After Swapping Identities With My Archenemy - Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Ghost Script

Halfway there, her courage failed her, so she nudged Shen Wensi to the front. With Shen Wensi’s imposing aura and fearless demeanor, she looked remarkably reliable.

Shen Wensi, suddenly pushed forward, gave her a surprised glance. Jiang Huaiyi guiltily shifted her gaze, muttering a silent apology in her heart: Sorry, Daoist Shen, I’ll definitely make it up to you.

Shen Wensi didn’t resist. The two of them walked up to the sentries. The tall guard merely swept a glance over Shen Wensi before looking away; he didn’t even acknowledge a “shorty” like Jiang Huaiyi. For a moment, she had the fleeting illusion that she could simply sneak out by virtue of her height advantage.

That fantasy was short-lived. As they stepped a bit closer, a heavy iron chain rattled and swung out, barring their path. These guards were far less accommodating than the previous ones; clearly, the treatment for those who had paid and those who hadn’t was worlds apart.

Jiang Huaiyi recoiled instinctively, then remembered she was just here to ask for directions. She quickly straightened up. Peeking her head out from behind Shen Wensi, she chirped, “Big brothers, I’d like to ask—how does one get out of the city?”

The two guards moved sluggishly, as if only just noticing Jiang Huaiyi. They slowly tilted their heads down, their eyes scanning her. Their disdainful faces twisted into a strange expression as they let out a soft snort, then looked back up, completely ignoring the pair.

Jiang Huaiyi had a sudden flash of insight. She hurriedly pulled a few paper gold ingots from her bag and burned them. The paper ingots instantly transformed into shimmering, solid gold. They felt heavy and substantial in her hands. Amazed by the transformation, she toyed with them for a second before realizing two pairs of eyes were fixed intensely on her.

She stepped in front of Shen Wensi and respectfully offered the ingots with both hands. “My lords, this is a small token of my respect. Please, have some tea on me.”

The guards exchanged a look and took the ingots. Solid gold was far superior to the low-quality coins that commoners usually offered. The quality of this gold suggested it was brought down by someone who knew the trade.

Their attitude softened immediately. Though their voices remained gruff, they finally spoke: “You want to leave?”

Jiang Huaiyi nodded frantically. She glanced at the malevolent ghost still hanging from the wall, shuddered, and asked carefully, “As a newcomer, I don’t know the rules for leaving. I wouldn’t dream of forcing my way out and causing trouble for you two.”

Satisfied by her humble attitude and generous “tea money,” the guards spoke. “Leaving isn’t hard. You just need a Travel Permit. And of course, the ‘fire tribute’ is indispensable.”

Jiang Huaiyi felt a surge of hope. She took out two more ingots to keep the conversation going. “And where might one obtain this Travel Permit?”

The guards gave her a strange look as they pocketed the money. “You really are a new ghost. Head over that way to report in. See if the City God will let you pass.”

Once the questions were over and pleasantries exchanged, Jiang Huaiyi pulled Shen Wensi into a corner and spat on the ground. “Pah! Those two just pointed us toward the registration office. Once I’m on the official records, I’ll probably be stuck here forever. Taking my money and still trying to trick me… you really can only believe a third of what a ghost says.”

Shen Wensi stood with her arms crossed, staring in the direction the guards had pointed, deep in thought. Jiang Huaiyi moved to the city wall and began feeling the stones. Shen Wensi turned, confused. “What are you doing?”

“I was wondering if I could just use a Wall-Penetrating Spell to go through,” Jiang Huaiyi replied without looking back.

Shen Wensi: “…”

She hadn’t expected Jiang Huaiyi to suggest something so blunt. She quickly discouraged the impractical idea. “Do you have any idea how thick this wall is? This isn’t a thin iron door. What if you get stuck inside the wall?”

Jiang Huaiyi immediately cooled down. Wall-penetrating spells were useful in high-magic, high-danger environments, but she had heard of many practitioners who got stuck during training. If you were lucky, you were found; if not, you died inside and rotted. If this wall was several meters thick, she’d be dead the moment her momentum failed. It was too risky; she’d just been too anxious to find her Master.

She pulled her hand back, looking chastened. Shen Wensi added, “Besides, even if we get past the wall, remember the thick fog when we arrived? That’s a protective barrier between the Yin and Yang realms. Even if we leave the city, we still have to find a way through the mist.”

Jiang Huaiyi calmed down completely and nodded. They decided to head toward the “Subterranean City God” temple to look for a way to secure a permit or a method to bypass the mist. However, her expression remained worried and overcast.

“What did you see in your dream?” Shen Wensi asked. “To make you cough up blood from worry?”

Jiang Huaiyi remembered her frightening state earlier and looked guiltily at Shen Wensi’s blood-stained sleeve. “My Master is gone. I can’t find her anywhere. I can’t verify it here, so I need to get out, burn a proper signal, and ask the ‘people below’ to help me search.”

Shen Wensi’s eyes flickered as she looked at Jiang Huaiyi’s sorrowful face. Her mind was already racing with thoughts of calling the Bai Wu Chang (White Impermanence)—no one was more efficient at finding people in the underworld.

They walked for a while until they stood before a magnificent structure. It looked much like a City God temple from the real world, only more ancient and imposing. There was no scent of incense here. The underworld had many such administrative hubs; after the “reforms” below, it mirrored the bureaucratic systems of the living world, though this place felt archaic.

She saw “Ghost Runners” escorting wandering souls in and out. Some rebellious souls were lashed with whips until their spiritual forms began to fade. It looked authentic, but knowing it was an “imitation,” they remained cautious.

Seeing the various malevolent spirits, Jiang Huaiyi clenched her fists and backed away, trying to keep from screaming. The sight of severed limbs and mangled bodies made her skin crawl. Their own clean, vibrant clothes made them stand out like sore thumbs.

Jiang Huaiyi straightened her clothes and walked in with Shen Wensi. Shen Wensi remained unhurried, strolling into the yamen as if she were coming home. Inspired by her composure, Jiang Huaiyi straightened her back and bolstered her own courage.

However, their confidence faltered the moment they entered. Jiang Huaiyi saw a group of people being whipped until they were rolling on the floor. The towering halls and the dark, vast expanse of the lobby felt oppressive. It didn’t feel like a holy place of justice; it felt like a “desecrated temple” occupied by lonely ghosts.

Grabbing Shen Wensi’s sleeve, she whispered, “This place feels wrong. We need to be careful not to be discovered.”

The yamen here was almost a parody of an imperial court. There was even a plaque reading “A Clear Mirror Hanging High” (representing justice), which felt absurd in this context. There was a massive incense burner at the entrance, so large it would take five or six men to encircle it. But it held no incense.

Jiang Huaiyi watched as ghost runners threw people into the burner and began pounding them with pestles like they were grinding medicine. The victims shrieked for mercy, but what mercy is there for the dead?

Averted her eyes, she searched for information. They lowered their presence, and Jiang Huaiyi even cut a paper chain for Shen Wensi to hold, making them look like a guard and a prisoner. This clever disguise helped them avoid unwanted attention.

Shen Wensi, however, was not as cautious. She let out a soft snort. “A fake through and through. Not even close.”

Her voice was loud enough to make passersby look. Jiang Huaiyi nearly bit her tongue and reached out to cover Shen Wensi’s mouth. Fortunately, the spirits only glanced at them before moving on.

They reached a public notice board. Very few spirits were gathered here. The board stood quietly by a pillar a blue background with a red frame, covered in chaotic, squiggly characters. It looked like ancient oracle bone script mixed with modern symbols, written in a stiff, reversed style that was physically uncomfortable to look at.

Jiang Huaiyi studied it, her mind flipping through various languages. The characters felt familiar but remained indecipherable. She turned to Shen Wensi. “Can you read this?”

Shen Wensi nodded. She began to chant a series of long, stagnant syllables. It sounded like no language Jiang Huaiyi had ever heard; it was more like a primitive murmur—moans and nonsensical ramblings from the back of the throat.

Jiang Huaiyi was lost. Suddenly, the sound stopped. Shen Wensi’s face darkened with anger. “They dared to trap me!”

Before Jiang Huaiyi could react, an eerie voice echoed behind them a ghostly, ethereal tone that seemed to descend from the clouds and explode in her mind.

Jiang Huaiyi spun around. Standing behind them was a tall figure in a bright red official’s robe and a scholar’s hat. He looked dignified, handsome, and refined a true “Celestial” appearance. But it was precisely this “normalcy” that made him so terrifyingly out of place in this hellish environment.

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