Chapter Forty-Five: Slaying the Ghostly Soldiers

Although Wang Bilin claimed he was used to it, I could clearly see the constant twitching at the corners of his mouth as he spoke. It was evident that deep down, he was still gripped by fear.

“Grandfather, how much longer do you have before your lifespan runs out?” Wang Feiyang, who stood nearby, asked.

Wang Bilin replied that he had eight years left. Upon hearing this, Wang Feiyang said nothing more, simply gazing in silence at the gray, hazy sky outside. For a moment, a trace of pain and reluctance appeared on his icy, stone-cold face.

Just then, Wang Feiyang’s brow furrowed sharply. He cautiously edged back toward us, prompting me to follow his gaze. I saw a squad of underworld soldiers approaching—seven in total—the same group we had encountered earlier on the street.

My heart tightened. I couldn’t fathom why they would suddenly show up here. Could it be that Wang Feiyang and I had killed that fat man named Master Zhang?

Instinctively, we all became tense. Wang Feiyang’s hand had already crept to the hilt of his bamboo knife at his waist, while Wang Bilin hurriedly stepped in front of us, greeting the soldiers with a smile: “Sirs, you must be here for the sweat-blood horse. There’s really no need for you to collect it in person. Didn’t we agree I’d send someone to deliver it to your residence first thing tomorrow?”

But the underworld soldiers ignored Wang Bilin completely. The leader shoved him aside and walked straight up to the three of us, scanning us with a suspicious, unsettling gaze.

My heart leapt. Had they discovered something? Beside me, both Lu Li and Wang Feiyang were tense with anxiety. None of us knew why these soldiers had come here so abruptly.

Wang Bilin, having just been pushed aside, frowned as well. Suddenly, as if realizing something, he began making urgent, covert gestures to us, but we couldn’t decipher his intent.

It wasn’t until the lead soldier began questioning us in a strange, mocking tone about the manner of our deaths that I understood what Wang Bilin was trying to convey.

He had mentioned before that every restless soul in this City of Wrongful Death would, at this specific time, relive the agony of their demise. That explained the harrowing scenes we had witnessed earlier in the city. Yet, at that very moment, the three of us had been sitting here untouched. That oversight could easily expose us as living people.

If living souls were discovered within this city, it would be catastrophic. The underworld soldiers would never let us live.

Clearly, these soldiers must have learned that we hadn’t endured death’s agony as expected, which explained their sudden visit. How they knew—whether through their own means or because we were being watched from the start—I had no way of knowing.

Still, since Wang Bilin was signaling us, it meant the critical time hadn’t passed yet. If we acted quickly and convincingly, we might just deceive them.

Without hesitation, I scrambled up to the rooftop outside and prepared to jump.

The roof was more than three meters high. I hesitated—if I jumped, would I actually die from the fall? But then I thought, if I didn’t take the risk and was exposed as a living person, I’d die all the same. In that case, I might as well gamble everything.

Gritting my teeth, I hurled myself from the roof. The moment I hit the ground, it felt as though every bone in my body was about to shatter, but fortunately, the injuries were only superficial. I squeezed my eyes shut and played dead.

Meanwhile, Wang Feiyang acted even more decisively. He drew his bamboo knife and slashed his own wrist, attempting to feign suicide by exsanguination. Blood streamed down his arm; after a few groans of pain, he, too, collapsed to the ground.

Our methods of faking suicide were riddled with flaws, but under the circumstances, that was all we could manage. Oddly enough, it seemed to work—the underworld soldiers didn’t appear to see through our act.

Just as I thought the crisis had passed, I caught sight of Lu Li. When I saw him looping a rope around his neck and hanging himself from a roof beam, thrashing in agony, my mind went blank in shock.

Was this guy really an idiot? Of all ways to fake a suicide, why choose hanging? One false move and he’d actually die right there.

Lu Li probably hadn’t considered how foolish his method was. His face turned crimson, his eyes bulged with pain, and he struggled to grip the rope with his hands, but without leverage, he was unable to free himself. Wang Bilin panicked. He rushed forward to help, but a nearby underworld soldier barred his way.

“Old Wang, what are you doing? Your nephew hanged himself in life—now he’s simply reliving that suffering. Why panic? His soul won’t be destroyed. Or are you saying your nephew isn’t really dead?”

Wang Bilin was torn, visibly trapped in a dilemma. If he didn’t intervene, Lu Li might die; if he did, we’d be exposed. Wang Feiyang and I were equally frantic, at a loss for what to do.

The underworld soldiers watched with wicked grins, resting their chins on their hands, clearly amused by Lu Li’s desperate struggle, as if waiting to see how long he would last.

Lu Li’s face had gone from red to white, his eyes were bloodshot, and veins bulged on his forehead, threatening to burst at any moment—he looked on the brink of death.

I could no longer stand by. If this continued, Lu Li would surely die. I even suspected the soldiers had known all along that we were living souls and had come specifically to capture us, now treating us like monkeys for their amusement.

“To hell with this!”

Cursing, I sprang to my feet, disregarding everything else, and charged at one of the underworld soldiers, slamming a thunder-palm strike into his back.

This soldier’s strength was only marginally greater than the underworld agent I’d encountered earlier. My thunder-palm left him reeling. At the same time, Wang Feiyang wielded his bamboo knife and severed the rope hanging from the beam.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Seeing me attack, the remaining soldiers flew into a rage, swinging their iron whips at me. At that moment, Wang Bilin, who had been standing by the door, suddenly slammed it shut, his face darkening ominously.

“Wang Bilin, you’ve harbored the living among the dead—a crime punishable by death. What, are you going to rebel now?” the lead soldier shouted, lashing at Wang Bilin with his whip.

Wang Bilin caught the whip with a flick of his hand, yanked the soldier toward him, and seized him by the throat.

“What are you doing?” The soldier, sensing the murderous intent radiating from Wang Bilin, panicked.

Wang Bilin stared coldly at him. “Normally, I tolerate your arrogance. I, Wang the Paper Artisan, have a good temper and let things slide. But now you threaten my grandson—don’t blame me for being ruthless. Don’t forget, in life, I too ate the food of the underworld.”

With that, Wang Bilin twisted hard, and with a sickening crack, broke the soldier’s neck. The remaining soldiers were furious, but before they could react, Wang Bilin charged into their midst, dispatching each of them with deadly efficiency. In moments, all seven soldiers were utterly destroyed.

There was no time even to catch our breath. Wang Bilin immediately warned us that we were in grave danger—the soldiers bore special markings, and once they were killed, others from the City Lord’s residence would soon track us down. We had to run, now!

Fully aware of the peril, we didn’t hesitate. We flung open the door, but the moment we saw what awaited us outside, terror seized us and we recoiled instantly!