Chapter Forty-One: Searching for the Living Among Shadows — The Gate of the City of Unjust Death

Perhaps it was because he had been so exhausted last night, or maybe because he had been invaded by the yin energy throughout the evening, but Lin Ran slept exceptionally deeply today. When he awoke, it was already past seven in the evening; he had slept for more than ten hours. His head felt heavy, likely from sleeping so soundly. Lin Ran rubbed his temples, then made his way to the bathroom, turned on the tap, and splashed cold water onto his face, which finally brought him a measure of clarity. After tidying himself up, he headed outside.

Stepping onto the street, Lin Ran was astonished to see crowds bustling about, cars streaming by, brilliant lights illuminating the night, and an atmosphere of lively prosperity—so unlike the deathly silence of the previous night. Walking along the avenue, Lin Ran passed his hands over his eyes; instantly, his gaze darkened, the whites of his eyes vanished, replaced entirely by black. The ghost eyes were open. He looked around, and the scenery transformed: the brilliant towers disappeared, replaced by majestic, classical palaces—jade pavilions and immortal halls—with not a single light emanating from them. Lin Ran surveyed the scene with surprise; this ghost city was intriguing indeed, a place where yin and yang coexisted yet remained distinct, a marvel of the world.

Retracting the ghost eyes, Lin Ran ate a simple meal to maintain his strength. After all, the ghost eyes were far too shocking for ordinary people; no normal person’s eyes were wholly black. Time slipped by, and soon it was nine o’clock—by then, not a single shadow remained on the street, as if everyone had silently agreed to vanish at this hour.

Lin Ran had not been idle during this time; he had already prepared everything he needed. Glutinous rice and donkey hoof were packed into a small bag slung over his back, and his mourning staff was tucked at his waist. With all this done, Lin Ran solemnly removed from the inner pocket of his shirt a string of golden bells and a black cloth pouch. Though called a string, it was merely a red cord threaded with two bells the size of ox eyes. They appeared unremarkable, but Lin Ran handled them with utmost care, as though they were priceless treasures.

The Record of Yin and Yang states: The Soul-Summoning Bell, an artifact of the underworld, can seek out the lost, guide the way, capture living souls. The red cord is soaked in human blood. Once shaken, it leads the way; twice, it captures souls; thrice, it severs all bonds.

The mourning staff and the Soul-Summoning Bell were Lin Ran’s two greatest assets, the reason he dared enter the ghost city alone. Unlike the staff, the Soul-Summoning Bell was invisible and inaudible to the living, save for those on the brink of death—hence why Fan Beixiao and Guo Ting had not noticed it.

Lin Ran carefully opened the cloth pouch, revealing a lock of woman's hair within—Guo Ting’s hair. He tied it to the red cord of the Soul-Summoning Bell, then gently shook the bells.

A clear, melodious ringing echoed through the surroundings, lingering in the air. Lin Ran, his eyes jet-black, suddenly raised his head and gazed in one direction; from afar, a faint bell sound returned to him, quiet but distinct.

A thrill of joy surged in Lin Ran’s chest—there was a response! Guo Ting’s living soul was truly here. But his delight quickly faded, for the sound came from the very center of the ghost city. Guo Ting had not died; why then was her living soul within the City of Wrongful Death?

With no time to hesitate, Lin Ran stowed the bell and hurried in that direction. He ran for several kilometers, and from a distance, he caught a vague outline—a hulking presence, like a primordial beast sleeping in silence. The distance prevented him from seeing clearly.

Lin Ran did not pause for even a moment, sprinting at full speed, drawing ever closer; as he neared, buildings beside him gradually lit up one by one.

When he finally stood before the colossal entity, Lin Ran stopped and stared in silence, shaken to his core. Before him was an enormous city, its perimeter shrouded in deathly energy. The towering walls rose tens of meters high, with a massive gate at their center—about ten meters tall and seven or eight meters wide. Above the gate, carved directly into the stone, were three large characters: City of Wrongful Death.

At this moment, Lin Ran’s heart was roiling like a stormy sea. He had never imagined that such a city was hidden within the ghost city, and that it was the infamous City of Wrongful Death that caused all mountain folk to tremble in fear. Only now did Lin Ran truly grasp the peril lurking here, and understand the meaning of the phrase from the Record of Yin and Yang: a single misstep leads to eternal damnation.

Looking upon this City of Wrongful Death, Lin Ran realized he had underestimated the mysterious figure. For someone to send a living soul into the city, their abilities must be extraordinary. If a living person enters the City of Wrongful Death, survival is nearly impossible; the city permits entry but not exit. That mysterious figure intended to trap him here—if Lin Ran managed to escape alive, he would still pay a heavy price.