At first glance, the sedan chair seemed flawless. Atop it stood a splendid canopy, resting upon a pavilion built of timber. The peak of the pavilion was carved with a pattern of white cranes flying westward, while its base was a lotus platform surrounded by intricate openwork floral carvings, exquisite in every detail.
Perched atop the canopy was a single crane surrounded by wisps of auspicious clouds. In its beak, it held four golden chains connected to four gossamer curtains.
The curtains hung down, perfectly blocking any inquisitive gazes from outside, offering only a vague, hazy glimpse of the occupants within.
Upon closer inspection, however, one would realize it was a sedan chair crafted from paper. The crane, the purple bamboo, the redwood—all hovered on the line between illusion and reality.
“The Yin Yang Road is open! The Yin Yang Road is open!”
“Valued guests, please enter the sedan! Valued guests, please enter the sedan!”
Several other paper figures crowded around, holding suonas, pipas, gongs, drums, and bamboo flutes as they ushered Nan Zhi and Xu Zi toward the chair:
“Valued guests, do not miss the hour! The night is dark and the road is long—please enter the sedan quickly!”
“Hahaha, brothers, play up the music!”
“Hahaha! Valued guests step into the sedan! Valued guests step into the sedan!”
“Hehehehe! Hehehe...”
Nan Zhi worried that the paper sedan chair would fall apart at a touch, but to her surprise, once she sat inside, the structure proved far sturdier than expected.
The interior was exceptionally spacious, accommodating both her and Xu Zi without feeling cramped at all.
Just then, a pitch-black tunnel materialized out of nowhere on the alley wall, deep and dark, its bottom impossible to discern.
It was unknown where the opening led, but the faint, mournful wailing of wind echoed from within.
The moment the paper figures carried the sedan into the dark opening, Nan Zhi felt as though she passed through a jelly-like substance. When she raised her head again, everything inside the sedan had actually turned real.
A purple bamboo base, a lotus platform, and a redwood canopy, with curtains flowing down like golden rivers around the pavilion. A Persian carpet covered the floor, and a small sandalwood table stood in the center.
Upon the small table were fresh fruit, tea, teacups, and a small stove. Charcoal burned slowly within the stove, though its flames were not red, but an eerie, cold green.
Nan Zhi reached out to touch the teacup and stove. Though the fire appeared lively, it felt bone-chillingly cold to the touch, sending a sudden shudder through her body if held for too long.
Lifting the curtain to look outside, she saw absolute darkness—not the lightless black of night, but a hollow void that seemed capable of swallowing all existence.
It felt as though, at this moment, nothing else existed in heaven and earth except the path ahead and this single sedan chair.
The paper figures carrying the sedan had also turned into living people, though their bodies remained stiff, with two festive blobs of red rouge painted onto their cheeks.
The paper pipas, gongs, and drums in their hands had transformed into real instruments as well, producing resonant tunes.
Playing their music as they went, the paper figures bounced and danced, causing the sedan to sway rhythmically as it sped along the pitch-black road where the path ahead remained invisible.
“Hahaha...”
“Hehehe...”
“Gigigigi...”
“Dili-dala... dili-dala...”
“Is this the Yin Yang Road? Truth and illusion intertwined—it really is difficult to distinguish one from the other.”
Nan Zhi lowered the curtain and sighed in wonder, only to turn around and see Xu Zi grabbing the fresh fruit from the table and eating heartily.
Nan Zhi: “...”
Fresh fruit on a paper sedan chair—this brat actually dares to eat it?
Before Nan Zhi could pinch Xu Zi’s cheeks and order the brat to spit it out, Xu Zi swallowed the pear and giggled.
“Once you step onto the Yin Yang Road, half your foot is already in the Underworld. No matter how much food a living person eats here, they will never feel full.
“Though these fruits look exquisite, they might just be transformed from mud and twigs. When we reach the Ghost Market, if someone offers you food or drink, you must never consume it carelessly.”
Then why are you eating it?
Nan Zhi cast a doubtful glare her way. Xu Zi leaned back, rolling comfortably inside the sedan, before tossing out a response:
“I’m different from you. I’m a demon, so I can naturally eat food made by ghosts. But you’re another story.
“If a living person eats food from the Underworld, they’ll end up vomiting mud at best, or falling gravely ill at worst. Although you’re a cultivator, eating Underworld food will still taint you with Yin energy.”
A demon?
Nan Zhi was slightly taken aback. Although she knew the Demon Suppression Division treated humans, demons, and ghosts alike, and that there were demon colleagues in the monastery, she hadn't expected the person before her to be one as well.
—Transforming into human shape was difficult for demons. Lowly little demons could rely on glamours to take human form, but it never lasted long, enduring for only an hour or two each day.
Even for demons with higher cultivation, their human transformation was rarely perfect; their human forms would almost always retain some traits of their true form.
Such as beast ears, scales, or tails and fur.
Yet no matter how hard Nan Zhi looked, she couldn't spot a single demonic trait on Xu Zi.
[Xu Zi: Qi Refinement level 9]
Looking at the other girl's cultivation realm, it was comparable to her own. Nan Zhi truly couldn't tell what kind of demon Xu Zi was.
“Hahaha, I’m not telling! In the entire Demon Suppression Monastery, aside from those demon suppression generals up top, nobody knows my true origins.”
Xu Zi lay on her side, her bright eyes darting toward Nan Zhi while her hands toyed with the bell at her waist:
“I’ve never ridden such a grand sedan down the Yin Yang Road before! I heard there’s a Ghost King in the Underworld who rides in a Crane Cloud Sedan whenever he travels. This sedan must be modeled after that one.
“And that paper ingot you pulled out earlier—it looks like a fine item too. You have mortal eyes, so you wouldn't recognize it.
“That paper ingot is glittering and golden, clearly crafted personally by someone with formidable magic and deep Yin merit. It was definitely made by either an eminent Buddhist monk or a Taoist master.
“Paper ingots like that are legitimate currency in the Underworld and can be spent anywhere.
“Usually, when these little ghosts carry sedans, they make thirty to fifty thousand in yellow paper money and even hike prices for newcomers. Now that you gave them such a huge paper ingot, they'll work themselves to the bone for you!”
The speaker intended nothing, but the listener took it to heart.
A thought struck Nan Zhi, and she suddenly asked,
“I wonder if I can buy a suitable weapon in the Ghost Market? The broadsword issued by the Demon Suppression Monastery always feels awkward to wield.”
“Of course! The Ghost Market encompasses everything imaginable. Around the Ghost Festival, when the Gates of Hell open, the Ghost Market stays open for seven straight days. Demons, monsters, ghosts, spirits from heaven, earth, and the mortal realm—even immortals—come here to trade and look for treasures they desire.”
Xu Zi let out a yawn, rubbed her eyes, and leaned into Nan Zhi's arms, mumbling,
“The road in the Underworld is long and rough, so it'll probably take a while. Wake me up when we get there...”
Before she could even finish speaking, she curled into a ball and fell asleep on Nan Zhi's lap.
“You trust me that much? Aren't you afraid I'll kidnap you and sell you off at the Ghost Market?”
Nan Zhi shook her head. Seeing no point in asking further, she casually peeked through the curtain, idly taking in the nonexistent "scenery" along the Yin Yang Road.
...
...
“Valued guests! Valued guests! We've arrived at the Ghost Buddha Temple!”
The sedan chair wobbled. After an unknown amount of time, the music outside came to a stop, and the little ghosts carrying the sedan chimed in:
“Up ahead is the entrance to the Ghost Market. Valued guests, hold on tight!”
Nan Zhi looked up and saw a stern, imposing headless Buddha statue standing outside the sedan. Its golden body was broken and ruined, its feet covered in moss and cobwebs, wearing the marks of time.
Where the Buddha's head had gone was unknown, leaving behind only the massive torso. Behind the body was a mountain gate, in front of which hung a bronze bell whose crossbeam was already rotted.
Presumably, this was the Ghost Buddha Temple at the end of the Yin Yang Road—the location where the Ghost Market was hosted every year.
Along the mountain path, countless ghost shadows flickered, climbing up along the trail.
Though bustling with activity, a closer look revealed that every single one of these mountain-climbers was strange and bizarre: some had fish heads on human bodies, some beast heads on human frames, while others had blue faces, fangs, or hideous visages.
—It was as if all the demons and monsters in the world were eager to rush to this grand, magnificent gathering of the Underworld.
Rate on N.U.
