Zhou Xin was at the neighbor’s house when she heard commotion outside. She came out to look and saw the front door wide open. “Tong Tong.” She went to check Ji Tong’s bedroom—no one there.
Zhou Xin looked down through the window and saw Ji Tong wearing pajamas and slippers, walking straight toward the outside of the residential complex. “Tong Tong! Where are you going!”
Ji Tong ignored her.
“Tong Tong!”
Zhou Xin panicked and ran downstairs quickly. By the time she reached the complex entrance, Ji Tong was nowhere to be seen.
An elderly woman by the roadside said she had gone west.
So she hurriedly ran in that direction.
When she caught up, Ji Tong was standing inside the bridge railing. Zhou Xin nearly collapsed: “Tong Tong, come here! What are you doing standing there!”
Passersby gradually gathered, all trying to persuade her: “Little girl, come down quickly! Do you want to worry your mother to death?”
“Nothing is insurmountable, child—don’t think of doing something foolish!”
Zhou Xin couldn’t coax her down and hysterically shouted: “Ji Tong! You get over here right now!”
Ji Tong stared blankly at the river water.
Zhou Xin broke down crying and suddenly knelt down to her: “Let her go—whatever you want, I’ll give it to you. She’s still just a child.”
The bystanders heard this with confusion, thinking this mother had been driven mad with worry.
“Come into my body instead.” Zhou Xin banged her head against the ground repeatedly. “Don’t hurt her—I beg you.”
Ji Tong suddenly let go and fell straight down.
Screams erupted behind them. Zhou Xin stumbled and reached out her hand: “Tong Tong!” She pressed against the railing and was held back by bystanders.
“Don’t be impulsive!”
At that moment, a mother’s strength was unimaginably powerful. She looked at the rippling river water, forcefully shook off the man holding her, nimbly climbed over the railing, and jumped down after her. She couldn’t swim.
Some bystanders called the police, others walked down under the bridge, wanting to help with the rescue.
The moment she hit the water, Ji Tong suddenly became conscious. She struggled to swim upward, but it seemed like something was grabbing her feet, pulling her down.
Her ears filled with water, yet she seemed to faintly hear some unclear voices.
“Wanzhi.”
“Come with me.”
“Wanzhi.”
She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, had no strength to struggle.
Suddenly, a mass of black energy appeared like a fierce shark shadow, riding the whirlpool straight toward them. A tremendous force knocked the old ghost away.
It was Xue Dingqing.
He had been in the human world for decades with many ghost friends—not really a wandering ghost, he’d been too carefree and found everything meaningless. Shiyi Dian kept sending small fry to chase him, which was quite annoying. The place he should go would eventually have to be faced. Having harmed ghosts and humans, he couldn’t escape severe punishment.
Before going to the underworld administration, he wanted to see that girl called Ji Tong once more. Who knew that as soon as he arrived, he’d encounter her being possessed by an evil ghost, jumping from the high bridge right in front of him.
Xue Dingqing looked at Ji Tong continuously sinking, possessed her body—he was an excellent swimmer and quickly reached the surface, where people on shore rescued them.
He came out of Ji Tong’s body, and immediately people came to perform rescue.
“Wanzhi.”
“Wanzhi!”
“Ji Tong!”
“Wake up!”
Ji Tong coughed violently several times, spitting up water.
Xue Dingqing felt relieved, then immediately became furious, following that evil ghost’s ghostly aura. The old ghost was very fast and good at hiding, always inexplicably disappearing, leading him in endless circles.
Xue Dingqing became anxious: “Why are you hiding? Come out!”
The old ghost dropped down from above him, gripping his head. Xue Dingqing reacted extremely quickly, immediately twisting that wrist and pulling him down. Unexpectedly, the old ghost struck with a palm, sending him flying far away.
Xue Dingqing saw the old ghost’s face clearly, and instantly his malevolent energy exploded uncontrollably. His piercing ghostly wail nearly tore him apart: “Fujita!”
The old ghost sneered: “You still remember me.”
“I’d recognize you even if you turned to ash!”
…
He Feng was in the minor hell, his hands and feet locked with chains.
Ghostly wails filled the air everywhere. The ghost executioner holding a whip didn’t dare strike: “Lord He, please bear with it.”
“Cut the nonsense—hurry up.”
The ghost executioner slowly and leisurely swung the whip. He Feng glared at him fiercely: “Is this how you usually carry out punishments?”
The ghost executioner immediately knelt down: “Lord He, spare my life.”
He Feng didn’t want to waste words with him: “Get up.”
The ghost executioner tremblingly stood up, bowed as he raised the whip: “Then I’m really going to strike now.”
“If you say one more word, I’ll switch places and whip you.”
The ghost executioner delivered a fierce lash.
…
After half a day of punishment, He Feng broke out of prison.
His subordinates came to the minor hell to find him and informed him of some news.
Zhou Xin was dead.
He Feng flipped through her file. Zhou Xin could have lived to eighty-nine—she absolutely shouldn’t have died at this time.
She was being led to the underworld administration by ghost officers. He Feng forcibly snatched her soul from the ghost officers: “She hasn’t reached her death date—you’re taking her randomly. I’ll have White Impermanence skin you alive.”
Though they weren’t from the same department, this small impermanence officer also feared the Patrol Envoy’s reputation. Not daring to directly oppose him, he obediently released her and went back to the underworld administration to report.
Zhou Xin saw this fierce-looking ghost and became even more afraid: “I don’t want to die. My daughter is still so young. If I die, who will earn money? One old, one young—please let me go back.”
He Feng saw her trembling as she knelt and quickly helped her up: “You’re not dead—you just had a dream.”
He Feng sent her back. Zhou Xin came back to life but remained unconscious for a long time. Grandmother sat in the living room, beating her chest and crying loudly.
Ji Tong hid under the blankets, face toward the wall, motionless. He Feng came to her side.
“A’Zhi.”
The person on the bed didn’t react.
“I brought your mother back. Wake up and go see her.”
Still no reaction.
He Feng moved closer: “Ji Tong?”
Only then did he sense that her soul was gone.
…
The two Patrol Envoys Wang and Li had been tracking the culprit evil ghost for two days without success. Slacking in their work, they’d gone who knows where. He Feng mobilized all the city’s ghosts to search for her traces. Just as he was frantically searching, the little ghost officer he’d assigned to protect Ji Tong came crawling over, barely breathing.
“He… devours ghosts…”
Fujita Kiyono deliberately left this little ghost officer with one breath to bring news to He Feng.
On the other side, he instructed Takada Shi to have already laid out a perfect trap, waiting for him to fall into it.
He Feng was too anxious, afraid this evil ghost would do something to Ji Tong. He charged recklessly and arrived at an abandoned building about to be demolished.
Takada Shi hid in the shadows. He had already drawn symbols on the ground with black dog blood, covering them with long cloth to hide the surface traces. Initially, he was still afraid He Feng would notice, but unexpectedly he was completely overwhelmed, like a big fool, falling perfectly into his trap.
If it were before, He Feng might not have feared this thing, but now with three Soul-Calming Nails suppressing him inside his body, plus having received some whip punishment, his soul’s power was greatly weakened. He braced his hand against the ground but couldn’t exert strength—even his remaining power seemed to gradually dissipate.
“Mr. He.” Fujita Kiyono stood suspended in the air not far away. “Long time no see.”
The moment He Feng saw him clearly, his whole body filled with killing intent: “It’s you! Where did you take her!”
“You mean Wanzhi?” Fujita Kiyono smiled. “She’s with me, very well. You don’t need to worry.”
“Big brother!”
He suddenly heard Meng Yuan’s voice.
“Big brother! You must leave quickly.”
“Meng Yuan, where are you?”
Fujita Kiyono released Meng Yuan. She collapsed on the ground, appearing to have no external injuries but looking very weak.
“This is between you and me—it has nothing to do with her.” He Feng struggled to get up, using his last bit of strength to roll out of the blood formation.
Meng Yuan cursed from the side: “Little Japanese, little devil! Shameless and despicable! Using such underhanded methods—truly worthy of being a Japanese dog, ptui!”
“She’s right—there should be a proper confrontation.” Fujita Kiyono looked down at He Feng, whose soul power was dissipating. “But in your current state, how can you fight me?”
He Feng recovered somewhat and barely managed to stand, wielding his white whip to strike at him. Fujita Kiyono easily dodged. He Feng’s power was insufficient, and he suffered backlash from the white whip, with gurgling black energy emanating from his chest.
“I told you—you’re no match for me.” He seized He Feng’s white whip and lashed it at him. Seeing He Feng prostrate on the ground with his head bowed, he felt extreme satisfaction. He delivered four consecutive lashes, beating him until he couldn’t get up.
“Is this all you’re capable of?”
“Big brother!” Meng Yuan crawled to Fujita Kiyono’s legs, clawing and pounding at his feet. “Damn it! You won’t die well! You’ll go to hell!”
“Won’t die well?” Fujita Kiyono looked at her with a smile. “Tell me, how else could I not die well?”
Fujita Kiyono suddenly picked her up, gripping her neck: “I kept you around for so long without planning to trouble you, but why are you so unreasonable? Then I’ll eat you first.”
Meng Yuan couldn’t struggle and looked at He Feng on the ground, whimpering as she called “Big brother.”
“This is your honor.” As the words fell, Fujita Kiyono absorbed her into his body.
He Feng was furious beyond measure, struggling to suddenly fly toward him, but was repelled before reaching him.
“You are formidable, having killed countless ghosts. But I devour ghosts—I devour malevolent ghosts. The heavier the malevolent energy, the more I like it. Tell me, how can you fight me?” Fujita Kiyono controlled the white whip, binding He Feng’s hands and neck. “It was a great regret that I didn’t kill you back then. Now that your soul will be scattered under my hands, it can be considered complete.”
Before destroying him, Fujita Kiyono released Ji Tong’s soul. She stood suspended in mid-air, her eyes drooping woodenly, unconscious.
Seeing her at that moment, the thing in He Feng’s left eye began to stir restlessly again.
Fujita Kiyono looked at that green light and shattered his eyepatch: “Emotion-Devouring Ghost Spider? Your underworld administration is really interesting—treating your own subordinates like this. Is it worth your devotion to them?”
Emotion-Devouring Ghost Spider—its name matched its effect, feeding on emotions. The host couldn’t feel emotions—love, jealousy, hatred… all belonged to the category of emotions. If violated, the ghost spider would immediately absorb the emotional threads, and the spider’s body would emit green light. The stronger the emotion, the brighter the light. How painful was it? Like thousands of poisoned needles stabbing your eyes, then the poison spreading deeper along the hosting area, causing pain throughout the entire body. Thus, as long as emotions stirred, the ghost spider would immediately remind him to restrain himself. When He Feng refused to eliminate his emotions years ago, Shiyi Dian used this method to control him.
“Feeding it so well—truly deeply in love.” Fujita Kiyono embraced Ji Tong, stroking her chin while looking provocatively at He Feng on the ground, deliberately stimulating him: “But so what? You see, what you couldn’t obtain back then, you still can’t obtain now. She is mine.”
“Wanzhi, look—this is your beloved.”
Ji Tong suddenly awakened, struggling to escape him: “He Feng!”
Fujita Kiyono pulled her back into his embrace: “Don’t be willful.”
Ji Tong used all her strength to strike at him: “Let me go!”
Fujita Kiyono showed no reaction, letting her scratch him while smiling indulgently: “Wanzhi, don’t make trouble.”
He Feng was controlled by the white whip, unable to move: “Let her go!”
“Little Japanese, little devil! Get away! Don’t touch me!”
Fujita Kiyono frowned: “Wanzhi, don’t speak to me like that.”
Ji Tong turned and was about to pounce toward He Feng when she was pulled back again. She struggled with all her might. Fujita Kiyono sighed: “Wanzhi still won’t accept me, just like before—her eyes and heart are full of you. What should I do?”
He Feng suddenly removed his cloak, tore open his clothes, and pulled out a Soul-Calming Nail. Along with the severe pain, his power gradually returned. He violently broke free from the white whip and pounced toward Fujita Kiyono: “You’re courting death!”
Fujita Kiyono was unprepared and was struck outside the wall. He Feng followed in pursuit. The white whip was still in his hand. He Feng roared: “Come back here!”
The white whip swam back to his side like a flexible snake, controlled by He Feng to strike fiercely at Fujita Kiyono.
Fujita Kiyono was injured and immediately concealed himself within the black ring. Unable to recover for the moment, he looked at Takada Shi hiding behind the abandoned boxes, suddenly manifested, and lifted him up. Takada Shi was terrified, his eyes wide: “Grandfather.”
As soon as the words fell, he was thrown downstairs. His soul rose up and was caught by Fujita Kiyono.
“Grandfather! No, I am—”
Fujita Kiyono ignored his pleas. Without waiting for him to finish speaking, he devoured him alive.
What grandparent-grandchild affection? He was just a puppet he’d raised—he wouldn’t even give him his surname.
Ji Tong was shocked unconscious. He Feng held her, wanting to send her back to her body. Fujita Kiyono, having devoured several ghosts, quickly recovered his strength and chased after them. The white whip whooshed over and bound his hands and feet.
He Feng looked at him: “For all the living beings you’ve harmed, today I will execute you on the spot!”
The white whip tightened more and more. Fujita Kiyono couldn’t struggle and cursed angrily: “Even you all want to help him! Still want to continue being suppressed by him!”
The white whip had consciousness and alternately tightened and loosened.
Fujita Kiyono took the opportunity to sow discord: “I can release you! Kill him! Then you’ll be free!”
The white whip suddenly released him.
Fujita Kiyono used all his strength to strike at the white whip. Immediately, streams of evil spirits competed to fly out, wildly rushing toward He Feng.
Fujita Kiyono took advantage of his entanglement to grab Ji Tong: “Since you won’t come with me, then let’s merge together forever!”
He Feng was entangled by evil spirits and couldn’t break free. Seeing him absorbing Ji Tong’s soul, he suddenly went mad and pulled out the remaining two Soul-Calming Nails.
Instantly, thick black energy poured from his seven orifices, rolling and gradually surrounding his entire body. All ten fingernails turned black as he once again transformed into a malevolent ghost and pounced toward Fujita Kiyono.
He thrust his hand into his throat and pulled out Ji Tong, who hadn’t yet merged.
Fujita Kiyono was gripped by the throat and suddenly let out a sharp, ear-piercing long laugh: “You pulled out the Soul-Calming Nails! You pulled out the Soul-Calming Nails! Hahahaha, if I can’t have her, you can’t have her either! Hahahaha!”
He Feng completely lost control and tore him apart with his bare hands.
Soul-Calming Nails were the most powerful soul artifacts used by Shiyi Dian to suppress ghost souls, more potent than soul cauldrons, and could not be removed by oneself. What just happened seemed like a dying surge of energy. Soon, He Feng’s soul power dispersed, and he was on the verge of death.
The white whip was damaged and continuously released evil spirits. Ji Tong floated in mid-air, surrounded by malevolent energy. He sent her far away and used his remaining strength to seal the white whip.
Originally, he was the malevolent ghost used to forge the soul whip. Having endured the soul cauldron for decades, he was fortunate to keep his life and lived several more decades.
But in the end, he still sacrificed himself for the soul whip.
…
Ji Tong slept for two days before waking up. Opening her eyes to see the bright room, she was blinded by the light and shielded her eyes.
Zhou Xin quickly drew the curtains.
“You finally woke up.” Zhou Xin’s eyes were swollen. “Tong Tong, Tong Tong.”
Ji Tong removed her hand and stared blankly upward.
Zhou Xin gripped her hand: “Tong Tong, say something.” She pulled her, shook her, but she showed no reaction. “Tong Tong, say something to Mama.”
Ji Tong looked at her and suddenly tears flowed down.
Zhou Xin hurriedly wiped them away: “Why are you crying, child? Don’t cry.”
Ji Tong gripped her hand tightly: “Mama.”
“Mama is here, Mama is right here.”
“I feel so terrible.”
Zhou Xin stroked her head: “Mama will go find the spirit medium—she’s right next door. You wait, you won’t feel terrible in a while.”
Zhou Xin ran out.
Ji Tong pounded her chest, tears flowing endlessly.
All the emotions and memories flooded her brain.
It was about to explode.
[Find a chance to kill me]
[He Feng, look, it’s snowing]
[Once we’ve shared a bed and lifted the bridal veil, I’ll be yours for life]
[When the war is won, if you still haven’t returned, then I won’t wait for you anymore]
[Aren’t you afraid I’ll kill you?]
[You’ve made all my beliefs collapse]
[You’ve grown taller]
…
…
July 1936.
Nanjing’s summer heat was like a steamer. From some tree, cicadas perched and called endlessly all morning.
The fan in the shop was broken. It was sent for repair yesterday and still hadn’t been returned. Xie Chi was half-asleep, half-awake from the screeching outside, drowsily fanning herself with a small round fan, creating hot air, with fine beads of sweat on her forehead.
From tossing and turning, her pinned-up long hair had come loose, and even the wooden hairpin had fallen awkwardly onto the carpet.
She wore a black qipao. No matter when, black always seemed oppressive, making this already uncomfortable day look stifling to others as well.
Xie Chi liked wearing black—from summer qipao to winter coats. In her hair, she either wore hairpins or tied white cloth bands, or black ones. Others found it strange and sometimes asked about it.
In earlier years, she answered: “In mourning.”
But after one, two, three years passed.
Still in mourning?
So she would say: “I’m used to it.”
The distant cicadas finally stopped calling.
A’Ru downstairs started shouting again: “Boss!”
“Boss!”
A’Ru wore leather shoes that made the stairs thump loudly. “Boss, there’s a customer.” A’Ru pushed open the door and poked half her head in. “Are you awake? Boss.”
Xie Chi turned over, and the round fan on her stomach fell to the ground. She slowly sat up, picked it up and tossed it aside, braced her hand on the chair to stand up, drooping her eyelids as she looked at her lazily: “Calling for souls, are you?”
…