TL: Hua

Chapter 23: Underworld Messengers

Ji Ge had two threads wrapped around his left and right wrists.

The white thread on his left wrist connected to the living world—this was the thread of life and death. Once the physical body died, the thread of life and death would snap, reconnecting instead to the underworld. At that point, Ji Ge would be completely dead.

The red thread bound to his right wrist was the thread of fate, the other end holding the lover who was currently praying with eyes closed back at the hospital.

The white thread was fading so fast it was nearly invisible, whereas the red thread grew increasingly vivid and crimson.

As long as that white thread could be extended, it meant re-establishing Ji Ge’s connection to the living world, giving him a chance to survive. However, connecting the thread of life and death was equivalent to extending a life span… Thus, it required both Ji Ge and You Xingyue to give it their absolute all.

You Xingyue wasn’t certain at all if he could pull it off, nor did he know if Ji Ge could hold on. Retaining a dying person required the victim themselves to possess a fierce will to live.

Fortunately, there was Wei Mingsi in the mortal realm, a person Ji Ge could never bring himself to let go of.

You Xingyue closed his eyes. Countless red threads poured from his fingertips, interweaving into a massive cocoon that enveloped both him and Ji Ge.

Not far away, Bu Liuke tightly clutched a single strand of hair. When the giant red cocoon appeared, his heart instantly leaped into his throat. How could he use so many threads at once?!

However, Bu Liuke’s shock did not last long. The clanking sound of chains echoed through the air, and out of the void, underworld messengers actually appeared!

Ji Ge wasn’t even dead yet; how could underworld messengers show up?!

The two underworld messengers couldn’t see Bu Liuke. They simply stared in dumbfounded astonishment at the massive red cocoon in the flowerbed.

The messenger holding the mourning staff asked, “What on earth is that? Ji Ge’s soul seems to be trapped inside. What should we do?”

The messenger with the soul-binding chains tested the waters: “Should we break the cocoon and pull Ji Ge’s soul out?”

The mourning staff messenger gestured a few times and bounced the staff twice off the red cocoon. Unable to break it, he clicked his tongue. “…Strange, this thing is remarkably tough.”

The chain-wielding messenger was filled with worry. “The city god above explicitly named Ji Ge to take up an official post. If we don’t bring him back, we’ll definitely be reprimanded and maybe even fined.”

The mourning staff messenger beamed with confidence. “What are you afraid of? As the saying goes, ‘If the King Yama wants you dead by the third watch, who dares keep you until the fifth?’ Ji Ge is bound to die tonight. Once the cocoon breaks, we’ll take his soul. Being appointed as an underworld officer is a wonderful thing. He won’t refuse.”

The chain-wielding messenger thought about it and agreed. “True.”

Seeing that the two messengers made no further moves, Bu Liuke quietly let out a sigh of relief.

All of his current power was being used just to sustain his own existence. If he had to fight the underworld messengers, he likely wouldn’t be able to stop them.

Inside the Cocoon

Ji Ge was like a sieve that couldn’t be plugged. His spiritual energy leaked everywhere. As the last withered yellow leaf fell from the white peony plant, Ji Ge felt a bone-chilling cold, his body heat draining rapidly as he completely lost his ability to maintain human form.

Now!

You Xingyue opened his eyes, his dark irises reflecting the sky-spanning array of red threads.

Having drawn out so many threads, You Xingyue’s lips were completely drained of color. His gaze shed its usual gentle appearance, revealing an intense, absolute focus.

In an instant, the red threads dangling from the cocoon intertwined and surged madly into Ji Ge’s body, securing the connection between his soul and physical vessel layer upon layer.

Layer after layer of red threads; level upon level of desperate retention.

Ji Ge’s consciousness grew hazy. It felt as if he had been cast into a chaotic void, unable to remember who he was or where he was.

Ji Ge wanted to just fall asleep like this, but his soul was being tugged at by someone. Even in his stupor, his heart remained suspended. He felt there was someone he couldn’t bear to leave behind, someone who kept him from falling peacefully into eternal sleep.

“Don’t sleep!”

A crisp, clear voice was strained to its absolute limit. Ji Ge forced his eyes open with all the effort he could muster, catching sight of the handsome face before him.

That’s right… he couldn’t go to sleep.

Ji Ge threw his head back, his consciousness suddenly jerking awake.

Wei Mingsi… was waiting for him!

Ji Ge tightly squeezed his own wrist, desperately fighting to break free from the heavy slumber pulling at him.

His connection with the mortal world was so shallow, yet Wei Mingsi’s love for him was so deep.

—

Far away at the hospital, Wei Mingsi was suddenly struck by a sudden wave of panic. Arching his back, he pressed his hand hard against his chest. His heart was hammering wildly, pounding violently inside his chest cavity. He had no choice but to gasp for air, trying desperately to soothe the inexplicable terror overtaking him.

Curling into a ball, Wei Mingsi could no longer hold back his tears. They slid down his wrist, falling directly onto the red thread.

At that exact moment, the red thread around Ji Ge’s wrist snapped taut.

It felt as though someone was tugging at Ji Ge with every ounce of their strength.

And indeed, there was such a person waiting in that distant hospital right now, where the walls of the corridor silently listened to the most fervent of prayers.

—

A sudden surge of heat rushed through Ji Ge’s wrist. His translucent human form opened its eyes, though his gaze remained unfocused and hazy.

You Xingyue’s face was deathly pale. Ji Ge’s connection to the living world was on the brink of snapping. You Xingyue was essentially using the thread to forcefully suspend Ji Ge’s life, an act that was undeniably defiance against fate itself. Exerting a bit more force, You Xingyue sliced his fingertip against a red thread, allowing fresh blood to stream along the string and flow into Ji Ge’s body.

You Xingyue felt his mind ease slightly. Sure enough, the bond between Wei Mingsi and Ji Ge was strong enough to hold onto Ji Ge’s final breath.

Following Ji Ge’s wrist, the red thread located several faint white threads that bound him to the mortal realm, melting right into them. As soon as one red thread was exhausted, the red cocoon lowered another.

The white threads were still incredibly faint. Even after absorbing hundreds of red threads, they had only extended by a fraction, their ends floating aimlessly in the air without an anchor.

More and more red threads cascaded down, trying desperately to connect to the white ones.

You Xingyue had already released Ji Ge’s hand, knelt down in the flower field, closed his eyes, and behind him, countless red threads were trying to save this peerless white peony.

Clutching the strand of hair, Bu Liuke stood up abruptly, his expression turning gravely serious in an instant. The thread-woven cocoon in the flower field was unraveling!

In just a short hour, Ji Ge’s fading human form had actually been preserved. Though still unstable and frequently shifting back into his original peony form, it was holding on.

The last hundred red threads hovered briefly before surging recklessly into the white thread.

You Xingyue slowly opened his eyes and coughed heavily into his hand, covering his lips. The biting, gloomy energy of the flower field seeped through his clothes and into his body, making him shiver in the chill of the summer night.

Bu Liuke anxiously bit his finger. The threads within the red cocoon were completely depleted, yet Ji Ge’s human form had not fully stabilized, and the far end of the white thread still hadn’t connected to the mortal realm.

Just a little bit more! They were just a little bit away!

Bu Liuke wanted to lend the threads inside his own body to You Xingyue, but he hesitated, worried that a hasty move might only do more harm than good.

Fighting off a wave of dizziness, You Xingyue propped himself up with a hand against his knee.

He truly couldn’t draw any more threads. The remaining threads in his body had long since merged with his flesh and bone; unless he carved out his own flesh, he would never be able to extract another strand.

Thankfully… thankfully, he had prepared in advance.

Yu Xingyue’s vision blurred. He shook his head, trying to clear his mind, and then reached out his hand to Bu Liuke.

Bu Liuke was bewildered: Does Xingyue need my help?

The strand of hair in his hand grew increasingly red, and as it slipped from Bu Liuke’s grasp, a familiar power emanated from it. It was a thread! This strand of hair actually possessed the power of thread!

It was a strand of Wei Mingsi’s hair. After days of being nurtured by Zitan, it had grown dark, lustrous, and resilient, faintly imbued with Zitan’s weak spiritual energy.

Bu Liuke was overjoyed—

Of course.

Hair and thread shared the same form, and a physical object in the shape of a thread would naturally enhance its strength.

You Xingyue couldn’t stop himself from coughing aloud. Coldness seeped into every inch of his body, and the pain and exhaustion were rapidly draining his strength. Pulling himself together, he reached out and tapped Ji Ge’s right wrist, leaving a smear of bright red blood on his skin—

The wound on You Xingyue’s fingertip was still bleeding.

At the same time, the red thread tightly bound to Ji Ge trembled as it extended outward.

You Xingyue forced himself to his feet. As he rose, Wei Mingsi’s hair floated into midair. Completely wrapped in thread energy, it turned into a strange, glowing red thread.

You Xingyue intertwined his fingers and gently closed his eyes.

The red thread formed from the hair grew brighter and brighter, its two ends stretching outward. One end connected to the red thread on Ji Ge’s wrist, while the other…

Bu Liuke suddenly heard a crisp, clear snap— “Pa!”

The strand of hair suddenly snapped taut. A massive red thread spanning across most of the city stretching all the way from the hospital to the flower field abruptly materialized, grabbing hold of the white thread on Ji Ge’s left wrist and surging its final burst of energy into it!

The once-flickering white thread instantly pulled tight, its far end firmly anchored in the void, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

It’s connected!

Ji Ge’s illusory human form finally solidified. From the knees down, his root system transformed into human legs. Pulled back from the edge of life and death, he curled on the ground, coughing violently.

The mourning staff messenger: “…”

His staff clattered to the ground. He was completely unable to process the shock: These days, people are actually snatching souls back from the underworld?!

The chain-wielding messenger wore a miserable expression: “It’s over… Ji Ge was on the roster. The two of us came together and still failed to bring him back. What do we do now?!”

The mourning staff messenger: “Threaten that guy and take Ji Ge by force!”

Being new to the job, the chain-wielding messenger looked utterly confused: “Will that really work?”

The mourning staff messenger snarled, “It will!”

Manifesting his form, the mourning staff messenger glared at You Xingyue with drooping eyelids: “Underworld messengers on official business, ordered to claim Ji Ge. What line of cultivation do you belong to that you dare defy the underworld?”

He was an ordinary underworld messenger, sporting a paper-white face like a corpse. Holding a white mourning staff and floating above the ground, his appearance alone at night could scare a faint-hearted mortal to death.

The chain-wielding messenger manifested right behind him, holding a heavy soul-binding chain with a dark expression as he chimed in, “That’s right! How dare you oppose the underworld mesengers?”

You Xingyue pressed his fingers against his temples. “I am no cultivator. Just the owner of an antique shop.”

His head was throbbing with an excruciating ache; he had to rely on Bu Liuke’s support just to keep from collapsing. “Underworld Messengers, if Ji Ge were to come back from the dead, it would indeed be considered that I stole a soul from the underworld. But Ji Ge was merely on the verge of death this entire time; he never actually died. How can you accuse me of obstructing your duties?”

“If saving him violates the laws of life and death, wouldn’t every doctor on earth be guilty of obstructing your duties as well?”

You Xingyue didn’t possess the power to resurrect the dead. If Ji Ge had truly died, even he would have been helpless. But Ji Ge hadn’t died. You Xingyue had simply used a single thread to hold onto a soul that refused to leave the mortal world.

The two underworld messengers exchanged glances.

What this man said… actually made a lot of sense.

But if he saved Ji Ge, how were they supposed to report back to their superior?

The mourning staff messenger thought for a moment before darting over to Ji Ge’s side: “When King Yama wants you dead at the third watch, who dares—”

A crisp cracking sound rang out.

The sentence was cut short as the mourning staff in the messenger’s hand was snapped clean in half.

“I dare.”

Blood dripped steadily from You Xingyue’s fingertips. The force that had just shattered the mourning staff was a thread condensed entirely from You Xingyue’s own blood.

The mourning staff messenger: “…”

Even as a ghost, the messenger couldn’t help but stare at You Xingyue with an expression as if he’d just seen a ghost.

Was this some kind of joke? This was a genuine magical artifact issued directly by the underworld. How could it be broken so easily by a mere mortal?!

You Xingyue’s eyes turned cold.

Ji Ge had exhausted all the freely movable threads inside his body, but for many years, the vast majority of threads within You Xingyue had already fused into his blood and flesh. Forget two low-ranking underworld messengers. Even if the Chief Soul Collector came himself, You Xingyue wouldn’t flinch.

Under the Chief Soul Collector was the Soul Collecting Envoy, and under them was the underworld messenger. The two standing before him to claim Ji Ge’s soul were just two low-ranking underworld officials.

A half-baked Taoist master was still a Taoist master. Without a trump card to guard his home, how could he ever call himself one?

“Ji Ge is someone I saved. Even if King Yama himself were standing here today, he would still have to reason it out with me. Just because you are officials from the underworld, does that give you the right to disregard reason? Or is the Underworld, the very place that governs the balance of Yin and Yang, actually the most unreasonable place in existence?”

Bu Liuke was equally displeased. Pursing his lips tightly, he stood guard resolutely in front of Ji Ge.

You Xingyue had logic on his side, and more importantly, the two underworld messengers were simply no match for him. With a darkened face, the mourning staff messenger pulled back his hand: “Crossing the underworld… you just wait.”

With that, a gust of eerie wind swept past, and the two messengers vanished on the spot.

Only then did You Xingyue slowly sit down, looking down at Ji Ge.

Ji Ge’s eyes were closed, sunken into a deep slumber.

Having been dragged back from the brink of death by You Xingyue, it was impossible for him to bounce back immediately; he would remain frail for a long time to come.

You Xingyue leaned down and lifted Ji Ge into his arms. The white peony was slender and light, not heavy at all. Carrying Ji Ge over to the pavilion used for admiring flowers, You Xingyue found a spot and sat down.

Too exhausted to walk any further, You Xingyue helplessly wrapped his arms around his knees, burying his face in his lap, his voice slurred: “Bu Liuke, I’m going to rest for a bit. If the underworld messengers come back, remember to wake me…”

Bu Liuke panicked: “But you’ll catch a cold!”

However, You Xingyue couldn’t hear him anymore. The moment he closed his eyes, he succumbed to sleep.

—

The Underworld

Clutching his broken mourning staff, the underworld messenger located the Soul Collecting Envoy.

Adding fuel to the fire, the messenger exaggerated the event before presenting the snapped mourning staff to the Soul Collecting Envoy.

Furious, the Soul Collecting Envoy immediately escorted the messenger straight toward the main hall of the Chief Soul Collector.

“My Lord.”

The Soul Collecting Envoy knocked on the door, bowing respectfully outside the entrance.

Inside, the Chief Soul Collector was currently pouring snacks into his mouth. Hearing the voice outside, he hurriedly shoved the snacks back into his desk, cleared his throat, and called out, “Come in.”

The Soul Collecting Envoy and the messenger walked in with their heads lowered. The Soul Collecting Envoy reported, “Chief, I have an urgent matter to report.”

The Chief Soul Collector scratched his cheek, his gaze inadvertently drifting toward the bag of snacks hidden in his desk. He hadn’t finished them yet.

“I’m off shift today. Why didn’t you go to the chief on duty?”

The Soul Collecting Envoy replied, “It was a sudden emergency, and we couldn’t find the Chief on duty in time.”

Fine then.

The Chief Soul Collector asked, “What’s the matter?”

A look of anger flushed across the Soul Collecting Envoy’s face: “Reporting to My Lord, a mortal in the living realm obstructed an underworld messenger from carrying out his official duties and even resorted to violence! He spoke with utter disrespect toward the underworld!”

Sitting up straight, the Chief Soul Collector asked with curiosity, “Is that so? He interfered with soul collection?”

The Soul Collecting Envoy explained: “Indeed. In the Yingjiang region, there is a six-hundred-year-old white peony demon whose lifespan was at its end. Out of consideration for his deep merits, the City God granted him permission to join the underworld as an official. Who could have expected that a mortal would actually save the peony demon? Isn’t that outright snatching a soul from the underworld? When the messenger tried to reason with him, not only did he refuse to admit his mistake, but he even struck and injured the messenger!”

“The peony demon was saved?”

The chief’s expression darkened as he scolded coldly, “So you’re saying you want to go back and kill a peony demon that someone managed to save? You claim he’s snatching souls from the Underworld, but from where I sit, you’re the ones trying to rob a living being! As the saying goes, it’s easier to see King Yama than to deal with his underlings. It’s one thing for you to demand sacrifices in private, but now you’re not even going to listen to reason? There are countless doctors in hospitals fighting against fate to save lives every single day. Are you going to go around killing off their patients one by one just to bring them back?!”

It wasn’t as if the chief didn’t know that many of the underworld messengers used their positions to solicit favors, but he turned a blind eye as long as it wasn’t excessive.

After all, they dealt with heavy workloads for meager benefits; demanding a few offerings and joss paper from the mortal realm was harmless enough.

The Soul Collecting Envoy was dumbfounded, never expecting that the chief would be angry about such a thing. He hurriedly tried to defend himself: “B-but he insulted the dignity of the underworld! Not only did he shatter a mourning staff, but he even blustered that he wouldn’t even be afraid if King Yama himself descended to the mortal realm!”

Saying that, the Soul Collecting Envoy held up the snapped mourning staff.

Taking it over and looking at the neat cut on the mourning staff, the chief said in surprise, “There’s actually a cultivator in the mortal realm bold enough to do this nowadays? What’s his name?”

Snapping a mourning staff? Wow, he’s actually got some skill.

The chief guessed that the underworld messenger had probably offended that mortal. However, beating up an official of the underworld was extremely inappropriate. After all, the dignity of the underworld was paramount. If anyone could just offend them, who would obediently let their souls be collected in the future?

The Soul Collecting Envoy looked toward the underworld messenger.

Hearing this line of thought, the underworld messenger knew his superior might step in, so he said with delight, “Reporting, my lord. He said he isn’t a cultivator but the owner of an antique shop. Your servant doesn’t know his name, but it can definitely be found in the Book of Life and Death.”

The chief was still scrutinizing the mourning staff and casually remarked, “Oh, an antique shop owner. Bosses these days are really versatile and quite capable. Even the mourning staff was—”

The chief suddenly whipped his head around: “Say that again. An owner of what?”

Not understanding why his superior’s expression had suddenly changed, the underworld messenger replied cautiously, “An antique shop.”

The chief’s face gradually turned green. He had noticed a few key phrases: Yingjiang City, antique shop owner.

Could it be… the owner of Not Keeping Guests?

In the mortal realm, the owner of Not Keeping Guests was merely a rather peculiar figure, but to the underworld, the owner’s status was paramount.

Because Wangfu, the core cycle of reincarnation in the underworld, relied on the owner of Not Keeping Guests to untangle the threads.

Therefore, every time Not Keeping Guests reopened, the ghost deities

in the underworld would actively inquire about the situation. After all, Wangfu’s condition determined the efficiency of the underworld’s operations.

As a high-ranking ghost deity, the Chief Soul Collector naturally knew what was going on with Not Keeping Guests’s new owner.

A very handsome young man, stronger than any of his predecessors, so much so that he had even awakened Lord Wangfu from his slumber to personally meet him.

The owner of Not Keeping Guests was never someone to be offended in the first place, and this current one was someone they couldn’t afford to provoke at all!

Holding onto the last sliver of hope, Yingjiang City was a place of remarkable talents with countless antique shops. Perhaps, just perhaps, there is an antique shop owner who lives in seclusion in the city?

With great difficulty, the chief asked, “What kind of person is he?”

The underworld messenger recalled carefully, “He’s a young man wearing glasses, very good-looking, quite tall, and he uses a very strange thread. Your servant’s mourning staff was cut by a single thread… My Lord! My Lord, what’s wrong with you?!”

Young, handsome, wears glasses. Uses a strange thread…

The chief felt his vision go dark.

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