Chapter 8

Chapter 8

These were the rules of the Ghost Market, designed to prevent the living from wandering in by mistake. Jiang Haoyan’s hair and mine were sent inside using yellow paper as a medium. When the spirits within saw them, they would know we were there for business and wouldn’t trouble us.

If a stranger who didn’t know the rules stumbled into the bridge tunnel, they would only encounter a ghost wall or be scared away by spirits.

Passing through that thick layer of mist, I stood still for a moment.

It was an ordinary bridge tunnel, but it felt exceptionally deep, measuring dozens of meters by sight. Stalls were scattered along the walls on both sides. People sat behind some stalls, while others were empty, with only a dim, yellow oil lamp placed in the corner.

I led Jiang Haoyan on a brief walk around, whispering instructions to him as we went.

“Don’t look at anyone’s face. Just keep your eyes on the ground in front of you.”

The number of stalls in the Ghost Market was fixed.

There were cultivators selling elixirs and talismans, as well as spirits who had been dead for years. Unable to reincarnate and having wandered the mortal realm for a long time, these spirits would pick up secret information to sell here, trading with the living for paper money and silver coins.

After observing for a while, I made up my mind.

I walked over to an empty space. There was no elaborate setup here, only a piece of yellow paper spread on the ground and weighed down by a brick. This was a stall where a spirit sold information.

The stall owner was an old ghost, dressed in tattered rags and as thin as a skeleton. It was clear no one was burning paper money for him. Who knew how long he’d waited for his turn to set up a stall? Every time someone passed by, he would stretch his neck and nod at them with a smile.

I crouched down in front of his stall.

“A month’s worth of Soul-Guiding Incense, burning twenty-four hours a day. I want to ask you something.”

The old ghost’s eyes widened suddenly.

“Big boss, my name is Old Ge. Whatever you need, just say the word.”

“Lately, has anyone been selling souls here?”

Old Ge’s pupils shrank instantly, and his whole body trembled, causing the surrounding mist to ripple like waves.

“Boss, you’re joking. The Ghost Market is supervised by the Daoist masters. Who would dare to sell that here? That’s just asking for death.”

“Heh, what era do you think this is? The supervisors have been turning a blind eye for a long time. If everyone were that obedient, how would there still be an Evil Cultivator daring enough to strip souls?”

I sneered, staring at his face.

“Who has been asking about ‘dead ground’ recently?”

Li Zhu’s forehead had been pierced with a Soul-Splitting Needle to separate his soul. A Soul-Splitting Needle was just an ordinary silver needle that could be bought anywhere, but the method of using it was anything but ordinary.

Before use, one had to find a patch of earth where someone had recently died-and it had to be a sudden, violent death. After inserting the needle into that soil for three days to absorb the yin energy, it became a true Soul-Splitting Needle.

Generally, if someone wanted to find such a place, they either had to check records at the police station or come to the Ghost Market to ask around. The culprit had talisman paper on them, so they were clearly a frequent visitor to the Ghost Market.

Sure enough, Old Ge’s expression changed again. He hunched his shoulders and looked around cautiously before saying in a fawning tone, “Boss, I really don’t know anything about that. Please don’t push me.”

As he spoke, he snatched the yellow paper from the ground, tucked it into his sleeve, and actually closed his stall early to run away.

Jiang Haoyan and I exchanged a look and immediately gave chase.

After leaving the Ghost Market, the old ghost ran at a leisurely pace, as if he were intentionally leading us. We followed him up several flights of stairs and through many twists and turns until we arrived at the entrance of a police station.

Only then did he hurriedly shove the yellow paper into my hand and whisper, “That person is from the Ghost City. I can’t afford to offend them. Don’t you dare say it was me who told you.”

With that, he turned and ran again, much faster this time. Before long, he turned into a puff of mist and dissipated into the wind.

I pulled out my phone and saw it was already two in the morning.

Jiang Haoyan and I found a hotel in the city to crash for the night. The next day, I took that yellow paper back to the Zhu Family Shop.

“How much for Soul-Guiding Incense burned continuously for a month?”

I had a pained expression on my face. Zhu Neng gave a sly grin and took the yellow paper from my hand.

“It seems the Sect Master has landed a big deal.”

“Our Zhu family’s Soul-Guiding Incense is 2,800 per stick. One stick burns for six hours, so that’s 11,200 a day, and 336,000 for a month. For your sake, I’ll round it down. Let’s call it 300,000.”

Zhu Neng took the yellow paper, walked over to a small incense burner he’d fished out, placed the paper underneath, and lit a stick of Soul-Guiding Incense. This paper carried Old Ge’s aura; the incense would only be provided to him, ensuring it wouldn’t be snatched by passing lonely ghosts.

I had Jiang Haoyan swipe his card, then walked over to the sofa and sat down, sighing with some melancholy.

“I really don’t want to deal with people from the Ghost City.”