After confirming that he had somehow wandered into a genuine ghost market, Qin Shu’s first thought was Pei Zhao.
Where had Zhaozhao gone?
He scanned the surrounding stalls repeatedly, but there was no trace of that familiar slender figure anywhere.
Fortunately, Qin Shu still remembered something Captain Wu had told him before. Places like this were not entirely lawless. Wherever a City God still held jurisdiction, there would usually be underworld officers maintaining order among the dead.
As long as he did not act recklessly, he should not immediately be in mortal danger.
The thought calmed him considerably.
Ghosts continued passing directly through Qin Shu’s body as they moved through the market. Every time one did, an icy current of yin energy swept through him, making the hairs on his arms stand on end.
Qin Shu sat quietly and observed for a while longer before gradually figuring out some of the rules.
Fighting was allowed here.
Cutting in line was apparently allowed too, provided you were prepared to get beaten for it.
But no one was allowed to kill another living or dead creature inside the market.
The eagle-bodied little ghosts had apparently crossed that line when they carried off the badly injured fox. The moment their victim was in genuine danger of being eaten, that enormous hand had descended and executed the offenders on the spot.
Qin Shu glanced upward at the dark sky.
All right. Better not punch anything to death unless I absolutely have to.
After sitting for some time, he finally got up and began walking through the market.
A waiter-like little ghost quickly noticed him and hurried over with an ingratiating smile. “Honored guest, honored guest! Looking for a weapon? I have something excellent here. Genuine goods from Living Water Village!”
The little ghost produced a machete.
Qin Shu stared at it.
It looked extremely familiar.
The ghost eagerly continued, “This was once used by a Gui Gong. It’s extremely fierce and excellent at suppressing evil. Since you and I seem destined to meet, I’ll give you a discount—eighty-eight percent of the original price!”
Qin Shu silently reached into his pocket and took out an eyeball.
The little ghost’s smile froze.
“This eyeball killed that Gui Gong,” Qin Shu said calmly.
The merchant stared at the eyeball, then at Qin Shu.
Its face gradually turned green.
“…Honored guest, perhaps we can discuss the price again.”
Qin Shu had no interest in buying anything. What he wanted was information.
He began asking about Living Water Village.
The little ghost, now considerably more cooperative, explained that the real Living Water Village had long since ceased to exist. What Qin Shu and the others had entered before was a ghost domain repeating the final experiences of people who had already died.
Once the filming had ended and the domain collapsed, the place was left behind as a ruined secret realm.
It was hardly a secret among supernatural beings anymore.
People with enough courage and ability could enter places like that to search for magical artifacts, rare materials, and other valuable objects left behind.
Qin Shu immediately thought of the strange things he had encountered there.
“So there are people who specifically look for places like that?”
“Of course! Some specialize in tombs too.”
“Tombs?”
The little ghost nodded enthusiastically. “If you need supplies from underground, look for the Mojin Commandants. Those people are professionals.”
Elio’s Notes: Mojin Commandants (摸金校尉), literally “Commandants Who Touch Gold,” are legendary or fictionalized tomb raiders associated with specialized grave-robbing techniques. The title originated historically but became especially famous through modern tomb-raiding fiction.
“Are they here?”
The little ghost immediately shook its head. “Absolutely not. They’ve been banned from the ghost market.”
“Why?”
“Digging around in graves all day and stealing from the dead. They’ve offended too many people. Coming here would be like digging on Tai Sui’s head.”
Elio’s Notes: “Digging on Tai Sui’s head” (太岁头上动土) is an idiom for recklessly provoking someone extremely dangerous or powerful.
Qin Shu nodded thoughtfully. “Then how do I find them?”
“If you have dead man’s money, go to a mountain cemetery around the third watch. Someone will approach you eventually.”
Elio’s Notes: The third watch (三更) traditionally falls around 11 p.m. to 1 a.m. Dead man’s money (死人钱) is treated in this story as wealth carrying a genuine connection to the dead and usable in supernatural transactions, rather than ordinary unburned paper offerings.
Dead man’s money.
Qin Shu silently remembered the term.
He had no such currency on him right now.
The gold he carried was probably not suitable either. Even through his thin gloves, he could tell there was something unusual about the ghostly aura attached to wealth circulating among the dead.
After extracting everything useful he could from the merchant, Qin Shu finally asked the most important practical question.
“How do I get to the City God Temple?”
The little ghost immediately pointed him in the right direction.
Qin Shu thanked him and left.
He had barely walked a short distance when the road ahead became completely blocked.
A group of extraordinarily tall men with tiger heads had crowded together, creating what could only be described as a traffic jam.
A few incorporeal ghosts had been squeezed beneath them and flattened into thin, pancake-like shapes. Since ghosts did not seem particularly bothered by being compressed, they simply waited for the enormous yao to move aside before slowly puffing themselves back into shape.
Qin Shu stopped several meters away.
The smell reached him before anything else did.
He had thought the ghostly customers smelled bad enough.
The yao cultivators were worseーmuch worse.
The odor was thick and distinctly animal, mixed with all kinds of strange scents Qin Shu could not identify. His nose was good enough that being trapped among them for too long would probably make him dizzy.
He decisively took a detour.
Along the way, Qin Shu encountered an elderly yellow ox.
Unlike many of the half-transformed yao around them, the old ox appeared calm and friendly. Seeing Qin Shu wandering around alone, he even took the initiative to speak to him.
“Little human, where are you headed?”
“The City God Temple.”
“Oh? Then you’ve taken the long way around.”
The old ox kindly pointed out another route.
Qin Shu thanked him, but before leaving, his attention was drawn to the unusually lively commotion nearby.
“What are they doing over there?”
“Selecting guards for the Dragon Mother’s birthday banquet.”
“The Dragon Mother?”
The old ox nodded. “Her birthday draws near. Every year, the younger generation comes here to compete. Those with enough strength may be chosen to accompany the procession and attend the banquet.”
Qin Shu immediately became interested.
“How do they compete?”
“Arm wrestling.”
Qin Shu: “…”
That sounded unexpectedly straightforward.
The old ox chuckled. “Young people like excitement. The Mountain Lord oversees it personally, so no one dares cheat.”
The ghost market seemed to overlap with the terrain of Jiangcheng No. 2 High School. The more Qin Shu looked around, the more familiar the roads and positions of the buildings became, even though everything had been transformed beyond recognition.
If the City God Temple would not disappear anytime soon, then entering the competition first probably would not hurt.
Besides, he had been feeling strange all day, exactly as Pei Zhao had said.
Maybe he really did need an outlet.
Qin Shu looked toward the competition area and made up his mind.
“I want to try.”
The old yellow ox looked him over in surprise.
“You?”
“Is that not allowed?”
“It is, naturally. But those youngsters are yao cultivators. Even the weaker ones have bodies much stronger than ordinary humans.”
Qin Shu flexed his fingers.
“That’s fine.”
The old ox stared at him for a moment, then suddenly laughed.
“Well said! A newborn calf does not fear the tiger.”
Elio’s Notes: “A newborn calf does not fear the tiger” (初生牛犊不怕虎) describes a young or inexperienced person who charges into danger without fear. The line is especially literal here because it is being said by an ox yao about a competition involving tiger yao.
Qin Shu glanced at him.
“Grandpa Ox, aren’t you technically the calf here?”
The old ox laughed even harder.
Apparently taking a liking to Qin Shu, he leaned closer and deliberately rubbed a faint trace of his own yao aura onto him.
“This should save you some trouble. The youngsters here can be suspicious of unfamiliar humans.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it. My nephew is competing too. His name is Huang Yuyuan. If you run into trouble, mention me.”
“Huang Yuyuan?”
“Yes. We call him A-Yuan.”
Qin Shu committed the name to memory and continued toward the fairground.
The closer he got, the livelier it became.
Several catlike yao were performing nearby, and among them were what looked like young leopards dancing enthusiastically to the rhythm of drums. Their tails flicked behind them while the surrounding crowd cheered.
Qin Shu slowed down for a moment to watch.
Cute.
But the arm-wrestling competition quickly drew his attention away.
It was taking place beside a wine stall.
Behind the stall stood a horse-headed woman—the same type of creature Qin Shu had seen selling horse blood earlier. Several stone tables had been arranged in front of her, surrounded by noisy spectators.
Qin Shu searched the crowd.
“Excuse me, is Huang Yuyuan here?”
Several yao turned toward him.
Then someone pointed.
Qin Shu followed the gesture and immediately understood why the old ox had spoken of his nephew with such pride.
Huang Yuyuan was extremely handsome.
He looked young, with striking features and an easy, confident bearing. A black cross-collared ceremonial robe fell neatly over his tall frame, its surface embroidered with elaborate dragonlike motifs.
Elio’s Notes: A mang robe (蟒袍) is a traditional ceremonial robe decorated with mang motifs resembling dragons. Despite the literal character 蟒, it does not mean a robe made from python skin.
Qin Shu approached.
Before he could introduce himself, Huang Yuyuan suddenly turned his head.
His gaze fell directly on Qin Shu.
Then his eyes shifted slightly, apparently noticing the faint aura the old yellow ox had deliberately left on him.
Huang Yuyuan’s expression immediately softened.
Qin Shu was just about to speak when Huang Yuyuan raised his hand and tossed a jade token toward the front of the competition area.
The token cut cleanly through the air.
“Mountain Lord,” Huang Yuyuan called with a smile, “squeeze one more contestant in!”
The surrounding crowd instantly turned toward Qin Shu.
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