Chapter 95: The Departed and the Present
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Fengdu Ghost City, formerly known as Fengdu Ghost City, was originally called “Bazi Biedu.” Established as a county in the second year of Emperor He of the Eastern Han Dynasty’s Yongyuan era, it boasts a nearly 2,000-year history. Situated on the northern bank of the Yangtze River in Fengdu County, it is also referred to as the “Netherworld Capital,” “Ghost Kingdom’s Imperial City,” and “Land of Divine Melodies of the Chinese Nation.”
With the construction of the Three Gorges Dam, part of it has already been submerged underwater. At this moment, amid a muffled rumbling sound, beneath the surface, rows of corridor columns and houses seem to be silently drawn by some invisible force, collapsing all at once.
Countless massive stones fall silently. If one possessed the ability to see spirits, they would witness beneath the water’s surface countless shades—numbering not in the tens of thousands but hundreds of thousands—gathered densely around Fengdu City.
They seem to be waiting for something, growing increasingly restless; some spirits already show signs of becoming vengeful ghosts. Yet suddenly, they all pause.
Simultaneously, they lift their heads and look eastward.
Their movements are synchronized and silent, as they sense something.
The next moment, they erupt wildly into flight, all rushing toward Bao’an City!
The Underworld summons souls; none dare disobey!
Atop the Three Gorges Dam, behind roar the surging river waters, flanked by endless green mountains. The massive drop causes a spectacular tsunami to burst forth from the opening below. Yet the river behind remains calm and clear, its blue as pure as the ocean, evoking a maritime ambiance.
A Taoist priest sits solemnly at the center of the dam, at the spot colloquially known as the “Dragon’s Mouth.”
The wind howls fiercely atop the dam, and the monkeys on both banks keep crying out, yet he has never opened his eyes.
“Do you think he’s a stone?” an employee at the work station asks doubtfully, looking at the priest’s figure. “For ten years, eating only once a month, drinking a barrel of water, just sitting there—someone unaware might think he’s suppressing something.”
Before the words finish, the priest suddenly opens his eyes.
“What is this...” A trace of profound shock appears on his otherwise calm face. He rushes to the edge of the dam: “This... how is this possible?!”
Boom! To ordinary eyes, the sky darkens and the earth changes color. In less than ten seconds, dark clouds blanket the heavens and thunder roars.
But to his eyes... those are no mere clouds, but countless ghosts crossing the entire dam! Screaming, they fly over his head!
So many. Too many! Countless! At least a million! No... even more!
Like a thousand birds taking flight, these spirits form a terrifying dark cloud, blotting out the sun and sky!
For several tens of minutes, the black cloud of spirits slowly dissipates. At the same time, a chorus of exclamations rises:
“Look! What’s that?”
“Oh my god... no way... how could there be so many?”
“Has the gate to the Fengdu Ghost City opened?”
He immediately looks down.
In the raging river below, countless decayed coffins float to the surface.
No one knows how many—so many they fill the entire Yangtze River!
“Clatter...” At the same time, in a villa, an elderly man dressed in embroidered silk robes holds a cup of tea. Suddenly, his hand trembles, and the cup shatters on the floor.
“This feeling...” He immediately rises and looks out the window: “How could this be...”
“Why do I suddenly feel a sense of heart-palpitation...”
“It’s just like... when I first arrived in the Underworld thousands of years ago...”
…
Hui Da, the stronghold of Cao Youdao.
Time ticks by as Qin Ye lies beside a pit. His dark spirit attire is tattered, and layers of yin energy swirl around him. His muscles twitch involuntarily, but his eyes remain closed.
“Hah...” After an unknown interval, he suddenly sits up, drenched in cold sweat. Remembering something, he desperately looks toward the cave beneath.
“Xiao A?” he tries to call out. As soon as the words leave his mouth, pain radiates through his muscles. Still, he ignores it, staring intently at the cave.
No response.
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“Ahem...” He opens his mouth to call again but coughs violently, clutching his chest. Still hoarse, he calls out, “Arthas?”
Ssssss... In the depths of the cave, an echo seems to respond.
Still no reply.
“A’luo...” On the third attempt, before finishing the word, a faint light appears in the darkness below, shooting like a meteor.
The light reaches the ground but immediately loses all strength, rolling like a deflated ball.
Thud... Thud... The lonely sound echoes through the room. Qin Ye’s lips feel dry as he gently picks it up.
It is a Soul-Sealing Orb.
Covered with burn marks, the cloth once wrapped around the orb faintly shows intricate Sanskrit characters, now faded.
The moment Qin Ye touches the orb, it crumbles with a sandy sound, revealing charred emptiness inside.
No sign of Arthas’s spirit.
Nor any physical form.
As if nothing had ever existed within—just a void.
Qin Ye gazes at the orb in a daze, then sighs softly after a long while.
“Look at you...” He carefully folds the orb’s cloth strips, a complex smile playing on his lips. “Always courting death from the start...”
“You tried to assassinate the protagonist in the underworld. According to the protagonist’s rule of immortality, you should have died. Yet you survived, stayed with me for so long. I was ready to trust you. And then, in the end, you played the hero to save me? Trying to become my cherished scarlet mark? How naive, how naive...”
He slowly stows away the charred cloth, ignoring the blackened stains on his hands. His fingers are long and steady.
“I’ve always said... if you have something, bring it out early and give it to me. What use is hiding one trump card after another? In this world... the worst thing is for a person to die with money unspent.”
“See? The first half of your life was prosperous, the middle half turbulent, and the last half lonely and dependent on no one. A life full of hardships caused a loss of trust from a hellish maiden. You never told me how the underworld was constructed, never taught me its magic, living every day by quarreling with me... And now, I’m the one burying you...”
No matter how long, every thread has an end.
As he bundles the cloth into a ball, he shakes his head: “Don’t worry. Every year on this day, I’ll burn paper money for you...”
“A very concise summary of my life, isn’t it?” A chilling female voice comes from behind.
Qin Ye stiffens, then turns around in disbelief.
A’luo Chasha stands behind him—not a phantom, but fully corporeal.
This is the second time he’s seen her true form.
And the most recent.
She is beautiful.
When not in her judge’s guise, her beauty is heart-stirring: an oval face, skin like congealed cream, lips like rouge, almond-shaped eyes like autumn waters, and arched eyebrows reminiscent of distant mountains.
But now, she looks utterly disheveled.
Her face is unnaturally pale, countless black hairs flutter as if blown by an unseen wind, and her once multicolored robes now charred black. Her gaze is extremely hostile toward Qin Ye.
Not dead?
That’s... somewhat awkward.
Qin Ye looks at the Soul-Sealing Orb in his hand, then at Arthas, who was freed by Tiding’s blow, and silently begins wrapping the cloth strips around Arthas’s head.
“Good girl, it’s all illusions, all bubbles, just a fleeting firework...”
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Bang! As soon as he finishes one wrap, his body is suddenly slammed meters away by a tremendous force, then involuntarily flies back, directly facing Arthas’s white face, her pitch-black claws extended a centimeter.
“Cough... cough cough cough!!” Arthas coughs violently, yin energy dissipating with each cough. Seconds later, she says darkly, “Surprised? I was blessed by misfortune—I actually escaped from the Soul-Sealing Orb?”
Qin Ye forces a stiff smile in midair: “Well... maybe we had some little misunderstandings in the past...”
“Little misunderstandings?!” Arthas grabs Qin Ye’s ear and yanks fiercely, causing him to yelp in pain: “Don’t... please don’t! Calm down! The world is so beautiful, and you’re so irritable; that’s not good!”
“Xiao A?! Hmm?!” Arthas twists Qin Ye’s ear nearly 180 degrees, her usual tide of resentment surging forth.
“Lazy?! Hmm?! Salted fish? Hmm!! Coward?! Hmm!!”
“Arthas?! Hmm!!”
“Minas Tirith?! Hmm!!”
With a final harsh kick, she strikes Qin Ye’s backside, sending him flying elegantly three meters away.
“Hmph...” Arthas doesn’t look at him but trembles as she watches her own hand, then laughs uproariously: “Hahaha... Zzzzt!!”
Boom! A terrifying surge of yin energy suddenly erupts, solidifying visibly; the entire underground space trembles. Qin Ye groans softly, throat burning, struggling to suppress it.
Miscalculation...
How is she still alive?
Isn’t this a waste of effort?
Unexpectedly, Tiding’s blow shattered the Soul-Sealing Orb, releasing the former judge inside. Moreover, Arthas had behaved so innocently these past months Qin Ye nearly forgot her capricious nature.
Swish... Just after the yin energy burst, it eerily calms again, as fickle as Arthas herself.
The black cloud settles; she breathes in drunkenly and greedily, her voice trembling: “Out...”
“I’m finally out... hehe!!”
After laughing wildly for several seconds, she gently brushes back a lock of hair by her ear. Her breathtaking eyes sweep coldly over Qin Ye: “I told you before, our debts can never be fully settled in a single day...”
“Misunderstandings, all misunderstandings.” Qin Ye forces a dry laugh, but his hand lightly grips the knife’s hilt.
His movement cannot escape the judge’s eyes. Arthas sneers coldly. In an instant, Qin Ye’s ghostly blade flies ten meters away like an arrow, embedding itself in the wall with a thud.
Arthas steps before Qin Ye, her clawed black nails lightly lifting his chin.
“Such a petty soul restraint and yet you dare disrespect the judge. Tell me... how should I punish you?”
Sweat beads on Qin Ye’s forehead—he truly cannot predict this ghost’s mood.
Unstable as the weather.
“By the way, you’re quite good-looking,” Arthas smiles faintly, lips parting to reveal a scarlet tongue that licks Qin Ye’s cheek like a serpent.
“...Commander, this isn’t appropriate, is it? The living and the dead are worlds apart—we can have no future...” Qin Ye raises his hands, speaking softly.
“Afraid now?” Arthas smiles, her hand suddenly clutching his throat like a claw, her charred robes and black hair whipping in a gust, her face terrifyingly fierce: “When you call me ‘Xiao A’ and ‘Arthas’ all day long, how come you didn’t think of this day!!”