Chapter 29

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Chapter 29: Title

Li Canghai’s question instantly drew the focused gazes of those nearby.

With Li Fan managing operations, the support team found themselves idle yet burning with curiosity. Did Xiao Tianji truly know this mysterious Leng Xingwen who’d materialized from nowhere? If not, why would he specifically post on Weibo? Without Leng Xingwen’s sudden appearance, they’d have never deciphered how the verse "Testing the iron armor as white as snow, I casually wield the sword to stir the stars" both described and concealed the man’s identity.

"Xiao Tianji," Leng Xingwen answered, snapping his fan shut with a grin. "You ought to thank that elusive fellow. Had he not tipped me off, I wouldn’t have happened to pass through here."

Typical of Xiao Tianji’s shadowy reputation. Yet Leng Xingwen’s casual tone suggested uncommon familiarity.

"Friends?" Hu Mei inquired without hesitation, finding nothing strange about the notion.

"After a fashion," he conceded, fan twirling between his fingers. "Though two centuries have passed since our last meeting."

"Two… centuries?" Hu Mei’s eyes widened as others exchanged stunned glances.

The man before them looked barely twenty-five. How could he reference two centuries like mere days?

"The Tiangong Palace’s Taoists—young and old—regularly vanish for centuries during closed-door cultivation." He spun his fan skyward, catching it to tap his temple. "Ah, but I forget—after six centuries in this end-time era, such customs must seem foreign."

The group stood bewildered. Had Bai Ye been present, he’d have calmly accepted this temporal paradox.

Meanwhile, Li Fan resolved to detain their unexpected savior—through invitation, not force, given Leng Xingwen’s effortless dispatching of the evil ghost.

"Mr. Leng." Li Fan approached, relieved to find the man still present.

Leng Xingwen studied the officer’s salute, sensing the weight of national fortune about him. This modern government matched Xiao Tianji’s descriptions.

"Spare the formalities. Speak plainly."

"We request your assistance in understanding the evil ghost’s origins…" Li Fan maintained respectful distance, his tone carefully neutral.

Every survivor owed Leng Xingwen their life. Without his intervention, two thousand souls might have perished, the spectral threat lingering unchecked.

"Remain here?" Leng Xingwen’s brow furrowed. "My current mission brooks no delay."

"Perhaps we could aid your purpose?" Chen Qingfeng interjected with a bow, recognizing Hu Mei and Li Canghai’s social ineptitude in such negotiations.

"This concerns the land of Jiuzhou itself—beyond your reach." The fan fluttered in gentle refusal. "Though you might direct me to the Special Bureau? Spectral disturbances diverted my path earlier."

"Special Bureau?" The two men exchanged glances. How did this ancient traveler know their newly established organization by name?

"Floodwaters meeting the Dragon King’s temple—we’re of the same household!" Chen Qingfeng chuckled, gesturing to their group. "We serve the Special Bureau and can escort you."

"My thanks." Leng Xingwen accepted pragmatically. While capable of navigating alone, efficiency dictated accepting offered help—the first step in any case requiring outside assistance.

For the members of the Special Bureau, Leng Xingwen’s sudden appearance radiated enigmatic allure. His grace and charm—the kind only nurtured through generations of noble lineage—stood as rare marvels in this modern age.

A gentleman of virtue, adorned with jade earplugs and star-crowned headpiece;

Jade-like stones arrayed in splendor, emerald pines standing in solemn grace.

The unconscious were swiftly transported by numerous ambulances, an event too conspicuous for Jiangnan City to conceal. News of the incident soon dominated local headlines.

City officials remained silent, constrained by protocols requiring the Special Bureau’s authorization for commenting on supernatural events involving extraordinary individuals.

The waiting helicopter proved convenient for their return journey.

Leng Xingwen’s cryptic references to the land of Jiuzhou unsettled Chen Qingfeng’s team. A man of such stature wouldn’t jest about urgency—his warning demanded serious consideration.

After brief deliberation, they resolved to return immediately to Capital City, postponing Jiangnan discussions for later.

"Modern technology proves truly remarkable," Leng Xingwen remarked while boarding the aircraft, his curious gaze betraying fragmentary knowledge of contemporary innovations.

Chen Qingfeng seized the opportunity during the scheduled flight: "The journey will take hours. Would Young Master Leng indulge our conversation?" Beside him, Hu Mei’s eyes sparkled with undisguised anticipation as Li Canghai subtly leaned closer.

"Ask freely," the nobleman responded with unexpected approachability, devoid of aristocratic pretension.

His ready compliance momentarily disarmed Chen Qingfeng. Under Liang An’s prior instructions, the agent cautiously broached: "Might we begin with your background?"

"My identity holds little intrigue," Leng Xingwen mused, recognizing inevitable future dealings with earthly authorities. "The Leng family belongs to ancient cultivation clans dwelling in secret realms for two millennia. While our members periodically observed mortal affairs, none emerged since the Ming dynasty severed Jiuzhou’s last dragon vein six centuries past."

As Chen Qingfeng activated his phone recorder, the noble’s eyes lit with recognition. "Ah, the ‘phone’ Tian Jizi described! He claimed it most diverting."

This evoked the team’s memory of a red-clad senior scrolling Weibo during martial practice—apparently ancient practitioners shared modern technophilia.

Li Canghai offered: "I could procure one for you."

"No unearned favors," Leng Xingwen demurred, then nodded understandingly at the recording explanation: "Ah, akin to sound stones."

His subsequent revelations unfolded like ancient scrolls: "When Spiritual Energy dwindled after the dragon vein’s destruction, we sealed our realms. The late Xiao Tianji of Tiangong Palace prophesied this era—the Awakening of Spiritual Energy—compelling our return after Six Hundred Years."

"We hadn’t originally planned to depart from our secret realm so hastily. The Awakening of Spiritual Energy remains in its infancy, insufficient to sustain our full cultivation capabilities."

"Yet mere days ago, Xiao Tianji—absent for centuries—suddenly sent word. He claimed to have ventured beyond the secret realm and warned that the Jiuzhou dragon vein would be destabilized by the Spiritual Energy’s resurgence, urging us to dispatch experts to stabilize it." Leng Xingwen paused deliberately, allowing the gravity of his words to settle before continuing.

"Though Tian Jizi embraces spontaneity, he wouldn’t jest about such crucial matters. After consulting my father and clan elders, we resolved to share this intelligence with other prominent families and cultivation sects who retreated to secret realms with us."

"So there are many skilled fighters like you?" Hu Mei gaped.

"Merely competent," came the modest reply.

"Then why pass through here?"

"Tian Jizi divined an auspicious omen for southeast travel today. Since it required little effort, I flew by sword to investigate."

"You can actually fly?!" Hu Mei’s eyes sparkled like stardust.

"A Sword Immortal?" Li Canghai’s intense stare burned with the fervor of Leng Xingwen’s blade-worshipping cousin.

"Hardly. Any tier two practitioner can manipulate swords with spiritual energy." Leng Xingwen fanned himself casually. "I’m no sword cultivator—the blade’s simply convenient. Unlike those disciples who become spectral without their precious steel."

"All because of a divination?" Chen Qingfeng’s skepticism hung thick.

"You recognize Xiao Tianji yet doubt his prophetic mastery?" The fan stilled. "He hails from Tiangong Palace, where celestial calculations reign supreme. Entire wars were waged for his omens in eras past."

"Though we’re acquainted, he’s never deigned to read my fortune. When such rarity occurs, would you ignore it?" Leng Xingwen’s chuckle carried centuries of resignation. "Two centuries vanished, and his reunion gift is this nuisance."

Tian Jizi had perfectly calculated Leng Xingwen’s noblesse oblige—this transcended mere divination into psychological puppetry.

"We’re indebted to your timely intervention," Chen Qingfeng conceded.

"Thank Tian Jizi’s meddling. My path should’ve led north." The fan snapped open, slicing air. "He foresaw your predicament and manipulated me here."

"How potent was that evil ghost?" Li Canghai pressed.

"Sealed at Tier One Pinnacle, now weakened to mid-tier one after six centuries’ confinement and Spiritual Energy deprivation." The fan traced a containment sigil in moonlight. "Beyond your current capacities."

Hu Mei fluttered lashes perfected through cross-dresser’s experience. "But you’re stronger, yes?"

"Mid-tier two," he acknowledged, "though Heavenly restrictions limit my power. Barely surpassing you all."

"Enough with formalities." His fan tapped Hu Mei’s nose. "Call me Brother Leng."

Chen Qingfeng’s eyelid twitched at "barely older"—this "brother" likely predated their grandparents. Yet they adopted the title, finding comfort in its false familiarity.

"Brother Leng," Chen Qingfeng ventured, "this ghostly domain you mentioned…"

"Ghost cultivators manifest domains upon reaching Soul Condensing Realm. Normally reserved, but our famished fiend grew desperate after prolonged imprisonment. The ghostly realm feasts on souls of the living to replenish its decayed essence."

“Yin Chai, can practitioners summon you at will?” Young Monk Huixin asked with lingering confusion.

“Impossible. This occurrence was merely fortuitous,” Leng Xingwen replied, rhythmically tapping his folded fan against his palm. “I’ll speak plainly – truly advanced practitioners can summon Yin Chai, but my current cultivation falls short. My attempt was but an experiment. Legends state Yin Chai inevitably manifest wherever ghostly domains emerge.”

“Rather than destroying malevolent spirits completely, delivering them to the underworld instills greater terror. Hence practitioners often show restraint in such situations.” This explanation clarified Leng Xingwen’s earlier hesitation.

“The mortal realm distinguishes righteousness from wickedness, while the underworld separates virtuous deeds from heinous crimes. Earthly transgressions face mortal judgment – only unresolved sins face underworld reckoning after death.”

“Summoning bypasses a Yin Chai’s journey by directly relocating compliant ones.” Leng Xingwen’s brow furrowed thoughtfully. “Yet I’m perplexed by their mention of an Empress. Since antiquity, the King of Fengdu has ruled the underworld. An Empress? Unprecedented.”

Silence gripped the helicopter cabin until Hu Mei raised her hand. “Brother Leng, do gods truly exist? Young Huixin witnessed Revered Guanyin, Fusang’s Amaterasu manifests miracles, and Vatican City reports heavenly visions.”

“Beyond Revered Guanyin, I know little of foreign deities,” Leng Xingwen admitted after pause. “Our Eastern pantheon crowns the Emperor of Heaven as sovereign.”

“When gazing upon the azure firmament, we behold Cangtian. The Emperor of Heaven governs Zhongxia’s celestial order – originator of all things, architect of cosmos, ruler who creates without possessing, nurtures without controlling, achieves without acclaim, dwelling eternally in radiance.”

Noticing his audience’s rapt attention, he sighed. “Ancient texts hold these fragments. Detailed records perished in an archaic war that weakened Zhongxia’s cultivation heritage.”

*

As the high-speed train raced onward, Ghost in Red materialized to find a hostage situation – a girl bleeding from multiple ice blade wounds while passengers cowered.

Zhongxia’s rail security banned even fruit knives, and its crime rates ranked among the world’s lowest. Unlike certain “free” nations across the ocean where gunfire punctuated daily life, such violence here signaled disturbing times.

“She’s unconscious!” Mingming strained forward, only to be restrained by Ghost in Red’s grip on his collar. Xu Li hovered nearby, invisible to normal eyes, aware his sudden appearance might escalate tensions.

“An extraordinary individual,” he whispered.

Ghost in Red’s gaze hardened at the perpetrator. Her spectral form flickered, materializing behind the assailant. One hand chopped his wrist; the other caught the collapsing girl.

Visibility spell active, she assessed the victim’s pulse and channeled spiritual energy through slender wrists. A sleeve-flung barrier repelled onlookers while another energy strand seized Xu Li.

The youth found himself propelled forward, sunglasses dramatically removed for better camera visibility. “Assaulting innocents in broad daylight?” His voice boomed with borrowed conviction. “You disgrace all extraordinary individuals!”

"Wait a minute, I didn’t intend to step forward like that, and those words weren’t mine," Xu Li exclaimed, his cheeks burning with shame even as his body continued moving independently. He internally wailed about his ruined reputation while delivering precise blows to the rampaging extraordinary individual, each strike carrying surprising force that sent their opponent staggering.

Within moments, the extraordinary individual collapsed in the carriage with a face resembling battered pork, completely unconscious. Xu Li stood amidst scattered luggage, unexpectedly basking in the awestruck gazes of passengers – an experience he found unexpectedly gratifying.

Miss Ghost in Red approached with fluid grace, her empty hand tapping his shoulder to dissipate the residual spiritual energy coursing through him. "Satisfactory work."

"Absolutely! All credit goes to your excellent guidance, Miss Ghost in Red!" Xu Li blurted with reflexive enthusiasm, immediately cringing at his own eagerness.

…This world holds many curiosities, but must they all lack composure? The red-clad senior concealed a sigh as she adjusted the unconscious girl in her arms. "Summon an ambulance first," Xu Li suggested, eyeing the lacerations marring the girl’s face with concern – such visible scars could haunt any young woman’s future.

As attendants arrived, Miss Ghost in Red issued clear instructions: "Retrieve my phone from seat 12B." Mere medical response wouldn’t suffice for this supernatural incident; the Special Bureau required notification. Her crimson lips curled coldly at the subdued extraordinary individual. "Truss this trash securely for Bureau collection."

Xu Li returned through the murmuring crowd, phone in hand, oddly savoring the passengers’ whispered admiration. "Your device," he presented it formally.

"Appreciated." Miss Ghost in Red cleansed the girl’s wounds with methodical care, spiritual energy flowing from her fingertips to accelerate tissue regeneration. The deep gashes smoothed visibly within moments.

"Your name remains unshared."

"Me? Xu Li – the Xu from ‘eternal pledge,’ the Li from ‘daybreak’s promise.’" The young man practically vibrated with nervous energy.

"Xu Li." She committed the syllables to memory. "I am Ghost in Red – the crimson garment itself." Her lips quirked at mirroring his dramatic phrasing.

"I know!" Xu Li bobbed his head vigorously, then hesitated. "Earlier, when I… was that actually you…?"

"Your ocular capabilities intrigue me," she deflected, focusing on dialing. When the connection clicked, her tone turned crisp: "Chief Liang."

"Ghost in Red! Where’ve you been?" Liang An’s relieved voice crackled through.

"Minor complication aboard the G127 express. An extraordinary individual assaulted civilians… Require cleanup crew." Her report clipped through essential details.

"Damnit! Can’t these powered brats stay quiet for one day?" The Bureau chief’s roar distorted the speaker. "After all our work maintaining public calm about extraordinary individuals…"

As the tirade continued, Ghost in Red’s gaze lingered on Xu Li’s unusual eyes – windows to more than mere ghosts, perhaps. The young man fidgeted under her scrutiny, blissfully unaware of the storm their encounter would unleash within the Special Bureau’s corridors.

On the first day of the Spiritual Network’s public launch, such a vicious incident occurred. Had we not encountered Ghost in Red, who knows how this might have escalated.

"Are you still aboard the train?"

"We remain here. The attendants said the next stop is Lanzhou City, and have already alerted both police and medical services." Though aware Liang An couldn’t witness it, Ghost in Red inclined her head slightly.

"Good. I’ll immediately coordinate with nearby Special Bureau agents regarding this matter. Speaking of which, red-clad senior, what’s your assessment of that extraordinary individual’s capabilities?"

"The abilities are ambiguous, bearing some resemblance to Yang Xingyu’s. Additionally, there’s another matter – a courageous extraordinary individual intervened during the incident. I suspect he’ll interest you."

As she spoke, Ghost in Red cast a glance at the fidgeting Xu Li nearby. "This young man possesses remarkable vision. He perceived me even through spiritual concealment."

Young man? Xu Li’s expression nearly crumbled. At twenty years old, this marked the first time someone appearing barely two years his senior addressed him so condescendingly.

Mingming, who’d been observing the unconscious girl, suddenly noticed her eyelids twitch. "Sister Ghost in Red!" the child exclaimed excitedly. "This lady’s waking up!"

"We’ll continue this discussion later. I’ll escort Mingming home first." Ghost in Red concluded her communication with Liang An.

"Very well. Ensure the young lady receives proper consolation – no one should endure such trauma undeservedly."

"Acknowledged."

Terminating the call, Ghost in Red focused on the stirring girl. "You’ve regained consciousness. Are you experiencing any discomfort?"

The girl’s eyes fluttered open to behold an elegantly austere countenance regarding her with concern, momentarily eclipsing her recent agony.

"It… stings somewhat," she whispered, her blood-depleted voice carrying a fragile tenderness that verged on unconscious coquetry.

"The residual pain stems from your injuries. It will dissipate with healing."

"My face…" Trembling fingers rose toward her cheeks as crystalline tears fell. The memory of steel carving her flesh haunted her.

"I’ve administered spiritual treatment. The cold energy embedded in your wounds has been purged, and accelerated healing prevents scarring." Ghost in Red demonstrated her handkerchief’s pristine reverse side before offering it. "You’ll retain your beauty."

"Truly?"

"Deception serves no purpose here."

"I trust you." The girl’s tear-streaked face blossomed into a dimpled smile.

Observing nearby, Xu Li suddenly strode toward the prone assailant, delivering several savage kicks. "How dare this filth harm such innocence!" he growled, disgust tightening his features.

"My name is Yu Yue. Thank you for saving me."

"Ghost in Red."

"I recognized you! From Spiritual Network profiles and Weibo posts!" Yu Yue’s eyes sparkled before clouding when they drifted toward the shadowed corner.

"Xu Li, at your service." The young man’s cheerful grin softened as he ventured cautiously, "If I may ask… why would he…?"

"…My boyfriend." Yu Yue swallowed hard. "We quarreled. Then he… transformed. Ice blades materialized…" Her voice fractured.

As Xu Li struggled for appropriate words, Ghost in Red gently rested her palm atop Yu Yue’s head. "Such a precious jewel," she murmured, "should never scavenge for suitors amidst garbage piles again."

The phrase struck Xu Li as familiar – wasn’t this among those trite admonishments from silly internet users?

"Never again," Yu Yue vowed, resolve crystallizing through her tears. "No more boyfriends. Ever."

“Mhm, that’s good.” Ghost in Red appeared satisfied.

Wait, something felt off. Xu Li stood nearby, lost in contemplation.

When they disembarked, Xu Li volunteered to escort Yu Yue to the hospital, uneasy about letting her leave alone. Seizing the opportunity, he successfully obtained Ghost in Red’s phone number.

“I’ve no urgent matters in Hanzhou City anyway. It won’t matter if I don’t go.”

“Then I’ll entrust her to your care,” Ghost in Red replied before parting ways.

Outside Lanzhou City’s high-speed train station, patrol cars and ambulances had converged. The apprehended extraordinary individual was being escorted into a patrol car by rail officers. Accompanied by a Special Bureau agent, Xu Li helped Yu Yue board an ambulance.

Hanzhou City

Ghost in Red and Mingming arrived in Hanzhou City by afternoon. During the latter leg of their journey, train staff had discreetly relocated them to a private business-class cabin, likely to prevent disturbances.

Truthfully, chaos had erupted the instant the extraordinary individual attacked.

In this era of pervasive social media, even minor incidents gain instant notoriety online—let alone those involving extraordinary individuals, which inevitably dominate the trending list.

Scammers now exploited concepts like the Awakening of Spiritual Energy and extraordinary abilities for fraud. The Spiritual Network had issued explicit warnings: unregistered claims of supernatural prowess would be prosecuted as fraud spreading superstition.

Countless similar bulletins circulated, and even Ghost in Red—only peripherally involved—had heard about the Special Bureau’s ceaseless workload.

“Remember where your grandparents live?” Ghost in Red inquired.

“305 Jingjiang Villa, Chunhui District,” Mingming confirmed with a nod.

“We’ll hire transportation.” Though having resided in Hanzhou City for centuries, Ghost in Red remained unfamiliar with specific locales.

Lin Jing had thoughtfully provided cash before their departure, which now proved useful.

The two spirits waved at passing taxis by the roadside. Soon, an emerald-colored vehicle halted before them.

Mimicking the attire of nearby professional women, Ghost in Red materialized a business suit, transforming herself and Mingming into a convincing mother-child pair.

“Destination?” asked the taxi driver, admiring their refined appearance.

“305 Jingjiang Villa, Chunhui District. What’s the fare?”

“Just get in.”

As they settled into the backseat, the middle-aged driver noticed an unexpected chill. Peering through the rearview mirror at the elegant pair, he dismissed his unease—sunlight streamed through the windows, banishing thoughts of spectral passengers.

“Do you think Grandma and Grandpa miss me? It’s been so long,” Mingming murmured, her head resting on Ghost in Red’s lap.

“Were they fond of you?”

“Oh yes! I was their favorite!”

The driver relaxed completely—wealthy family visitors, clearly. Jingjiang Villa’s property values exceeded forty thousand per square meter, after all.

Jingjiang Villa Area

“Entry requires resident verification,” the driver informed them at the gated community.

“We’ll disembark here. The fare?”

“One-fifty,” he answered, tapping the meter.

A woman and child stood outside the villa gates. The security guard studied them—the strikingly beautiful woman was unfamiliar, but the child’s face tugged at his memory. Whose relative could this be?

“It’s the guard Uncle An; we can just talk to him to get in.” Being a child, Mingming didn’t overthink and darted forward.

“We’ll return tonight,” Ghost in Red restrained him.

A deceased child reappearing would inevitably prompt reports to Hanzhou City’s Special Bureau. Having lingered at their headquarters recently, Ghost in Red knew these protocols well.

At midnight’s zenith.

Within a villa of Jingjiang Villa area, Ghost in Red and Mingming loomed over two slumbering elders.

“Place your palms upon their brows and will them to perceive you.”

Mingming complied, soon materializing in the front garden where his grandparents sipped tea. Beyond the panoramic windows, his parents’ piano duet resonated.

The scene mirrored his memories perfectly. Mingming rushed toward the benevolent figures.

“Grandma! I’ve come to see you!”

“Mingming! My precious grandson!” The elder’s voice quivered. “I feared you’d never visit this old soul.”

“Ghost in Red guided me. The seventh day permits dream-visitations.”

The ancient belief of souls returning on their death’s seventh day stirred the grandmother’s heart as her grandson spoke through tears.

“Your parents…?” The white-haired matriarch glanced hopefully about.

“They… never became spirits…” Mingming lowered his eyes, recalling Brother Bai Ye’s teachings about posthumous fortunes.

“At dawn I must descend to the underworld. Brother Bai Ye says… there’s no returning.” The child’s whisper hung heavy.

“The underworld…”

Daybreak found the grandmother awakening with tear-stained cheeks, her wails shattering the stillness. Her grandson’s spectral visit reopened fresh grief. For elders burying black-haired descendants, the wound never truly healed. She nudged her snoring husband, desperate to share the miracle.

From below drifted the closing notes of a serenade – Mingming’s favorite lullaby, now a ghostly encore.

Upon Hanzhou City’s tallest spire, crimson robes billowed like bloodied banners. A small figure huddled nearby, face buried in knees.

“Still clinging?” Ghost in Red gazed across the waking metropolis.

“Grandma’s tears… Must I truly go?” Mingming’s lip trembled rebelliously.

“Yes.” Her tone brooked no dispute. “Souls evading Yin Chai become hunted wraiths. Recaptured escapees face underworld tribunals… and torments.”

“Is… is the torment real?”

She paused, breeze tousling her hair. “Legends claim such. Truth? None living know.”

“Does fearing damnation make me weak?” The seven-year-old’s whisper barely carried.

“Fear is mortal.” Unexpected tenderness softened her touch as she ruffled his hair. “The underworld’s maws won’t chew children. Seek Fengdu Ghost City’s alleys – find Zhan Yuan. He shelters lost souls.”

Somewhere in the netherworld, a certain sneeze echoed.

Through swirling ectoplasm, Ghost in Red manifested Zhan Yuan’s likeness.

“Your friend?” Mingming studied the image.

“A… protégé of sorts.” She ignored memories of his unanswered “Master” pleas.

“I’ll tell him to nurture you well. Payment can wait.” Her embrace tightened as shadows coagulated.

A Yin Chai materialized, chains clinking.

“Honored messenger.” Ghost in Red inclined her head.

“Soul Condensing Realm cultivation?” The apparition’s hollow eyes narrowed. “Rare in this end-time’s dawn.” His gaze shifted to the quaking child. “My quarry.”

“He’s tender-hearted.” Her hand lingered protectively.

The Yin Chai snorted but withheld his chains. Mingming peeled himself from crimson fabric, each step trembling.

“Farewell, Ghost in Red.” His valiant smile crumpled like crepe paper.

She watched them dissolve, dawn’s golden fingers piercing ashen skies. Below, the city stirred – unaware of midnight’s spectral drama.