Chapter 106: Shizun, Where Are You [15]

"Died from a qi deviation…?" The gatekeeper repeated his words back slowly, then hmph'd. "You a cultivator?" "Mn." "A cultivator and you're already down here at that age? How very unfortunate."   The gatekeeper smirked sardonically. Many ordinary people don't have the foundational aptitude necessary for a good fate, and so when they make fun of cultivators, it's like calling grapes sour when they've never been able to have any.[16] "Y'know, your soul looks kinda off to me. Like it's tainted." Master Huaizui had put an enchantment on Mo Ran that covers up his living scent and allows him to make contact with souls, so the gatekeeper couldn't see right through him, but something just felt off, so he sat himself back down and put one leg over the other, feeling around in a drawer and then extracting a pitch-black ruler.

"Sin-Measuring Ruler," he said smugly, though it wasn't clear what he was so smug about, the ruler wasn't even his, but the less important their position the more they liked to put on airs. The gatekeeper slapped the ruler soundly down on the table and lifted his eyes to stare at Mo Ran. "Stick your hand out, this lordly one is gonna measure your merit in life." Mo Ran: "..."

His merit in life?

If that gets measured, won't he get sent directly over to King Yanluo to get ground into dust?

But with everyone watching and nowhere to run, he could only exhale as he shifted to hold the Soul-Calling Lantern in one hand, extending the other.

The gatekeeper went to place the ruler against the inside of his wrist, but the very moment it made contact, the ruler started screeching shrilly with globs of blood dripping from its pitch-black body alongside the weeping and wailing of untold thousands.

"I will not rest in death…" "May you never be allowed to reincarnate!! Mo Weiyu!!!!" "Dad! MOM!!! YOU SON OF A BITCH WHY!!! WHY!!!!!!!" "Don't kill me… please don't kill me——" Mo Ran jerked his hand back, face instantly draining of all color.

The gathered ghosts were all staring at him, the gatekeeper's stare the most unreadable of them all. He stared at Mo Ran with a gaze like that of a fierce beast for a while, then lowered his head to look at the ruler.

The red glow had disappeared from the ruler, and the stream of blood was also gone like it was a mere hallucination, the surface of the table perfectly clean. But a line of letters slowly appeared on the ruler.

—— Sins beyond redemption, send to level…

Which level of Hell?

Mo Ran had pulled his hand back before the Sin-Measuring Ruler could finish measuring, so it couldn't write the rest.

The gatekeeper grabbed his arm abruptly and violently, eyes locking onto him viciously like a predator that had had nothing to do for far too long finally catching a rare prey. His nostrils flared, and a strange light flickered in his eyes;

half his intestines had leaked out but he didn't bother shoving them back in this time.

"Hold still while I retake the measurement." His face was impatient and greedy, like he was already imagining himself claiming his commendations from Yanluo.

His ghost claw dug into Mo Ran's wrist as he forcibly yanked him over,

practically unhinged as he slapped the Sin-Measuring Ruler none-too-gently against his wrist once again.

Catching a ghost meant for the Eighteen Hells would be a great credit to him;

he'd get promoted on the spot by at least three tiers, and he'll never have to sit at this gate recording the comings and goings of all these souls ever again.

"A proper measuring this time!" The Sin-Measuring Ruler lit up again.

And, just like before, blood streamed forth as screams filled the sky.

It was as if all of the people that Mo Ran had ever killed and all of the sins that he had ever committed were being crammed into the small black ruler, almost making it burst with the sheer overwhelming magnitude of the resentment.

"I hate…" "Mo Weiyu, I'll never let you off, even when I'm dead…"

Mo Ran's expression became more and more distraught, lowering his eyelashes and pressing his lips tightly together, something unreadable in his eyes.

"You have no conscience!!!! You've turned this world into hell!" "I'll haunt you when I'm dead!" "AAAAAAAH——!!"   Weeping, wailing, cursing, and hating.

Suddenly, amidst all those voices, he heard a soft sigh.

"I'm sorry, Mo Ran. It was this master's fault…" Mo Ran's eyes flew open, eyes full of grief and sorrow.

He heard Chu Wanning's voice from when he was on the verge of death in the past life again. It was so gentle, so sad, but it cut into his skull like a knife,

almost as if it was going to cleave his soul apart.

The voices slowly faded away. The Sin-Measuring Ruler grew silent.

The line of writing appeared again:

Sins beyond redemption, send to level…

Mo Ran didn't pull away early this time, but the writing still didn't finish!

The gatekeeper blinked, then tapped the black ruler a couple of times. "Is it broken?" The ruler quivered a little from the taps; then, unexpectedly, the writing disappeared, and a thin layer of celestial haze rose from the surface of the ruler as it glowed with a brilliant radiance.

There was no wailing or weeping from the ruler this time; instead came music like melodious birdsong drifting between the clouds, as if the most elegant chords of the Ninth Heaven had descended into the Underworld. The souls were all entranced by it, and even the gatekeeper couldn't help becoming mesmerized.

Only when the celestial music came to a stop did the gatekeeper finally snap out of it.

And when he checked again, the Sin-Measuring Ruler showed the words —— Everything normal, allow to pass.

The gatekeeper cried out, "Impossible!" Wasn't it just "sins beyond redemption" a moment ago? Why was it "everything normal" now?

Refusing to believe it, he used the ruler to check several more times, but it was the same result every time: sounds of screaming at first, followed by beautiful music, and finally, without exception, it would say everything normal, allow to pass.

The gatekeeper was beyond disappointed, but he had no basis for blocking a normal soul from entering the Underworld.

He shoved his intestines spitefully back in his guts as he muttered, "Tch, that's some qi deviation you had, alright."

Mo Ran was just as surprised. He had no idea why this was happening either, but thinking about it, he concluded that Master Huaizui's enchantment must have confused the ruler, and so let out a breath of relief.

"Take your damn entry pass and get lost then, you waste of time. Beat it!"   "..." Mo Ran couldn't be happier to oblige, and was just about to leave with the Soul-Calling Lantern in his arms when the gatekeeper's eyes suddenly lit up and he shouted loudly—— "Hang on!"   Mo Ran kept his expression steady even as his heart raced, feigning an impatient annoyance as he replied, "What is it now?" The gatekeeper gestured with his chin, "What's that you're holding?" "Oh, this…" Mo Ran's hand stroked the lantern as the gears in his head turned rapidly. He turned around with a smile, "It's my burial item[17]."   "Burial item?" "Yeah, it's a magical relic." "Heh, how interesting," the gatekeeper pointed at the table, eyes flickering.

"Put it down over here and redo the measurement. Your magical relic was probably interfering with the ruler." "..." Mo Ran cursed this asshole in his head, but had no choice other than to set the lantern down and apprehensively stick his wrist back out.

The gatekeeper seemed quite confident this time as he eagerly put the ruler into place once more.

...

But the result was still the same.

Still that same line, clear as day: Everything normal, allow to pass.

Let alone the gatekeeper, even Mo Ran hadn't the slightest. But with that,

the gatekeeper finally gave up for good and lazily waved him in.

Not daring to linger even a moment, Mo Ran picked the Soul-Calling Lantern back up and, hugging it to himself, walked through the lengthy passageway to the end, where the quality of the light changed.

The Ghost Realm unfolded before his eyes.

This was the first level of Hell, stretching into the distance with no end in sight. The sky was scarlet like a sunset on fire, and all kinds of strange flora sprouted from the ground. Rows of uneven roof tiles sprawled the immediate area, while palatial structures lined the horizon. A monolith stood at the entrance, and on it was written "Thy flesh returns to dust, thy soul to Nanke Town." A red-painted gateway towered next to it, "Nanke Town" carved and gilded with liquid gold upon it, each character the height of a grown man.

So the first level of Hell was called Nanke Town. All of the deceased— assuming there was nothing out of the ordinary with them—would stay here for the eight, ten years until summoned by the judge of the Underworld to the second level to stand trial and receive judgement.

Mo Ran looked around as he walked, holding the Soul-Calling Lantern in his arms.

As far as he could see, the layout wasn't much different from a regular town in the living world—roads, residences, and shops; eighteen streets in total, nine north-south and nine east-west. The souls of men, women, and children went their ways, some laughing, others weeping, truly a gathering of ghosts.

He heard a newly deceased woman sobbing from the east side, "What do I do, what do I do, they're all saying that a remarried woman will be cut in half to be given to the two men, is it true? Can anyone tell me if it's true?" Next to her, a girl with disheveled clothes and messy hair wiped at her tears,

"I didn't want to do that line of work, but there was really no other way to make a living. When I was still alive, I went to a local temple to donate a threshold to be stepped on by people coming and going as atonement for my sins, but the village chief said he'll only allow me to swap out the threshold if I pay him four hundred gold… if I had that kind of money, I wouldn't have had to sell my body in the first place…"   And over on the west side, a guy was counting, "Four hundred and one days,

four hundred and two days, four hundred and three days… we agreed to die together for love, but I've been down here for four hundred and four days already and she still hasn't followed. Sigh, she's so delicate, maybe she got lost on the way down? What will I do if she really did get lost?"   There was a gathering of newly deceased ghosts at Nanke Town's gate,

crying and muttering, lingering and unresigned.

But further in were the older ghosts that had already been back to the living world and resigned themselves to things.

They were much more calm and collected, and each had some kind of livelihood to pass the time while they await trial.

By the third street, things were as busy and bustling as any market in the living world.

After all, these were all soul not yet severed from their mortal lives, who had not yet drank Mengpo's soup and were still indistinguishable between human and ghost. Those who were entertainers in life were still putting on performances at the sides of the streets; those who were seamstresses in life were still taking the clouds of Hell and weaving clothes from them; butchers dared not kill any more, but they could at least do things like sharpening knives and scissors.

Sounds of peddling and of cheering rose and fell, lively and energetic.

Mo Ran stopped in front of a ghost that was selling calligraphy and painting.

The ghost was stick-thin and sickly looking, with jutting cheekbones and a sunken-in stomach—probably didn't manage to sell a single painting in life and literally starved to death.

Seeing someone sit down at his booth, the skinny scholar looked up with bleary eyes, but his expression did not lack for passion, "Gongzi, looking to buy a painting?" "I want you to draw me a portrait."   The scholar seemed woeful, "Paintings of people can hardly compare to the artistry of landscape sceneries, take a look at this painting of Taishan Mountain draped in misty clouds…" Mo Ran said, "I don't care for landscape paintings. I just need you to draw someone for me."   "Don't care for landscapes huh?" The scholar shot him two glances,

displeased. "It is said that the kind know to appreciate the mountains, and the wise know to cherish the waters; Gongzi is still so young, you really ought to learn some culture, smell some ink. I didn't even want to part with my Taishan Mountain painting, actually, but since you had the taste to stop at my booth,

surely you also have some sense to go with it. How about, just for you, I'll cut the price to——"   "I want you to draw a person." Scholar: "..."   They had a stare down; of course the scholar was no match for him and fizzled out in no time, but then he got so mad that even that dead ghost face of his seemed to redden some.

"I don't draw people. It's ten times the price if you really want it." Mo Ran wondered, "Things cost money even in the Ghost Realm?"   "Paper money burned by friends and family, yes," the scholar replied coldly.

"Money makes the world go round; though I am disdainful of riches, a gentleman earns his money through proper work. We are neither family nor friends, nor do we have a relationship like that of Boya and Ziqi[18], so why would I do things for you without cause?" He rambled on and on, and it was all really too much for Mo Ran's very limited book knowledge. He could only frown and say, "I just got here, no one's burned any money for me yet." The scholar said, "No money, no deal." Mo Ran thought it over for a moment and came up with something. He pointed at the Taishan Mountain painting and said, "Alright, no deal then. But I'm bored with nothing to do, so could you tell me about landscape paintings?"   The scholar paused, then all of his anger turned into delight instead, "You're interested to know?" Mo Ran nodded, "Does it cost anything to learn some knowledge from you?"   "Nope," the scholar was quite conceited, his face lighting up in a way that was both laughable and pitiful. "Knowledge is free, money would only dirty it.

Scholarly matters mustn't be tainted by such material things."   Mo Ran nodded again as he thought to himself, ah, so that's how the little bookworm starved to death. It was kind of comical, but also a bit pitiful.

Unfortunately, he truly did not have any money right now, or else he really would give him some silver.

The scholar took the painting from its frame all excitedly, put on a pompous posture, cleared his ghost throat that didn't even need clearing, and then,

anxiously and snobbishly, said, "I'm going to start."   Watching the little bookworm take the bait, Mo Ran said with a smile, "Please do enlighten me."  

Author's Notes:

This chapter has many settings and quotes, I pay my respects to the young,

middle-class Mr. Lu Xun, who is a tsundere and loves to complain. The original forms of the female ghost and scholar ghost, as well as some of the quotes, come from Xianglin's Wife and Kong Yiji, stated here to avoid any misunderstandings.  

[15] The title technically translates to "where to start looking for shizun" but this is the closest phrasing that starts with shizun [16] 凡人介里许多人没慧根, 结不了善缘 this references Buddhist concepts of karma,

reincarnation, fate, and cultivation to reach enlightenment; simply put, one must have enough good karma from the previous life for a good fate that allows cultivation in this life. Most ordinary folks don't have the foundations necessary to cultivate, so normal people mocking those who have the privilege to cultivate is just them putting down something they wish they could have.

[17] 陪葬 item(s) buried with the dead to go to the afterlife with them

[18] Boya was a guqin player, and Zhong Ziqi was a person who could understand and appreciate his playing perfectly. When Ziqi died, Boya snapped the strings of his guqin and never played again because no one will ever understand him like that again.

Exemplifies close/ideal friendship. Wiki