Chapter 092: Mercy Cannot Guide the Masterless Wandering Soul Home; Those Who Recklessly Entangle Themselves in Karma Shall Not Reenter the Cycle of Rebirth for Three Lifetimes

I closed those worthless bargain-bin trinkets, got to my feet, and walked up to Song Zhong. Looking down at him, I asked, "Awake now? Not bad. You managed to cry out in such a short time."

I was smiling as I looked at him, but I never expected him to lunge up the next second and seize me by the collar.

His strength was beyond anything I had imagined. He yanked me so hard that my nose nearly brushed his.

Song Zhong's face was streaked with tears. He glared at me viciously and shouted, "Who told you to stick your nose in this!"

"I..."

He gave me no chance to explain. His fist slammed into my left cheek.

In an instant, the room spun and I lurched backward onto the bed.

Crash!

The sound of the scuffle inside immediately drew the attention of the old men outside.

They rushed in at once. When they saw Song Zhong leap off the bed and go to hit me again, they hurried to restrain him. "Coach, what are you doing? Have you lost your mind? Mr. Jiang here was the one who saved you!"

"Mr. Jiang? What nonsense! My business is none of your concern!"

With a furious shout, Song Zhong shook them off and ran straight out of the room.

One of the old men helped me to my feet. I wiped the blood from the corner of my mouth and looked at the others with an exasperated smile. "So he's always this bold?"

No one could answer me. Perhaps afraid I would hold Song Zhong accountable, the old men began speaking up for him.

For the rest, I did not know. But Song Baoguo would have to compensate me for this. His son had punched me hard enough to draw blood.

I spat out a mouthful of blood and followed in the direction Song Zhong had fled.

That guy was fast. He had gone around the outer edge of the cemetery and was heading toward a depression behind the hill.

I knew this cemetery almost as well as the security guards did.

After all, I had been coming here with my grandfather since I was a child, and I had heard a little about that hollow behind the hill.

It was said that ever since the Republican era, that depression had been a mass grave, stacked with bodies of every kind.

There were servants from wealthy households, gamblers who had borrowed money and refused to repay it, and even vagrants dying from incurable illness.

By the time the country had fallen into years of war, even more corpses had been buried in that mass grave.

It was not until after the reform period that the authorities finally dealt with the place properly. Most of the bodies were gathered up and laid to rest.

But there are always a few that slip through the net.

As my grandfather used to say, if there is no karmic tie, then there is no need to take it upon yourself.

In other words, those ownerless wandering spirits that still linger in the world of the living remain because they are burdened by their own sins. Their time has not yet come, so they must continue drifting here until the hour arrives and they return of their own accord to the netherworld.

If someone like us forces our way in to send them on, we not only bind ourselves to their karma, we also ruin what remains of their fate.

As the saying goes: a compassionate heart does not carry unclaimed souls home; meddle recklessly with karma, and you will know no rebirth for three lifetimes.

As long as they are not harming anyone, best to leave them be.

But the signs from Song Zhong now suggested that some of those ownerless spirits might be growing restless.

When I found him, he was kneeling atop a huge white stone in the center of the depression.

He was crying bitterly, bowing his head again and again, muttering apologies under his breath.

He was so ruthless that he had split the skin in the center of his forehead and drawn blood.

Once. Twice.

Song Zhong showed no sign of stopping, so I hurried over behind him.

I grabbed his collar from the back and yanked him forcefully off the boulder.

His footing failed. After hitting the ground, he rolled twice before steadying himself. When he saw that it was me, anger flooded his face. "You again! What do you want now!"

Narrowing my eyes, I pointed at his forehead and said, "What I want is not important. What matters is what you are doing."

He took a deep breath. "None of your business! Get lost!"

I planted my hands on my hips and gave a cold laugh. "Young Master Song, do you think I want to meddle with you? If not for your father, do you think I'd be taking your punch?"

"What did you say?" Song Zhong stared at me, eyes blazing.

The veins at both temples bulged. When he stood up, his fists were clenched tight.

I drew a breath and told him why I had come. "Song Baoguo asked me to look after you. He said you had taken a liking to ghosts and spirits. At first I planned to leave you alone, but you're father and son, after all. He was afraid you'd go astray, so he asked me to take you in hand and teach you the real ropes."

But Song Zhong seemed to have a deep grievance against Song Baoguo. "My business has nothing to do with him! Go back and tell him this: from the day he threw me out of the house, I no longer had a father!"

Song Baoguo really was unreliable. If he and his son were estranged, why not say so earlier? This only made things awkward.

"Fine, fine. I don't care what goes on between you and Song Baoguo. But how do we settle the fact that you hit me? You were possessed, I saved you, and not only do you fail to thank me, you still punch me?"

Song Zhong roared, "Who told you to meddle? I was in the middle of sending the ownerless spirits here on their way, and I was almost done! Then you came along and scattered everything!"

He began to sniffle, and anyone who did not know better might have thought his father had died.

After hearing him out, I frowned slightly.

He had clearly been possessed, so how had that turned into sending spirits on their way?

Before I could speak, Song Zhong looked at me and said, "As long as I lend my body to it and let it fulfill its final wish, it can be reborn. You ruined everything at the last moment!"

Where had he picked up such absurd reasoning? If he said that aloud, people would laugh their heads off.

And yet he still looked down on me first. "Hmph. And you call yourself the Jianghuai Full-Service Funeral Parlor? Song Baoguo must be rich and foolish to have been fooled by a kid like you!"

I could not help laughing. "You... Who told you that what you were doing was sending it on its way?"

"Hmph! Of course it was written in The Complete Book of Yin and Yang! You don't even know that? Useless!"

Ever since I had started handling business for my grandfather on my own, no one had ever called me useless.

To be looked down on by an amateur today left me somewhat displeased. After all, I was only eighteen.

The Complete Book of Yin and Yang he was talking about was one I had just seen on the bed in his other room, and that thing was nothing more than something found online.

"Fine." His words stirred my competitive spirit. "Tonight, I'll prove to you what real sending-on looks like."

I drew a long breath and looked out over the depression.

Because of Song Zhong, karma between this place and me had already taken shape. It seemed the ownerless spirits here had been waiting for someone like me all along.

Karma often forms in the most unintentional of moments.

A kind heart does not guide unclaimed wandering souls home. Meddle with karma in vain, and you will not be reborn for three lifetimes.