Chapter 23: The Living Do Not Block the Path of Ghosts

Seeing how certain I was, Uncle Hu’s tense expression relaxed slightly.

"July, what do I need to prepare? Tell me now." Uncle Hu was anxious; he was desperate to save his son, Xiaojun. I understood his feelings—the agony of losing a child is heart-wrenching, and it was only natural for him to be overwhelmed.

I instructed Uncle Hu to prepare a sesame oil lamp, two maces, three stacks of spirit money, and a large vat of glutinous rice water. Despite it being the middle of the night, he gathered everything quickly for the sake of his son’s life. I then began to set up the formation, following the occult arts my grandfather had passed down to me.

The formation was called the "Soul-Startling Array." Once a soul reaper entered it, they would be forced to retreat rather than advance. This was one of the foundations of my confidence in rescuing Xiaojun from the underworld envoys. I planted the two maces on either side of the courtyard, covered the spirit money with "Soul-Startling" incantations, and ignited them with a lighter. After they burned to ash, I scattered the remains at the gate and hid the vat of glutinous rice water within the courtyard.

Once finished, I told Uncle Hu to hold the oil lamp and stand guard beside Xiaojun’s body. I instructed him to light the wick the moment the moon disappeared and to ensure it never went out, as it served as Xiaojun’s soul-guiding lamp. I also emphasized that the moment he heard me shatter the water vat, he must call out Xiaojun’s name repeatedly. Uncle Hu noted every step with gravity and took his place by his son’s body.

As for me, I pulled up a wooden stool and sat quietly in the center of the courtyard, waiting for the arrival of the soul reapers. Time ticked by. I was calm at first, but as the night deepened, my hands began to tremble. After all, I was not facing common ghosts or specters, but true collectors of souls. This was my first encounter with such entities; I had only ever heard of them in my grandfather's stories.

A chilling gust of wind blew, and the locked gate was pushed open from the outside. I knew the time had come. Through my "Divine Eyes," I saw a long footprint appear on the ground. They were here. I gathered my focus, drawing the "Mystic Yang" energy my grandfather had taught me into my lungs and chest.

To deal with soul reapers, I had to give it my all. Otherwise, the odds of success were nearly zero. Following the footprint, several shadows slowly manifested from ethereal forms into solid figures at the gate. To my surprise, there were two soul reapers. It seemed the underworld placed great importance on the dark arts that had killed Xiaojun.

The leading reaper was short, around five-foot-five, dressed in grim black robes and a formal cap, clutching a massive chain. Three souls were bound to this chain; it seemed they had collected two others besides Xiaojun. These souls hung their heads, walking in a respectful line, dragged by the lead reaper. Trailing behind them was a towering figure, nearly ten feet tall, holding a spiked mace—the enforcer.

"Hu Jun, you have arrived home. Take a look, and let your worldly affairs be settled." The lead reaper shook the chain, and Xiaojun lifted his head, gazing at his home with a blank, longing expression. The other two souls dared not move, keeping their heads bowed.

Seeing this, I knew it was time to act. I took a deep breath, strode to the gate, and bowed with cupped hands. "Respected envoys, may I ask if my brother might have one last sip of rice soup from home before he departs, so he can let go of his worldly attachments?" I tried to keep my voice steady, masking my nerves.

The short reaper’s withered face twisted into a sneer, his murky eyes fixing on me with malice. "We ferry souls; the living must make way. Once a soul is on the path, the past must be forgotten. Leave at once, lest you invite disaster!"

The creature spoke in human tongue, and its words sent a chill through my marrow. With that, it exhaled a puff of necrotic miasma toward me. An ordinary person would have collapsed instantly, their memory of this night wiped away upon waking. But I had already channeled the Mystic Yang energy to my chest, easily suppressing the foul breath.

Seeing that I remained conscious, the short reaper’s expression turned strange. "You are an interesting lad. To consume ghost breath without falling into a stupor—you came prepared. You are young and have clearly cultivated some skill; it would be a pity to die so soon. Leave now, before you cut your life short!"

It sounded reasonable, but I knew this wasn't out of concern; it was a reluctance to engage. High-ranking soul reapers possess great intellect and understand the ways of the world. They know that powerful families often hire experts, and they prefer to avoid unnecessary conflict to protect their spiritual forms.

I remained calm. "Respected envoy, my friend Hu Jun is young and his time was not up; he was stolen by dark arts. I only ask for a moment of peace before he goes. What harm could a bowl of rice soup possibly do?"

The reaper frowned, its attitude shifting. It rattled its chain, warning me, "Boy, you know who we are and who we serve. We follow the laws of the underworld. Do not try to dictate our path. And what is your name? Do you not fear us?"

The reaper was testing me. In every region, there are formidable geomancers, and these envoys keep track of them. Seeing my composure, it was growing anxious, fearing I might be some renowned master.

I smiled faintly. "My name is Chen Qiyue, a simple Qingma physiognomist."

"Ha! A nobody, yet you dare to block the path of the underworld? You truly know no fear," the reaper scoffed. "I do not wish to harm the living, so I will give you one chance. Seal your lips for three years, and I will let you live. Otherwise, I shall take your soul right now, and you shall never cultivate again!"

Seeing that I was a nobody, the short reaper began to bluster with arrogance.