The Mystery of That Year, Infernal Ghost Mask

The Mystery of That Year, Infernal Ghost Mask

Yu Chen naturally had not foreseen these later developments.

His original plan had been to use a paper figure made in Old Mister Zhao's likeness to retrieve those storybooks.

—That way, even if someone discovered it, upon seeing Old Mister Zhao "return from the dead at midnight," they would likely not dare act rashly. Yu Chen could then seize the chance to leave with the storybooks. Who would have thought that a blunder would turn into a blessing, further preserving Old Mister Zhao's reputation afterward?

Under cover of night, Yu Chen received the box containing the storybooks in a shadowed street corner, put away the paper figure, and hurried off.

The night was hurried, and the silhouettes of people were busy.

In less than half an hour, he had reached Qingfeng Mausoleum.

—It had to be said, this Innate Body was truly useful. Normally, for Yu Chen to travel from Skybridge back to Qingfeng Mausoleum would take at least over an hour, leaving him panting for breath.

But now, even carrying a wooden box and avoiding people along the way, he could move like the wind without drawing a single heavy breath.

He sat down in the earthen hut and shut the doors and windows.

Yu Chen took out the wooden box. Driven by curiosity, he opened one of the books inside.

After reading only a few lines, he felt heat rise in his chest. He hurriedly shut it and stuffed it back into the box.

Old Mister Zhao looked stern and old-fashioned, yet the plots and positions in the storybooks he read were things Yu Chen had rarely encountered even across two lifetimes...

No wonder that even after riding the crane westward, he had died with his eyes unclosed.

If these things had truly spread, Old Mister Zhao's reputation of a lifetime would likely have been utterly ruined.

After hastily glancing through two or three books on top, Yu Chen cried that he could not handle it anymore and quickly opened the Scripture of Deliverance.

At once, a streak of golden light flashed out and drew every storybook from the wooden box into it.

When he looked again, on the banks of the Yellow Springs River, a ghostly figure bowed and stepped into the Yellow Springs, vanishing from sight.

A faint sense of loss rose in Yu Chen's heart.

First, because Old Mister Zhao had been so virtuous and highly respected, yet had passed away just like that.

Second, because all those fragrant and erotic storybooks had been taken away. What a pity for such exquisite treasures.

Shaking his head, Yu Chen suppressed his tangled thoughts and prepared to dispose of the wooden box.

But suddenly, he caught sight of something resembling a booklet at the bottom of the box.

His heart skipped a beat.

Could it be that Old Mister Zhao had heard his muttering thoughts and deliberately left one behind?

With that thought, Yu Chen opened the booklet.

Yet he discovered with some disappointment that it was not one of those heart-racing, ear-burning erotic storybooks.

More precisely, it was a handwritten record.

In the terms of his previous life, it was a diary.

It had been personally written by Old Mister Zhao, recording the trivial scraps of his ordinary days.

Most of it consisted of mundane daily matters Old Mister Zhao had casually noted down in his youth.

For instance, major and minor matters he encountered while serving as a registrar, or mischievous children he had met while teaching at a public school.

Yu Chen had never seen these things in the life-flashing lantern of the Scripture of Deliverance.

—The scenes within that life-flashing lantern were mostly fragments of memory, sketching out the deceased's life. Matters concerning unfulfilled wishes, however, were exceptionally clear. As for everything else, there had only been a rough outline, lacking many details.

After all, expecting to see every last detail of someone's several decades of life in just half an hour had never been realistic.

As Yu Chen leafed through Old Mister Zhao's diary, he had merely been acting out of curiosity.

Yet unexpectedly, he found records concerning himself within it.

[Below Hanging Bridge, I encountered the child of the Yu couple, named Yu Chen, and could not help but sigh deeply—descended from such men of lofty aspiration, yet reduced to wandering the streets. How tragic, how mournful!]

[Today, while out traveling, I encountered him again. Like his father, even when his face was pale blue from hunger, he refused to open his mouth and beg. Unable to bear it, I bought him clothing and food. When the Yu couple were alive, I was but a lowly registrar with little influence and could offer no help. Now that I have seen him, however, I can no longer turn a blind eye.]

In all, there were seven or eight entries, written at length.

They recorded every encounter between Old Mister Zhao and Yu Chen.

Yu Chen even found, near the end, that his being able to become a gravekeeper at Qingfeng Mausoleum had also been made possible only because Old Mister Zhao had secretly pulled strings.

He froze.

Yu Chen had never imagined that Old Mister Zhao's kindness toward him had not been born merely of pity, but because of... his parents?

In the diary of Old Mister Zhao, who had once served as a registrar, his parents had not been heinous death-row criminals, but... men of lofty aspiration?

Men of lofty aspiration—just as the name implied, people with ambitions and ideals.

How, then, had those two people of lofty aspiration become souls beneath an executioner's blade?

After a long silence, Yu Chen finally closed Old Mister Zhao's diary and placed it beneath the wooden bed.

He unfurled the Scripture of Deliverance. The wish of "worldly good repute" had vanished like smoke, replaced by another line of text.

[Ninth-Rank Mortal Wish Fulfilled, Ninth-Rank Mortal Soul Delivered, Bestowed Treasure: "Infernal Ghost Mask"]

As the gray words flickered, a pitch-black object flew from the Scripture of Deliverance and landed steadily in Yu Chen's palm.

It was an ink-black mask, neither metal nor wood in texture, more like it had been made from some sort of leather. Black ink formed its base, cinnabar traced its features, and its expression seemed to weep and smile, rejoice and resent. Merely looking at it sent a chill through Yu Chen.

The moment the mask entered his hand, an inexplicable realization echoed in Yu Chen's ears.

[The Infernal encompasses all manifestations. Worn upon the face, it conceals voice, breath, visage, and aura. Mortal eyes cannot perceive it; even heavenly eyes struggle to peer through!]

Put simply, it was a mask used to conceal one's aura. Once worn, it could hide one's form and suppress one's presence—a rare treasure indeed for murder and arson!

Yu Chen stroked the cold leather texture of the mask and put it on without hesitation.

In that instant, as his skin touched the leather, a coolness swept across him, and it fitted perfectly over his face.

At the same time, thick, eerie mist poured out from beneath the mask, transforming into a great robe that completely enveloped Yu Chen's body!

Though there was no mirror and Yu Chen could not clearly see his own appearance,

from the corner of his eye, he could tell that his entire body was shrouded in a pitch-black robe, with not even the slightest part exposed.

—Looking like this, let alone anyone else, even Yu Chen himself would likely be unable to recognize himself.

Then, with a thought, the great robe turned back into dense mist and sank into the Infernal Mask. The mask then seeped into his skin like flowing water, becoming impossible to detect.

Understanding dawned upon Yu Chen. The Infernal Mask had two states. One was that faintly ghostly mask form, which completely hid his body and concealed his aura.

The other was its current form. The mask sank into his flesh and blood, leaving no visible trace, yet still completely hid the surging blood and qi of Yu Chen's Innate Realm.

Good stuff!

Just what he needed, arriving exactly when he needed it!

Yu Chen took a deep breath, joy rising in his heart!

After all, although Bone-Forging Body-Tempering had brought his physical body into the Innate Realm, he still had to tread carefully in daily life, not daring to make the slightest unusual move.

That was because he belonged to a criminal household. He could not study, nor could he practice martial arts. Once anyone discovered his Innate Body, it would surely bring disaster.

But with the Infernal Mask, it would be far more convenient whenever he encountered wishes that required him to show his face.

With that thought in mind, Yu Chen put away the Scripture of Deliverance, only to feel his stomach rumbling with hunger.

That, too, was an effect of the Innate Realm. Whether in appetite or number of meals, it far exceeded the Yu Chen of before.

So he rose, lit the fire, cooked some food, ate his fill, then lay down on the bed and fell into a deep sleep.

It was worth mentioning that the Infernal Mask truly was extraordinarily wondrous. Even hidden beneath his skin, Yu Chen felt not the slightest obstruction while eating or drinking.

(End of Chapter)