“Excuse me, sir, how do I get back to the human world?”
“You’re dead as dead can be. What would you go back for?”
“To take a life in revenge—oh no, of course, to visit family and friends.”
When Yi Si was spoken to, he was squatting by the roadside, drenched in sweat, fussing with a grape trellis. He hadn’t even planned to lift his head. The Underworld had no shortage of pitiful souls clinging to memories of the mortal world—Yi Si had long since grown used to it.
But unexpectedly, this one turned out to be a wronged ghost, an unavenged soul.
Yi Si straightened, pushed back the sweat-plastered hair stuck to his face, leaving himself smudged and dusty, and lifted his gaze.
The man wore a white brocade robe patterned with cloud motifs, his hair neatly coiled and fastened with an exquisitely carved jade hairpin. Clearly the product of a lavish funeral.
His figure was so thin and frail one might suspect that beneath the robe was nothing but a skeleton. But his face—ah, his face was extraordinary: features like the bright moon, eyes like the morning light, every movement radiating a beauty that could topple nations.
Well, well. A rare beauty of a ghost, Yi Si thought.
“Young master, my respects.” Seeing Yi Si look up, the beautiful ghost bowed with utmost courtesy. “My surname is Gu, given name Yunwu. Might I trouble you to show me the way?”
“If you escape from the Underworld, that is a grave crime. Do you understand this?”
“I do.”
“Then you truly mean to escape?”
“I merely wish to take a look back.”
Yi Si nodded. “Alright then. Young Master Gu, follow me.”
They wound past a long row of grape trellises and onto the Yellow Springs Road that led to the Bridge of Forgetfulness.
Gu Yunwu walked slowly, his steps so light they barely touched the ground, his whole body drifting as though a breeze could blow him straight into Yama’s hall.
Strange. Dressed in such finery, yet as weak as if he’d starved all his life. Yi Si was puzzling when Gu Yunwu suddenly stumbled, about to topple into a field of flowers.
Yi Si darted forward, grabbed his collar, and hauled him upright. Gu Yunwu fluttered into his arms like a sheet of paper, the scent of medicinal herbs wafting up instantly.
Sighing, Yi Si propped him up and supported him the rest of the way. A journey that should have taken minutes stretched to nearly half an hour before they finally reached the bridge.
“Cross the Bridge of Forgetfulness, and the human world lies ahead.” Yi Si pointed. Gu Yunwu straightened, tidied his robe, and bowed again. “Many thanks, sir, for your aid.”
Yi Si nodded, stepped back, and silently waited. The moment Gu Yunwu placed one foot on the bridge, Yi Si lunged, slamming him down—
“Trying to run? Come back to Yama’s hall with me!”
—
Yi Si was not truly a name, but a designation. He was one of the Underworld’s minor officers, working under Ox-Head and Horse-Face, tasked with capturing souls who tried to flee.
In the Underworld, such functionaries were identified by number: Jia-One, Jia-Two, Jia-Three… all the way down to Yi-Si. Yi meaning the deceased—quite fitting.
Unlike White Impermanence (Xie Bi’an) and Black Impermanence (Fan Wujiao), who had their human names, Yi Si had none.
He had been born at the border between the Underworld and the human realm—beside the Bridge of Forgetfulness itself.
Some unknown female ghost birthed him there, then hurriedly reincarnated, leaving him behind. Yama searched for three days, beard nearly torn bald with frustration, before finally giving up and raising him in the Underworld. Thus, he was branded with a ghost-official’s number as an infant.
Though he joined the ranks early, he saw little of the world.
Yi Si had never been to the human realm, and so grew up obsessed with it. A ghost-official who performed well could earn merit, and with enough merit, reincarnate into a good family and live a long life.
But fate was cruel—after two hundred years, he hadn’t managed to catch even a single fugitive ghost.
Failing that, he became the Underworld’s errand boy: repairing sheds, planting vegetables, helping Granny Meng brew her soup. However small the merits, they added up.
And in his idle moments, he daydreamed—if only he could capture a vicious ghost or two, the merit would pile up enough to reincarnate as nobility.
Finally, after two hundred years of itching for action, a fool named Gu Yunwu came asking for directions.
—
Yi Si dragged Gu Yunwu before Yama’s hall, flung him onto the floor, and declared loudly:
“Lord Yama, I caught one trying to escape.”
To his surprise, Gu Yunwu immediately knelt smoothly, raising his voice in protest.
“Your Majesty, I have been wronged! I never once intended escape. I know not why this officer has misunderstood me—please, investigate clearly.”
Contrary to human rumor, Yama was not stern and terrifying. Though towering in stature, he looked nothing like a figure of cruelty. His face was round, his brows kind, his whole figure soft-edged—a jolly, plump old man at first glance.
At the moment, however, he looked exhausted, lifting his head from mountains of case files piled like hills around him. His chief clerk, Lord Cui, was away on business, leaving Yama to check the ledgers himself until his old eyes blurred and his back ached.
“Nonsense! You sought vengeance, plotting to kill among the living, and asked me to show you the way. You knew it was a crime, yet dared break the law—your guilt is doubled!” Yi Si’s voice rang out loud and firm.
“Officer, think carefully. I did indeed say I knew fleeing was a crime, but I never said I would escape. I only said I wished to visit home.” Gu Yunwu’s voice was calm, steady, even reasonable.
Yi Si froze—come to think of it, he really hadn’t said he was escaping.
“Rubbish! Since when do dead souls go home for a visit?” Yi Si’s voice faltered.
“Today is my seventh-day memorial.” Gu Yunwu said it lightly, unhurriedly.
Yi Si suddenly fell silent.
By the laws of the Underworld, on the seventh day after death, the deceased were indeed permitted to cross the bridge to see their families one last time.
Yama sighed and glanced helplessly at Yi Si before turning to Gu Yunwu. “State your name.”
“I am Gu Yunwu, son of Gu Changwei, master of the Gu family moneyhouse in An’nan Town.”
Yama nodded, flipping through the ledgers quickly.
Yi Si’s stomach sank. This man had planned it all—deliberately vague words, deliberately luring him into dragging him here.
But why? Out of boredom? For the thrill?
“Master, don’t believe him! He’s plotting something!” Yi Si cried.
Gu Yunwu bowed his head, his voice gentle, weak. “I have been sickly since birth, bedridden all my life. I have neither the strength nor courage to deceive Your Majesty, let alone attempt escape.” His shoulders hunched, his lashes lowered, and his eyes shimmered faintly, as though tears would fall any second.
Yi Si ground his teeth, staring daggers. If not for the setting, he’d have leapt forward and beaten him senseless.
“Yi Si, calm yourself.” Yama’s round face wrinkled into several deep lines, making him look even kinder. “Today is indeed his seventh-day memorial. As a soul under my rule, he is now a citizen of my realm. As an officer, how can you bully him without cause? Look at him—without your help, he might not even make it across the bridge.”
“Your Majesty is most discerning,” Gu Yunwu said softly.
Yi Si was dumbstruck.
“But your record is strange,” Yama continued, stroking his beard. “The ledger clearly says you had thirty years of life left. Why then did you die now?”
“I do not know,” Gu Yunwu murmured, bowing his head lower still.
“Investigate it.” Yama waved, pointing at Yi Si. “You have forty-nine days until his reincarnation. Find the truth, write a report. This is your chance to atone.”
—
The two left the hall. Somehow, Gu Yunwu’s body straightened, his steps steadied. No more drifting, no more frailty.
“You died of illness. How do you know your life span wasn’t up?” Yi Si demanded.
“The fortune-teller outside told me.”
“You cunning snake.” Yi Si seethed. “You used me to bring you before Yama. Without me, your case file would have stayed buried in that mountain of scrolls!”
“You wrong me, sir. If you hadn’t tried to catch me, I’d already be home visiting my kin. It was you who acted unjustly first—how can you blame me?”
“You—!” Yi Si nearly burst.
“Brother Si, don’t be angry.” Gu Yunwu instantly changed his tone, smiling warmly. “We’re going to the human world now, aren’t we? Isn’t that your wish? There’s a teahouse by the south gate of An’nan Town with pastries to die for. Allow me to treat you.”
Not only his tone, but his form of address had changed.
Yi Si rolled his eyes and strode ahead, unwilling to dignify him with an answer. Yet after a few steps he suddenly stopped, turning sharply. “Wait. How did you know I wanted to see the human world?”
Gu Yunwu smiled, eyes narrowing like blooming peach blossoms. “Because when Yama assigned you the task, you didn’t complain. You accepted gladly. That alone said enough.”
“…Oh.” Yi Si took a few more steps, then halted again. “No. You knew from the start. Otherwise, why ask me for directions?”
Gu Yunwu did not reply. He only smiled, lips curved just right, his gaze like sunlight spilling over flowers in full bloom. Yi Si stared long enough to lose himself.
This bastard is too clever, Yi Si thought.
He wasn’t stupid. He was strong, quick, and diligent. But his thoughts were straighter than the Yellow Springs Road itself. Anyone could read him like a book. Against someone like Gu Yunwu, with his twists and turns, Yi Si might as well dig his own pit and bury himself in it.
As they approached the bridge again, they met Granny Meng. She was no old crone, but a graceful, alluring young woman. Simply standing at the bridge each day, she attracted eager crowds to drink her soup.
Gu Yunwu smiled, bowing politely. “Greetings, Miss Meng.”
Not “Granny Meng”—Miss Meng.
Clearly delighted, Meng’s gaze lingered warmly, sweeping him from head to toe.
“Going home, Young Master Gu?”
“With Brother Si’s company, I am fortunate enough to visit my kin.”
“Then I wish you a smooth journey, and success in avenging your wrongs.” Meng’s smile was radiant.
Yi Si gasped. “It was you! You told—”
But before he could finish, Meng pinched his cheeks, muffling his words.
“Yi Si, this is your first trip up there. Be careful. By the way, have you found someone to possess yet?”
Yi Si sagged instantly, face full of worry. As a lowly ghost officer, he couldn’t manifest in the mortal world. He had to seize a just-dead body at the bridge, while it was still warm, and take it over for a while.
Too long dead, and it became a corpse revival—too shocking, too disruptive, forbidden.
Now, with Yama’s order, where could he find a suitable vessel?
At that moment, Gu Yunwu tugged his sleeve lightly, smiling. “I happen to have someone in mind. Would you care to consider my suggestion, Brother Si?”
