Chapter 11: The Relic of Lady Meng (Please support and bookmark the new book)
Splash... The talisman paper ball trembled several times before rolling to Qin Ye’s side. In just a brief three seconds, the moment of instant killing, boundless dark energy surged from his body, rising to the heavens of the Underworld. Five seconds later, he had once more assumed the appearance of a ghost official in uniform.
“So this is the power of the Six Kings of Ghosts?” he stared at his hands in astonishment. Just seconds ago, he thought Alakshasa was an invincible force. Now, with these very hands, he had ended her?
The gap in strength was so vast, the entire battle passed like a fleeting shadow—he hadn’t even reacted before it was over.
This... was like catching Pikachu with a Master Ball... far too easy...
He bent down and picked up the talisman paper ball. No sooner had he grasped it than a venomous voice echoed, “Kid... even with the Six Kings of Ghosts possessing you, your meager power could never exorcise me! I... propose a deal. Let me go, and today’s events will be forgotten.”
“Heh.” Qin Ye replied with two classic monosyllabic words, then unhesitatingly stuffed her into his pocket.
Leaving her here was impossible—what if she came back to life? Was he to live in constant fear in the world of the living? There’s a thousand days for a thief, but never a thousand days to guard against one.
Taking her home was risky, but at least he’d know immediately if anything changed.
Simply put,
He was afraid to die.
Any entity that threatened his survival was heretical!
With Alakshasa’s interference gone, the shattered black butterflies gathered once again, forming a black whirlwind that carried him directly into the world of the living.
………………………………………………
Hours later, the two stone-like figures at the table remained. Suddenly, Granny Meng’s body turned to ashes without a sound, vanishing into the air, leaving only the oil lamp used for crossing the boundary. Qin Ye jolted, opened his eyes, and gasped for breath.
“Hah… ha…” Like a drowning man newly revived, he immediately clutched his chest. His heart beat steadily in his chest, limbs cold as ice. A sense of being reborn swept through him.
It seems... his strength wasn’t enough to return to that place again; otherwise, he’d never make it across the Bridge of Bones...
“Cluck-cluck—cock-a-doodle-doo!” Out in the county outskirts, somewhere a rooster began to crow. The golden dawn filtered through the window, draping the earth in a warm, golden veil.
As he felt his body slowly warming, he didn’t move, instead pressing his temples in deep thought.
Everything had changed.
He had changed, and upheaval was coming to the world of the living. Some old mysteries were resolved—why the school broadcast such news? Why are supernatural posts everywhere now? Yet what replaced them was an uncertain path ahead. He had to clarify his thoughts and find his place in this soon-to-be-chaotic world.
“First, I absolutely cannot expose myself.” He poured a cup of cold tea and muttered to himself, “Underworld fiends hiding in the living world are criminals. What do criminals fear most?”
The answer was obvious.
The law.
He stared hopelessly at the ceiling. “And I... am the law’s representative, the embodiment of justice—once discovered, I’ll be the corpse of the legal personification of the Underworld, doomed to utter destruction... And my greatest reliance, the Six Kings Ghost Map, has already been used, exchanged for a completely useless spirit ball! I don’t even dare to throw it away!”
No matter how he thought about it, there was no way to survive...
His dream of living safely, shattered without warning, without concern, smashed to pieces before his very eyes.
He was being cornered... He hadn’t even figured out his endless path yet...
“Maybe... if I ignore this matter?”
“Granny Meng is gone, the three-day lifespan was canceled, if I don’t meddle... can I continue to survive?”
“Idiot.” Alakshasa’s cold voice echoed in his ears. “Even Granny Meng cannot decide anyone’s lifespan. The Book of Life and Death is one of the Underworld’s three innate treasures, recording the lifespans of all beings in the living world. Even if it was shattered by the upheaval of Ksitigarbha’s enlightenment, death may be delayed, but never absent.”
“...That’s a profound statement.”
Alakshasa spoke through gritted teeth, “You have only three days left. The collapse of the Underworld hits people like you hardest—yin and yang beings. The Underworld represents Yin, the living world represents Yang. You reside on the boundary between the two. If either side falters, even if your name never appeared in the Book of Life and Death, you can never survive.”
She paused, forcing her voice calm. “Little ghost, our deal is still valid. If you let me go, I’ll tell you how to avoid death, and... I can help you find fragments of the Yanluo Seal. With a piece of the Underworld’s innate treasure as protection, you can live forever...”
Before she finished, the spirit ball—paper talisman—automatically floated out, only to be tossed under Qin Ye’s bed.
“A supplicant still dares to grit her teeth? Look at how the idiot author describes you. Your micro-expressions are terrible.” Qin Ye thought for a moment, dug out “An Actor’s Guide to Self-Improvement,” and threw it under the bed as well. “You’re welcome.”
The curses erupting from under the bed were ignored.
He glanced at the clock—now it was five ten.
There are two times of witching hour in a day—five in the morning, and six in the evening. At the division of Yin and Yang, those with heavy Yin energy, or those using certain techniques, can see some unclean things.
He frowned slightly. The Yang hour had arrived; he could no longer summon Wang Zemin’s soul, nor did he know how to conduct a soul-calling ritual.
Three days. He didn’t think Alakshasa was joking.
Within three days, he must find a fragment of the Yanluo Seal!
Otherwise, forget survival—he’d be facing GAME OVER.
He sighed, helplessly walked to the bedside, and lifted the pillow. Underneath was a yellowed book; the pages looked quite ancient.
“So this is what the old woman left?” Qin Ye was thoroughly dissatisfied. In his predicament, a book of Skeleton-Transforming Palm techniques would be far more useful.
He opened the first page: “Little one, if you are reading this, it means you already know everything, and I—”
Qin Ye turned the page expressionlessly.
Seriously... Did she really not understand the situation? We’re being cornered and she’s waxing nostalgic?
What he needed was techniques! Secret treasures! An elder spirit and a divine beast at his side!
Who cared where she died?
Second page: “I guessed you’d selfishly skip the first page, so I’ll write it again: Little one, if you are reading this, it means you already know everything, and I—”
Expressionlessly, he turned to the third page.
Third page: “Third time’s the charm, this is the last time. For this world and my thousand-year post, I still have some attachment. Little one, if you are reading this, it means you already know everything, and I—”
Smack!
Qin Ye snapped the book shut, took several deep breaths, then, expressionless, opened the fourth page.
Finally, to the main point!
Is it amusing for the unscrupulous author to copy and paste?
His expression grew serious. As the old saying goes: knowledge is power. And this, these things, were the foundation for his survival as a rookie ghost official.
Indeed... he secretly hoped that the chance to escape the three-day death curse might be hidden within.
The fourth page wasted no words, simply wrote in bold: “Underworld ghost officials and the classification of the Eight Directions Ghosts.”
“All Underworld civil servants are called ghost officials. The lowest are ghost errants, who handle village affairs. One rank above are soul catchers, responsible for county affairs. These are low-level ghost officials.”
“Mid-level ghost officials are divided into two ranks: ‘Wuchang’ for city affairs, and ‘Judges’ for provincial and directly-governed city affairs.”
“High-level ghost officials also have two ranks: ‘Fujun’ for district affairs, and ‘Yanluo’ for national affairs.”
“When a Yanluo has served for over five hundred years, Underworld citizens may vote to elect them as King Yanluo. Among Underworld ghost officials: ghost errants number 1.2 million; soul catchers, 240,000; Wuchang, 35,000; Judges, 1,200; Fujun, 90; Yanluo, ten, also known as the Ten Kings of Yanluo. Below ghost errant rank are not counted, numbering around ten million.”
“Additionally, there are the Six Kings of Ghosts: Zhao Yun, Ying Bu, Yang Gun, Fan Kuai, Ran Min, Bai Qi—eternally unchanging, serving as special inspectors who roam the realm. Upon discovering a high-level evil spirit, they may execute on the spot.”
“Take heed: no ghost official may interfere in the affairs of the living world. If discovered, Heaven’s punishment is certain. The Underworld may fall, but the Heavenly Way remains! Remember, remember.”
Qin Ye’s hand paused.
At last, he understood the general structure of the Underworld. And he realized how terrifying Alakshasa was, who pretended blindness to his performance.
A provincial governor...
One of only 1,200 Judges in the entire Underworld, among billions of spirits!
And now, this provincial governor lay beneath his bed...
No—when the chance appeared, he must settle this hidden threat.
He continued reading.
“Underworld ghosts, by convention in the living world, are temporarily divided into six grades from S to E. The lowest, five-year-old new ghosts, are E-grade; fifty-year-old ghosts, D-grade; hundred-year ghosts, C-grade; three hundred years, B-grade; five hundred years, A-grade; thousand-year ghost kings, S-grade. If discovered... with your strength, you must leave immediately when facing D-grade.”
“When these ghosts are subdued, they become Soul Sealing Balls...”
Qin Ye’s eyes shone.
Soul Sealing Ball... so that’s the official name for the spirit ball?
He read each word carefully: “Soul Sealing Balls cannot be opened by anyone but the one who sealed them. Every hundred years, the Fujun delivers them to the Bodhisattva Ksitigarbha for collective incineration...”
In that moment, something flashed through his mind—he tried to grasp it, but it slipped away. Fleeting.
He frowned, pondering for a long time but found no answer.
Shaking his head, he read on. Oddly, every word he read seemed branded into his mind. After several pages, his hand paused once more.
“The undying and unborn.”
Chapter 11: Granny Meng’s Legacy
Splash... The talisman paper ball trembled several times before rolling to Qin Ye’s side. In just a brief three seconds, the moment of instant killing, boundless dark energy surged from his body, rising to the heavens of the Underworld. Five seconds later, he had once more assumed the appearance of a ghost official in uniform.
“So this is the power of the Six Kings of Ghosts?” he stared at his hands in astonishment. Just seconds ago, he thought Alakshasa was an invincible force. Now, with these very hands, he had ended her?
The gap in strength was so vast, the entire battle passed like a fleeting shadow—he hadn’t even reacted before it was over.
This... was like catching Pikachu with a Master Ball... far too easy...
He bent down and picked up the talisman paper ball. No sooner had he grasped it than a venomous voice echoed, “Kid... even with the Six Kings of Ghosts possessing you, your meager power could never exorcise me! I... propose a deal. Let me go, and today’s events will be forgotten.”
“Heh.” Qin Ye replied with two classic monosyllabic words, then unhesitatingly stuffed her into his pocket.
Leaving her here was impossible—what if she came back to life? Was he to live in constant fear in the world of the living? There’s a thousand days for a thief, but never a thousand days to guard against one.
Taking her home was risky, but at least he’d know immediately if anything changed.
Simply put,
He was afraid to die.
Any entity that threatened his survival was heretical!
With Alakshasa’s interference gone, the shattered black butterflies gathered once again, forming a black whirlwind that carried him directly into the world of the living.
………………………………………………
Hours later, the two stone-like figures at the table remained. Suddenly, Granny Meng’s body turned to ashes without a sound, vanishing into the air, leaving only the oil lamp used for crossing the boundary. Qin Ye jolted, opened his eyes, and gasped for breath.
“Hah… ha…” Like a drowning man newly revived, he immediately clutched his chest. His heart beat steadily in his chest, limbs cold as ice. A sense of being reborn swept through him.
It seems... his strength wasn’t enough to return to that place again; otherwise, he’d never make it across the Bridge of Bones...
“Cluck-cluck—cock-a-doodle-doo!” Out in the county outskirts, somewhere a rooster began to crow. The golden dawn filtered through the window, draping the earth in a warm, golden veil.
As he felt his body slowly warming, he didn’t move, instead pressing his temples in deep thought.
Everything had changed.
He had changed, and upheaval was coming to the world of the living. Some old mysteries were resolved—why the school broadcast such news? Why are supernatural posts everywhere now? Yet what replaced them was an uncertain path ahead. He had to clarify his thoughts and find his place in this soon-to-be-chaotic world.
“First, I absolutely cannot expose myself.” He poured a cup of cold tea and muttered to himself, “Underworld fiends hiding in the living world are criminals. What do criminals fear most?”
The answer was obvious.
The law.
He stared hopelessly at the ceiling. “And I... am the law’s representative, the embodiment of justice—once discovered, I’ll be the corpse of the legal personification of the Underworld, doomed to utter destruction... And my greatest reliance, the Six Kings Ghost Map, has already been used, exchanged for a completely useless spirit ball! I don’t even dare to throw it away!”
No matter how he thought about it, there was no way to survive...
His dream of living safely, shattered without warning, without concern, smashed to pieces before his very eyes.
He was being cornered... He hadn’t even figured out his endless path yet...
“Maybe... if I ignore this matter?”