The merit of suppressing Soul Burial Plain was like a stone cast into the deep waters of the underworld, stirring ripples far wider than Su Yan and the others had expected. Not only had Black and White Wuchang changed their attitude toward them, but even some of the lower- and middle-ranking Ghost Officials in Fengdu City would politely nod in greeting when they saw them. The temporary title of "Assistant Patrol Envoy" had finally gained some real weight.
That day, while they were resting at the inn and studying their newly acquired abilities and supplies, Judge Cui Jue came to visit in person, bringing news that caught everyone off guard.
"Meng Po wishes to see you." Cui Jue was concise. His ancient, weathered face revealed little emotion, but the fact that he had personally come to deliver the message was enough to show how unusual this was.
"Meng Po?" Mo Hen blurted out. "You mean the senior at the Bridge of Helplessness... the one handing out soup?" An image of an old woman in an apron, busily brewing soup, instantly appeared in his mind.
Bai Zhi gently shook her head, reverence in her eyes. "Brother Mo Hen, mind your words. Meng Po is a revered deity of the Netherworld, wielding the authority of 'forgetting' and guiding countless souls onward. How could she be some ordinary old woman?"
Cui Jue glanced at them and said blandly, "Come with me, and you will see."
With a measure of curiosity and even more solemnity, they followed Cui Jue once more to the ancient stone bridge spanning the River of Forgetfulness, linking life, death, and reincarnation—the Bridge of Helplessness.
Contrary to their imagined scene of lost souls forming endless lines and wailing toward the heavens, the Bridge of Helplessness was shrouded in an unusual