DT |Chapter 13: Xiyi Three

“Young man, I’ve seen you wandering here for quite a while. Are you lost?” A frail voice came from behind Sheng Feng. He turned around to see an elderly woman pulling a wooden cart, dressed simply, standing right behind him. Her face was kind, and the cart she pulled was covered with a deep red cloth, hiding its contents. Sheng Feng mimicked the ancient style of greeting and tentatively asked, “Granny, it’s so late. Where are you going with this cart?” The old woman didn’t find Sheng Feng’s question offensive; instead, she appeared quite sincere. She lifted the tattered cloth on her cart, revealing an array of exquisite pastries neatly arranged inside. “I’m heading out of town to do some small business. I’m traveling tonight so I can sell these pastries tomorrow.” The old woman’s words were very earnest. Sheng Feng had been wandering alone on this ghost-filled street for hours, feeling anxious and impatient. Without thinking much about the old woman’s words, he hurriedly asked, “Do you know how to get out of the city? I’m a bit lost. Could you take me out of the city?” “Sure, follow me. We should reach the city gate after a bit more walking,” the old woman agreed happily, struggling to pull the cart as she led the way. “Let me help you,” Sheng Feng offered, running to the back of the cart to push it. The cart, filled with pastries, was surprisingly heavy. Sheng Feng initially suspected the wood used to make the cart was too dense, but after about ten minutes, he realized something was off. He noticed the wood was severely decayed, which shouldn’t make it so heavy. By the time Sheng Feng came to his senses, he and the old woman had entered a thick fog, similar to the scene when he arrived. The old woman stopped slowly, holding a lantern in one hand. “Young man, let’s rest for a while. The city gate is just ahead,” the old woman said, lifting the cloth on the cart to reveal the delicate pastries inside. “Young man, you must be hungry. Would you like to try my pastries?” Sheng Feng carefully examined the pastries and looked at the old woman’s kind face under the dim candlelight. Nothing seemed amiss, and he began to doubt if he was being overly suspicious. Seeing Sheng Feng remain silent, the old woman quietly picked up a plate of pastries and ate them herself, with nothing happening. Sheng Feng’s stomach had been protesting for a while, so he finally let his guard down, reaching for a small plate of pastries from the cart, ready to eat. Almost instantly, a hand shot out from the fog, swiftly knocking the plate from Sheng Feng’s hand. The plate fell to the ground, scattering pastries everywhere, and shards of porcelain flew. At the same time, the lantern in the old woman’s hand went out with a “pop,” and the light vanished instantly. Not far away, another candle flared up, and as the light approached, Sheng Feng finally saw the face of the newcomer. It was Shen Yan, who had left him behind. Shen Yan had clearly lost his previous arrogance. He was out of breath, his chest heaving, and his face full of urgency. “Why did you just follow someone so casually? Do you know anything about her? How could you just go with her?” Sheng Feng, frustrated and with nowhere to vent his anger, retorted, “You’re blaming me?! Who left me there alone? Do you know I waited from morning till night, thinking you wouldn’t come back! And now you have the nerve to scold me.” Shen Yan was at a loss for words, knowing he was in the wrong and unable to find a reason to argue back. Seeing Shen Yan fall silent, Sheng Feng felt much better. He looked down at the cart beside him and was stunned. Where were the exquisite pastries? The cart was filled with stacks of paper money and folded gold ingots, all placed in plates as if waiting for someone to enjoy. “This is a type of lost ghost, also known as a ghost pastry granny, who lures lost people at night and persuades them to eat the pastries,” Shen Yan explained, raising the corpse candle in his hand. “Do you know, if you had eaten her pastries just now, you would have been trapped here forever, and no matter how powerful I am, I wouldn’t have been able to find you.” For the first time, Shen Yan spoke so seriously, and Sheng Feng immediately sensed the gravity of the situation, feeling a wave of fear. With the light from Shen Yan’s candle, the surrounding fog dissipated significantly. Sheng Feng followed Shen Yan and realized he had been going in the wrong direction with the ghost pastry granny. Shen Yan, familiar with the way, led him out of the fog in just ten minutes. “I’ll send you back tomorrow morning. The nearest passage to National Security Group 7 is closed now,” Shen Yan said, looking like a drenched rat, still listless even after returning to the palace. Sheng Feng sensed the change in his mood and asked, “Did you interrogate the corpse slave? Didn’t you get any useful information?” Shen Yan, facing a table of delicious dishes he had ordered, couldn’t muster any enthusiasm. He couldn’t even meet Sheng Feng’s gaze, his eyes wandering as he mumbled in a low voice, “…The corpse slave is dead.” “What? What did you just say? I didn’t hear you. Say it again.” “The corpse slave!” Shen Yan shouted, then his voice dropped again, “Dead… dead.” Sheng Feng was momentarily stunned, staring blankly at Shen Yan. He couldn’t believe that in just one afternoon, after only seeing the corpse slave once, he had died suddenly. Murder? Suicide? Biting his tongue? “I… I couldn’t control myself. My grip… my grip was too strong, and he… died…” Shen Yan’s explanation seemed weak and unconvincing to Sheng Feng. “Really? Are you trying to trick me into thinking the corpse slave is dead because you don’t want me to take him back?” From Sheng Feng’s limited understanding, although Shen Yan wasn’t the calmest person, he wasn’t impulsive enough to kill the corpse slave so easily. If the corpse slave was indeed killed by Shen Yan, there were only two reasons. First, the corpse slave confessed something that enraged Shen Yan, prompting him to kill immediately. Second, the corpse slave was about to confess something Shen Yan was extremely unwilling to hear. Shen Yan rolled his eyes dramatically, “Why would I lie to you? He’s already buried. If you don’t believe me, I can have him dug up for you to see.” As he spoke, he was about to call someone, and Sheng Feng, who was enjoying his meal, almost spat out his food at the thought of digging up a corpse. He quickly stopped him, “Alright, alright, I believe you. Can we eat without looking at a corpse?” Shen Yan, feeling frustrated, briefly recounted the corpse slave’s ramblings in the water prison. Some details were almost glossed over, which Sheng Feng felt was intentional on Shen Yan’s part. “Earlier, I saw him wandering around the market with a strong sense of purpose, so I didn’t let you catch him at the time. I wanted to see what he was looking for,” Sheng Feng said, putting down his chopsticks and adjusting the cushion beneath him. This ancient way of sitting made him uncomfortable. Sheng Feng had many questions, while Shen Yan only wanted to retrieve his stolen waist knife. The corpse slave likely had no intention of revealing the whereabouts of the waist knife before his death. “I killed him. I’ll handle things with the Underworld. You can officially arrest He Bin tomorrow and close the case. The jade gourd necklace should contain what the Taoist stole,” Shen Yan said, pouring himself a drink, his brow furrowed. The corpse slave was dead, the Taoist lost his life for money, and Hong Dechang also died for greed. But Sheng Feng felt they had only seen the tip of the iceberg. Why did the corpse slave defect, steal Shen Yan’s waist knife, and seek Chu Xiao’s help to cause trouble in the human world? Was it just because Hong Dechang happened to open the nineteen coffins, and Chu Xiao wanted revenge? Sheng Feng’s thoughts became chaotic again, and he asked, “Why did the corpse slave steal your waist knife? Can you guess the reason?” Shen Yan downed a cup of wine and said nonchalantly, “I don’t know why he stole it, but he was the only one who knew the origin of that knife.” “What origin?” Shen Yan took a deep breath, “The knife was made from my own two ribs, but I can’t remember how I removed those ribs from my body. I’ve carried them with me since I lost my memory.” “I knew the corpse slave before I became the Ghost King. He always took care of me, like a big brother. Later, when I led people to massacre the Xiyi Realm and became the Ghost King, he was my right-hand man.” Shen Yan spoke slowly, as if recalling the bloody slaughter from centuries ago. Weapons. Iron crossbows. A blood-red sky. Until someone brought the Ghost King’s head and tore his body apart, everything finally returned to peace. “Until one day, he suggested I annex the Nugu Realm a hundred miles away. After I refused, he began to dabble in some shady practices, gradually becoming a person who couldn’t see the light of day. The rift between us grew larger.” “Did he tell you about your past life?” Sheng Feng asked. Shen Yan nodded, holding his drink and swaying slightly, “He met me after being expelled from the Xiyi Realm, claiming to know my parents in my past life. Now it seems he probably tricked me into helping him invade the Xiyi Realm for revenge because he saw I knew some martial arts.” “Apart from a name, I can’t remember anything.” Sheng Feng had encountered many ghosts, most of whom harbored deep resentment for their past lives, while others had long reincarnated without lingering attachments. But it was the first time he had seen someone like Shen Yan, who had lingered in the human world for years without knowing why. “Then… if you had the chance, would you want to reincarnate?” Sheng Feng sat up straight. The Xiyi Realm had no cicadas or birds, and both inside and outside the palace were lifeless. This topic made the atmosphere even more oppressive. Shen Yan remained silent for a long time before finally looking at Sheng Feng, pulling up a faint smile, and saying, “If possible, what ghost wouldn’t want to reincarnate?”