This truly somewhat subverted my understanding.
First was the jurisdiction of the Underworld and the whole soul-snatching procedure.
According to the legends I knew, when a person passed away, ghost guards were supposed to escort them to the Earth Temple to have their name struck from the ledger of the living, after which they would make the long trek with the ghost guards to Fengdu Ghost City.
There, they would check in and then return home to bid a final farewell to their loved ones—this was the "first seventh day"—and from then on, that person would have no further ties to the world of the living.
The living had the lives of the living, and the departed should not linger on, but instead embark on a new beginning.
Yet in her account, there was no such thing as an Earth Temple; instead, the soul was directly hooked by a ghost guard, sent before a Judge of Hell for a trial, and then told to go about their business.
Although I felt the procedure was relatively simplified, it still seemed quite reasonable.
Truth be told, in all sorts of ghost and deity novels, just to highlight how extraordinarily powerful the protagonist is, whenever they go down to the Underworld they start off conversing directly with the Ten Courts of Hell, and at the slightest disagreement they threaten to turn the Underworld upside down.
Of course, let us not even mention Sun Wukong or Emperor Taizong's tour of the Underworld.
As leaders, how could the Ten Courts of Hell handle every little matter themselves? With so many ghosts, there was simply no way they could try them all; naturally, certain tasks had to be assigned to those beneath them.
On the other hand, there was the family that adopted her—how utterly venomous their intentions were!
The so-called ghost marriage, also known as a "nether marriage" or "spirit marriage."
In my view, this was merely wishful thinking on the part of the ancients.
The ancients believed that after a person passed away, they would continue living in another world, so they should still get married just as they would in life.
This notion ran counter to the doctrine of reincarnation and transmigration. After all, mortals are not saints, and who is without faults? There is a high probability that after death, people go down to hell to suffer punishment.
From being hooked by a ghost guards to trial and imprisonment, washing away the sins of the past life, one must immediately go to be reincarnated—when would there ever be time for you to live a life in another world?
Someone might argue: wasn't Shen Xuanrou assigned to the City of Wrongful Deaths, too?
Oh, come on, my friend. The City of Wrongful Deaths is a place that houses ghosts who did not die of natural causes; its nature is akin to a prison in our world. Could you possibly bring your whole family along, draped in gold and silver, enjoying a bowl of dough drop soup in prison every single day?
Of course, this kind of talk might also be propagated by charlatans and swindlers who, in order to extort money, go around bluffing and scaring people by claiming things like dying unmarried and having an unfulfilled life—that without a ghost marriage, the household would know no peace, and so on.
Usually, when ordinary families arranged a ghost marriage, it was between two deceased individuals, decided by the parents of both sides, followed by a wedding ceremony and joint burial in the same grave, and the match was considered made.
There were also those of impoverished backgrounds who could find no one willing to enter a ghost marriage, or who could not afford bones, yet remained bound by these superstitions, driving them to violate other people's tombs.
Yet the family that actually adopted her wanted to use a living person for a ghost marriage—this act was truly something I found difficult to accept.
It made me feel rather unsettled, especially considering how I had been congratulating myself earlier that she had at least fallen in regard with a good family.
At this thought, I let out a soft sigh, casually picked up the teacup on the table, took a sip, and asked, "Later on, logically speaking, shouldn't you have been waiting in the City of Wrongful Deaths for reincarnation?"
"What happened in between that caused you to return to the human world instead?"
She shook her head gently and said nothing.
I was taken aback. Oh right, I had finished my tea and needed to refill the cup immediately.
Just as I was about to stand up, she stopped me.
I heard her say, "If the young master wishes to listen, we can continue the story next time. The night is already deep..."
Huh?
What was the meaning of this?When I was little, people often told stories. The one that left the deepest impression on me was Nie Xiaoqian from Strange Tales from a Chinese Studio, who was kept by an old ghost and specialized in feeding on men's vital essence.
Ghosts like that are generally called rakshasas, or essence-devouring ghosts, and they make a living specifically by feeding on the vital essence of men.
When a ghost feeds on vital essence, they always have to engage in carnal union first, making the person lose themselves in an ocean of pleasure, sinking forever until they wake up only to realize they have already reached the Underworld.
If you happen to run into a more vicious one, I'm afraid even your soul would end up as nourishment.
No way! Could she possibly be trying to suck away my yang energy?
Thinking of this, I couldn't help taking two steps back, panic gripping my heart.
We had been talking so nicely, so how come in the end I still couldn't escape the fate of dying from exhausted vital breath?
Seeing me standing there in a daze, she couldn't help asking with curiosity, "Young master, what is wrong?"
"Could it be that my nether energy is too heavy, making young master feel uncomfortable?"
I shook my head hurriedly, like a rattling drum, and said, "No, no, it's just that you mentioned how late the night is..."
She suddenly smiled brightly, as if a beautiful flower had blossomed across her face. Seeming to feel she wasn't modest enough, she raised a hand to cover half her face, her eyes holding a meaningful yet playful smile.
"Could young master have misunderstood me? I meant that since the night is deep, shouldn't young master rest? After all, staying up late hurts the body."
Ah, so that's what she meant!
I breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly explained, "No, nothing like that. I—I just, I also felt it was getting too late."
She didn't speak, just looked at me and smiled, making me so awkward I wanted to scratch open the floor and crawl inside.
With that smile finished, she stood up, gave a bow, and said, "Young master, please take care of your health. After all, I am a body of nether cold, and staying with young master for too long tends to affect young master's vitality and spirit."
"Let's end it here for today, and another day I shall come to gather with young master again."
As she spoke, maintaining that posture, she slowly retreated backward and then vanished into the wall.
I let out a long breath, sat blankly for a while longer, then tidied up the room, put the lid back on the box containing the magical artifact, pushed it back under the bed, and went to use the restroom to get ready for sleep.
While in the restroom, I happened to take a look in the mirror. Just as she had said, spending too much time with her really did affect one's vitality and spirit.
My dark circles were extremely heavy—different from the kind caused by staying up late, they looked more like the greenish-black of a life nearing its end.
Good grief, I had only met her twice, and this time was even shorter than before, yet my body was already this weak.
However, through this encounter, I also saw clearly that she truly harbored no ill intentions toward me. This made me feel somewhat guilty; I actually went and thought about her in *that* way, which was truly uncalled for.
I splashed cold water on my face, then went back to bed to lie down, yet I couldn't fall asleep no matter what.
I had thought tonight would be another night of talking until dawn, but because of my physical condition, this conversation had been cut short.
It felt just like enjoying a wonderful work: right at the most engrossing and exhilarating part, you turn to the next page only to find it says the author has not updated yet, leaving you itching with frustration.
But I quickly comforted myself. After all, there are plenty of days ahead, aren't there? The stories could be heard slowly, but preserving my little life was what mattered most.
In the days that followed, I gradually let my studies slide, looking forward every single day to meeting her. As for her, she slowly began to tell me her past stories one by one, and a bond gradually formed between a mortal and a ghost.
Of course, this was purely friendship.