Wang Yi recounted what had happened, and Li Ping'an nodded thoughtfully.
As a teacher, he could not stand idly by. So he asked Yuan San what sort of place the City of a Hundred Ghosts was.
Yuan San said that a hundred li away lay North Mang Mountain. It had originally been a mass grave, with most of the bones buried in gray earth, some missing limbs, others with their heads severed from their bodies.
On rainy nights, the cries of ghosts and howls of wolves rang out without end.
Thus, people rarely ventured into the mountains, and all manner of demons and ghosts haunted the wild, desolate hills.
With so many ghosts, they each claimed their own hill, frequently sparking conflicts.
A thousand years ago, a powerful ghost had emerged there, calling himself the Mangshan Ghost King.
He had united the demons and ghosts of North Mang Mountain and established the City of a Hundred Ghosts.
"If your companion was taken there, then he's most likely not going to survive," Yuan San said.
"We have to go and see, at least. That young Daoist is a good fellow," Wang Yi said gravely.
Yuan San said, "I remember the last time I went to the City of a Hundred Ghosts was two hundred years ago, just in time for the Old Ghost of Mangshan's birthday celebration. A few days ago, the Mangshan Ghost King even sent me an invitation to his wedding."
"His wedding?"
"I wonder who that Old Ghost of Mangshan is marrying," Yuan San said disdainfully. "After living all these years, has he finally begun to feel lonely?"
"Would you be interested in attending, Mountain Lord?" Li Ping'an asked.
Yuan San smiled. "I wasn't planning to go, but since you're going, Brother Li, I'll make the trip. It's