Jiang Yan and Mu Wang walked for a long time.
As they neared home, Jiang Yan stopped at the night market to buy a serving of chilled noodles mixed with grilled potatoes.
“Twenty skewers of pork belly, two grilled sausages, and an order of cabbage in foil,” she said as she glanced around during the wait, pointing at the barbecue stall. “I can finish all that myself. Add anything else you want.”
Mu Wang pulled on a hat and adjusted his mask, obediently heading over to wait in line at the barbecue stand.
Fifteen minutes later, the two sat at a greasy little roadside table.
Mu Wang pulled out a napkin and wiped down the table in front of Jiang Yan, then, on her prompting, bought two iced colas.
It was already past ten at night. The Jiangcheng night market was filled with people who’d worked hard all day—bricklayers in sweat-soaked clothes, cleaners still in their uniforms, and plenty of high schoolers just out of evening study, now gathered at food stalls for late-night snacks.
After the trouble in the outskirts of Jiangcheng, many had been afraid to go out, but now it had been over a month, and life had clearly returned to normal.
People’s faces were lively with the energy of everyday life.
Jiang Yan recalled the conversation she’d overheard earlier in the Supernatural Administration Bureau’s lobby. While she was waiting with Mu Wang on those lobby chairs, a team nearby was discussing the state of Huaguo. Their voices were loud enough for Jiang Yan to catch every word.
The internal situation in Huaguo was now much better than when the energy fields had first started appearing.
Thanks to the influx of ordinary people from all walks of life, the logical difficulty of the energy fields had dropped dramatically. Under the careful selection of the Supernatural Administration Bureau, these recruits included young professors from research institutes, doctors of logic, scholars of the I Ching, teachers, doctors, nurses, firefighters, lawyers, police officers, salespeople, and many others.
Once the location of an energy field was determined, the Bureau would contact top performers in relevant fields, have them sign confidentiality agreements, and put them through physical exams, stress training, and a variety of simulated horror scenarios.
What’s more, Huaguo had seen the first energy field resolved entirely by ordinary people.
—The Yanshan Energy Field.
It was said that five high school seniors solved it. They were a study group: two routinely ranked in the top ten of their school, two were average students, and one was always at the bottom. One night after a study session, they decided to take a shortcut home since it was late, and inadvertently stumbled into a newly formed energy field less than half an hour old.
While the Bureau team waited anxiously outside, expecting to be pulled in at the appointed time the next morning, the field vanished on its own and the five students walked out safe and sound.
The five emerged still in shock, their uniforms wrinkled, and one with blood streaming down his calf. But as soon as they came to their senses, they didn’t break down or go into trauma—they just worried about getting their injured friend to a hospital.
A psychic skilled at healing treated him on the spot; the bleeding stopped and the scar vanished, leaving the students dumbfounded.
After the Bureau staff explained the situation, the students not only promised to keep it secret, they also expressed their desire to join the Bureau after their college entrance exams, saying they wanted to do what they could—even in a temporary capacity.
So far, the Bureau had not accepted.
The case caused a sensation within the Bureau—not only because none of the kids were psychics, but because none of them were experts in any field. They were just ordinary people.
Some were good students, and some weren’t.
From them, the Bureau saw the future of the ordinary person: as long as there was trust and cooperation, survival was possible.
Ever since, the atmosphere inside the Bureau grew much lighter. The number of people fixated on doom and gloom sharply declined. Sometimes, all it takes is one small spark to reignite the will to survive—and at that point, the psychics’ morale was at rock bottom. All they needed was an opportunity for a comeback.
Thinking of all this, Jiang Yan stabbed a potato chunk and lifted it to her mouth.
Undeniably, she thought,
Humans could be greedy and selfish—like Jiang He, Zhang Chenxi, Meng Zhaolin.
But also so full of life.
Like so many people.
From ancient times to now, the collective will of humankind always strives forward.
Jiang Yan finished her potatoes and slowly picked at another.
“The rate at which energy fields form should double or triple next month.”
“If He Qingyuan does restrain himself, and the others stop targeting me,” Jiang Yan said offhandedly, “I could help mankind resolve a few tricky energy fields. If we can’t break through from inside, we’ll break in from outside.”
“As long as the money’s good.”
Mu Wang, picking at the cabbage in foil, looked up. “How much does Sister want to save?”
“I don’t know,” Jiang Yan replied. “The more the better, I suppose.”
Mu Wang nodded solemnly.
He understood why Jiang Yan liked to save money.
Jiang country’s land was unfit for farming. The Red Creek Empress had loved hoarding wealth in life, always afraid there’d be famine or war and the people would go without. As a child, Jiang Yan followed her example and was quite the hoarder herself.
Jiang Yan quickly changed the subject.
“By the way, see if there’s a 24-hour photo studio nearby—a print shop is fine, too.”
Mu Wang immediately nodded. He sent a little flower floating around to scout and located a still-open photo studio about 300 meters away.
After dinner, they went and had their instant camera photos scanned and enlarged.
The staff sent a high-resolution version to Jiang Yan’s phone, and she promptly shared it in the group chat.
Shen Xiaoxiao was the first to reply, sending a bowing otter emoji.
[Hehe, I thought you’d forgotten, Sister Jiang Yan!]
[A photo with my younger self—I want to frame it and hang it right in the middle of my bedroom!]
Jiang Yan smiled. After printing the photo, she stopped to buy a minimalist wooden frame and put the picture in it.
Once home, Jiang Yan placed the framed photo next to the TV.
After nearly two days without rest, she was exhausted. She washed up and went straight to bed, but before she could sleep, Mu Wang’s voice came from outside the door—her phone had just vibrated, he said, and he didn’t know who it was.
Jiang Yan came out of the bedroom and picked up her phone from the coffee table.
It was a text from Pingping.
The message said that He Qingyuan had just woken up, but quickly lost consciousness again. For a few minutes, though, he’d managed to give her some instructions.
[His voice was so low. I had to put my ear to his lips to make it out.]
Pingping wrote: [It was about Cangnan Funeral Home.]
[He said we’re all wrong. All our previous assumptions were wrong. The funeral home itself isn’t the energy field—the funeral home contains a separate space inside, and that’s where the true energy field is.]
[Before, everyone investigated the cremated bodies in the funeral home, the deceased members of staff, even relatives of former employees who had died, but none of this information is any use.]
[Cangnan Funeral Home’s energy field is an extremely unusual case.]
Pingping explained: [Every year on the Ghost Festival, the Ghost Gate opens at a random location, letting ghosts still in the cycle of reincarnation return to the human world for a visit, to see their living families. Once the day is over, the ghosts are pulled back through the gate, continuing to wait for rebirth.]
[But sometimes a ghost’s obsessions intensify—maybe after seeing loved ones in grief, or enemies still at ease, for whatever reason. Their attachment ties them to the living world. The tug-of-war between obsession and the closing Ghost Gate sometimes leaves entities on this side, stranded when the gate closes.]
[Cangnan Funeral Home was the Ghost Gate last year on Ghost Festival.]
[So, after the gate closed, one such ghost chose a space in the funeral home as its energy field.]
[The most difficult part—]
Pingping recited He Qingyuan’s words: [Because ghosts queue in the cycle for sixty or seventy years, this one likely died decades ago.]
[It could have died in any of those years. Its life and death may have had nothing to do with Cangnan, perhaps it never even set foot there. The energy field it created could take any form at all, far beyond our assumption that it must relate to the funeral home alone.]
[The Bureau can’t offer any information.]
[Because the funeral home is just a shell concealing the true, unknown energy field.]
Jiang Yan pondered for a moment, then replied, “Understood.”
Pingping continued: [As for how to clear the Cangnan Funeral Home, He Qingyuan glimpsed only one phrase.]
[‘The starting point is the only way out.’]
Pingping speculated in the chat: [Feels like one of those death games—the visible exit is a decoy, and the real exit is back at the start.]
Jiang Yan lowered her gaze. “That’s too simple.”
[I checked the forum over dinner: the last team led by the Abbot of Penglai had the perfect lineup. They had strong reasoning, healers, diviners, offense, defense—they were all veterans. There’s no way such a little trick would stump them.]
[There must be another meaning to those words.]
Pingping agreed.
He Qingyuan’s premonitions weren’t omnipotent; he could only glimpse a corner of the future and receive one line of guidance from the Heavenly Dao. The special nature and difficulty of Cangnan Funeral Home was already clear. There was no way to discuss and plan the solution in advance.
No more needed to be said.
After saying goodnight, Jiang Yan set down her phone and let herself sink into the soft bed.
She slowly drifted into a deep sleep.
*
Three days later, the Supernatural Administration Bureau published a notice on the Red Pillow official site.
In short, there were just two sentences:
[Red Pillow’s] next episode would enter Cangnan Funeral Home; the new member would be Pingping.
The official statement read: “Due to site restrictions, this mission cannot be livestreamed. [Red Pillow] has accompanied everyone from spring’s start to the end of summer, and now the journey nears its close.”
“For this mission, there is an unconditional right to withdraw, but as of this announcement, no member has chosen to leave after learning the destination.”
“Though the mountains are high and rivers long, we will meet again someday.”
After reading the notice, Jiang Yan stood up.
The Supernatural Administration Bureau had asked everyone to come to the Bureau to collect prizes—not only were there awards for team ranking, but also for clearing two energy fields. With rewards stacking together, the group was granted special access to the Yao Management Department.
Jiang Yan arrived at the little red building of the Yao Management Department, where the others were already waiting.
She glanced at her phone—she hadn’t arrived late—then followed Jiang Yuqing into the main hall.
Once on the second floor, Jiang Yuqing opened the storage warehouse for them.
Except for Jiang Yan and Jiang Yuqing, none of the others had visited this vault before, and as the doors swung open, every one of them wore a look of sheer astonishment.
Hundreds of rare beasts and supernatural creatures swirled in twenty-centimeter-high glass jars, sending dazzling streaks of light spinning through the air.
Even seeing it a second time, it was still hauntingly beautiful.
Jiang Yan marveled for a moment, then looked around.
Compared to her last visit, dozens of runes were missing from the shelves—since there were only a few hundred in total, the emptiness was striking.
Jiang Yuqing carefully explained the origin of these runes.
Yu Renwan instinctively glanced at Jiang Yan, who gave her a little nod, letting her know the source of her rune.
After finishing her explanation, Jiang Yuqing continued:
“All the Top 30 psychics on the site have already come in to claim their prizes, and several outstanding psychics came after the recent energy field outbreak to pick as well. There are five hundred and seventy-two runes left.”
“There’s plenty of time. Choose carefully.”
Runes were categorically graded by power, and the more energy fields solved, the more runes a person could choose. With two fields cleared as a team, plus the team ranking, each person could select runes equivalent to clearing three fields.
Everyone immediately went over to the relevant cabinet.
Inside were more than eighty runes. Shen Xiaoxiao gasped nonstop as she browsed, finally choosing a defensive rune.
[Can ignore any spiritual entity attack three times.]
[If used by a Yao of the same type, can greatly upgrade its ability.]
Jiang Yan made a circuit and found exactly what she needed: a rune formed from a lizard Yao.
[Can fill a Yao up to three thousand years old with full power in thirty seconds.]
[If used by a Yao of the same type, can greatly upgrade its ability.]
Jiang Yan herself was close to three thousand years, but with the power of the dragon vein, her body had reached six thousand.
Six thousand wasn’t simply double three thousand; this rune could restore about a quarter of her Yao power.
Jiang Yan’s purpose for picking it was clear—
She wanted an insurance policy.
If it ever came to breaking through an energy field by force, her power would be instantly depleted. She had to be able to recover quickly to deal with emergencies or defend if attacked.
Yu Renwan picked a rune for her mother—a soul-nourishing one—instead of for herself.
Shen Huanhuan picked a precognition-type rune.
This was the best one in the cabinet—a three-thousand-eight-hundred-year-old black turtle had formed it.
[Can see three minutes into the future, usable three times.]
[If Yao energy is provided, the rune can be reused.]
[Note: The rune must be kept in clear water; out of water, it loses effect.]
Shen Huanhuan hugged the round-mouthed rune bottle and explained, “My right eye’s already hollow. I’ll have my master fill it with water and put this rune inside. That way I just have to speak the incantation to use it without finding the rune again.”
Shen Xiaoxiao: “…”
“Sister, must you sound so calm talking about such disturbing stuff…”
She looked at Jiang Yan, hoping she’d talk her sister out of it, but Jiang Yan fully supported Huanhuan.
“That’s fine,” she said.
“There won’t be any living people in Cangnan Funeral Home. No need to worry who’s human and who’s ghost. Your right eye’s ability needs an upgrade—precognition is perfect.”
Shen Xiaoxiao quickly said, “But you can only use it three times! After that you’ll have to take it out—it’ll hurt all over again!”
Jiang Yan: “Maybe it’ll grant permanent precognition. You never know.”
“If a Yao is willing to help, all the better.”
Shen Xiaoxiao recalled the sweet, kind little swallow Yao and the smug little black pigeon, and accepted the idea.
“I hope that pigeon likes money… I wonder if ten million per use is enough? Well, price is negotiable. How will I find it anyway, should I stake out the Bureau lobby?”
Jiang Yan: “.”
“Ten million per use?”
Shen Xiaoxiao nodded emphatically. “Do you know where the pigeon is, Sister Jiang Yan?”
Jiang Yan: “No, but don’t pay so freely. I know some more reliable Yao.”
Shen Xiaoxiao: “Roger that!”
Pingping didn’t need any runes, so she didn’t come. Once everyone had chosen, Jiang Yuqing got straight to business:
“The Sea of Seeking Blessings behind Cangnan—that’s where the funeral home ghosts habitually dump bodies. Three more ordinary corpses were found there this morning, all killed differently.”
“Senior leadership want you to enter as soon as possible. I want to know—are you ready? Can we go in soon?”
The previously light mood paused for a moment.
But soon everyone exchanged looks and nodded.
Shen Huanhuan: “Everything at home is settled.”
Shen Xiaoxiao: “I helped my sister get ready!”
Yu Renwan raised her rune. “I’ll give this to my mom, then I’m good any time.”
Jiang Yan muttered, “I never had much to arrange.”
Jiang Yuqing sighed. “Then two o’clock tomorrow afternoon. I’ll collect you all and we’ll go to Cangnan.”
No one objected.
…
Time passed quickly.
As another sunset and sunrise came and went, Jiang Yan packed her luggage, left her recently purchased apartment, and set out.
Mu Wang wanted Jiang Yan to take some freshly baked cookies, but after nibbling a few by the door, Jiang Yan didn’t bring them.
“They’ll probably turn into old-fashioned cakes once we go in. I’ll eat them when I’m back.”
Jiang Yan picked up her bag to leave, but Mu Wang’s expression was downright pitiful, tears hanging from his lashes and nose, about to fall at any second. Jiang Yan crossed her arms and waited for him to finish wiping his face before heading out.
Once everyone had arrived, Jiang Yuqing closed the van door.
She opened her enormous 32-inch suitcase and handed out stacks of local specialties from various provinces.
“These are gifts from other psychics.”
“A snack if you get hungry on the road.”
“And these—” Jiang Yuqing produced a thick sheaf of runes from a separate compartment, distributing them—“they asked me to pass these along too. I checked, there’s all kinds. Take them.”
Shen Huanhuan accepted them for the group, then sorted out more than a dozen each for everyone.
Jiang Yan couldn’t make sense of their use, but Yu Renwan could.
She whispered, “These are all really good runes—one is even lost to history. I wonder who gave it… So generous.”
Jiang Yuqing heard, and volunteered, “That one’s from Lan Lin.”
“Her master gave it to her as a reward. When she heard you were going in, she asked me to give it to you.”
Shen Xiaoxiao couldn’t help sighing. “What a wonderful person.”
“No wonder she has a guardian cat spirit.”
The others chuckled, remembering how Shen Xiaoxiao had tried to manipulate the little cat Yao.
At the airport, they boarded a plane and flew more than five hours to Cangnan.
The journey passed in silence.
Stepping off the plane, they were greeted by thick, humid air.
It was raining lightly. The damp night seemed close to dissolving, the sky shrouded in cloud and mist—yet a few stars still peeked through.
Beautiful.
They followed Jiang Yuqing with their luggage to the designated vehicle, then after half an hour’s drive, got off again.
Cangnan Funeral Home appeared before them.
Its creaky, wind-battered iron gate swung back and forth. Through its rusty bars, the main hall looked like a black hole—nothing hung in the center, its shrine table strewn with skinny white candles, wax pools long since dried and blackened.
White curtains billowed high in the wind, ballooning as if something was wrapped up inside. The wind was so strong that the white funerary banner trailed along the floor, with faint block letters reading, “Mr. So-and-so.”
Jiang Yuqing said, “It’s been abandoned for two years. People used to come every month to clean, but now no one dares.”
“The local authorities don’t want to tamper with these places, so the funeral home’s just been standing alone all this time.”
She checked her phone.
“Seven minutes left.”
“I don’t think we’ve ever had a group photo together… Shall we snap one?”
Jiang Yan couldn’t help but laugh. “Let’s save that for later.”
Jiang Yuqing pressed her lips together, and laughed too. “Right… Later, then. Another time.”
As the hour approached, they all waved and pushed open the iron gate, stepping into the main hall.
Perhaps it was only their imagination, but while the time wasn’t quite up, as soon as they entered, an icy chill seeped in. The wind outside seemed to strengthen suddenly, the white curtains clawing at the air. They brushed over each person’s face in turn, blocking their vision.
Seconds later, bone-deep cold invaded their skulls. They each heard, vaguely, a “clang.”
It started soft, but swelled over thirty seconds until it was louder and louder—
“Clang——”
“Clang——”
Two minutes later, the sound had stunned everyone unconscious. When they woke, they were standing in an endless, blank expanse.
A world stretched as far as the eye could see.
A boundless whiteness—
As if the world had been painted over in white.
The only color was a golden Buddha, towering as high as the sky itself. The Buddha’s face was compassionate; a thousand hands fanned out behind it, each in a different mudra. One hand extended low toward them, palm up, as if showing them something.
They’d never seen anything like it. After a moment’s shock, they began walking toward the giant figure.
Though it looked distant, it took only a few minutes to reach.
The statue was so tall, the hand so high, that none of them could reach. In the end it was Pingping who scrambled up and perched on the Buddha’s outstretched palm.
“Anything up there?” Jiang Yan called up.
Pingping hollered, “No.”
The Buddha’s palm was huge—she could easily stretch out and there’d still be room. Crawling around for a while, she finally pinched a grain of sand.
“It’s spotless up here, except for this—”
Before Pingping finished, two lines of black text slowly floated into everyone’s view.
[In a single grain of sand, a world;]
[In an instant, a hundred years.]
The lines hovered in the air. Shen Xiaoxiao stared, double-checking for several seconds, then dazedly reached out—her hand swept through the text, finding nothing there.
Shen Xiaoxiao: ?
“What is this?”
She turned to the others. “You guys see this?”
“We see it.”
Shen Huanhuan considered for a moment, hesitantly: “This feels a bit like one of those virtual games—like, when you walk around and trigger an info point, a box pops up on screen with a clue…”
Right on cue, as if Shen Huanhuan’s words had triggered the information point, the two-line text vanished, replaced by a new message everyone could see.
[Of all the thousands of matters in the world, few are up to you. Here, life and death are uncertain; fortune is disaster.]
[Please choose carefully—]
[1. Wipe your memory and leave.]
[2. Enter Lingren Village.]