Chapter 7: Crossing into the Netherworld (Seeking recommendations and favorites during the launch period)

These colossal figures, towering like mountains, dwarfed Grandmother by dozens of times. Their ghostly eyes, flickering like witchlights in the churning sea of mist, resembled countless stars in the sky, all fixed unwaveringly on Qin Ye. Yet, none dared to approach.

They simply watched in deathly silence as the two walked along the path of bones. With every step Grandmother took, those enormous eyes retreated a step as well, as if the entire celestial vault began to sway.

“This is called crossing into the Shadow Realm. If your cultivation is strong enough, you can find the soul you seek here, provided it's within seven days of death. You can even let the departed briefly regain lucidity and converse with you. What mortal sorcerers call ‘summoning the soul’ is merely calling back the spirit before its last breath of yang energy dissipates—within these seven days.”

“Even more so, if you ever rise above the rank of ghost messenger, you won’t need to cross the Shadow Realm at all. You’ll be able to seize souls directly on this boundary road. Now, lower your head—we’ve arrived. You may speak.”

Qin Ye immediately calmed his mind and bowed his head.

The road of bones had reached its end, and there, anchored in the void, was a massive boat.

It was an ancient ferry, nearly a thousand meters long, resting quietly in midair. But where the ferryman should have stood, there was now a golden skeleton.

Wearing a blue bamboo hat and a green raincoat, bones forged from pure gold, the skeleton still gripped the oar, slightly hunched, head bowed, poised as if exerting force. It was hard to imagine that such an ordinary-sized skeleton was the ferryman for this titanic vessel. Across at the bridgehead of bones, countless spirits now clutched spirit money in their hands, gazing intently at the skeleton.

“He… is he dead?” Qin Ye murmured.

Grandmother’s eyes were deeply complex. “Not dead… but gone.”

“For thousands of years, I never learned his name. He never spoke a word, always quietly ferrying souls to me before departing in silence. We thought we’d always pass in silence, never knowing…”

She shook her head, leaving the rest unsaid.

Qin Ye withdrew his gaze, pondering, when suddenly a flash of inspiration struck him. His eyes widened in disbelief as he looked again at the ferryman, his feet moving forward without conscious thought.

The moment he stepped out, the ground beneath him vanished, and he lost balance. A powerful force seized his arm, yanking him back with a jerk.

“Are you trying to get yourself killed?” Grandmother scolded. “Look at your feet!”

Cold sweat broke out across Qin Ye’s brow as he looked down. Beneath the bones lay a bottomless abyss!

The ferry hovered in the void, giving the illusion of solid ground, but in truth there was none.

A thousand fathoms of darkness was terrifying enough, but even more so… this abyss only became visible once you stepped past the bridgehead. And… as he nearly fell, he heard faintly the sound of a woman’s laughter below, as countless black waves surged from the depths, crawling madly up the cliff walls.

Those weren’t waves.

They were hair!

Something horrifying lurked beneath this endless chasm, waiting like a spider for souls to stray into its domain.

Grandmother grew solemn. “Don’t think you can afford to be careless just because this is only the first segment of the Yellow Springs Road. There are countless beings here beyond your imagination. This is a forbidden zone for the living. One wrong step, and it’s the end.”

---

Qin Ye gently brushed off Grandmother’s hand, their eyes meeting. “I have a question. Not sure if I should ask.”

“If you shouldn’t ask, then don’t,” Grandmother replied, as if she already knew his thoughts. “You’ve lived too long, sharper than most. Some questions are better kept inside.”

Qin Ye’s gaze grew more intense. “What has happened… in the Underworld?”

Before Grandmother could answer, he continued in a low voice, “I just realized… the ferryman’s death was not natural.”

“His posture is exactly as if he was ferrying, hands still straining on the oar. This was sudden death. Even at his rank, he was caught completely off guard—instantaneous annihilation. So much so, he died still holding that pose.”

Looking directly into Grandmother’s eyes, he enunciated, “Who could instantly annihilate the ferryman?”

Her lips parted, but Qin Ye shook his head and pressed on, “Also, I’ve noticed—since the Ghost Festival, there are far too many wandering souls. Now these spirits gather at the Underworld’s entrance, unable to enter. Not a single ghost messenger is present. That’s even more abnormal.”

Grandmother finally spoke, her gaze unwavering. “What are you getting at?”

Qin Ye drew a deep breath, a wild notion rising in his heart. He stepped forward, voice trembling, “Has the Underworld… come to a halt?”

“Oh?”

“The ferryman died, and at the same time, the mortal world is plagued with endless supernatural incidents. Can I surmise that upheaval in the Underworld is the root cause of the chaos above?”

As he voiced this, even Qin Ye shuddered. The thought was terrifying—too terrifying to believe.

How many people die each day?

If the Underworld halts… where do the souls of billions go?

No wonder… no wonder events in the living world escalate daily, no wonder so many supernatural cases suddenly erupt. The mortal realm… is becoming a living hell!

“Interesting.” Grandmother did not respond immediately. After a long pause, she laughed coldly. “Boy, your imagination is impressive. But…”

Her gaze bore into Qin Ye. “Don’t use human logic to guess the ways of ghosts… They are a thousand times more terrifying than you think…”

“Your shallow speculation only scratches a fraction of the real horror you’re about to witness…”

“Come now… board the ferry, take hold of the oar, and prove you’re worthy to be the Underworld’s last ghost messenger.”

“Wait!” Alarm bells rang in Qin Ye’s mind. He eyed Grandmother distrustfully. “Last ghost messenger? What nonsense are you talking about? I never agreed to this. And why do you sound like you’re leaving a last will and testament?”

Grandmother sneered. “Useless. The longer you live, the sharper you become. No matter how innocent you pretend to be in front of me, your heart is just as dark as mine. Besides… do you really think you can act wilfully in my domain?”

Before she finished speaking, a powerful force swept Qin Ye from behind, sending him flying like a leaf in the wind towards the ferry. As he soared through the air, dark energy erupted from his body, transforming his robes instantly into the garb of a ghost messenger.

---

What a trap!

Qin Ye landed on the ferry with a thud, cursing inwardly, rubbing his waist as he struggled to stand. Grandmother’s voice drifted over, “Take up the oar. When you hear the sound of the ferry, the spirits will gather around you. But they won’t be able to board—you’ve seen it yourself. This ship isn’t open to all. And between the ferry and the road lies a terrifying presence. So rest assured.”

Qin Ye gritted his teeth. “Who am I supposed to ferry? What exactly are you looking for? Can’t you give me a straight answer?!”

“Why so impatient?” Grandmother gave him a look that said, “young people are always so rash,” then grew serious. “This ship… can’t be moved by just anyone. Only those capable of ferrying souls have the right to become true ghost messengers. Whether you can formally join the Underworld’s ranks depends on whether you can move the oar.”

“I—damn it… can't I just refuse?!”

“You could, Egghead.” Grandmother lit her pipe, speaking coolly, “You have three days of lifeforce left.”

Qin Ye’s voice dropped eight octaves. “…We were having a pleasant conversation. Can we not suddenly switch to this horror channel?”

“Strong survival instincts, I see.” Grandmother exhaled smoke leisurely. “Those who’ve eaten the flesh of the Immortal, neither live nor die, never grow, recognized by neither realm. Now that the Underworld has halted, your good days are over. Best case, you become a wandering spirit; worst…”

She waved her pipe at the packed spirits on the bridgehead of bones. “Care to choose one?”

“…I’ll row, I’ll row right now… When it comes to ruthlessness, I bow to you lot down here.” Qin Ye, nearly in tears, gave the golden skeleton three bows, gently moved it aside, and grasped the oar, pushing down with all his strength.

Swish… In the endless void, as the oar lifted, ripples spread through nothingness. Though there was not a drop of water, the sound of the oar breaking the surface echoed throughout the realm.

In this moment, Qin Ye couldn’t help but recall a song: “Let us row our double oars~~ The little boat pushes through the waves~~ The surface reflects grim ghosts, surrounded by wicked old women~~”

This scene was all wrong!

A horn sounded—moaning—from the ferry, and at once, every spirit on the bridgehead raised their heads, staring this way.

A second horn, and the ferry slowly turned. As it turned, the spirits on the bridge finally stirred. Fixing their gaze on the ferry, clutching spirit money, they stepped forward unconsciously. The entire sea of spirits began to surge forward in waves.

The sight was truly magnificent.

Between the ferry and the bridgehead yawned an endless chasm. The spirits could not reach the ferry—stepping forward, they immediately plunged into the bottomless abyss below, where a chorus of delighted female laughter echoed.

But this did nothing to stem the tide. The ferry was like a lighthouse in a storm, impossibly conspicuous.

Hundreds, thousands of spirits—the first wave fell into the abyss, the next followed, endless souls plunging down, forming a waterfall of spirits.

The spirit money fluttered through the air, scattering like the mist and spray of a thousand-foot waterfall, a breathtaking sight.