Chapter Forty-Three: Lawlessness

Although the Fat Man was a ghost, the bamboo knife in Wang Feiyang’s hand had long been used for splitting bamboo and making paper figures; it worked just as well on spirits. With one slash, a jet of blood spurted from the Fat Man’s face, and he let out a scream like a pig being slaughtered.

His burly henchmen instantly charged at Wang Feiyang. Luli and I didn’t hesitate and dashed forward as well. I bit open my left middle finger and hastily drew a Thunder Sigil in my right palm before slamming it toward one of the brutes. With a sickening thud, he let out a miserable cry and was flung backward through the air.

At the same time, Luli recited several incantations without pause, quickly laying two more men flat. Wang Feiyang struck down another with his bamboo knife.

As we fought fiercely, the sound of hooves suddenly rang out nearby. A troop of ghostly soldiers in black armor rode toward us on fine steeds, their entire bearing exuding domineering arrogance. They cared nothing for the spirits around them; those who failed to get out of the way were trampled underfoot, yet the soldiers didn’t spare them a glance.

The squad of ghostly soldiers finally reined in their horses before us, their cold, condescending eyes scanning our group. They dismounted, each wielding an iron whip that exuded a chilling aura. Without a word, they lashed out at us.

The iron whips were terrifyingly powerful. One of the brutes was struck, and in an instant, only half of his body remained. Wang Feiyang, Luli, and I retreated in haste; a blow from those whips would cripple, if not kill, us outright.

In that split second, it was as if I glimpsed the chaotic end of an ancient dynasty—local tyrants and powerful families bullying the weak, while imperial soldiers regarded human life as worthless.

“Sir, please stop! It’s me, Master Zhang!” The Fat Man, his face still bleeding, ignored his pain and crawled desperately toward the ghostly soldiers.

The leader frowned, evidently not recognizing this Master Zhang. Only when the man produced a stack of ghost money and pressed it into the soldier’s hand did the frown ease. The leader nodded perfunctorily and asked what was going on.

The Fat Man glared at us with venom, his voice thick with grievance. “That ugly woman comes here every day, spreading malicious rumors about the city lord. She’s stirred up all the spirits with her slander. I couldn’t stand it and tried to stop her, but these people sided with her and attacked us!”

“Is that so?” The ghostly soldier’s brow furrowed. He didn’t bother hearing our side, simply cracked his whip toward me, intent on killing without regard for right or wrong, bought off as he was.

I had no time to react—the whip was already descending on my head. Just as I thought I would be annihilated, a figure suddenly stepped in front of me.

With a sharp crack, the whip struck the figure hard. The next moment, the woman with the pipa was flung toward me like a broken kite.

Shocked, I hurried to catch her. Half her body was torn open, flesh ripped apart, and her white gauze dress was now stained crimson. Her eyes began to glaze, and pain twisted her scarred face.

“Are… are you alright?” My voice trembled uncontrollably.

“In life, I was not an improper woman… Do you… do you believe me?”

“I believe you!” I nodded firmly.

“There were evil men who raped me, stabbed me more than seventy times, and left my body exposed in the wilderness…” The woman’s expression grew even more agonized. “After death, I became a vengeful spirit, seeking them for revenge. By chance, I met a monk who gave me this pipa, taught me the Esoteric Melodies of Ksitigarbha, and brought me to the City of Unjust Deaths. He told me that in this world, true kindness still exists!”

“Stop… you mustn’t speak anymore!”

I don’t know why, but my heart ached unbearably. I knew she was fading, and every word she spoke seemed to pierce the softest part of me like a needle.

“Thank… thank you. You’ve shown me that this world is not as heartless as I once thought.” With those words, her body turned translucent before me, until her soul was scattered and gone.

I watched her vanish, looked at the indifferent faces of the surrounding spirits, the arrogant demeanor of the ghostly soldiers, the Fat Man’s hateful, venomous expression, and grief welled up. I no longer understood this world. The mortal realm was already a miasma of corruption, but the underworld… was even crueler.

The ghostly soldier felt no shame for obliterating the pipa woman, as if he’d crushed an ant. He raised his whip to strike us again, but at that dire moment, a voice rang out from the crowd: “Enough!”

An elderly man in his sixties stepped forward, dressed in a black Tang suit, upright and unhurried, as he approached the ghostly soldiers.

“Sir, these three are my nephews. They’ve just entered the City of Unjust Deaths and are ignorant of the rules. Please be merciful.”

The soldier gave the old man a look, and a faint smile crept onto his sullen face. “So it’s you, Elder Wang.”

The old man nodded with a smile. “Sir, could you spare them for my sake?”

The sudden appearance of this elder threw us into confusion. The three of us exchanged glances, unable to fathom his identity—why would he help us when we were complete strangers?

As we puzzled over this, the lead ghostly soldier frowned and said, “Elder Wang, these three have caused public disorder, slandered the city lord, and committed a grave offense. It’s not that we refuse you, but we’re powerless to help.”

The old man showed no anger, only smiled. “Sir, your horse travels three hundred li a day—a fine steed. But I happen to have a blood-sweating stallion that can cover a thousand li in a day.”

Upon hearing this, the ghostly soldier’s brow relaxed. He pondered, then said, “Perhaps their offense is not unforgivable. The city lord is magnanimous; even if he hears of this, he won’t demand their lives.”

The Fat Man, sensing the shift, tried to tug at the soldier’s sleeve and muttered, “Sir, I paid you…”

The soldier glared at him, and the Fat Man dared not utter another word. The old man laughed heartily and clapped his hands. Two men emerged from the crowd, each carrying a chest. When opened, they revealed gleaming silver ingots.

The ghostly soldier laughed and accepted the two chests without ceremony. Mounting up, the troop prepared to leave, reminding the elder not to forget the promised stallion.

The old man nodded, smiling, and said, “Thank you for your leniency. The horse will be delivered to your residence tomorrow.”

The ghostly soldiers rode off, still as arrogant as before, trampling over any spirits in their path.

Once they were gone, the Fat Man tried to slip away. Wang Feiyang and I rushed him simultaneously; I struck him in the back with a Thunder Sigil, sending him flying several meters. He tried to beg for mercy, but Wang Feiyang’s bamboo knife fell, scattering his soul completely.

The old man watched us dispatch the Fat Man without intervening. Only when we were finished did he turn to us solemnly and ask, “Are you satisfied now?”

None of us answered; our faces were grim. The old man continued, “This City of Unjust Deaths is not like the world of the living—there is no law here.”

“Elder, just now the pipa woman sacrificed herself, using the Esoteric Melodies of Ksitigarbha to cleanse the resentment of these spirits. She performed a great deed, yet ended up destroyed—how chilling that is.” Luli cupped his hands. “I am Luli of Mount Shu. Thank you for saving us.”

The old man studied Luli, frowning. “Which dynasty are you from?”

Luli was stunned. Wang Feiyang and I sighed. I quickly explained, “Elder, our brother’s a bit slow. Don’t mind him.”

The old man said nothing more, but turned and walked into a dark alley, saying, “This place is dangerous. Follow me.”

We didn’t hesitate. Had this elder meant us harm, he would not have helped us before. So we followed him without question.

After entering the alley, the old man stopped, turned, and looked at us sternly. “You three are bold indeed—living souls daring to enter the City of Unjust Deaths!”

My heart lurched. He had seen through our identities, though our passage talismans should have masked all signs of life, even from ghostly soldiers. How had he known?

As I was lost in confusion, Wang Feiyang, who had been silent the whole time, suddenly dropped to his knees before the old man and cried, “Grandfather!”