Chapter 10. Netherworld
Zhou Zishu stared at the handprint for a while, then turned the corpse front-down, undressing the body's upper half—another handprint was on his back at the same position.
Wen Kexing sighed, "Was he branded, or the attack went through his body?"
Zhou Zishu replied nonchalantly. "No one would waste their time to play with the dead, the attack went through from one side of his body to the other. I can only think of one person in the recent fifty years who is able to do this…"
"It's the Raksha1 Palms from Sun Ding the Delighted Mourning Ghost," Wen Kexing continued.
Zhou Zishu glanced at him without replying, kneeling down to search Mu Yunge's body carefully. What he found were some banknotes and silvers. "Oh, stealthily left the Zhao's Holdings at late night while carrying travel expenses…" Zhou Zishu touched his own chest—so did he.
"Brother Wen, this night owl isn't out here to pick flowers, a sex offender doesn't need this much cash with him."
"Probably doesn't need extra clothes for bathing, either." Wen Kexing kicked a small bag hidden in a bush into the open. The bag was also made of black cloth, and inside was some clothes for changing when one was away from home.
The forest earth was damp and soft with a chaotic map of footprints on it, but there didn't seem to be evidence of a fight. Beside the mark of the hand which caused instant death, there weren't any other wounds or scars on Mu Yunge's body. His famous sword was by his hip, still sheathed.
Mu Yunge's kungfu was definitely above average, at least he would not fight back like a suckling. Zhou Zishu fell into silence, thinking perhaps the dignified and righteous swordsman of Duan Jian Manor and the Delighted Mourning Ghost of the Valley had arranged a date?
A bloody one at that, which likely started out as a passionate but the passion turned into anger afterwards.
There seemed to be three people present before they arrived; and while Mu Yunge's footprints stopped here, the other two's went in different directions, suggesting they might not be on the same side. One was no doubt chasing after Mu Yunge to this place, then sat down to examine the body just like what Zhou Zishu was doing right now.
Zhou Zishu squatted on the ground, the old habit of questioning everything rearing its head again, making his insides itch. He felt an urge to follow the footprints, but rationality warned him that it would only lead to troubles. He was no longer the all-knowing mighty leader of Tian Chuang, there was no point in burdening himself with inconveniences.
Wen Kexing watched his companion sit in a terribly indecent fashion and look like it would take him forever to stand up. After a long while he couldn't help but ask, "You won't pursue them?"
Zhou Zishu stared at him, still waging an internal war.
Wen Kexing, after some thought, strode after the second one's footprints, saying, "Then I will."
Zhou Zishu followed him unconsciously, speaking in surprise, "You really want to be involved in something that's not your business?"
Wen Kexing's face was serious. "Someone killed the Lord of Duan Jian Manor, and I'm a charitable person who wants to gather merits, so why not. And I'm bored anyway."
Zhou Zishu felt like the last sentence was incredibly reasonable, so he nodded, inquiring again, "Then why don't you follow the first person? Their footprints are very light, so they seem to be the strongest among the three. Hypothetically speaking, if the third one was the last to come here and was from the Zhao's Holding, then the first person is definitely Sun Ding the Delighted Mourning Ghost."
Wen Kexing completely deadpanned, "You can chase after him if you want, I might be a nosy charitable person, but I also value my life."
Zhou Zishu was made speechless by the other's honesty. He followed Wen Kexing closely, looking at the ground under them at a random point and noticing—Wen Kexing didn't even leave any footprints.
Someone who could travel without leaving a trace really just said that he was afraid of a ghost, afraid of death.
Zhou Zishu, who used to manage and investigate all kinds of matter in the palace, decided to follow his desire to see this case through—since he was already near death, he would do whatever he wanted, there was nothing in this world of which he should be afraid anymore.
The two skilled and fearless men sprinted across the forest like shuttles. They found who they were looking for by the river bank—Yu Tianjie of Hua Shan.
He was strung up on a tree with silver threads that looked like a spider web; head almost fallen off his shoulder, only barely intact in the gentle blowing wind.
A drop of blood fell on the ground, which prompted Wen Kexing to step back to avoid being stained. Then he nudged Yu Tianjie's head, completely severing it from the body—the former part was still hung up by the threads, the latter part dropped to the ground with a thud. Wen Kexing touched the body all over, mouth pursed, "Still warm, he died not long ago."
"Spider Silk." Zhou Zishu looked up to Yu Tianjie's head, pausing shortly "It's the Hanged Ghost's Spider Silk."
Tai Hu was truly destined for an exciting time to come.
Suddenly, Zhou Zishu's ears caught on to something. He shouted, "Who's there?"
Behind the tree, a shadow appeared and flew away, looking like a giant bat and disappearing almost instantly. Without hesitation, Zhou Zishu went after it.
Wen Kexing still stood there, mumbling, "I'm scared of dying, scared of dying… Hmm… that's why I can't stay here alone." Then he followed suit.
Zhou Zishu took a pine cone, fingers crooked and aiming at the person in black's middle back; but since he always lacked strength after midnight, and coupled with the fact that he had been running for a long time, even though he hit the target, it only made them stumble forward a little and not falling as expected. They didn't even look back, only running faster.
Zhou Zishu had doubts about whether this was the real Xue Fang the Hanged Ghost. Evidently he would not be able to stand against this man, but if he was really one of Qingzhu Ridge's Ten Great Ghosts, would he run after seeing a nobody like him?
Zhou Zishu thought in astonishment, "I'm not a magic mirror2 either…"
They got out of the forest in a relatively short time. Behind the forest was a cemetery that spread wide and far, with will-o'-wisps flickering all over the place. Seemed like the Hanged Ghost had reached his territory, as his silhouette became more mystical. Zhou Zishu was not sure if his mind was playing tricks on him, but he felt like he heard someone cackling. The laugh was right next to his ears for a sec, then far away the other, making his hair stand on end.
Then the Hanged Ghost disappeared into thin air among the will-o'-wisps.
Zhou Zishu abruptly stopped walking.
Wen Kexing stood beside him, the greenish light casted onto his handsome face, giving him a slightly more demonic look. Some kind of animal let out a howl from far away; and a rat crawled out from underground, staring at the two without fear. It might have devoured the flesh of the dead, since its tiny eyes were pure red.
The Hanged Ghost disappeared under an old locust tree with an owl perched on its branch. The animal tilted its head at the two uninvited guests.
Zhou Zishu and Wen Kexing checked around the tree but found no more clues. Zhou Zishu frowned, "We've really met a ghost…"
The he heard a creepy laugh, turning to Wen Kexing with gooseflesh prickling his skin. His companion pointed at the owl; turned out the sound was from this ghostly animal.
The owl and Zhou Zishu had a decently long staring contest before the former spread its wings and flew away without warning.
Wen Kexing said, "There's this thing I heard when I was little, that owls are only scary when they laugh because there will be death whenever they do. Are you afraid?"
Zhou Zishu was examining the tombstone under the tree, which didn't have any writings on it. He replied with indifference, "There're already two bodies."
It was likely that Wen Kexing felt particularly in the mood, so he ignored the answer, continuing with enthusiasm. "I also heard that one day at this small village there was a person carrying a bowl with red water inside. An owl knocked the bowl over, and that year twenty people lost their lives."
Zhou Zishu raised his head to look at him.
Wen Kexing lowered his voice on purpose, "It's true."
"Why did that villager carry a bowl with red water?" Zhou Zishu asked in confusion.
Wen Kexing choked on his words, turning away to cough.
A faint smile appeared on Zhou Zishu's face. All of a sudden, he put his hands on the tombstone, and with just a bit of strength applied, it moved. He tried harder to push it to one side, and with a squashing sound, an entrance was revealed, leading into a dark space with unknown depth.
Wen Kexing hurried to take a closer look, going round and round in front of the cave's entrance, tongue clicking, "It's rumored that the point of connection between yin and yang carries a lot of yin energy, so there must be a dead locust tree next to it—do you know that it's called the yin tree, or the ghost tree?"
Zhou Zishu had his arms crossed, face expressionless at the other's ghost stories.
Wen Kexin's descriptions were vivid. "Under the old locust there will be an unknown tombstone, and under them is the path to the Underworld in legends. During the full moon of the seventh month3, wandering souls will crawl out from the nether to return to the mortal realm. The path to the Yellow Spring4 is incredibly cold, and at the end you'll see the gates of hell. Once going past that, you'll no longer see the living, there are equinox flowers5 growing along the way, and then you'll reach the Bridge of Helplessness6… Hey!"
Zhou Zishu already jumped down.
Wen Kexing stared dumbfoundedly at the other's silhouette disappearing behind the entrance before jumping himself. He landed steadily, finding out that the earth was very firm. He looked up to see Zhou Zishu's fleeting smile and the other asking, "Is Brother Wen also interested in seeing the path to the Underworld?"
Wen Kexing nodded, entirely serious. "So that the next time I tell my tales, I can officially add that they're true stories."
Zhou Zishu shook his head, still smiling. All of a sudden, Wen Kexing silenced them with a gesture, listening attentively with a frown. "Can you… hear it? What's that sound?" His voice lowered.
Zhou Zishu tried to distinguish it carefully, his answer indecisive. "…Is it water?"
In split seconds, Wen Kexing lit up, taking the lead without forgetting to keep his voice down, "So the legends are true indeed!"
In front of them was a long narrow path; so cramped that two men couldn't walk side by side, only when they had to shrink their shoulders and crouch down was it somewhat manageable. Zhou Zishu did not enjoy this posture at all, thinking that maybe this path was not the official, but one reserved only to women and children.
It was unclear how far in they had gone. Dirt fell on both of them, but the end was bright and vast—it led to a large cave, with a small river flowing across with unknown origin and destination.
There seemed to be wind inside this cave, but it was also unclear where it came from, the dreary chill came at them from every directions.
Even Wen Kexing shut his mouth at that moment, no longer rambling about how "the path to the Yellow Spring is incredibly cold".
Footnotes.
1 Rakshasa is a demon existing in Hindu mythology and Buddhism.
2 照妖镜 (zhàoyāojìng) is used figuratively to describe things/people that can see the true nature of things and differentiate good and evil.
3 The fifteenth day of the seventh month of the Chinese calendar is also called the Ghost Day. The seventh month is regarded as when spirits and ghosts come out of the Underworld.
4 Chinese term for the Underworld.
5 The flowers associated with death. They are also believed to grow in Hell and guide the souls into their next reincarnation.
6 The bridge that every soul has to cross before being reincarnated.