Volume 6: Disturbed and Restless

Unnumbered and forgotten in the beginning of time, the Ghost Sovereign was but a wandering soul from the farthest antiquity, who devoted himself to cultivation and eventually forged a body of flesh. Even he had long since lost count of how many years he had lived. The longer he lived and the more he saw, the more everything became mere amusement to pass the time.

In his youth, bold and arrogant, he had been a spirit of ancient origin and naturally possessed a certain awe over the dead and the wraiths. He had once dabbled in many things, but he was especially passionate about the arts of cultivation and ancient martial ways, and through them he came to know the rulers of many realms. Of the five realms, however, his bond with the underworld was the deepest.

Whether because he had been born with an innate command over ghosts and monsters, or because of his long-standing connection with the underworld, at some unknown point the world outside began calling him the Ghost Sovereign.

Others grew used to the title, and he could not be bothered to change it.

To a being such as him, mortals were no more than mayflies. In the past, why would he ever have cared how a mayfly lived out its brief life? Yet now, when the Ghost Sovereign came back to his senses, he found himself in the underworld. His body moved on its own, and he was faintly curious where his subconscious had intended to lead him.

Soon enough, he had his answer.

In the Ghost Sovereign's mind, the one person most familiar to Xiao Jiu's memory accepted the bowl of Forgetful River broth without the slightest hesitation. After drinking it, all past ties between Xiao Jiu and that man were severed forever.

The Ghost Sovereign slowly lowered the hand he had half-raised. After playing for so many years, perhaps he had grown weary; to be affected this deeply by the memory of a mere mortal was almost absurd. He turned, intending to leave without a sound, but was called back by the Old Woman of the River.

"Lord Ghost Sovereign, since you have come, why not stay a while longer?" The old crone stirred the broth and used a ladle as wide as a palm to pour the next guest's bowl full.

The Ghost Sovereign narrowed his eyes slightly and stopped in his tracks. In the next instant he stood before her, his thin lips parting. "You old hag, you really are as nosy as ever."

The corner of the Old Woman of the River's mouth twitched. She forcefully ignored the mockery in his words. She should never have meddled with this old ghost; truly, kindness brought no gratitude.

The Ghost Sovereign gazed at the figure slowly receding into the distance, his expression unreadable. The underworld was unlike the mortal realm. Here, he could clearly feel the surge of spiritual power on that person's body, and his identity was all but plain to see. The Ghost Sovereign's voice turned colder. "Who was that just now?"

The Old Woman of the River lowered her head. Hearing that tone, she dared not jest. She hurriedly replied, "In answer to Lord Ghost Sovereign, that was the next Lord of the Underworld, currently undergoing his tribulation in the mortal world. Since it is inconvenient for certain interested parties to know of this, the underworld is publicly claiming that he is in seclusion. If we have inadvertently disturbed Your Lordship, we ask your pardon."

For a long while, no reply came. The Old Woman of the River glanced up and saw that the Ghost Sovereign had already gone. Alas, that old ghost was as difficult to serve as ever.

Leaving the underworld, another portion of memory concerning Liu Zhanyan gradually came into focus in the Ghost Sovereign's mind. The face of the one most deeply etched into that memory was identical to Ye Min's appearance in Xiao Jiu's recollection...

The Ghost Sovereign knew well that before each Lord of the Underworld took office, there was a mortal tribulation to undergo. They would live the lives of different people and taste every bitterness of the red dust. Yet there was one thing that never changed in each descent to the mortal world: their faces. Before every reincarnation, the Lord of the Underworld also had to drink a bowl of Forgetful River broth. Only the broth of the final life was different. After the tribulation was complete, the bowl they drank would allow them to let go of earthly trivialities and remember once more all that belonged to the underworld.

Still, in merely a few dozen days, he and that young Lord of the Underworld had actually passed through two mortal lives. With a sigh, he could not help but wonder whether this was all a little too coincidental.

The Ghost Sovereign touched the left side of his chest. Inside the flesh body he had finally forged, that heart was beating without pause. And in Xiao Jiu's memories, he had actually ended his own life with his own hand for the sake of a man. The Ghost Sovereign thought it over. Selfish as he was, no matter what, he ought to value his life. No one understood better than he how difficult it was for an ancient wandering soul to condense a body of flesh. If he perished so easily, he had no confidence he could begin again.

As he thought this, he did not know how long had passed when a tender child's voice sounded in his sea of consciousness.

"Mother, don't cry..."

Only then did the Ghost Sovereign realize that there was a slight dampness on his face. The small ball of light in his arms slipped free and gently brushed away the water at the corner of his eye. It seemed to have grown a little larger, and discovering that it had grown, it appeared quite excited, continuing to nuzzle the Ghost Sovereign's fair cheek.

Suppressing the emotions that were threatening to spill over, the Ghost Sovereign sighed helplessly and, a little awkwardly, drew the little ball of light into his arms. The child's voice rose once more in his sea of consciousness, then the little one slowly yawned. The Ghost Sovereign took his, ah, his son, and held him close again.

The Ghost Sovereign felt somewhat bewildered. He was neither Liu Zhanyan nor Xiao Jiu of the Xiao family. The ending of those two he could never accept. Yet he could not ignore the faint, indistinct emotions in his heart toward that person who had lived through two lifetimes with him and even borne him a child.

For example, if that young Lord of the Underworld were to spend his third life with someone else and have a child, he would certainly be even less able to endure it. The Ghost Sovereign could not help but frown, feeling as though something that belonged to him had been defiled by another.

He stroked his chin in thought. It was the first time he had ever felt this way, and his thoughts were rather tangled. After some consideration, he decided that these mortal trifles were best understood by the old fellow in Heaven. After all, that man was the one in charge of marriage and ties of fate. He might as well pay him a visit and have a few drinks along the way. At worst, he would simply be careful this time and not drink himself drunk. With that in mind, the Ghost Sovereign made up his mind and headed for Heaven.

In the Heavenly Realm, at the Hall of Longing.

After finishing his duties, the Old Matchmaker was resting in a reclined chair in his room, cushioned with clouds. In his arms lay a black cat.

The black cat lazily nestled in the Old Matchmaker's warm embrace, occasionally rubbing against the hand resting upon its body, looking exceedingly intimate.

As the Ghost Sovereign walked through the long corridor of the Hall of Longing, everything was quiet. He did not hear a single word from the old fellow's endless chatter. Calculating the time, he guessed that the Old Matchmaker must be taking a midday nap. He had originally intended to give that old man a good scare and thereby vent some of the frustration in his heart, but when he finally found the sleeping Old Matchmaker, the impulse faded.

A gentle breeze passed through. The newly hung wind chimes along the corridor rang in a clear and constant jingle. Yet upon closer listening, that seemingly noisy sound turned into a fine lullaby carried on the wind. The tune was lingering and graceful, soothing to the ear and heart alike, making one feel as though one stood amid the floating world while secretly dwelling in peaceful seclusion. When the melody ended, even a restless heart would gradually settle. From this, it was clear that whoever had hung these chimes had put real thought into them.

The black cat in the Old Matchmaker's arms sensed someone approaching and suddenly opened its eyes. Its dark blue pupils narrowed to thin slits. Its body arched as it glared fiercely at the Ghost Sovereign in full guard.

The Ghost Sovereign found it amusing, and his mood eased a little. From his angle, he could also see a faint barrier around the Old Matchmaker. Presumably this was set up by the cat to keep people from disturbing the old fellow's rest. Against petty demons, it would be no problem at all. But to block him? This cat had better practice for another ten thousand years before that became even remotely possible.

Using his sea of consciousness, the Ghost Sovereign said to the black cat, "Come out with me, and I will not disturb the old fellow's sweet dream."

After speaking, the Ghost Sovereign turned toward the pavilion. The black cat froze for a moment, looked back at the Old Matchmaker still lost in dreamland, then took a few steps forward and transformed into human form. Following what the Moon Elder had taught him, he put on his clothes before walking out.

Seeing Lan Li emerge in human form, the Ghost Sovereign raised a brow, a glint of amusement flashing through his eyes. The moon-white garment the little cat demon wore was made of Heaven's finest Cloud of Sorrow brocade, a material many immortals would have coveted but never obtained. Yet now it was being worn by a cat demon. If the old fellow's conduct were to spread, would he not fear becoming the laughingstock of all the immortals?

In Heaven, as far as the so-called immortals of the mortal world were concerned, relationships were hardly pure. To the Ghost Sovereign, the affairs among these immortals were no different from the struggles of emperors and ministers in a mortal court; most of it was merely for personal gain.

Only a small number, those with sufficient strength or a vast enough background, could act according to their own nature.

But that old fellow was neither. He was instead a rare soul of genuine feeling in Heaven. Come to think of it, if he were like the other immortals, the Ghost Sovereign might not have spared him even a glance.

On the small wooden table in the pavilion still sat a wine flask. The Ghost Sovereign poured two little cups and slid one to the far side of the table, toward Lan Li.

This little cat demon's eyes were like those of a newborn: pure, without the slightest impurity. His figure was long and slender, shoulders broad and waist narrow. The nine-tailed cat demon clan had always been blessed with stunning beauty, but this little cat was at best only neat and pleasant to look at, hardly above average in appearance. In a crowd, he would likely be unremarkable. And yet those eyes were extraordinarily beautiful. Anyone meeting the gaze of this little cat demon would naturally find themselves staring in a daze.

Lan Li tilted his head and pushed the cup back. Though his voice was the low, magnetic tone of an adult man, he spoke with a touch of innocent youthfulness. "Moon said no drinking."

The Ghost Sovereign's lips curved. He smiled like a fox demon trying to lure away someone else's child. In a gentle voice he said, "The old fellow is asleep. He won't know. If he wakes up, you may not get another chance to drink."

Lan Li pressed his lips together and wordlessly stared at the cup, swallowing. It smelled so good. Moon had indeed told him not to touch wine again for the time being. Lan Li secretly glanced toward the direction where the Old Matchmaker was sleeping, then swiftly picked up the cup and said solemnly, "Only one sip."

The Ghost Sovereign raised his cup in assent. "Fine. Just one sip."

He took a small sip himself, then looked at Lan Li again. Sure enough, it was one sip indeed, drained in a single breath. The Ghost Sovereign's smile deepened as he once more filled Lan Li's cup and said, "Just one sip."

Upon hearing this, Lan Li nodded with great seriousness. "One sip." And so once more, one cup was emptied in a single gulp.

The two repeated this over and over until the flask was soon drained. The Ghost Sovereign glanced at the Incense of Twin Infants, which had burned down to half, and looked at Lan Li, already slightly tipsy, and suddenly felt like voicing the confusion in his heart at last.