Midnight. The Potter's Field.Before the seventh grave—no stele, no name—only a tattered paper lantern swayed gently in the wind.Xie Wuchen arrived as promised.For three days, the gray thread had crept up to his elbow.
Each night, his memories leaked like sand through an hourglass:
Yesterday's memorization of the Qingming Sword Scripture was today reduced to fragments;
His mother's face grew ever fainter in dreams."You're half a breath late."Bai Ying emerged from behind the grave, her black robes ink-dark, seven ghostly lanterns orbiting her like silent stars.
In her hand now lay a scroll of bone tablets."The Yin Market opens tonight. If you wish to enter the Rebirth Well, you'll need a Passage Token—and those only circulate in the Yin Market.""Where is this market?""The living cannot see it." She pressed a finger to his brow. "But with the Cauldron-Brand upon you, the veil between yin and yang has thinned to a cicada's wing."As she spoke, she tore a talisman from the lantern and pressed it to his chest.Instantly, heaven and earth inverted.The burial ground vanished. In its place stretched a stone street suspended in void.
Stalls lined both sides, their vendors unmistakably not of the living world:
A skeleton brewed tea over blue flame; ghost-infants cried wares; a headless corpse in official robes hawked "Contracts of Mortal Lifespan";
Caged souls of cultivators were priced: "One hundred years of cultivation—for one day among the living."—This was the Yin Market: the underworld's tolerated gray bazaar."Remember," Bai Ying whispered, "the Yin Market has no lanterns—they do not shine for the living. If your nature is revealed, ten thousand ghosts will devour your soul."Xie Wuchen nodded and followed her into the throng.But after only ten steps, searing pain erupted in his right arm!
Reality warped—He saw himself standing before Qingming Sect's mountain gate. Sect Master Xuanwei smiled, offering a jade sword:"Wuchen, today I bestow upon you the Disciple-Master Seal."Then—the jade sword twisted into a bronze cauldron. Hands burst from its mouth, dragging him into an abyss…"Xie Wuchen!" Bai Ying caught him before he collapsed. "Don't sink in! The gray thread is consuming your anchor points of identity!"Gasping, he steadied his mind, cold sweat soaking his white robes.
—At this rate, within seven days, he would forget entirely who "Xie Wuchen" was.They reached a stall in a shadowed corner.
Its vendor was a hunched crone, before whom lay three items:
a rusted iron key, a bowl of clear water, and a blank human-skin mask."Choose one Passage Token," the crone rasped. "The key opens the side entrance to the Rebirth Well. The water cleanses the Cauldron-Brand. The mask… lets you live as another for one day."Xie Wuchen's eyes fixed on the bowl of water.
If he could wash away the gray thread, he might save his memories—and his mission."How much in spirit coins?""No coins needed." The crone grinned, revealing blackened gums. "Only your promise:
Go to the mortal realm and look upon my grandson.
He's seven, lives in Willow Creek Village in Nanhuan. A red birthmark behind his left ear…
When I died, he was burning with fever."Xie Wuchen fell silent.Bai Ying leaned close, voice urgent:"Don't agree. Oaths in the Yin Market are sealed with soul-binding contracts. Break it, and your spirit shatters."Yet Xie Wuchen asked softly, "Why not send him a dream?""Heaven's Dao forbids it," the crone's eyes shimmered with tears. "Any dream rooted in familial longing is severed at source. For us ghosts… even missing someone is a crime."Xie Wuchen's heart clenched.
So it wasn't just the living who were harvested—ghosts' very love was deemed "excess karma" and purged.He placed his only possession on the stall—his mother's jade pendant."I'll take the water."The crone shook her head. "Jade means nothing here. I want only your word."Xie Wuchen met her clouded eyes—and slowly nodded."I promise."Delighted, the crone lifted the bowl with trembling hands.But the moment he took it—The entire Yin Market fell dead silent.Every ghost turned as one toward the entrance.A golden rift tore open in the void. Three golden-armored divine generals descended on clouds, holding Demon-Slaying Edicts, their voices shaking the netherworld:"Xie Wuchen, rebel against the Dao! You stole heavenly secrets and shattered the sacred cauldron—your crimes are unforgivable!
By order of the Shepherds of Heaven's Dao—execute on sight!"Chaos erupted!
Ghosts scattered; stalls collapsed."Run!" Bai Ying shouted. "They can track the Cauldron-Brand!"Xie Wuchen turned to flee—but saw the crone still frozen in place, eyes hollow with despair.
She'd waited a century… for one chance to see her grandson through another's eyes.Gritting his teeth, he whirled and flung the bowl of water onto his branded arm!Hssss—!The gray thread writhed like a serpent, shrieking—but did not fade. Instead, it burrowed deeper!"Foolish child!" the crone cried. "That water doesn't cleanse—it awakens! The more you remember, the harder the thread devours you!"Indeed, Xie Wuchen's mind exploded—
His mother's deathbed, the sword-bestowal ceremony, the weeping townsfolk of Linhé…
Memories surged like a flood, each one a blade carving his soul!The golden generals loomed overhead, halberds descending!In that sliver of time, Xie Wuchen snatched the blank mask and slammed it onto his face.It melted, reshaping him—ordinary, weathered, radiating no spiritual aura.He turned and vanished into the fleeing crowd. The hunters passed him by.Bai Ying ignited her ghost-lanterns, tearing a rift in space, and yanked him through.They crashed into a desolate wasteland.
Dawn was breaking.Xie Wuchen peeled off the mask. The gray thread now coiled past his shoulder, faint runes crawling beneath his skin."You're mad!" Bai Ying snapped. "The thread is fused with your soul now—impossible to remove!"Leaning against a dead tree, Xie Wuchen closed his eyes, breathing hard.
After a long pause, he asked quietly:"How do I get to Willow Creek Village?"Bai Ying froze."I gave my word," he said, opening his eyes—exhausted, yet unshaken.
"Even if I forget who I am… I won't break a promise to a ghost who just wanted to see her grandson."In the distance, the sun rose.
A single ray touched his dust-streaked white robe, gilding it like sacred flame.And deep within his sleeve, unseen, the rusted iron key began to warm—
as if answering a call from some faraway place.(End of Chapter Four)