Chapter 125: Little Ghost

After finishing his noodles, Nie Shisan departed. Zhang Shouzhen sat in the shop, staring in the direction of the Bijun Hotel, lost in thought.

Daoist Qingxu had once warned him that if he ever encountered a shop run by ghosts, it was best not to enter. If one were to accidentally wander inside, one must never eat the food, as it would lead to illness at best and death at worst. Furthermore, he was never to touch anything inside, let alone speak to the ghosts; once a person spoke, the breath released would reveal to the spirits that they were living beings.

He pursed his lips, a look of melancholy in his eyes. He was missing his master again. Why had his master’s soul never come to find him? Had he already reincarnated, or had his soul scattered into nothingness?

"Young man, since you've finished, please leave. We are closing the shop."

The proprietress walked over, her face grim. She waved a greasy hand in front of Zhang Shouzhen’s eyes, snapping him back to reality. He looked around at the neighboring shops and noticed that many were already shuttered. It was only seven o'clock—the nightlife hadn't even begun. Even though they were in a small alley, the bustling main street was just outside. To close at such an hour… the people here were truly…

Could it be just as the old man had said? Thinking of this, he looked toward the entrance of the hotel where the old man had been setting up his stall, but the old man was long gone. Aside from him, all the other street vendors had vanished as well.

"Proprietress, this place is quite a distance from the Bijun Hotel. Even if it is haunted at night, surely it wouldn't affect you here?" Zhang Shouzhen asked, remaining seated.

Seeing him refuse to move, the proprietress grew anxious. She wrung her hands and said impatiently, "What would a young lad like you know? Once it hits eight o'clock, this alley becomes a Ghost Street. Ghosts pass through here at night on their way to the Bijun Hotel! We ordinary shops can't entertain such entities. We still want to live a few more years. Please, leave quickly—I’m begging you!"

"Oh? Is that so? Very well, I won't cause you any trouble, ma'am."

Zhang Shouzhen’s expression shifted slightly. He paid the bill and immediately left the shop, heading toward the Bijun Hotel. Outside the large courtyard, there was an iron gate leading to the intersection.

It was a T-junction, with the Bijun Hotel blocking the way. To the left and right were quiet, secluded alleys, while straight ahead, the bustling streets were usually brightly lit. Only now did he notice that the surrounding shops had all closed, and hardly a soul could be seen in the vicinity.

Suddenly, a cold, biting wind swept in from the distance—a chill that seemed to emanate from the depths of one’s soul. He took out his phone; it was 7:30. He glanced at the signal bar and saw that the signal had vanished. His heart sank; the magnetic field here was disturbed.

When he looked toward the alley ahead, the brightly lit main street was no longer visible. There was only pitch-black darkness, with a faint mist drifting from afar.

Zhang Shouzhen narrowed his eyes and activated his Azure Dragon Spirit Eye. With its aid, he saw a black vortex at the end of the alley, swirling slowly. It was from this vortex that the chilling, sinister ghostly aura emanated—a scent he knew all too well.

"The Underworld? Could this place be connected to the Underworld?!"

Zhang Shouzhen was slightly startled. Suddenly, he remembered Nie Shisan. Why hadn't he appeared yet?

Just as he was filled with doubt, a faint figure came running from another small alley. It was a breathless Nie Shisan, yet he was running with agonizing slowness, as if he were treading water in place. Zhang Shouzhen pinched a yellow talisman between his fingers and walked over slowly.

At that moment, laughter echoed from the distance. A sound of rushing air came from behind him, and he reflexively reached out, catching a ball in his hand.

"Give it back! Give me back my ball!"

A boy of about seven or eight stood with his hands on his hips, glaring at Zhang Shouzhen. The boy wore sandals, shorts, and a short-sleeved shirt. His skin was deathly pale, and his eye sockets were deeply sunken, appearing as pitch-black voids—a truly terrifying sight.

"Release my friend, and I will return the ball to you. Don't think I don't know you’re using some sleight-of-hand tricks!" Zhang Shouzhen stared coldly at the boy, speaking without a shred of politeness. He reached behind his back and drew his broken sword, glaring menacingly at the child.

The boy was no longer human; he was a ghost, and a powerful one at that—one who had reached the 'Day-Walking' realm. Otherwise, with Nie Shisan’s vital energy, how could he have been trapped by a mere 'ghost wall'? He had to appear fierce, or this little ghost would continue to provoke him.

Sure enough, seeing Zhang Shouzhen’s aggressive tone, his potent vital energy, and the weapon in his hand, the boy relented. He clapped his hands twice, and Nie Shisan’s pace suddenly quickened. Upon seeing Zhang Shouzhen, he wiped the sweat from his forehead and said, "Young Master, I was clearly heading toward you, but I couldn't seem to reach you no matter what. It’s like it’s haunted!"

He was carrying a black bag, and when Zhang Shouzhen glanced inside, he saw it filled with paper money and spirit currency.

"It is haunted, and it was just a prank by this little one to keep you from finding me."

Zhang Shouzhen pointed at the pouting ghost. Nie Shisan rubbed his eyes, but he couldn't see the spirit. Zhang Shouzhen realized that Nie Shisan was not a cultivator. Fortunately, he had the eye drops that Jiu'er had prepared for him. They were incredibly effective—the same drops that had allowed Shen Bijun, Li Fang, and Ma Yuxu to see ghosts at Shen Bijun's house.

He squeezed a few drops onto Nie Shisan’s eyelids. Nie Shisan felt a burning sensation and instinctively closed his eyes. A moment later, a cooling sensation washed over him. As he opened his eyes and saw the furious boy standing not far from Zhang Shouzhen, he nearly shrieked in terror.

"Give me back my ball, or I’ll get angry!"

The boy was terrified of Zhang Shouzhen. Although Zhang Shouzhen was thin and small, he practiced the *Taiqing Secret Records* and possessed the 'Nine Yang Pulse,' the exact opposite of Jiu'er’s 'Nine Yin Pulse.'

"You must answer me a question: why are you staying here? Why haven't you reincarnated? Are there no Underworld envoys coming to guide you?" Zhang Shouzhen did not return the ball, but asked instead.

"I’m waiting for my mother. She went into the big hotel. She said that once she earned enough money, she would take me away from here."

As the ghost spoke of his mother, his eyes turned slightly red, though no tears fell. Ghosts could not cry—or rather, those below the 'Manifested Yin' realm could not. Those at that realm or higher could, but tears were formed by condensed ghostly energy; shedding a single drop consumed a great deal of that energy, so high-level spirits rarely did so.

Zhang Shouzhen suddenly recalled the words of the Old Man of the Yellow Springs in the Underworld, who claimed that the 'Other Shore' flowers along the road to the Underworld were all formed from the tears of a great master. A shiver ran down his spine.

"What is your mother's name? Let’s go inside and find her." Zhang Shouzhen tossed the ball back to the boy, his tone softening. The child was merely playing pranks; he was pathetic, and Zhang Shouzhen did not know how long he had been waiting here, nor if his mother was dead or alive.

"I can't go in. They won't let me in. Big brother, you can't go in either. You're a living person!"

The little ghost struggled with his emotions. He stared at the Bijun Hotel, clutching his ball, and began to sob softly.