Chapter 11: When in Doubt, Die First  

Li Changsheng finally realized something.  

Feng Hui had every reason to hate him to the bone—after all, Li had killed him once. Logically, Feng should have seized the moment when Yu Qingjian and Zou Ji were absent to sneak into the Bureau of Tribulation Transference and take his life without anyone noticing.  

Yet that damned man had done nothing.  

It was like a predator catching its prey, only to crouch there with perverse delight, watching the terrified creature scurry about in panic. Each time the prey began to feel even slightly secure, the beast would lazily extend a claw to bat at it again.  

This Bone Dagger was Feng Hui’s “claw.”  

He could have ended Li Changsheng’s life outright, yet instead, he haunted him like a vengeful ghost, striking at him unpredictably with his Saber.  

Li Changsheng was patient, but even a clay figurine had its limits. After being toyed with repeatedly by Feng Hui, a spark of anger finally ignited within him. He strode forward, plucked the Bone Dagger from the wall without so much as a blink, and—  

“Hiss—”  

A sound like a serpent’s flickering tongue. The Bone Dagger trembled violently, as if boiling, struggling to burrow into Li Changsheng’s waist. But it was mercilessly flung back into the Yellow Springs once more.  

He wanted to see—could this dagger made of bones really kill him?  

*Plop.*  

Silence at last.  

As Li Changsheng discarded the dagger, the man who had saved him leaned lazily against the wall, watching him intently. Only then did he finally speak. “That was quite dangerous just now, Director Li.”  

Li Changsheng suddenly remembered he hadn’t properly thanked his savior. He turned and nodded. “Thank you for saving me.”  

The man didn’t respond, as if waiting for something.  

Li Changsheng’s gratitude was worth its weight in gold—four thousand Spirit Stones’ worth, given generously. Then, with impeccable courtesy, he stepped forward, intending to find Yu Qingjian and ask about the sinister Bone Dagger.  

The man’s eyes darkened slightly. His towering frame shifted half a step to the side, just enough to block Li Changsheng’s path.  

Li Changsheng, slow to react, bumped straight into his chest. “Mm.”  

An amused voice drifted down from above him. “Is this how Director Li repays a debt? A life saved, dismissed with just four words?”  

Li Changsheng looked up at him, puzzled.  

Still couldn’t see his face, but judging by his tone, he was likely another money-grubber like Yu Qingjian.  

“Very well.” Li Changsheng never sought conflict, especially not with someone who had genuinely saved him. He replied amiably, “Then what would you like as repayment, sir?”  

The man smiled, gazing down at him. The moonlight cast his shadow diagonally over Li Changsheng, enveloping him like a seamless embrace.  

He said lightly, “That depends on how much Director Li’s life is worth.”  

*Ah, definitely a money-grubber*, Li Changsheng thought.  

“In the Four Cities Ghost Market, the bounty on my head is worth a hundred thousand Spirit Stones,” Li Changsheng suggested. “How about this—you tie me up, deliver me to the Nether Palace, and hand me over to the ferocious Sealed Palace Master in exchange for a mountain of Spirit Stones. Once he slits my throat, you can take the money and squander it however you please. Would that suffice as repayment for saving my life?”  

The man: “…………”  

After a moment of silence, the man chuckled. “Director Li truly has a silver tongue.”  

Li Changsheng: “Thank you—sir, may I go now?”  

The man raised a brow, clearly dissatisfied with such a perfunctory show of gratitude. His massive frame remained unmoving, his posture silently answering, *No.*  

Li Changsheng arched an eyebrow at him, then suddenly stepped forward, closing the distance between them to barely a fist’s width.  

He was ready to force his way through.

The man stood motionless, his face as dark as water, staring fixedly at Li Changsheng with eyes so cold they carried an almost fearsome aggression.  

Li Changsheng didn’t even blink, taking another half-step forward.  

Though frail and sickly, Director Li was undeniably a living, breathing man. The warmth of his body was like a spring breeze melting winter snow as he closed in on the ghostly figure who had been cold for centuries.  

The man’s ghostly pupils silently narrowed into icy slits.  

Just as Li Changsheng was nearly pressed against his chest, the man seemed repulsed by his proximity and abruptly sidestepped, clearing a path in the narrow corridor.  

Li Changsheng had anticipated this. The corner of his lips curled as he strode forward without hesitation.  

The man frowned deeply and called out coldly, “Li Changsheng.”  

Li Changsheng turned to look at him, his back to the bright moon, bathed in silver light as if imbued with an untouchable divinity.  

The man stared at him expressionlessly for a long moment.  

Just as Li Changsheng thought he was finally about to demand repayment for saving his life, the man spoke coldly, “Saving a life is no small matter. How can you be so dismissive, not even asking for a name?”  

Li Changsheng: “?”  

Li Changsheng hadn’t expected the man to make such a modest demand. After a brief pause, he obliged, “Then may I ask the hero’s esteemed name?”  

The hero looked at him impassively. “Ming Ji.”  

Li Changsheng let out a thoughtful hum.  

That name sounded so familiar.  

Yet he couldn’t recall where he’d heard it before.  

But that didn’t stop him from responding earnestly, “The hero’s name is unforgettable. I will surely remember your life-saving grace in the future.”  

Ming Ji stared at him for a long while. Despite the sweet, flattering words, he seemed displeased, his face darkening as he turned and left with a flick of his sleeve.  

Li Changsheng watched the man’s retreating figure in confusion.  

Hadn’t he thanked him and asked for his name? Why was he even angrier than before?  

Were all people in the Nether Capital this strange?  

He took a few steps forward, only for that unsettling gaze to latch onto him again, clinging like a shadow, more chilling than the Bone Dagger.  

Who was watching him?  

That Ming Ji?  

But he clearly looked down on him, unwilling to even touch him.  

Li Changsheng had an exceptional ability to adapt. Since he couldn’t catch the culprit, he forced himself to ignore the sticky, suffocating sensation of being watched.  

The method worked. Soon, he paid no more attention to the serpent-like gaze and made his way upstairs, finding Yu Qingjian leaning against the railing.  

Yu Qingjian was scribbling something on a talisman with a brush, not even glancing up at the sound of footsteps.  

“After much deliberation, those Soul Retrievers have decided to honor the Director as the Nether Capital’s most venomous beauty. Next year’s Three Realms Dao Inquiry Assembly, they’ll send you to compete with the Three Realms’ top beauty.”  

Li Changsheng: “?”  

Li Changsheng barely registered it as a compliment and generously offered two thousand gold. “Thanks.”  

Most people expressed gratitude sincerely, but for him, it seemed like a habitual phrase tossed out without a second thought—utterly devoid of sincerity.  

Yu Qingjian shot him a glance. “Does the Director have a way to infiltrate the Tantai Manor?”  

“Money moves even ghosts,” Li Changsheng said. “Around the Ghost Festival, Tantai Manor holds a grand ceremony. With the crowd so mixed, it’ll be easy to slip in under a different identity.”  

Yu Qingjian smirked. “The Director is quite experienced.”  

Li Changsheng replied modestly, “I have no special skills, just a practiced hand.”  

Yu Qingjian: “…”  

Who exactly was praising you?  

The lanterns cast a dim glow, the candlelight flickering upward onto Li Changsheng’s face.

Yu Qingjian’s mind stirred slightly, unable to resist asking: “The surname Li is rare. Though you’re a mortal, you were chosen by the Heavenly Dao. With such a special status, your origins must be extraordinary.”

Li Changsheng could tell Yu Qingjian was fishing for information.  

Six years ago, when he was rescued from the moat of Nanyuan City, he had suffered a head injury. During his initial recovery, he was often in a daze, and after healing, his memory became terribly unreliable. Remembering his name as “Li Changsheng” was already an achievement.  

The surname “Li” was unusual, and he had once gone to the Guihan Sect to search for his origins—yet found nothing.  

Li Changsheng wasn’t particularly close to Yu Qingjian and didn’t feel like revealing his amnesia, so he decided to spin a tale instead.  

“I was abandoned by my parents as a child. Fortunately, I was raised by a foster father. But later, he coveted my beauty and tried to force me into becoming his Dao companion. Such an act was immoral and violated natural order. I refused, fearing divine retribution, so I fled.”  

Yu Qingjian: “???”  

Yu Qingjian had been engraving the official dispatch for their trip to Nanyuan City onto a talisman to send to his deputy. At these words, his brush slipped, and the entire talisman burst into flames.  

Ignoring the burn on his fingertips, he gaped in shock: “Wh-what?!”  

A foster father? And immoral?!  

It sounded like something straight out of a sensational novel, yet coming from Li Changsheng’s lips, Yu Qingjian found himself bizarrely convinced.  

Unable to resist, he pressed: “And then?”  

“Then I fled to Nanyuan and barely scraped by selling talismans and performing rituals.”  

Li Changsheng sometimes wondered if his habit of lying had brought divine retribution upon him, making him the so-called “chosen one” of the Heavenly Dao.  

Yu Qingjian let out an impressed “tsk.”  

Humans were truly depraved.  

Though he had wasted a talisman, the entertainment made up for it. Uncharacteristically, he didn’t bother picking up the discarded scraps from the ground and simply grabbed a fresh sheet to write on.  

Li Changsheng sat beside him, remembering why he had sought Yu Qingjian in the first place.  

“Did you get a good look at the bone dagger at my waist when we met?”  

Yu Qingjian, absorbed in drawing talismans, replied absentmindedly: “Not really. Why?”  

“I had thrown that thing into the Yellow Springs, but just now, it relentlessly caught up to me again.” Li Changsheng propped his chin on his hand. “Do you know what kind of sorcery or formation could do this?”  

“I’m not well-versed in formations, but I can ask the deputy in a few days.” Yu Qingjian paused mid-stroke, frowning as if recalling something. “You did secure the bone dagger after it returned, right?”  

Li Changsheng, lazily shuffling through the talisman papers, froze: “Hm?”  

By now, Yu Qingjian was well-acquainted with Li Changsheng’s knack for trouble. He ruined yet another talisman and said gravely, “The boat has reached the boundary between yin and yang. Though we’re still in the Yellow Springs, the Nether Capital’s formations no longer suppress this area. Countless fragmented souls from millennia past lurk beneath the water, devouring and battling. Foreign objects must not enter lightly, or else—”  

Before he could finish, the entire boat lurched violently, as if enormous creatures were surging upward from the depths.  

Li Changsheng staggered, nearly falling, and barely steadied himself by grabbing Yu Qingjian’s arm.  

“What was that?”  

“Fragmented Corpse-Eaters.” Yu Qingjian rubbed his temples in exasperation. He swiftly gathered the ruined talisman scraps and stuffed them into his sleeve. “They love feasting on ghosts.”  

Li Changsheng: “Ah.”

Yu Qingjian hauled him to a corner to keep him from falling into the water, glaring coldly. “Don’t get complacent—no living soul has crossed the Yellow Springs in eight hundred years. They’ve likely caught your scent and are coming for you. You’re their favorite meal.”

Li Changsheng: “…”

“Stay here.” Yu Qingjian flicked a talismanic incantation, and several small paper figures floated midair, hand in hand, forming a circle around Li Changsheng. “Don’t leave this spot.”

With that, he hurried downstairs and shouted, “Zou Ji—!”

Zou Ji appeared instantly, flipping down from the boat’s roof with a cheerful “Hey!” His long saber ignited with spirit energy, blazing amidst golden sparks as he laughed wildly. “Fragmented Corpse-Eaters! Perfect, I’m eating these!”

Yu Qingjian roared over the shrieks of the Soul Retrievers, “You can’t eat filthy things!”

“Hahaha!”

Li Changsheng: “…”

The boat rocked violently as the Soul Retrievers strained to row with oars untouched for millennia. But the vessel was too decrepit—the oars snapped the moment they touched the Yellow Springs.

Soul Retrievers: “…”

We’re doomed.

Li Changsheng tried to peek, but the paper figures, like living creatures, clasped hands to block him, chirping in unison.

“Circle, circle, circle.”

The Fragmented Corpse-Eaters seemed to surge to the surface. A piercing, wailing shriek—as if ten thousand ghosts were mourning—assaulted Li Changsheng’s ears, plunging his vision into darkness.

His divine soul felt misaligned within his body.

When he regained consciousness, the paper figures huddled around him, their crudely drawn eyes seemingly weeping as they chattered, “Dead, dead, dead?!”

Li Changsheng: “…”

Rubbing his temples, Li Changsheng soothed them gently, “Not dead. Barely alive, but still here. Don’t be afraid.”

The paper figures paused, then resumed their whimpering circles around him.

Definitely the Bureau of Tribulation Transference’s style.

During his blackout, Zou Ji seemed still locked in battle with the Fragmented Corpse-Eaters. The sounds of clashing and flames roaring reached the second deck.

The Soul Retrievers were wailing too.

“Lord Zou Ji, we never should’ve charged you extra fare! We’ll withdraw the petition to the Nether Capital Vault to dock your thirty taels of silver!”

“Lord Zou Ji is mighty!”

“Save us, my lord!”

BOOM!

Another violent tremor. Li Changsheng clung desperately to the railing as the entire boat tilted sideways. His world spun, his vision flipping upside down.

His weakened right hand lost its grip, and he tumbled overboard, still wrapped in the paper figures.

Li Changsheng’s pupils shrank. He barely caught the railing with his left hand.

But it was too late.

Half his body dangled over the increasingly turbulent Yellow Springs.

At the boundary between yin and yang, the Yellow Springs merged with Nan Yuan’s moat, forming a murky dividing line.

Struggling, Li Changsheng tried to raise his right hand to climb back up. His sleeve slid down, revealing an old scar on his wrist—as if his hand had once been severed clean off.

The gruesome sight made his fingers tremble, useless.

Gasping, Li Changsheng felt his left hand slipping inch by inch.

Then, a voice spoke coolly above him.

“Director Li, enjoying the view?”

Li Changsheng froze and looked up.

Perched casually on the railing of the half-capsized boat, Ming Ji loomed tall, his gaze lazily amused as he regarded Li Changsheng’s predicament.

Li Changsheng’s lips parted slightly.

The man crossed his arms, showing no intention of reaching out to save him. Looking down with detached calmness, he said, “Director Li, have you figured out what you should say to your savior?”

Li Changsheng: “…”

Who knew he’d hold such a grudge.

Li Changsheng was adaptable—exceptionally skilled at admitting mistakes and offering thanks. He opened his mouth, ready to spew a stream of placating words.

Just then, the boat finally passed through the boundary between yin and yang.

The enormous bright moon twisted and transformed into a morning sun on the horizon. Its light swept across like a dividing line, illuminating the entire vessel as if under a spell. The dilapidated wooden debris and ashes faded inch by inch, morphing into a brightly lit pleasure barge.

It was the hour of Chen, and the lake was shrouded in mist.

The morning sun slanted through the barge’s latticed windows, casting beams of light onto the fog. The reflections resembled a colossal creature with countless legs, crawling forward inch by inch.

Li Changsheng looked up at Ming Ji.

The Magical Artifact disguising the man’s face flickered faintly in the sunlight. For a fleeting moment, Ming Ji’s true features were revealed before the blue jade bead silently rotated, concealing his face once more.

Li Changsheng’s pupils dilated imperceptibly.

That face…

“Haha.” Despite being on the brink of death, Li Changsheng actually laughed twice.

Damn it all—this man was Feng Hui.

Ming Ji was his courtesy name.

Li Changsheng chuckled twice more. Whether his left hand had completely lost strength or he simply sought a quicker way to die, he suddenly let go. His body plummeted like a bird with broken wings, straight into the raging river.

Death first, questions later.

Feng Hui: “……..”

Author’s Note:

Feng Hui: When will my disguise last for more than two chapters?