Tang Changsheng had been about to shake his head and say no, but a thought suddenly struck him. He smiled and said, "I'd like to take a look inside the Netherworld Office. I wonder if there's anything good left in its treasury!"
"The Immortal Sects and the Criminal Ghosts have looted the Netherworld Office's treasury several times. It's empty in there—not even a nail left, I'm afraid."
Seeing Tang Changsheng's disappointment, Clerk Song did not dare keep him in suspense. He smiled. "But I happen to know of something else valuable: a supply of Spirit Iron."
"Spirit Iron? That's good stuff. Where is it?"
Tang Changsheng's heart leaped. Clerk Song glanced around furtively, leaned close to his ear, and whispered a few words. Tang Changsheng's expression changed drastically. "Really?"
"If this lowly ghost has spoken a single lie, may the heavens strike me with five thunderbolts!" Clerk Song protested.
Tang Changsheng knew that mortals could swear oaths carelessly, and nothing would come of it unless a passing Ghost God heard them. But when Ghost Gods swore an oath—even a mere Ghost Official—they could not speak lightly. It was bound to come true!
Tang Changsheng believed him at once, and wild joy surged through him. I must tell Martial Uncle. We have to secure this Spirit Iron Mine no matter what. I'm sure he knows how important it is.
With that in mind, Tang Changsheng grew solemn. "Who else knows about this?"
Clerk Song caught his meaning at once. Lowering his voice, he said, "A friend of mine is in charge of it. The Netherworld Office is in chaos now, and everyone who knew before, including the Warehouse Commissioner, has had their souls scattered. My friend was transferred to manage the storerooms afterward. He only noticed it by chance..."
Tang Changsheng