"Brother Cheng, why don't you ever get old?" A little girl's voice made my vision brighten.
The dim room was lit by a single weak light. The bulb hanging overhead buzzed, its glow flickering on and off.
A girl with her hair in two pigtails crouched on the floor, staring at me with wide eyes.
"Because I'm the Eternal King," Cheng Jiu replied dismissively.
He thought again of the glorious life he had once led.
From his memories, I slowly pieced things together.
He was the Eternal King, ruler of a territory. He was a ghost, but lived like a human. He had even used his own yin energy to create a tangible body.
And in his kingdom, there were no laws and no police.
Debts had to be repaid, and killers had to pay with their lives.
He was the one who decided the latter.
In his territory, the dead were taken straight to be buried.
As for the killers, they were neither arrested nor reported.
Then one day, he would provide a keyword. Witnesses, those involved, conspiracy theorists, or random onlookers making wild guesses would post their theories on a designated website. People would vote on those theories over the course of a day. The truth might be among them—or it might not. Every evening, he would announce the answer. The ten people accused most often would be bound and taken to the square. The one who had guessed correctly would be burned to death; everyone else would be released. The people who submitted options and those who voted would each receive a reward.
It was like a reality show that played out every day.
Many people threw themselves into it with excitement. Others just wanted to take part.
Rather than calling Cheng Jiu the king of that