Hei Wuchang didn’t sit down right away; instead, he glanced at the others.
Jiang Luo immediately picked up on it, assuming Hei Wuchang didn’t want too many people around, and offered, “Brother Hei, if you don’t like it, should we have the others step outside?”
Hei Wuchang shook his head and asked, “These are all friends of Young Master Cyril?”
“Yes,” Jiang Luo introduced everyone in turn.
Hei Wuchang nodded silently. After memorizing each face, he solemnly gave them a formal traditional bow. “Thank you all for taking care of Young Master Cyril.”
Ge Zhu and the others hurriedly returned the bow, awkwardly mimicking the motion, “No need to thank us, really.”
But as soon as they finished bowing, they realized something was off—Who even is this deity, and why is he thanking us on Cyril’s behalf?
While they were still confused, Hei Wuchang had already taken a seat on the sofa, his back straight, eyes on Jiang Luo.
Suppressing the feeling that something was wrong, Jiang Luo explained the situation to Hei Wuchang.
Hei Wuchang paused in thought. “Who is the deceased?”
Jiang Luo replied, “Teng Bi.”
Hei Wuchang chuckled, “Young Master Jiang, I meant his birth date and eight-character horoscope. What year, month, day, and time was he born, and when exactly did he die?”
Jiang Luo fell silent. He turned to Lu Youyi, who shook his head cluelessly.
They were screwed—they didn’t know Teng Bi’s date of birth.
“Does the date of death refer to when he died inside the dragon vein?”
Hei Wuchang said, “No. I mean the day he died and became an undead.”
They were even less likely to know that.
Jiang Luo rubbed his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “Brother Hei, if we manage to find his birth date and death date, can you really bring him back?”
Knowing Hei Wuchang’s strictness, Jiang Luo was nervous that he might refuse on principle.
But Hei Wuchang answered open-mindedly, “Extraordinary places require extraordinary measures. The dragon vein is suppressed by dragon qi and full of righteous energy. The dead don’t turn into ghosts there, so we underworld officials have no business managing those souls. Over time, the Yama Palace stopped sending people to collect them—after all, there are no souls to collect. So no matter who lives or dies in the dragon vein, whether they live and then die, or die and live again, it won’t be recorded by the Yama Palace. What you saw in the ancient tomb—‘One may still hope to return alive after entering’—that’s probably what it meant.”
“However, your friend is an undead, and that’s a blessing in disguise. He already died once. His soul changed from living to dead outside of the dragon vein, so it already belongs to the Underworld. There’s no need to worry about suppression from the dragon vein.”
Jiang Luo pondered this and smiled. “No wonder I didn’t see you when I died in the dragon eye. You once said you’d personally come to fetch my soul and remove the soul-lock chain. At the time, I was thinking of negotiating with you to let me off easy.”
Hei Wuchang looked surprised. “You died once?”
He carefully examined Jiang Luo and shook his head with a sigh. “I only noticed your aura had changed, but didn’t realize you’d actually died once… Looking closely, you do resemble an undead. But your aura isn’t purely undead—it also carries a hint of divine incense.”
“Brother Hei, you have sharp eyes,” Jiang Luo said admiringly. After offering this natural bit of flattery, he asked again, “Brother Hei, is there still hope for Teng Bi?”
“I cannot give you an answer just yet,” Hei Wuchang said seriously, “From what you’ve told me, Teng Bi died before the late Ming Dynasty. That means he’s been dead for at least 400 years. I’ll need to find his soul in the Underworld before we can talk about anything else. But you should understand, the Underworld collects countless souls every day. That’s tens of thousands in a day, how many in a year? And 400 years… that’s an unimaginable number. Without his birth and death dates, I might not find him even after searching for centuries.”
From his words, everyone present finally guessed who he was. After their internal shock, Ge Zhu curiously asked, “How many souls does the Underworld collect in a day?”
Hei Wuchang replied, “Tens of thousands.”
“Hiss—” Everyone gasped in unison.
Even if it were only 10,000 souls per day, that would be 3.65 million in a year. And Teng Bi’s been dead for at least 400 years—that number was too enormous to even calculate.
Jiang Luo was stunned by the scale. Then his face involuntarily softened with sympathy. Looking at Hei Wuchang, he seemed to see Cyril working overtime every night, unpaid and doing multiple jobs.
Hei Wuchang coughed. “Young Master Jiang, Young Master Cyril’s workload has already been greatly reduced.”
“Cyril’s work?” Wenren Lian suddenly asked, “He works with you? Don’t tell me… Cyril is…” Bai Wuchang?
Hei Wuchang nodded calmly. “Young Master Cyril is precisely Bai Wuchang.”
“?!”
Everyone except Jiang Luo was utterly shocked by this sentence. Ge Zhu’s voice floated, “Cyril is Bai Wuchang?!”
Lu Youyi shut his eyes and nearly fainted, only to be caught by Ye Xun just in time. “Oh my god…”
Jiang Luo ignored their wailing and howling. He smiled and asked, “Brother Hei, didn’t you tell me before not to let others know that Cyril is Bai Wuchang?”
“It doesn’t matter anymore,” Hei Wuchang replied composedly. “You are Young Master Cyril’s friends—telling you is fine. Before, I asked you not to say anything because I was afraid someone would target him. But now, there’s no need to worry. Recently, Young Master Cyril has been performing exceptionally well in his role as Bai Wuchang. Not only that, he’s made outstanding contributions to our Underworld.”
Zhuo Zhongqiu felt like she was dreaming. She pinched herself and asked hazily, “What kind of contributions?”
“Young Master Cyril is the first foreign friend to ever serve as Bai Wuchang,” Hei Wuchang said earnestly. “Some of the foreign souls who die here can be handed over to him for communication. That saves a lot of trouble and even helped me learn another language—now I have translation duties to deal with too. Because he’s done so well, the officials above have already decided to officially hire him as Bai Wuchang after his death, to work alongside me. So, he is now the officially designated Bai Wuchang. With the protection of our Underworld, no one can lay a hand on him.”
Hearing this, everyone finally understood.
“Ah… I see.”
“So Cyril will still be Bai Wuchang after he dies…”
“And he even taught you English, huh…”
Seeing his companions looking completely dazed, Jiang Luo felt even more sympathetic for Cyril, who had to keep working even after death. He coughed lightly and asked tactfully, “Cyril is a foreigner—can he stay in the Underworld after he dies?”
Hei Wuchang thought for a moment and sincerely replied, “Thank you for the reminder. I’ll inform the officials and initiate talks with the foreign death gods.”
Jiang Luo gave an awkward laugh. “No need to thank me.”
Cyril, I’ve done all I can for you.
He returned to the main topic. “Brother Hei, I’ll try to find Teng Bi’s information for you soon. After that, I’ll trouble you to help find his soul.”
Hei Wuchang nodded. “It’s a small matter. Do you have any other questions?”
Since he asked, Jiang Luo didn’t hold back. “Brother Hei, why was that shikigami in the ancient tomb able to come back to life again and again?”
“Shikigami are not human, so naturally their fate is tougher,” Hei Wuchang explained. “The tomb built over the dragon’s eye merely keeps corpses from decaying; it doesn’t grant resurrection. He was imprisoned in the tomb to absorb the dragon vein’s essence and offer it to his Master. Besides, you saw those couplets—the shikigami likely never died. His living soul was probably placed in the Underworld Hall by his Master, who bribed underworld messengers to deliver his soul whenever needed.”
So that’s how it was. The dragon’s eye preserving the body was an unexpected bonus, which made Jiang Luo feel relieved. At least he didn’t have to worry about Teng Bi’s body decaying.
“Brother Hei, I have one last question,” Jiang Luo asked. “Do you know about the Fated One?”
Hei Wuchang slowly nodded. “He is currently the only false god.”
Jiang Luo got straight to the point. “How can a false god be killed?”
Hei Wuchang’s brows furrowed slightly as he looked at Jiang Luo. Jiang Luo met his gaze with complete openness, clearly showing his intent.
Hei Wuchang replied, “We do not interfere in conflicts of the living world.”
In other words, he couldn’t answer that question.
Jiang Luo sighed but still smiled. “Thank you for your trouble today, Brother Hei.”
Hei Wuchang gave a slight nod and closed his eyes, preparing to leave. But just before disappearing, he suddenly said, “If you meet a vegetable-selling woman on the road, don’t speak to her.”
With that, he vanished.
Cyril slowly opened his eyes and yawned sleepily. His gaze was dazed and tired. “Did it work?”
Wenren Lian gently patted his head. “It worked. Go to sleep now.”
Cyril didn’t resist. He laid down on the sofa and fell asleep.
Jiang Luo was thinking about Hei Wuchang’s final words.
What did that mean?
He wasn’t the only one confused—the others found it strange too. With Cyril asleep in the living room, the rest moved to other rooms to puzzle over Teng Bi’s birth and death details and Hei Wuchang’s mysterious comment.
Jiang Luo couldn’t help but feel Hei Wuchang was subtly hinting at a way to kill the false god. But what exactly did that sentence mean?
They thought about it until night fell but still had no clue. Zhuo Zhongqiu’s brain felt like it was about to explode. Hoarsely, she said, “Why don’t we rest for tonight and think again tomorrow? As for Teng Bi’s matter, let Ge Zhu ask Ge Wuchen first.”
Ge Zhu had no objections. “I’ll ask him tomorrow.”
Too much had happened in one day. Everyone was more or less exhausted. Lu Youyi hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in days, and for once, he felt drowsy. He wobbled to his feet. “Makes sense. I’m heading to bed first. Jiang Luo, coming?”
Jiang Luo stood up. “Let’s go.”
The two left together, and the rest gradually dispersed.
Lu Youyi’s house had limited guest rooms—each had to accommodate two to three people. Kuang Zheng was busy refining tools at school and couldn’t leave at this crucial stage. Jiang Luo shared a room with Lu Youyi. The rest paired off, and Zhuo Zhongqiu got a room to herself.
Wenren Lian and Ge Zhu carried Cyril into Ye Xun’s room, then returned side by side to the guest room.
Ge Zhu was still in shock. “I never thought Cyril would turn out to be Bai Wuchang. D*mn, Bai Wuchang is actually a foreigner! I’ve really broadened my horizons.”
Wenren Lian couldn’t help but laugh. “I was shocked too.”
They opened the door to the guest room and shut it behind them. Wenren Lian was just about to turn on the light when he realized no matter how he tried, it wouldn’t turn on. As he was wondering what was going on, Ge Zhu suddenly gripped his arm, voice tense: “Wenren—there’s someone in the room!”
Wenren Lian was startled and turned his head to look.
On the single armchair beside the bed, a dark figure was leisurely seated.
Moonlight from outside the window cast a silver glow across the person’s body, outlining his sharp, pale nose bridge and perfectly chiseled jawline in the darkness. His hands rested lightly on the armrests, and the moonlight landed on his clearly defined fingers, which wore bony rings.
His fingers tapped the armrest slowly, rhythmically, and he spoke unhurriedly, “You’re here.”
Just from that little bit of moonlight—and the contradictory, dangerous charisma this person gave off—Wenren Lian instantly guessed who he was.
Ge Zhu also guessed it.
Their expressions grew grave. Wenren Lian pulled Ge Zhu back a step. “Chi You.”
The malicious ghost chuckled softly, and the upturned corners of his mouth gleamed faintly in the pale moonlight.
Ge Zhu quietly tried to open the door and leave—but it wouldn’t open.
Not good.
Ever since he found out his older brother Ge Wuchen was one of Chi You’s subordinates, Ge Zhu had felt that he had never truly seen Chi You clearly. He understood better than Wenren Lian just how terrifying and unfathomable Chi You was. For the past half month, Ge Wuchen had repeatedly, sternly warned him not to provoke Chi You. If even Ge Wuchen feared this man—Ge Zhu couldn’t begin to imagine how frightening Chi You really was.
Which is why, the moment he saw him, Ge Zhu’s skin practically went taut from tension!
Wenren Lian still managed to speak calmly, “You came for us?”
The ghost said, “Isn’t it obvious?”
Wenren Lian tried hard to stay composed and cautiously asked, “Why did you come to us? What do you want?”
“Shhh, don’t be nervous. I’m just here to make a deal,” the ghost raised a finger to his lips, then shrugged with a helpless expression. He spoke slowly, “You’re Jiang Luo’s friends, and Jiang Luo cares about you a lot. Wenren Lian, I know you’re clever—good at scheming and persuading people. Ge Zhu, you’re also sharp. When I taught you both in class, your intelligence left a strong impression on me.”
The ghost praised them lightly, but every word was like a venomous snake flashing its fangs. Wenren Lian and Ge Zhu grew more and more on edge, their expressions stiffening. Just as their alarm bells were blaring, the ghost changed the subject and said:
“I’ll give you fifteen days. Within fifteen days, get Jiang Luo to willingly admit he likes me, and have him confess to me of his own accord. If you fail…”
His voice dropped lower and lower. Then he suddenly smiled. “You’ve both been in my dreams. If you can’t do this, I’ll be very upset. And if I’m upset… maybe I’ll make the world turn into one of my dreams. By then, what will happen to you, your families, and your friends?”
Ge Zhu’s heart roared in shock. “You’re threatening us?!”
The ghost snapped his fingers. “Not wrong to put it that way.”
He stood up, and his tall figure radiated overwhelming pressure in the darkness. Both Ge Zhu and Wenren Lian felt a primal chill rise within them. The ghost looked down on them from above, his eyes deep and unreadable.
“If you succeed—if Jiang Luo is with me—not only will I refrain from destroying the entire metaphysics world, I’ll also give you Teng Bi’s information, so you’ll have a chance to bring him back to life.” The ghost turned around, slowly opened the balcony door, and gave the two one last glance. “I’m calling it a deal, but I don’t want to hear a refusal. If fifteen days pass, and he still wants to break up with me…”
The ghost’s voice turned cold. “You won’t want to know what I’ll do.”
With that, he vanished from the balcony.
