Chapter Seventy-Three: The Warden King's Bargain

Wei Xiaoping watched as the prison ghost, scimitar in hand, vanished behind the grand doorway woven from ethereal blue light. His gaze wandered listlessly around him. They stood amidst a cluster of ancient-style buildings, numbering perhaps several dozen. Every part of these houses—the walls, roofs, doors, windows, all of it—was constructed from that same ghostly blue radiance.

Because these structures were formed of this luminous substance, they effortlessly kept the surrounding black river waters at bay—not a single drop could penetrate within. Thus, although Wei Xiaoping and his companions were deep beneath the river, the protection of this blue light ensured that not even the hem of their clothing was touched by water.

It was as though they resided within a house fashioned from thick, blue-tinted glass.

Before long, the doorway opened once more. The same prison ghost with the scimitar emerged, addressing Wei Xiaoping, “The King requests your presence!” He gestured invitingly.

“Thank you. Please lead the way,” Wei Xiaoping replied with a bow, then followed the ghost toward the doorway.

Behind them, Ma the Elder and Niu Dahua attempted to step forward as well, but six watchful prison ghosts barred their way. One announced, “The King did not summon you two. Wait here.”

Hearing this from the threshold, Wei Xiaoping turned back to glance at his companions before appealing to his guide, “May my two attendants accompany me inside?”

“Our King has permitted only you to enter,” the scimitar-bearing ghost replied without turning.

“Ma, Niu, in that case, please wait outside for the time being,” Wei Xiaoping instructed.

“General, what if you go in alone and something happens?” Ma the Elder protested.

“Don’t worry, Ma. I’ll be fine,” Wei Xiaoping reassured him as he walked inside.

“You’d better treat our master well,” Ma and Niu warned the six prison ghosts. “If you so much as disrespect him, we won’t let you off lightly!”

Following his guide, Wei Xiaoping looked around as they walked. The compound consisted of about forty houses, enclosed by a tall square wall two or three fathoms high. The buildings were neatly arrayed in ten or so rows, each row containing four houses, with the central row holding one extra. There were about ten columns as well, and two broad avenues intersected, running through the compound in all directions.

Every ten fathoms or so along these avenues, two prison ghosts stood guard, weapons in hand. The sentries varied in form: some had the heads of leopards and the bodies of men, some were true specters, some had become monstrous wolves, and so forth.

Wei Xiaoping, following the scimitar-bearing ghost, soon arrived before a house twice the height of the others. Ascending the steps, he entered a hall decked out like an ancient palace. Inside, the ghostly blue light cast everything in strange, shifting hues. On either side stood ranks of prison ghosts—some who had been human, others the spectral remnants of animals: lion ghosts, wolf ghosts, rhinoceros ghosts, elephant ghosts, and nearly every large beast that had ever walked the mortal world now lined the hall, perhaps thirty or forty in all, arranged in two files stretching forward.

At the end of these lines sat a towering figure, severe and imposing—a crown upon his head, his coarse features set in dignity, a grayish-white robe embroidered with the character for “King” draped about his broad frame. The throne beneath him was made of some unknown material.

The scimitar-bearing ghost stepped forward, knelt, and announced, “Ghost King, the guest is here.”

“Wang Jiming, summon him forward!” the King commanded sharply.

“Step forward and pay your respects to the King!” Wang Jiming, the ghost, barked at Wei Xiaoping.

“I am Wei Xiaoping. I pay my respects to the King!” Wei Xiaoping declared, bowing low.

The Ghost King scrutinized him. “Young man, you’re quite handsome and youthful. Are you a new spirit?”

“Thank you for your praise, King. Yes, I am newly arrived,” Wei Xiaoping replied.

“My subordinates tell me you fought four wolf-lion beast ghosts upon the river, and killed one. Is this true?” the King inquired.

Wei Xiaoping’s heart skipped a beat. So the King’s people had witnessed the battle. Were those wolf-lion beast ghosts his subordinates as well? If so, their troubles had just deepened—not only would they fail to secure the King’s help, they might well be imprisoned.

“Yes, I did fight four wolf-lion beast ghosts on the river and killed one. The other three escaped,” he admitted.

“You’re quite capable for someone so young. And the Lord of the Underworld sent you back to the mortal world so swiftly—clearly you were a good man in life,” the King mused.

“Thank you for your kind words,” Wei Xiaoping replied.

“Stand and speak,” the King commanded.

When Wei Xiaoping had risen, the King went on, “My men say you have two attendants—strange dogs with three heads each?”

“They’re two Underworld Hounds. They used to guard the Passage of All Things,” Wei Xiaoping explained.

“Underworld Hounds? You mean the three pairs who, for their lack of filial piety in their previous lives, were punished by the Lord of the Underworld—reborn as three-headed beings, husband and wife, in the mortal realm?” the King asked in some surprise.

“Indeed,” Wei Xiaoping confirmed.

“I’ve heard that after their rebirth in another world, these Underworld Hounds endured countless hardships, did much good for the villagers who aided their reincarnation, and were exceptionally filial to their former parents. Such devoted children and exemplary wives are rare indeed!” the King exclaimed.

Wei Xiaoping thought to himself: All the prison ghosts confined in the Black River Hell are the worst of the worst—monsters condemned by the Lord of the Underworld to permanent imprisonment for their unforgivable crimes. This Ghost King, having been locked up here, must have been a villain beyond redemption in life. Yet now, he lavishly praises the hounds’ filial piety—how rare! Could it be that confinement here has led him to understand the true meaning of existence, whether as man or ghost?

“Yes,” Wei Xiaoping agreed. “After their parents died, they could not bear to leave, and starved themselves to death by their parents’ side out of mourning. Their virtue moved even Heaven and Earth. When their spirits returned to the underworld, the Lord of the Underworld himself came to receive them. Such honor is unheard of—no spirit before or since has been so received.”

“If the Lord of the Underworld assigned these Underworld Hounds to serve you, it means your virtue surpasses even theirs,” the King said.

“You flatter me,” Wei Xiaoping replied.

“Since the Lord of the Underworld entrusted you with these two, you must possess some extraordinary quality. Tell me, why did he assign them to you? Or, what was your profession in the mortal world?” the King asked.

“I can explain, but King, we have urgent business and must leave Black River Hell soon. We hoped you might assist us—could you open a path so we may return to the mortal world quickly?” Wei Xiaoping implored.

The King studied him. “You have two days left in the mortal world before you must return to your body. There’s no need to hurry. I summoned you because I wish to make a trade with you.”

Wei Xiaoping was taken aback. The King, condemned to spend eternity in Black River Hell, could never leave—what sort of bargain could he possibly wish to strike?

“King, forgive my bluntness. As I understand it, all souls imprisoned here are confined forever. I’ll soon return to life, and you’ll remain here—our fates are as separate as the living and the dead. What could we possibly trade? Besides, after I return, I won’t be able to come back unless my time in the mortal world is up.”

“I know this. But if I proposed a trade, it’s because I’ve given it deep thought and I believe it possible,” the King replied.

Wei Xiaoping considered this—it seemed reasonable enough.

“King, could you tell me what this trade is before I agree? I’d hate to promise something I can’t fulfill, lest I be thought untrustworthy.”

“No rush. First, tell me—what was your profession in the mortal world? From my observations, I’d wager you were a soldier?”