Chapter 17: Events from Five Years Ago (Part 2)
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Arthas admitted defeat.
She would wager that if this had been centuries ago, with such a sly underworld envoy under her command, she would have long since sent him to the feet of Kṣitigarbha for salvation. Alas… when you’re stuck in a Poké Ball, you have no choice but to bow your head…
Can you believe that the last underworld envoy in history put all his survival skill points into cunning and trickery?
Suppressing her discomfort, she sneered, “You’re sending him there? Isn’t that a death sentence?”
“Nonono.” Qin Ye shook his finger with certainty. “First, you’re forgetting Wang Dachui’s identity.”
“…And who is Wang Dachui?”
“That’s not the point. The point is, Hammer is Wang Zemin’s son. Only he can enter President Wang’s office. Second, if he goes during the day, no ghost would dare appear.”
Arthas thought for a moment—flawless logic!
“Logically, there’s nothing wrong, but I still feel uneasy… I’ll go rest for a while… Try not to bother me unless it’s important…”
She felt stifled.
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Wang Chenghao awoke to a flurry of slaps from Qin Ye.
Blinking, he ignored the burning on his cheeks, staring around in shock. “Did I… Did I just see my dad? Why would he be here?”
He hugged himself like a frightened rabbit, his voice trembling. “What’s happening… Qin Ye… Please… I’m begging you… Tell me… I’m losing my mind!”
Qin Ye pinched his cheeks, forcing him to look up, locking eyes with Wang Chenghao’s evasive gaze. “Your father’s been dead for a long time. Your mother is probably possessed by a ghost. If I’m right, you’re the only living person in your family.”
Wang Chenghao’s mouth dropped open in disbelief; he blinked several times, his whole body shuddering.
A terror that chilled him from head to toe made his hands and feet go numb.
How could this be…? After living together for so long, was he… was he really living among corpses?!
What on earth has the world become?
Qin Ye missed none of Wang Chenghao’s expressions, and only when tears welled up in the other’s eyes did he finally smile. “Do you want to live?”
Wang Chenghao nodded desperately. For some reason, he found Qin Ye terrifying right now. Though he was smiling, he was frightening enough to make Wang Chenghao believe him completely.
“Tsk, tsk, tsk… Look at you. Where’s all that bravado you used to have at school? Chin up, chest out, stand up.” Qin Ye slapped his shoulder hard. “If you want to live, fight for it with your own hands!”
Wang Chenghao gritted his teeth. Yes… No one is obligated to do anything for me. Begging… always begging. After so long, it’s better to rely on myself!
Qin Ye withdrew his hand with a benevolent look. “After you struggle, you’ll find it’s all pointless anyway.”
Wang Chenghao’s face twisted instantly.
His mouth opened as if to speak, then he felt like he’d eaten… excrement… Why did it taste sweet?
Qin Ye’s smile vanished. He grew solemn. “If you want to survive, the first thing you need to do is go to your father’s office. There should be a safe there. The code is 200086. Inside, there’s a stone. Bring it to me.”
“Okay… I’ll go back in the morning… okay, okay, okay…” Wang Chenghao’s teeth chattered rhythmically. Instinctively, he avoided Qin Ye’s dangerous gaze, instead looking down at his own legs. “Ha… Why are my legs shaking? I’m not scared… Not scared…”
“Good. Don’t be afraid. Don’t worry, boys who aren’t afraid have good luck. Because all the unlucky ones are already dead.” Qin Ye patted his shoulder. “It’s too dangerous to go back at night. Stay here tonight.”
Wang Chenghao clutched his chest and nodded, wrapping himself tightly in his blanket, trembling as he finally drifted into sleep.
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At seven the next morning, Wang Chenghao left Funeral Street with a pallid face. The last lamp above his head, even in the new morning sunlight, flickered as if it might go out at any moment.
Qin Ye paid him no mind. Instead, he turned on his computer and began searching the forums for clues about the Haiyue incident five years ago. Though a long time had passed, there should still be some traces left.
He opened Tianya Community, typed in the keyword “Haiyue,” and in no time, hundreds of posts appeared.
“You actually have a membership?” Arthas was surprised.
“Of course… After so long in human society, I have all the memberships you can think of.” Qin Ye clicked on a post with thousands of replies, the author’s username was “A Night of Wind, Flowers, Snow, and Moon.”
This must be the original post for this incident.
It was the beginning of everything.
Arthas had once said that the number one iron rule for underworld envoys in the world of the living was that, no matter how bizarre the situation, it could never escape the obsession the ghost had in life. Ghosts instinctively repeat their obsessions. These details could very well be the key to exorcising this spirit.
Even though he was already stealthily advancing, he knew to prepare for all possibilities. After living so long, he understood that you could never let yourself be caught off guard.
He scrolled through the comments. The situation was just as he remembered.
“OP, can you spare us? There must be at least a hundred attention-seeking stories like this every day. Can you come up with something new? You’re just wasting your dad’s brain cells.” —User 029344.
“Heh, no license, no proof. OP says the boss took a liking to her—who do you think you are, Dilraba or Tianbao?” —Huaguo Conan.
“Even if it’s true, OP is just a scheming b*tch. Wants to marry up and become a phoenix? Now that you’ve lost your reputation, you come here to seek sympathy? Get lost!” —World-Weary Cynic.
Verbal abuse is like an invisible chisel, spoken from thin lips but carving deep into others’ hearts. Qin Ye calmly scrolled on, until he reached a series of dozens of images. He stopped.
“What is it?”
“Strange…” Qin Ye stared at the images with increasing gravity. “These should originally have been animated gifs of a man and a woman fighting, and they should have been deleted long ago—that was ‘A Night of Wind, Flowers, Snow, and Moon’s’ counterattack. Once those images were posted, the incident peaked, but… why are they still here?”
Instead of those fight gifs, there were only… photos of an office!
This was President Wang’s office.
They were taken at night, the lights blazing, but not a soul in sight. Every shot was from the same angle. It was as if an invisible pair of eyes watched this place every night in silence.
“Look here.” Arthas spoke suddenly. Following her direction, Qin Ye spotted it—behind President Wang, reflected in the glass window under the flickering light, stood a woman with her arms at her sides, hair disheveled, beneath the glow.
The photo’s angle and lighting were poor; you’d never notice unless you looked closely. The woman wore a black dress, blending almost seamlessly into the night! Only a single blood-red eye could be vaguely seen, glaring at President Wang’s chair through her tangled hair.
A ghostly photo!
These weren’t taken by any human, but by the vengeful ghost herself… seen through her own eyes. Then… posted for all to see. And no one had noticed!
“When did this get changed?” Qin Ye was stunned, immediately checking the top of the post. It read plainly, “August 19th, 2025.”
“Ten days ago.”
This was “A Night of Wind, Flowers, Snow, and Moon’s” post. She had posted these photos, which meant… a woman who died five years ago edited her own post ten days ago. And… for nearly ten days, she’d been silently watching President Wang from the shadows!
Qin Ye’s eyes blazed. He immediately turned to the first page and began reading.
“Find anything?”
“Yes.” Qin Ye’s gaze brightened, pointing at the reply count on the screen. “My only virtue is a good memory. If I’m not mistaken… this post had 8,472 replies before I opened it, right?”
“8,472 replies—this was the count before I opened the post. But now… look.”
8,473!
The moment he opened this sunken thread… something—something not necessarily human—had posted a reply.
According to forum rules, any reply pushes the post to the front page; that’s what “bumping” means.
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But this post hadn’t moved.
He took a deep breath, quickly scrolling to the last page. Upon opening it, he found seven consecutive posts, the text as red as blood, all signed—
A Night of Wind, Flowers, Snow, and Moon!
A woman who had died five years ago!
“I… am back…”
“I didn’t lie…”
“I caught him…”
“Tonight…”
And the last post—just seconds ago.
“I know… you’re watching…”
It was daytime now.
Funeral Street in daylight.
Sunlight filtered through the funeral shop, shining on the pale paper effigies, horses, firecrackers, and incense. It was as if a layer of white mist hung over everything. Though it was midday, the room had suddenly grown quiet, filled with a chilling, bone-deep cold.
“Not bad at all.” Arthas paused, then smiled. “She’s got spirit. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen a soul dare to challenge an underworld envoy. Oh… right, given how long she’s been a vengeful ghost, she probably has no idea what the Underworld is. Only century-old specters still show any respect for it these days, I suppose?”
Qin Ye was also surprised. Having actually been to the Underworld, he knew just how terrifying a place it was. Even someone like Arthas, a former provincial governor, could only eke out an existence in its outermost cracks, while the Six Ghost Kings could obliterate a provincial-level official in an instant. Not to mention the Ten Judges of Hell above, and at the very top, King Yama himself.
No… even Old Lady Meng was enough to make a person tremble at the mere sight.
How much nerve did it take to provoke a national institution?
Ridiculous!
Qin Ye’s fingers flew over the keyboard. “You’ve probably never heard of me, so I’ll give you a chance to surrender. Tonight at twelve, when the moon hangs on the willow’s tip, let’s meet after dusk—how about it?”
No answer.
It was as if the other side of the computer was stunned as well.
Something felt off…
Seconds later, another line of blood-red words appeared: “Check your phone.”
No sooner had the words appeared than Qin Ye’s cell phone began to ring madly.
He didn’t answer immediately, but glanced at the old clock hanging in the funeral shop. “It’s midnight.”
Arthas understood instantly.
Something had happened.
Five hours, and not a single missed call. Given Wang Chenghao’s terrified state, he’d have called the moment he finished. But there’d been nothing…
Qin Ye sighed. “Looks like his luck wasn’t so good. Could he be dead?”
Arthas snorted. “Not to underestimate this ghost, but to kill someone in broad daylight—even I had to be wary when I was alive. With just that?”