There are three things in this world you should not easily believe.
One, a man’s sincerity. Two, a woman saying she’s not angry. Three, a ghost saying it’s not lying to you.
Fu Sang raised an eyebrow slightly, his reply seemingly a response to something else entirely:
“Maybe.”
He paused, then looked away, his tone flat, as if telling a cold joke:
“Perfect timing. A friend asked me to help ask you one thing, why don’t you kill me?”
“San..San You…”
Before Qi Changying could answer, Huo Wei spoke up.
The girl’s face had gone pale:
“Who are you talking to…”
Even though she had dealt with unclean things since childhood, at this moment, Huo Wei still felt a chill run down her spine from Fu Sang’s words:
“Are you possesed nd? Holy shit, don’t scare me…”
“I’m not scaring you.” Fu Sang stood under the moonlight, his already fair skin looking even paler:
“Obviously, I’m asking Qi Changying.”
“H-how is that possible?” Huo Wei broke out in goosebumps and stammered:
“Let’s get one thing straight, okay? The one who can’t see spirits is you, Fu Sang, not me, Huo Wei. My eyes are wide open like copper bells right now…I can even clearly see that little ghost shadow on the broken wall thirty meters behind you. And now you’re telling me there’s a seventh-rank Crimson Evil right in front of me but I can’t see it? Are you crazy or am I blind?”
“…”
Fu Sang was briefly stunned upon hearing this.
After a moment’s hesitation, he looked up at Huo Wei and asked for confirmation:
“You can’t see him?”
“I can’t see him.”
Huo Wei stammered:
“All I hear is the Weeping Soul Coin crying wildly…there’s no sign of a ghost?”
Fu Sang raised an eyebrow slightly and casually pulled a talisman from his pocket. They both knew this was a Spirit-Searching Talisman used by spirit masters to detect yin energy and spirits of the underworld. Normally, it would emit light to indicate a spirit’s location. But at this moment, it ignited and turned to ash the moment Fu Sang took it out.
This meant the concentration of yin energy here had reached a level the talisman paper could no longer withstand.
So the seventh-rank Crimson Evil Qi Changying beside him was not just his own hallucination.
Seeing this, Huo Wei opened her mouth as if to say something, but dryly swallowed it back.
Talisman paper doesn’t lie.
She herself could also feel it, the yin energy in this place was indeed dense enough to be frightening.
It had reached a level she had never seen before.
She had originally thought it was just a problem with this godforsaken place, combined with a recent death here, but now it was clearly not the case.
“Do you remember the Seven Watch Blood Crying Prison I told you about?” Fu Sang asked after a brief moment of thought.
Huo Wei nodded like a chicken pecking rice.
“I jumped off the cliff and was inexplicably pulled into that formation. I don’t know how I broke the seal. Maybe that’s why I am now the only one that can see Qi Changying’s remnant soul.”
Fu Sang’s mind had already run through several rounds, sorting out the known information into a rough outline, explaining his speculation to Huo Wei as concisely as possible.
“Remnant soul?” Huo Wei rarely caught the key point:
“You mean this Crimson Evil isn’t a complete entity, just a remnant soul?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“…”
Fu Sang looked at Huo Wei blinking her big eyes, so clear and yet so foolish.
He really hadn’t expected that while out here, he…a half-baked amateur…would have to explain basic knowledge to Huo Wei, a “proper spirit master”:
“What is an underworld spirit made of?”
“It is essentially yin energy condensed into physical form.”
“So what spirit masters see as ghosts are actually yin energy condensed into specific shapes. First- and second-rank spirits have blurry features because the yin energy is thin and not condensed enough.”
“I know that, of course.”
“A Crimson Evil is a seventh-rank underworld spirit. Its yin energy would only be denser, more solid, and stronger. Since that’s the case, why can’t you see it?”
“…”
Huo Wei thought it over for a long time herself: “Oh yeah!”
“Unless he’s just a phantom image or a remnant soul…in short, his rank is high and his power is strong, but his actual body is extremely weak. Otherwise, given his status as a Crimson Evil, I wouldn’t still be alive after the seal was broken.”
It was a bit chilly at night. Fu Sang tugged at his jacket and was about to say something when he heard Qi Changying speak again:
“No.”
“What?” Fu Sang frowned slightly and looked at him.
“What seventh rank, what Crimson Evil…I don’t know why you two are so wary of me, but I don’t harm people, Fu Sang.”
Qi Changying carefully examined Fu Sang’s unusual, dark red left eye and added another premise:
“At least, not when I’m clear-headed.”
After that, Fu Sang actually started having a conversation with a Crimson Evil:
“Then why were you sealed and suppressed? Was it because you were once ‘not clear-headed’?”
“…I’ve forgotten.”
Qi Changying stood up, looked up at the unusually round and bright moon in the sky, and suddenly said something entirely unrelated to the topic:
“I haven’t been out for many years. Tonight’s bright full moon feels familiar, like I’ve seen it somewhere before.”
“There’s a moon every night.” Fu Sang poured cold water on him.
“But the moon is…different every night.” Qi Changying said this with a slight pause, seemingly somewhat dazed.
The next second, he dissipated like smoke under the moonlight.
Fu Sang stared at the spot where he had vanished, unable to come back to his senses
for a moment.
“Wait… hold on.”
Huo Wei, watching from the side, felt her hair stand on end and couldn’t help but weakly interject again:
“San You, were you… just chatting with a ghost?”
“No, I was on a WeChat call.”
“Don’t give me that nonsense…I’m asking seriously!”
“Obviously it’s not with this corpse.”
Fu Sang thought it was obvious and didn’t understand why Huo Wei had to ask this unnecessary question to stir up trouble.
But Huo Wei seemed extremely terrified:
“You can understand what he says? And he can understand you???”
The corner of Fu Sang’s mouth twitched, completely baffled as to what was wrong with her:
“Qi Changying was from the Li Dynasty, not Lithuania. I don’t think I need simultaneous interpretation to talk to him.”
“No… are you kidding me? Humans and ghosts are two separate systems…yin and yang are divided by a barrier. Even if they use the same language, they can’t understand each other face to face. Otherwise, why would humans and spirits need the Spirit-Communication Spell to talk? Didn’t you take that class?”
Huo Wei thought he was deliberately messing with her. But after a brief moment of surprise, Fu Sang honestly said:
“I’ve never taken it.”
Huo Wei was speechless.
She then remembered that advanced techniques like the Spirit-Communication Spell, which are directly applied to underworld spirits for communication, were taught only within the main clan and inner families. Before Fu Sang could formally study these techniques, he was confirmed unable to see spirits, and was subsequently stripped of his surname and expelled from the main clan to the outer branch. Courses like this, which were only useful when directly facing spirits, were useless to him and naturally, he had never been exposed to them.
“Hei Mountain Pass is a strange place, as is that sealing formation in the mountains. For now, let’s just conclude that everything that seems illogical is because of it and stop overthinking.”
Fu Sang looked up at Huo Wei, didn’t continue the previous topic, and gave another order instead:
“Release a Mourning Bird.”
“Oh, oh,” Huo Wei hurriedly pulled out a talisman from her pocket: “Send it to whom?”
“Anyone. Just get it out of the mountains.”
Huo Wei was still feeling guilty for unintentionally poking at his sore spot earlier, so when she heard Fu Sang’s instruction, she quickly carried it out.
She pulled out a talisman, folded it a few times, cupped it between her palms, made a simple hand seal, then opened her hands. The talisman had transformed into a paper crane, flapping its wings and flying into the night sky.
This was a little trick used by nether-path spirit masters to send messages. Because nether-path messages always involve death and ghosts, hence the name”Mourning Bird”.
But a Mourning Bird’s range was limited. They were out here in these deep mountains, having it fly a thousand kilometers back to the Zhuge family was absolutely impossible, and there was no one to receive it either inside or outside the mountains. So why did Fu Sang ask her to release such a little bird?
Huo Wei found it strange, but she soon got her answer, and her expression shifted slightly.
Fu Sang seemed to have expected it, and didn’t even lift his eyes:
“The Mourning Bird burned, didn’t it?”
The essence of this minor spell was the talisman. When a talisman encountered unexpected circumstances, it would burn, and naturally, so would the Mourning Bird.
“Yes. But why would it burn?” Huo Wei couldn’t figure it out:
“Unless someone deliberately intercepted it, the Mourning Bird wouldn’t have any problems!”
“It’s that formation.” Fu Sang’s answer was certain.
“Which one?”
“The Seven Watch Blood Cry.”
Huo Wei was stunned: “Didn’t you say it was in the mountains?”
“The main body is in the mountains, but the area it covers is uncertain. A powerful formation will have barriers inside and out. We’re inside it, so we count as people within the formation…it’s normal that things can’t get out.”
Fu Sang pulled out another talisman and didn’t dwell on the matter further. He brought one corner of the yellow talisman close to the fatal wound on the deceased, watching as thin wisps of black-gray smoke seeped from the paper’s edge, and asked Huo Wei:
“Is there any soul of the deceased around?”
Huo Wei looked around and shook her head: “No, it’s clean.”
Fu Sang narrowed his eyes slightly:
“Even if a newly deceased person doesn’t become a ghost, their soul will linger around the body while their consciousness hasn’t fully faded, and only disperse after the seventh day. So where did she go?”
This was where having a solid foundation in knowledge made the difference. Huo Wei, who was prompted like this, had a sudden realization: “Exactly! Where’s the soul!”
“According to the villagers, so many people have died at Hei Mountain Pass, and all were unjust deaths. With so many vengeful souls gathered here, the feng shui and terrain couldn’t be worse, yet the village hasn’t been greatly affected. That itself defies logic. Unless the village is also part of the formation.”
The talisman smoke drifted farther and farther. Fu Sang finally stood up, following the smoke out of Aunt Li’s small courtyard and heading toward the back mountain.
Huo Wei hurried to keep up:
“What do you mean? Explain it in more detail, my foundation is weak so I can’t understand!”
“The land has its terrain, the sky has its celestial patterns, energy(qi) has its flow, and naturally, a formation has its formation force. For a formation to take shape, it must have a force. That force might be common natural elements like the Eight Trigrams, the Five Phases, or other miscellaneous things. The reason the Seven Watch Blood Crying Prison is so fierce and cruel is that it primarily uses the force of death.”
Fu Sang walked forward following the talisman smoke while explaining:
“If you could see Qi Changying, you’d see a Ten-Thousand-Deaths-Without-Reincarnation rune talisman on his right cheek. Such a ruthless and vicious evil talisman isn’t used lightly. It’s placement here is also part of the force of death, meant to suppress and torture him for a thousand years without release. The same force of death includes the bonds formed by the gathering of the souls of the dead in the mountains.
“Those who entered Hei Mountain Pass over the years were precisely influenced by the death force, stripped of their fortune, met with various unlucky fatal accidents in the mountains, and after dying, used their own lives to reinforce the death force, thus becoming part of the Seventh Watch Blood Crying Prison. But that makes the villagers’ survival here weird, why aren’t they affected by the death force?”
“Why?” Huo Wei rarely absorbed these hard facts and couldn’t help picking up Fu Sang’s thread.
“Because they are the life force.”
Fu Sang stepped onto a small mound north of the village, picking up a random branch along the way and holding it in his hand:
“With life comes death, with death comes life. Life and death are originally born together, and the same goes for their forces. If the death force becomes too strong, it will become uncontrollable, so the life force is needed to balance it. But the life force also needs a fixed number. Spirit masters themselves stand outside the forces of heaven and earth, so you and I don’t affect these forces nor are affected by them. But ordinary people are different.”
The talisman smoke led Fu Sang to a pine tree. Fu Sang burned the talisman, walked around the tree once, then measured six steps westward, and finally drew a circle on the ground beneath his feet:
“Since it’s part of the formation, the life force cannot go wrong, it must have a fixed number. If the number is off, the formation’s force will adjust itself. If I’m guessing right, there was a newborn in the village today. One life and one death…the current total population of Hei Mountain Village should be exactly seventy-seven.”
Huo Wei opened her mouth, unable to describe her feelings.
She had been with Fu Sang the whole time, right? They had seen roughly the same things and encountered the same people, so why could this person rattle off so many conclusions?
“Any more questions?” Fu Sang asked.
“Yes!” Huo Wei snapped back to reality:
“Why did it have to be Widow Li who died? Her whole family died, too…is that also because of this formation? What, even formations pick on the weak and let fate toy with the unfortunate?”
“I don’t know whether fate toys with people or not. With life comes death, both life and death are completely normal. As for why it was her specifically, her home has a mountain at its back, a high wall in front, and a water cut-off on one side…those are three sides of death, with the only side of life facing a butcher’s shop, where the blood energy is too heavy, making it a dead spot for fortune. People living in such terrain are prone to bad luck, confusion, and encountering harm.”
Having said that, Fu Sang tapped the ground with the branch in his hand:
“Her fate is stronger in the earth and wood elements. So she should be buried at a higher elevation to avoid the fire element. This will ensure her soul can rest in peace and that she will have a smooth next life. This pine tree also has an affinity with her. Right here.”
After finding the burial site for Aunt Li, Fu Sang adjusted the feng shui of the spot. After he finished, he heard roosters crowing in the village and saw the sky turning pale in the east. He stuck the branch upright at the center of the chosen spot and attached a talisman to its tip as a marker.
After that, they left the back mountain and went straight to the village head’s house.
He told the village chief about the burial site he had chosen. As they were leaving, as if thinking of something, he asked an extra question:
“Was a child born in the village yesterday?”
The village chief was startled, as if wondering why he asked that. Though puzzled, he still answered:
“Yes, the Xiao family at the east end of the village had a baby girl. Why?”
“It’s nothing.” Fu Sang thought for a moment and asked again:
“May I ask what the village’s population is?”
The village chief looked at him suspiciously: “Why are you asking that?”
Fu Sang’s expression didn’t change: “To help you check the feng shui.”
His advanced feng shui certification was still impressive enough. The village chief immediately shut his mouth, smiled, and pulled out a register from the desk drawer. Flipping through it, he reported a number:
“Seventy-eight.”
‘One too many.’
Huo Wei’s brow twitched, and she glanced at Fu Sang. But Fu Sang was very certain: “Impossible. Look again.”
“Oh, wait, no…”
The village chief licked his finger, turned a page, picked up the pencil on the desk, and crossed out a line on the register:
“With Aunt Li gone, that makes it…”
Fu Sang raised an eyebrow slightly, looked at Huo Wei, and his voice overlapped with the village head’s:
“Seventy-seven.”
Not one more, not one less.
