Chapter 33

Seeking Him

“Impossible! This isn’t true! You must be mistaken! Qi Shanglan isn’t dead! He’s still alive! Please check again! I’m begging you… Please, save him… He’s completely unharmed, he’s clearly still alive…”

Lin Qianyou, her face covered in tears, clutched the doctor’s arm, sobbing and pleading.

The doctor sighed helplessly and once again gave her a definitive yet despairing response.

“Miss Lin, I understand how you feel, but the forensic examiner has already confirmed it. Officer Qi has no vital signs. You should inform his family as soon as possible. My condolences.”

After speaking, the doctor patted the back of her hand and walked away. Yet, there was one thing he couldn’t understand—Officer Qi was indeed dead, but they couldn’t determine the cause. Even the forensic examiner couldn’t find it. It was truly bizarre.

No matter what, they had done everything they could—CPR, defibrillation, intubation. They had tried it all. But the man on the hospital bed showed no signs of waking up.

After the doctor left the room, Lin Qianyou collapsed onto the cold floor with a dull thud.

“How could this happen…” She sobbed uncontrollably, unable to accept this reality. Just an hour ago, he had been sitting right next to her, so full of life. Just earlier, she had promised to marry him and get their marriage certificate.

But why? Why did fate have to take his life? He hadn’t done anything wrong…

Her eyes were swollen from crying. With trembling fingers, she picked up Qi Shanglan’s phone and entered her birthday.

The phone unlocked. A teardrop fell onto the screen, landing right on the part of the wallpaper where their lips touched.

Seeing this photo, Lin Qianyou broke down even more. She wiped away her tears from the screen and opened the contacts, dialing his mother’s number.

Every second waiting for the call to connect was torment. The short “beep, beep” sound nearly shattered her last bit of patience.

“Hello? Shanglan?” On the other end, Zou Ying picked up. But all she heard was a woman’s muffled sobs. “What’s wrong, Shanglan? Is someone crying? Is that Qianyou? Did you make her upset?”

Hearing her words, Lin Qianyou completely lost control and wept bitterly.

“Auntie, I—I’m Qianyou. Could you come to Lingchuan City People’s Hospital? Shanglan, he… he…”

She couldn’t bring herself to deliver such devastating news to a mother.

“What happened to him?” Zou Ying’s tone turned sharp with worry. “Did something happen to him?”

Lin Qianyou cried for a while longer before choking out, “Auntie, Shanglan had an accident while chasing the grave robbers. The doctor said he… he has no vital signs anymore… Please, you and Uncle need to come to the hospital…”

Finally forcing herself to say the words, she was met with silence on the other end of the line.

The silent call felt like thousands of ants gnawing at their hearts, an unbearable pain that left them speechless.

As soon as she hung up, Captain Zhang called.

“Hello? Did you catch those three grave robbers? There’s no sign of any suspicious vehicles leaving Lingchuan in the surveillance footage.” Captain Zhang stared at the monitor, speaking before he noticed Lin Qianyou’s muffled sobs.

“Hello? Qianyou? Why are you crying?” An ominous feeling crept into his heart. “Did something happen to Shanglan?”

“Uncle Zhang, c-could you come to Lingchuan City People’s Hospital now…”

—

At one o’clock in the morning, the Qi family and several officers from the police station, including Captain Zhang, finally arrived at the hospital.

“Shanglan!”

Zou Ying rushed into the hospital room, heading straight for the bed. She almost fell when her thigh hit the bed frame. Lin Qianyou hurried forward to support her, both of them sobbing.

She stepped aside from the hospital bed to make room for them. But unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere in the ward, she suddenly rushed out, crouching on the ground, burying her head in her arms, and sobbing uncontrollably.

Everything happened too suddenly—too bizarrely. Qi Shanglan’s body had no visible wounds, so why had he ended up like this?

Her swollen eyelids, buried between her knees, suddenly lifted. In an instant, Lin Qianyou realized something was wrong.

The doctors couldn’t even determine the cause of death, yet they declared him dead. But how could he have died for no reason? He was so strong—he could lift a full-grown man with one hand. There was no way he would die so easily!

She had to get to the bottom of this. She refused to believe that Qi Shanglan was just gone like that.

But how? Even the doctors couldn’t find an answer—how could she? Where could she even start?

Panic surged within her. Then suddenly, she remembered something.

Without hesitation, she pulled out her phone and booked the earliest flight to Yang City that day.

—

Yang City, Chengdong Earth Temple.

Lin Qianyou sprinted through the dark, narrow alleyway and forcefully pushed open the temple doors, bursting inside.

“Ah Fu! Ah Fu, come out now!” she shouted.

Ah Fu poked its head out from the temple hall, speaking in a soft voice, “Great deity, what brings you here?”

“Take me to the Underworld!” she commanded.

Ah Fu was confused. “Why does the Great deity wish to go to the Underworld? Meng Po did not notify me of any human mistakenly entering today.”

“I said there is one, so there is one!” Lin Qianyou broke down again, sobbing. Realizing she had lost control, she took a deep breath to steady herself before continuing, “It’s Qi Shanglan—he mistakenly entered the Underworld. Do you have a way to take me there? I have to bring him back…” Her voice trembled between sobs.

“The Divine Messenger? How could the Divine Messenger have mistakenly entered the Underworld?” Ah Fu still had no idea what had happened.

“I’ll explain later. Just take me there now, please…” She almost begged. This was the only solution she could think of.

Ah Fu sensed an ominous premonition from her words. There were only two reasons why the Divine Messenger would be in the Underworld: either he accidentally wandered in while alive, or he had abandoned his mortal body to return as the God of Calamity.

With that thought, Ah Fu pulled out the Book of Life and Death to check. Sure enough, Qi Shanglan’s name had already been crossed out.

So, he had returned to the Underworld—to resume his role as the God of Calamity.

“Great deity…” Ah Fu hesitated, looking at Lin Qianyou, who was on the verge of breaking down. “The Divine Messenger’s name has already been erased from the Book of Life and Death. He didn’t mistakenly enter the Underworld. He’s truly… dead.”

“What did you say?!”

Lin Qianyou snatched the book from Ah Fu’s hands and threw it to the ground.

“I don’t believe it! He’s not dead! He can’t be dead! He must have just wandered into the Underworld by mistake… Take me there, please…”

She curled up on the ground, crying so hard she could barely breathe.

Ah Fu couldn’t bear to see her in such sorrow, so it ultimately allowed her to go to the Underworld.

However, it couldn’t guarantee what would happen once she got there.

—

Amidst the endless yellow sand, Lin Qianyou’s figure suddenly appeared among the panicked, fleeing wandering souls.

She watched as these souls frantically rushed toward her, and behind them, she saw two tall figures—one dressed in black, the other in red.

They wore ancient robes, yet Lin Qianyou recognized one of them at a glance—that familiar figure.

Qi Shanglan—he was still alive!

“Qi Shanglan!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, fighting against the tide of fleeing souls as she ran toward him with all her might.

Xie Jinyu smirked, raising an eyebrow in amusement. “Well, well, General Qi, that girl just called your name. Could she be your lover from the mortal world? Did she come all the way to the Underworld to die for you?”

Qi Shanglan shot him an impatient look and said coldly, “I’ve already told you—I don’t remember ever going to the mortal world, let alone knowing her.”

“Still as bad-tempered as ever,” Xie Jinyu sneered. “Since you claim not to know her, how about a little competition? Let’s see who can kill her first.”

Qi Shanglan curled his lips into a cold smirk. “Fine.”

Before the words even fully left his mouth, the two of them had already drawn their swords and charged toward Lin Qianyou.

Seeing Qi Shanglan standing before her, alive and well, Lin Qianyou was overwhelmed with joy. She spread her arms wide in anticipation of his embrace—

But what greeted her wasn’t warmth.

It was a sword.

An icy, merciless blade pierced straight through her chest.

The yellow sandstorm raged around her, blurring her vision. She couldn’t tell if it was the wind and dust stinging her eyes or if her tears had clouded her sight.

Qi Shanglan’s figure became hazy in front of her, making her doubt—was this really the man she was searching for?

If he was truly Qi Shanglan, then how could he be so ruthless as to stab her without hesitation?

“Qi… Shang…lan… Come back with me, please…” Her voice was weak and broken, and a single teardrop fell onto his blade.

Yet, before her words had even fully landed, Qi Shanglan pulled his sword out without hesitation.

Lin Qianyou’s body disintegrated instantly, turning into a handful of yellow sand that scattered with the wind.

—

After she disappeared, Qi Shanglan remained staring at the drifting sand before him.

For some reason, an excruciating pain suddenly gripped his heart—so intense that he had to lean on his sword, dropping to one knee, unable to rise for a long time.

His brows furrowed tightly as he struggled to endure the searing agony.

How could this be?

He was the God of Calamity—why would he still feel such unbearable pain?

At some point, Xie Jinyu strolled over and looked down at him, sneering. “And you say you don’t know her? You just killed her, and now you’re in such agony?”

He chuckled mockingly. “I’m telling you, that was definitely your lover from the mortal world. And now, thanks to you, she’ll never be able to reincarnate.”

Satisfied with his taunts, Xie Jinyu turned away, continuing his pursuit of the wandering souls.

—

Qi Shanglan’s chest rose and fell violently. The stabbing pain lingered for a long time before it finally began to subside.

That woman he had just killed…

He had no memory of her whatsoever.

Yet, after a long while, he found himself inexplicably scooping up a handful of sand from the ground.

His gaze fell upon the grains resting in his palm, his brows still tightly furrowed.

But what difference did it make if he had known her?

He had already slain her. She would never reincarnate.

After a moment, he let the sand slip through his fingers, then slowly stood up and charged toward the fleeing souls once more.

Just another wandering soul.

Killing a few more—what did it matter?