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"Alright," Liu Wu hastily responded.
"Zhao Daren, you already know the origins of Wenchang Road. But after the ghost disaster, the Liu family suffered greatly. Once the disaster was quelled, many distant relatives quickly distanced themselves, considering the place unlucky."
Many distant relatives and clansmen who had previously attached themselves to the Liu family left one after another. The once vast Liu family scattered like monkeys from a fallen tree, showing signs of decline overnight.
As Fan Bisi had said, after that, many of Liu Huacheng's descendants died, and he dispersed half of his family wealth, thus deciding to relocate his entire family, leaving the sorrowful Wan'an County to start anew.
Because the Liu family ancestral shrine had been haunted, it was considered very inauspicious. Therefore, before moving, Liu Huacheng changed the place into a Confucian Temple, dedicated to the Confucian Sage, and left a temple keeper there to watch over it.
"That temple keeper was very kind. On the first and fifteenth day of every month, he would certainly distribute porridge. This attracted many people to line up for food."
Liu Wu was eager to curry favor with Zhao Fusheng, knowing that she was about to head to Beggar's Alley to deal with the ghost disaster. He naturally believed that the more he knew about Beggar's Alley, the better. Thus, he tried his best to recount everything he knew: "As time went on, hearing about the charity, many people came from far and wide."
Many homeless people gathered in the area. Whenever the Confucian Temple distributed food, Wenchang Road would be bustling with people.
"The temple keeper was benevolent and couldn't bear to see the poor suffer. Later, he simply distributed food more often; over twenty years ago, he began providing one meal daily."
As a result, more and more beggars appeared, and eventually, the area near the Confucian Temple became a habitat for homeless beggars. Hence, locals playfully nicknamed it 'Beggar's Alley'. As for the original name of that road, after decades, many people probably no longer remembered it.
People in this era generally had short lifespans. Ordinary people lived difficult lives, lacking proper clothes and food. Besides toiling for their livelihood, they also had to face ghost disasters. In a mere forty years, Wan'an County had already seen a generation change.
Today, she was lucky. When she found the County Yamen, the local county magistrate had brought a bailiff who had been distantly related to the former Liu family, and whose grandfather had coincidentally experienced the ghost disaster forty years ago. Only then was Zhao Fusheng able to learn of this past event.
"So that's how it is."
Zhao Fusheng sighed, still lost in thought, when Liu Wu suddenly spoke with some trepidation: "Zhao Daren—"
His voice trembled, as if he was quite frightened. As soon as his voice fell, seeing Zhao Fusheng look up at him, he revealed a pleading expression: "Please spare my life. I have an old parent above me and a young child below. My son hasn't taken my place yet. I don't want to enter Beggar's Alley—"
The Demon Suppression Division personnel were always temperamental, treating human lives as insignificant. When handling ghost cases, they often seized innocent people as scouts, using them to detect the killing rules of malevolent spirits. The county magistrate had called him today to drive the carriage, intending for him to 'handle matters' for Zhao Fusheng, and this trip would likely be a one-way journey.
He had been trembling with fear all along, but seeing Zhao Fusheng's gentle disposition, not appearing violent or bloodthirsty, and her speaking tone being mild, he was also eager to please her. Their conversation throughout the journey had been smooth, and only now did he dare to plead boldly. Dealing with malevolent spirits, Ghost Controllers were ten deaths out of nine, and Envoys often died. Let alone ordinary people with no courage or experience facing malevolent spirits.
Zhao Fusheng was taken aback. Before she could speak, Liu Wu said with a hint of despair:
"We've reached the South City."
He finished speaking, then pointed with a trembling hand: "Go straight ahead for a few dozen zhang, and you'll see Beggar's Alley. Look, the sky over there is dark and ominous."
Zhao Fusheng followed the direction indicated by his trembling arm. Indeed, the sky in the distance was dark, thick black qi swirling above it, and the entire area below seemed shrouded in gloomy clouds, devoid of any vitality. A chilling, malevolent aura assaulted her, making her hairs stand on end.
Ghost Realm!
Zhao Fusheng's heart jolted. Liu Wu's face was pale, his nostrils flaring with suppressed gasps for breath: "Zhao Daren, please spare my life—"
Zhao Fusheng composed herself, seeing his terrified expression, which was devoid of the earlier subservience and eagerness to please, now mixed with apprehension and reluctance. Although she knew the trip to Beggar's Alley was dangerous, and had guessed the Demon Suppression Division's usual 'rules' for handling cases from Liu Wu's behavior, she was born in a peaceful world and could not disregard a human life.
"Do you have a fire starter with you?"
Zhao Fusheng suddenly remembered something and asked Liu Wu.
Liu Wu was stunned for a moment, then nodded hastily: "Yes!"
As he spoke, he frantically pulled out a fire starter from his person and handed it over fearfully.
"Scram!" Zhao Fusheng took it and tucked it into her bosom, then imperiously commanded: "Don't obstruct my work!"
Liu Wu, upon hearing this, felt as if he had received a grand pardon.
A 'clang' echoed, and both of them instinctively turned their heads towards the sound's origin. Zhao Fusheng then noticed that around the street corner, ten zhang away from the carriage, there was a makeshift stall.
The stall had a stove, with a large pot sitting on it, the water inside bubbling and gurgling, steam rising. An old woman, about seventy years old, was currently standing with one hand on her hip, while the large iron ladle she held in her other hand clattered as it fell into the pot.
Zhao Fusheng and Liu Wu's conversation seemed to have caught the old woman's attention. She heard the sound of a woman's voice and, disregarding the ladle that had fallen into the pot, took two steps forward, as if wanting to get a clear look at Zhao Fusheng's face. Just then, the sound of her ladle falling also alerted Zhao Fusheng. Their eyes met as they turned, and the old woman squinted at her for a moment, then the light in her eyes dimmed.
She fumbled uncertainly to pick up the ladle that had fallen into the pot, grimacing from the scald. Facing Liu Wu's gaze, she was a little timid, but bravely called out: "Two guests, would you like a bowl of hot soup?"
Liu Wu, of course, had no mind for soup. The moment Zhao Fusheng allowed him to leave, he wished he could sprout wings and fly away. As Zhao Fusheng descended from the carriage, he didn't even bother to say goodbye. He simply shook the reins, the long whip landing on the mule's rump, and the animal, startled by the pain, galloped away.
The old woman, holding the steaming ladle, watched the carriage disappear, then turned her gaze back to Zhao Fusheng. The young woman's gaze was steady, staring directly at her.
The old woman was aged, short, thin, and slightly hunched. Her hair was already grey, tied back with a worn, frayed cloth. The apron tied around her waist was old, and her clothes were patched all over, indicating a very poor life. She didn't seem to have anything eerie about her.
Although this old woman dared to set up a stall near where a ghost case occurred, she was clearly not a ghost. Zhao Fusheng's suspicions gradually faded, and her gaze softened. The old woman was initially very uneasy under her scrutiny, but only after Zhao Fusheng's expression changed did she relax, quietly asking again: "Do you want some soup?"
"What kind of soup is it?" Zhao Fusheng asked casually. As she spoke, she glanced around.
Perhaps because Beggar's Alley was haunted, the surroundings were unusually desolate. This street felt like a dead end, even more deserted than the Demon Suppression Division's own street. The old woman setting up a stall here seemed particularly strange. She didn't know what kind of soup was simmering in the pot, steam rising from it, and it didn't smell like any exquisite delicacy. But perhaps it was because she was about to venture into a dangerous place alone, or because she hadn't eaten a single grain of rice since her rebirth, but she actually found the soup in the pot incredibly fragrant, making her mouth water.
"It's just some common wild vegetables stewed into soup—would you like a bowl?"
She nervously rubbed her hands on her apron twice, then took small steps, intending to reach for the tall stack of bowls beside her.
"No, thank you."
Zhao Fusheng quickly replied. She glanced at the soup simmering in the old woman's pot again, then thought for a moment: "I won't drink it now. If I'm lucky enough to survive, perhaps I can have a bowl when I see you next time."
Zhao Fusheng didn't know the old woman's background or why she dared to set up a stall selling soup so close to the ghost path. But her eyes were gentle, and she had a heartbeat and breathing—she was clearly human, not a ghost. That was enough.
"You—"
The old woman was stunned by her words.
Zhao Fusheng smiled and turned to leave, but the old woman suddenly called out to her: "Child." She dropped the large ladle into the soup pot, wiped her hands on her apron, and warned her: "Don't go any further. That place is haunted."
Zhao Fusheng turned her head upon hearing this. The woman flinched slightly, intimidated by her gaze, but ultimately hardened her resolve and spoke again: "Beggar's Alley up ahead is haunted... many people have gone in and never come out again. They're trapped inside. You're still young, don't go that way anymore—" She advised sincerely, her gaze then falling on Zhao Fusheng's ill-fitting clothes. The expression in her eyes gradually changed.
From an initial wariness and suspicion, it softened. Zhao Fusheng didn't know her background, and likewise, she didn't know who Zhao Fusheng was. But from Zhao Fusheng's attire and thin figure, she could guess that Zhao Fusheng was probably not financially well-off. Seeing her descend from the carriage just now, seeming to head towards Beggar's Alley, and even mentioning 'if I'm lucky enough to survive,' the old woman's heart filled with pity. She quickly turned to grab a bowl: "Don't go any further. Are you out of money? I'll treat you to a bowl of soup. Warm yourself up and find somewhere to hide."
Perhaps it was because Zhao Fusheng hadn't encountered a truly good person since her rebirth into this world. Now, on the verge of venturing alone into a dangerous place, meeting such a stranger who wholeheartedly wanted to offer her a hot bowl of soup immediately swept away the loneliness in her heart.
"Alright."
Zhao Fusheng smiled and nodded, but extended her right hand downwards, stopping the old woman from ladling soup: "Just not now. I'll have this bowl of soup after I return."
With that, she turned around: "I'm off."
"Hey—"
The old woman tried to speak again, but saw her walk forward without looking back, seemingly heading directly for Beggar's Alley.
"Oh! Such a good child, this world oh—I wonder if my—" The old woman couldn't stop Zhao Fusheng, a look of regret on her face. She mumbled to herself, and then, as if thinking of something, her eyes reddened, and she lowered her head.
Zhao Fusheng paid no mind to this small interlude. Following Liu Wu's directions, she quickly turned into another street. If earlier, further from Beggar's Alley, one could still see small stalls, now the closer she got, the fewer people she saw.
Rows of low, dilapidated houses stretched before her eyes. The street was about a zhang wide, its surface uneven. The shops lining both sides were abandoned, many of their doors collapsed, covered in patches of mold. The interiors of the shops appeared messy, evidently deserted in a panic by their owners. The street was devoid of animal droppings, human voices, or even the sound of wind, quiet to the point of being eerie and oppressive.
But Zhao Fusheng's attention wasn't on these details. Her gaze was fixed on the center of the street in the distance. A faint, almost imperceptible grey mist enveloped the middle of the street, making one half of the street brightly lit, while the other seemed to be submerged in the gloomy clouds preceding a storm, effectively dividing the street in two.
This was what Fan Bisi had described as the Ghost Realm. She sensed the thick aura of death within the Ghost Realm, and a feeling of dread surged in her heart. The shadow of death enveloped her from several zhang away. This sense of danger was far more intense than when she faced Paper Man Zhang.
Zhao Fusheng's fingers tingled, trembling slightly. Her feet, yielding to her inner fear, instinctively took two steps back. But after two steps, her reason overcame her timidity, making her stand firmly in place.
She immersed her mind into her Sea of Consciousness. Within it, the unsealed God Investiture List appeared, blood flowing across it, ghostly winds swirling, an indescribably eerie and terrifying sight. Zhao Fusheng tried to touch the list with her divine sense. The list prompted: "Do you wish to consume 100 merit points to activate a divine position?"
Then, the God Investiture List's feedback quickly arrived: "Insufficient merit points (less than 100). Divine position activation failed."
"Prompt: Complete the first commission from the Demon Suppression Division to obtain merit."
...
Upholding justice, rebuilding Hell.
Zhao Fusheng exhaled a long breath, her face expressionless. The God Investiture List's prompt solidified her will, allowing her to control her fear.
"Alright, I have no way back."
She murmured softly. But the silence here was so profound that one could hear a pin drop, and her voice seemed magnified several times, echoing in her ears.
She composed herself, then, with determination, walked briskly towards the Ghost Realm.
With quiet, rhythmic footsteps, Zhao Fusheng drew closer and closer to the Ghost Realm. The grey mist of the Ghost Realm seemed to sense the arrival of a living person. The moment she approached, it eagerly unfurled, enveloping her completely.
As the mist surged, Zhao Fusheng's vision gradually became obscured by the thick fog. Before entering Beggar's Alley, she had already prepared herself mentally to encounter ghosts immediately. But the moment she stepped into the Ghost Realm, there was a moment of apparent deafness. Everything around her fell into extreme silence. The circulation of air, light, and the lingering vitality of plants and humans were completely erased here.
Zhao Fusheng seemed to realize something and abruptly turned her head. But the path behind her was not what she had seen when she arrived; instead, it was a world entirely shrouded by the Ghost Realm!
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