Volume One: The Soul-Guiding Gourd and the Flame of Spirit Chapter Nine: Grandfather’s Relics

Time flew by, and before he knew it, afternoon had arrived. Gu Mo, who had been jumping about for quite a while, gradually slowed down, and the bed was covered with pale sweat stains.

At that moment, Old Master Chu looked into Gu Mo’s eyes and asked, “Child, since you returned to town the day before yesterday, why didn’t you go straight home?”

Hearing this, Gu Mo’s complaints rose unbidden in his heart. “Out of spite, and also to charge my phone.”

“Spite?” Old Master Chu’s face was drenched in sweat, and he forced a bitter smile before turning to Chu and asking, “Grandpa Chu, what kind of person was my grandfather really? Why was he so stubborn?”

Old Master Chu curled his lips and took a deep breath. “Child, why do you say that?”

Gu Mo’s grievances welled up. “He sent me away to study when I was little. He told me not to return to town for ten years or more, and even when he passed away, he didn’t let me know! Grandpa Chu, wasn’t my grandfather stubborn and heartless?”

Old Master Chu nodded faintly, his voice tinged with age. “You could say so.”

Gu Mo, now lazing about, spread his hands in resignation. “See? He was stubborn before, and still is now!”

Chu looked up at the ceiling, sorrow clouding his gaze. “The old smoker had his worries. Now that he’s gone, don’t blame him for it.”

Gu Mo agreed outwardly, but inwardly, those buried grievances were not so easily erased. After all, he had been sent away at a young age, and the feeling of being alone in a strange place always carried invisible threats.

Over the years, Gu Mo had worked many jobs—helping in restaurants, distributing flyers, delivering food and packages.

…

After a long while, Old Master Chu, accompanied by Gu Mo now dressed, walked into the small courtyard. The old man handed Gu Mo a black bundle.

Gu Mo quickly reached out to receive it respectfully.

“There’s a house key and a letter inside. The rest you can see for yourself.”

With that, the old man clasped his hands behind his back and slowly walked toward the gate.

“I live next door. If you’re free, come play chess with me.”

“Of course, Grandpa. Take care.”

“Mm. Your grandfather is buried on the eastern hill, as he wanted. All arrangements were made per his wishes.”

“Thank you, Grandpa Chu.”

Watching the old man leave without looking back, Gu Mo was deeply saddened. He still didn’t understand why even at death, his grandfather didn’t call him home, or why he was forbidden from returning for so many years.

When Old Master Chu left, Gu Mo collapsed onto a stone bench, exhausted, his right hand tracing the stone table.

After a while, Gu Mo looked up at the peach blossoms, and gazed at the white stone horse he’d ridden as a child beneath the courtyard wall…

It was only as night approached that Gu Mo picked up the bundle and returned indoors. Fresh air poured into the tidy room; he glanced around at the familiar old objects.

Sitting at the square table, Gu Mo examined the contents of the bundle.

There was a letter sealed with red wax, three ancient books, and a roll of bamboo slips. Most curious of all, a brocade box held an empty red leather gourd.

—

Unable to make sense of it, Gu Mo first tore open the letter to see what last instructions his grandfather had left.

Clatter! A key fell onto the table. Gu Mo spread the letter and began to read.

“Mo’er, by the time you read this, your grandfather will be gone. Remember three things:

First, the incense shop on the east side of town is yours.

Second, there’s an ancient oil lamp in the shop. On the seventh day of every month, at seven minutes past seven in the evening, you must refill the red leather gourd with oil. Never neglect this, ever!

Third, you must not leave the county within a year. Unless… You’ll understand the rest after a year.”

The most crucial part of the third instruction was blacked out, its contents unknown. Gu Mo held the letter up to the sunlight, but nothing was revealed. Questions crowded his mind.

“Sigh! Didn’t Grandpa know I had a key when I was little? Why didn’t I see any ancient lamp in the shop?”

Muttering to himself, Gu Mo curiously picked up the red leather gourd.

Bang—the cap came off. Gu Mo squinted inside. There was no oil to be found.

After pondering, he shook the gourd, but it seemed utterly empty.

With no clues, Gu Mo set the gourd aside and began flipping through the three ancient books.

The first was titled “Cloud Ascension Hidden Truths.” Opening it, he saw a portrait of the Three Pure Ones.

The book was divided into five sections: Ascension, Cloud, Hidden, Truth, and Formula. The Ascension section was tedious, filled with classical Taoist texts.

Gu Mo frowned; apart from Laozi’s Tao Te Ching, he knew little of Daoism, and these passages gave him a headache. He skimmed through quickly.

Strangely, most of the Cloud section’s pages had been torn out.

Notes in three different handwritings appeared throughout—one modern, the other two in traditional script.

Gu Mo shook his head in resignation. “Next time, I’ll just read the annotations. As for the traditional script and original text, I’ll study them later. No need to digest the whole book in one day.”

At the final chapter, Truth, he found all sorts of strange talismans drawn. Not understanding a word, Gu Mo put the book aside.

The second book was “Records of Fate and Spirits,” filled with stories of ancient spirits and monsters. It seemed less a serious text than someone’s diary, lacking dates.

The third, “Fuxi Boxing Manual,” gave Gu Mo a headache. He’d only ever practiced military boxing during training. Fuxi Boxing, he thought, must be similar to snake boxing, but the manual had no illustrations, just dense text, which he disliked.

He glanced at the other relics, then left them on the table. In the end, Gu Mo decided to visit the shop the day after tomorrow, and fulfill his grandfather’s wish by replenishing the oil lamp…

Night fell, rain beat the peach blossoms to the ground, and sleep eluded him.

Gu Mo lay with his hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling in a daze.

He wondered why there were never any mosquitoes at his grandfather’s house, just as it had always been. Elsewhere, summer mosquitoes were a nightmare. Maybe staying here wasn’t so bad.

Suddenly, a bone-chilling cold swept over him. The matchmaker Yama sat at the edge of Gu Mo’s bed, her commanding tone resounding.

“Minion, have you made up your mind?”

Gu Mo, head resting on his hands, startled upright. Meeting her gaze, he asked in alarm, “Made up my mind about what?”

Yama Jiang Jingxue smiled, her eyes clear as spring water, looking at Gu Mo. “To marry me, of course!”

—

Gu Mo was instantly covered in cold sweat.

He hadn’t expected this silly girl to be so persistent! Could it really be because he was born under the extreme yin fate? This was absurd! He needed to find an excuse to appease her, or his time would be up!

With that thought, Gu Mo’s mind churned with schemes.

“Your Majesty, on your wedding day, many cultivators might openly disrupt the Underworld. Aren’t you worried?”

Jiang Jingxue raised a brow, looking adorably confused. “Worried about what?”

Gu Mo began to sweat profusely, but for his own safety, he pressed on.

“Those ghost soldiers and messengers are all your subordinates. Aren’t you concerned for their safety?”

Jiang Jingxue gave him an innocent smile. “Not at all! My powers aren’t tied to the soul, so even if I go, it’s pointless! Besides, the Underworld has plenty of ghost soldiers guarding it. A bunch of riffraff couldn’t stir up much trouble!”

“Uh…”

Gu Mo was stunned. His instincts told him the Yama before him was truly a “silly girl!”

“She’s lived three thousand years! Not only does she love to eat and sleep, she’s utterly clueless, and her thinking is so peculiar! I wonder how her father, King Qin Guang, raised her!”

Gu Mo quickly put his hands together and silently prayed.

“Lord Yama, I meant nothing by it. If you heard me, please forgive my slip. Don’t hold it against me!”

Jiang Jingxue burst out laughing at Gu Mo’s antics.

Bored, she glanced around the room, and when her eyes landed on the things on the table, she gasped.

Three ancient books, a brocade box—all closely linked to the Underworld!

A shrill scream pierced the air, louder than any renovation racket, nearly tearing Gu Mo’s eardrums apart!

Gu Mo dug at his ears, glaring at the “silly girl.”

“What is it now, Your Majesty?”

Jiang Jingxue pointed at the relics on the table, dumbfounded.

“Minion! Where did these things come from?”

Gu Mo stared at her in confusion, then replied calmly, “They’re my grandfather’s belongings.”

Instantly, Jiang Jingxue’s gaze became vacant as she walked to the wooden table, picking up each relic to examine closely.

After a long time, she spun around, fixing Gu Mo with a penetrating look.

“Minion, who was your grandfather, really? Why did he possess books inscribed with the script of the Underworld?”

“Ah?”

Hearing this, Gu Mo was utterly bewildered, letting out a cry of shock…