Chapter Five: The Universal Transmigration Inquiry Office
Wei Xiaoping drifted toward the entrance, but before he could reach the door, the massive, three-headed hellhounds stationed on either side fixed their enormous eyes on him and began to bark thunderously. Each of the monstrous dogs was restrained by a chain as thick as a man’s arm. As they snarled, they lunged toward him, as if desperate to break free and devour him, but the chains were too short, and they could not reach him, so at last they relented.
Wei Xiaoping glanced at the other people coming and going. None of them seemed troubled by the monstrous dogs; only he uniquely drew their wrath, which he found odd. Still, he paid it little mind, for although the dogs barked ferociously and strained at their leashes to attack him, they could not reach him. Besides, as a battle-hardened soldier, he was not easily intimidated.
Ignoring the cacophony, Wei Xiaoping drifted serenely inside. As he reached the threshold, two strange figures emerged from either side of the doorway. He looked them over carefully—these figures were as tall as he was, and like him, they wore long white robes. But their emaciated frames made the robes hang on them as if draped over skeletal racks, their chests nearly touching their backs. Their faces were gaunt, with protruding cheekbones, sharp noses made even more prominent by their leanness, hollowed eye sockets ringed in black, pallid skin, and hands that resembled the clawed feet of a skinned chicken.
One of them blocked his path. “You cannot enter,” he said.
Wei Xiaoping replied, “Brother, I would like to come in and review the events of my past and present lives. Could you kindly show me the way? I’d be most grateful!”
The other figure said, “You are not allowed in. What are you here to review?”
“Why not?” Wei Xiaoping protested. “Aren’t all these people coming and going freely? Why am I the only one forbidden?” He gestured at the others moving in and out.
“You are not the same as they are,” one of the strange figures said.
“How am I different? I don’t see any distinction between me and them,” Wei Xiaoping insisted.
“They are all true spirits who have died and left their bodies. You are not,” the figure replied.
The other added, “Exactly. You are neither truly human nor truly a ghost. Only genuine spirits are permitted to review their past and present lives here. Beings like you—neither human nor ghost—are not allowed. Those are the rules. You should leave!”
“What do you mean, I am neither human nor ghost?” Wei Xiaoping asked.
One of the figures looked at him suspiciously. “Do you really not know what you are?”
The other said, “Did you not notice how, when you entered, the two hellhounds wouldn’t stop barking at you?”
“Yes,” Wei Xiaoping admitted. “As soon as I approached, they barked fiercely, as if they wanted to eat me.”
“That’s because you’re not qualified to enter,” one of them explained. “The hellhounds sensed it and tried to stop you. Didn’t you notice they barked at no one else, only at you?”
Wei Xiaoping was taken aback. “I did wonder at that—they ignored everyone else but singled me out. So it’s because I am not permitted entry! Then, are you two genuine spirits?”
“We are old spirits,” they replied. “We’ve been here for more than two hundred years, and have served as gatekeepers for nearly a century. The hellhounds have been here even longer. When we first arrived, they never barked at us—because we are true spirits.”
“The hellhounds don’t bark at others for no reason. Do you believe us now? You should go,” they urged.
“I believe you,” Wei Xiaoping said, “but can you tell me why exactly I am neither human nor ghost?”
“Because your body has not died,” one explained. “Your soul has only temporarily left your body from fright.”
“I haven’t died?” Wei Xiaoping was startled. “But my heart was pierced by a divine golden halberd—how can I still be alive?”
“Yes, your body still lives in the mortal world,” the figure replied. “Though it was pierced by a sacred weapon, you are merely unconscious for now.”
“That’s why the hellhounds barked to stop you—this is the rule of the Transmigration Registration Office. If you force your way in and the supervisors find out, both we and the hounds would be punished.”
At last, Wei Xiaoping understood why the hounds and these two ghostly gatekeepers refused him entry. He thought to himself, since the rules prohibit it, he shouldn’t insist and risk causing trouble for others.
Yet his curiosity burned brighter than ever. He yearned to know what had happened in his past and present lives, to understand if there was any connection with Wei Xiaofan, or where and when those connections might have been strongest. He wanted to know who had taken Wei Xiaofan in or captured him after their separation, and what events had shaped him into who he was now. He wondered where his parents, Wei Tianhong and Wei Xiuzhu, had transmigrated or been reborn, what time and place they had gone to, and what they looked like now.
His longing to uncover his own history grew urgent. He asked the two ghostly gatekeepers once more, “Gentlemen, is there any way to make an exception for me to go in and review my records of transmigration? It is of utmost importance to me. Please, help me!”
The two ghosts, seeing Wei Xiaoping’s almost pleading tone, retreated to the gatehouse to confer.
“Brother, the young man seems genuinely desperate. He’s rather pitiful. Why not bend the rules just this once, if he can meet our requirements?”
“Hush! Whatever exceptional cases we may have allowed in the past must remain forever secret. We must always insist there have never been any exceptions—understand?” whispered the one called Brother, making a hush gesture.
“Oh! I forgot your earlier warning. So then, should we let this fellow in?”
“He doesn’t look like he has much to offer—just that robe, nothing of value. Letting him in would be for nothing.”
“True. If the supervisor finds out, we’ll be scolded for nothing. Not worth it. But let’s test him first, see if he really has nothing on him. It’s been ages since we benefited.”
“My thoughts exactly. Old habits die hard. Let’s see what he can offer us, and if he has nothing, we’ll just send him away.”
“Right, let’s go ask.”
The two gatekeepers emerged and said, “We do feel sorry for you, but if we make an exception and let you review your past and present lives, we risk punishment. At best, we’d have to do decades more of this dull gatekeeping; at worst, when we transmigrate, we might be sent to some barren wasteland where nothing grows. That would be true suffering.”
Wei Xiaoping, hearing this, nodded. “Then I won’t trouble you. I’ll wait until my body truly dies and I become a real spirit. Then I’ll come back to check my records.” With that, he turned to leave.
But the two gatekeepers quickly said, “If we do make an exception, what will you give us in return? We can’t risk punishment for nothing.”
Wei Xiaoping considered their words. “What would you like as compensation? I brought nothing with me when I left my body, so I’m not sure what I could offer.”
“What we want is something practical—money, currency we can use to buy things,” they replied. “We have no worries about food, shelter, or clothes here—just money.”
Wei Xiaoping was surprised. “You need money in the underworld? That’s the first I’ve heard of it. What would you do with it here?”
“We don’t use it here,” the gatekeepers replied. “We save it to use in the mortal world.”
Wei Xiaoping was astonished. “You plan to take money with you when you reincarnate or transmigrate? But you can’t know in advance what world you’ll go to, or what currency will be used there.”
“That’s true,” they said. “So whenever a spirit comes to us for help—no matter which world they’re from—we ask for some of their currency. We save it all, and when King Yama finally lets us transmigrate, we’ll take it with us. If the new world uses any of the currencies we’ve collected, we’ll be ready.”
Wei Xiaoping replied, “You really are farsighted! I’m impressed. How many kinds of currency have you saved? Tell me what you have and I’ll see if I’ve got any of the same kind.”
The gatekeepers laughed. “Whatever you used in the mortal world, we want it. Just give us whatever you have, and we’ll let you in.”
“But I brought nothing with me,” Wei Xiaoping said. “Can I owe you and repay when my body truly dies and I become a real spirit?”
The two gatekeepers conferred quietly, moving a little further away. “Another one asking to owe us! In that case, let’s charge a higher price, with interest.”
“Yes, make the interest steep. That way we’ll profit faster. All souls have to come here after death for transmigration paperwork, so we don’t need to worry about them defaulting.”
“Right. From now on, anyone who wants to owe us pays a premium.”
“How much should we charge? You’re the elder, you decide. And since you’re the elder, you should take a bigger share of the split!”
“Agreed. Once I close the deal, I’ll take twenty percent as a bonus, and we’ll split the rest equally.”
“Fine, let’s go negotiate.”
They returned to Wei Xiaoping. “Since you brought no cash, you can owe us—but we’ll have to charge interest. With interest, the total will be forty-four thousand, four hundred and forty-four yuan, forty-four cents, four tenths, and four hundredths. Can you accept that?”
Wei Xiaoping wondered whether this was high or low but decided not to haggle. His only desire was to discover the events of his past and present lives and deduce the possible connections with Wei Xiaofan and his parents.
“Very well,” he said. “Bring me some paper and I’ll write you an IOU. Then take me in and show me how to search the records.”
“We can take you in, but teaching you how to search will cost an additional four hundred and forty-four yuan, forty-four cents, four tenths, and four hundredths,” the gatekeepers bargained.
“All right. Bring the paper, let’s get this signed, and then take me in and show me how to do it.”
With that, the two ghostly gatekeepers led Wei Xiaoping into the gatehouse beside the main entrance.