Chapter Forty-Two: The Blood Locust Withers

“Let’s not overthink it. Let’s just go over and ask. Since there are blood-red locust blossoms here, there must be more nearby. It won’t hurt to ask around,” Wei Qi suggested, perhaps feeling pressed for time.

I thought his reasoning made sense, so the two of us walked over.

It was a thick locust tree, broader than a man’s arm span, its bark dark and scaled like a reptile, and its branches were heavy with crimson blossoms. I thought of the sapling on that girl’s grave—there was no comparison between the two.

Standing before the courtyard gate, both Wei Qi and I hesitated. After all, we’d never visited the realm of the dead before; who knew what sort of person might answer if we knocked?

After a short pause, I began to knock. Time was running out; we couldn’t afford to waste it.

The black door, adorned with a tiger-headed knocker, opened after two knocks, and a delicate face peeked out. The girl glanced at us both. “Who are you looking for?”

Her voice was gentle, soft with the warmth of the south, like a breeze in spring.

“We’re just passing through and wanted to ask if there are any more locust trees like this one in the vicinity—ones with red blossoms, not too tall,” I said, gesturing with my hands.

Her brows knitted slightly as she raised her eyes to me. “Who are you? What are you here for?”

“We’re living souls who’ve journeyed into the underworld. We’re looking for the owner of the blood-red locust tree—it’s a matter of great importance,” I replied, not wasting words, as time was of the essence.

“From the world of the living? Humans? I think I’ve seen you before. Was it you two who were chasing me that night?” she asked, a glimmer of realization in her almond-shaped eyes as she fixed them on me.

At her words, I suddenly understood. Wasn’t this the girl we’d followed that night? And this tree—could it be that very sapling we saw?

“You— you’re not… from that night…?” Wei Qi stammered awkwardly.

“That was me. There’s only one locust tree like this within a hundred miles. What do you want with me?” She was straightforward, showing no sign of fear.

Now that it was confirmed: this was the girl, this house was the grave mound, and this locust tree was the same one. Suddenly, I felt hope. Wei Qi quickly explained the purpose of our visit.

The girl gave a cold laugh. “You two are ridiculous, coming here to arrange a ghost marriage for me. Do you think I’m someone who needs that?”

She was indeed strikingly beautiful, with a unique charm and grace that few men could match. But we had no other way; we’d only thought of this out of desperation for the blood amber.

With an embarrassed face, I said, “Since you don’t want a ghost marriage, could you at least lend us the blood amber? Once we’ve found the blood ganoderma, we’ll bring it right back to you.” I wasn’t trying to trick her—I truly meant it. Surely she could lend it for a while?

Her expression grew stern. “I’m sorry, I can’t lend it to you. My corpse relies on the blood amber to endure.” With that, she moved to shut the door. I hurried to stop her, but the heavy black door pinched my hand. It hurt terribly!

“What are you doing? Robbery? Humans who trespass in the underworld—one call from me and the ghost officers will come and arrest you. You’ll never return,” she said with a faint, icy smile.

I apologized quickly, explaining that we meant no harm, that we’d come only to save Wang Ying. At this, her cold demeanor softened a little, her lips—like rose petals—trembling gently. “Actually, I’m rather moved. You’re doing this for your beloved—shows you’re a man of true feeling and loyalty. But I really can’t give you the blood amber. My corpse depends on it. My fiancé has gone to find a spirit medicine for me. With it, I can come back to life, and we’ll be together again.”

Her words left both Wei Qi and me stunned. I could believe in ghosts and spirits, but the prospect of resurrection—such things I had never witnessed!

“Is that possible? Who is your fiancé?”

“My fiancé is Ziyi, a prince from the Kingdom of Langya. I was poisoned behind the gates of Hejun. As I lay dying, Ziyi gave me a blood amber and told me to wait for him. He swore he’d find the medicine to bring me back to life. So my soul lingered with my corpse, sleeping with the blood amber. A few days ago, someone visited my grave, disturbing my soul, and that’s how I became separated from my body. That’s why I can’t give you the blood amber—I must wait for Ziyi,” she said earnestly.

My goodness! Such things truly existed? Linyi, the ancient city, was indeed called Langya—was it really once Langya’s territory? But Langya belonged to the Han dynasty—that was thousands of years ago! And this Ziyi—was there really a medicine to bring back the dead?

“Do you know what dynasty it is now?” Wei Qi leaned in, asking cautiously.

She shook her head. “I don’t know. I have no idea how long I’ve slept. When I awoke, I wandered out at night, but everything was different. The buildings of Langya were gone, and I couldn’t find my fiancé.”

A trace of sadness crossed her face.

Wei Qi glanced at me, giving a bitter smile, then turned back to her. “Miss, you really don’t know what dynasty it is?”

She paused, bewildered. “What dynasty? It doesn’t matter—Ziyi will come for me.”

Wei Qi shook his head. “Miss, over two thousand years have passed since the Han dynasty. Your Ziyi… he’s long gone.”

She froze, her expression tightening. “What? What did you say? It’s been over two thousand years? You’re saying Ziyi will never come for me?” Her eyes reddened, grief overwhelming her.

I’d thought my own feelings for Wang Ying were deep, but compared to hers, mine were nothing. Their love was truly tragic and heroic.

Seeing her so heartbroken, I wished I didn’t have to reveal the truth. But hiding it would only be crueler. We quickly explained the changes in dynasties and the passage of time. She listened, tears streaming down her face.

After she’d cried for a while, wiping her tears, she quietly opened the door. “Come in. Since Ziyi is gone, he’s surely been reincarnated many times. Even if we met, he wouldn’t recognize me, nor remember me. What use have I for the blood amber now? Take it.”

We followed her inside. The house was small, not quite a proper courtyard, but there were rooms on both sides—surprising, since in the world of the living, it was just a mound of earth. But in the underworld, it was a different world entirely. No wonder foreign scientists say we live in a sixteen-dimensional space—perhaps it’s true.

The room was small, lit by a single blue lantern. Yet it was bright enough. There was a white bamboo bed, with white curtains, and a girl lying on the bed—identical to the one before us. It was her corpse. On her chest, nestled just above her heart, lay a piece of blood-red amber, glossy, translucent, like blood and like jade. This, no doubt, was the blood amber Li Danian had spoken of.

With slender fingers, the girl picked it up and handed it to me, her voice sorrowful. “Take it. Go, please.”

“What about you, once we leave?” Wei Qi turned to her.

“It doesn’t matter. There’s no point in keeping this corpse. Go on. True love comes only once—it’s hard to find. Take it,” she murmured, lowering her eyes, her face full of grief. My heart ached to see her like that.

“Or… would you like us to find you a ghostly companion? At least you’d have company here…” Wei Qi, ever kind-hearted, suggested again, seeing how lonely she was.

“Thank you, but there’s no need. Even if Ziyi will never come, he’ll always be in my heart—I can’t forget him. If you have nothing else, you should go,” she replied, her voice low, her head never lifting. The news we brought had extinguished all her hopes and dreams.

As I left, blood amber in hand, I couldn’t describe what I felt. It was as if Wang Ying stood living before me. But what would become of this girl? Alone, forsaken in the underworld—what was to become of her? After all these years, a restless soul unable to cross the Bridge of No Return.

Just as I hesitated, Wei Qi tugged at my sleeve and doubled back. He walked up to the girl. “Miss, my name is Wei Qi, and this is Wang Dachuan. We’re both soul-walkers—why not come with us to the world of the living? We can’t bring you back to life, but you won’t be so lonely, and his blood can sustain you. Your soul won’t dissipate.”

The girl looked startled, then glanced gratefully at Wei Qi. “Thank you for your kindness, but there’s no need. You should go—your time is short.”

Some things can’t be forced. Whether living or dead, she was a woman. If we pressed too much, it might seem improper. As we left, I joked with Wei Qi, “Uncle Qi, do you like her?”

He denied it at once. “No, I don’t like ghosts. I like people.”

He looked so earnest that I dropped the joke. We hurried back the way we’d come. Halfway, it struck me that I didn’t even know the girl’s name. She had helped us, and yet we didn’t know her name!

I wanted to go back and ask, but time was truly running out—Li Danian was already calling us back from the world of the living.

Guided by the two beams of light, we returned easily, finding ourselves back in my house. Wei Qi and I slowly lay down in our own bodies, and soon drifted off to sleep. When I next awoke, dawn had broken.

Li Danian was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, meditating. Wei Qi was already up, lost in thought. I scrambled to my feet and found a piece of blood-red stone in my hand—redder and glossier than chicken-blood stone. This was the blood amber.

Looking at Wang Ying, I wished she could wake as I had. But it was impossible—even with the blood amber, she wouldn’t awaken, unless we found the blood ganoderma.

Li Danian, seeing me awake, guided me to place the blood amber on her chest. Only then did he sigh in relief. “Dachuan, now that you have the blood amber, her body and soul are sealed for the time being. She’ll be safe for at least a year or two. You can focus on finding the blood ganoderma.”

Wei Qi came over and began discussing last night’s events. Li Danian asked us what the underworld was like, and we described it for him. Talking about the underworld, I remembered the nameless girl. Wang Ying was safe for now, but I wondered how she was faring.

Li Danian suggested I buy some yellow spirit money to burn as an offering—a matter of custom and of gratitude. I thought it was a good idea, so I bought some paper at the village entrance, cut it, and went out with Wei Qi. On the way, Wei Qi insisted on bringing Li Danian along to see the lonely grave and the girl beneath it.

As we stepped outside, everything familiar around me brought back memories of that strange night. I couldn’t help but wonder: was this a parallel world? The realms of the living and the dead existing side by side without conflict.

Crossing the small bridge, we reached the solitary grave. My cheerful mood faded in an instant.

The locust tree had withered overnight. The blood-red blossoms were strewn on the ground like spilled blood. The once-green leaves had dried and curled up in decay.