So, Wen Yan asked Lord Zhu for a favor—to co fishing next ti he visits.
Lord Zhu being here in person was also to see if anyone would spot Wen Yan leaving the Ghost Market and then leak the information.
If this gets tangled up in so conflict, Lord Zhu might only help Wen Yan out of personal interest.
But if more Jinxes pop up over this, that’s just escalating the conflict, and it’ll affect the other ghosts as well.
There’s already a natural divide between humans and ghosts; stir things up like this and Lord Zhu is sure the Rakshasa Ghost Market’s business will be dead in the water.
They call it a Ghost Market, but really, if you look deeper, it’s still just an extension of the human world.
Lord Zhu didn’t keep it from the other shareholders either—he laid all the cards on the table, and the others backed him on this.
Don’t think there’s no surveillance in the Rakshasa Ghost Market, no eavesdropping—if soone wants to know sothing, wants to investigate, they’ll always find a way.
Lord Zhu sat by the window, sipping his tea. Beside him stood a Big Earlobe Ghost, eyes closed, just quietly standing there.
"You’ve got permission, so put in the work.
If those people aren’t here, fine. But if they are—if you can catch one and I pull on that thread, I’ll unravel the ss behind it.
If that happens, you’ll have done a hell of a job. I’ll make sure the Scorching Sun Departnt goes easier on you.
I’ll give your na back, let you start over.
By then, you can go ho safely, see your family—no more living in fear that you’ll drag them down."
The Big Earlobe Ghost stayed silent, eyes still closed, but his expression grew gravely serious.
...
In the Virtue City villa district, Pei Tugou, who’d been sleeping, now sat atop the wall, letting the night wind blow against him.
The clothes on his body, once only stained with blood, now seed to be dripping with it.
Slaughtering over two hundred evil ghosts in one go—there’s no way that doesn’t pay off.
And Pei Tugou, working hard every day like a model worker, well, that’s never for nothing either.
All those bits of daily effort will one day explode into sothing big, turning into steps of progress.
Perched motionless atop the wall, Pei Tugou’s presence seed to fade ever lower.
With Wen Yan gone, this ho was his to protect.
Senseless killing is aningless, but aningful killing—he couldn’t care less about the body count.
The more he killed, the calr he felt inside.
The more blood he wore, the steadier his heart beca.
...
Video conference at the Scorching Sun Headquarters.
Only Cai Qidong and three top brass were present.
Cai Qidong spoke with a dark look.
"Like I said, I don’t believe it if you claim no one’s involved."
After speaking, Cai Qidong raised his head, almost smug as he added,
"Currently, I have no evidence to prove it."
The three on the video call all burst out laughing at that.
It wasn’t ridicule, though.
They genuinely took Cai Qidong’s words as proof.
After all, Cai Qidong had pulled this move not once, not twice, but three tis or more now...
"You have full authority to handle this." The General Director made the call.
"Alright."
After hanging up, Cai Qidong sat alone in his office and let out a sinister grin.
"Sons of bitches, you wanna ss with like this? I don’t care who you are—you’ve crossed the line."
...
Wen Yan was once again walking through the Yin River, heading toward the Styx.
The ghost escorts around him grew fewer and fewer; Wen Yan waved them goodbye.
"That’s far enough. No need to see off."
The aimless ghosts kept drifting nearby.
Wen Yan chuckled, moving on to the next stage. There he ran into the sa ghosts he’d rcifully released last ti—they were still struggling here, and when they saw Wen Yan, it was as if they’d spotted their mortal enemy; they sward at him.
Wen Yan laughed out loud and ignored them.
"Guess you still haven’t reflected enough. Keep at it, then, I’m busy right now, no ti for you."
The ghosts around him dwindled, until not a single one was left, and even the river itself sank into deathly stillness. Wen Yan knew he was almost there.
Soon enough, carrying his things, he erged from the Styx. Once he’d checked that nothing had gotten wet, he called forth his Blue Mane Horse, saddled up, and stowed his cargo.
Finding sothing in the Netherworld is no easy feat.
But after last ti, Wen Yan had so experience.
The blessing from his aunt turned out to be way more useful than he’d expected.
Anyti he thought of "coming ashore," he might end up on any number of banks—the answer wasn’t fixed to just one place.
That’s how he figured out that the direction he searched—or the answer—didn’t have to be just one thing.
He sat astride his horse, fed the Blue Mane Horse so paper money, blessed it with yang energy, and shut his eyes to sense things closely.
I’m headed to a temple—a temple with a god’s statue.
He rode in circles, aimless, searching for a direction.
Soon, he felt sothing: he closed his eyes and patted the horse’s neck.
"Good horse, that’s the way. Let’s get going and deliver this big treasure—this thing’s so valuable it’s worth more than my whole lifeti’s salary."
The Blue Mane Horse neighed and instantly charged ahead.
...
In the north of Guanzhong Commandery, deep in the mountains, between two peaks cut by a rushing river, there stood an abandoned earth temple.
Inside, a mud altar had been unearthed, and atop it stood a wooden statue of a deity.
Below, a Taoist sat cross-legged on a mat, chanting scriptures softly with eyes closed.
Suddenly, the tiny oil lamp on the altar twinkled a bit—its Little Fire Seed flickered, and the Taoist opened his eyes.
"Is it a passing hermit, caught out too late to travel by night? You’re welco to rest in here awhile."
Outside the temple, a voice replied.
"I’m not coming in. If I do, that statue might suddenly change and kill —that’s just boring."
The Taoist’s eyes narrowed at once, but before he could turn, the voice continued from outside.
"Better not. Don’t look at . If you see , the ga’s no fun—and I do enjoy killing.
I’m just here out of kindness—to give you a heads-up. Don’t think the Netherworld is totally outside of surveillance and control.
And don’t think it’s foolproof either—if you do, you’re underestimating the rest of the world."
The voice vanished. The Taoist got up, walked to the temple door. On the ground there was just a pair of footprints—no sign of soone coming, and no trail of leaving either.
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