Under the guidance of Nan Shuang, Shang Can entered the residence of the Ghost King—its decor was more akin to that of the Celestial Realm.
Naturally, Shang Can thought. After all, the master of this place used to be a practitioner from the Celestial Realm.
As she contemplated, she couldn’t help but glance at Nan Shuang, who was turned away preparing tea and snacks. Shang Can then looked over at Yuange, who was sitting nearby humming a cheerful tune, only to be met with a warning glare from her that clearly communicated, “You absolutely must not say anything.”
…Yes, yes, she would definitely not mention to Nan Shuang that Yuange was secretly collecting her belongings from her past life.
No wonder Yuange had been so sure earlier that Shuang Jiang was dead; the woman had clearly become the Ghost King, so there was no denying her demise.
“Have some tea; you don’t look too well,” Nan Shuang said as she finished preparing the tea, pouring a cup for Shang Can. “This is my favorite tea lately; it’s quite nice.”
“Ah.” Suddenly remembering something, she raised her misty eyes to look at Shang Can. “Don’t worry, this isn’t the water of Forgetfulness.”
“…”
That joke was rather unfunny, yet Yuange seemed to find it quite amusing. Shang Can forced a smile, accepting her kindness as she took a small sip of the warm tea, which provided some comfort to her cold body.
“Shuang Jiang—” Shang Can had intended to ask directly about Yun Duan and the others but felt it would be too rude. The words nearly left her mouth before she circled back. “How long have you been here?”
“I don’t quite remember,” replied the carefree former Celestial Realm practitioner, tilting her head. “I suppose it’s been a few years? But I can’t recall how I died. It seems it doesn’t really make a difference whether I remember or not.”
…Though she said that, most people wouldn’t easily forget how they died, would they?
“I know! I know!” Yuange raised her hand high. “I’ve known Ah Shuang for more than seven years!”
“Is that so?” Nan Shuang nodded. “It seems your memory is better than mine.”
“Anyone’s memory is better than Ah Shuang’s!” Yuange said, munching on her snacks. “Back then, I heard the ghost realm was changing its leader, and I was so frightened! I thought, will the Nether Ghost Realm end up living by the strict rules of the Celestial Realm, unable to do anything at all? That would be terrible! So I came to see for myself.”
Nodding in agreement with the comment about the Celestial Realm’s strict regulations, Shang Can asked, “And then?”
“Then I found out Ah Shuang was nothing like those pompous Taoist priests, and we got along well.”
“…”
Worried that Shuang Jiang might be offended by such a label, Shang Can turned to look at her, but Nan Shuang’s expression was calm, even responding with a nod of agreement.
“I’m even better at teaching than they are. If someone else had become the Ghost King, Yuange definitely wouldn’t be using such a difficult term as ‘terrible’ right now.”
…The way she spoke had a hint of pride; it seemed these two had a deep bond.
Having gained a simple understanding of the predecessor she hadn’t communicated much with in life, Shang Can felt the rumors had not deceived her and finally decided to broach the main topic.
The opening conversation was a bit difficult, so after pondering for a while, Shang Can cautiously asked, “Pei Chen… does Kun Yao know that Shuang Jiang is here?”
“Ah Chen? Of course he knows.”
Nan Shuang casually sipped her tea and continued, “He comes to see me every month; he just visited a few days ago.”
Before she could react to the implication of “every month,” Shang Can suddenly stood up. “He visited a few days ago? Just by himself?”
“Now that you mention it…” Nan Shuang paused, placing her teacup down and gazing thoughtfully at Shang Can’s face. “He was with your junior sister.”
Hearing that Yun Duan had been with Pei Chen, Shang Can felt slightly relieved, thinking at least the possibility of her jumping into the River of Forgetfulness right then had been eliminated. Then she heard Nan Shuang, with great interest, say, “But they mentioned they lost a magic cultivator called Can, yet they didn’t mention you, Shang Can, at all?”
“…”
Shang Can silently sat back down, mumbling, “That’s a long story… So what happened next? Where did they go?”
“Hmm—probably left the Nether Ghost Realm by now,” Nan Shuang said nonchalantly, giving up on further inquiry. “They asked me for the ghost clan roster, looked it over, and then left. It’s clear you know they couldn’t find you.”
“After all, the entrance from the Celestial Realm can only open for twelve hours at a time; they must have left long ago.” She looked at Shang Can and added, “You’re quite unlucky, Shang Can, or would it be better to call you Can?”
“…Call me however you like.”
Her tone and expression were completely flat, showing no sign of sympathy. Shang Can looked at Nan Shuang, who seemed indifferent to everything, and sighed in resignation.
“It’s good that you two know each other.” Yuange, who had been engrossed in eating snacks, hadn’t been paying attention to their conversation. Now that it reached a pause, she brushed off the crumbs on her hands and interjected, “Could we let this, uh, Shang Can, stay here with Ah Shuang for a bit? I’d like to stay too.”
Shang Can then realized that she hadn’t exchanged names with Yuange yet and quickly nodded. Hearing Nan Shuang casually respond, “Sure,” she stood up and said to Shang Can, “It’s very safe here; other ghost clans can’t enter, so you don’t have to worry. Just stay here for now.”
“As for payment,” Nan Shuang said lazily, raising an eyebrow, “we can discuss that later.”
“Do the clothes fit?”
In the guest room, Shang Can nodded in thanks to Nan Shuang, who walked in leisurely through the door. “They fit well; thank you, Shuang Jiang.”
“Don’t mention it.” Nan Shuang waved her hand dismissively, sitting at the table in the guest room. “It’s been a while since anyone called me that.”
“How do the residents here usually address you?”
“Lord Ghost King, I suppose.” Nan Shuang stroked her chin. “Only Yuange calls me Ah Shuang; you might as well learn to call me that too.”
“…No, I think I’ll stick with Shuang Jiang; it rolls off the tongue better.”
Feeling somewhat embarrassed, Shang Can rubbed her nose, thinking that if she really did call her Ah Shuang, Yuange might get mad at her.
“About your being swept away by the River of Forgetfulness, I’ve actually been investigating it these past few days.”
Nodding in acknowledgment, Nan Shuang got straight to the point. “But I haven’t made much progress and haven’t found anyone. I honestly thought that those unfortunate souls who fell into the River of Forgetfulness would surely be dead, yet I didn’t expect you to still be alive. Congratulations.”
“…Actually, I’ve died once already.”
Shang Can pressed the jade token securely tucked at her waist, her gaze dimming slightly before she quickly rallied. “You said Pei Chen and the others came by recently and looked at the ghost clan roster—can I borrow it to have a look too?”
“Sure.”
The Ghost King readily agreed, saying, “I’ll get it for you later, but I’ll warn you in advance—there’s nothing particularly special about that thing aside from its length.”
“If you’re looking for the same things as Ah Chen,” she finally took on a more serious expression, “I can tell you directly. Last month, the ghost clan roster indeed had about three thousand seven hundred fewer clans than before.”
“Three thousand…”
Shang Can furrowed her brow at the unexpectedly high number. Then she heard Nan Shuang add, “The specific escape times of these ghost clans are no longer verifiable, but it’s certain they didn’t cross the River of Forgetfulness nor escape through the entrance from the Celestial Realm.”
“I’m still investigating more details. But to be honest,” she continued with a hint of annoyance, “the Nether Ghost Realm is vast, and I haven’t discovered any other exits over the years, so I might not have any significant findings in the short term.”
“However, if you want to find out who took the ghost clans away, I do have a suspect in mind. That person isn’t listed on the ghost clan roster, but they appear in the ghost realm from time to time. I’m currently pursuing this lead, but it’s quite difficult to catch them.”
After finishing her explanation, Nan Shuang’s tone returned to its lazy demeanor, propping her head with one hand as she looked at Shang Can. “But regardless of how concerned you are, given your current condition, I still don’t recommend you go out.”
“…” After a long silence, Shang Can finally sighed in defeat. “Can you tell that my condition isn’t great?”
“Hmm.” Nan Shuang nodded. “So you should take the time to recover your injuries here. I’ll get you some medicine.”
“Since you mentioned encountering an illusion at the same time you fell into the River of Forgetfulness, to have emerged completely from that situation is already quite impressive.”
As she spoke, she poured herself a cup of tea, gently swirling the liquid, signaling it towards Shang Can.
“That last dose of medicine… if you drink it, you might truly be trapped in that illusion forever.”
“Fortunately, you are quite alert,” Nan Shuang sighed lightly. “How did you realize that it was an illusion?”
“…”
Shang Can furrowed her brows slightly and replied in a low voice, “At first, my memories were indeed very fuzzy; I couldn’t recall anything outside the illusion.”
“But then a… very annoying person appeared in the illusion.”
A dull pain began to throb at her temples, which Shang Can temporarily suppressed as she continued, “Then, for some reason, I suddenly realized it was an illusion.”
“Is that so?” Nan Shuang took a delicate sip of her tea and remarked calmly, “No wonder you are Shang Can.”
“Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you why you became a demon cultivator,” Nan Shuang looked at Shang Can and shifted the topic. “I remember you were the prodigy of Qing Yu when I was still alive—though looking at you now, I doubt you’d tell me, so never mind.”
“…Thank you.”
Shang Can silently expressed her gratitude, slightly puzzled as she frowned.
“Did you really pass away that early, Shuang Jiang?”
“Probably, but I can’t remember clearly.”
Nan Shuang’s tone was calm as she drank her tea with an indifferent expression.
“Not everyone can retain their memories clearly after death; I probably belong to the forgetful side.”
“I see.” Shang Can nodded awkwardly, recalling how she encountered a ghost by the River of Forgetfulness who seemed to remember things very clearly…
“Ah, him.” Nan Shuang suddenly looked at Shang Can with realization. “Did he not encounter any problems? Did he manage to board the boat successfully?”
Shang Can didn’t quite understand the meaning of her question, but she nodded blankly. Seeing the faint smile on Nan Shuang’s face, she sighed, “That’s good; his deception wasn’t in vain.”
“—” Shang Can froze for a moment and slowly repeated, “…Deception?”
“Mm.”
Nan Shuang set her empty teacup down on the table with a soft thud.
“His fiancée has already found a good match—I had someone deceive him, so he could let go of his obsessions and re-enter the cycle of reincarnation.”
Shang Can felt her mind go blank as she recalled the joyful smile on the man’s face. She clenched her fists slightly and whispered, “…What was the actual outcome?”
“The girl fell seriously ill,” Nan Shuang said calmly, lowering her eyes. “Before she came here to meet him and they both turned into vengeful spirits, I thought it was better to do it this way.”
“…”
Perhaps this was indeed the right choice, but Shang Can couldn’t find the words to respond.
Noticing the complex emotions on her face, Nan Shuang sighed lightly, “Do you think I shouldn’t have lied?”
“The so-called obsessions can lead to negative outcomes. Lies may not be honorable, but they’re often more palatable than bloody truths.”
“I don’t want the uncontrollable vengeful spirits to increase, so I lied; that’s all there is to it.” Nan Shuang’s gaze drifted into the empty space, ethereal and unanchored. “I don’t feel guilty about it. If telling a lie can achieve the desired outcome, I think that’s acceptable.”
As she spoke, she looked at Shang Can, her half-closed eyes strangely captivating.
“Shang Can, you really are a good child—feeling tired?”
Shang Can fell silent for a moment at this insinuation and retorted with a question, “Since Shuang Jiang hasn’t crossed the River of Forgetfulness and has become a Ghost King… does that mean you also have obsessions?”
Facing Shang Can’s inquiry, Nan Shuang pondered for a while and revealed a faint smile.
“Perhaps I do.”
“Perhaps?”
“Mm.” Nan Shuang responded happily to Shang Can’s doubt. “But I have no idea what my obsession is.”
“…”
Shang Can was momentarily speechless, and Nan Shuang leisurely stood up, smiling gently at her.
“There are ghosts like me, after all, since obsessions aren’t tangible.”
Feeling she had said enough, she walked towards the door. Just before exiting, she casually threw back one last remark.
“You look as though once you die, you’ll stand by the River of Forgetfulness until the sea dries up and the rocks crumble.”
“So whatever you do, don’t die, Shang Can.”
Shang Can stared blankly at the closing door, instinctively touching her own face.
…Did she really look that miserable?
With a resigned sigh, she lowered her gaze, and amidst her complex feelings, a thought suddenly struck her.
Ah, after hearing this, even if she later heard good news by the River of Forgetfulness that could resolve her obsession, she probably wouldn’t believe it anymore.
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