Chapter Forty-Four: Dying Once Each Day

"Grandpa?" The moment I heard those words, my mind exploded with a deafening buzz. I stared in disbelief at the elderly man before me, clad in a traditional Chinese jacket. Faint, fragmented memories began flashing through my mind, and suddenly, I remembered—among the scenes from twenty years ago, there was one man whose appearance was almost identical to this one.

He was Wang Bilin—Wang Feiyang’s grandfather.

Twenty years ago, Wang Bilin was only in his forties. Now, two decades later, having been imprisoned in the City of Wrongful Death all this time, his appearance had changed. Back then, he had been killed by the Taoist woman, an untimely death since his allotted lifespan had not yet ended. Consequently, after his death, he ended up in this very city.

Astonished, I hastily greeted him, "Grandpa Wang, it’s really you!"

Wang Bilin nodded, "Twenty years have passed, and you’ve both grown so much. But tell me, what brings you two to the City of Wrongful Death?"

Immediately, I recounted everything that had happened. After listening, Wang Bilin furrowed his brows. "Twenty years ago, the Taoist woman killed so many for the Nine Yin Fate. I never expected that, even now, she would break the Living Sacrifice formation again."

I hurriedly explained, "My grandfather is in her hands. She sent us here to retrieve a treasure from the City of Wrongful Death. If we don’t return with it within seven days, she’ll destroy my grandfather’s soul."

Wang Bilin quickly asked, "What kind of treasure?"

I shook my head. "I don’t know the specifics. She only said it’s a great seal, and that information about it is hidden in the Book of the Yellow Springs—some great secret. Since you’ve lived here for twenty years, have you heard of such a seal in this city?"

He shook his head. "Never heard of it."

My heart clenched with anxiety. "What should I do? She only gave me seven days. In this vast city, how can I possibly find such a seal?"

Wang Bilin was silent for a moment, then reassured me not to worry. He had some connections here and would send people to inquire about the seal.

He then led the three of us to his current residence. Much like in life, Wang Bilin now ran a paper-crafting shop in the City of Wrongful Death—much larger and busier than the one he had owned among the living.

Puzzled, I asked, "Grandpa Wang, people in the living world burn paper crafts for the dead. But now you’re making paper crafts here—in the underworld—who are they for?"

Wang Bilin smiled. "Paper crafts exist in both realms. Take ghost money, for example. Most of what the living burn is made with yang paper—it never reaches the underworld. Only the Wang family’s method of ‘Folding Paper into Soldiers’ can create yin money that truly passes into this realm and circulates. This secret art works in both worlds."

"Folding Paper into Soldiers? Is it like scattering beans to summon soldiers?" I asked, only half understanding, but I didn’t dwell on it. We entered the shop, and Wang Bilin arranged for us to rest while he had some food and wine prepared. After our meal, he would help us search for the seal.

Soon, a lavish meal was set before us. The food looked just like what we’d eat in the living world, but tasted bland and insipid—no flavor, almost as if it were made of paper.

Seeing our discomfort, Wang Bilin chuckled, "In the underworld, the dead feed on scents and aromas. This food is rarely eaten by spirits, but since you’re alive, you’ll have to make do to fill your bellies."

We weren’t fussy, so despite the taste, we ate heartily. During the meal, Wang Feiyang finally voiced his question. "Grandpa, since you were killed by the Taoist woman and ended up here, why haven’t we seen Luo Xiu, Grandma, or our parents? They all died at her hands too. Why aren’t they in this city?"

Wang Bilin was silent for a moment, then explained, "Not every wrongful death ends up in the City of Wrongful Death. Those who performed great deeds of virtue in life go straight to reincarnation. Some, through misfortune, become wandering ghosts. Others weren’t victims of wrongful death at all—their fate decreed that calamity. So, after dying, they don’t come here."

Twenty years ago, Wang Bilin had entered this city with some fellow villagers from Dongmen. He had searched for old friends but never found them. The city was vast, equivalent to a metropolis among the living; even if they had entered, he might not have found them.

Wang Feiyang nodded thoughtfully and said no more, returning to his meal.

Halfway through, a tremendous crash erupted outside, followed by a series of deafening booms, as if something catastrophic had happened.

We immediately put down our bowls and rushed outside. The street had completely transformed.

Vehicles, once orderly, were now crashing madly into one another. The spirits driving them were slaughtered on the spot, while pedestrians were crushed beneath the wheels, their bodies mangled beyond recognition.

A chill ran down my spine. I had no idea why such a horrific pileup had suddenly occurred. Just as I turned to ask Wang Bilin, I witnessed something even more astonishing.

A shadow appeared behind him, brandishing a gleaming dagger, and drove it into his chest with lightning speed.

It happened so suddenly we were caught completely off guard. When we reached him, Wang Bilin was already lying in a pool of blood, his face pale as death.

Meanwhile, the shop staff began behaving bizarrely. Some coughed up blood and collapsed without warning; others produced ropes and hanged themselves from the rafters. Still others leapt from the shop roof, smashing themselves to death on the ground below.

Just a minute before, the city had been orderly. Now, in the space of sixty seconds, every spirit seemed to die violently in their own unique way. The air was so thick with resentment and chilling energy, it was almost tangible.

Staring at the carnage, my mind was a mess. I couldn’t comprehend what was happening. Lu Li and Wang Feiyang were equally bewildered.

As we stood frozen in terror, Wang Bilin, who had just died, suddenly got up. After a few deep breaths, the pain faded from his face, returning to a calm expression.

"Don’t be afraid. This happens every day," Wang Bilin reassured us, then turned to his staff, who were sprawled around the shop. "Stop playing dead, all of you. Get back to work."

The hanged ones jumped down from the beams, those lying on the floor picked themselves up, and those who had leapt from the roof reattached their broken limbs and went back to their tasks.

Out on the street, the horrific scene quickly reverted to normal. The spirits who had just died gruesomely now walked the roads as if nothing had happened.

"What's going on here?" I asked, frowning.

Wang Bilin explained, "Every soul in the City of Wrongful Death must relive the circumstances of their demise once each day. Originally, each soul experienced it at the hour they died, but that meant there were constant scenes of horrifying death. The city’s governor established a new rule—now, everyone experiences it at the same time each day."

"I see," I replied, a cold sweat forming on my brow. "Grandpa Wang, does that mean you relive being stabbed in the heart by the Taoist woman every day?"

He nodded. "That’s what makes this city so terrifying. At first, I dreaded this hour every day. Dying once is enough to break a person. But after twenty years, over eight thousand deaths, I’ve grown used to it."