“Look for dead people?!” Xin Huohuo and Bai Qi exclaimed in unison again.
“Is that so strange?” Facing the two blockheads, Mr.
Hei felt a massive headache coming on.
“Don’t people die in this city?
When they die and their souls go missing, don’t we have to investigate?
And how are we supposed to do that?”
“I get it!
Wherever someone dies, we go and follow their soul to see where they end up.” Bai Qi slapped his thigh, thinking he was brilliant, but then he grew worried again.
“But this city is huge.
How are we supposed to know where someone has died?
Are we just going to pick a spot and wait for something to happen?”
“Let’s just go to a hospital,” Xin Huohuo interjected.
“It’s impossible to know when someone might die elsewhere, but is there ever a day when no one dies in a hospital?
Especially a large one that treats critical illnesses.
People don’t just die there every day—a lot of people do.”
“So smart,” Bai Qi said admiringly.
“That just proves your intelligence is still at rock bottom,” Mr.
Hei grumbled.
Leaving aside chronic diseases, cancer was currently the leading cause of death in the country.
So, Xin Huohuo led Bai Qi and Mr.
Hei to the city’s most famous hospital, one specializing in oncology.
“This place has a lot of patients.” Xin Huohuo, accompanied by the two lords of Black and White whom only she could see, crouched outside the entrance to the hospital’s rear morgue.
“The traffic jams here every day are soul-crushing.”
“Hmph.
Traffic jams by day, soul jams by night,” Mr.
Hei snorted.
“Are there…
a lot of them right now?” Xin Huohuo felt a chill run down her spine.
She tugged on Bai Qi’s sleeve, her eyes staring uselessly at the empty space before her.
In the Yang Realm, the true forms of Black and White Impermanence were Spiritual Bodies, invisible and intangible.
But some mysterious bond allowed Xin Huohuo to see them.
Later, they had cast a Spell to make themselves solid in her presence as well.
“There aren’t that many right here.
We saw quite a few on the way into the hospital, but their time isn’t up yet, so they’re still lingering.
But don’t worry, they won’t dare come closer,” Bai Qi comforted her.
“It’s not a perfect analogy, but think of it like natural predators.
Even if these souls have never seen us, they become fearful and submissive the moment they sense our presence.
They wouldn’t dare approach.”
“Isn’t it scarier knowing they’re all around but not being able to see them?” Xin Huohuo complained.
“Can’t you figure something out?
Just let me see them.
Or maybe give me a Yin Yang Eye?”
“Don’t be ridiculous.
People with a Yin Yang Eye don’t live long unless they have a special destiny.
It’s a flaw, a fatal flaw given by the heavens!” Bai Qi patted Xin Huohuo’s head again.
He enjoyed the gesture, and his touch was always light—just like how Xin Huohuo would pat him back when he was possessing the little white dog.
In the short time they’d known each other, they had already grown accustomed to this gesture.
“Can’t you use a temporary Spell or some witchcraft?” Xin Huohuo racked her brain, recalling various posts she’d seen passed around online.
“Like, rubbing cow tears on your eyes?”
“That won’t let you see ghosts.
It’ll just give you a cross-infection,” Mr.
Hei snorted.
Bai Qi burst out laughing.
“You’re such a buzzkill,” Xin Huohuo said, annoyed.
“I take great pleasure in it,” Mr.
Hei replied without turning his head.
Xin Huohuo had no choice but to ask Bai Qi again.
“What about rubbing your eyes with water boiled with willow leaves?
Or swallowing a crow’s eyeball?
Eww, not that one, that’s too disgusting.”
“Shh, one of them is about to leave,” Mr.
Hei suddenly whispered.
To avoid startling the soul or tipping off any mastermind pulling the strings, they immediately activated their invisibility mode.
Of course, Xin Huohuo could still see them.
“So people don’t leave right after they die?” Xin Huohuo asked curiously.
“Of course not.
Being born takes time, and dying is also a process.” Bai Qi pulled her along to follow.
“What if someone isn’t truly dead, their allotted lifespan in the Yang Realm not yet finished?
A mistake would be a huge problem.
Besides, not all of these souls wandering around are dead.
Many are on the verge of death, hovering on the line, gravely ill and in a coma.
They all have a chance to come back; it just depends on their own will.”
“You guys must work really hard every day,” Xin Huohuo sighed.
“You don’t actually think we personally come to guide every single person who dies, do you?” Bai Qi was stunned.
“We’d be worked to death, especially in this age of population explosion.
Do you have any idea how many people are born and die in a single city every day?”
“Then what happens when people die?”
“Isn’t it a bit early for you to be worrying about that?” Bai Qi scratched his chin, thought for a moment, and said, “Let me put it in terms you can understand.
When a person is born, they’re encoded with a ‘life code.’ When their life ends, that code guides them to the entrance of the Road to the Underworld, and then soul reapers lead them inside.
The Road to the Underworld is very long; it takes a long time to walk.”
“Like a computer program?”
“Exactly, like a computer program.
From a certain perspective, the physical body perishes, while the soul is like data, so the process is naturally automated.
We only need to intervene personally for especially vicious or lingering resentful ghosts, or for evil spirits that harm the living.
It’s like making an arrest.
Do you ever see police arresting just anyone they see?
Ordinary people live their lives by the book—they come when it’s time to come and go when it’s time to go.
Only criminals get arrested and have compulsory measures taken against them.
And even with that system, we’re still busy as hell every day, okay?
We haven’t had a vacation in centuries.”
“There are so many bad guys,” Xin Huohuo muttered.
“But now that the Road to the Underworld has disappeared, where are the souls supposed to go?”
“That’s precisely what we’re here to investigate.”
Just as Bai Qi was enthusiastically clearing up Xin Huohuo’s ignorance, Mr.
Hei, who was walking ahead, suddenly turned around and swiftly drew a character on her forehead with his finger.
Xin Huohuo only felt a cool sensation on her forehead, followed by a rush of warmth to her eyes that forced them shut.
When she opened them again, she saw the supernatural.
All around her—in the shadows of the streetlights, concealed among the flowers and trees—were all sorts of souls.
They reflected their various appearances from life, their eyes vacant and bewildered as they slowly drifted about.
Since Black and White Impermanence were invisible and Xin Huohuo was human, she didn’t attract any attention at all.
But their pain—the pain of having no awareness and no place to go—was so palpable.
‘So this is what wandering souls are like.’ Xin Huohuo immediately felt like she was on the set of *The Walking Dead*.
“What did you do?” She glared at Mr.
Hei, grabbing Bai Qi’s arm in fear.
“Now that you can see, you won’t talk so much.” Mr.
Hei was a little annoyed.
“We’re here to investigate, not to go shopping and chat.
You two, be quiet.”
Bai Qi made a hushing gesture.
Only then did Xin Huohuo understand that there were many people and things it was better not to see.
This was especially true when, not much farther on, a middle-aged woman suddenly turned around and began walking toward them, one slow step at a time.
“Is she the one we’re following?” Xin Huohuo asked.
Mr.
Hei nodded.
Only those who died violently or in extreme pain, having suffered too great a shock, would manifest as grotesque-looking souls.
The souls of ordinary people simply retained their final appearance, albeit with an ashen complexion and a sorrowful expression.
“She’s coming over!
She’s coming over!” Xin Huohuo said nervously.
“Aren’t you guys invisible?”