Chapter 58: A Fading Remnant of Soul

“Such a small underworld messenger, yet you speak with such arrogance!”
With a furious shout, Weiyang’s eyes once again turned crimson. She formed a spell with her fingers, and a scarlet silk shot forth, aiming straight for the peddler’s throat.
I had forgotten that nothing enraged Weiyang more than the forces of the underworld.
The peddler was momentarily startled, but as he set down his carrying pole, he drew a cleaver from his basket.
The blade gleamed with a cold light. With a few swift movements, Weiyang’s silk was shredded into fragments, fluttering like petals in the chilling wind, scattering across the ground.
“Brazen female ghost, you dare lay a hand on a messenger of the underworld? Today, I’ll scatter your soul to the winds!”
The peddler’s expression twisted in fury. In an instant, the air around him surged with dark winds, sand and stones danced, leaves rustled like the clapping of ghosts, and his funeral garb billowed violently.
With a tremor of his hand, the cleaver was about to fly.
“Stop! If you kill her, you’ll regret it!” Niu Dahuang rushed to intervene.
“Oh? Today, I’ll kill her and see just how I’ll regret it!” The peddler’s cold laughter chilled the air.
Weiyang was no easy target; her voice rang out coldly, “Vile rat of the underworld, you must die!”
Tension crackled in the air, and even Daoist Li drew a yellow talisman, ready to assist against the peddler.
“Wait! Wait! Don’t fight yet—hear me out, please!”
Niu Dahuang rushed between them. Weiyang certainly wouldn’t harm him, and though the peddler was an underworld messenger, he wouldn’t kill the innocent either, so he refrained from attacking Niu Dahuang.
Seeing their standoff, Niu Dahuang finally breathed a sigh of relief. He did not shy away from the peddler, but moved beside him and whispered something.
During the conversation, the peddler glanced at me.
Once they finished, the oppressive aura faded from the peddler. He threw the cleaver back into his basket and said, “Very well, it seems you’re lucky today. I’ll let you go—for now.”
He hoisted his carrying pole and turned to leave. But Weiyang was not about to let him depart unscathed. Niu Dahuang quickly said, “Miss Weiyang, he cannot be killed!”
“And why not?” Weiyang asked, her crimson gaze terrifying.
“Miss Weiyang, the time is not yet right. It cannot be revealed now. Please, do not be angry; when the time comes, all will be clear.”
With much persuasion from Niu Dahuang and a few words from me—after all, the peddler had saved me once before, and he did not seem to be just a simple underworld messenger—Weiyang finally relented. She said nothing, merely turning away.
“Scissors for knives, knives for scissors, good knives, sharp scissors, thread and soap, matches, candies, pipes—trade what you have, get what you want…”
The peddler cried out his wares as he walked, gradually disappearing into the misty woods.
Afterward, I asked Niu Dahuang what he had said to the peddler to make him give up the chase. Niu Dahuang replied it was nothing special; he simply told the peddler that there were many spirits in the Forest of Storage, enough to fill both his baskets.
Only later did I learn the truth; Niu Dahuang had not told him that at all.

Originally, I worried the peddler would tip off the underworld soldiers, revealing our hiding place. But Niu Dahuang assured us we had nothing to fear. Though the peddler was an underworld messenger, he would never do such a thing.
I asked why. Niu Dahuang, perhaps teasing, said, “It’s always better to feast alone than to share with those underworld soldiers. Isn’t that more profitable?”
I could only nod—it did make sense.
Soon after, we entered the Mountain God Temple.
Niu Dahuang used talismans to seal the temple’s formation from within. We had fled in the middle of the night and were utterly exhausted. Once he settled us in, everyone went to rest. Lying down, I thought, surely the underworld soldiers will leave tomorrow, and I can go wait for my grandfather—perhaps he will return!
Yet, just then, the bamboo hat hanging behind the door fell to the ground.
I got up, picked up the hat, and hung it back. Weiyang asked what was wrong. I told her something had fallen, and paid it no mind. But as I returned to the bed, the hat fell again.
Perplexed, I wondered what was happening.
With no other choice, I placed the hat on the table, thinking it would be more stable. The hat made no further disturbance, and I finally slept in peace.
That night, I dreamed.
Perhaps from longing, I dreamed of my grandfather. He told me his lower body was soaked in water and cold, urging me to pull him out.
Looking closer, indeed, he seemed to have fallen. He crouched beside a large puddle, water up to his waist, soaked through and shivering.
I hurried over, trying with all my might to drag him from the water, but no matter what, I could not budge him.
Anxious, I woke.
Weiyang was gone from the bed. Looking around, I saw her already dressed in a clean crimson robe, brushing her hair.
Her tresses flowed like a dark waterfall, stunningly beautiful.
Seeing Weiyang, I realized the dream of my grandfather had been nothing but a dream.
I got up. Hearing movement, Weiyang glanced my way. After a night’s rest, her complexion looked much improved. Still worried for her injuries, I asked how she was. She said they were minor, a little rest would suffice.
I saw the pair of red hairpins on the table and picked them up, ready to help her put them on. But noticed the bamboo hat lay in the washbasin, half submerged.
Finding it odd, I quickly pulled the hat out and asked Weiyang. She said that, upon rising, she found the hat on the floor and placed it on the table, only for it to fall again.
The more I thought, the stranger it seemed.
Could it be that the ferryman’s soul lingered within the hat? Impossible—he was but a soul when he descended to the River of Forgetfulness to seek the Mountain God Token for my grandfather; he could not have left his soul behind. If not the ferryman, then who?
Weiyang finished her toilette; I helped her set the red hairpins and we left the room. Next door, breakfast was already prepared.
It was Niu Dahuang’s handiwork, a spread of mountain herbs and wild fare, but the taste was excellent. As I sat, the aroma made my mouth water and my stomach grumble.

After a few bites, I looked at Weiyang and asked why she wasn’t eating. She replied that she and the Flower Maiden would soon light a stick of incense to smell, and that would suffice.
Only then did I remember—they were spirits, unable to partake in mortal food.
During the meal, I mentioned the oddity with the bamboo hat. Niu Dahuang and Li Nanhua paused, their bowls midair.
They asked for details, and whether I had any strange dreams last night.
I had indeed—a dream of my grandfather trapped in a water pit, unable to escape. I had never thought such a thing, yet dreamed it.
As I finished recounting, I suddenly recalled the hat in the washbasin; the two events seemed connected.
I looked back at the hat.
Niu Dahuang and Li Nanhua also turned their eyes to it.
We all realized that perhaps the hat truly harbored a soul, and it was likely my grandfather’s. For some reason, he could not appear, but could only communicate through dreams.
The thought filled me with excitement.
Li Nanhua set down his chopsticks and drew a yellow talisman from his sleeve. This was a Soul-Summoning Talisman, much like my grandfather’s soul lantern. He formed a spell and brought the talisman close to the hat, silently chanting, moving to the dim area behind the door.
Sure enough, a shadow emerged from the hat, its outline faint but unmistakable.
Yet it was enough for me to recognize him—my grandfather.
I was overjoyed.
I hadn’t expected that grandfather had truly returned.
Thinking back, when Weiyang and I left the cliff’s summit, I glimpsed a shadow. Walking, I always felt someone followed, tugged at my clothes. Now it was clear—it had been grandfather all along.
Li Nanhua placed the talisman back in the hat.
“Lin Yi, your grandfather has only a fragment of his soul left. It is exceedingly weak, and will last less than half a day before dissipating. I can use a Soul-Locking Talisman to delay its dispersal, but even then, no more than three days.”
“Is there any way to save my grandfather?” I asked. Li Nanhua’s expression was calm, as though he had a plan.
“There is a way. Lin Yi, only you can save him.”
“Me? How?”
“Your grandfather has only a remnant soul, normally with no hope of revival. But with you, there is a chance. By the way, do you still have his Mountain God Token?”
“The Mountain God Token, I… I threw it off the cliff.”
“What?” Li Nanhua exclaimed.
Clearly, my action shocked him greatly, and from his expression, the Mountain God Token was likely the key to saving my grandfather.

If you enjoy "The Calamity of Yin and Yang," please bookmark it; its updates are the fastest.