Chapter 67: Gou Die

“Gou Die?”

Sha Lifei swallowed hard, his gaze toward Wu Laosi filled with awe: “I heard this thing belongs to the Yin Messengers—did you rob them? Impressive, truly impressive!”

Wu Laosi blinked in surprise, quickly waving his hands: “Ah, don’t speak so recklessly—I’ve only reached the second floor of cultivation, no such ability, and certainly no such courage.”

Saying this, he swiftly closed the box.

As if even one more glance would invite disaster.

Li Yan frowned. “This thing… is connected to your trouble?”

“Not trouble…”

Wu Laosi sighed, his face turning pale:

“It’s a debt—owed to the Netherworld!”

Sha Lifei grew even more curious: “Does the Yin Court even lend money at interest?”

Wu Laosi froze again, staring at Sha Lifei as if baffled by the bald, bearded man’s train of thought.

“Don’t interrupt!” Li Yan tugged Sha Lifei, then nodded. “Master, please continue.”

Wu Laosi shook his head. “This Gou Die is tied to lineage.”

“Those who cultivate Yin arts mostly venerate the Primordial Yin Deity. My lineage received the Gou Die from our ancestors and has passed it down, worshipping the Northern Yin Fengdu Great Emperor. Occasionally, we’re commissioned by the Yin Court to capture fugitive spirits.”

Li Yan frowned. “What does the Yin Court look like?”

“I don’t know,” Wu Laosi grimaced. “How could mortals comprehend the Netherworld? After each journey into the Yin, I remember only what I was tasked to do—nothing else.”

Sha Lifei couldn’t help but interject: “Even Yin Messengers need help?”

Wu Laosi nodded. “According to my master, across Shenzhou, wherever humans dwell, deities are venerated, and divine Gang gather.”

“Not to mention the Celestial Grottoes and Blessed Lands where Primordial Gang converge—some places are even inaccessible to Yin Messengers.”

“Holding the Gou Die grants certain advantages—for instance, commanding the Yin Ghost Army without needing to raise troops—but it also demands obligations: capturing Yin fugitives.”

“These fugitives are either dead souls who refuse to depart, becoming vengeful ghosts, or cultivators who used forbidden arts to return to life, or hide in Celestial Grottoes as living corpses.”

“Our duty is to find them, issue the Gou Die, and cast them into the Netherworld. Thus, even the Tai Xuan Zheng Jiao must treat Gou Die bearers with respect.”

Sha Lifei blinked. “With so many benefits, why are you hiding here?”

Wu Laosi smiled bitterly. “Because I failed my mission.”

“Once, the Yin Court sent me a dream command to capture a soul who had escaped the Netherworld and returned to life. But it turned out to be my lifelong friend—I showed favoritism, used a trick to make him fake his death. Yet spirits and gods cannot be deceived; the truth eventually surfaced.”

“Worse still, I misjudged him—his resentment lingered, turning him into a vengeful ghost that slaughtered my entire family. Though he was cast into the Netherworld, I too broke sacred taboos.”

“To protect myself, I sealed my spiritual channels and hid here.”

“If I ever journey into the Yin again, I will die without fail!”

“I see.”

Li Yan’s heart sank. “Then we won’t trouble you further.”

To act would mean death. Wu Laosi had hidden in this theater troupe for years—he clearly wouldn’t risk his life for others, and Li Yan wouldn’t force him.

“Young brother, you misunderstand.”

Wu Laosi shook his head. “I told you all this precisely because I intend to act.”

Saying this, he unfastened his robe and slowly revealed his back.

Li Yan and Sha Lifei drew in a sharp breath.

His back was covered in dense, dark purple marks, like tattoos deeply embedded in the skin, faintly forming a pattern:

At its center was the Gou Die, surrounded by chains!

Wu Laosi put his robe back on and sighed. “Men can be deceived, but spirits and gods cannot. Some things are unavoidable—this day was bound to come. My time is short.”

“I will act this time—but I have two conditions.”

Li Yan nodded solemnly. “Master, speak.”

Wu Laosi pulled from his bosom a jade pendant depicting fish playing among lotuses, his eyes slightly red, voice trembling: “I was originally from Fengyang County, modestly well-off. When the incident happened, I fled in terror, burying my dead wife and daughter hastily, without even a tombstone. These years, guilt has haunted me day and night.”

“After I die, I beg you to carry my remains home, let me rest beneath my native soil, and give my wife and daughter a proper funeral.”

He pressed his hand against the lacquered box. “And this Gou Die—my lineage’s ancestral shrine lies deep within the Qinling Mountains. My family line has dwindled, incense has faded. Please return the Gou Die to the altar of the Fengdu Great Emperor.”

“If you agree, I can depart in peace.”

Li Yan fell silent a moment, then bowed solemnly. “I swear I will not fail your trust.”

Wu Laosi nodded. “The journey into the Yin can be performed tonight. But if your soul becomes trapped in the wandering spirit jar, I cannot bring you back—I can only determine your location.”

“Knowing the location is enough!” Sha Lifei beamed.

Master Wan had said: once the location was confirmed, they could summon help from the City God Temple. Even if Chen Fa’s puppet arts were powerful, the Enforcement Hall officers would jump at the chance to make an arrest.

Wu Laosi rose. “Then let us prepare.”

“Xianyang has many temples, strong incense, and Yin Soldiers of the City God stationed nearby—easily disturbed. We must go outside the city.”

“Also, I need a coffin, a rooster, a bell, five-colored earth, yellow wine, three catties of paper money and ingots…”

Li Yan and Sha Lifei noted each item down—luckily, all were ordinary items, no magical artifacts required.

When done, they stepped outside.

As they left, Wu Laosi tidied the room, arranged everything neatly, and even locked the door.

When they reached the courtyard, the servant waited there, smiling and bowing: “Gentlemen, Manager Luo has prepared wine and food.”

Wu Laosi shook his head. “Zhu, take me to see the manager.”

“Yes, Uncle Wu, please follow me.”

The servant didn’t dare delay and hurried ahead.

Through the corridor, they arrived at another courtyard.

This courtyard was grander, with a small pavilion behind it, artificial hills and ponds, and a tiny opera stage built right in the center of the pond.

Clearly, this was where esteemed guests were received.

One could imagine: the bright moon overhead, mist drifting over the pond, the stage performing tales of joy and sorrow, guests toasting beneath it—what a pleasure.

“Hahaha…”

As they entered the garden, Luo Shihai’s laughter rang out.

He strode forward, smiling and clasping his fists. “Old man here is truly blind! I never guessed such a remarkable man hid among the troupe. If I’ve ever slighted you, please forgive me.”

In the Jianghu, some things aren’t secrets.

Youngsters like Zhu didn’t know, but he did—the manager of the Jiangzuo Guild was a true Xuan Gate cultivator.

The Zhou family’s misfortune was tied to him.

Li Yan came bearing his letter of introduction—no doubt, the unassuming Wu Laosi was also a Xuan Gate cultivator.

Wu Laosi fell silent a moment, then bowed deeply.

“Ah, Brother Wu, what are you doing?” Luo Shihai panicked, rushing forward to help him up.

But Wu Laosi insisted on kneeling. “All these years, I’ve hidden among the troupe, with little skill, only doing menial work—all because Manager Luo was kind enough to give me food and shelter, never driving me away.”

“I have nothing to repay you but this bow of gratitude.”

He rose slowly, his expression solemn. “For years, the prosperity of Longchang Troupe has owed much to the century-old ancestral statue—its power has stabilized our fortune, drawing talent to us.”

“But time has passed, and the statue has birthed a treasure—likely drawing the attention of wicked cultivators. Recently, someone sneaked in, and I scared them off.”

“After I’m gone, you must remain vigilant.”

“What?!”

Luo Shihai was stunned, then thrilled. “Brother Wu, did you see who it was?”

Born into wealth, he knew of celestial treasures—he never imagined one had appeared in his own theater.

Wu Laosi whispered: “A sorcerer from Jiangzuo, who usually hides within the Iron Knife Gang, helping Zheng Heibei kill several people. Be wary.”

Saying this, he bowed and took his leave with Li Yan.

Luo Shihai stood frozen, no longer hungry, his face shifting between anger and calculation. Then he gritted his teeth: “Zhu, take me to Taixing Carriage Yard—I’m acting tonight!”

“How dare they covet my treasure!”

…………

Unnoticed, night fell.

Outside Xianyang, by the Wei River’s bank, in a grove of trees.

Beneath an ancient locust tree, Li Yan and Sha Lifei swung their shovels relentlessly, piling dirt on either side, slowly digging a deep pit…

(End of Chapter)