Meanwhile—
On the streets of Northbank City.
A group of black-clad men hurriedly hid white lanterns throughout Northbank City, in haystacks, beneath eaves, beside swill buckets, and elsewhere. Carrying buckets of wraith blood, they dipped brushes into it and swiftly coated the drainage channels on both sides of the streets.
If Attendant Liu of the North River Chen Family had not been sound asleep at that moment,
he might have found them very familiar.
Those white lanterns were the most commonplace structure of all: the Soul-Calling Lantern.
They cost very little to make, and their only effect was to emit a faint white glow during the annual Qingming Festival.
In previous years, every household had hung one outside its door during Qingming to express their longing for deceased relatives. It was a local custom.
Tonight was not Qingming, yet someone had filled the entire city with Soul-Calling Lanterns, all concealed in extremely secluded spots.
As for those channels,
they were drainage channels the North River Chen Family had funded and built for all the city's residents six years ago. Many residents had praised them, but now crimson wraith blood was being smeared inside them, then covered with withered grass, Soil, and other materials to hide it.
The night was deep and quiet.
Countless people fell asleep contentedly, grateful to have survived the rainy season.
Inside the North River Chen Family estate.
The Chen Family Head, who had been lying in bed feigning sleep, suddenly rose and sat bolt upright. With a calm expression, he silently gazed out the window, his eyes seemingly piercing the courtyard walls and settling on Jiangbei Chen Family Station No. 37.
Under the dim oil lamp, he got up and stood before a tarnished bronze mirror in his room.
Its surface dimly reflected his deeply furrowed