Chapter 25: The Ghost Artisan’s Test

"Sit." He settled himself at the center of the square wooden table, lifting his chin toward the seats on either side. Yet both the plump woman and Huang Sanhe shook their heads in terrified unison, neither daring to move.

What a joke.

This chilling, oppressive aura was more terrifying than anything they had ever encountered in their dealings with the supernatural! How could they possibly sit, when sitting would only hinder their ability to bolt at a moment's notice? Not that escape was likely to succeed anyway.

Qin Ye didn't insist. "There are two things. First, why are you here? As far as I know, Qingxi County can't afford your rates. Don't tell me you're here for the money."

The woman and Huang Sanhe exchanged glances, both exhaling in inexplicable relief.

This wasn't a vengeful spirit.

Money, rates—such mundane words. A true ghost, at the very least, would be out of step with the times by centuries and could never speak so fluently. It was a feeling, and those who made their living off the dead were keenly attuned to such nuances.

But realization brought no comfort. If he wasn't a ghost, then what was he? Was it possible for a human to possess such a terrifying aura? It was almost akin to the legendary reapers of the underworld, reborn in the flesh.

"Zhou Lingling, heir to the corpse-bearers of the Zhou family from Bashu, at your service." Suppressing her dread, the plump woman offered a respectful bow. "Sir... the ghost market... has moved to Qingxi County."

Just as he suspected.

Beneath the conical hat, Qin Ye's gaze sharpened. "Who's in charge?"

"The government." To his surprise, the answer left him momentarily speechless. "In the past, the ghost market was always overseen by enlightened monks or Taoist temples. But half a year ago, a department called the Special Investigations Unit took over everything. And... they know everything about us—where we've worked, every penny we've earned from the dead, since the day we were born."

Zhou Lingling added, "From that point on, every transaction connected to the world of spirits had to be registered, from major cities down to tiny villages. Anyone traveling between markets had to be verified before entry. The ghost market opens every six months, and the location is chosen by the Special Investigations Unit. Just two days ago, we were notified that the next market would be held in Qingxi County."

A sweep.

Qin Ye and Arthas remained silent. It was clear—this was an investigation, and the first step was to start with those who profited from the dead.

"Verification?" Qin Ye raised an eyebrow.

"Yes... this." Without a trace of concealment, Zhou Lingling quickly produced something resembling a magnetic card and placed it on the table.

Qin Ye picked it up and almost cursed aloud.

"What's this?" Arthas asked with interest, eyeing the card—two inches wide, one inch long. On the left was a photo of Huang Lingling, on the right the national emblem, and at the bottom, a line of text: National E-Class Registered Corpse-Bearer, certified by the West Sichuan Division.

"An ID card," Qin Ye replied through gritted teeth, memories flooding back. "The most anti-human design in history..."

Arthas understood instantly.

"Ah... I see. For someone like you, ageless and undying, forever lurking in the human world, having to constantly update your ID must be such a burden..."

Qin Ye was fuming. Even with the current ID system, things were complicated enough. Now even corpse-bearers—freelancers in the truest sense—were required to carry ID cards. How was a ghost supposed to survive at all?

Was it so easy to hide one's achievements and name?

"Second matter," he said, stifling his anger. "Recently... has any corpse-bearer taken on a job?"

Both Zhou Lingling and Huang Sanhe were momentarily stunned before shaking their heads. "Not that we've heard of."

Before Qin Ye could say more, Huang Sanhe spoke up shrewdly: "Sir, we're just ordinary E-class corpse-bearers. There's no way we'd know about others' business. But there's one man who certainly would."

Qin Ye, quick as ever, asked, "Where is he?"

"In two days, he'll be arriving from Rong City to Qingxi County."

Qin Ye stood up. "You have soul-calming incense, don't you? Need me to light it for you?"

Of course not.

The two respectfully produced a stick of incense each and lit them themselves, then closed their eyes in silence.

Qin Ye didn't leave until twenty minutes later, when the incense had burned down and both of them were completely unconscious.

Outside, the night wind persisted. He sighed softly. "This is getting complicated."

"Indeed," Arthas agreed, troubled. "The simplest way to get in is to register as a corpse-bearer right away. But if you do, you'll immediately be linked to what happened with Haiyue last night. If you don't register... you probably won't even get in."

"There is another way, but it's too crude for my taste," Qin Ye said coolly.

"Go straight to the organizer?"

Qin Ye nodded. "Exactly. Get the information from him directly—end of story."

...

A plane streaked through the night, cutting a glowing path across the thick clouds.

A young man yawned, bored out of his mind. A flight at two in the morning—if not for the cheap fare, he never would have boarded.

The cabin was quiet. He liked a window seat; gazing out at the clouds and the scattered city lights below gave him a rare sense of elevation and joy.

Unfortunately, even at night, all the window seats in his row were taken. Worse yet was the man sitting next to him.

This was an odd fellow.

Though it was only early autumn, the man was bundled up in a thick black coat, even wearing a baseball cap, black mask, black sunglasses, and a black scarf, all indoors.

From the time they boarded, the young man hadn't heard him say a single word, not even to the flight attendant—just a silent shake of the head when asked about drinks.

Stranger still, the man had bought two tickets.

He carried a suitcase, but instead of putting it in the overhead compartment, he kept it in the seat beside him. When the flight attendant asked, he showed her both tickets.

A weirdo.

The most infuriating part: the first thing this man did after sitting down was shut the window shade. For someone who loved the sky, this was maddening.

"Damn it..." As the plane took off and everyone settled in, the young man, bored to tears, pulled out his gaming console. The flight from Spring City to Rong City would take just an hour and forty minutes.

Half an hour later, he yawned and stretched, glancing around restlessly.

Everyone was asleep. The cabin lights were dim. With sharp eyesight, he scanned the rows for any attractive women, but, disappointed, turned his gaze to the window across the aisle.

Unbelievable... To buy a window seat and keep the shade down—what kind of lunacy was this?

If you don't want to look, I still do...

He glanced at the opposite window a few times; pitch black, no sense of soaring above the clouds at all. Sullen, he withdrew his gaze—then suddenly paused, blinking, and stared again.

He looked closely, without blinking.

A few seconds later, his body began to tremble. Cold sweat poured down his forehead, his teeth started chattering uncontrollably, and he inched away in his seat.

At that moment, he bitterly cursed his excellent vision.

There was no one there...

The reflection in the window opposite—where the strange man should have been—showed only clothing. No person at all.

A dim corridor. A silent cabin. Thousands of meters above the earth, at two in the morning—he was alone with... something unknown.

A hand rested gently on his shoulder. A rasping voice broke the silence: "You seem... unwell?"

"Ah!!" The young man gasped, so sharply that it only drew a few annoyed tosses from nearby passengers. The man beside him, hand still on his shoulder, had finally spoken.

"N-no, not at all..." The young man's face was deathly pale, his voice trembling.

Even the man's hand, beneath his coat, was gloved.

"Would you like me... to take a look?" His speech came in strange, halting bursts.

"No! No need!" The young man shot to his feet, only to be pulled back down into his seat.

"Do you know... what kind of doctor I am...?" The man's voice grew ever more hoarse, and the young man felt as though frozen in an ice cellar, his teeth chattering, unable to resist replying, "W-what kind?"

The man seemed to smile, pulling down his sunglasses. "I specialize in the living..."

A drowsy passenger in the row behind seemed to glimpse movement in the seats ahead, grumbled in annoyance, nudged with a knee, and closed his eyes again.

An hour later, the plane landed punctually at Rong City Airport. The man with the suitcase strode down the jetway and immediately switched on his phone.

"It's me... I've arrived. Are you sure this line is secure?"

"Heh... Decades without seeing the light of day... No more Red Guards running amok, I suppose..."

"Understood... I'm heading to Qingxi County now. Don't worry, I'll recover the fragments of the Yama Seal. No one can touch Your Highness's belongings... no matter who they are. Don't worry about me—the underworld should be long gone. Unless the patriarchs of the three great Taoist sects act personally, there's no way these laughable low-level cultivators from the Special Investigations Unit can stop me..."

"Yes... understood. Whoever has touched the Yama Seal fragments, I'll bring back their corpse... That's all. Hanging up... It's been so long since I spoke, I'm still not used to it..."

His leather shoes clicked briskly away from the plane. Meanwhile, a flight attendant tidying up the cabin noticed a young man sitting motionless, eyes closed, face ashen.

"Do you need any assistance?" she asked with a gentle smile.

No response.

"Sir..." She began her second sentence, but her smile froze.

The young man's chest wasn't moving.

Nor was his breath.

With trembling fingers, she reached out to check under his nose. The instant she touched him, his whole body collapsed, withering instantly to a shriveled human skin.

"Aaaaahhhhh!"

A piercing scream echoed through the airport.

Twenty minutes later, armed police surrounded the terminal, led by a lieutenant colonel. His face was dark as he boarded the plane, then quickly disembarked.

"Seal off the area. Check the passenger list immediately! Also..."

He took a deep breath, eyes blazing. "Notify the Special Investigations Unit—a Class D supernatural incident... And the supernatural alert line wasn't even triggered."

"This is no friendly visitor... I'm afraid it's more dangerous than seventy percent of all current supernatural cases!"