Chapter Forty-One: The Soul Leaves the Body

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Wei Qi and I were ordinary mortals; we couldn’t see anything beneath the mound. Yet, Li Dazian’s words extinguished the faint hope that had just sparked within me.

A corpse that does not decay. A female ghost guarding it. To take the blood amber would be easier said than done. That was just considering the difficulty—if you looked at it morally, what right did we have to take her blood amber? It had been buried underground for so many years; by what justification could we claim it for ourselves?

Yet, if we couldn’t find the blood lingzhi, the blood amber was the only hope left to save Wang Ying. What should I do? What on earth should I do?

Wei Qi spoke then, suggesting that since the ghost was a young woman who had died unjustly, perhaps we could arrange a ghost marriage for her and, in exchange, ask her to give up the blood amber. As soon as he voiced this idea, both Li Dazian and I found it reasonable. She had been alone underground for so long—surely she would agree to our request.

But how could we negotiate with her? Both Wei Qi and I were practitioners, but always at the invitation of a client seeking to arrange a ghost marriage. Now, this female corpse lay alone beneath the earth, with no one to speak for her.

“Master Li, is there a way?” Wei Qi asked Li Dazian.

Li Dazian pondered for a moment. “There is a way, but it’s difficult. How about we go down below and see for ourselves?”

Go down below? My heart sank. What did he mean?

Wei Qi glanced at me. “Dachuan, would you be willing to let your soul leave your body and descend to the underworld to meet this ghost?”

I knew about soul travel. My second uncle had told me: every living person has a soul—three souls and seven spirits. Some people in a vegetative state seem ill, but really, it's because their soul has wandered off, leaving only the primal spirit to sustain life. I’d only ever heard of such things, never experienced them myself. Was it really possible to let my soul leave my body and make such a journey? But for Wang Ying, I couldn’t care about these things.

I nodded seriously. “I’m willing.”

“Do you two trust me? If you do, I’ll protect you while you go down. You can meet the girl and negotiate with her privately. I believe arranging a ghost marriage for her is a feasible solution.” Li Dazian looked at the mound as he spoke.

“We trust you. Why don’t I go alone? Qi-shu, you and Master Li can stay here.” This business of soul travel was dangerous; I didn’t want Wei Qi to risk himself for me—I already owed him enough.

Wei Qi shot me a look. “Kid, do you not consider me your uncle? You think I’d let you go alone? Besides, I’ve never seen what the underworld looks like. No, we’re doing this together.”

Wei Qi’s excuse about wanting to see the underworld was just that—an excuse. I knew he wanted to accompany me. True brothers don’t fake loyalty; since he genuinely wished to come, I would go with him. In truth, I hoped he would join me.

“Master Li, let’s begin.” With Wei Qi by my side, I felt more at ease.

Li Dazian laughed. “You young men! Soul travel isn’t so simple. Go home and make proper preparations. We’ll start at midnight, precisely at twelve.”

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I laughed sheepishly, having thought it would be easy—it was clearly not. Back at home, under Li Dazian’s direction, we prepared yellow talisman paper, red thread soaked in human blood, and the clothes Wei Qi and I had most recently worn.

We didn’t know what any of it meant—we just followed Li Dazian’s instructions. Once everything was ready, he spoke to us with grave solemnity: “Are you both sure you want to go?”

Wei Qi and I nodded resolutely.

“My ritual can send you both down, but you must keep track of time. The road to the underworld only opens at midnight, and you must return before 2 a.m. During your journey, I will call for you. No matter what sights you see in the underworld, do not linger. If you miss the allotted time and your souls don’t return, your primal spirits will be unable to guard your bodies, and you will die. Even if your primal spirits remain, you’ll be left as vegetative husks. Do you understand?” Li Dazian spoke earnestly.

I turned to look at Wei Qi, who was already looking at me, a faint smile on his lips. “What’s wrong? Are you getting cold feet again, not wanting your uncle to go with you?”

Seeing the look in his eyes, I knew he was determined to accompany me, so I said no more. “Not at all! You have to go with me. It’s just that calling you ‘uncle’ feels too old—you’re only a couple years older than me. Can I call you brother instead?”

He smacked me lightly. “Dream on! When you call your second uncle ‘brother,’ then I’ll let you call me that. I have to be your uncle.” Li Dazian, observing our banter, smiled and said he felt reassured seeing us so at ease.

Time passed eleven o’clock. Li Dazian had us lie down on the bed in the clothes we’d prepared, and take out the needle and thread soaked in blood. He stuck the needle into our clothes, the thread trailing into his hand. “Remember this thread—it’s your way back. Make sure you return on time.”

Wei Qi and I nodded together. At the same time, I felt a surge of fear, worry, and excitement. So, it was possible for the living to travel through the underworld.

“Close your eyes and relax.” Li Dazian’s hands moved in gentle circles above our faces. I felt myself dozing off, then drifting into drowsiness, as if falling asleep. Suddenly, a gust of wind swept in from outside, and I jolted awake.

Looking around, I was startled—another me was lying beside me. When I looked at Wei Qi, he too had sat up—there were now two of him, one lying down, one sitting up.

“Dachuan, this is incredible!” Wei Qi exclaimed, touching his own body.

I came to my senses then. The versions of us lying on the bed were our bodies; the ones now sitting and moving were our souls. Nearby, Li Dazian sat cross-legged, the red thread in his hand transformed into two bright beams of light—our road home, no doubt.

“Dachuan, time is short, let’s hurry,” Wei Qi said, nudging me. I could feel his hand, though it was soft, lacking the solid firmness of flesh.

At the doorway, a sense of tragic grandeur washed over me, as if a warrior setting out, never to return. I couldn’t help but look back—and as I did, I caught a new discovery. On the bed, two more figures lay: one was Wang Ying’s soul, the other the female corpse.

Wang Ying’s soul and the corpse lay together, eyes tightly shut, utterly lifeless. Her soul was wounded; without Wei Qi’s soul-securing pill, it would have dissipated long ago.

“Qi-shu, wait a moment—I want to see Wang Ying.”

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Wei Qi nodded. I walked over to Wang Ying. She lay motionless on the bed. I gently touched her face. “Wife, can you hear me?”

There was no answer, no sign of life, just like her body.

Looking at her tightly shut eyes, my heart ached terribly. No matter what, I had to find the blood lingzhi. I must save her, whatever the cost.

“Dachuan, hurry, time waits for no one.” As I gazed at Wang Ying in silent grief, Li Dazian’s voice drifted through the air. I glanced at him—he still sat there, eyes closed, lips unmoving.

Wei Qi came to pull me away. “Let’s go. Once we bring back the blood amber, everything will be all right.”

We stepped outside, entering a completely different world. I remembered today was the seventh day of the lunar month, yet overhead hung a great, round moon. It was enormous but not bright, casting a pale, eerie glow reminiscent of a smog-choked night. The buildings around us had taken on bizarre, twisted shapes.

“Qi-shu, what’s happening?” I glanced around—this was nothing like our Wei family village.

“This is the underworld. Everything here differs from the world of the living. Look—those two white pillars of light behind us mark our way back. Don’t forget them.” Wei Qi took my hand, leading me forward, step by step.

We walked for over ten minutes and found no trace of the small bridge east of the village. Without the bridge, we couldn’t find the burial mound. The hazy night pressed in on all sides—I began to grow anxious.

“Qi-shu, what now?”

“Look for the tree. Do you remember that blood-red locust tree? Find it, and we’ll manage.”

In the dusky gloom, the winding paths crisscrossed beneath our feet, with odd houses and strange buildings on every side. There were many trees—pines and cypresses for the most part—but not a single locust tree with blood-red blossoms.

“Qi-shu, what do we do?” I was getting desperate. If we missed tonight, there might never be another chance.

“Look! Over there—a locust tree with red blossoms!” Wei Qi pointed to the entrance of a small courtyard on the left.

It was indeed a locust tree, its flowers as crimson as blood. But the trunk was massive—thick as a man’s body—whereas I remembered the girl’s grave had only a slender sapling.