Mo Lin's expression grew solemn, his face devoid of the slightest smile.
"Do you bear a grudge against the people of the Ziwu Palace?" Zhuge Mingyue asked, her tone full of confusion.
"Rather than a grudge, it would be more accurate to call it an entanglement," Mo Lin answered slowly.
The old crones colluded with the malevolent spirits of the Ghost Domain to target the ghost envoys — that was the root of the enmity.
Mo Lin had long been puzzled: how could the ghosts of the Ghost Domain locate every single ghost envoy so easily? Now, the answer had surfaced.
It was the doing of the ghost crones.
And by "ghost crone," Mo Lin did not refer solely to the one from Yunchuan — he meant those scattered across every city district.
Though it was unlikely that every crone had conspired with the Ghost Domain, a vast majority had ties to them.
Of course, this was merely Mo Lin's own deduction; it had yet to be confirmed.
Zhuge Mingyue studied Mo Lin's robes for a long while before finally voicing her bewilderment.
"How is it that you are a Yin Division official?"
She truly could not fathom how a living man could become a being of the underworld.
"Can you stop being so nosy?" Mo Lin retorted with a hint of irritation.
"I'm just curious," Zhuge Mingyue said gently.
As they spoke, they arrived at their destination.
Throughout the journey, Li Xue had led the way for Mo Lin.
The Ziwu Palace was located in the outskirts — a wooden structure built in the style of a traditional Chinese courtyard house.
A red-stringed bell hung at the entrance.
Mo Lin stepped down from the car.
"Clang, clang, clang..."
The moment he alighted, the bell began to ring wildly, triggering a chain reaction.
From within the courtyard came the echoing of more bells.
In the stillness of the night, the clamorous chimes grated on the nerves.
Yet there was no other movement, as if the house were utterly deserted.
Mo Lin stepped forward, intent on forcing the door open, but before he could touch it, the doors creaked apart on their own.
Lowering his gaze, he saw a little girl standing there.
She wore a grayish-white coat, her hair hanging loose about her shoulders. Her small, delicate face suggested she was no older than ten.
At the sight of Mo Lin, she stumbled back a few steps and fled.
Zhuge Mingyue closely followed behind Mo Lin.
Upon stepping into the courtyard, a palpable chill washed over them.
All around, straw effigies had been erected, their blank faces lending the place a ghastly, oppressive atmosphere.
Then, something even more uncanny happened.
The paper figures seemed to come to life, drifting slowly toward Mo Lin as if drawn by an invisible force, blocking his path.
There were at least thirty of them — men and women alike.
Mo Lin made no move to resist; he merely stood there.
Time dragged on.
Still, the paper figures showed no intention of making way.
"Clear the path," Mo Lin ordered coolly.
At once, Li Xue swung his black blade and charged into the throng, carving a path for Mo Lin.
Mo Lin entered the main hall.
An old woman sat there, hunched with age, her hair entirely white and tied up in a knot. She lit three sticks of incense and placed them solemnly in a bronze burner.
Upon seeing Mo Lin, she began to mutter.
"Some time ago, I heard that a Yin Division official had crossed into the world of the living... yet no matter how I divined, I could not find his whereabouts."
"I never imagined that the Yin official would turn out to be a living man... how curious."
She could divine the fate of the dead — but the living were beyond her reach.
The little girl who had opened the door now cowered behind the old woman.
At the entrance, Li Xue finished clearing the paper figures and followed Mo Lin inside.
Zhuge Mingyue, however, lingered in the courtyard. She felt it safer not to enter, uncertain of what might transpire within.
"Shall I question you, or will you confess on your own?" Mo Lin asked coldly, his gaze sharp.
The old crone, upon seeing Li Xue, understood immediately.
A Yin Division official, accompanied by a ghost envoy — they were clearly here to seek retribution.
"Ask what you will," she said, settling heavily into a chair.
"You colluded with the ghosts of the Ghost Domain to capture Li Xue?"
"Yes," the old woman answered, her voice slow but firm.
Since Mo Lin had already found her, there was no point in denying it.
"Which ghost did you conspire with? What is its name?" Mo Lin pressed. He wasn't merely here for vengeance — he wanted information about the Ghost Domain.
The old crone fell silent, her gaze shifting past Mo Lin's shoulder.
Behind him, without him even noticing, shadows had gathered — a dense mass of ghostly figures.
Not just behind him — the entire courtyard had filled with them.
Though low-level, their sheer number was overwhelming: over a hundred ghosts.
With a glance, Mo Lin could tell most of them hailed from the Ghost Domain — their auras were unmistakably vicious.
"Bing Yu," Mo Lin called softly.
At once, Bing Yu's figure materialized behind him.
She made no effort to conceal her presence — the oppressive aura of a nightmare-class ghost suffused the air.
From the courtyard, Zhuge Mingyue gasped in horror, "Nightmare-class..."
This was already the second nightmare-class ghost she had seen under Mo Lin's command.
His strength far surpassed her imagination.
"Master, your command?" Bing Yu asked respectfully.
"Clear them out."
"Yes."
Bing Yu's form expanded, surging into the mass of ghosts. With a casual swipe, she seized a spirit and tore it apart effortlessly. Then another, and another — a one-sided massacre.
At that moment, two more ghostly figures emerged from the front of the hall.
Both were disheveled, their auras no weaker than Bing Yu's.
Two more nightmare-class ghosts.
The instant they stirred, Mo Lin raised his blue longsword before him, drawing it slowly.
With a single, indifferent glance at the two ghosts, he made no further move.
Yet they froze in place.
Not unwilling to move — but too terrified to.
One wrong move, and death was certain.
The disparity in strength was glaringly evident.
Mo Lin was not some ordinary ghost envoy; he was a Yin Division official.
To confront him would require ghosts of the "great ghost" rank from the Ghost Domain — and even then, only the most formidable among them would stand a chance.
Within a minute, the courtyard had been cleansed.
Not a single ghost remained.
The old woman's wrinkled face remained impassive, as if she had witnessed nothing.
At last, she spoke.
"I do not know how your underworld classifies power, but that ghost's strength is equal to yours," she said slowly. "In the realm of the living, it would be called 'calamity-level.'"
Nightmare-level was fifth rank, lethal-level sixth, and calamity-level seventh.
This revelation stunned Mo Lin.
As a Yin Division official, the ghostly beings he faced were of the calamity level.
He had not expected the Ghost Domain to dispatch such powerful entities to the world of the living.
Things were becoming troublesome.
"You once belonged to the lineage of Yetou. Why, then, are you so deeply entwined with the Ghost Domain?" Mo Lin asked coldly.
The ghost crones had originally been the agents of Yetou in the mortal realm.
By rights, they should have stood united against the Ghost Domain — not allied with it.