture ghost immortals, which is already quite excessive, and I tried my best to break the E yet nearly got screwed over by the Underworld. That’s a pretty half-hearted reward…”
“What exactly do you want?” He obviously knew quite a bit, so A’Shou lowered her voice.
Fang Xiu: “I’m not sure about the others, but as for me, I’d like a Qiankun Bag*, something that can hold lots of stuff and can be sewn onto the inside of a pocket. Can you get me one?”
*A spatial pouch. It’s a bag that has a vast space and can store almost an unlimited number of things inside it, but its size is that of a regular bag.
With that, he concluded seriously, “You could call it a customized item for the dead.”
A’Shou: “…”
Such a detailed request. How annoying this person was.
If this kid actually made it through all eight rituals, who knew what he might ask for then?
She thought back. The Support Magic Weapon Vault indeed didn’t have something like that. But it wasn’t as if Fang Xiu was asking for anything outrageous…
He hadn’t demanded some big weapon that would unbalance the ritual. All he wanted was to store the things he carried. It was more for defense against other humans than against evil spirits.
Given that this kid was the one who solved the Mid-Autumn E, making him the biggest victim in this affair, A’Shou stayed silent for a few seconds, then agreed.
Fang Xiu let out a relieved breath. “Now about my second magic weapon…”
“What second one?”
“Huh? I solved the E, yet I only get the same single item as everyone else? That’s not fair, logically or emotionally. I was on the front line, so I should at least get one extra.”
A’Shou: “……”
A’Shou: “…Go on.”
If this kid tried to name some ridiculous price, she’d definitely teach him a lesson.
Fang Xiu scratched his head apologetically. “I don’t mean to trouble you all the time, so how about I just pick it out with everyone else when we visit the Support Magic Weapon Vault?”
A’Shou pressed her lips together. Fine, she could tolerate that. She had to give him credit for being sensible enough not to push it further.
“Now that it’s settled, I’ll take you back…”
“Wait, I’m not done!” Fang Xiu interrupted.
“We’ve only discussed magic weapon so far. There’s still the matter of that ‘extra day off’.
“Look, the Disaster Relief Tower has no entertainment at all. For us humans, having one more day off there is basically no different from having none, so that’s not really fair.”
A’Shou: “……”
A’Shou: “…Go on.”
Fang Xiu looked up at her pitifully. “Hey, Boss Lady, can we go play outside?”
“No need to send us back to our real bodies. Just let us run around for a day. Let’s stay in this city, is that okay?”
A’Shou eyed him warily. “That’s all?”
“That’s all.” Fang Xiu nodded emphatically.
A’Shou clenched her teeth. “All right.”
She really didn’t want to keep haggling with this guy. She had the sense that the longer they talked, the more she’d lose out.
Besides, the ritual was indeed being held in the human world, so the sacrifices could freely move about among the living.
Their bodies were all Underworld constructs, so there was “nowhere to run and hide”. Plus, with the ritual under way, ghost officers were stationed around the region. Choosing this city made sense. It didn’t require much extra effort on the Underworld’s part.
Such a crafty brat. He always managed to push her right up to the point where she couldn’t reasonably refuse.
“You’re the best, Sister,” Fang Xiu said gratefully. “Just give me a few minutes, okay?”
Before A’Shou could respond, Fang Xiu snapped off a piece of Lao Jin, using it like a charcoal stick, and drew a circle around the corpse. “Bai Shuangying, don’t forget to pack it up—”
Sure enough, Fang Xiu’s ghost ambled over. Maintaining his clumsy concealment right under A’Shou’s eyes, he extracted the newly dead soul bit by bit, stowing it away in his arms.
A’Shou was at a complete loss for words.
It was like these two were reincarnations of a juicer, wringing out every last drop.
And the ghost was just like the human. Even with such a formidable ghost immortal (herself) standing there, that “seductive ghost” dared to overcome its apprehension for the sake of a meal.
The moment Lao Jin’s living soul was stripped away entirely, A’Shou couldn’t stand it anymore. She reached out, grabbed both of them, and hauled them back to the Disaster Relief Tower.
The abandoned apartment once again fell silent and empty.
After the tragedy, the so-called “Hoodlum Building” was officially condemned. The city government gave compensation to the owners and decided to demolish it soon. The only reason it hadn’t been torn down immediately was the influence of the Mid-Autumn E.
Now the entire building was utterly quiet. Forget any human bustle. You couldn’t even hear whispers of ghosts.
The bloodstained door trembled slightly and then went still again, suspended in the air.
Sunlight tinged red by dawn fell across the door, making everything look the same as before.
……
Disaster Relief Tower.
Fang Xiu lounged in the courtyard, looking relaxed and planning to have breakfast before returning to his room.
His mood couldn’t have been better…
He’d earned two more Five-Emperor Coins this time, and now the Underworld had promised him two new magic weapons. On top of that, he still had a new anomaly skill on the way.
It felt exactly like leveling up and waiting to claim your reward pack.
And it was only morning. The “full day of rest” would start tomorrow, plus the promised extra day after that. He effectively had three days off in total!
Most importantly, they no longer had to remain cooped up in this dreary courtyard. They could actually go back out into the human world for a bit!
The breakfast was bountiful. Dian’er was nowhere to be found, and the atmosphere felt quite relaxed. Humming a little tune, Fang Xiu picked up some steamed buns, swaying back and forth with contentment.
Meanwhile, Bai Shuangying was methodically preparing a “Lao Jin mooncake”, asking in a low voice, “How did you know to cover for me?”
His tone carried a slight haughtiness and a hint of satisfaction, as though saying, “Finally, Fang Xiu has caught on.”
Fang Xiu eyed him in surprise. “You’re a ghost belonging to the Underworld, and you stepped in to stop some Underworld agent’s sneaky ploy. Once the ritual’s over and I’m gone, wouldn’t they give you trouble?”
“That’s why you seemed anxious, wasn’t it?”
Bai Shuangying lowered his gaze slowly.
For some reason, Fang Xiu sensed a hint of dejection in his ghost.
Hurriedly, Fang Xiu added, “I realize now I misunderstood you at first. Actually, your support magic is really strong. If not for you, I’d definitely have died there this time.”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
He turned away, quietly nibbling on the Lao Jin mooncake.
Oh well, never mind. He himself had also played weak in front of the ghost immortal.
It was more important for him to break his seal. There was still much to digest from the cause-and-effect revealed by the Mid-Autumn E.
…Speaking of Mid-Autumn, the Lao Jin mooncake really tasted great.
Li Shuo had practically shredded Lao Jin’s soul, leaving behind a refined and complex flavor. The taste was balanced in an intriguing way, with layers that danced across the palate.
Deciding to focus on the unique taste, Bai Shuangying ignored the bothersome humans for the time being.
Right now, Fang Xiu was clearly in the best spirits in the courtyard.
Knowing all that had happened with the Mid-Autumn E, Cheng Songyun, Guan He, and Mei Lan were subdued. Jia Xu and Blondie, on the other hand, had just been freed and seemed comparatively cheerful.
Blondie just treated it like another free ride, burying himself in his food. Jia Xu was more cautious. Sitting close to Mei Lan, he quietly asked about what had happened.
“Oh, so it all came down to a photo, huh,” he concluded. “That’s not too hard to guess, but Lao Jin captured me before I could figure out the death taboo.”
Mei Lan ignored him.
Glancing aside at Fang Xiu, Jia Xu raised his voice a bit. “With the ritual over, shouldn’t we be happy? Fang Xiu, I heard that female ghost say there’s going to be compensation for us. What is it?”
Fang Xiu explained, including mention of his extra Qiankun Bag. He didn’t bother hiding it. They’d all find out eventually anyway.
Jia Xu shook his head. “Why go for that little extra day in the human world? You could’ve just asked for more magic weapons, right? I’ll tell you…”
Guan He slammed his porridge bowl down with a bang. “You didn’t do anything at all. Could you just shut up?”
Jia Xu hesitated for a couple of seconds, then gave a short laugh. “Young people get heated so easily.”
“I heard about the ritual. A narc officer died, right? Your first time seeing that, of course you’d feel upset.”
He paused meaningfully. “But the police get paid with taxpayers’ money. If they don’t want to do the job, they don’t have to. You see how calm Fang Xiu is. Once you grow up, you’ll realize that someone like Lao Jin can’t thrive so long unless he has police insiders. Don’t oversimplify. Some cops do it just for the pay…”
Before he could finish, Guan He flung his porridge bowl at him. It flew off-target, smashing between two Eight Immortals tables, hot congee splattering everywhere.
Fang Xiu had half expected Cheng Songyun to stop Guan He, but she only frowned, pressing her lips together.
Jia Xu’s face stiffened. “Fang Xiu, say something to him.”
Fang Xiu took a bite of a steamed bun. “He’s not my kid. Why should I?”
“I’m just pointing out some facts. If he can’t handle reality, he’ll drag everyone else down later,” Jia Xu replied with feigned helplessness.
Fang Xiu: “‘You’ll die someday’ is also a fact. Should I remind you about it every day?”
Blondie let out a careless laugh, nearly choking on his soymilk.
Jia Xu: “……”
Jia Xu: “…No need to single me out. All I said was you shouldn’t have wasted your reward by asking for that trip. I’m just giving an objective opinion.”
Fang Xiu chuckled.
Ignoring Jia Xu, he turned to Guan He, who was still breathing hard. “Xiao Guan, do you know why in that photo only Lin Ge’s face showed?”
Guan He’s attention was immediately drawn in. “Why?”
“Because when he left behind his obsession, he was focused on protecting anyone still alive and looking after the families of fallen comrades. He never thought about protecting himself—he knew he was alone. If he died, it would all be over.”
Guan He: “…Yeah.”
“For me, I’m the same way. If I die, that’s the end of it.”
Fang Xiu grinned. “But people call Lin Ge a ‘lone hero’. People like me, well, they’d call me a ‘desperado’.”
Guan He, Jia Xu: “……”
The courtyard fell silent.
Fang Xiu was still smiling. “Well, now that we’re all on the subject, let me break the ice.”
“That Mid-Autumn E fiasco made it pretty clear how the Underworld chooses sacrifices. Everyone here, including me, carries at least one life on our conscience. We’ve gone through life-and-death together, so there’s no point keeping secrets or guessing at each other’s pasts.”
“We happen to have some free time today, so how about we all come clean? Let’s share who we got killed.”
The author has something to say:
This arc has come to an end!
Now it’s time for them to collect their rewards and go on a date ☆
Bai Shuangying’s concealment had no effect on Fang Xiu.
In Fang Xiu’s astonished gaze, Bai Shuangying made a light slice with two fingers, his sleeve fluttering like clouds and mist. In that instant, it was as if he had severed heaven and earth. Fang Xiu didn’t understand metaphysical arts, but he could vaguely sense that something connecting this place had been cut off.
It was severed so gently and naturally, like a fallen leaf dropping from its branch.
Li Shuo staggered in place for a couple of steps, the pitch black in his eyes instantly dispersing. He clutched his head and cursed on the spot, spewing a stream of curses. Fang Xiu tried to make sense of his dialect colorful language; it seemed Li Shuo was cursing the Underworld.
“What’s going on?” Fang Xiu hurried over and stopped by Bai Shuangying’s side.
Bai Shuangying spoke frankly. “The Underworld did something to him. If the E took damage while this ghost was still around, it would force him into a frenzy to kill.”
He paused, then added, “However, the spellwork was crude, and its power not strong. Most likely it wasn’t an official order, but a ghost officer acting on its own.”
Fang Xiu clicked his tongue. So Li Shuo was hit with a control spell, and his ghost had rushed in to break it. No wonder Bai Shuangying was the gold-medal support.
It seemed that while Bai Shuangying didn’t understand human nature as well as Fang Xiu, he definitely understood the Underworld better.
Fang Xiu asked, “Why would a ghost officer do something like that?”
“Li Shuo’s obsession isn’t that deep, and he still has reason. Otherwise, by a fierce ghost’s nature, there’s no way he’d just sit back and let you destroy the E.”
Bai Shuangying looked toward Li Shuo, who was still dizzy and disoriented. “When a human becomes a fierce ghost, it’s hard for them to have some towering, earth-shaking obsession. As time passes, that obsession fades, and most fierce ghosts naturally disappear.”
Fang Xiu could understand that. Otherwise, with so many people dead across the ages, the number of ghosts would have skyrocketed.
He thought it over. “The ghost officer sees Li Shuo is almost at the threshold of becoming a ghost immortal, and worries he’ll just let go of his obsession at the final moment, going soft on the match?”
Bai Shuangying nodded.
No wonder, Fang Xiu thought.
Back then, the Underworld hadn’t been so polite to Old Man Fu, even turning a blind eye when Fang Xiu killed him. Compared to Old Man Fu, whose ascension was a long shot, Li Shuo was clearly more valuable.
It wouldn’t be surprising if “raising a ghost immortal” counted toward some ghost officer’s performance review, so one of them pulling a dirty trick wasn’t shocking.
…Once he got out of here, he was definitely going to file a complaint!
“Damn it, I said stop dragging your feet and burn the photo already!” Li Shuo snapped, baring his teeth.
Fang Xiu took the lighter from Guan He and lit it again.
This time, the flames ignited smoothly.
Music vanished. The fireworks went silent.
In front of Fang Xiu, the beautiful night sky peeled away, revealing old, mildewed wallpaper. Where the full moon had been, there was actually a dust-covered ceramic Guanyin.
As the karma struck, Bai Shuangying suddenly flashed behind Fang Xiu, wrapping him fully in his arms. Fang Xiu didn’t have time to think before he was engulfed by the surging torrent of karma.
……
After cutting ties with his family, Li Shuo had been living in Anhe City in Gui Province.
In Anhe City, there was an old residential building, a relic from the last century. Each apartment was barely thirty square meters, and the structure was in terrible shape. The surrounding neighbors mockingly called it the “Hoodlum Building”…
The units were so run-down that nobody would buy them. Only shady types with nowhere else to go still lived there.
Li Shuo owned one of those apartments.
It had originally belonged to his grandmother. The décor was what the old lady had left behind, ugly and broken.
The most eye-catching spot in the living room still had a ceramic Guanyin statue. The statue looked cheap, but the old lady had burned incense and prayed to it every day, filling the unit with smoke.
Li Shuo had turned the place over to a “building manager”; someone who didn’t do contracts or check IDs and rented only to the city’s most down-and-out crowd.
The building manager took sixty percent of the rent as a management fee. Considering how hard the place was to manage, Li Shuo felt that was fair enough.
It was just a bit of cigarette money every month, he thought.
Truth be told, Li Shuo had dropped out after junior high and could only do menial work. He’d move goods in a supermarket and wait tables in a restaurant. He always felt the work was too hard, and within days he’d bail, leading to a quick-fired cycle.
Eventually, Li Shuo took up a job delivering food. Once he earned enough, he’d laze around his rental place streaming short videos and playing games, then when the money ran out, he’d go back to making deliveries.
But he still found life unsatisfying. He wanted more money, somehow.
One day, he set his sights on his tenants.
He planned to swing by his own apartment, pick out some “damage”, and extort a bit of cash. After all, it was his property, so whatever he said would go.
But as soon as Li Shuo opened his door, he chickened out.
Why? Because this tenant looked like a badass. He was well-built and half a head taller than Li Shuo, with a rugged stubble on his chin that made it hard to guess his age.
He was smoking a cigarette, and when he gave Li Shuo a quick once over, Li Shuo’s scheme to squeeze him died on the spot.
“Uh, big bro, this is my place, right? I just came back to grab something,” Li Shuo stammered, laughing stiffly.
Big Bro: “Oh.”
“Big bro, what’s your last name?”
“Lin.”
“Then I’ll call you Lin Ge.”
Li Shuo chuckled, rummaging in the cabinets like he was looking for something. All he found were a few old photos of his grandmother. He hemmed and hawed for a while, saying he missed his grandma and wanted to take a couple of pictures to look at.
To his surprise, Lin Ge wasn’t annoyed. He tapped his cigarette ashes and looked a bit less impatient. “Take them all if you want. Just don’t come bother me unnecessarily.”
With that, he leaned casually by the window, blowing smoke rings out onto the street.
If you wanted to see presence, this was it. Suddenly Li Shuo thought Lin Ge was very cool, obviously the kind of big bro who “knows a lot”.
That big bro must know how to make money.
Li Shuo had never been able to hold down a job for long, whether it was deliveries or other gigs, and he didn’t really have any friends. It was rare to see a potential connection, so why not try to build it?
So he asked, “Big bro, can I add you on WeChat? If anything breaks in the apartment, I can come by and fix it.”
There weren’t many things worth fixing in that place. Lin Ge eyed him, unamused. “No need. I’m just crashing here overnight.”
Li Shuo immediately tried his small-time-hustler’s stubbornness. “Then maybe your phone number? So I can reach you if something comes up.”
Worn down, Lin Ge muttered something like “Mm,” and Li Shuo hastily saved that string of digits, calling Lin Ge’s phone in person. Lin Ge gave the screen a casual glance but didn’t bother saving his number.
Li Shuo didn’t mind. It just made Lin Ge seem even cooler.
After that, Li Shuo sent Lin Ge weekly text messages to keep in touch. All of them vanished without reply, and Li Shuo began to suspect he’d been blocked.
But that Mid-Autumn Festival, he texted again: [Happy Mid-Autumn! I’m broke, no family, no girlfriend. Wanna grab a drink? It’s on me.]
Surprisingly, Lin Ge replied this time: [Sure.]
They met up at a barbecue stall. Nearby, a pedestrian street that had opened just a year ago was launching fireworks in celebration.
Lin Ge wasn’t much of a talker and didn’t like discussing himself. Their meal together was hardly more personal than sharing a table with strangers. Even so, it was rare for Li Shuo to spend Mid-Autumn with anyone, and he got a bit tipsy, lamenting his troubles.
“Life’s not fair,” he mumbled drunkenly. “The easier jobs all… all want at least a junior college diploma. That’s educational discrimination, you know… Hard for an ordinary guy to make a buck…”
Lin Ge responded half-heartedly, focusing on his mutton skewers.
“Big bro, you know any good gigs for quick cash? Hook me up?” Li Shuo waved his beer bottle, finally getting to the point.
“Heh heh, and if it’s a bit shady, that’s fine. I’m ready…”
Lin Ge lifted his head and frowned slightly. “Ready for what?”
“I’ve worked in a KTV. Some jobs there pay super high… But they either want good looks and social skills or people who can keep things in line. I’m neither.”
Li Shuo sighed. “Over there you can earn more than ten thousand a month. In the supermarket I work my butt off and don’t even make five thousand…”
“Man, you know money’s a great thing! With money, all kinds of girls flock to you, and I wouldn’t have to smoke this cheap stuff…”
Lin Ge: “…Money is indeed a great thing.”
Li Shuo sensed something odd about Lin Ge’s tone, but his booze-soaked brain couldn’t figure out exactly what.
He noticed something else: Lin Ge’s shirt pocket was a bit stuffed, and a corner of something, like a photo, peeked out.
Could it be a picture of some woman? Taking advantage of his drunkenness, Li Shuo reached out…
Lin Ge’s face changed slightly, his whole body tensing, but then he relaxed and reached out a hand. “Don’t mess with it. Give it back.”
Li Shuo looked at the photo and blinked in confusion.
It seemed new. The image showed a pedestrian street shining bright with lights, fireworks and a full moon frozen overhead.
At the center were seven or eight young men enjoying a night out, all with radiant smiles, clearly very close friends. There were no women, so not the pretty girl Li Shuo had imagined.
Li Shuo felt a bit disappointed. “What’s this?”
“My friends,” Lin Ge said casually.
Li Shuo: “Carrying your friends’ photo to come out drinking, Big Bro, aren’t you sentimental?”
Lin Ge gave him an exasperated glance and snatched back the photo. “…One of my buddies in the picture died. I’m bringing him out for the holiday.”
Li Shuo: “!” Wow, that was truly cool.
Li Shuo: “So how come you’re not hanging out with the rest of them?”
Lin Ge: “Mind your own business.”
Chastened, Li Shuo shut his mouth. A few minutes later, he began his usual routine: bemoaning his miserable life… From his rotten family relations to his meager bank balance.
But no matter how pitiful he made it sound, Lin Ge never hinted at giving him any kind of “opportunity”, illicit or otherwise.
In the end, Lin Ge only told him to quit texting so much. But he did say they could eat together on Mid-Autumn in the future.
It was the first time they’d ever eaten together. Li Shuo figured that was progress.
……
Li Shuo kept muddling through life. The next year, on Mid-Autumn, they met again for a small gathering.
Lin Ge had upgraded his look a bit. Li Shuo couldn’t understand why Lin Ge, clearly doing well, still had no one else to spend Mid-Autumn with.
Once again, Li Shuo drank and complained as usual. But then, acting mysterious, he said, “Big bro, do you know ‘Er Gui’?”
That was a name he’d heard somewhere, said to be someone in “the business.” Li Shuo figured if he mentioned it, Lin Ge might look at him differently.
Sure enough, Lin Ge’s brow creased. “Where did you hear that?”
“That’s not important,” Li Shuo said, gnawing on a crab leg. “They say working for Er Gui makes you big money, you know?”
“Do you even know what they do?” Lin Ge cut him off.
Li Shuo: “Heh, they’re just dealing that stuff in KTVs, right? I hear you can make money fast with Er Gui.”
Then he tried to gloss it over, “Come on, lots of people in entertainment mess with that. It’s legal in some foreign countries…”
Lin Ge’s facial muscles tightened. For a second, Li Shuo thought he was going to get hit.
But in the end, Lin Ge only glared at him. “Go read the law and figure out how much your life is worth.”
Li Shuo shut his mouth, his overheated brain rapidly cooling. He wanted money, but he was still more afraid of dying.
So he changed the subject. “Heh heh, Big Bro, you brought that photo again, huh…”
That night, Lin Ge ended up saying quite a bit.
He told Li Shuo that he should spend more energy figuring out what he was good at, that it wouldn’t work in the long run if he just tried everything he saw.
Li Shuo let it go in one ear and out the other. He didn’t care about “the long run”, only quick cash.
Even so, he obeyed their agreement: only contacting Lin Ge when necessary. Actually, Lin Ge even sent Li Shuo two texts himself, asking about the hot water heater in the apartment.
So did that mean they were friends? Probably, Li Shuo thought.
……
The third year, on Mid-Autumn, Lin Ge’s clothes were more upscale, while the barbecue stall they picked was more down-to-earth.
Li Shuo, on the other hand, looked extremely slovenly. His hair was a bit tangled, and his face was sallow from poor lifestyle habits. The two of them sitting together made a strange sight.
This time, before Li Shuo could complain, Lin Ge spoke first. “You’re pretty good at fixing things.”
As soon as Li Shuo got to talk about what he was good at, his energy rose. “I fixed toy cars for classmates in junior high, the kind you race. I got two yuan each time!”
He spoke excitedly, eyes bright.
“Try a repair shop,” Lin Ge suggested after a moment. “If you don’t like heavy work, avoid home appliance calls. Maybe try fixing computers or phones. I hear fixing gaming consoles can also be profitable.”
Then, slightly awkward, he added, “I’m no expert, but if you like it, it can’t hurt to try.”
Li Shuo perked up. “Hey, Big Bro, you know what, I love tinkering with that stuff!”
Lin Ge pointed at the fireworks off in the distance. “That electronics store near the pedestrian street is doing good business. I saw they’re hiring a few days back.”
His tone carried a hint of warmth rarely heard from him.
“I’ll check it out tomorrow!” Li Shuo slapped his thigh.
He was dangerously short on money at the moment, and that kind of work didn’t sound too exhausting, so it was perfect.
With a new goal in mind, Li Shuo’s usual complaints subsided, and they had a more normal conversation. Lin Ge still didn’t share much about himself. He only said he did some kind of business and that it was going alright.
“Big Bro, if you’re doing fine, why still crash at that crappy apartment of mine?” Li Shuo was puzzled.
“Anywhere to sleep is the same. Moving around is more trouble.”
Li Shuo didn’t get it. If he had money, he’d definitely rent a big fancy place. But come to think of it, Lin Ge must really consider him a friend now, because he’d even let Li Shuo watch him take out that photo.
Every time Lin Ge looked at the photo, his expression would grow nostalgic.
Li Shuo thought it must be a dear friend in that picture.
He hoped he and Lin Ge could one day be that close.
……
In the fourth year, on Mid-Autumn, Li Shuo dressed cleanly in a stylish hoodie, his hair partially dyed. Meanwhile, Lin Ge’s attire was surprisingly low-key, dark and drab.
As soon as they met, Li Shuo started chattering away.
He genuinely had talent for repairs, learning fast and doing quality work. The electronics store boss was happy to keep him on, and now Li Shuo was increasingly motivated. He’d never quit, not even if someone tried to force him.
He made around seven thousand a month, and his boss even paid for full insurance. He’d rented a small studio near the pedestrian street. It was quiet, clean, with a great view out the window.
That night, Li Shuo had almost no complaints, and he barely drank.
“Big Bro, the store is crazy busy. Someone even posted a video of me online, so now people mail in their gaming consoles for me to fix. The boss says he’ll give me a raise next year.”
Li Shuo was beaming. “And get this, the girl in the bubble tea shop next door smiles at me all the time. Big Bro, do you think she likes me?”
Lin Ge lit a cigarette, listening and smiling.
Li Shuo suddenly realized the guy had a certain presence when he smiled.
Sure enough, Lin Ge was really cool and definitely knew how to make money. Looking back, Li Shuo felt that forcing a connection back then had been a brilliant decision.
After they’d chatted in their usual routine, Lin Ge did something unexpected: he made a request.
Lin Ge: “Xiao Li, can you look after the photo for me? From now on, whenever we meet on Mid-Autumn, just bring it with you.”
Li Shuo: “Huh?”
It was just a photo so it didn’t take up much space. Why would he need someone else to look after it?
Lin Ge, however, explained very naturally that he’d been crazy busy and kept losing track of stuff, and he worried he might misplace it. Also, with Li Shuo in charge of the photo, he’d be forced to show up for Mid-Autumn gatherings, so he wouldn’t “forget his friend once he got rich.”
Li Shuo liked that second part and happily agreed.
Actually, Lin Ge seemed to have some kind of compulsion. Though he showed up every Mid-Autumn, he made it clear each year that Li Shuo must wait for him to text first about meeting up. If no text arrived by Mid-Autumn, that meant he was busy and Li Shuo shouldn’t bother him.
Businesspeople often had quirks, so Li Shuo accepted that.
“What if you never come?” Li Shuo asked naturally.
Lin Ge paused his drag on the cigarette, then smiled. “Then burn the photo.”
“…Huh?”
“It’s actually my friend’s photo. After he died, his family wanted to burn it for him, but I decided to keep it for myself.”
Lin Ge looked at the full moon. “In the end, returning dust to dust, soil to soil… that’s not so bad.”
Li Shuo drew a sharp breath. So it was something belonging to a deceased person. They say businesspeople are superstitious, yet Lin Ge wasn’t bothered by the bad luck?
But then again, if it belonged to a friend, maybe it would bless the living. Li Shuo wasn’t too sure.
Ultimately, Li Shuo took the photo, promising to bring it every Mid-Autumn from then on.
…After all, Lin Ge wasn’t only half a benefactor but a friend.
Year after year, these casual gatherings, helping each other out… If they weren’t bros, what were they?
……
The fifth year, Mid-Autumn Daytime.
Li Shuo was in a fantastic mood. He decided to swing by the “Hoodlum Building” to give Lin Ge a surprise.
He had a lot to tell him, more than they could cover over a single meal…
After working at the electronics store for two years, business was booming. The boss had promoted him to assistant manager, and now he could earn over ten thousand a month.
What’s more, he was dating the girl from the bubble tea shop.
Her name was Juanzi, and she wasn’t very pretty nor curvy. Definitely lightyears away from the beauties in short videos. Now, though, Li Shuo didn’t mind at all. After all, he was short himself and not handsome, so having an honest, steady relationship was great.
Plus, he thought Juanzi’s smile was adorable, better-looking than any influencer’s grin.
But if he wanted to start a family, he needed savings.
Li Shuo had calculated carefully. Quitting smoking saved a couple hundred every month. Cutting back on food and drink and renting a slightly cheaper place gave him a few hundred more. He could put aside over eight thousand a month, nearly a hundred thousand a year!
After three years, he’d have three hundred thousand, enough for a down payment on a place…
Then he could bring Juanzi home to meet his folks. Looking back, he’d been really out of line before. Now that he was doing well, it’d be a good time to mend fences with his family…
In short, he planned to spend Mid-Autumn night on a date with Juanzi, so he couldn’t meet Lin Ge in the evening.
Thus, Li Shuo wanted to shift their gathering to daytime, maybe pick up some dating tips from Lin Ge.
Before heading to the Hoodlum Building, he even bought some nice food and drink, not forgetting the photo.
After all, Lin Ge hadn’t texted him yet about meeting this year, so Li Shuo wasn’t sure he was free. No big deal if he wasn’t. Worst case, Li Shuo would make the trip for nothing. It was his own apartment anyway.
To be honest, he hadn’t been back to the Hoodlum Building in years, and he was a bit curious.
…But the moment Li Shuo reached his door, someone smashed him in the face.
He was instantly dazed, feeling two streams of hot liquid from his nose, and the food in his hands dropped to the ground with a crash.
Next, someone grabbed him and yanked him inside, slamming the door shut.
The floor was covered in blood, and in an instant his clothes had soaked it up, turning heavy and sticky.
…Why was there so much blood on the floor?
Half in a stupor, Li Shuo heard voices speaking above him.
“Who’s this?” asked a rough voice.
“The building manager said he’s some deadbeat who left home years ago, probably no problem,” another answered, stepping on Li Shuo’s back. “…He’s a nobody.”
No, he wasn’t a “nobody,” Li Shuo hazily thought.
He was a person, and he was living a decent life.
He was an assistant store manager, had a cute girlfriend, and made ten thousand a month.
“What now, Er Gui Ge?” asked the voice.
That hoarse voice gave a short laugh. “He showed up himself. What do you think? Kill him.”
Li Shuo couldn’t quite process it, but Er Gui sounded like he was talking about a piece of meat rather than a person.
“Wait,” Er Gui added, “that cop isn’t dead yet. Let him watch us kill this punk and see if he’s still so tough.”
They dragged Li Shuo to the living room. Through the tilted blur of his vision, he saw a man drenched in blood.
He was on the brink of death, blood covering his face. But Li Shuo recognized him: it was Lin Ge.
Lin Ge seemed to recognize him as well. For the first time in five years, Li Shuo saw fear in Lin Ge’s eyes.
A thick stench of blood filled his nostrils. Li Shuo gradually realized…
…Er Gui was a drug dealer.
…And “that cop” was Lin Ge, an undercover narc.
Lin Ge never used WeChat or saved phone numbers; he carried a photo but wouldn’t keep it where he lived.
He turned serious whenever Li Shuo mentioned Er Gui and the drug trade.
He never talked about his family or got in touch with friends. One of his friends had already died in an “accident”…
Li Shuo felt, for the first time in his life, that he was suddenly very smart, even smarter than when he’d tinkered with toy cars in junior high.
He realized what “accident” probably meant. That friend must also have been a narc, just like Lin Ge.
He suddenly understood the terror in Lin Ge’s eyes: half of it was for Li Shuo and half for that photo… for the still-living colleagues in it.
At that moment, Li Shuo wasn’t thinking grandly about justice or morality.
…He only thought that he’d brought the photo into hell, so he had to fix it.
…He couldn’t let his brother’s comrade go down because of him.
Somehow, he found the strength to stagger up and stumble toward the inner room.
This was his grandmother’s apartment, and he’d stayed here often as a kid. He knew how to wedge the door so it wouldn’t open easily.
The window had security bars, so Er Gui’s men weren’t in a hurry; they treated him like a caged animal. As they pounded on the door, Li Shuo dug out the photo.
It was soaked in blood, stained with a dark red patch.
Li Shuo stumbled to the windowsill, finding a familiar gap in the bricks. The old place was full of gaps, and this one was his secret stash. As a child, he’d hidden pocket money here to keep his parents from taking it.
He managed a slight smile and shoved the photo inside. The gap was deep, and the darkness swallowed it whole.
He was careful not to smear any blood near the gap.
The photo was safe, he thought; nobody would ever find it.
With a dull thud, someone kicked the door open.
A foot stomped him to the floor and dragged him back into the living room, the attacker growling curses that basically meant “Don’t bother yelling for help. This is the Hoodlum Building, nobody here cares.”
Li Shuo tuned him out, glancing sideways at the young goon hauling him.
That goon was under thirty, about his age. The way he spewed insults looked exactly like another version of himself.
Despite the agony, Li Shuo almost wanted to laugh. If he hadn’t met Lin Ge, maybe he’d be standing there, doing the killing.
Money really was a great thing, Li Shuo thought.
If you can command “ghosts” with money, you first have to make them into ghosts.
They dragged Li Shuo back to the living room.
Lin Ge was still breathing raggedly, his eyes filled with despair as he stared at Li Shuo, as if wanting to push him away from danger by sight alone.
Li Shuo licked the blood on his lips. Suddenly it hit him. Lin Ge probably wasn’t really named Lin. He might never learn the man’s real name.
Big Bro, it’s pointless, he thought.
“Big Bro, it’s alright,” he said.
…This wasn’t your fault. It’s just my own awful luck; don’t blame yourself.
…I don’t want to die. I’m not resigned to this. I hate it. But I know who I should hate.
Li Shuo rolled his eyes upward, fixing a ferocious stare on Er Gui as he watched the gruesome spectacle.
He no longer remembered exactly when he died or when Lin Ge died.
He only knew that Er Gui’s men didn’t finish them off quickly. Blood was everywhere, his eyes were veiled in red, and the pain twisted his memory beyond all recognition.
He only remembered the final glance he cast on the world…
Night fell darker and darker; the pain drifted further and further away. In the blood pooling around him, Li Shuo saw the reflection of his grandmother’s ceramic Bodhisattva.
After all these years, Lin Ge still hadn’t taken it.
In the cold blood, Li Shuo couldn’t close his eyes.
Li Shuo didn’t know that in the moment he breathed his last, Lin Ge struggled to move a finger. He stared in agony at the dying young man, eyes shot with blood.
He noticed Li Shuo’s clothing was slightly disarrayed, as though someone had searched him. He saw the change in Li Shuo’s expression, and guessed Li Shuo had deliberately run into the inner room to hide something.
Once, a friend of his had died protecting innocent people.
Now, another friend had died protecting innocent people.
That had been his job. He should have carried on his friend’s cause, keeping his colleagues and the public safe.
Maybe it was all beyond repair now, and he couldn’t do anything anymore, but…
[Those who should be protected are the innocent.]
Deep in the gap of the bricks, a swirl of yin energy began to gather. It spun faster and faster, forming an invisible storm. The temperature plummeted. Within that darkness, any lurking evil spirit was wiped out on the spot.
On the bloodstained photo, one evil spirit after another appeared, while the faces of the people gradually vanished, leaving only the backs of their heads.
An object with an obsession, collecting karma, becomes an “E”.
In the vortex entangling countless threads of karma, the photo bore the same resolve. Once again it became a keepsake, devouring that obsession and mechanically converting it into three taboos:
Evil spirits carry a blood debt and aren’t allowed to leave.
At three quarters before noon, one life must be paid.
…Remember, there are prying eyes; no showing your face.
……
Fang Xiu opened his eyes to find himself wrapped tightly in Bai Shuangying’s arms. The remnants of the photo were still burning, drifting lightly through the air.
Flames licked at the laughing faces, turning them to ash.
…He felt a weight in his hand. It was the demon-revealing mirror.
Fang Xiu quickly turned his head. They were in a thirty-square-meter run-down apartment, and everyone was there.
Li Shuo was there, and so was Lao Jin, who had just taken his last breath. Li Shuo’s face was expressionless, his eyes sweeping over that dusty Bodhisattva statue.
Beside him, Lin Ge’s apparition had vanished.
The last few wisps of ash fell at his feet, like a period marking the end.
Something felt off, Fang Xiu thought. The E had been completely destroyed, but the paper figure hadn’t shown up, and the “immunity to evil” effect hadn’t kicked in.
Li Shuo lowered his head to look at the bit of ash, then laughed. “So, now you know what happened.”
Fang Xiu, Bai Shuangying: “Yes.”
Fang Xiu: “?”
Bai Shuangying had pressed so close because he wanted a firsthand look at the photo’s cause-and-effect?
Either way, Fang Xiu didn’t dwell on it for now. He kept his attention on Li Shuo. “So can you tell us your obsession now?”
Li Shuo lowered his gaze and took out an unlit cigarette. Without the E’s power, his figure was far less solid than before.
“I’m just not reconciled,” he said. “I died before I’d really lived. I wanted to see them get what they deserved.”
“But after sacrificing so many people during the festival, I stopped caring that much. You kill enough people, and it just feels the same…”
Silence fell over the room.
Guan He and the others didn’t know the story behind the E, but they could sense the sorrow on Li Shuo’s face.
“…Later I just thought, I hid that photo so carefully, and nobody knew Big Bro had left one. I hoped someone would find it someday and bring it to his family.”
He gave a self-mocking laugh.
“That was my last little wish, but telling you is pointless. You can’t leave this place without destroying the photo, so it’s a dead end.”
Fang Xiu was quiet for a while. “Do you know why I brought up ‘Er Gui’ to you?”
“Why?”
“Because I knew you had a grudge against him. After your deaths, the case was huge news, reported everywhere, handled with extra severity. Er Gui’s gang was executed by firing squad, and all their upstream and downstream partners were arrested.”
“It’s just a pity there wasn’t enough evidence to deal with Boss Jin. He lay low abroad for two years back then.”
Hearing that, Cheng Songyun exclaimed, “I remember that news story.”
Li Shuo watched Fang Xiu intently. “And then?”
Fang Xiu: “After that, Lin Ge’s photo was publicly commemorated in an official report… Actually, you didn’t have to wait. He had no ‘family’ who could take that photo.”
Otherwise, the official media wouldn’t have displayed it openly.
“…Also, his last name really was Lin.”
Li Shuo was silent a long time. At last, he chuckled. “Makes sense. No wonder he only ever brought that group photo on Mid-Autumn.”
Then he grabbed the bloody mess that was Lao Jin and dragged him to the dried bloodstain in the center of the floor.
With a snap of his fingers, the new corpse of mangled flesh burst into flames.
Though Lao Jin’s body was covered in blood, the fire burned slowly, refusing to die out.
Finally, Li Shuo took the unlit cigarette, touching it to the flame. Blue smoke rose in curling wisps, just like old times.
“Lin Ge, share one with me.”
He stood the cigarette upright, placing it in the incense burner before the ceramic Bodhisattva.
Guan He felt sad watching. In a soft voice, he said, “I remember that article now. Everyone called Lin Ge a saint…”
Li Shuo didn’t look back. “Bullshit. If he were that heartless, he wouldn’t have kept the photo or worried about my life. If he’d done it that way, then maybe you could call him unfeeling and transcendent.”
“Sometimes I think he was exhausted, holed up on his own, chain-smoking… There aren’t that many saints in the world. Lin Ge was just an ordinary guy.”
Fang Xiu: “But really cool.”
Li Shuo burst out laughing. “Yeah, Lin Ge was really cool.”
He laughed for a long time, long enough for Lao Jin’s last sounds to vanish and that cigarette to burn down to its butt.
“So I’ve been dead four or five years, huh.”
“Juanzi probably got married to someone else, and the store must have a new assistant manager by now. It’s good that I never patched things up with my family. This way, they won’t be too upset about my death… when I think of it that way, I guess there’s nothing left tying me here.”
Li Shuo glanced at the nearly finished cigarette, then turned to Fang Xiu.
“In the end, you still got me to move on.”
Leaning back against Bai Shuangying, Fang Xiu waved a hand at Li Shuo as though seeing off a friend in a routine farewell.
He looked oddly calm, and for an instant Li Shuo thought he saw a hint of envy in Fang Xiu’s eyes.
What a strange person.
Li Shuo shook his head, smiling, then turned back to the incense burner.
The ember on the cigarette in the incense burner dimmed, about to go out.
Li Shuo stood at the place where he had died, folding his hands as he remembered his grandma lighting incense. He slowly closed his eyes.
“Homage to the greatly compassionate and merciful Guanyin Bodhisattva…”
Yin energy dissolved, caught in a swirl of wind. The young man’s figure vanished like mist.
All that remained on the dark bloodstain was Lao Jin’s scorched corpse.
With Lao Jin’s death, the demon-revealing mirror trembled and released Huang Mao and Jia Xu, both looking dazed. The space shifted abruptly, and they started yelling in confusion.
Fang Xiu didn’t bother explaining. He walked toward the incense burner where the smoke was still dispersing and took out Lao Jin’s golden Bodhisattva statue.
With a quiet clink, he dropped it onto the empty offering plate, then bowed to the ceramic figure.
“Hey bud, since you’re not taking living souls, I shouldn’t waste this,” Fang Xiu muttered. “I’m feeding Lao Jin to my ghost. I hope that’s okay.”
Then he turned, about to call Bai Shuangying, only to see Bai Shuangying frown sharply and hide himself on the spot.
Fang Xiu: “……?”
What, was he so picky now that he wouldn’t even eat?
He didn’t have time to speak before a sudden gust blew behind him, sending a chill up his neck. Instantly, Fang Xiu sensed something was off.
“So you’re the one who broke the ‘Mid-Autumn E’?” came a cold, rasping female voice.
It came from behind him. The speaker was clearly a woman, yet her stature seemed taller than his. A bloodstained wedding robe fluttered into Fang Xiu’s peripheral vision.
Goosebumps prickled all over him; he didn’t turn around immediately.
This time the Underworld hadn’t sent the paper figure; the aura of this newcomer was worlds apart.
“Yes, I broke it. So what?” Fang Xiu steadied his breathing.
The woman’s voice went quiet for a few seconds. “Good.”
“Sorry about this. Someone on our side cheated. As their superior, I’m here personally to apologize.”
She spoke decisively. “As for your compensation, the Underworld side…”
Fang Xiu: “?” That woke him right up.
He spun around like a spinning top, voice brimming with vigor. “Hold on. Since when does only the guilty party get to call the shots on compensation?”
“Come on, let’s have a good talk—!”
The author has something to say:
Actually, it was enough content for two chapters, but since there wasn’t a good place to split, I went ahead and wrote it all at once… Praise me!!!
Also, the edits I’ve made these past couple of days are just slight adjustments to some dialogue wording to make it easier to understand, without touching the plot _(:з」∠)_
By this calculation, the pedestrian street has been standing for exactly nine years, and Li Shuo has participated in five rituals (including the Mid-Autumn Festival when he died). Five rituals in total, catching up to Old Man Fu ten years of dedicated training, truly a top student.
————————————
By the way, let me just say this outright: if someone in our country is pushing for marijuana legalization, they’re either ignorant or malicious, or both. If there’s someone like that around you, it’s best to keep your distance.
Guan He glanced at Half Mountain, then looked at Fang Xiu in confusion.
A quasi-ghost immortal? Is there really a half-step ghost immortal here? …Wasn’t that just something he made up to trick Lao Jin?
Half-step ghost immortals sound terrifying. They really should run away. Why is Fang Xiu insisting on provoking him?
Fang Xiu finally snapped the lighter shut. “Elder, you finally decided to show yourself. My fingers hurt from holding the flame so long.”
Half Mountain cast him a sidelong look. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll snatch your lighter?”
“I’ll introduce someone: this is my ghost, Bai Shuangying. He’s especially good at hiding.”
Fang Xiu pulled Bai Shuangying over proudly. “Our Xiao Guan also knows the Five-Ghost Relocation, so he can swipe the lighter anytime he wants.”
“If you show any suspicious moves, Xiao Guan will grab the lighter, and Bai Shuangying will hide him. That way, we can quietly strike a spark and still get away.”
Half Mountain: “……”
Fine. You’re ruthless.
Fang Xiu went on, “Anyway, we’ve already killed all the evil spirits, so there’s no risk of it leaking outside. See how sincere I am?”
Half Mountain gave a cold laugh. “You call that killing evil spirits? After all that fuss, I thought you were torturing them for information.”
Fang Xiu instinctively looked at Bai Shuangying, only to see his own ghost’s eyes brimming with agreement, and he visibly deflated. “How can you say that…?”
What, did his demon-vanquishing pose not look cool enough?
That said, this half-step ghost immortal, despite his poisonous tongue, was good about keeping his distance; he showed no intent to grab the lighter by force. They stood beside a brightly lit street stall, and the atmosphere was unexpectedly pleasant.
“So, what exactly did you call me out here for?”
Half Mountain crossed his arms, looking like any random, high-spirited young man on the street. “When you destroy the karma linked to that photo, you’ll know the truth. Why make me spell it out for you?”
At this point, Half Mountain wasn’t hiding the fact that “the photo is the E.”
Fang Xiu shook his head and said solemnly, “What is your obsession?”
He set aside his playful tone, asking very seriously.
Half Mountain was different from the God of Weishan.
The God of Weishan had never been a fierce ghost. During her human life, she accumulated great merit and ascended as a human.
Half Mountain, on the other hand, had clearly gone from human to fierce ghost, then cultivated this “E” as a fierce ghost. For a human to become a fierce ghost, obsession was indispensable.
Sure enough, hearing Fang Xiu’s question about obsession, Half Mountain’s expression changed. “What does my obsession have to do with you?”
“We can only leave if we destroy the E,” Fang Xiu said gravely. “I know how important the photo is to you, but I’m not about to die here…so as compensation, I’d like to help you free yourself from that obsession.”
Half Mountain snorted. “You want to send me off, huh.”
“Yes. Anyone you need me to pass a message to? Or maybe someone you want killed? I can handle either.”
Fang Xiu explained his “services” with practiced ease.
“Oh? Sounds pretty professional. Do you do this kind of work exclusively?” Half Mountain didn’t answer directly but teased, “…Then again, they say you accumulate virtue by doing this, and you don’t strike me as virtuous.”
Fang Xiu: “……”
Fang Xiu: “Usually I charge for dealing with obsessions. Given the circumstances, I’ll make an exception for you.”
Bai Shuangying’s spirits lifted when he heard that. So he was right. Fang Xiu really was an Underworld assassin who worked for money. Thinking this, Bai Shuangying patted his human’s head, quite satisfied.
Fang Xiu immediately played along, leaning on Bai Shuangying in a conspicuously showy way. It was as though there was an invisible banner that read: “Human-Ghost Harmony—Underworld Services Rendered with Expertise” floating around them.
Half Mountain mulled it over for a long time and sighed. “Come with me.”
He led them to the small electronics store.
At the moment, the place was empty. The money Fang Xiu had left to rent a camera was still on the counter. With Half Mountain no longer blocking it, the door to the storeroom stood out a bit more.
Fang Xiu shrugged. “No smoking in public places, and this street is doing good business now. Who’d be smoking in such a tiny shop? The first time I saw you, I felt something was off.”
“Then why didn’t you call me out?”
“Because maybe you were just being inconsiderate,” Fang Xiu said, shooting him a glance.
Half Mountain: “……”
Dammit, he only made a couple of snide remarks, and this kid’s already holding a grudge.
Half Mountain sighed again, straightened his clothes, and knocked on the storeroom door. “Brother, I brought them.”
No response from inside. Half Mountain gave a wry smile, then opened the door himself.
Inside, the actual shop clerk was tidying goods in the corner. Deeper in the storeroom sat a figure who didn’t belong there at all.
That person was perched on a box, sipping soda. In fact, his posture would’ve fit perfectly at the barbecue stall.
The most striking thing was that, like Half Mountain, his facial features were fully intact.
He appeared to be about the same age as Half Mountain, smiling brightly and looking totally at ease. He dressed similarly to the other young men at the stall, wearing plain clothes but looking sharp and energetic.
“Let me introduce him: he’s my big brother.”
Half Mountain said, “He’s only that fresh-faced in the photo. When I first met him, he didn’t look this young at all.”
Fang Xiu looked at his face without a word.
Half Mountain: “You must’ve figured it out: my big bro was an anti-drug police officer, and this is his photo. He was found out while undercover and lost his life.”
Fang Xiu and Guan He held their breath, gazing at Half Mountain, but he didn’t continue the story.
Instead, he casually changed the topic. “As for me, I’m just an ordinary guy. The reason I’m stuck here is much like Xiao Guan’s. I was in junior high when I took my younger cousins to a reservoir. Swimming was banned, but I wanted to show off and got them into the water, and they drowned.”
Guan He got nervous. “Then you and your family…”
“Don’t look at me; I can’t help you.”
Half Mountain waved helplessly. “My relatives cut me off because of that incident, and then I took up smoking and drinking, never improved. At least you and your mom can still talk. I don’t even contact my family when New Year comes around.”
At that, he gave a self-deprecating smile. “If I hadn’t met Big Bro, I probably would’ve become a sacrifice.”
Fang Xiu withdrew his gaze from the “Big Brother”. “I’m very sorry.”
Without the buildup of cause and effect, and without an obsession, an object wouldn’t become an “E”. For this fallen police officer, the Mid-Autumn photo had to be a treasured keepsake.
It captured a richly festive atmosphere and a joyful gathering of friends. Just looking at it made people happy. Even an outsider like Fang Xiu was fond of it.
But for Half Mountain, it wasn’t just the core to his ascension. It was also a precious relic of a friend.
“…I’m really sorry,” Fang Xiu repeated, voice heavier this time.
Half Mountain looked at him. “I’m already a fierce ghost. It’s not like I have happy emotions left, so your apology doesn’t matter.”
“Besides, if I said I couldn’t give it up, would you just stay here and die with your companions?”
Fang Xiu hurried to change the subject. “You’re obviously able to cast a spell to hide your Big Brother’s face. Why bring him out here?”
Half Mountain responded without thinking. “Leaving him every night in the line of sight of those beasts…bothers me.”
It took Fang Xiu a few seconds to realize he was talking about that giant face during the Blood Night. Strictly speaking, it was just a taboo-generated concept, not an actual drug dealer watching them.
But Half Mountain still refused, and indeed, fierce ghosts tend to be stubborn.
While Fang Xiu was thinking this, Half Mountain placed “Big Bro’s” arm around his shoulder. Perhaps it was thanks to the E’s approval that he could effortlessly touch the illusion.
Propping him up like a friend, Half Mountain said, “Never mind obsessions for the moment. Since we’re not going to fight, how about having a few drinks together?
“I saw you pulling out good stuff earlier. Since you’re set on destroying my E, it’s not too much for me to freeload a bit, right?”
Fang Xiu said sincerely, “I’ve got Wangzai brand almond milk or canned fruit syrup. Take your pick.”
“Bring it all,” Half Mountain answered bluntly.
……
The moonlight was bright, and neon lights were flashing.
On the last day of the Mid-Autumn Festival, what had been a brutal struggle for survival turned into a little gathering around the barbecue stall.
Half Mountain moved “Big Bro” back to the stall, and everyone gathered around a big table. Fang Xiu brought out all the offerings he could find. At a glance, it really did seem like a group of friends getting together.
The half-step ghost immortal chugged a bottle of soda in one go. “Yeah, that’s the taste. Eating raw souls just never sits right. A person needs some junk food…”
He seemed totally casual, not treating Fang Xiu’s group as strangers at all.
Guan He had been holding back for a while and couldn’t help asking, “We’re going to destroy the photo. Do you really not mind?”
Half Mountain smiled wryly. “If I said I didn’t care, would you believe me?”
Guan He fell silent.
Though Half Mountain’s tone was light, it held a hint of regret.
“Saying I don’t care is a lie, but what else can I do? You’ve got a plan to burn it anyway.”
“Besides, you’re not guilty enough to deserve death, and Fang Xiu’s acting like a bounty hunter… If I actually killed you all to keep the photo, Big Bro would probably roll in his grave,” Half Mountain muttered.
“Come on, a toast to Half Mountain,” Fang Xiu said, raising a soda can.
“Stop calling me ‘Half Mountain’ already.” The half-step ghost immortal was annoyed. “My name is Li Shuo. Li as in dawn, Shuo as in sparkle*.”
*Clarity: The Li (黎) from dawn [liming] (黎明), the Shuo (烁) from twinkle/sparkles [shanshuo] (闪烁)
Saying this, he set half of his food before “Big Bro”, even though they all knew that illusion couldn’t really enjoy any of it.
“Alright, a toast to Li Shuo.” Once Li Shuo finished arranging things, Fang Xiu raised his can again.
Only then did Li Shuo lift his can to clink it with Fang Xiu’s.
“…Actually, speaking of who cares about this photo, I think the Underworld cares even more than I do.”
Li Shuo tore into a chicken leg, grease dripping. “Not long after I got sealed in the photo, they sent a paper figure to babble all sorts of explanations…wait, would that be ‘science popularization’? Or ‘metaphysical popularization’?
“Anyway, they told me I was entangled in the karma of this ‘E’ and suitable for cultivating as a ghost immortal. I thought watching those scum kill each other was satisfying enough, plus I had some personal attachments, so I just went with it.”
Guan He was stunned. “The Underworld is actually raising ghost immortals?!”
“It’s not quite like that,” Fang Xiu interrupted, talking around a mouthful of pastry.
“If we succeed in destroying the E, we remove a source of yin energy in the human realm, so the Underworld wins.”
“If we die in the ritual, we nurture a ghost immortal who refines the E, and the Underworld still wins. Since it’s peacetime, fresh souls aren’t that easy to come by. And if a ghost immortal has taken the Underworld’s investment of souls, they’ve definitely got to pay up somehow.”
Guan He understood. “So whether the E is broken or not, the underworld benefits, but cultivating a ghost immortal is even more profitable for them.”
Fang Xiu turned to Li Shuo. “Speaking of that, what price is the underworld asking from you?”
“No idea. They said we’d talk once I ascend.”
Fang Xiu scratched his chin. “Hmm…”
Li Shuo finished the roast chicken and started on fruit, continuing to spill the Underworld’s secrets with cheerful candor.
“Thing is, the power of this photo is limited. It only opens during the Mid-Autumn Festival. So each year at Mid-Autumn, the Underworld sends in a batch of sacrifices and evil spirits.
“In a week or so, they mostly kill each other off, and I finish off any survivors. That ends the ritual for the year. Then I wait for the next Mid-Autumn… It’s been ages since I enjoyed a normal holiday. These oranges are delicious…”
Fang Xiu listened closely, idly pinching Bai Shuangying’s sleeve.
Come to think of it, Bai Shuangying had been unusually quiet. Fang Xiu turned his head and saw Bai Shuangying staring hard at Li Shuo.
It was odd… Li Shuo’s hostility was gone, yet Bai Shuangying remained tense.
“What’s wrong?” Fang Xiu tugged at a lock of Bai Shuangying’s hair.
“…Nothing. Just eat,” Bai Shuangying said in a low voice.
Maybe Bai Shuangying simply found Li Shuo off-putting. A fierce ghost’s mind is unfathomable. Fang Xiu decided he should soothe his ghost somehow.
He dropped his gaze to Lao Jin at his feet.
Under the table.
Lao Jin’s limbs were all broken, and part of one leg was gone. He lay on the ground like a dog, struggling to breathe.
Seeing Fang Xiu keep chatting with Li Shuo, Lao Jin wisely stayed quiet, trying to minimize his presence.
As expected. The worst Fang Xiu had done so far was use him as bait for evil spirits: just little scuffles that one could grit one’s teeth and endure.
Now, listening to the real story of this E, Lao Jin only felt annoyed. Cops are so stubborn. While alive, they kept messing with him, and now even dead they were causing trouble.
But it didn’t matter. All the evil spirits had been wiped out. By tomorrow at 11:45 a.m., Fang Xiu would destroy the E.
He just had to hold on…
“Oh, right.” Fang Xiu spoke slowly. “Later tonight during the Blood Night, I have to go look after my companions. There’s still time before tomorrow at 11:45. Want me to hand him over so you can have some fun?”
He smiled, pointing at Lao Jin.
Li Shuo seemed disinterested. “Fun or not fun, it doesn’t matter. I’ve killed plenty of drug dealers…”
“Luo Jincheng, fifty years old, from Yin Province. He’s a major drug lord in Gui Province, known as ‘Boss Jin’. He’s run amok in Anhe City for fourteen years. Indirectly, he’s killed hundreds, including anti-drug police.”
“He’s the hardest type to deal with: he only lets his underlings do the dirty work while he hides in the shadows. Since mortal law needs evidence, the police usually only catch his henchmen. Even if they suspect him, it’s difficult to find conclusive proof.”
Hearing “Anhe City in Gui Province”, Li Shuo’s eyelids lifted, and his brow furrowed slightly.
Fang Xiu spoke softly, “Among his subordinates, the most infamous was someone called ‘Er Gui.’”
“…Ha, well isn’t that a coincidence!” Li Shuo suddenly gave a loud laugh. “I changed my mind. Hand him over… I’ll have some fun.”
He bared his teeth at Fang Xiu. “But don’t think I don’t know your plan. You want me to torture him so he’ll release your companions.”
Fang Xiu was forthright, tossing the demon-revealing mirror to Li Shuo. “Yes. If you can make him free them, great; if not, whatever. Do what you want.”
“Leave him to me.”
Li Shuo smiled even more brightly.
Then he lowered his head, staring at Lao Jin without blinking. As he watched, part of Li Shuo’s skull on one side caved in, and the whites of his eyes gradually turned blood-red. His intact skin cracked into gaping wounds, looking gruesome as if he’d broken some taboo.
In just a few seconds, Li Shuo revealed his ghostly form right there.
Yin energy billowed around them, and Guan He closed his eyes in fear. Lao Jin froze, not daring to speak. Who could say what grudge this ghost might hold against him?
“Oh, by the way,” Fang Xiu added somewhat awkwardly, “if you accidentally kill him, save his soul for me, would you? I’d like to give my ghost a little snack…”
“No need,” Bai Shuangying suddenly said, still staring at Li Shuo.
Fang Xiu tensed. “?”
Shit, why did his ghost suddenly not want a meal?!
“Judging by your expression, you have some personal history with him. I’d rather not fight someone else for table scraps. Let’s just leave it at that.” Bai Shuangying glanced at Fang Xiu and added calmly.
Li Shuo looked surprised but soon smiled. “Thanks.”
After that, no one brought up the photo. They simply chatted about everything under the sun, from popular TV shows to recent news.
The barbecue stall became the liveliest spot on that street. The police officer’s features were distinct among the many faceless figures, and compared to the illusory crowds everywhere, he seemed more like one of Fang Xiu’s crew.
He sat beside Li Shuo, smiling silently, like a particularly quiet friend.
……
At six the next morning, in front of the arch.
The survivors gathered beneath it. Fang Xiu stood with Bai Shuangying and Guan He on either side, Cheng Songyun and Mei Lan behind.
Things were busier around Li Shuo. He had brought a chair over and placed his police-officer big brother in it.
Next to that chair lay a lump of unrecognizable flesh, its features and limbs too mangled to see. It quivered weakly, barely drawing breath. The sight was so gory that Cheng Songyun kept trying to cover Guan He’s eyes.
“You didn’t kill him?” Fang Xiu guessed the lump was Lao Jin.
No wonder he was a half-step ghost immortal. Li Shuo’s methods of torture were indeed a cut above.
“I’ll kill him when we burn the photo. I want to take his corpse out with me.”
Li Shuo tossed the demon-revealing mirror back to Fang Xiu. “I got what you wanted out of him. Once he stops breathing, the spell breaks automatically.”
Catching the blood-smeared bronze mirror, Fang Xiu let out a low hiss. “Impressive.”
“Alright, hurry it up. Don’t dawdle.” Li Shuo waved him on. “Once we’re out of here, I’ll tell you about my obsession.”
Fang Xiu froze momentarily and pressed his lips together.
Fwoosh.
The lighter sparked to life. The flame instantly caught the archway, and tongues of fire raced up the pillars, illuminating the policeman’s illusory face.
The moment it ignited, a sudden change occurred.
With a shrill screech, Li Shuo’s ghost form abruptly manifested, both eyes turning pitch black.
He lunged straight at Fang Xiu. Meanwhile, the flames from the arch condensed into clusters of fire, firing like bullets at everyone else.
All of this happened in a split second.
Because Fang Xiu had prepared, Guan He instantly used the Five-Ghost Relocation to snatch the lighter. Yet Bai Shuangying didn’t follow the plan to cover for him. Instead, he stood in front of Fang Xiu.
In the next moment, Bai Shuangying and Li Shuo both vanished on the spot.
They were hidden.
“All things in this world have their destined order. When was it ever right to manipulate someone’s mind and force them into immortality…? Over the years, the Underworld has grown more and more pitiful.”
With his left hand, Bai Shuangying easily immobilized Li Shuo. Then with two fingers of his right hand pressed together, he made a faint, slicing motion.
The author has something to say:
Next chapter, we’ll finally uncover the story of the “E”.
Their reactions:
Xiao Fang: “Move here, then here, then here. Watch me checkmate you in five moves!”
Xiao Bai: *smashes the chessboard with a single punch.*
It stood over two meters tall, wearing a tattered straw raincoat from centuries past. This evil spirit had hair and beard of pure white, and its face contained only a single deep black hole.
Amid the faceless crowd, it slowly turned its neck, selecting its prey…
A human, bound and lying on the ground.
That human was covered in wounds: one leg broken, the other missing a chunk from the calf. He seemed to have given up. He lay there barely breathing, the smell of fresh blood especially tantalizing. The straw-raincoat evil spirit knew that if it killed this man, it wouldn’t have to suffer weakness tomorrow.
The evil spirit concealed its presence, arching its back like an inchworm. Suddenly, it sprang toward its vulnerable prey.
Whoosh!
Right when it pounced, a rope from the darkness yanked, making the man vanish in an instant.
Simultaneously, a giant green serpent shot out from the crowd on the opposite side. The two evil spirits collided head-on with a dull thud.
The straw-raincoat evil spirit tried to back off, but the huge serpent instantly flew into a road-rage fury. Hissing and flicking its tongue, it coiled around its opponent. The straw-raincoat evil spirit thrust its head forward. From the black hole in its face, it spewed icy white vapor, flash-freezing part of the serpent’s body.
In a flash, their unlucky “traffic accident” became a life-or-death battle. The giant serpent constricted the straw-raincoat evil spirit; the evil spirit, in turn, tore at the frost-cracked serpent skin. Freezing mist billowed, a layer of frost formed on the ground, and chips of ice and black blood scattered in all directions.
Some ten paces away, Fang Xiu watched the spectacle with delight. “Tear it good! Tear it louder!”
Bai Shuangying: “……”
When he first devised his concealment skill, it was purely to avoid the world whenever he was out of sorts.
After staying with Fang Xiu for less than ten days, he had witnessed a hundred-plus unscrupulous uses for “concealment”.
What other absurd tricks would this human come up with? Bai Shuangying couldn’t help feeling a twinge of anticipation.
But this was already the last pair of evil spirits on the pedestrian street.
Just as Bai Shuangying found mouth-to-mouth contact baffling, evil spirits likewise couldn’t grasp it. If their “faces” collided, they wouldn’t head to the bridal chamber. They’d start a bloody brawl instead.
Lao Jin had done a fine job as their “Underworld apple”, successfully sending two pairs of powerful evil spirits to the Yellow Springs.
Behind them, Guan He hesitated. “Fang Ge, shouldn’t we keep a few evil spirits alive just in case? If time runs short…”
Right after driving a wedge between the humans, Fang Xiu turned around and incited the evil spirits, highlighting a strategy of wiping out both man and ghost alike. It was enough to make him feel a bit unsettled watching it all.
Fang Xiu: “Don’t worry. The ‘E’ here isn’t hard to break.”
Guan He’s eyes lit up. “I get it, you’re sticking around now so you can rescue Blondie and the rest!”
He’d known all along Fang Xiu was actually from the authorities. He said he wouldn’t save everyone, but deep down he was still softhearted.
Now it was Fang Xiu’s turn to hesitate. He glanced at Guan He helplessly. “If that’s what you think…then sure.”
Time ticked by. The two evil spirits in front were weakening.
They were evenly matched and had fought each other into serious injuries. By now, neither wanted to abandon its “sunk cost”, so they continued trading blows in a back-and-forth manner.
Fang Xiu handed Lao Jin’s leash over to Guan He and went to finish things up. He grabbed a can of some drink, holding it like a brick, and walked straight toward the straw-raincoat evil spirit.
Bai Shuangying stood up as well.
Bored to the tips of his hair, he decided to be a good friend and help Fang Xiu kill the other evil spirit.
But just as Bai Shuangying was about to follow, Fang Xiu pressed a hand to his chest.
“They’re mine. Don’t interfere,” Fang Xiu said earnestly.
Bai Shuangying looked at Fang Xiu’s slender arms, his expression full of confusion. Fang Xiu, as though provoked, flexed his arm. “Don’t be fooled by how I look. I have muscles!”
Bai Shuangying spared him no dignity. “Guan He has an easier time dragging Lao Jin than you would with anything else.”
Fang Xiu pretended not to hear, brandishing his canned-drink bludgeon. “Anyway, stay out of this. Watch me show what a real tough guy looks like…”
With no choice, Bai Shuangying stayed put, watching Fang Xiu use an aluminum can to subdue demons.
Pity those two powerful evil spirits, pinned down one at a time by that human who kept bashing their heads. They had no words for such misery.
Rather than the fisherman benefiting from the clam and snipe’s battle*, it looked more like the fisherman was entering a melee and the clam was there to pick up scraps. At least a clam had a shell; Fang Xiu was all soft flesh.
*Idiom referring to while the main parties are engaged in their dispute, a cunning third party can seize the opportunity to gain an advantage or profit. It derives from a fable, which you can read in my Kinky Thoughts.
…Come to think of it, the previous four powerful evil spirits had also been killed by Fang Xiu.
Each time, he charged in excitedly and hammered away for ages, illustrating the principle of “water dripping through stone, rope sawing through wood*”.
*Proverb referring to as long as one persists, one can accomplish difficult things even with little power.
No matter how gravely wounded the evil spirits were, Fang Xiu couldn’t finish them in one blow. The murder process was unclear as to whether it was a finishing stroke or an extended interrogation. After seeing it repeated, Bai Shuangying felt tired, like watching a baby beast gnaw on meat too tough to chew.
Half-Mountain watched from not too far away, though who knew what feelings that half-step ghost immortal was harboring.
……
In the end, aside from Half-Mountain, there were no evil spirits left on the pedestrian street.
Fang Xiu didn’t immediately go after Half-Mountain.
He plopped onto the ledge of a flowerbed and, while sipping his drink, asked casually, “Xiao Guan, about that accident with your brother. Would you mind telling me the details?”
His voice was very clear, not drowned out by the street’s lively music.
The relief on Guan He’s face faded. He pressed his lips together, his expression turning a bit gloomy.
“I don’t mind,” he whispered.
Guan He was from Fengzhou City in Gui Province, not far from Taiyi City where Fang Xiu lived.
When Guan He was six, his father died in a car accident. At that time, his mother was pregnant with his little brother, and the family’s living conditions drastically deteriorated.
The accident that took his brother happened on Guan He’s eleventh birthday.
His mother had been so busy with work the previous year that she forgot Guan He’s birthday. This year, by late evening, she still hadn’t come home. Guan He got upset and took his brother to “run away from home”.
It was barely a protest. His little brother was too young, and he planned to return home soon.
By then it was late. On the street, someone was selling shiny balloons and string lights. His little brother couldn’t tear his eyes away and demanded they buy one. Guan He saw the balloon seller packing up; since there were no cars around, he led his brother through the red light.
Guan He took big steps, his little brother holding onto his hand and lagging half a step behind.
The speeding car that caused the accident struck in a flash. The moment his little brother vanished from sight, Guan He only felt his hand go suddenly empty, without even time to react.
Once again, a car accident destroyed Guan He’s family.
His mother continued to work around the clock, and with his little brother gone, Guan He moved into a dorm.
She would still support him financially, paying for his schooling, but from that day on, aside from simple greetings at the New Year, mother and son almost never spoke.
This included the Mid-Autumn Festival, especially the Mid-Autumn Festival.
Guan He believed his mom must hate him.
He didn’t know how to get along with her, and she had no idea how to face him. The days blurred by for five years, until now: at sixteen, Guan He was dragged into the Disaster Relief Tower.
Fang Xiu listened with his head tilted. “Did you deliberately lead your brother through the red light?”
“What?” Guan He was too stunned to parse that question.
“Your life became a mess after your brother was born. You had to take extra care of him; your mom obviously focused more on your little brother… When you took him across on a red light, did you secretly hope he’d disappear?”
Guan He’s breathing became rapid with anger. “Of course not!”
“I see. Sorry,” Fang Xiu apologized sincerely. “What about the drug dealer driving that car? Do you remember his name?”
“Du Baocai,” Guan He said immediately. “He was shot to death.”
Fang Xiu’s eyebrows twitched.
He hadn’t heard the name before, but the surname was interesting.
Guan He was still upset; mindful of Fang Xiu’s position, he held back. “I loved my brother. I never wanted him gone. Mom wasn’t around, so we basically depended on each other.”
He took a deep breath, trying not to let his voice tremble.
“Why would I hate him? He was only four. He didn’t know anything… If anything, he should hate me…”
“It’s retribution,” he couldn’t help murmuring. “Me ending up here… It must be my karmic punishment…”
“That can’t be. Your sin isn’t that big,”
Fang Xiu patted his back. “I can only say the way ‘sacrifices’ are chosen has flaws.”
“The way sacrifices are chosen?” Guan He looked up.
“Right. Look at the kinds of people we’ve run into. It can’t be a coincidence. The Underworld clearly has a set of criteria.”
Fang Xiu nudged Lao Jin with his toe. “At first, I thought the standard was ‘a debt of human lives’.”
“…Isn’t it?” Guan He asked, head drooping again.
“Think about it: plenty of heroes have killed. If the Underworld grabbed living war heroes for sacrifice, the Yin and Yang sides would be a war.”
“But so far, the mortal side is simply turning a blind eye. The real threshold must be stricter, like having a blood debt yet lacking any measure of virtue.”
Blood debt, no virtue.
Such a filter would catch those who harmed others for selfish reasons, as well as the culprits of accidental manslaughter.
Taking the latter also made some sense…
Some people dropped objects from high-rise buildings, killing passersby; some drove drunk, causing an accident that killed others; arrogant parents would drag their children to dangerous places, putting them into harm’s way; some spread malicious rumors to the point of driving others to suicide.
Though they didn’t necessarily have murderous intent, mortal law wouldn’t treat them as murderers. Yet in terms of karmic retribution, claiming their hands were clean wouldn’t ring true.
In the end, the “E” required living humans to solve. From the mortal perspective, these people were the “most cost-effective price”.
So-called “disaster relief sacrifices” were likely a compromise between the two realms.
But in a world with countless blood debts, it was impossible for each selection of sacrifices to undergo a joint investigation. So people like Guan He ended up as tragic misjudgments in this system.
Guan He listened quietly, showing little reaction, calmly accepting reality.
Perhaps because he’d been tormented by guilt for so long, he didn’t feel especially wronged.
Fang Xiu patted his shoulder and finished off his drink.
“…So even in such a case, can you accept it? That this kid deserves to die here?”
Fang Xiu tossed the can into a trash bin, then abruptly raised his voice. “You’ve been eavesdropping all along, haven’t you, oh ‘Almost-Ghost-Immortal’?”
Bai Shuangying instinctively looked toward Half-Mountain’s location. Fang Xiu glanced at his ghost and likewise shifted his stance.
But under the bright moon and amid the bustling street, there was no response anywhere.
“I just want to have a face-to-face conversation.”
Fang Xiu sighed. “I can break the E at any time, but I’d rather not leave without a word.”
“You should know that once I break it, the Underworld will protect us unconditionally. Then there’ll be nothing you can do… I don’t think you want that to be your ending.”
Half-Mountain remained hidden, silent.
Bai Shuangying prodded Fang Xiu. “Saying empty words is pointless. You really think Half-Mountain would trust you after watching you all this time?”
Fang Xiu: “……” What do you mean, be clearer!
But when Bai Shuangying put it that way, Fang Xiu realized he indeed had no good retort.
After a long pause, Fang Xiu rubbed his face in frustration and quietly muttered, “Fine…”
He truly didn’t seem inclined to fight. Snark aside, Bai Shuangying was curious how this would unfold.
But just in case, he stood silently behind Fang Xiu, ready to grab him if the situation turned sour.
All Fang Xiu did was step on the bloody mess that was Lao Jin, taking out Lao Jin’s gold-plated lighter.
Click.
Flame flared up, and once again, tiny fireballs danced. However, Fang Xiu had just finished killing evil spirits and was covered in sweat, lessening the burn somewhat.
Fang Xiu stared at the dancing flame, not extinguishing it.
“If heartfelt words won’t work, I’ll show you reason.”
He took a deep breath. “The E’s taboos are absolute; violating them triggers an immediate effect. But this ‘fire taboo’ is different. From the moment of ignition to the appearance of the fireballs, there’s a slight delay.”
“This isn’t a taboo at all. This is a spell you used to mislead us, isn’t it?”
With that, he smiled.
“Clever tactic. After all, if someone uncovered the ‘third’—actually, the real ‘first’—taboo, it’d be easy to guess the E’s true form.”
“Too bad I already know what that first taboo is. Your emphasis on forbidding open flame just reaffirms my suspicion.”
Sizzle-sizzle, the fireballs continued to sear Fang Xiu’s skin. The lighter grew hot, yet he kept it lit.
Listening to Fang Xiu talking to thin air, Guan He grew confused. “What do you mean, the real first taboo…? Isn’t it ‘at a quarter to noon, pay one life’?”
Fang Xiu: “Before each ritual starts, floor two’s environment adapts to the location. Xiao Guan, you should recall that.”
“Yes, I remember,” Guan He thought for a couple of seconds.
“This time, floor two took the form of a residential building’s stairwell, with an old-fashioned door at the entrance. But there’s no connection here at all to a pedestrian street.”
“When we entered the ritual, there was that bizarre spinning, that strange freezing phenomenon. It’s more likely that we’ve been moved away from the real scene by the E, trapped in some separate dimension rather than the Underworld messing up the theme.”
Fang Xiu’s gentle, clear voice carried far.
“What’s more interesting is that while an E normally draws all sorts of evil spirits, the ones here are all vicious and bloodthirsty, like they’ve been hand-picked. Meanwhile, we ’sinners’ were carefully selected by the Underworld. We’re basically half evil spirits ourselves, in that our souls are bound to magic weapons.”
“The E locked us in here happily. I think the real first taboo is, ‘Any evil spirit bearing a blood debt cannot leave’.”
“Add the ‘at a quarter to noon, pay one life’ clause, and you’ve got a perfect execution chamber. Dangerous individuals forced to kill each other, leaving no survivors.”
He paused, looking genuinely impressed.
“…Fascinating, right? Good news: this E protects the innocent. Bad news: it’s protecting the innocent from ‘us’.”
Guan He panicked. “Are you sure this is a separate dimension? If we’re trapped, how do we find the E?”
“Xiao Guan, think. Besides an illusion, what else does this street resemble?”
His voice rose, as if directed at the still-hidden Half-Mountain.
Guan He swallowed, trying to gather his thoughts:
“This place is small, its boundaries weird. That’s already unlike our previous ritual.”
“The sky never changes. It’s always a full moon, always the Mid-Autumn Festival.”
“The food and drinks here have no taste. The passersby are just silhouettes, repeating the same actions.”
Fang Xiu wiggled the lighter. “Yes, and I’ll add another point. When night falls, the scene outside freezes entirely, and a giant face stares down from above. If it sees you, you die.”
An unending Mid-Autumn Festival night, a world that could freeze at a moment’s notice, a giant face peering from the sky, and all that emphasis on “no fire”…
Wait, could this place be…?
Guan He stared blankly at Fang Xiu.
In Fang Xiu’s hand, the lighter still burned quietly.
At some point, those small fireballs had ceased scalding him. They bobbed around him like tiny fireflies.
As if hearing Guan He’s thoughts, Fang Xiu continued calmly…
“A ‘dimension’ this realistic can’t appear out of thin air. I suspect we’ve been locked inside a photograph since the start of this ritual.”
“On the other hand, the E’s rules all hinge on this place. So I suspect that this Mid-Autumn Festival photo is itself the ‘E’.”
At Fang Xiu’s feet, Lao Jin let out a weak groan.
Guan He’s face changed gradually. “But… the people on the street have no faces…”
“That’s the real clue, which Lao Jin probably knows even better. There is a certain group of people who want to protect the innocent, aware that showing your face in a photo could cost your life.”
…How to sensibly destroy a photo?
…Simple: you burn it.
Fang Xiu raised the lighter in a gesture like making a toast. “Mr. Almost-Ghost-Immortal, you’re also trapped here, yet you’re so in sync with the E… Could it be that when you were alive, you were some sort of informant?”
“Haa.”
At last, a sigh echoed, and a figure materialized under the moonlight.
Bai Shuangying narrowed his eyes and placed a hand on Fang Xiu’s shoulder. Fang Xiu reassured him with a gentle squeeze of his sleeve, then turned to the newcomer.
Half-Mountain looked entirely human, except his face, unlike the faceless passersby, had normal, distinct features.
He appeared young, at most in his early twenties, short and rather plain, with a kind of rough, slouchy thug-like posture.
“I’m no informant. Not that selfless,”
Half-Mountain played absently with an unlit cigarette, giving Lao Jin a pointed glance and grinning.
“To use the words of that pretentious guy… How did it go? I’m just another loser at the bottom…”
“…I just happened to make a pretty good friend.”
Kinky Thoughts:
The Sandpiper (Snipe) and the Clam
One day, taking advantage of the sunny weather, a clam opened up its hard shell to bask in the sun on the banks of the river. A sandpiper saw it and quickly put its beak into the clam shell to peck at the meat inside. The calm hurriedly closed its hard shell and sealed the sandpiper’s mouth shut. The sandpiper couldn’t peck at the meat, and its mouth was sealed shut, so it threatened the clam and said, “If you don’t loosen your clamp on me, you will eventually die of thirst.” The clam responded without showing weakness, “Your mouth has been clamped by me. If you can’t pull it free, you’ll starve to death!” In this way, the clam and sandpiper fought each other on the beach, and neither would relent. Over time, they became exhausted. A fisherman happened to pass by, and when he saw that they were tightly entangled and neither could move, he easily caught them and took them both home.”
This story was told during the Warring States Period, when the Qin Empire was strongest. On one occasion, the Empire of Zhao declared war on the State of Yan. At the time, the king’s younger brother, Su Dai, was entrusted to go to the Empire of Zhao to persuade the King of Zhao not to send troops. When he arrived, the King of Zhao demanded what he was doing here, to which he told the fable.
After finishing, Su Dai said to the King of Zhao, “If the Empire of Zhao and the State of Yan go to war, the two sides will inevitably be at a standstill for a long time, eventually becoming exhausted. In this way, the mighty Qin Empire will be like the fisherman, who just needs to sit back and reap the benefits. Your Majesty, please consider it carefully before making a decision.” The King of Zhao felt that what Su Dai said was reasonable and dispelled the idea of attacking the State of Yan.
After killing the Black Mirage, Guan He finally came to his senses.
Fang Xiu was truly formidable. That terrifying brute, Mazi that was as huge as a tower, was toyed with and killed as if he was nothing. Fang Xiu had only used his concealment, while also letting Guan He deliver the finishing blow. The efficiency was frighteningly high.
As expected of a professional operative from the authorities, he was indeed reliable.
As for what Fang Xiu and Lao Jin had discussed, “the Underworld raising a ghost immortal”, or “those with blood debts chosen as sacrifices”, Guan He didn’t believe a word of it. Lao Jin was a drug dealer who deserved to die, so Fang Xiu was definitely feeding him a line.
Guan He ran to a nearby shop to check the time and returned with excitement. “Fang Ge, it’s not even ten yet. We still have two hours!”
Now their only enemy left was Lao Jin!
With Guan He’s “Five-Ghosts Relocation” skill, he could start by snatching away the demon-revealing mirror. Without Mazi and that mirror, Lao Jin was like a tiger whose claws and teeth had been pulled. With Fang Xiu and Guan He, two young men, how could they not handle a guy around forty or fifty?
They’d already won, Guan He thought.
But Fang Xiu merely let out a breath, rummaging through the blood pool on the ground. “Come on, Xiao Guan, have a snack. You barely ate this morning.”
Guan He: “……”
He decided to rephrase. “Fang Ge, there are only two hours left until a quarter to noon. We still need to rescue everyone and then kill some more evil spirits…”
Fang Xiu: “Why save them?”
Beside him, Bai Shuangying was leisurely molding Mazi’s living soul. The ghost was eyeing the advertising sign at the mouth of the alley, carefully pressing the words “Mid-Autumn Festival” onto his “soul mooncake”.
Under the moonlight, one figure dressed in red, the other in white, huddled together. From head to toe, they exuded a relaxed vibe, giving no sign of wanting to move.
Guan He stared, dumbfounded. “?”
At a time like this, and he still wouldn’t rescue their own people? Why?
Fang Xiu smiled. “Xiao Guan, suppose you’re Lao Jin. Quarter to noon is almost here, and I haven’t shown up yet. What would you do?”
Guan He answered without hesitation. “I’d kill someone.”
The evil spirits that were left were quite strong. Lao Jin couldn’t possibly take them on alone.
“And of the four people in the mirror, whom would you kill first?”
Guan He frowned. “Che… Auntie Cheng…?”
Cheng Songyun was older and shorter, plus she’d been obediently tied up all night. Someone like Lao Jin would definitely pick the weakest.
At that, Guan He suddenly recalled, “But Auntie Cheng has her Resentful Ghost Shield.”
Fang Xiu laughed even more. “Then what?”
“Then…then Lao Jin discovers he can’t break the shield, so he won’t risk wasting any more time. Next, he’ll release Mei Lan…” Guan He continued to reason.
Among the remaining two men and one woman, Lao Jin would know which person was easiest to handle.
“Exactly. Cheng Jie’s shield can protect an extra person, and the shield isn’t affected by spells. Once they’re out of the mirror, they won’t be shoved back in. Then what?”
Guan He shook his head. “…I’m guessing Lao Jin won’t free Blondie and Jia Xu. He’s not that stupid. He wouldn’t release everyone so they could gang up on him.”
“…Then Lao Jin would just wait in place until he triggers the taboo,” Fang Xiu stretched, explaining casually.
“Going one-on-one with an evil spirit or continuing to release people would both be risky. He’ll figure there’s no need to take chances. Worst case, everyone triggers the taboo.”
“Even if everyone’s weak, he’s in better shape physically than Cheng Jie or Mei Lan. If he quickly kills one of them, that’s enough.”
Guan He was stunned. “But Cheng Jie…”
“Yes, Lao Jin doesn’t know that the Resentful Ghost Shield doesn’t rely on Cheng Jie’s own power. It’s sustained by the ghost’s energy. All it requires is for her to remain conscious, and the shield won’t break. She’s got decent willpower. Trust her.”
Guan He fell silent.
So Fang Xiu had sent Cheng Songyun into the mirror specifically to trip Lao Jin up.
He used trickery to separate Lao Jin from Mazi, ensuring their mutual destruction. Even at the cost of using his own companions… This so-called professional from the authorities seemed downright ruthless.
“I don’t have much choice,”
Fang Xiu said at just the right moment. “If we confronted Lao Jin right now, he wouldn’t release anyone, even if it meant triggering the taboo. Someone like him knows perfectly well that once he loses his bargaining chip, he’s as good as dead.”
As for Lao Jin’s “mirror imprisonment” ability, Fang Xiu had consulted Bai Shuangying about it.
But his ghost only stared at him for a while, indicating that the magic setup of an inanimate object was easy to read, but the “underhanded ways of humans” were unpredictable as far as gods or spirits were concerned. Fang Xiu had to let it go.
The more he thought, the more Fang Xiu sighed. “…Lao Jin will say that once he’s dead, anyone inside the mirror is trapped forever, forcing us to protect him. Who knows if that’s true. We can’t risk it.”
Guan He, confused, asked, “But according to your plan, he still won’t release Blondie and Jia Xu, right?”
Fang Xiu sighed more heavily. “If I can, I’ll save at least one person. I’m no bodhisattva. I can’t guarantee universal salvation.”
Guan He: “……”
It was logical enough, but he couldn’t help feeling Fang Xiu had a subtle “it doesn’t matter if those two die” vibe.
…Probably just my imagination, he thought.
While they spoke, Bai Shuangying finished shaping his “mooncake”.
The living soul was pristine white and round, topped with delicate patterns. It looked just like one of the snowy mooncakes sold outside. Bai Shuangying believed the shape really did matter. After fiddling for over ten minutes, he was now even more eager to eat.
He took the mooncake with deliberate care and took a small bite.
Indeed, Mazi, bearing heavier blood debts than Yan Jing or Dashun, tasted even better.
Whereas Dashun was rich and smooth, Mazi’s flavor was intense, a fiery taste that exploded in the mouth, making the ghost crave bite after bite.
The living soul revived his decrepit body a little more. Bai Shuangying felt slightly better, and as a result, even the humans around him seemed more tolerable.
He had to admit, his human was really a pro at picking which souls to harvest.
Sensing his ghost’s gaze, Fang Xiu tilted his head with a playful grin.
“Speaking of which, Half-Mountain hasn’t yet built up full strength, so how’d he manage to get recognized by the E? …Didn’t Shan Hunzi say cultivating an E is harder?”
Old Man Fu cultivated for ten years to become the village head, yet when his efforts collapsed, he went mad with rage. This pedestrian street seemed more modern than that, so it must have been built in the last decade. Half-Mountain’s cultivation time was even shorter, yet he’d already handled the E.
Half-Mountain’s power couldn’t be underestimated. Fang Xiu had no intention of letting his guard down.
Bai Shuangying recalled for a moment.
Oh, Half-Mountain, that almost ghost immortal.
“When an evil spirit cultivates an ‘E’, it also depends on whether they’re ‘in tune’ with it.”
Bai Shuangying, in a good mood from the mooncake, gave a rare explanation. “Once there was a fierce general among humans who died in battle, harboring powerful resentment. He became a vengeful ghost, and his beloved sword became an E.”
“The general had fought countless times with that sword, so they recognized each other on the spot, and he ascended to ghost immortality.”
Fang Xiu understood. Other evil spirits had to cram into a single-log bridge, but that general basically leaped straight into a PhD program.
“So the better the evil spirit ‘understands’ the E’s karma, the more easily it can cultivate it.”
Fang Xiu concluded, “Which means it comes down to compatibility. Most evil spirits have to ‘obey the superficial rules’ because that’s all they can do.”
Lacking compatibility would be like a scammer with a southern accent trying to pass as the grandson of a northern old man. It was essentially nightmare mode.
Some evil spirits remain stuck as the ‘village head’ for ten years, while others jump to ‘immortal’ in under a decade. In this case, rather than human envy, it’s ghost envy*.
*Clarity: This is a play-on of the idiom: comparing one person to another drives you to the brink of death, comparing one piece of merchandise to another make you want to throw it away (人比人得死，货比货得扔). In this case, merchandise is replaced with ghost, so the translation would come out roughly: just like humans, comparison for ghost is just as bad. The idiom refers to not comparing yourself or the things you have with others, since it will often lead to dissatisfaction or discouragement (AKA comparison is the thief of joy).
“Why are you suddenly asking about this?” Bai Shuangying inquired in turn.
“I was thinking if I should catch Half-Mountain for you to eat. But on second thought, maybe not,” Fang Xiu mumbled softly.
Bai Shuangying halted mid-bite. “You’re afraid of it?”
“No, it’s not that.”
Fang Xiu shook his head, looking unusually serious. He leaned on Bai Shuangying’s shoulder, gazing at the moon for quite a while.
“Bai Shuangying, later will you walk through the street with me again, please?”
“Mm.”
……
Quarter to noon.
Lao Jin glared resentfully at the Resentful Ghost Shield. He lay on the ground, gripping the five emperor coins with one hand and the demon-revealing mirror with the other.
At this point, he knew Fang Xiu had tricked him again.
Sure, Fang Xiu might genuinely have been delayed and not made it back, but specifically tossing Cheng Songyun into the mirror was clearly aimed at messing him up…
With time running out, he’d decisively tried to kill Cheng Songyun first. But that blasted shield was impervious. Next, he summoned that young woman, but before she could even react, Cheng Songyun pulled her into the barrier, all in one fluid motion.
He couldn’t break that damn ghost shield!
Eating that loss, Lao Jin had no choice but to stay put, waiting for the taboo to trigger.
It didn’t matter what that shield was. He couldn’t believe those two women would last indefinitely inside. It wasn’t as if they had any food or water. He himself carried a small supply.
Additionally, he had the five emperor coins to hide himself from evil spirits, so as long as he kept calm, he could still win…
Lao Jin forced his breathing to steady, a vicious glint in his eyes.
All these years in cutthroat business, he’d never expected moral integrity. But Fang Xiu was just too baffling.
Fang Xiu had the knowledge of the death taboo while he was holding Fang Xiu’s companions. They could have negotiated peacefully. Yet Fang Xiu insisted on turning on him for seemingly no benefit.
Could it be that kid was simply reckless, bent on stirring the pot for no reason?
“Boss Jin, my god, what happened to you?”
A voice that made Lao Jin’s vision go dark suddenly rang out.
Fang Xiu, red-clad and blood-stained, had arrived belatedly, with no sign of Guan He or Mazi by his side.
Lao Jin lifted his head with difficulty and spat in Fang Xiu’s direction. “What do you think?”
“Beats me. Ah, this mirror looks heavy. Here, I’ll take it.”
Fang Xiu spoke casually as he reached out to pluck the demon-revealing mirror from Lao Jin’s grasp, nearly making Lao Jin choke.
He lifted the mirror, glancing sideways. It still showed no reflection of Fang Xiu.
How was that possible?
How had this person fooled an Underworld prop? If not for the mirror failing to warn him, Lao Jin would never have let himself be manipulated…
“Don’t bother, it won’t work.” Fang Xiu patted Lao Jin’s hand. “When you’re cleaning trash, do you feel ‘hostility’ toward the trash?”
“Garbage is just garbage. All I’m doing is tidying up.”
He spoke with self-evident logic with no hatred, no murderous intent in his tone.
Lao Jin, exhausted, let go of the mirror. This is a so-called “underground Daoist”? A real underground Daoist shouldn’t be this abnormal!
This kid had come up with that cover simply because he knew they were clueless about the metaphysical, thus seizing the advantage.
Recalling how he and Mazi had been played, Lao Jin gnashed his teeth. “You’re not an underground Daoist… You’re really…who…”
Fang Xiu looked at him seriously. “Actually, I’m a hospital janitor.”
Lao Jin was so stifled he literally saw spots. “Fuck…”
He was in taboo-violation mode and stood no chance against Fang Xiu, who was still in top form. Very quickly, Fang Xiu snatched up the little brass mirror, casually tossing it in his hand as if it were a toy.
Lao Jin: “…I…I said…”
“Mm-hmm, you said that even if I get the mirror, I can’t free people,” Fang Xiu responded vaguely. “Next you’ll say that if I kill you, I still won’t undo the spell?”
Lao Jin: “……”
Lao Jin: “…Yes.”
Never had he wanted to kill someone so badly. But with Mazi gone, there was nothing he could do. Seeing Fang Xiu’s hands stained with blood, it was likely Mazi was dead too.
…Now he was completely on his own.
…Next, Fang Xiu would surely torture him, forcing him to release the people from the mirror.
That didn’t matter. It was just torture. He’d spent decades in this underworld life and had seen his share of blood.
Resources here were limited. Fang Xiu couldn’t have many ways to torment him. If he could hold out long enough, Fang Xiu still had to break the E, and once it was done, the Underworld would take them away, even if Lao Jin was on the brink of death.
Lao Jin eyed Fang Xiu coldly as he reached out, assuming the man was about to take him apart. Instead… Fang Xiu patted him down from head to toe, like an airport security check, seizing his solid gold bodhisattva and his gold-plated lighter.
Luckily, Fang Xiu didn’t take the five emperor coins.
Just as Lao Jin was about to rejoice, the little bastard ran his hand over them… and the coins vanished in a shower of glowing motes.
Right after that, Fang Xiu flicked his wrist, and two headless evil spirits materialized in place. They stood there docilely, as if ready to be slaughtered.
Lao Jin: “???” Isn’t that fucking cheating?
“All right, Cheng Jie, come on out and deal with the taboo,” Fang Xiu tapped the Resentful Ghost Shield.
Then he gave Lao Jin a meaningful smile. “You don’t really think I have no way of dealing with this mirror, do you? Taking time to lift the curse is no big deal. I can wait.”
Right… That kid was definitely some kind of practitioner.
Lao Jin swallowed hard, a chill sinking into his heart, as if he heard his last bargaining chip shattering.
No, hold on, he told himself in a panic. Fang Xiu didn’t kill him yet, meaning he still had some use. He just had to hold on…
He wouldn’t release the people in the mirror until the last second.
……
Bai Shuangying couldn’t make sense of Fang Xiu’s next moves.
Not long ago, Cheng Songyun and Mei Lan had been freed from the taboo, and Fang Xiu sent them back to the base. He only told them to eat something and rest, acting as though everything was under control.
Now, here they were again, walking the lively street.
The two walked side by side, neither fast nor slow, blending perfectly into the crowd of faceless people enjoying the night.
Following behind them was a rather puzzled-looking Guan He, who in turn was dragging a much more bewildered Lao Jin. His hands and feet were tied with plastic rope and his mouth was stuffed with a rag, being dragged along like someone’s luggage.
Half-Mountain still trailed them from a distance, making no move to attack.
Bai Shuangying was too preoccupied to bother chasing Half-Mountain away. He had too many question marks in his mind, and only enough energy left to stroll around.
The street remained as bustling as when they had first arrived. Bright ads flickered on electronic screens. In the gift shop, everything sparkled. Sweet osmanthus scents wafted from a milk tea shop. At the barbecue stand, the young folks clinked glasses, while parents let children ride on their shoulders. The entire street was peaceful, the same as always.
Fang Xiu clung to Bai Shuangying’s sleeve, fireworks reflected in his eyes.
Bai Shuangying could sense a faint reluctance in Fang Xiu. He never let go of the ghost’s sleeve, repeatedly pointing out interesting details, as if this might be their last walk together.
Strange. Fang Xiu looked even more reluctant to leave than Bai Shuangying himself.
“Let’s play a new game.”
After strolling the whole street, Fang Xiu took hold of Lao Jin’s lead rope and turned, smiling at his ghost. “Bai Shuangying, do you know the apple biting game the bride and groom play?”
Bai Shuangying shook his head honestly.
Fang Xiu gestured enthusiastically. “You hang an apple between the bride and groom on a string so they both try to bite it. Then you yank it away.”
Bai Shuangying: “?”
Seeing his ghost not getting it, Fang Xiu said dejectedly, “And then the bride and groom end up kissing, you see.”
Bai Shuangying frowned. “Mouth to mouth—what’s the point?”
From his perspective, a mouth was meant for attacking or eating. Using it for something else seemed quite odd.
That stumped Fang Xiu as well. “I…I guess I don’t really know either. I’ve never tried kissing.”
Yet almost immediately, Fang Xiu’s spirits rebounded. “Anyway, I plan to do a version of that apple-biting game.”
A small matter, not impossible.
So Bai Shuangying leaned in close, then froze. “Do you have an apple?”
At this point, Bai Shuangying bent slightly, hair slipping like water. His pale eyes fixed on Fang Xiu’s lips, their noses nearly touching.
Fang Xiu stammered, his face slowly turning red, like he was about to play the role of the apple himself.
After a few seconds, he jerked his head away. “No, no, not that. It’s not for us to play. I’m going to use Lao Jin as the apple and lure the big evil spirits so they fight each other. Won’t that be fun?”
An appallingly malicious plan, but Fang Xiu made it sound as innocent as a children’s rhyme.
He spoke so rapidly that he bit his tongue at the end.
Bai Shuangying’s attention shifted. “But I don’t want to eat those evil spirits.”
Another quarter to noon had passed, leaving six large evil spirits total. But Bai Shuangying was waiting to taste Lao Jin’s living soul. The others didn’t appeal to him just yet.
Fang Xiu thumped his chest a few times, face still flushed. “We’ve got to wipe out all the evil spirits first. Only then can we go after Half-Mountain.”
Bai Shuangying mulled it over.
Half-Mountain still hadn’t made a move, likely aiming to swoop in at the end or otherwise protect the E. Fang Xiu wanted to clear the field first to avoid interference while confronting Half-Mountain. His caution was praiseworthy.
“So this time you’re planning to kill Half-Mountain before destroying the E,” Bai Shuangying surmised.
Fang Xiu closed his eyes briefly.
“Pretty much,” he said quietly. “Think of it as me gathering my bargaining chips.”
For the first time in a while, Bai Shuangying saw that look of sorrow on Fang Xiu’s face.
The author has something to say:
After all, Lao Jin is basically useless in a fight, so he can only serve as bait.
In this chapter, the fisherman gets fished instead (×
The Blood Night had vanished. The group, which only had four people remaining, didn’t rush outside right away.
Fang Xiu helped himself to roasted chicken and apples, plus two cans of Wangzai soda, starting his breakfast right then and there.
Guan He also received a canned yellow peach, for which Fang Xiu’s explanation was that “it’d be troublesome if he fainted.”
With Guan He’s hands still bound, Mazi fed him forcibly like stuffing a duck; Guan He choked now and then, coughing violently, yet Mazi showed no intention of slowing down.
At the table, Fang Xiu and Lao Jin ate as if nothing was happening.
“Is the third taboo ‘No Fire Allowed’?”
After Lao Jin finished describing it, Fang Xiu raised his eyebrows.
Lao Jin tossed him the lighter. “If you don’t believe me, try it yourself.”
Fang Xiu easily caught it. The lighter felt heavy and was a warm gold color, engraved with an elegant coin pattern. It was clearly expensive.
Click.
Fang Xiu lit the flame. Within the shadows, tiny fireballs appeared like fireflies, sizzling his flesh.
Yet Fang Xiu didn’t seem to feel pain. He contemplated for a few seconds, then closed the lighter with a snap, only to open and light it again.
Click. Click. Click…
Over and over, he repeated this process. The smell of scorched flesh hung in the air.
After doing it more than a dozen times, Fang Xiu’s arms were covered with burn marks which was ghastly to look at. But his brow gradually relaxed.
“No need to do that yourself.” Lao Jin glanced at Guan He, who was coughing violently.
In between motions, he quietly checked the bagua mirror. As before, only Guan He’s image was visible, showing nothing of Fang Xiu.
“I have no choice. For those of us in my line of work, there are some things you have to experience firsthand.”
Fang Xiu handed the lighter back to Lao Jin. “…This ‘taboo’ is pretty interesting.”
Lao Jin seemed intrigued. “Did you figure something out?”
“Mm, I have a guess. Let’s handle the first taboo this morning, and we’ll talk in the afternoon.”
Fang Xiu continued chewing his chicken, smoothly changing the subject.
A flash of displeasure crossed Lao Jin’s face. Fang Xiu didn’t look up, yet it was as if he had eyes on top of his head. “Boss Jin, there’s no point in pushing me. There’s an almost ghost immortal here. Undoing this ‘E’ won’t be simple.”
He then explained to Lao Jin what an almost ghost immortal was.
A human ascends to immortality by cultivating virtue; a ghost ascends by cultivating “E”.
The tidbits that Shan Hunzi had mentioned back then, Fang Xiu now explained thoroughly. Hearing how casually Fang Xiu presented it, most of Lao Jin’s suspicions eased.
“The Underworld using living humans to nourish a ghost immortal? Sure sounds that way,” Lao Jin quickly deduced.
Fang Xiu gave a cryptic “Mhm,” neither confirming nor denying.
Lao Jin stroked his chin and bluntly said, “So the mortal realm isn’t interfering. Maybe all these so-called ‘sacrifices’ carry blood debts?”
“Probably so. I’m sure you and I both have plenty of blood on our hands.”
Fang Xiu gestured for Mazi to release Guan He. “Perfect timing. Hey, Xiao Guan, tell us who you killed.”
Guan He spat out bits of peach, only regaining his breath after a while. Mazi clamped a hand around his neck again, clearly ready to use force if he wouldn’t talk.
“I…” Guan He hesitated for quite some time, his voice hoarse. “I caused my younger brother’s death.”
Fang Xiu: “More details.”
Guan He shut his eyes. “When I was eleven, I took my four-year-old brother across a red light. He was run over by a car and killed.”
At that, his voice began to tremble. “It-It was really late, though. There shouldn’t have been any cars… The driver was a speeding drug dealer…”
“Well, aren’t you good at shifting blame, kid,” Lao Jin sneered. “You being dragged here proves the heavens deemed you more guilty…”
“We call that ‘the karmic chain of a life’.” Fang Xiu cut in casually, as if by chance.
Lao Jin’s attention returned to Fang Xiu. “No wonder the Underworld specifically picks us as ‘sacrifices.’ All these ruthless folks I’ve met on the way, I was curious. Now it makes sense.”
He laughed coldly. “The state wants my life in the living world, and the Underworld wants my life here. At least after we finish this ritual, there’s a reward. The Underworld is kinder!”
“Funny enough, I prefer rituals too,” Fang Xiu responded, finishing off the chicken and licking his fingers.
He sounded genuinely at ease, and he wore a smile to match.
……
Bai Shuangying sat at the table, not caring to listen to their chatter.
He tilted his head slightly. In his pale eyes, countless chain-shadows were reflected. These were chains of karma that were slowly turning, forming a cage too dense to breach.
Bai Shuangying disliked staring too long at these chains. They constantly reminded him he was still a “prisoner”. Day by day, his corruption steadily crept along those chains, surging and receding like waves, like Jingwei filling the sea*.
*Idiom referring to unyielding determination in face of overwhelming odds. In this context, it’s used like a metaphor to describe a slow, almost impossible, process. It comes from the story of Jingwei, the daughter of Emperor Yandi, who drowns in the Eastern Sea. She is transformed into a small bird who then vows to fill the sea by endlessly carrying pebbles and twigs and dropping them into it.
So slow.
Bai Shuangying knew it was already the “fastest speed that wouldn’t draw the Underworld’s attention”, yet it was still too slow.
For countless centuries, these chains had held his true self tightly, rationing only enough yin energy for survival. In recent decades, that yin energy had dwindled sharply. If he did nothing, he would inevitably grow weak, then go mad.
The fresh living souls Fang Xiu caught were delicious, but they were only a drop of blood on the tip of the tongue, a fleeting respite for a starving beast. Nice, but not life-saving.
Bai Shuangying shifted his gaze to the chain that Fang Xiu had broken, his eyes devoid of any emotion.
When he finally escaped this seal, he would definitely destro…
Something warm brushed the tips of Bai Shuangying’s hair.
His thoughts, along with the illusory chain, were scattered by this sudden warmth.
Looking down, Bai Shuangying saw his long hair spread across the tabletop, right next to Fang Xiu’s arm.
As Fang Xiu moved, the strands occasionally grazed Fang Xiu’s burnt skin. Each time it happened, Fang Xiu would visibly relax, if only for a moment. The gently swaying ends of Bai Shuangying’s hair rose and fell in tandem with Fang Xiu, as though he had grown a second respiratory system out of thin air.
Bai Shuangying blinked.
Right, Fang Xiu seemed pretty confident in resolving this “E”, so his plan for a “two-person world” unsealing might fall through…
…Better hold off on destroying the world. The pressing task was to break his seal first.
With that in mind, Bai Shuangying nonchalantly nudged Fang Xiu’s head. Fang Xiu nearly choked on his drink but didn’t pull away.
The seal showed no reaction. Some of the drink splattered, prompting both of them to sigh softly in unison.
……
Right before heading out, Fang Xiu grabbed an old piece of cloth and wrapped it around Guan He’s head, like a condemned prisoner being prepared for execution.
Lao Jin: “His hands are bound tight. He can’t run.”
“I’m no match for Mazi Ge physically. Controlling him isn’t easy for me,” Fang Xiu said without looking up.
Lao Jin felt no extra pity for minors. After hearing that explanation, he couldn’t be bothered further.
During Fang Xiu’s rough “packaging”, Guan He’s wrists loosened a bit, and he felt something cold in his palm.
Fang Xiu discreetly retrieved the jade Buddha from Guan He’s pocket and slipped it into his hand. If Guan He cut his finger, he could activate it any time.
With the child ghost leading the way, covering Guan He’s face was no problem. If anything, it made him better at hiding his expressions.
More importantly, this way he wouldn’t see the bagua mirror. When Lao Jin locked people inside, he made them “look into the mirror” first. There had to be some trick there.
Fang Xiu truly was protecting him.
Relieved, Guan He drew a long breath through the cloth.
Finally, Fang Xiu used a plastic cord to lead Guan He’s bound hands. The four returned to the bustling Mid-Autumn festival street, the bright, pleasant music surrounding them once more.
After four days of this, almost no evil spirits remained on the street.
Those that did survive were large, troublesome ones. With just over two hours until noon, they couldn’t afford to waste much time.
“I marked their locations last night. Let’s start by targeting the weakest one.” Fang Xiu volunteered, leading the way.
At the same time, he lightly tugged a strand of Bai Shuangying’s hair. That was their agreed signal to “start the game.”
Lao Jin, oblivious to their silent exchange, nodded. “We’d better hurry, or some other evil spirit might beat us to it.”
He was still speaking when a crowd of faceless young people pressed in. Dressed in vibrant outfits, they waved their arms silently, like college students about to start their summer break.
Pushed by the tide of people, the four nearly got separated. Fortunately, their destination was just ahead, and they managed to slip into a dim alley.
They’d barely gone a short way in when Mazi abruptly halted, standing stock-still.
“What’s the matter?” Lao Jin frowned, reflexively casting a glance at Fang Xiu.
Fang Xiu turned around to look at Mazi trailing behind, his expression taut but doing nothing suspicious. “Something’s off,” Fang Xiu whispered. “Mazi isn’t right.”
Lao Jin focused his gaze, sucking in a cold breath…
There at the alley’s mouth stood Mazi, his back to the light.
His face was entirely blank, with no features at all!
Behind him, countless faceless passersby came and went, fireworks exploding in the sky without pause. Shadows flickered into the alley like some silent carnival.
A chill crawled down Lao Jin’s spine. For a moment, he dared not speak. Mazi stood motionless, like a statue.
“That crowd just now was the problem. That isn’t Mazi. The real Mazi got taken,” Fang Xiu said softly, stepping forward.
“Boss Jin, you stay hidden here. I’ll handle this.”
After a pause, Fang Xiu seemed to make up his mind. “I’ll take Guan He. If I don’t come back before quarter to noon, feel free to kill any of mine.”
Lao Jin nodded, gripping the demon-revealing mirror.
He had the five emperor coins for concealment and the ones trapped in the mirror for backup. There was nothing to worry about. Fang Xiu wouldn’t run off. He still had companions here.
He stole a quick glance at the mirror. Once again, Fang Xiu’s reflection didn’t appear.
Quietly, he stayed put, watching Fang Xiu’s departure.
Fang Xiu approached Mazi, now only a dozen steps away.
Mazi’s featureless face showed no emotion, but Fang Xiu knew he was standing there, warily eyeing Lao Jin. He stared at the man a dozen paces away who likewise lacked facial features.
From opposite ends of the dim alley, the two “faceless people” eyed each other with mounting suspicion.
Fang Xiu turned his back to Lao Jin and murmured softly to Mazi, “That crowd was the problem. That’s not Boss Jin. The real Boss Jin was taken.”
“Don’t alert him. Come with me. We can still make it in time!”
With that, he grabbed Mazi’s wrist firmly.
Alarmed by the suggestion that his boss might be in danger, Mazi didn’t resist. The two quickly left the mouth of the alley.
At the instant Mazi and Lao Jin split up completely, Bai Shuangying canceled the feature hiding both men’s facial features.
That had been their plan all along. If Fang Xiu pinched his sleeve, Bai Shuangying would hide the enemy’s face.
At first, Bai Shuangying had thought it was a baffling request. Wasn’t it just a bit of childish concealment to kill someone?
…Now he sort of understood. Humans truly were devious.
Fang Xiu led Mazi swiftly away from Lao Jin’s alley, jogging toward the far end of the street.
Mazi spoke in a low voice, “You reacted even later than I did just now. If something’s happened to the boss…”
“I don’t want him dead either, all right?” Fang Xiu snapped, pulling Mazi into another alley.
Fog rose up around them, concealing Fang Xiu’s laughter.
He had confirmed last night that this place was home to an evil spirit known as the “Black Mirage”, a slow-moving creature shaped like a rotting clam. Among the remaining evil spirit, it was the weakest.
But it excelled at illusions, enough to create a small “ghost wall” scenario.
All around them, gray fog spread quickly, and the narrow alley lengthened into a seemingly endless spiderweb of paths.
The environment warped and twisted, the air thick with a foul stench. Mazi soon sensed something was off. Worst of all, Fang Xiu suddenly released his wrist.
Startled, Mazi whipped around. “Hey, Fang—”
But the words died in his throat.
Fang Xiu stood a few steps behind him, face erased, completely blank.
Guan He, who’d been trudging along in a cloth hood, was nowhere to be seen, and in the foggy alley, all that was visible was Fang Xiu’s red figure.
A chill spread through Mazi’s scalp.
Over the years, he’d preferred solving things with his fists.
Colleagues or cops, as long as it was flesh and blood that he could beat to death, Mazi never flinched. He even relished the screams as blood and gore flew. Even with evil spirits, he could still fight.
…But what if the enemy was just an illusion?
…At what point had he actually lost track of his real companion?
Gritting his teeth, Mazi swung a fist at the faceless red-clad youth. The figure floated backward with ease, melting into the fog.
“Bai Shuangying,” Fang Xiu’s hidden voice came through, brimming with amusement. “Let me show you something fun.”
He let go of his ghost’s hand, rapping his fingertips lightly on Bai Shuangying’s wrist.
Bai Shuangying lowered his eyes, easily controlling the concealment…
Fang Xiu brushed his hand, hiding his face.
Fang Xiu caught hold of him, hiding his entire figure.
…They remembered each step.
An instant later, behind Mazi’s tense back, the faceless Fang Xiu appeared again. Bai Shuangying’s sleeves drifted like clouds behind him.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Fang Xiu softly applauded.
Then he turned his hand and gripped Bai Shuangying’s right hand. The moment Mazi realized something was happening, that red figure vanished.
“Show yourself!” Mazi bellowed, charging through the illusory alley in a fury.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
To his left, the faceless Fang Xiu reappeared, lightly clapping his palms.
Mazi roared and flung himself at him, but the red figure again melted into the fog without a trace.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Against Mazi’s ragged footsteps, sometimes Fang Xiu and Bai Shuangying’s hands were linked, sometimes not. Fang Xiu’s fingertips brushed Bai Shuangying’s cold hand, causing his body to appear and disappear.
Man and ghost spun happily within their concealment, like partners in a dance.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Accompanied by those ghostlike applause sounds, Fang Xiu’s faceless form flickered here and there.
Bai Shuangying watched Mazi shift from wary to enraged, and then from enraged to terrified. The self-assured predator in him had vanished, leaving only helpless prey in its place.
“Ma Haoben, age thirty-seven, from Yin Province. You’ve served as Boss Jin’s enforcer for twenty-one years, personally torturing and killing thirty-five people—two of them undercover cops…”
“Countless were injured at your hands. Many would love to see you die in agony…”
The voice drifted eerily, sometimes near, sometimes far.
“Get out here… out here…! Damn it, damn it…” The phantom applause closed in, and Mazi yelled as he backed away.
For the first time, his voice shook.
He kept backing up until he tripped, stumbling into a damp, squishy mass. A lid-like surface snapped shut, and a rank odor filled the air.
He’d finally found the evil spirit’s physical body, and it gave Mazi a shred of clarity.
Having been toyed with by an “illusion” all this time, he was boiling with rage. Tensing his muscles, Mazi forced open the evil spirit’s shell, ripping into the creature’s soft flesh with his bare hands.
Snarling, the Black Mirage sprayed him with a toxic corpse-laden slime.
Fuck, that creepy clapping had stopped. Sure enough, this thing had created that hallucination…
Mazi roared, unleashing all his strength, grappling with the Black Mirage. As an evil spirit specialized in illusions, it was poor in close combat. Its aura weakened…
Clap. Clap. Clap.
Mazi stiffened. He couldn’t help turning his head.
In that split second, a sturdy plastic cord looped around his neck.
…That was the same plastic rope Fang Xiu had used to tie Guan He, Mazi thought dimly.
The moment he grasped that fact, the rope drew tight.
Fang Xiu now appeared behind him, back to back. He pressed his entire weight onto the cord. Mazi’s body was slippery with that slime. He couldn’t get a grip on the strangling rope nor shake off Fang Xiu.
Shit… He’d exhausted himself fighting the evil spirit…
A warm body behind him… It was definitely a human… Fang Xiu… It was Fang Xiu all along…
Mazi’s eyes bulged, turning dark purple. His throat made a gurgling sound. He wanted to snap Fang Xiu’s limbs and twist Fang Xiu’s head clean off, but all he could do was flail uselessly.
After struggling madly for half a minute, Mazi slumped to the ground, dead, eyes still wide.
Fang Xiu let go of the plastic cord, nearly stumbling.
As expected of Boss Jin’s henchman. Even worn down, Mazi had almost been too much for Fang Xiu. After all that, the cord had cut Fang Xiu’s own hand so badly it was bleeding.
But that was perfect. Fang Xiu dipped his fingers in his own blood and drew a small circle, setting out a banquet for his ghost on the spot.
“Hah… If I were on my own, I could only lure people to kill each other…”
Having finished the circle, Fang Xiu leaned against Bai Shuangying, boneless and exhausted. “A two-person game really opens up a lot more possibilities…”
Bai Shuangying didn’t grab the living soul right away. He observed Fang Xiu with a thoughtful gaze, then nodded lightly.
Not far away, the Black Mirage, having been beaten nearly to death by Mazi, was no longer able to maintain the illusion.
As the mirage dissipated, Fang Xiu immediately called out to Guan He, who stood frozen in place. “Hurry, hurry, while it’s still alive, give it a few stomps.”
Guan He, still shell-shocked: “……”
But he obeyed, hopping on top of the Black Mirage’s soft body. After a round of trampling, the evil spirit followed Mazi’s fate.
Fang Xiu had achieved one kill.
Guan He had achieved another.
Thus satisfying the requirement of the first taboo.
They still had two hours left until a quarter to noon.
The author has something to say:
Fang Xiu (to Lao Jin): “I’ll tell you this afternoon.”
Fang Xiu (to himself): “But you won’t live to see the afternoon.”
Kinky Translations 