Chapter 32: The Nether Dragon Hall

Director Zhou and his team rushed into the secret chamber beneath the crematorium furnace. The Eight Trigrams Yin Formation had already been destroyed, but traces of magical energy still lingered in the air—so chaotic that it must have been the result of various talismans unleashing their power at once.

Besides the remnants of spellwork, there were bloodstains in several places.

“All the blood has been tainted by corpse energy. It can’t be analyzed,” reported a bespectacled woman in a professional suit.

“There are cigarette butts on the ground with saliva traces, but we have no idea which master stopped this tragedy,” the young woman who had been Director Zhou’s driver said with admiration.

“A master capable of breaking the Seven Fiends Formation must have attained at least the Lesser Resurrection stage,” added the man with iron arms, his expression full of awe.

“This master desires neither fame nor fortune—he performed his heroics and left without a word. Truly the bearing of a sage,” the bespectacled woman agreed, her face alight with reverence.

“That’s enough. You’re all privy to classified information. Not a word of this leaves the room, not even to others in the Bureau,” Director Zhou said sternly.

I had no idea, as a novice who had just entered the path of the Onmyoji, that I would be regarded as a selfless master by the elite of the National Bureau of Special Incident Investigation.

Nor did I know that Zhang Ru Yue, whom I had personally buried, would crawl out from her grave and vanish without a trace.

And I could never have foreseen that, in the following month, a mysterious virus would sweep through Zhang Family Village in Wushan’s Yanshui Town, claiming the lives of all its inhabitants. The entire town was quarantined, especially the village and the vast forest beyond.

Soon after, a political earthquake shook Wushan. Every official with ties to the Zhang family was ousted—at least two-thirds were purged.

On the day I left Wushan, I met Ye Cheng again at the Green Barbecue House, only this time there was a new companion: Gu Li Jinsha.

Ye Cheng and I drank heavily. When the night deepened and there were no more customers, Qingqing locked the doors and joined us. The atmosphere was so lively that even Gu Li Jinsha, who normally never touched alcohol, was coaxed into drinking.

By the end, Ye Cheng, tipsy and flushed, grinned at me and said, “Madman, I really admire your skills with women. Look at you, even daring to get involved with a member of the Moon Clan.”

I burst out laughing. “I, on the other hand, admire your ability to be swept off your feet. How was that night, huh?”

We’d both forgotten about the women, exchanging drunken, mischievous glances.

Gu Li Jinsha, unaccustomed to alcohol, was already tipsy after half a glass of strong liquor. She was about to protest, but Qingqing held her back.

“Men talk nonsense when they’re drunk. Save it for when you’re alone together,” Qingqing said.

So—wait until there’s no one else around to settle scores? Well, so be it.

She seemed to realize something was off, but couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

“Madman,” Ye Cheng suddenly rapped the table, fixing me with a silly grin.

“Damn it, don’t look at me like that, you creep,” I laughed, slapping him on the head.

“One more drink, just one more. Who knows if we’ll ever see each other again?” Ye Cheng downed another cup and passed out on the table, dead to the world.

My hand paused in mid-air. I staggered to my feet. “I’m leaving. No need to see me off tomorrow.”

Gu Li Jinsha followed, unexpectedly slipping her arm over my shoulder.

“Old Gu, a woman’s hand should go here,” I said, removing her hand and linking it with mine instead.

I called a cab to the room I’d booked at Wushan Grand Hotel. Once inside, the warmth made my drunkenness surge. My head spinning, I collapsed onto the bed and blacked out.

In a daze, I dreamed I was rolling in bed with a sultry, voluptuous girl.

Just as things were getting heated, a pressing urge forced me awake.

As I opened my eyes, my body froze: Gu Li Jinsha was nestled against my chest, my hand inside her shirt, gripping something soft, and my lower body pressed tightly against her hips.

I hastily withdrew my hand, tumbled off the bed, and dashed to the bathroom.

How did I end up sharing a bed with Gu Li Jinsha? If she found out I’d taken advantage, she might chop me to pieces.

Then again, I’d misjudged her—she might seem unremarkable, but she’s got more to her than meets the eye.

I didn’t dare return to bed and quietly slipped into the other bedroom.

We’d booked a two-bedroom suite. I guessed both of us had been too drunk and crashed as soon as we hit the bed.

Meanwhile, Gu Li Jinsha opened her eyes. Her previously steady breathing quickened. Curling into herself, she placed her hands over her pounding heart and let out a soft sigh.

The next morning, when I woke, she was gone, having left only a note saying she’d returned to Xiliang.

I sat on the sofa, smoking a cigarette with a sense of loss. My addiction was growing—perhaps it was the sudden shift from ordinary life to dealing with monsters and spirits, or the repeated brushes with death, that weighed on me more than I cared to admit.

I recalled what Ye Cheng had said over drinks—three days ago, he’d noticed I seemed darker, but now he found me terrifying. Though he’d said it half-jokingly, it struck a chord of fear within me.

I had changed. I knew it. The abrupt transformation left me unsettled.

I headed to the bathroom for a shower, then stood naked before the mirror.

It wasn’t vanity—my body really had changed. Dressed, I looked only a bit stronger, but stripped down, the sculpted lines of muscle were clear, and I could feel power surging beneath my skin.

This was a result of the half-yin, half-yang spirit thread from Zhang Ru Yue.

Karma fulfilled. How ironic—people die, and this is the outcome?

I gazed at the Dragon Eye on my chest and sensed something different. When I stared, it felt as if it stared right back.

Around the Dragon Eye, a ring of tiny scales had appeared.

I thought of the Jiao Spirit—it must be the beast soul from the Myriad Spirits Ring. The Dragon Eye had devoured it, but it reappeared to help me devour the vengeful ghost’s soul when I was nearly consumed myself.

I’d absorbed the last fragment of that malicious spirit—a pure survival instinct. My senses seemed sharper now.

“Is there another space inside the Dragon Eye?” I wondered. Otherwise, where had the Jiao Spirit gone?

I tried focusing my mind on the Dragon Eye. Suddenly, my vision went black and my head spun.

When I came to, I was astonished to find myself standing before a grand, pitch-black hall.

The doors were tightly shut, carved with a massive dragon’s head—thick, distinct scales, bristling whiskers, gaping jaws, and a single eye in the center of its brow—just like the Dragon Eye on my chest, only magnified.

On either side of the doors were strange runes, unlike any system I knew. They resembled the blue runes from the tomb chamber and the Eight Trigrams Yin Formation.

As I concentrated, I suddenly understood their meaning.

The runes on the left signified Karma; those on the right, Reincarnation.

The moment I comprehended them, nine diamond-shaped openings appeared on both the Karma and Reincarnation doors.

The first two openings on the Karma side glowed with a faint, eerie light, while a third, half-yin, half-yang spirit thread stretched from the third opening into the void.

I froze. Were those glowing openings the marks of karmic bonds I’d resolved? One was the ghostly affair with He Wenjing, the other, Zhang Ru Yue.

The third spirit thread represented a karmic debt yet unfinished.

But I recalled having closed the karmic cycle of a Yang Spirit thread—Xu Baoguo’s family—yet it wasn’t reflected here.

I looked toward the nine openings on the Reincarnation door. Only one glowed, and as I focused on it, a sudden roar startled me.

In the next instant, I saw the Jiao Spirit’s head emerge from the opening, glaring at me with fury.

I stepped back, realizing that this was where the Jiao Spirit, devoured by the Dragon Eye, now resided.

Too fierce to provoke, I returned my attention to the Karma door.

I couldn’t help but reach out to the two illuminated openings.

Suddenly, three black crystals appeared in the first opening, radiating intense yin energy.

The second produced two long, shining fingernails—clearly those of a zombie, but unlike any ordinary ghoul’s, these gleamed like diamonds, sharp enough to slice through anything.

I was stupefied. Was this some kind of reward?

What exactly is the Dragon Eye on my chest?

At that moment, the Jiao Spirit, which had just been roaring at me, darted out, fixing its greedy gaze on the three black crystals in my hand.

I guessed these crystals must be of immense value to spirits or ghosts.

“You want them?” I asked.

The Jiao Spirit nodded eagerly.

“We’ll see how you behave,” I laughed.

Suddenly, my head spun, my body shuddered, and I snapped back to reality, still standing naked before the mirror.

A dream?

But the three black crystals and two zombie claws now lay on the sink.

I stared in disbelief for a long moment, then gathered the items, dressed, and checked out.

Driving back to Linjiang, I spent an evening in my parents’ room, searching for clues about the Dragon Eye, but found nothing.

The next day, I returned to the hospital to end my leave.

I learned that Wang Meiyu had resigned the day before and become Fu Yiman’s manager.

It struck me then that I’d been so tense in Wushan I’d barely given her a thought.

Yet she hadn’t called or messaged me, not even once.

Even if she’d decided to let go of our ambiguous relationship and remain just friends—almost lovers—I’d have understood. I was too unreliable, and after all that I’d been through, I feared my karma might spill over onto an ordinary person like her.

Still, no matter what, she should have told me before quitting.