AGJN 065: Seeing My Brother, I Haven’t Even Tidied the Remains Yet

Hu 79’s thinking was simple: who cares about the rankings, as long as Master is first, that’s all that matters. Even if it’s some underworld criminal syndicate ranking, being number one wouldn’t be a bad thing either.

She even encouraged Lan He to defend the title, “Master, aim for the annual crown!”

Song Futan: “This is illegal behavior and shouldn’t be encouraged.”

Hu 79: “I’ve never obeyed the law anyway…”

Song Futan: “…”

Hu 79 suddenly felt a murderous intent, and Song Futan’s sword was barely restrained. She quickly added, “But, when in someone else’s home, you follow their rules. How can these humans break the law?”

On the other side, Bai Wu entered the coffin, only to see that it was filled with grains and paper money. Since this was a coffin, it naturally couldn’t be empty, or it would be considered “empty wealth.” There was also a painting of the Five Blessings Granting Longevity, and the wood was sturdy. It was a rather good coffin.

The coffin was carried all the way to the cemetery. The two ghosts supported the paper figure into the coffin, and Bai Wu took the opportunity to cling to the back of the paper figure, hiding his form.

They placed the paper figure in front of the offering table. Since this was an underworld wedding, each time the theme was different. Sometimes it was a Western-style lawn wedding, and sometimes it was traditional Chinese. Chinese weddings had various regional customs, so this time, there was no bridge, only a wedding hall.

All the utensils were made of paper: paper vases, paper tables, paper mountains of gold and silver… However, they didn’t know that even the groom this time was made of paper.

“The auspicious time has arrived, why hasn’t the bride come yet?”

The two ghosts acting as masters of ceremonies were a bit puzzled and inquired inside the paper mansion.

The window opened, and a little ghost poked its head out: “They’re persuading the bride.”

—Since it was the family arranging everything, not all the spirits were entirely pleased. But one resisting like this was a first.

All they heard was the bride screaming, “Who wants to marry Chen Xingyang! I don’t like Chen Xingyang! He even killed my brother Xunchun! Who burned this lousy marriage certificate for me? What kind of company are you?”

The little ghost tried to reason, “It was arranged by your parents. You should marry Chen Xingyang, and you can torment him all you want.”

Bride: “…”

Bride: “I believe your nonsense!”

What nonsense about parents making decisions, what era do we live in?

Unable to convince the bride, they had no choice but to report to the boss. How could they get the living family to willingly keep spending money if the bride didn’t cooperate?

At the other end of the cemetery, a man dressed in a traditional mandarin jacket was riding a donkey and slowly approached, his face ashen with a sinister aura. The bride was forcibly helped down by the little ghost, “What’s the point of forcing someone to marry?”

The man in the mandarin jacket glanced at her. The bride had only recently died and was still wearing her funeral white, and under his gaze, she fell silent.

The man in the mandarin jacket snorted, “Girl, don’t waste the money; it’s a gift from your parents. Chen Xingyang is at least a star, isn’t he better than Lan He?”

The bride, gathering her courage, responded, “I don’t like him; there’s no comparison.”

The man in the mandarin jacket clicked his tongue, “If that’s the case, we might as well postpone it. I’ll fetch Lan He and have him marry you later.” Dan Liang had been following these celebrities, and it seemed Lan He was about to start filming.

The bride, who had been a ghost for a while, had heard ghost stories from her family since childhood. Unlike her indifferent parents, she genuinely had feelings for Zhang Xunchun and looked warily at him, “How will you get my brother here? Will it affect him?”

“So what if it does?”

“If it affects him, of course, I won’t marry,” the bride said, “What do you take me for?”

The man in the mandarin jacket, impatient, said, “In that case, kindly inform your parents.”

Bride: “Tell them what? Do I have to say I won’t marry? Can we even get a refund?”

Man in the mandarin jacket: “Of course, tell them you’re not doing well down here, and they should quickly spend more money to resolve it—”

As he spoke, he leaned down from his donkey, reaching toward the bride. He wanted to be a good ghost, to kindly earn money alongside Dan Liang, but this woman wasn’t giving him a chance.

The bride’s ghostly eyes widened in fear, her face contorting. She had died in a car accident, and her death wasn’t peaceful. Though she had applied a little powder earlier, now even that couldn’t cover the bloodstains.

At this moment, the dazed “Chen Xingyang” suddenly lunged forward.

The man in the mandarin jacket instinctively waved his hand, and immediately realized something was wrong. “Chen Xingyang” was torn apart by his casual swipe, and before he could even process it, a sharp spike shot out from behind “Chen Xingyang,” piercing straight through his palm!

“Ah!!” The man in the mandarin jacket screamed in agony as he fell from his donkey. He watched as “Chen Xingyang” disintegrated into a flurry of paper scraps, revealing Bai Xian behind it, wearing glasses. The sharp spike spun twice in Bai Xian’s hand before he reversed his grip, his movements swift, positioning himself between the man and the bride.

From start to finish, Bai Xian never glanced at the man in the mandarin jacket, only coldly staring downward.

The bride’s mouth hung open. Even though she liked her brother Xunchun, she couldn’t help but think to herself, *So cold, so handsome…*

The man in the mandarin jacket clutched his hand, and although no blood flowed, there was a charred black hole in his palm. He couldn’t discern Bai Wu’s origin, but he could tell he was a creature of some kind. Furious, he shouted, “Who are you, meddling in other people’s business!”

Bai Wu glanced around. *Sigh, why hasn’t Master shown up yet? We were supposed to be working together.*

The man in the mandarin jacket grew even angrier. “How dare you ignore me!”

Bai Wu: “…”

*Sigh, can we not do this?*

The man in the mandarin jacket felt utterly disrespected, as if Bai Wu regarded him as inferior. He immediately raised his hand and shouted, “Come on!”

He had gathered a small gang of underlings in the cemetery. At his command, more than twenty ghostly figures emerged from the graves to support him. One of the small ghosts who had acted as a matchmaker spoke up for him, “Boss asked you a question, where are you from?”

Bai Wu uneasily looked back.

The bride, wide-eyed, thought to herself, *Wow, he’s really aloof, just like my brother Xunchun. He’s got that same vibe.*

The man in the mandarin jacket, enraged, was about to order an attack when a figure in a ghostly bureaucrat’s uniform, dragging chains and missing his hat, floated out from behind the bushes. Alongside him were a black-clad man holding a sword and a girl dressed in red.

Lan He smiled. He had waited to appear, first to see if this underworld wedding company had any accomplices, and second because his colleague had been delayed. There was no fun in taking down enemies without his brothers by his side.

Bai Wu exhaled in relief. *Finally, they’re here.* Under Lan He’s encouraging gaze, he announced, “We—we’re here to crack down on illegal activities.”

Bride: “??”

The tone… seemed a little soft? This wasn’t how she imagined it at all!

Hu 79 also shouted enthusiastically, “You’re surrounded!”

“You idiots, I’m the one who has you surrounded,” the man in the mandarin jacket sneered. Although he had the numbers on his side, he didn’t want to tangle with the ghostly bureaucrats for too long. He gestured for his underlings to attack while preparing to make his escape.

Lan He began chanting, “Oxen and horses journey to the underworld, farewell to the mountains and caves of the nether realm. Ink and paper cannot tell of Yama, as the sun and moon lose their light, my eyes see clearly!”

As soon as he finished, the paper oxen and horses he had secretly scattered around the area suddenly stood up and began to bellow.

The man in the mandarin jacket grabbed tightly onto his donkey, only to look back and see oxen and horses on three sides. The only side without them was next to the ghostly bureaucrats, where a small donkey stood beside the black-clad man, even smaller than his own.

The man in the mandarin jacket muttered, “Are you… really here?”

Lan He’s hat had been given to “Chen Xingyang.” If he had worn it, the man might have recognized him sooner. But now, seeing Lan He’s extravagant display, he started to suspect this wasn’t just some small-time ghostly official—this was one of the big shots.

Lan He ignored him.

But Song Futan, always eager, quickly rushed forward, sword in hand.

The man in the mandarin jacket released his donkey first.

Song Futan paid no mind. As the man tried to force his way through, Song flung a few talismans. Each one was inscribed with the words “Infinite Boundlessness,” and as they morphed into runes, the road ahead suddenly stretched out into an unreachable distance for the man in the mandarin jacket.

At the same time, his sturdy donkey had reached Song Futan.

The smaller donkey, labeled “001,” turned, raised its gleaming hind legs, and delivered a swift kick!

This was no ordinary kick. The donkey had been personally enhanced by Granny Wang San. With one powerful strike, the man’s donkey was reduced to ashes, and “001” proudly snorted through its nostrils.

“Who are you?” The man in the mandarin jacket couldn’t make sense of Song Futan’s background. His sword carried the aura of Buddhism, yet the talismans were clearly Taoist in origin. The rune-splitting technique was also a top-tier Taoist skill.

Song Futan coldly replied, “A rights defender.”

Man in the mandarin jacket: “??”

He figured that perhaps one of the celebrities he had tried to swindle had sent someone after him. After all, the “Chen Xingyang” he destroyed was just a paper substitute, but there was still a chance it was the real Chen Xingyang. Inwardly, he cursed for a while, never imagining that he had yet to even start scamming the celebrity’s family.

But the man in the mandarin jacket still had his ace up his sleeve: illusions. During his downtime, he had taught his underlings a few tricks, and his illusions had even managed to deceive Lan He temporarily. Without hesitation, he cast a blood-sea illusion.

However, the black-clad man simply ignored it and stepped right through—

Lan He, along with Hu 79, was plowing through the ghosts with ease. Bai Wu protected Master’s ghost fan while the rest of the ghosts howled in fear, quickly confessing and begging Lan He to stop.

After hearing their confessions about their criminal deeds, Lan He didn’t relent, saying, “I never said I’d agree to stop!”

Soon, a large group of underworld officers arrived, just in time to witness the aftermath, where the target had already been pierced through by a sword, rendering him incapable of fighting.

Song Futan kicked the defeated man once before handing him over to be shackled.

The officers from the City God Temple respectfully saluted Lan He, “What a coincidence, we didn’t expect to trouble you, Master Lai.”

Lan He took a closer look and realized these were underworld officers from the City God Temple. “Where’s Old Bai? Didn’t he send you all?”

Seeing the group of officers arrive, Lan He had thought Old Bai had finally called for reinforcements, albeit from the local department. But when they spoke, it was as if they had no idea about the situation.

The head officer from the City God Temple scratched his head, “No, Master Lai. This man is Cheng Wu. Recently, he teamed up with a merchant to scam the living for money, which had already caught the attention of the City God. We specifically came to arrest him.”

Lan He: “Oh… You even know his name?”

The officer looked slightly embarrassed and spoke quietly, “To be honest, this guy is an escaped convict.”

“Is that so? I recall hearing about something similar before, but later on, you said it was all handled.” Lan He remembered an incident from a while ago when a malicious ghost had escaped into a living person. Old Bai had informed him at the time, but after checking, it had been reported as resolved.

“We thought it was. Over the years, countless cases have piled up, and we’ve changed superiors multiple times. Luckily, the City God noticed and ordered us to clean up the loose ends.” That’s why there was such a large-scale operation; it wasn’t just to join Lan He for a group fight.

“Master An? If you ask me, you all really should digitize your records.” Lan He remarked.

The officer meekly replied, “Yes, but there’s just so much paperwork. Even if we wanted to input everything, it would take years. Still, we appreciate your suggestion. Our lord also said we need to set a new standard. Anyone involved in this, not just the ghost, but also those who knowingly paid for these underworld marriages, will have their sweet dreams turned into nightmares as punishment.”

“That’s great!” Lan He said. He had just heard the small ghosts confessing their criminal schemes, and it had become clear to him that while he hadn’t been directly targeted, some of the buyers from the living world—like Chen Tianji—were aware that they might be endangering the actual celebrity but didn’t care. That was also an evil act.

Since such things couldn’t be handled in the living world, if the City God Temple could impose small punishments, it would be a nice way to bring justice to victims like Chen Xingyang.

The underworld bureaucracy was vast and complex, handling the six paths of reincarnation with volumes of documents. Mistakes were inevitable, but the City God Temple had been diligent in rectifying errors after leadership changes, so Lan He didn’t press further and saw them off.

Then he turned to the “bride,” Chen Tianji’s daughter, Chen Jiao. She looked somewhat melancholic, “Thinking back, maybe I overreacted earlier. I couldn’t see my brother, but at least I got to see the actor who played the man who killed him, even if it was just a paper figure…”

Lan He: “…”

Hu 79 winked and teased, “Do you like Lan He?”

They had all heard what she said earlier.

Chen Jiao: “Yeah.”

“So, you really want to see Lan He?” Lan He suddenly asked.

Song Futan raised an eyebrow, surprised. Could it be that little Lai was about to reveal himself?

Chen Jiao asked cautiously, “Do you have a way?”

Lan He replied, “Do I look like Lan He to you?”

For the first time, Chen Jiao dared to take a good look at the underworld officer she hadn’t dared to face earlier. Whether living or dead, many avoided making direct eye contact with underworld officers. “Um, you do kind of look like him…” As she examined him more closely, his exposed features did indeed resemble Lan He.

“I’m known down here as the ‘Underworld Lan He.’ This is the Hu Sect, experts in illusion. If you give me a stack of paper money, I’ll help you fulfill your dream.” Lan He said, removing his mask.

Chen Jiao was stunned. No way—he really did look just like the real Lan He! And seeing him in person was much more impactful than seeing him on a screen.

In a daze, she handed over a stack of paper money, feeling as though she might cry, “My makeup’s all smudged.”

Her appearance… no, her remains hadn’t even been tidied up.

Lan He took the paper money and even shook her hand, “It’s fine, you look cute. Thank you for liking me.”

After saying this, Lan He put his mask back on.

Chen Jiao clutched her chest for a long moment before blurting out, “Brother… no, my lord, thank you, thank you!” She felt that the money she spent was absolutely worth it, almost as if her heart had started beating again.

“You’re welcome, you paid after all.” Lan He pocketed the money. “Alright, we’re off!”

Song Futan noticed the smile lingering in Lan He’s eyes after he turned around and couldn’t help but smile as well.

…

From his colleagues at the City God Temple, Lan He learned that the operator of this underworld wedding company in the human world was named Dan Liang. Unlike other unscrupulous merchants selling marriage certificates for fifty yuan each, Dan Liang had teamed up with Cheng Wu, selling them for over three thousand yuan apiece, while also expanding into other shady businesses. He seemed keen on becoming a “spiritual master.”

Such cases required severe punishment, so naturally, Lan He went to find his trusty partner, Wang Lili.

“Oh, oh, this guy is engaging in superstitious practices and infringing on people’s image rights. I’ll investigate him right away!” Wang Lili took note.

Lan He couldn’t help but feel a bit amused. After all, Wang Lili was preparing to educate someone about superstitious practices, and Lan He realized he might be experiencing what others felt when dealing with him.

“Oh, by the way,” Wang Lili asked, “partner, do you think dragons really exist in this world?”

This was a tricky question. Lan He thought for a moment before replying, “There probably are, but they haven’t appeared in a long, long time. At least in the capital, there hasn’t been any trace of dragons for a very long time.”

Wang Lili’s expression turned complicated. “Oh… yesterday I got a report. Someone claimed there’s a dragon in the capital and that they’ve observed it. They wanted to take us to capture it, said they’ve been watching it for years and hope the authorities will intervene.”

“Is this guy’s online alias ‘Tota Heavenly King’?” Lan He was reminded of a story he’d heard from Old Master Dou.

“Tota Heavenly King? I’m not sure, but his real name is Li Jing,” Wang Lili said. “He showed us some pictures he took of the ‘capital dragon.’ But when I looked, they either looked like clouds or were just a black blur, impossible to make out clearly. I wanted to dismiss it as nonsense, but then again, I used to not believe in ghosts either…”

Of course, the conclusion was that dragons might have existed, but they’d long since disappeared. Wang Lili figured this “Tota Heavenly King” was probably spouting nonsense.

There are all kinds of people in the world, from those who believe aliens are hidden by the government, to those who think leaders are lizard people, or even those who believe the Earth is flat… Wang Lili wasn’t easily fooled, but given his experiences, he wanted to at least entertain the possibility.

With Wang Lili handling Dan Liang’s case, Lan He felt reassured. He also heard that, because of his success in solving some bizarre cases, there were plans to promote Wang Lili to the municipal bureau.

As for Chen Xingyang, that night, he spent a terrified, sleepless night with his eyes closed until dawn. Nothing happened, and in the days that followed, not only was the mastermind behind the infringement caught—despite the fact that Chen Xingyang still thought the fine was too low at three thousand per certificate compared to fifty—but he also heard strange urban legends about citizens being dragged into the City God Temple in their dreams to be punished, only to wake up with red marks on their hands. This led Chen Xingyang to feel a newfound respect for the corresponding deities.

.

On Lan He and Song Futan’s side, they both joined the film crew.

It had been mentioned earlier that film sets, especially those dealing with supernatural themes, are often highly superstitious places. Before filming begins, rituals to appease the gods are common. Moreover, sets that deal with ghosts are extra cautious, holding rituals not just for the gods but for the spirits as well, to avoid attracting anything unclean.

The film *Ghostly Charm* used ghosts as metaphors for people, but it still teetered on the edge of danger.

Before filming began, Dou Chunting, representing the investors, sent a painting as a gift: “This Lingpan painting was specially bought to protect the set!”

He unfurled the painting, revealing a large image of Zhong Kui, with his leopard-like head, round eyes, and dressed in a red judge’s robe. Zhong Kui, the mythical demon queller, was one of the underworld judges, and hanging his image to ward off evil was a common folk practice.

The *Lingpan* paintings specifically referred to Zhong Kui paintings produced in Lingbi County, Anhui Province.

Lingbi’s Zhong Kui paintings were said to be based on the work of Wu Daozi. There was a saying, “Wu Daozi’s paintings communicate with the gods, but after years of replication, they gradually lost their original essence. Only the Lingbi paintings often retain Wu’s original style, and thus are widely admired.”

Because of their fidelity to Wu Daozi’s spirit and style, Lingbi Zhong Kui paintings became famous and highly esteemed.

“Look at that red! Lingpan paintings must be dyed with cinnabar. The flowing lines of Wu Daozi’s brushwork are absolutely in the ‘Wu family style!’” Dou Chunting boasted. “Guess how much this one cost?”

He gestured a number, and the crowd responded with gasps of amazement.

“This painting looks pretty new. It doesn’t seem to be more than a hundred years old, right? Is this artist famous?” Lan He asked, somewhat puzzled. After all, most people assumed that the older a painting, the more valuable it should be.

“You can’t measure Lingpan paintings by that standard! Let me tell you, while Lingbi produces many Zhong Kui paintings each year, only one or two might be ‘spiritually responsive’—truly blessed by Zhong Kui himself. In some years, none at all are responsive, and it’s said that this is due to the restlessness of people’s hearts. As belief dwindles, so too does production.”

In fact, because fewer and fewer people believed in the paintings’ efficacy, production had become so rare that in some years, none were made at all. Of the few remaining Lingpan paintings, how many could be considered spiritually responsive?

It made sense. Everyone nodded thoughtfully.

“So, you all shouldn’t be so shallow, only judging by age or the fame of the artist. What matters is whether the painting is spiritually responsive or not,” Dou Chunting said proudly. “This one here? It’s a top-tier Lingpan painting from 1982!”

The crowd burst into laughter, humoring Dou with enthusiastic reactions.

Dou Chunting: “…? I’m serious. It was painted in 1982 by the representative inheritor of the Lingbi Zhong Kui tradition.”

Everyone: “…………Oh.”