Chapter Seventy-Two: One’s True Duty

At that moment, the Yellow Spring Token on Xu Cheng’s body began to glow with a gentle yellow light. There was no warning, no message that appeared, which left him puzzled—what was happening?

At the same time, the Ghost Judge Token in Chrysanthemum’s hand, as well as the Ghost Messenger Tokens held by Cen Ningyue and Niu Dashuang, all began to emit soft silver rays, identical to the moonlight.

“Lord Right Envoy, what is going on?” Chrysanthemum hurriedly asked.

“I do not know. We have never seen such a situation before,” Xu Cheng replied calmly with a slight shake of his head.

“Xu Cheng, look!” Yan Mengdie pointed into the distance, where a figure seemed to be approaching them.

Drawing closer, the figure’s movements were ethereal and drifting. When he was near enough, Xu Cheng saw that it was not a living person, but a ghost.

A soul that merges with its own body or with another’s to become something monstrous is called a ghost.

“Who are you?” Xu Cheng asked. At the same time, the light from the Yellow Spring Token in his hand grew even brighter.

“I am Chen Qiusheng, an old man. I suppose you all must be the legendary Ghost Messengers?” The old man cupped his hands in greeting as he spoke.

“That’s right, we are Ghost Messengers,” Xu Cheng replied, studying him closely. An ordinary soul, once separated from the body, would be guided to the Yellow Springs unless bound by obsession or great grievance. The person before him was clearly a soul that had lingered in the human world for some time. Xu Cheng then asked, “Why have you stayed in the mortal world?”

“It’s a long story. I originally lived in the house below, but after several cultivators came, they forcibly took over my residence. Not only that, but they killed my entire household—thirty-six people, including servants and maids. Because of this deep obsession, I remained in the world, yet dared not approach them, only observing from a distance.

I never thought I would witness the day of their deaths. Now, my heart is at peace, and I wish to go to the Yellow Springs. Following a mysterious guidance, I have come before you, honored sirs.” Chen Qiusheng recounted his tale.

Xu Cheng understood: it was his obsession that kept him in the world of the living, but now that it had dissipated, the Token was guiding him, or Chrysanthemum and the others, to open the path to the Yellow Springs so that Chen Qiusheng could return and enter the cycle of reincarnation.

“Where is the Ghost Judge?” Xu Cheng asked gravely.

Chrysanthemum, startled, suddenly remembered he was the judge. Having spent so much time cultivating, he had nearly forgotten his main duty. He immediately replied, “I am here!”

He then opened the Record of Life and Death. Golden characters floated above the book as he read aloud, “Chen Qiusheng, lived eighty-nine years, perished by human harm. Merit: one hundred and one; sin: one hundred and one. Merit and sin offset; permitted to enter the cycle of reincarnation!”

“Elder, as you are about to reincarnate, do you have anything else to say?” Xu Cheng asked Chen Qiusheng after hearing this.

“No! To be able to enter the cycle of reincarnation again, I am already content! Thank you, Ghost Messengers!” Chen Qiusheng bowed three times in gratitude.

“That is well. But are you the only ghost here?” Xu Cheng asked casually before opening the gate to the Yellow Springs.

“Honored Ghost Messenger, please see clearly. Originally, there were more than a dozen like me in this town, but starting half a month ago, some have been disappearing one after another. In the end, only I remained. This is a strange matter, and I hope you will investigate!” Chen Qiusheng said anxiously.

Xu Cheng pondered for a moment before replying, “I will look into this matter. For now, go and be reborn.”

With a wave of his hand, a black gate appeared before Xu Cheng, covered in ancient patterns. The door swung open, and chaotic auras swirled within.

“Yes, sir!” Chen Qiusheng responded, walking straight through the gate.

“Go on,” Xu Cheng waved, watching until Chen Qiusheng’s figure vanished entirely.

Silently reciting ‘reincarnation,’ Xu Cheng’s mind conjured the image of Chen Qiusheng passing through the Gate of Yellow Springs, swallowed by the black hole of rebirth until he disappeared without a trace.

Reincarnation—where one life ends, perhaps another begins.

Yet, where had the missing souls from the town gone?

The tangled mystery lingered in Xu Cheng’s mind. Yet thinking further was pointless; his spiritual sense had already swept every corner of the town, finding neither demons nor heretical cultivators.

Even though the situation was strange, Xu Cheng had no solution.

They rested in the courtyard through the night.

Yesterday, spring winds carried fine rain through the small building; this morning, sunlight filled the air.

The group’s next destination was Qinghe Town, still some distance from White Tiger Town. They turned into streaks of light and made their way directly to Qinghe.

Within the old temple of the town, Xu Cheng activated the guiding power of the Yellow Spring Token, calling any remaining souls.

After last night’s events, he had discovered this marvelous function of the Token.

Sure enough, after a while, “people” began to appear.

Five of them came, though their forms were far less human than Chen Qiusheng’s. One had a knife embedded in his chest, another carried his head in his hand, a third was engulfed in flames, his body charred black as coal.

Xu Cheng shouted, “Why do you linger in the world of the living?”

At his words, the ghost chains in Chrysanthemum’s hands shot out, binding them all.

“I want the one who burned me to regret it!” cried the man wreathed in flames, sparks flying from his body.

“I am innocent, my lord! Why was I the one beheaded? Why?” wailed the severed head, streaming tears from its eyes.

“Why did Zhu Dachang kill me? We were such good friends!” the man with the knife in his chest howled at the sky.

It was a chaotic scene—every one of them a wronged spirit, difficult cases indeed.

Chrysanthemum stepped forward to resolve the matter, opening his Record of Life and Death. Golden words appeared as he approached the man consumed by flames and declared, “You, Xiao Yan, tried to seduce another man’s wife. In the quarrel, you overturned a brazier, were struck unconscious, and no one tried to save you. You died in an accidental fire! Merit: ten; sin: three hundred. Sentenced to the Mountain of Blades Hell for twenty years!”

He then turned to the man with the knife in his chest and said coldly, “You, Hong Juli, envied Zhu Dachang’s pork stall business and sold diseased pork yourself. Jealousy bred resentment, and you tried to murder Zhu Dachang, but were caught and killed by your own blade. No merit, sin: five hundred. Sentenced to the Sea of Flames Hell for fifty years!”

He next addressed the man holding his own head, “And you, Lu Jing, truly are innocent; you were framed as a scapegoat. Yet mortals must walk the path of men, and ghosts the path of the Yellow Springs. Why linger here? The one who should be punished will receive their due—Heaven’s net is vast and leaves nothing behind. Merit: thirty; no sin. You may enter the cycle and be born into a good family!”

Finally, he faced the silent brother and sister. “You two, Han Lin and Dao Cha, were cultivators of the Supreme Path, slain by a Yuan Shen realm cultivator of the Grand Xia dynasty who suddenly came to the town. You are unwilling to accept your fate and resist reincarnation. However, those who must be reborn will be reborn. Han Lin: merit, one hundred; sin, ten. Sentenced to reincarnation! Dao Cha: merit, three hundred; no sin. Sentenced to reincarnation!”

After Chrysanthemum finished, the ghosts before him fell silent. It seemed he was indeed a capable Ghost Judge.