Chapter 5: The Magistrate of the Underworld

Lin Residence.

Xu Xuan was having breakfast alone.

As for his elder sister Xu Rongjun and cousin Lin, the two had gone out early in the morning. There was a fair in town today, and they went together for a bit of excitement.

On the table sat a bowl of fragrant millet porridge, a dish of pickled vegetables, four or five perfectly golden scallion pancakes, each exuding an enticing aroma, and a separate bowl holding several eggs.

Xu Xuan had just taken a few sips of porridge when a handsome young man approached at a leisurely pace.

The youth appeared somewhat listless. He wore a robe the color of pale moonlight, his cheeks still rounded with the softness of youth, and his peach blossom eyes flickered uneasily—a clear sign of a guilty conscience.

“Oh, Ruian, you’re back. I heard you were cultivating some divine skill last night; you must be exhausted. Come, have an egg to replenish yourself.”

“As the saying goes, a single drop of X equals ten drops of blood, and a drop of blood is worth ten eggs. Eat more to recover.”

Xu Xuan smiled and waved Lin Pingzhi over, peeling a boiled egg as he spoke.

Lin Pingzhi flushed with embarrassment. After all, Xu Xuan was his elder, and being exposed by his uncle-in-law felt like social death.

Abstinent Lin Pingzhi? Ridiculous!

“Thank you for your concern, Uncle. To be honest, I really am exhausted after last night!”

At that moment, all Lin Pingzhi could do was feign ignorance. He ladled himself a bowl of millet porridge and drank in silence.

The two sat across from each other in awkward silence.

Just then, heavy footsteps echoed from outside once more.

“Ah, rank really does crush people. Keeping the county magistrate company for night fishing is no easy job.”

Lin Luo was a tall, burly man with a rugged face, distinguished by his thick mustache and powerful presence. Though he was not in official attire, he nevertheless radiated an air of natural authority.

He worked at the local yamen, dealing with criminals year-round, which had left him with a trace of severity—necessary for handling the most vicious wrongdoers.

Though Lin Luo grumbled aloud, his eyes betrayed a certain delight—he was quite pleased.

And why was he so pleased? He had enjoyed a night of revelry on the county’s dime.

Last night, he’d accompanied the county magistrate in his amusements, eating and drinking at public expense—it hadn’t cost him a single coin.

Especially the girls at the Spring Blossom Pavilion: their delicate arms, those long legs, their slender waists… just thinking about it made his mouth water.

Lin Luo entered the room, greeted Xu Xuan and Lin Pingzhi, set down his belongings, and scooped himself a bowl of porridge.

The moment he sat, both Xu Xuan and Lin Pingzhi wrinkled their noses in unison.

There was a sour odor clinging to Lin Luo, potent enough to cover any trace of wrongdoing.

“Father, what’s that sour smell on you?”

Lin Pingzhi sniffed the air, puzzled.

“It’s the scent of green tangerine. On my way home, I saw an old man selling them by the roadside and bought a few on impulse.”

“Green tangerines are excellent—refreshing, beautifying, clearing heat and quenching thirst. I love them.”

To make himself more convincing, Lin Luo actually took out a green tangerine, peeled it, and forced himself to eat it, despite the sharp tang.

Xu Xuan couldn’t help the sour taste rising in his mouth. He thought to himself, “Brother-in-law is really going all out to maintain his persona.”

But the true value of green tangerine was left unsaid: it could mask the scent of any mischief.

After all, women seemed born with the nose of a hound. A single hint, and they could piece together the whole story, uncovering every secret.

In this regard, all women could be considered as sharp as Di Renjie, Song Ci, or Detective Conan.

Watching Lin Luo’s odd expression as he forced down the tangerine, both Xu Xuan and Lin Pingzhi silently raised their middle fingers in their hearts.

Devoted Lin Luo? Nonsense!

The three finished breakfast in good spirits. Xu Xuan first went to the academy to ask his teacher for leave—he needed to go to West Mountain to deal with the troublesome Lord Bear.

Xu Xuan was an excellent student, so the teacher readily granted his request.

Leave granted, Xu Xuan made his way to the City God Temple, the most revered shrine in Wuliu County.

Lord Bear had cultivated for hundreds of years; dealing with such a demon would not be easy.

To ensure nothing went wrong, Xu Xuan planned to seek help from his own master, hoping to obtain some means of self-preservation.

Before long, he arrived at the sprawling temple complex—green bricks and red tiles, halls rising in succession.

Scarlet gates welcomed a constant stream of worshippers, all coming to seek blessings and offer prayers.

He passed through the courtyard wall, where a towering, lush ginkgo tree spread its branches, heavy with red prayer tags and scented sachets, bending under their weight.

In front of the main hall stood a massive incense burner, its fragrant smoke curling upward; thick sticks of sandalwood incense still burned within.

Carrying a roasted duck, Xu Xuan made straight for an elderly man sweeping the courtyard.

The old man wore coarse hemp robes, his hair white and his back slightly stooped. His face was a map of wrinkles, and when he smiled, two missing front teeth showed.

“Young master, what brings you here today?” the old man greeted him, visibly delighted.

“Uncle Fu, this is for you.”

Seeing him, Xu Xuan warmly handed over the roast duck.

“You’re too kind, young master.”

Uncle Fu received the gift with joy, his wrinkled face blooming into a flower.

Uncle Fu was the temple keeper. In his youth, he had met the City God Himself and received His blessing—he knew well who Xu Xuan was.

Hence, he greeted Xu Xuan as “young master.”

After some friendly conversation, Uncle Fu accompanied Xu Xuan into the main hall of the City God Temple.

At the center stood a statue of the City God, over ten feet tall, serene yet imposing, a gentle smile on his face. He wore golden robes, a red sash over his shoulders, a black-and-gold belt at his waist, and boots that stepped upon auspicious clouds.

Statues of the civil and military judges flanked him, adding to the hall’s solemn and mystical atmosphere.

Xu Xuan bowed deeply before the City God.

This deity had not only a celestial appointment but was also recognized by the emperor.

Xu Xuan’s master was the county’s City God, ranked fourth, ennobled as “Patron of the People and Guardian of the County.”

In life, Wuliu’s City God had been a famed scholar named Zhang Xian, who had passed away more than a century ago and was now enshrined and worshipped.

The imperial court had personally issued a decree for his enshrinement, making him the local City God, beloved by the people of Wuliu.

After paying his respects, Xu Xuan, led by Uncle Fu, entered a quiet chamber behind the main hall, where several yellow meditation mats were laid out.

Xu Xuan sat cross-legged on the central mat, closed his eyes, and let his spirit wander. Gradually, he drifted into a dream.

When he opened his eyes again and looked up, the sky above was as dark as ink.

Distant clouds shimmered with purple and green, like brocade on the twilight sky.

Nearby, shadowy halls loomed in the gloom, casting an eerie, soul-stirring presence.

Every visit to the City God’s Hall in the underworld sent a chill through Xu Xuan, cold enough to the bone, even if he was only there in spirit.

The City God Temple of the underworld was a reflection of its counterpart in the living world—almost identical in form, though one stood amid the vitality of the living, and the other in endless night.

Crossing the plaza before the halls, he encountered several ghostly attendants. They greeted Xu Xuan cheerfully, calling him “young master.”

He entered the main hall of the underworld’s City God Temple, where the various underworld spirits were busy at their tasks. On the high seat sat the City God, dressed in red official robes, pen in hand, reviewing case files.

As soon as Xu Xuan appeared, the hall’s occupants—fierce Ox-Head and Horse-Face, ghostly Black and White Impermanence, the grim Night and Day Patrols, and the stern civil and military judges—turned to look his way.