Summoning the Soul 7

Chapter 7: Riverside Immortal (Part 1)

Perhaps it was the winter-like chill that emanated from him, but the blood flowing from the corpses at his feet, illuminated by the moonlight, seemed to give off a faint, white mist.

The mountain wilderness was vast, the only sound the incessant chirping of cicadas.

“Dead… are they all dead?”

Ni Su heard a terrified cry from behind her. She turned and saw the two servant boys clinging to the carriage door, trembling violently.

She turned back. Corpses lay scattered across the mountain path, but the figure who had stood there moments ago had vanished.

A chill ran through her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to return to the carriage and retrieved some banknotes from her bag, dividing them between the two servants.

“M-Miss, who saved us?” one of the servant boys asked, his voice trembling, finally comprehending what had happened.

“I don’t know,”

Ni Su said, her lips pressed together. After a moment, she added, “You came with me. If you return to the Ni family, Second Uncle won’t spare you. Take this money and leave.”

“But Miss, you…”

The thinner servant boy hesitated, but his companion tugged at his sleeve, silencing him. Remembering the blade that had almost sliced his neck, fear gripped him.

“Thank you, Miss! Thank you, Miss!” The dark-skinned servant boy pushed the other boy’s head down, and they both kowtowed repeatedly, expressing their gratitude.

The experience had terrified them. The journey to the capital was long, and who knew what other dangers lay ahead? Ni Su knew she couldn’t keep them. She watched as they scrambled out of the carriage and ran down the mountain path into the dark wilderness, quickly disappearing from sight.

Sitting in the carriage, she could still smell the lingering scent of blood.

The carriage curtain had been slashed by the bandit. Moonlight spilled onto the floor near her feet. Ni Su stared at it, then tentatively spoke, “Are you still here?”

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

In the hot summer night, a gentle breeze suddenly brushed her face, stirring the hair around her ears. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her gaze shifted to the window, obscured by the bamboo curtain.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Holding her breath, she cautiously lifted the curtain.

The faint moonlight illuminated her face. Ni Su saw him standing by the window, his figure somewhat translucent, almost transparent.

It seemed that if she touched him, he would dissolve into mist, just like he had in the cypress grove at the temple.

Ni Su quickly lowered the curtain. Sitting in the carriage, she gripped her skirt tightly. After a long silence, she finally found her voice. “You… you’ve been following me?”

A gentle breeze stirred, as if in silent answer.

Ni Su turned, looking at the bamboo curtain. “Why are you following me?”

“Without a summons, the deceased cannot enter the mortal realm.”

The voice from outside was flat, cold, and deathly still.

Ni Su immediately remembered the winter clothes she had burned. Her lips trembled. “An old monk… he asked me for a favor.”

Suddenly, it all clicked. She retrieved the beast bead from her sleeve.

“What’s in your hand?”

The figure outside seemed to sense something.

Ni Su pursed her lips, hesitated, then extended her hand out the window.

The bamboo curtain brushed against the window frame, making a soft sound. The young man turned his head, his features cold and clear. Tentatively, he reached out.

His icy fingers brushed against hers. A shiver ran through Ni Su, as if she had been enveloped in ice and snow. For a brief moment, the beast bead slipped from her fingers into his palm.

His eyes were vacant as his fingers traced the patterns on the bead. His eyelids flickered. “It’s him.”

“Who?”

Ni Su keenly heard his certain tone.

“The Earth Lord of Youdu.”

Youdu? Earth Lord?

Ni Su had heard of “Youdu,” but the more common terms nowadays were the Yellow Springs or hell. But who was the Earth Lord?

And why had he orchestrated this, leading her to summon this spirit?

“If you don’t leave now, you might encounter officials.”

The beast bead was tossed back into the carriage, rolling to her feet. Ni Su, startled by his words, understood his warning. Someone was coming.

She picked up the beast bead and clumsily grabbed the reins. The carriage lurched awkwardly along the mountain path. Ni Su couldn’t quite control it, but she didn’t dare delay, heading in one direction.

After a long time, still not seeing the outline of Qiao Town, Ni Su realized she had gone the wrong way. Fortunately, she found a dilapidated mountain god temple to take shelter in.

She lit a candle inside the temple and sat huddled on a pile of dry grass, tears streaming down her face.

She knew that Ni Zong’s willingness to spend so much to capture her meant he had discovered that Cen Shi had sold the land and estate and that she had the money.

This could only mean one thing.

Mother was gone.

Her eyes red and swollen, Ni Su clenched her jaw, burying her face in her arms. Suddenly, she felt a cool breeze on her back. She shivered and instinctively sat up straight.

She didn’t look towards the temple door behind her. After a long while, she spoke, “Why did you help me?”

Her voice was choked with unshed tears.

The dim candlelight illuminated Xu Hexue’s face. His eyelashes flickered, and a glimmer of light appeared in his vacant eyes. He shifted his gaze, seeing the young woman huddled on the dry grass, her back to him.

“What year is it?”

Ni Su waited a long time before hearing his unexpected question. Without turning around, she answered truthfully, “The nineteenth year of Zhengyuan.”

The nineteenth year of Zhengyuan.

Xu Hexue was taken aback.

One month in the mortal realm was equivalent to half a year in Youdu.

He had been in Youdu for nearly a hundred years, while only fifteen years had passed in the mortal realm.

Ni Su didn’t hear him speak again, but looking at her own shadow on the ground, she remembered the phantom she had seen before. “Why did I see my brother’s image behind you that day in the cypress grove outside Da Zhong Temple?” she asked.

“Perhaps I touched his soul fire,”

Xu Hexue said, his voice cold and indifferent, standing under the eaves.

“What do you mean?” Ni Su had been avoiding a certain thought for days. She abruptly turned around, the candlelight illuminating her red-rimmed eyes. “Are you saying my brother…”

The candle flame flickered. The figure outside the door, which had been fainter than moonlight, seemed to have gained substance.

“Youdu and the mortal realm are separated by the River of Resentment. The reed beds by the river are often frequented by new souls, including the soul fires of those suffering from soul loss.”

Only those afflicted with soul loss would have their soul fire, flickering like fireflies, drift to the banks of the River of Resentment. Only their blood relatives could see the phantoms formed by these soul fires.

“How could my brother be suffering from soul loss?” Ni Su’s mind raced, her mother’s words echoing in her ears. Tears welled up in her eyes again.

Was her mother now by the River of Resentment, among the reed beds?

Suppressing her grief, Ni Su looked up. The man stood tall and slender, his back to her, his head raised as if looking at something in the vast night sky.

Looking at him like this, he seemed no different from an ordinary person.

As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned. His clear, cold eyes met hers, and his pale lips parted slightly. “Ni Su.”

He had heard people call her that more than once.

He also knew she was going to the capital.

Ni Su stared at him, speechless.

“I was summoned by you and cannot leave your side in the mortal realm. But I also have unfinished business.” Xu Hexue looked at her intently. “Therefore, let’s make a deal. On our journey to the capital, I will help you find your brother, and you will help me achieve my goal.”

In the dilapidated mountain temple, under the vast summer night sky, Ni Su asked after a long silence, “What is your unfinished business?”

“The same as yours. Finding someone.”

“Finding who?”

Xu Hexue lowered his gaze, and Ni Su followed his line of sight to the silver embroidered characters on the edge of his sleeve.

“An old friend,”

he said simply.

Perhaps it was the friend who had prepared these winter clothes and written the inscription, yet hadn’t burned them for him for fifteen years, Ni Su remembered the old monk’s words.

Ni Su remained silent, and he, standing outside the door, didn’t speak either. She noticed that his shadow on the ground was a floating, shimmering, furry light.

Traveling with a ghost, Ni Su shouldn’t have had the courage.

“Alright,”

Ni Su said, her throat tight, meeting his gaze. “As long as you don’t harm innocent lives or cause unnecessary trouble, I agree.”

She lay down on the dry grass, her back to him, and closed her eyes.

But she couldn’t sleep.

Not only was there a ghost outside she couldn’t escape, but every time she closed her eyes, she saw her mother’s face, her brother’s face. Tears welled up again. She sat up and took a piece of dry ration from her bag, eating it slowly.

She looked back and saw his shadow again, furry, seemingly with a tail, like some unknown creature, lively and endearing.

Ni Su looked up and unexpectedly met his gaze.

She didn’t realize there were still tears on her cheeks. Seeing him staring at her, she looked down at the dry ration in her hand.

She broke off a piece and offered it to him.

But he didn’t move, his expression indifferent.

Ni Su withdrew the half-eaten ration, stared at the candle flame for a moment, then rummaged through her bag and pulled out another candle. Tentatively, she offered it to him. “Do you… ghosts… eat these?”