In the latter half of the night, rain began to fall over Hong Kong.
In the inverted world of the Instance, the shadow of the rain cast down, creating the illusion of still being in the living world.
Song Mo filled in the details of the Instance bit by bit, the textualized Materials falling and slowly merging into the ground. She was in no rush to edit the rules directly.
Using an Instance space that was a near one-to-one replica of Hong Kong just to build an Instance around a single building felt like a waste.
If the script 《Underworld Messengers Borrowing Longevity》 was a single point, using the old grudges of the Chen family to ground the concepts of the underworld and underworld messengers in reality—then this Instance was meant to materialize the actual existence of the underworld.
To do that, the concept of the netherworld had to be established first.
Jumping straight into a grand narrative like the Ten Yama Kings and the Six Paths of Reincarnation clearly failed to consider the audience's capacity to accept it, as well as the script's plausibility.
The spiritual energy recovery had only just begun, and the rules of heaven and earth were still loosening; the underworld could not possibly manifest all at once.
It had to be like the first thaw of spring or fine snow tossed into a furnace, melting the surface ice first before dissolving the deep snow—wandering spirits and wild ghosts, low-grade underworld messengers, then City God judges, and finally the Yama Kings and the Ksitigarbha deities.
Layer by layer, progressing step by step—that was the only way that fit the logic of creation.
Therefore, the building in this Instance could not just be a haunted unfinished building. It had to be an entrance, a node, and ideally, a rift at the boundary between yin and yang.
...
...
“...People of the living world can enter, and underworld messengers of the netherworld can leave to apprehend deceased souls. Living people can meet their deceased relatives here, and the souls of the dead can take one last look at the living world... There will be trade, rules, and order, but there should also be danger lurking in the dark... just like the yin-yang ghost markets in bizarre tales.”
Song Mo deleted and revised the script floating in the air:
“This building can be seen as the core anchor. After players enter the Instance, their movements will not be restricted, allowing them to explore freely. We shouldn't tell the players right away that this is a certain part of the netherworld... We must preserve the sense of mystery, letting them explore on their own and draw their own conclusions...”
...
Once the concept was clear, the rest was easy to untangle. Song Mo's hands flew as she began to construct the underlying framework of the entire Instance.
【Setting 1: This location is a buffer zone between yin and yang, a precursor Instance to the underworld system, and a gathering area for low-grade wandering spirits.】
【Setting 2: Yin and yang are separated, yet exist in mirrored symbiosis. The sky inside the Instance is a reflection of the living world, showing its bustling traffic, forever out of reach. The ground is the ghost realm, off-limits to the living, who must not trespass into the living world.】
【Setting 3: The ghost market revolves around trading, where anything can be exchanged—memories, lifespan fortune, yin virtue, items, and human lives can all be priced. Trades must be voluntary on both sides, taking effect upon the establishment of a contract, with violators facing backlash from the laws of the underworld.】
【Setting 4: Underworld messengers will patrol the market daily.】
...
【Setting 7: Golden underworld coins will drift randomly into the living world. Those who pick them up will gain entry eligibility, automatically entering the Instance at midnight.】
...
...
Song Mo wrote very slowly, weighing every single rule repeatedly. If they were too loose, the majesty of the boundary between yin and yang would not be felt. If they were too strict, the players would have no room to maneuver.
In short, the trading rules were the core of this ghost realm—after all, a ghost market was simply a place to do business. Humans doing business with ghosts. Ghosts doing business with ghosts. Players could also get involved.
Whether it was trading for opportunities, items, information, or selling oneself... where there was trade, there was calculation, and where there was calculation, there was a story. The playability of the Instance instantly skyrocketed.
...
On her end, Song Mo concentrated on writing the rules, and the high-rise buildings around her shifted like building blocks as she wrote.
On the other side, A'zhu's shadow transformed into countless tentacles, grabbing over a hundred clay sculpture ghosts of various sizes and tossing them into the ghost market.
—A'yan had to stay behind to watch the house, so the one accompanying Song Mo on this business trip was replaced by the fierce ghost, A'zhu. Unlike his lively younger sister, A'zhu was much more silent.
“[Ji-ji-ji-ji!]”
“[Squeak squeak squeak!]”
One after another, the round, small-headed, big-bodied Mud Calabashes took root upon landing, and before long, they split into new clay sculpture ghosts.
As the words in Song Mo's hand, 【Clay Sculpture Ghost Shop】, fell, dozens of small shrines covered in red cloth suddenly appeared in inconspicuous places like corridor corners, rooftop edges, and deep within the alleys.
With the framework complete, she compared it to reality and began filling the ghost market with background details. The musty smell of the old tenement buildings mingled with the scent of incense and candles, while rusty neon signs glowed with green light.
A pushcart selling fishballs sat in the cramped alley, and wet human skins hung from the clotheslines overhead.
Beneath the faded Cantonese advertisements plastered all over the walls were pale, ghostly faces:
“[Drain unclogging, leak patching.]
[Spirit channeling, salvation ceremonies, bone-setting.]”
Normal things appearing in abnormal places—the sense of bizarreness piled up bit by bit, multiplying the fright it would deliver.
“...The Instance will attract real-world ghosts, and underworld messengers will also leave the Instance to reap souls in the real world.” Song Mo let out a soft sigh, and countless words flowed out from her fingertips—like a fine, dense rain falling into the rift between yin and yang.
Buzz...
Buzz...
A silent, invisible wave erupted with her as the center. Not far away, A'zhu immediately lowered his head in respectful waiting—
A gust of wind swept by, and the clouds above the entire Instance dispersed. The hurried pedestrians and bustling traffic of the real world were all projected into the Instance. Voices, honking, and shopkeepers' shouts echoed, as if the two worlds were separated only by a mirror.
Standing right at the center of this inverted world, Song Mo watched as the "textual rain" swept countless ghosts inside—the awakened ghosts of Hong Kong, drawn by this rain like a schooling pack of sardines, floated through that thin barrier and poured into the Instance all at once.
These ghosts still retained the appearance they had at the moment of their deaths. Some were covered in blood, some were charred black, some were soaking wet, and some were torn to pieces. Thousands of phantoms gathered together, each soul seeming frozen in time, remaining motionless as they landed on the ground.
...
【Deploying High-Grade Material: White Impermanence, High-Grade Material: Black Impermanence.】
As Song Mo wrote, two massive, sky-blotting phantoms rapidly expanded, sucking away the surrounding light like black holes—
【Instance: Ghosts in the Hong Kong Building】
The thirty-three-story building towered into the clouds, its dense window frames looking like pitch-black eyes. Suddenly, behind the tall building, a black and a white ghostly figure, so tall their heads were nearly invisible, materialized.
One was veiled in white, holding a mourning staff.
One was blindfolded in black, holding iron chains.
The air felt sticky, and the two giant shadows almost merged with the background. But one only had to look up to see the giant underworld messengers weaving through the buildings, the chains in their hands clanking and rattling—the ghosts were like a school of fish being chased by a giant beast in the deep sea.
Underworld messengers reap souls and can apprehend fierce ghosts. The moment the black and white shadows appeared, A'zhu immediately hid in Song Mo's shadow. This was a fear engraved into his very bones, and at the same time, a setting Song Mo had written into the script.
...
In the next second, the entire Instance shook violently. The previously stagnant fog began to flow slowly. The wind in the alleys swirled with paper ashes, and the neon signs buzzed.
The fishball cart on the street moved on its own without any wind. The Cantonese advertisements fell one by one, and the mouths of the ghostly faces hidden beneath opened and closed, like goldfish begging for food.
The frozen wandering spirits suddenly found a direction and began to drift lazily. Some slipped into shops, some squatted by the roadside, and some stared blankly up at the mirrored sky.
Shouts of street vendors, footsteps, coughing, the static of radios, and the faint sound of Cantonese opera slowly began to rise.
The giant Black and White Impermanence swayed slowly in the fog. Looking down at the ghost market beneath their feet, they stepped forward:
“Thud—”
“Thud—”
“Thud—”
Under the immense pressure, the wandering spirits scattered and fled. From the dark ground grew leafless, vibrantly colored ghost flowers.
Copper coin trees swayed in the wind, their falling leaves looking exactly like "copper coins."
...
It had come alive. The entire Instance had completely come alive. The scenes built of words and the cold rule entries had become reality under Song Mo's pen.
Humans and ghosts coexisted; yin and yang were inverted. Song Mo let out a long, satisfied sigh. How could she not be fascinated by this?
Now that the Instance, NPCs, and residents were all in place, all that was left was for players to enter. The copper coin trees shook, and the golden "copper coins" soared upward, piercing through the boundary between life and death to fall into reality.
...
...
...
The real world, Mong Kok.
“What is this, ah?”
A taxi driver waiting for passengers suddenly noticed leaves falling from the sky and poked his head out in curiosity.
Outside the car, tourists and locals alike stood in place, all staring up at the sky, where massive dark clouds were gathering. And from within the dark clouds, a sky full of golden copper coins was raining down.
Rate on N.U.
