Chapter Twenty-One: The Truth of Merit (First Update)

Witch Wang smiled and said, “Of course not. He was never the sort to yield, especially when facing the heavens themselves.”

The result was this.

In a fit of rage, Lin Xiaofeng stormed alone into the underworld. Wielding a pair of twin swords, one sliced through the River of Forgetfulness, the other cleaved open the Path of Yellow Springs. With a single strike, he pierced all eighteen levels of hell, unleashing evil spirits throughout the nether realm, slaughtering countless ghost soldiers and generals. Even several halls of the underworld were destroyed in the calamity.

Not only the underworld, but the mortal world suffered as well; Lin Xiaofeng’s fury brought devastation to the living. When he returned to the mortal realm with Bai Ningxiang and saw the destruction he had wrought, he realized his mistake.

He hated the heavens, but his actions harmed mortals.

Disheartened, he resolved to use his own path to save lives in the mortal world, exhausting himself in the process. Bai Ningxiang remained by his side, sharing his purpose. When the heavens learned Lin Xiaofeng’s path had faded, they decreed he must face tribulation and vanish from the Three Realms forever, leaving not even his soul behind.

Yet at that moment, a mysterious figure appeared and pleaded with the heavens, securing the preservation of Lin Xiaofeng’s soul.

Here, Witch Wang paused, gazed at me, and asked, “Child, do you know who this mysterious person was?”

Of course I didn’t, so I shook my head and asked her who it was.

But Witch Wang shook her head as well. “Actually, I don’t know either. But think about it: anyone who could persuade the heavens to spare Lin Xiaofeng’s soul is extraordinary.”

“However, it’s said this mysterious figure paid a price: he had to vanish himself, his path extinguished, and enter the mortal cycle for ten lifetimes.”

“That’s a heavy price. Why would he help Lin Xiaofeng?” I asked.

“That’s a question for him alone,” Witch Wang replied.

“What happened to Lin Xiaofeng and Bai Ningxiang in the end?” I pressed, feeling this was a story from a distant age. Yet Lin Xiaofeng’s act of severing the River of Forgetfulness and opening the Path of Yellow Springs for Bai Ningxiang moved me deeply. His refusal to bow to the heavens inspired me, stirring something in my heart.

“In the end, Lin Xiaofeng entered reincarnation, living ten lifetimes as a fool. Before he entered the cycle, he declared that for Bai Ningxiang, even a thousand lifetimes would be nothing; whatever the span, he would always find her, and even the heavens could not keep them apart. Bai Ningxiang vowed that, even if he was a fool for ten lifetimes, she would find him in each one and marry him.”

With that, Witch Wang concluded her tale. It was indeed a stirring story, their love truly enviable.

Yet, what puzzled me was why the spirit tablets of these two legendary figures would appear in my uncle’s shrine.

This thought jolted me.

“That can’t be possible,” I protested.

“What’s impossible?” Witch Wang asked.

“Their spirit tablets are currently worshipped in my uncle’s house,” I blurted out, thinking of my cousin and his wife.

“Really?”

Witch Wang was clearly astonished, even standing up, her face filled with disbelief.

My cousin’s simple-mindedness and the mysterious origins of his wife—their marriage seemed to echo the story’s reunion. No wonder such a beautiful woman had appeared so suddenly in Old Jieling Village, marrying my cousin without condition.

It turned out everything was destined.

Unfortunately, fate was cruel: my cousin’s wife lost her life before they could wed.

But for now, this was only my speculation. After all, Witch Wang’s story was ancient, difficult to verify, more suited as a legend. My cousin and his wife’s story could simply be coincidence.

The only thing I couldn’t explain was the pair of spirit tablets in my uncle’s house.

If my uncle were still alive, I could ask him, but now he was gone, leaving no one to question.

Thinking of my cousin, I remembered the paper figure in Grandpa’s shrine. Ever since that frightful encounter, I hadn’t entered Grandpa’s shrine again.

I wondered if my cousin’s paper figure still remained.

I’d speculated that perhaps after my cousin died, his soul attached itself to the paper figure—otherwise, the smile it gave me wouldn’t have been so vivid.

Having finished asking about my cousin, I questioned Witch Wang about the so-called Merit Soup. But she had never heard of it either, instructing me to keep watch on the villagers and report any oddities to her, so we could work out a solution. If possible, bring her a bowl; she needed to see it herself to judge.

Leaving Witch Wang’s house, I returned to the village, first stopping at my own home.

Gathering courage, I opened Grandpa’s shrine once more. This time, I didn’t see the paper figure, but found scraps of paper used for making such figures. This proved my previous sighting hadn’t been an illusion—the paper figure had truly existed.

Next, I went to my uncle’s house.

My uncle’s funeral would conclude tomorrow, three days since his passing, after which he would be buried. Tonight was the last vigil.

When I arrived, I saw Er Pang crouched by the wall, looking dejected. I approached and patted his shoulder; when he turned, his face was streaked with tears.

“Er Pang, what’s wrong?” I asked.

He wiped his tears and cursed, saying, “Boss, why don’t we buy more rat poison from town and kill those bastards!”

I knew something must have happened to Er Pang’s mother; nothing else would make him weep.

“How’s aunti