Volume One: The Soul-Guiding Gourd and the Spirit-Igniting Lamp Chapter Two: An Old Rascal in the Underworld!

Inside the Netherworld, ghostly energy swirled and dense black mist rolled endlessly.

Gu Mo gripped the thick iron chain around his neck with both hands, enduring the chill that pierced to the bone. His gaze was fixed, unwavering, upon the direction of the withered forest.

In the distance, a hunched black figure gradually approached…

His heart raced, his breath quickened—a sense of wrongness gnawed at him. Right—spirits have neither heartbeat nor breath! Yet the air was already thick with terror.

Gu Mo stared anxiously at the hunched shadow among the dead trees.

It had to be said, this hunched shadow moved with excruciating slowness, giving the impression of faltering, unsteady steps. By the look of it, this was most likely an elderly ghost.

By the time the hunched figure drew near, it felt as if an eternity had passed…

The hunched shadow cast a glance at Gu Mo, then burst into unrestrained laughter.

“Hahaha… Another guest arrives… Hahaha! This little brat is actually taking himself for a golden retriever, walking himself with an iron leash!”

After a careful look, the shadow resumed its mockery.

“Haha, the chain is even tied to the tree!… Little brat, where is your master?”

The laughter was unmistakably ancient and weathered. Even without a clear look at his face, Gu Mo knew this was an old rascal of a ghost.

The barrage of ridicule stoked Gu Mo’s anger, making his blood boil. Under the circumstances, a sharp retort was only natural.

“Old fool, who are you calling a golden retriever? Do you want a beating?”

The hunched ghost trembled as he raised his withered hand, pointing accusingly at Gu Mo. Never had he thought a mere whelp would dare insult him.

Before the hunched ghost could speak, Gu Mo, bracing against the biting cold, flung the Soul-Binding Chain in his hand.

With a crisp snap!

The chain, still looped around the dead tree, yanked down a thick branch.

A dull thud rang out!

The heavy branch landed squarely on the hunched ghost’s head, leaving him reeling, his vision spinning.

Reeling from the blow, the hunched ghost collapsed onto the ground, wailing like the end of days.

“Ow! Bullying a lonely old ghost! I can’t live like this! Someone, help!”

Gu Mo was momentarily dumbstruck, his eyes wide with horror.

If this old fool kept up the racket and drew the attention of the Black and White Impermanence, escape would be impossible!

Survival instinct kicking in, Gu Mo lunged forward and clamped his hand tightly over the old ghost’s mouth.

“Hush!”

“Mmmph! Mmmph!”

With his mouth and nose covered, the hunched old ghost could only moan pitifully.

At this close distance, Gu Mo finally saw the old ghost’s true face.

Clad in tattered rags, the ghost looked every bit of eighty years, if not more. His wild silver hair stuck out like withered weeds; deep, axe-hewn wrinkles carved his ashen face; his cloudy, ancient eyes were heavy with the weight of years. Through his fingers, Gu Mo spied a mouthful of yellowed, black teeth clinging stubbornly to the gums.

“Hush! Grandpa, I admit my mistake, alright? The Black and White Impermanence just left. You don’t want to be dragged away, do you?”

At this, the ragged old ghost began to whimper again.

Seeing this, Gu Mo widened his eyes, staring him down.

“Hush! Why are you so stubborn? Didn’t I tell you not to make a sound?”

Suddenly, the hunched old ghost sank his few blackened teeth into Gu Mo’s hand.

“Ouch! Why are you biting me, old man? Are you part dog?”

Fuming, Gu Mo yanked his hand back. Though he felt no pain, the reflexive shock persisted.

The old ghost, squatting on the ground, shot Gu Mo a glare and began to scold him.

“Youngster, how long have you been in the Netherworld? Don’t you know to respect your elders?”

Gu Mo snorted. “Respect is wasted on a stubborn old coot like you.”

“You—!”

The ragged old ghost jabbed a bony finger at Gu Mo’s nose.

Switching tactics, Gu Mo decided not to provoke the underworld guards further, so he folded his hands respectfully and bowed his head.

“Alright, Grandpa! It’s my fault, I apologize. Please, forgive me. Don’t hold a grudge against a foolish child.”

The old ghost snorted, waving his skeletal hand.

“Forget it. I won’t fuss with a young brat like you.”

Gu Mo’s heart leapt with relief, and he reached out to help the old ghost to his feet.

As he touched his arm, Gu Mo realized just how emaciated the old ghost was—like gripping a bare stick of bone.

But desperate to survive, Gu Mo forced a cheerful smile.

“Grandpa, may I ask your name?”

The old ghost shook his head. “I’ve been dead almost a century—forgotten my name long ago. But I think my surname was Xia.”

Gu Mo nodded slightly. “Grandpa Xia, my name is Gu Mo. Please take care of me.”

The old ghost Xia nodded with a smile.

Gu Mo’s eyes gleamed cunningly as he asked, “Grandpa Xia, I’m still young—I don’t want to die so soon. Is there any way to return to the living world?”

No sooner had he spoken than he felt like a fool. Old Ghost Xia had been dead a century; if there were a way back, he wouldn’t still be here.

Suddenly, Old Ghost Xia fixed Gu Mo with a grin.

“Boy, do you have a cigarette?”

Gu Mo promptly handed him a pack.

After a few luxurious puffs, Old Ghost Xia darted shifty glances all around. Once sure no one was watching, he leaned close and whispered:

“Boy, luck is on your side!”

He paused for effect, then continued, “Legend has it, outside the Hall of Life and Death Reincarnation, there’s a secret tunnel. Whoever escapes through it can return to the world of the living.”

Hearing this, Gu Mo’s heart soared. Perhaps he really could return—but doubts quickly followed.

“Grandpa Xia, is it true we can return? If there’s a tunnel, why have you waited here a hundred years?”

Old Ghost Xia rolled his eyes, lowering his voice. “Foolish child, this is the Netherworld! There are ghost soldiers and underworld guards all around the Hall of Reincarnation. Why else do you think I bide my time, waiting for the right moment?”

That made sense to Gu Mo, so he whispered, “Grandpa Xia, something just happened over there. The Black and White Impermanence who were holding me rushed off.”

Old Ghost Xia grinned widely, revealing what few black teeth remained.

“Heh heh, you’re a lucky one! Today is the King of Hell’s wedding day—the underworld will be lax in its defenses.”

Still, Gu Mo felt something was off. He frowned, suspicious.

“That can’t be right—I heard shouting and cries of battle. It didn’t sound like a wedding, more like a war!”

He pointed off into the distance.

Old Ghost Xia squinted through his cloudy eyes, then burst into wild laughter.

“Hahaha…”

Gu Mo stared at the mad old ghost, utterly baffled.

Without warning, Old Ghost Xia grabbed Gu Mo and hurried into the withered forest.

On the way, Gu Mo took in the surroundings and asked quietly, “Grandpa Xia, what exactly is happening?”

Old Ghost Xia didn’t slow, calling back, “Heaven helps us!”

With great excitement, he added, “On the King of Hell’s wedding day, the underworld’s defenses are slack. Cultivators from the world above will seize the chance to attack, seeking immortality. If we don’t run now, when will we?”

Gu Mo couldn’t help but smile. He was always one to enjoy a good spectacle.

‘Let them fight—let chaos reign! The fiercer the battle, the better my chances of escaping!’

Just as they set out, Old Ghost Xia suddenly struck Gu Mo at the neck. With a tremendous force, Gu Mo was sent flying backward, landing hard as the chill soaked into his bones.

In that instant, the Soul-Binding Chain around his neck melted away, sinking into the depths of his soul.

Gu Mo’s face darkened as he sat up, shouting, “Old Ghost Xia, what the hell are you doing?”

Old Ghost Xia, hands clasped behind his back, smiled and pointed at Gu Mo’s neck.

Gu Mo looked down, puzzled. The hateful, cumbersome iron chain had vanished.

Before he could rejoice, there was a loud boom! Green ghostly flames erupted on his hands.

He gasped and frantically beat his hands against the ground. Within moments, the flames vanished.

Stunned, Gu Mo looked to Old Ghost Xia in confusion.

“Grandpa Xia, what’s going on? Why did my hands catch fire?”

But the ragged old ghost said nothing on the matter. “Boy, hurry up!”

Still bewildered, Gu Mo followed Old Ghost Xia through the withered woods…

They hadn’t gone far when Gu Mo suddenly tensed, his thoughts racing.

‘Wait… Cultivators? Is this still the world I know? Since when are there so many cultivators?’

As he hurried along, the landscape shifting rapidly before his eyes, Gu Mo’s brow furrowed deeper and deeper. It all felt like a bizarre, fantastical dream—a strange, supernatural tale.

But this dream was truly absurd!

It was impossible to tell how long they traveled…

Suddenly, Old Ghost Xia ducked low, pulling Gu Mo down with a bony hand.

“Hush!”

Crouched on the ground, Gu Mo barely dared to breathe.

But curiosity got the better of him, and he risked a glance upward…

At once, he was struck dumb with awe, breath hissing through his teeth.

Before them stood a wind-lashed earthen slope and, at its base, a grand city gate towered.

He peered closer.

The gate tower soared over ten meters high, its tiled eaves sweeping upward, scarlet lanterns hanging in a row.

From each lantern dangled a skull, clattering like wind chimes in the chilling breeze.

At the center, a black wooden plaque hung proudly, inscribed with five massive golden characters—Hall of Life and Death Reincarnation!

Looking down, the thick black walls glowed with ethereal green flames.

In the wall, a great archway stood open, twin blood-red wooden doors within. Each door was studded with nine rows and nine columns of golden pins—solemn and imposing.

It was a truly magnificent sight!

Yet, atop the Hall’s city gate, no ghost soldier or underworld guard could be seen.

Just then, a tearing sound drifted from below the slope.

Rip—

Gu Mo craned his neck and saw, overturned at the foot of the grand gate, a lavish bridal sedan chair borne by thirty-two bearers.

Beside the sedan, weapons and armor lay in heaps, no little ghosts in sight, while a red bridal gown was spread over scattered crimson petals.

Though the sedan lay toppled, its grandeur was undiminished.

To the left, three sinister-looking men in yellow Daoist robes stood before the bridal palanquin, swords at their waists—clearly no pious monks.

With lecherous grins, the trio began to paw at a girl in red.

After a shrill, hysterical scream, the phoenix coronet tumbled from her head.

Panic-stricken, the girl clutched her torn wedding scarf with trembling hands.

Beneath, a glimpse of red undergarment flashed in and out of sight…