Chapter Twenty-One: Playing the Fool to Catch the Tiger

Luo Longyu sat alone in the burial chamber, spending four days carefully pondering the notes on the Corpse Path, as well as the history of those who had followed it through the ages. According to the manual, only two people in history had truly inherited the Corpse Path. One was Ba, daughter of Xuanyuan, and the other was a mysterious figure whose name was unknown—no one could even confirm if he was from the Xuanyuan clan; he was known only by a single character: Di.

Di, in the Chinese lexicon, signifies the highest authority; for someone to bear this name was no small matter, especially in the rigidly hierarchical ancient times. Because legend held that only those of Xuanyuan blood could inherit the Corpse Path, the manual referred to this person as the Xuanyuan Sovereign, differing by just one character from the Yellow Emperor himself.

Regrettably, the Xuanyuan Sovereign’s origins were unknown, as was his fate. He seemed to have appeared out of nowhere and vanished just as mysteriously, leaving no great deeds recorded—perhaps simply lost to history. All in all, he was shrouded in enigma.

After four days, the female ghost finally stirred, though she remained weak, her spectral form dim and faint.

“Are you all right?” Luo Longyu asked, putting away the manual as he watched her awaken.

She shook her head, then looked Luo Longyu over and said, “As long as the Divine Child is safe, I am at ease.”

Luo Longyu shook his head. “I’m no divine child. My name is Luo Longyu. Just call me Longyu from now on. By the way, I don’t even know your name yet.”

“Zi Ye—Hua Ziye,” she replied.

“Hua Ziye… what an evocative name. I have to ask, why have you saved me again and again?” he voiced the question that weighed on his mind.

Hua Ziye smiled faintly. “Because you are the son of Lady Qianqian. I was once in her debt.”

“Oh? What debt? Didn’t you say before that, because of my mother, you and all the other wandering souls were suppressed? How could you be indebted to her?”

Hua Ziye fell silent for a moment before replying, “Divine—cough—there’s something you don’t know. Eighteen years ago, Lady Qianqian first appeared at Nine Dragons Village. She spoke with the ghosts within a hundred-mile radius, myself among them. She could have easily destroyed us, but she did not. Instead, she sent us onto the path of reincarnation. At the time, Lady Qianqian was soon to give birth, yet she expended her divine power to build the way for us. I am deeply grateful.”

“Then… why are you still in the mortal world?” Luo Longyu frowned.

Hua Ziye shook her head. “It no longer exists.”

“What no longer exists?”

“The Underworld has ceased to exist,” Hua Ziye said, so startling Luo Longyu that he was left speechless.

“Uh…” Luo Longyu hesitated for several seconds. “What do you mean? I don’t understand. What do you mean it doesn’t exist?”

Hua Ziye pondered a long while, as if struggling to find words. At last, she said, “I can’t explain it clearly. After death, especially after nearly becoming a vengeful ghost, some things are hard to remember—without a living brain, after all. Anyway, I followed the Yellow Springs Road, but after leaving the mortal world, it simply ended—before me was a deep abyss whose bottom I could not see. Some ghosts tried to fly across, but were sucked into the depths, their screams terrible to hear. Through the thin ghostly mist, I could just make out a high terrace, which must have been the legendary Terrace of Longing for Home, but most of it was in ruins. The rest was obscured.”

Luo Longyu was shaken by her tale and thought for a moment before asking, “Is it possible… the Underworld just moved somewhere else?”

“What do you mean?” Hua Ziye looked at him, puzzled.

“Ah…” Luo Longyu felt awkward. “You see, the legend of the Underworld hasn’t changed through the ages, but the human world has been utterly transformed by technology. Maybe the Underworld isn’t like the old tales anymore?” He was so embarrassed because he felt as if he were making things up.

To his surprise, Hua Ziye considered his words, then nodded slowly. “Yes… that makes sense, that makes sense indeed. The Divine Child is worthy of the title—how did I not think of that?”

Luo Longyu offered a sheepish smile, at a loss for words. After a moment, he asked, “So, what do you plan to do now?”

Hua Ziye thought for a while, her expression growing dim. “I don’t know. In my state, where could I go? A ghost forced to remain in the world can last at most a few centuries before vanishing. I have already passed a hundred years. Perhaps I should follow you. When you are powerful enough, perhaps you, like Lady Qianqian, could open the Gate of Reincarnation, and I could seek the Underworld and be reborn.”

“Follow me?” Luo Longyu looked at her and gave a wry smile. “You saw how things went—I’m already at odds with the entire Mystic Arts Pavilion, practically an enemy of the state. Though I would never betray my country, still…”

“It’s all right. You are Lady Qianqian’s son. I heard what they said—you are the world’s only hope. You won’t lose,” Hua Ziye replied, brimming with confidence before he could finish.

Luo Longyu shook his head. “It’s not that simple. It’s not about winning or losing. How can I put this—I am Chinese. Even if I walk the Corpse Path, I am still my country’s Corpse Walker. If the nation seeks my destruction, how could I survive? Would you have me fight our soldiers to the death? I couldn’t do it—and I don’t think my mother would agree.”

“Is the nation truly that important?” Hua Ziye asked, clearly perplexed.

Luo Longyu gazed at her. She had been dead for over a century, a time when the concept of nationhood did not yet exist for most people, so her confusion was understandable.

“All I can say is, if you follow me, it will be a path of near-certain death,” Luo Longyu said.

Hua Ziye looked at him. “Without the road to reincarnation, I will vanish regardless. With you, at least there is hope.”

“Luo Longyu! Luo Longyu!” Just as he was about to reply, a voice called from outside the tomb, startling them both.

Hua Ziye drifted before him. “They caught up so quickly? They are truly skilled.”

Luo Longyu smiled. “The Mystic Arts Pavilion’s abilities are far beyond ours. Together, we would hardly make a difference. Let’s go—if they can find us, there’s no point hiding.” He slung the battered paper umbrella on his back, where Hua Ziye took refuge, and left the tomb.

Emerging from the ruined burial chamber, Luo Longyu climbed out into the dusk. The last rays of the setting sun bathed the hillside, half-buried, crooked gravestones obscured by earth, their inscriptions unreadable. Clearly, this grave was old. The place he exited was a thieves’ tunnel.

Turning, he saw a woman in red standing atop a weathered stone by the tunnel’s mouth. Her hair cascaded like silk, a red mark graced her brow like a fateful stroke, her eyes clear as springs, ethereal and otherworldly, her skin fairer than frost or snow, radiating a gentle glow—so beautiful Luo Longyu was momentarily entranced.

He quickly recovered, speaking slowly: “You’re not from the Mystic Arts Pavilion.”

“Oh? Do I look like one of them?” The woman glanced at herself.

Realizing she was not an enemy from the Pavilion, Luo Longyu grew wary. “Then who are you? No—wait, you’re not even human. You’re a demon.”

The woman inspected him up and down, her delicate finger tapping her lips. “Hmm… not bad. You noticed so quickly.”

“What, are you here to avenge Qu Feng?” Luo Longyu’s lips curled into a cold smile, a hint of killing intent rising in the air.

Sensing his hostility, the woman quickly raised her hands. “Hey, hey, wait! I didn’t come to fight. I’m here to deliver a message.”

“There’s nothing to discuss with the likes of you. My mother’s body—you demons stole it!” The rage at the theft of his mother’s corpse surged anew, his anger flaring.

The woman’s expression darkened at his words, her pretty face clouded. She pointed at him. “Luo Longyu, you go too far! The situation is unclear, why do you—ugh!”

Before she could finish, Luo Longyu’s eyes blazed with a fierce s