Not bad at all

To Xie Bian's surprise, Yanluo's crumbling palace opened up into a busy main street. He stood stunned at the front gates, and looked back at the dark, rotting building behind him and then at the busy road lit all around by red paper lanterns and crowded with all manner of ghosts, demons, and imps.

"I thought he lived somewhere remote," Xie Bian said, "and that was why he had no choice about the state of his residence..."

Fan Wujiu walked out into the street, side-stepping a group of knee-height frogs with mouths filled with needle-sharp teeth who were chasing a small rodent. "We are in Youdu, the Underworld's capital city."

Xie Bian chased after him, struggling to keep pace with his long strides. Despite Yanluo's comment, he wasn't that short, Fan Wujiu was just astonishingly tall. "So he lives like that on purpose..."

Fan Wujiu shot him an annoyed look. "What does it matter? Do you think living in a opulent palace means anything here?"

"It was just a passing remark."

Fan Wujiu didn't say anything else and for a while they walked in silence. Xie Bian didn't mind, he was more interested in taking in the views. There was a lot to see in Youdu. They turned a corner and the road opened up in a large avenue, encircled on all sides by the dark trees that seemed to be the only kind able to grow in the Underworld.

But it was the hilly horizon, with its rows of towering buildings resembling stacked pagodas that truly grabbed Xie Bian's attention.

He could only stare in awe, wondering what feats of supernatural engineering allowed such tall and thin buildings to stand without crumpling under their own weight -- but no one else seemed surprised by their existence.

The streets were lively with all manner of ghosts and demons, trading stacks of paper money for food of dubious appearance, and going in and out of brightly lit teahouses, brothels, and gambling dens.

Xie Bian was watching a beautiful woman leaning against a bull demon buy an eye skewer from a headless vendor when a sprinkle of ghost money started raining all around. Some of the imps rushed to grab it, excited as children, but almost everyone else ignored it.

Apparently Fan Wujiu hadn't lied. Nothing really mattered in Youdu. He got the impression from watching the ghosts that they were going through motions in the same way they might have done when alive. Some looked genuinely happy, others confused and lost, others yet seemed barely aware of what they were doing.

It was a disconcerting sight, but not necessarily frightening.

Some of the imps had unusual appearances; fish heads on dog bodies with chicken legs, and other such unusual combinations, but their behaviour was more mischievous rather than threatening. Most of the demons had human appearances, and only animal traits like the flickering of insect wings, a swinging tail, or horns gave them away.

Xie Bian couldn't help looking at everyone attentively, soaking it all in. All in all, being dead didn't seem so bad.

Not bad at all.

He supposed he had been more of less forced into being a General but for now he didn't mind. It might even be fun!

He was still smiling to himself when Fan Wujiu came to a stop in front of doorway and turned to him with a blank expression. "I'm going to see the weapon's smith. Stay here."

"Why can't I go inside?"

Fan Wujiu sharp eyebrows knit in annoyance. "Dangerous," he said, and walked through the red canvas door without another word.

What a load of bullshit. They were already dead, what could possibly harm them?

Xie Bian assumed Yanluo was issuing them weapons to handle the unruly ghosts, who were unwilling to come to the Underworld of their own volition, it certainly couldn't be for their own protection.

He sat on the half-wall outside the weapon's shop and waited, looking out at the busy street. Some people looked his way, but averted their eyes after noticing the dangling jade waist-token that displayed his 'General' rank -- all Fan Wujiu's bad reputation's fault, no doubt.

It didn't take Xie Bian long to grow bored with everyone keeping him at a distance. It was then that he remembered that he had brought Yanluo's book with him, keeping it rolled up in his sleeve's inner pocket.

He pulled it out and crossed his legs atop the wall, settling in to keep himself occupied with Fu Shulin's tragic life story.

He skimmed over all the descriptions of the Fu family's daily struggles and hopes for their youngest son, who grew up feeling the weight of all those lofty expectations. The kid even trained martial arts all by himself, with the help of an old and dusty manual given to him by a village elder.

The old man once hoped that manual would be used by one of his own children, but that day never came. He passed it along to Fu Shulin with a heavy heart.

Along with training, his parents usually took him along when they went to Longbei to sell their wares. Jade Dragon Manor cultivators never visited their village, but they often went into the city. Tong Wen hoped that one day one of them would see her son and notice his strong spirit roots.

Fu Shulin was eight when he saw a cultivator for the first time. He was running an errand for his mother in Longbei when he came face to face with a child a few years older than himself.

The boy was wearing a white fox fur cape, the thick collar wrapped tightly around his throat. His round cheeks were ruddy from the cold, and his dark eyes seemed very limpid, almost dark grey, despite his downcast lashes.

To Fu Shulin the other boy looked like a doll. He had never seen such clean skin, or hair so glossy. It was a pity he wasn't one, because Fu Shulin would scrape together his last copper coins to buy him, and then put him on a shelf. Not to play with, just to look at.

The boy noticed someone staring at him intently and glared in that direction. His smooth features knitted in irritation when he noticed the ragged state of Fu Shulin's clothes. "Go away, I don't have money for beggars."

Before Xie Bian could read another word, a shadow fell across the page.

"What are you doing?"