Still Enjoying the Human World

"Ancestors, my descendants—with pure hair and clean libations, I offer these sacrifices to the Great Ancestor, praying for your protection as the Chen Family overcomes this undeserved calamity..."

Here we go again!

Lying in bed, about to sleep, Mo Chuan frowned, his eyes burning with anger.

This damned auditory hallucination had returned.

He wondered what evil he'd recently encountered.

Ever since a week ago, he'd inexplicably started hearing faint, indistinct whispers.

At first, he thought someone's TV was too loud.

Later, he realized it was his own hallucination.

He'd been to the hospital, had his brain checked, but they found nothing.

Desperate, he'd even stayed in different hotels for several nights.

But the auditory hallucinations persisted.

And they were getting clearer!

Especially now, he could hear every single word.

"Damn it all, who the hell is messing with me? Come out!!!"

Even a clay figurine has its limits; Mo Chuan had completely lost it and roared furiously!

"Ugh—"

As soon as he finished shouting, his expression froze.

Right in front of him, an incense burner suddenly floated in the air.

The incense burner was made of something like purple copper, with two ears and three feet, adorned with dragon patterns and auspicious beasts. Three sticks of incense were inserted, emitting wisps of blue smoke that curved through the air and directly towards his face.

As the smoke entered his nostrils, a hazy mist also spread before his eyes.

In the hazy smoke, Mo Chuan saw a world superimposed over his bedroom!

It was a room in an ancient style, with carved beams and painted pillars, a vermilion shrine elaborately carved with deer and horses, and a table laden with offerings, sending a chill down his spine.

Notably, the incense burner on the offering table was identical to the floating, two-eared, three-footed burner.

At this moment, an old man was kneeling before the offering table, still partaking in the sacrifice, muttering incessantly.

—That familiar voice was precisely the hallucination Mo Chuan had been hearing.

"Father, stop praying! Stop! We have to escape, the Yellow Weasel Spirit is coming!"

A voice with a trembling tongue came from outside.

A young man in a grey, short-sleeved tunic rushed into the ancestral hall, grabbed the old man, and tried to pull him out.

"Escape? Where can we escape to? Without our few acres of land, we'll die anywhere!"

The old man said, his grief overwhelming him. He kowtowed, tears streaming down his face, "I've failed our ancestors! The incense offerings for the Chen Family will be cut off with me..."

"Father! How about you hand me over!"

Seeing this, the young man, unable to bear it, gritted his teeth and said fiercely.

"Slap!"

Unexpectedly, the old man slapped him across the face.

"You unfilial son, what nonsense are you spouting! Kneel down and apologize to the ancestors! You! The Yellow Weasel Spirit is seeking human form, and you just let it be, why provoke it?"

The old man's anger flared, and he pushed the young man onto the prayer mat, scolding him incessantly.

"Father! If I go along with it, I'll die!"

The young man cried out aggrievedly.

The old man's body stiffened, and with a thud, he collapsed onto the ground, his eyes vacant. He had been too angry and had spoken nonsense!

He knew very well that his son hadn't done anything wrong.

The ancestors had a saying: When a Yellow Weasel seeks human form, if you treat it like a human, you will perish; if you treat it like a god, you will decline.

One must know that humans are the spirits of all things, and their words carry prophecies. Prophecies, omens, mandates. (Prophecy, pronounced the same as 'chen' in 'chengyu' - idiom).

As the saying goes: "A word can establish a nation, a word can ruin a nation." "Do not speak of people in broad daylight, lest harm befall you; do not speak of ghosts at night, lest ghosts appear."

This speaks to the power of prophecies.

What the Yellow Weasel sought was this very prophecy for its transformation.

At this moment, Mo Chuan, who had witnessed the entire scene, finally realized what was happening, no matter how slow he was.

So he had become the ancestor of this old man and young man?

In that case, the so-called auditory hallucinations were the old man seeking ancestral protection?

Mo Chuan's expression became strange.

He had never married, nor had he left any descendants. How could he have such a large lineage?

If he remembered correctly, this old man claimed to be from the Chen family, and his surname was Mo. They were completely unrelated, weren't they?

Or was everything he was seeing now just a hallucination brought on by his severe illness?

"Wuwuwu—wuwuwu—"

Suddenly, a whimpering howl interrupted Mo Chuan's absurd thoughts.

Along with the babbling sounds, gusts of cold wind swept into the ancestral hall's shrine, scattering incense ash and making the candlelight flicker, casting terrifying, grasping shadows.

"Dad! It's here! It's here!"

The young man cried out in terror, his eyes bulging and bloodshot as he turned to look outside the door.

"My son, don't be afraid, don't be afraid!"

The old man instinctively shielded the youth, but his legs trembled uncontrollably, clearly having been scared out of his wits.

As they looked towards the doorway, a cloud of white smoke surged in.

In moments, it filled the ancestral hall, obscuring the candlelight.

Through the swirling mist, a colossal creature, its head brushing against the doorframe and crossbeam, slowly emerged from the thick smoke.

It resembled a swollen jackal, with a sharp beak, fangs, and crimson eyes as large as bronze bowls. The hair on its back stood on end, pointing towards the sky, a truly terrifying sight!

"Giggle giggle... Don't, don't come any closer... Don't come any closer!"

The young man watched the monster, vaguely visible in the fog, his teeth chattering. He babbled incoherently, his pants darkening noticeably, a foul odor wafting from him.

"G-Great Immortal Master! My son didn't mean to disrupt the immortal's affairs... We can discuss anything, please just spare my Chen family. My Chen family is willing to build a temple and offer sacrifices to the immortal..."

An old fox is a cunning old fox.

The old man gritted his teeth and pleaded tremblingly.

"I, Huang Buyu, have cultivated for over sixty years, weathered four tribulations and two calamities, and finally reached this stage of shedding the false to reveal the true! I never expected you lowly beings to ruin my immortal foundation and destroy my cultivation... Do you think building a temple and offering sacrifices can make up for that?"

The massive spirit monster roared furiously, thick smoke swirling around it like dragon clouds, a terrifying sight!

"Great Immortal Master, we can discuss this, we can discuss it..."

"There's nothing to discuss! I only want this brat's life to fill the void in my cultivation!"

The old man watched this horrifying scene, his face filled with despair, and cried out mournfully: "Ancestors, please save my son... save the Chen family!"

As his plea echoed, the incense sticks in the three-legged censer on the offering table burned more intensely, their wisps of green smoke drifting directly into Mo Chuan's nose and mouth.

Mo Chuan instinctively inhaled, and as he did, a profound, mysterious sensation surged through him.

— Consuming incense offerings resolves calamities for humans.

"Who?"

A sharp shout interrupted Mo Chuan's thoughts.

The colossal spirit monster, which had been peering into the ancestral hall, suddenly raised its head and looked towards the shrine's memorial tablet, its fierce expression tinged with a hint of horror.

"Screech—"

Outside the ancestral hall, a coiling dragon of lightning shattered the darkness, piercing through the carved wooden window and illuminating the interior.

On the vermilion-lacquered shrine, the incense smoke coiled around, like flames and dust, and an unidentifiable, imposing figure flickered into existence, appearing vividly above it.

Behind it, the Jie Netherworld Realm stood like a towering mountain.

A plume of extreme yin miasma shot upwards, piercing the heavens!

"Are you... the Old Ancestor of the Chen family?"

The colossal spirit monster's voice was filled with disbelief, and its body wavered, hesitant and unsure.

The Old Ancestor of the Chen family? Me?

Mo Chuan's mind stirred, and he lowered his head to look at himself.

He saw himself floating above a memorial tablet, his body transparent and ethereal, his lower body indistinct and imperceptible.

The candle flame, no bigger than a bean, cast a long shadow from the memorial tablet, but his own shadow was nowhere to be seen.

I... I've become a ghost?

Mo Chuan's heart pounded, unsure if this was a hallucination or a bizarre transmigration.

"No wonder the Chen family didn't flee or hide. It turns out they were relying on their ancestor's protection! What a pity, what a pity. Your form has dispersed and vanished, you are already a ghost that has become a jie, feared by ghosts, but I am not a ghost."

Huang Buyu said coldly. (Jie, pronounced like jian.)

Even so, it stared intently at Mo Chuan, unmoving as a mountain.

Jie? What does that mean?

Mo Chuan's heart suddenly lurched.

However, based on the Yellow Weasel Spirit's context, he vaguely guessed its meaning.

This spirit monster must have misunderstood something.

It's clearly probing me now. Once it realizes I'm all bark and no bite, it will definitely strike with killing intent!

What should I do?

If this were just an illusion, it would be one thing; But if I've truly, bizarrely transmigrated, I can't be careless!

"You do have some insight, knowing that when ghosts die, they become Jie."

Mo Chuan didn't directly answer the Yellow Weasel Spirit's words, subtly changing the subject.

"Do you take me for a wild beast, illiterate?"

The spirit monster sneered, then recited with a touch of pride:

"The Collected Rhymes of the Five Tones once recorded: When humans die, they become ghosts, feared by those who see them. When ghosts die, they become Jie, feared by ghosts. Jie lose their form and can only regain it by receiving incense offerings, after which they can become ghosts again."

Damn!

Ghosts can die a second time?

So I'm a level below ghosts?

Mo Chuan felt a pang of bitterness. How could he "resolve disasters for people" in this state?

"Then do you know where I come from?"

Mo Chuan's heart was pounding. He had to continue changing the subject, probing for information while searching for clues to break free.

"Hmph, you consume the incense offerings of the Chen Family, so naturally you are an ancestor of the Chen Family..."

As the Yellow Weasel Spirit spoke, its expression suddenly changed drastically, a shock that even its beastly face couldn't hide: "You, you come from... the Netherworld Underworld?"

It had been cautious for sixty years. Since it dared to accept the appointment to take the life of the Chen family's young man, it had naturally conducted thorough investigations.

Or rather, when it decided to seek human form and distinguish the true from the false, it had already investigated Chen Family Village.

The Chen Family had no protection from their ancestors.

It had lurked around the Chen Family and had never seen an external Jie!

This person had appeared out of nowhere, with that terrifying, never-before-seen phenomenon. There was no other explanation besides the Netherworld Underworld.

As for whether someone else had possessed him?

That was even more impossible!

Humans have prophecies, and incense offerings have their designated recipients.

Whoever's incense offerings are consumed, they belong to that person. Others simply cannot steal them!

Otherwise, wouldn't the countless temples and monasteries across the land have long ago become havens for demons and monsters?

"You are indeed knowledgeable!"

Mo Chuan replied.

He thought, since he was being mistaken for a Chen Family ancestor, naturally he came from the Netherworld Underworld, so he might as well play along.

"May I ask, sir, what is the Netherworld Underworld like?"

Huang Buyu asked. Although he had already guessed the truth, being naturally cautious, he still asked instinctively.

This was both to confirm and to leave himself an escape route.

As a spirit monster born of heaven and earth, the path to immortality was vast and arduous.

Even if he could distinguish the true from the false and condense into human form, forging an immortal foundation, he would only be starting at the same point as humans.

He had experienced too many tribulations, which had dulled his sharpness and increased his caution.

If he could gain advance knowledge of the Netherworld Underworld's appearance, he could make plans for the future if his efforts failed.

"What do you think the Underworld is like?"

Mo Chuan asked, various thoughts churning and bursting forth in his mind.

"The world says the Netherworld is gloomy and terrifying, filled with lonely ghosts and bare bones, a gruesome sight."

"But where I live, it's bustling with people, a prosperous era, and quite comfortable."

Mo Chuan's words were shocking. Since this spirit monster asked this question, it was either seeking confirmation or asking out of ignorance.

No matter how he answered, there was a fifty percent chance he would be wrong.

Since that was the case, he might as well take the gamble!

"What? This, this is impossible?!" Huang Buyu exclaimed in shock.

"Oh, why is it impossible?" Mo Chuan asked, secretly breathing a sigh of relief. He had gambled correctly.

"I've heard that the Netherworld Underworld is a prison and execution ground where the Ghost Emperor and Yama interrogate and punish sinners. How could it be a prosperous era and quite comfortable?"

"The so-called Netherworld Underworld is merely a self-consolation born from people's grievances that cannot be redressed and their pleas that go unheard. You, a great demon, believe this hearsay?"

Mo Chuan paused and then added:

"Furthermore, if the Ghost Emperor and Yama have the ability to judge, why don't they cut off the root of the problem? Why do they engage in such useless damage control?"

The Yellow Weasel Spirit was dumbfounded: "Sir... you're not tricking me?"

Mo Chuan chuckled, "If I were deceiving you, wouldn't that be exactly what you'd want?"

Huang Buyu was stunned. After a long moment, he finally came to his senses, his heart filled with a myriad of emotions. "You make light of my situation, sir!"

Its persistent questioning about the Netherworld Underworld, at its core, was born of cowardice.

Having cultivated for sixty years, while it hadn't taken human lives, it had frequently drained people's vital essence. If the Netherworld Underworld existed, its fate after death would be unimaginable.

At this moment, it was also intending to kill the Chen family's young master, draining the pond to catch the fish, to supplement its own cultivation.

If the Chen family's ancestor had intended to stop it, why would he have uttered the words "a prosperous era like a blooming flower"?

According to folk legends, wouldn't it be more satisfying to simply scare it a little?

Considering this, the Chen family ancestor's actions were not only honest but also likely a display of confidence!

That made sense. To be able to traverse from the Netherworld Underworld with just a wisp of incense offering, how could he be an ordinary person? However, to be safe, a test was still necessary.

With this thought, Huang Buyu's heart stirred. The thick smoke billowing within the ancestral hall vanished in an instant.

Its terrifying and ferocious form also suddenly deflated like a leaky pig's bladder, transforming into a weasel about half a person's height.

It wore wide, flowing robes and took out a stack of transparent objects from within its robes, offering them with reverence.

"Today, I am deeply indebted to you, sir, for your guidance despite my past transgressions. Huang is ashamed to accept, but this Painted Skin, made from the skin of those who died suddenly and entwined with yin miasma, can be used for your travel."

As its voice faded, the Painted Skin flew towards the shrine.

"You are thoughtful. Mo will keep it," Mo Chuan said with a smile.

"Mo... Mo's surname?" Huang Buyu was astonished. Wasn't it the Chen family ancestor? Why was his surname Mo?

Seeing this, Mo Chuan remained unhurried, offering no explanation.

"Pull back from the brink of the precipice. The greatest virtue is to repent. I hope you will conduct yourself wisely!"

With that, his body suddenly became transparent, and in front of Huang Buyu and the Chen family father and son, he vanished.

At the same time, from the incense burner with double ears and three legs, a wisp of ash fell from the burning incense. The last ember quietly extinguished.

The blue smoke that had enveloped it also lost its source at this moment and gradually dissipated.

Huang Buyu stared blankly at the scene. When he finally came to his senses, his legs felt weak, and he nearly collapsed to the ground.

The Painted Skin's yin miasma could do nothing to him, and he could come and go from the Netherworld Underworld freely.

What kind of immense power was this?

So, everything the old man had said earlier was just a test?!