Each has their own karmic destiny, each their own fateful encounter.
So wait idly by for prey to co to them, while others block mountain paths to beco self-proclaid kings.
So sit silently at the Ghost Gate, waiting for a bowl of ng Po soup, while others vanish into smoke after selling their last bowl.
Within this, there may be traces of Buddhist wisdom or Taoist reasoning,
but the world is already overflowing with such philosophies,
far too much...
Chen Yi drew in a deep breath and turned away.
Yin Weiyin gazed at the bronze door for a while, and when it finally closed slowly, she hurried after Chen Yi, clutching his robe.
Chen Yi slowed his pace slightly, sensing sothing stirring within his heart, though he still couldn’t grasp what it was.
The two said little on their journey.
.........
The sa route, naturally faster the second ti, with fewer breaks along the way. The first trip to the Ghost Gate took nearly ten days; this ti, only seven.
Walking under the golden characters of "Netherworld Ghost Gate," they spotted Deng Ai standing atop the city wall, his silhouette tall and imposing. Seeing the two approach, he leapt down from the wall.
The ghost lord general of a defeated army planted his massive spear casually into the ground and strode toward Chen Yi, asking, "Did you bring it?"
Chen Yi retrieved the bowl of ng Po soup from Square Land and replied, "Brought it."
Deng Ai accepted the bowl with both hands, but he didn’t drink it imdiately. Instead, he glanced back at the scattered human skull mounds within the Ghost Gate, seemingly overwheld with mixed emotions. He sighed first, then looked far into the distance, his gaze fixed on Yingdu Ghost City.
"Are you heading to Yingdu Ghost City?" Deng Ai asked.
Chen Yi wanted to glean more information about the Ghost City: "Any advice?"
"Advice might not be the right word, but the Ghost City is a ss these days..."
Using this as a starting point, Chen Yi and Deng Ai began to converse. As Chen Yi suspected, Deng Ai, imprisoned deep in the eighteenth level of hell, knew little about the happenings in the Ghost City. He spoke only of chaos, a faint sense of disorder that seed to be stabilizing sowhat, maintaining a tenuous balance.
Rumor had it that King Yan had gone mad and was confined within his palace, leaving the criminal punishnt bureau to oversee the Ghost City’s affairs.
This ant that the searching order in Chen Yi’s possession ca from the punishnt bureau.
As for its forr equal counterpart, the comndation bureau—it was said to have lost influence.
No one knew what had beco of Min He.
If everything followed the path of his previous life, Min He’s safety wouldn’t be a concern. But now, with the narrative having shifted inexplicably, nothing could be said for certain.
Chen Yi deliberated, lost in thought.
Then, he turned to Deng Ai and asked, "Who was it that got you out? Can you tell ?"
"It doesn’t matter much whether I reveal it or not. But that benefactor didn’t leave a clear na," Deng Ai chuckled and described, "His surna is Li. An old man in his sixties or seventies, seed to have arrived in the underworld thousands of years ago. Through sheer opportunity and luck, he climbed the ranks and won King Yan’s favor."
Could this old man surnad Li be a key figure in all these changes?
Chen Yi hadn’t heard of such a character in his past life and frowned slightly.
Deng Ai pointed toward the distance beyond the Ghost Gate and asked:
"If you’re heading toward the Ghost City, you’ll pass through a small town along the way. That town has certain rules you best adhere to. Breaking them could spell trouble—once, even I barely escaped with a layer of skin intact."
"A town?" Chen Yi asked in surprise.
"Yes, a town. Peculiar and eerie, unlike anything in the Central Plains." Having Deng Ai, a ghost lord, describe it so gravely demanded attention. Chen Yi sharpened his ears and listened as Deng Ai continued: "If you head for the Ghost City, you’ll inevitably pass through this town. Behind this town lies my benefactor. Be sure to treat him kindly. If you get dragged into its affairs, calamity is unavoidable."
With that, Deng Ai had nothing more to add.
After exchanging courtesies, the two set off once more into the distance.
anwhile, Deng Ai held the bowl of ng Po soup. The shifting liquid within brought a flood of mories to his mind—his boyhood stutter, his later efforts in farmland irrigation, his penchant for violence, and in his elder years, the daring subversion of Yinping to conquer Shu, with the awe-inspiring sight of Shu’s emperor coming out of the city. Yet all this had passed like wind. Reflecting on it now, who could know how many millennia had elapsed?
He drank the soup in one gulp.
Ah, soone put sugar in the ng Po soup!
Deng Ai was startled. Watching the silhouettes of Chen Yi and Yin Weiyin fade into the distance, he suddenly recalled his long-lost wife. But the faint image of her already blurred in his mind shattered entirely as the soup coursed through him. He understood, in the end, everything was over. A handful of yellow earth could seal it all away.
He walked to the edge of the stone cliff and leapt down,
reincarnating into a new life.
..................
After their talk, Deng Ai’s earnest warnings lingered in Chen Yi’s ears and heart, yet his confusion only deepened.
Too many mysteries, tangled and intertwined. As they rushed through his thoughts, Chen Yi resolved to trace them back to the source.
Figure out why everything had changed!
Beyond the Ghost Gate, they journeyed toward Yingdu Ghost City. Along the way, barely any ghostly mists could be seen, much less the bustling oddities like rats’ wedding processions.
Chen Yi wasn’t particularly affected, his mind consud with thoughts.
Yin Weiyin, however, bore no such burden; nothing had happened on this stretch, and she lanted the absence of the transford "rat-like" Chen Yi.
How splendid he had been in that mont. Despite her fear then, it wasn’t crippling—she had even relished so thrill in conquering the terror of the unknown.
Unlike now, in their intimate hours, when she was pressed under him, entirely spent and nearly tortured to death.
Yet Chen Yi was gentle. Though his gentleness didn’t fully temper her fear, gentleness was still gentleness. Gradually, Yin Weiyin no longer felt as self-conscious, and their nightti conversations held greater depth.
Sohow, their relationship had softened significantly and grown closer. Yin Weiyin’s ethereal beauty—like wind, dew, and lightning—slowly revealed itself to Chen Yi. She always adored refined pleasures; one day, she beheld a tempest rolling across distant mountains, shrouded in mist and fog, and couldn’t help but pace about, reciting lines of poetry.
Chen Yi watched her and teased:
"Why not compose your own poem?"
Naturally, she accepted the challenge, took up a brush, and with the wind on her face, let inspiration guide her strokes, eventually composing a piece of "Like a Dream" lyric poetry:
[Jade nectar and divine elixirs sip the dew, the Divine Water Golden Pill is wondrous too,
In this eting, behold the True Immortal,
Ascend unto my ho’s heavenly palace,
Behold, behold, the cloud-filled seas, unbound and solitary strides!]
After singing her lyric aloud, she murmured it several more tis. Chen Yi detected her inner pride clearly. How could he not discern her lifelong pursuit of immortality, a yearning for the unbridled freedom of striding alone across vast seas?
But Chen Yi didn’t want her to beco immortal.
Yin Weiyin set down her pen, hesitated briefly, then suggested Chen Yi try composing his own poem. She offered to help him tweak the trics and tone.
But Chen Yi truly wasn’t skilled at such things.
He had neither learned rhy nor had a habit of crafting verses. Moreover, he knew nothing of tonal patterns or trics. After fiddling around for two or three hours—including forfeiting his ti to savor the company of the female crown—he finally managed to piece together a decent "Divining a lody" lyric:
The earlier verses were unremarkable, not worth ntioning, but the final couplet stood out sowhat:
[Do not be tainted by dust, do not be tainted by dust, always at the point where hearts break.]
"Your poetry is steeped in sorrow," Yin Weiyin observed softly after a long pause.
The female crown drew up the paper tightly, her emotions unreadable.
"I’m just a mortal, and mortals have plenty of sorrows," Chen Yi said nonchalantly, appearing unbothered. "Think about it: I rarely drown my sorrows in alcohol or act out drunkenly. Isn’t that better?"
Yin Weiyin said nothing, gazing outward toward the mountains, still buffeted by fierce winds.
Flickering firelight reflected their faces. Yin Weiyin stared into the stormy distance, while Chen Yi looked at Yin Weiyin, who was a re arm’s length away.
He knew this complex woman well—he had understood her ever since their ti within the underground palace.
Not long ago, Yin Weiyin had begun to understand him.
Suddenly, Chen Yi comnted:
"Lyrics are ant to be sung. The songs from my hotown are different from those sung today."
Yin Weiyin turned her face slightly, her autumn-like watery eyes lowered as she murmured softly:
"...Let hear your fra of mind."
She waited for quite a while thereafter.
But nothing ca.
Growing mildly despondent, Yin Weiyin bowed her head. She couldn’t help but wonder if Tingxue were here, she might be able to listen. When she glanced at the far-off horizon, however, she suddenly heard Chen Yi’s faintly raspy singing:
"Bitterness... stirs love and hate, humanity... cannot escape fate..."
...............
Days later, they spotted wisps of smoke curling upward, nestled against the slopes, half obscured by the thin fog. The ghostly town slowly revealed itself in the distance.
Standing on higher ground, Chen Yi surveyed the area. It appeared blurry and gray, akin to a veiled spirit’s face.
Yin Weiyin noticed this too and tightened her grip on Chen Yi’s robe.
Expanses upon expanses of red spider lilies blanketed the land, forming a sea of blossoms. Beyond the ghost town stretched grand mountain ranges, their black shadows trembling, hiding secrets within. Subtle flecks of blue-green light mingled faintly.
Steeling themselves, Chen Yi and Yin Weiyin pressed onward.
Passing the morial archway, they reached the edge of the ghost town. Rows of wooden buildings stood quiet in shadowy corners, their straight lines adding to the air of tranquility. The street lay barren and deserted.
Not a human silhouette, not even a ghost’s shadow could be seen.
The wooden houses themselves bore minimal decoration, with each ho’s doors and windows tightly shut. An eerie wind flowed through the empty streets, causing their robes to flutter.
Off in the distance, only one building had its lights on. The bluish glow resembled a guiding beacon, beckoning them closer for rest.
Chen Yi glanced toward Yin Weiyin.
The female crown naturally understood his intention and pinched her fingers together to perform a divination.
This ti, the hexagram’s reading was vague—caught sowhere between harmless danger and dire peril.
Chen Yi frowned slightly. This ghost town hadn’t existed in his previous life, yet it had now appeared. He had no "strategy" to deal with it.
Moreover, the ghost town blocked the route leading to the Ghost City; traversing it was imperative to their journey.
Chen Yi shifted his gaze from the inn’s signboard to survey his surroundings.
Scanning the area, he found only gray darkness, with the main road of the ghost town seeming to drop off into an abyss ahead.
He asked Yin Weiyin to perform another divination...
When the hexagram erged, Yin Weiyin’s face paled.
Nine deaths, one survival.
Faced with such a reading, recklessly plunging ahead was unwise. It seed better to investigate the inn first.
Having made up his mind, Chen Yi turned and walked steadily toward the inn.
Just before entering, he glanced once more at the inn’s signboard: Four Heavenly Kings Inn.
The Four Heavenly Kings—likely a reference to the Buddhist sect’s four great protectors.
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