Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Not for the Money

The female ghost looked Gu Shi Yi up and down. Then something seemed to strike her, and her voice began to shake.

“You… you aren’t… aren’t you a cultivating Immortal Master…?”

Gu Shi Yi didn’t deny it. That was answer enough.

The ghost’s expression changed instantly. The inside-out rot vanished, and the face beneath it reappeared—pretty, delicate, and full of helpless misery.

“Immortal Master… Immortal Master, please save me!”

Gu Shi Yi said flatly, “I can’t help you with that. Why don’t you ask the Qing Spirit Guard to handle it? Xuan Cheng has the Qing Spirit Guard!”

Sometimes the Qing Spirit Guard did the same kind of work as the City God Temple—letting wronged souls plead their cases.

The female ghost gave a bitter smile. “I can’t leave the flower boat by more than ten zhang…”

Gu Shi Yi rolled her eyes. “Then I can’t help you.”

The female ghost burst into tears and threw herself to the ground. She clutched at the planks like she could hold Gu Shi Yi in place.

“Immortal Master! Immortal Master, you save the suffering and rescue the desperate—please, I really am suffering. I was sealed inside the flower planter. Every day I’m scoured by yin winds until it feels like my bones are being sanded down. I can only crawl out at midnight, and the flower boat is crowded with people—yin and yang all tangled up. I only dare hunt for lone travelers on the dock. If this drags on… I’m afraid I’ll turn into a vengeful ghost. I’ll end up hurting others and ruining myself!”

Gu Shi Yi listened, sighed once, and rubbed her temple like she already regretted hearing any of it.

“Do you have silver?” she asked. “If you have silver, I’ll help you once.”

The female ghost’s eyes lit up. She hesitated, then spoke quickly, as if afraid Gu Shi Yi would change her mind.

“I sold myself on the flower boat for three years. I saved some silver… but after I died, it was probably all scraped clean by her…”

She saw Gu Shi Yi’s face turn cold, saw her shift like she was about to leave, and panicked.

“But I—I secretly deposited some private silver in a money house in the city! You need a seal to withdraw it…”

She swallowed hard and added, “My seal is a ruby ring. It should be in her hands now. But she probably doesn’t know what it is—she’ll treat it like ordinary jewelry. As long as you can make her hand over that ring…”

“How much did you deposit?” Gu Shi Yi asked.

“About… four or five hundred taels.”

Gu Shi Yi’s eyes flickered.

Four or five hundred taels. Enough to buy comfort. Enough to buy distance.

“If I get that much silver,” she muttered, half to herself, “I can take a boat to the Huang Capital. A smooth ride, no road dust, no getting jolted half to death.”

And the job itself didn’t sound hard.

She looked down at the ghost. “So what do you want me to do?”

The female ghost was so relieved she nearly sobbed again. She bowed over and over until her forehead thudded against the boards.

“Thank you, Immortal Master! Thank you! I don’t ask for anything else—just let me out of there. Let me reincarnate…”

She paused, her voice turning smaller. “And if… if you could help me get revenge, that would be best.”

She lifted her head to watch Gu Shi Yi’s face. Gu Shi Yi gave her nothing—no nod, no shake of the head, not even a twitch.

The ghost hurriedly backpedaled. “If it can’t be done, then forget it! Forget it!”

Gu Shi Yi studied her for a long moment before speaking.

“For her to go as far as using an assassin’s hand on you… you two must’ve been fighting in the dark for a long time, weren’t you?”

After death, most ghosts didn’t lie unless their cultivation ran deep. And the way this one’s eyes kept darting away said plenty.

Sure enough, the female ghost hesitated.

“I… I only did small things,” she said. “A little face-rotting powder in her powder box. A little laxative in her bird’s-nest soup. I—I never meant to take her life!”

Gu Shi Yi nodded once. “Understood.”

She didn’t sound shocked. She sounded tired.

“That’s your karma between the two of you. You were wrong, but she had no right to take your life. That sin is her own, and she’ll repay it sooner or later. And sealing you under a flower planter so you can’t reincarnate?” Gu Shi Yi’s eyes cooled. “That’s a heavy crime. When she goes before the Underworld Court, she’ll be punished for it.”

She exhaled. “I won’t meddle too much. I’ll dig up your remains and bury them properly. That’s what I can do.”

The female ghost bowed until her whole body trembled. “Thank you, Immortal Master!”

Gu Shi Yi gave a short hum. “Go back. When the time comes, I’ll act.”

“Yes!”

A red flash shimmered—and the female ghost vanished.

Only then did Li Yan Er whisper, “Shi Yi… why won’t you help her get revenge?”

Gu Shi Yi leaned back against the railing and stared at the river lights, as if the answer was written there.

“I’ve told you before. This world has its own rules. The demon clan can’t just harm the human race whenever they please—if they do, they carry karmic debt, and every first rank they try to advance becomes hellishly difficult. And we humans have our own rules, too. People killing people isn’t random. It has its own accounting.”

She glanced at Li Yan Er. “That ghost and her enemy already had old grudges. Who knows what knots they tied in past lives. Those love-hate debts have their own cause and effect. I can’t shove my hand into it just because I feel like it.”

Her gaze sharpened. “But the woman who did this is vicious. People say death ends a debt—yang debts are paid among the living, yin debts are settled below. Blocking someone from reincarnating? That’s choosing to make an enemy across lifetime after lifetime. If the Underworld Court finds out, they’ll act.”

Not letting a soul reincarnate—then what was the Underworld Court for?

“She must’ve used some high-grade talismans to fool the night-patrolling Underworld Constable,” Gu Shi Yi said. “But you can hide it for a while, not forever. If that ghost keeps luring passersby and taking lives, and she turns into a vengeful ghost and causes trouble, the Underworld Constable will come knocking sooner or later.”

Li Yan Er frowned. “So you can act… but you still need a reason.”

“Exactly.” Gu Shi Yi’s mouth tilted. “So I asked her for silver.”

Li Yan Er blinked.

Gu Shi Yi continued, unfazed. “Silver is a kind of karmic tie. She pays me to save her, I take the job—that means I’m not forcing myself into their grudge. If they have unfinished debts from past lives, that karma won’t land on my head. I’m simply being hired.”

She nodded toward the river. “And if I pull her out, her enemy also commits fewer sins. When she goes before the Underworld Court, that’s one less mountain of guilt.”

“Tsk.”

Great King, who had been silent all this time, twisted his trunk and shook his branches with a cold laugh.

“Greedy. You’re greedy. And you make it sound so noble—like you’re pure as snow. If you’re so lofty, don’t take the silver.”

Gu Shi Yi rolled her eyes so hard she nearly saw the back of her skull.

“Then how am I supposed to buy you that big gilt-edged porcelain jar? Who was whining earlier that a broken clay pot doesn’t match your status?”

Great King choked, branches stiffening. He huffed and twisted away, sulking.

Li Yan Er couldn’t help asking, “Then if there’s no silver… you won’t lift a hand?”

Gu Shi Yi said, “Silver is one kind of karma. Other things are karma too. A bowl of porridge, a mouthful of rice, a stick of incense, a single favor—those all count.”

“So it’s whatever you say it is,” Great King cut in again, still bitter.

Gu Shi Yi didn’t even look at him. “Cultivators rely on their own hearts. If karma isn’t settled, it becomes heart demons when you try to advance. The more heart demons you have, the harder it is to break through. That’s why, through all of history, among so many cultivators, the ones who truly ascend are pitifully few.”

Her voice lowered, calm and sharp. “Cultivation is going against the heavens. Your debt is yours. If you don’t pay it, how do you ascend to the upper realm?”

That was why immortals seemed detached. That was why great experts hid from the world—to dodge worldly karmic debt.

Some cultivated in seclusion to avoid karma. Others entered the world to settle it.

Since she had promised the female ghost, Gu Shi Yi couldn’t leave. She found a sheltered spot out of the wind, sat down cross-legged, and let Li Yan Er and Great King absorb the moonlight while she meditated and moved her qi.

Li Yan Er leaned in. “How are you going to save her?”

“Easy,” Gu Shi Yi said. “I wait for the right moment, sneak onto the boat, smash the flower planter, and take out the bones.”

But the flower boat slept by day and lived by night. Right now was when everyone on board was at their brightest and loudest. She’d have to wait another hour or two—until the wine ran out, the laughter thinned, and most people had finished what they came to do. Aside from the rare freak who could go all night, that was when the guard would be loosest.

That was when she would move.

The three of them fell quiet and waited, each doing their own thing…

While Gu Shi Yi sat on the dock with her eyes closed, waiting for the flower boat to finally wind down, she had no idea that back at the inn where she was staying, five men with gloomy faces had already checked in.

It was late, but Xuan Cheng was still bright with night-life. In the inn’s main hall, a few scattered tables were still drinking. A shop assistant leaned against a pillar, yawning, eyes half shut. In the corner, the five men sat together.

“Brother,” one of them asked, “this Xuan Cheng isn’t big, but it isn’t small either. How are we supposed to find them?”

The man they called Brother was the oldest, around fifty. Narrow eyes. An eagle-hook nose. A thumb-sized black patch on his left cheek. He took a slow sip of wine.

“When we left, Sect Master gave us a treasure-seeking disk. Once it’s driven, it can sense the treasure’s trace within fifty li… but—”

He stopped mid-sentence.

Three scholar-looking men had just entered the inn, folding fans in hand. The one in front wore a gentle smile and greeted the shopkeeper like an old acquaintance.

The scholar noticed the stare and politely smiled back.

Brother swept his divine sense over them—ordinary mortals. Not worth a second glance.

He turned back. “But it makes too much noise. We’ll talk about it upstairs.”

“Fine.”

They ate in silence after that, except for Old Five, who waved the shop assistant over.

“Hey, bring another jar of wine!”

Old Two frowned hard. “Old Five. Enough. We’re here on business—don’t get greedy.”

Old Five shrugged. “Second Brother, we rarely get to come down the mountain. If we catch them tonight, we go straight back. Let me eat while I can.”

Righteous-path cultivators talked about cutting desire. Once they reached the Foundation Establishment Stage, they could fast for months; at the Nascent Soul Stage, they could go years without food or drink. The world’s pleasures were things to avoid.

But evil-path cultivators preferred letting their nature run wild—entering the Dao through desire. If they craved killing, they killed. If they craved gambling, they gambled. If they craved lust, they indulged. They searched for breakthroughs in excess.

So restraint was not something the evil path was known for.

Old Two wanted to argue again, but Brother’s face was dark and he said nothing, so Old Two swallowed the words.

After they finished eating and went upstairs, the room next to theirs had already been taken by those three scholars. The five men waited, spreading their divine sense out. When the steady rhythm of sleep-breathing finally came from both sides, Brother flipped his hand and produced a small, compass-like disk.

He spoke low and firm. “Sect Master gave me this. In his early years, he once saw Tong Xuan Sect Master use the Tong Xuan Treasure Mirror. They say it was terrifying. Back then, Sect Master sealed the mirror’s aura into this treasure-seeking disk. Thanks to that foresight, when the treasure appeared, the disk gave a sign.”

He set it on the table. It trembled slightly, humming under its own skin.

“Sect Master said that once I activate it, anything within fifty li that carries that aura can’t hide.”

Old Five leaned in, eyes bright. “If we have something this good, why didn’t we use it earlier?”

Brother’s gaze cut over, cold. “Because this is a secret treasure of the sect. They say it was made by copying an ancient artifact from the Immortal Realm. Even as an imitation, it’s powerful enough that Sect Master treats it as the treasure that guards the sect. If we weren’t hunting the Mystic Profundity Bright Mirror, he’d never allow us to bring it out.”

His voice sharpened. “And if you hadn’t used an assassin so carelessly and dragged the Qing Spirit Guard onto our backs, I wouldn’t have been afraid to show it.”

Old Five rubbed his nose and shut up.

Brother continued, the edge easing only slightly. “Besides. This thing drains spiritual power. With my cultivation, I can only drive it three times. After that, I’ll have to go into seclusion for a month to recover. Earlier, I didn’t know how far that old daoist priest and his apprentice had run. I couldn’t risk it. But now we’re in Xuan Cheng—this place isn’t that big. If they haven’t escaped, we’ll find them.”

He pressed a finger down and drove his art.

The disk flared.

White light exploded through the room—bright as a sudden full moon. It flooded the walls, the ceiling, the five men’s faces. Then it speared upward, slipping through the roof tiles and streaking into the night sky.

The others stiffened.

“Brother,” someone hissed, “that’s too loud. Won’t it draw the Qing Spirit Guard?”

Brother’s jaw tightened. “I didn’t expect it to be this loud.”

They were already being tracked. If the city’s Qing Spirit Guard came too, the situation would turn ugly.

But the light only lasted a handful of breaths before snapping shut. The five men crowded in.

A white dot had appeared on the disk, pointing south.

They grinned like wolves.

“We found them?”

“Yes.” Brother’s eyes gleamed—then narrowed.

The dot blinked, and then it began to race, sliding rapidly across the disk’s surface.

“Not good,” Brother barked. “The old daoist priest noticed. He’s running. Move!”

They sprang up at once. In the city they didn’t dare use flying light, so they relied on trained footwork, filing out the window and vanishing into the black lanes like shadows.

None of them noticed that not far behind, three figures had already hidden their forms and were gliding through the air, riding the wind in total silence as they followed.