“If you want to blame someone, blame yourself for dying at the wrong time.”
Wei Xunzhou looked at the half-bag of wheat grains without saying a word. He simply tied the bag shut and hung it on the armrest of the lounge chair.
Di Yao had given the wheat grains to Wei Xunzhou partly to curry favor, and compared to the three hundred dan of grain she owed, this small amount was merely a drop in the bucket. So she decided to offer it as a gift, hoping that maybe these grains could help bridge the distance between her and Wei Xunzhou. That would be good for her.
She told Wei Xunzhou everything she had learned about the Underworld from Liu Heng, wanting to see what he thought. After all, Wei Xunzhou didn't like her, so he should want to reincarnate as soon as possible, just like she did. That way, he could get rid of her, and she could get what she wanted—two different paths leading to the same goal. They would make good allies.
But to her surprise, Wei Xunzhou showed no surprise at the Underworld's peculiarities. He only said, “Then we'll just have to wait slowly.”
“Husband... aren't you worried at all?”
“What's the use of worrying?” Wei Xunzhou toyed with the book, the bamboo slips clattering softly.
“But we can't just do nothing, can we?” Di Yao sat down, resting her chin on her hands, her voice a bit muffled.
“I don't know about you, husband, but I know I still have three hundred dan of grain and a thousand taels of gold to earn. Otherwise, I'll have to stay here as a ghost for over thirty years—twice as long as my mortal life! I want to be human, not a female ghost.”
On one hand, the mortal world was much livelier than this desolate place. On the other, Di Yao felt she didn't belong here. Everything at home was already provided; she just had to live there, doing nothing all day, unable to do what she wanted. But Di Yao was the type who couldn't sit still and was always impatient. Living like this was worse than death.
According to her original plan, she would spend every day eating and earning money—eat six or seven meals a day, then find seven or eight jobs to earn money. That kind of life had purpose.
But now? She just had to endure slowly?
“Whether you act or not, the result is the same. Why rush?” Wei Xunzhou was clearly losing patience. He reached up and rubbed his sore neck.
Di Yao caught his tone and didn't agree. “I know you're trying to comfort me, husband, but I can't stay idle.”
Since she had nothing better to do, she wanted to persuade Wei Xunzhou to stop being so passive. But after just a few words, she saw the impatience on his face, his deep brows turning sharp and filled with endless coldness.
Di Yao felt that Wei Xunzhou's patience was truly running out, but she was frustrated and needed to vent. However, she didn't dare to argue with him. What if they fought? She couldn't be sure if he would hit her.
Wei Xunzhou was about to get up and go inside, but before he could move, the “frostbitten pink eggplant” in front of him suddenly stood up from the stool, leaving it wobbling back and forth.
Wei Xunzhou raised an eyebrow and looked up at Di Yao, but didn't see any anger on her face.
“Husband, I'm going out for a while. If I'm late, don't wait for me.”
Then, the peach-red figure hurried out of the yard.
Di Yao found her way to Naihe Bridge by memory and spotted Meng Po at a stall under the bridge.
Meng Po was very kind and approachable. Di Yao was unfamiliar with the place and couldn't think of anyone else to turn to for help.
After Meng Po finished her work, Di Yao approached her and called out warmly, “Hello, Granny Meng.”
Meng Po recognized Di Yao after a moment—she remembered the girl's face.
“So you've gone to Wrongful Death City, miss?” Meng Po wiped her hands on her coarse apron and handed Di Yao a stool.
“I did. With nothing to do, I took a stroll. You know, Granny, since we don't need to eat or drink, there's much less to do all day.”
Meng Po nodded and asked like an elder, “Are you getting used to living here, miss?”
Di Yao shook her head honestly. “Not really.”
Recalling Di Yao's stubbornness from the day before when she tried to force her way across Naihe Bridge, Meng Po joked, “Still want to cross the bridge, miss?”
Di Yao glanced at the faint barrier on the bridge. “Of course, but you know I can't. Judge Cui said yesterday that my lifespan hasn't ended yet.”
After chatting with Meng Po for a while, Di Yao felt it was time to get to the point. She thought for a moment and spoke, “Granny, I heard that ghosts here don't need to eat. But what about high-ranking divine officials like you and Judge Cui? You must need to eat, right?”
“Haha, after so long, even this old woman almost forgot she's a deity. Miss Yao'er is quite knowledgeable.”
Di Yao wasn't entirely sure, but she figured that those who govern the ghosts of the world must be deities. Looks like she guessed right. She felt pleased.
“But it seems your understanding isn't complete.”
“How so?”
“We deities have already achieved Bigu—abstinence from grains. We don't need to eat either.”
Di Yao was stunned. The small flame of hope that had just ignited was extinguished again.
Seeing Di Yao's dejected expression, Meng Po was about to comfort her when a new batch of ghosts arrived at the stall, preparing to cross the bridge. She got up to serve them Meng Po Soup.
Di Yao stepped in to help hand out the brew. They worked well together and soon finished the rush.
“Thank you, Miss Yao'er. From what you said earlier, it seems you've run into some trouble?”
“Do you remember, Granny, what Judge Cui said yesterday about needing to eat a lot of grain and earn a lot of money to reincarnate early?”
Meng Po picked up a bowl of Meng Po Soup and drank it down in one go, making Di Yao's eyes go wide.
Meng Po smacked her lips and rolled her cloudy eyes, recalling. “I do remember something like that.”
“You heard me just now. I can't find any food in Wrongful Death City—not even a sip of water. That Judge Cui was tricking me! What he said is impossible. The only thing I can do is stay here for thirty years. So why did he give me hope?”
Meng Po patted Di Yao's hand soothingly. “Here's the thing, miss. In the old days, if someone whose lifespan hadn't ended accidentally entered the Underworld, the Judgment Division could send them back to the mortal world.”
Di Yao's eyes lit up like a firecracker. She stomped her foot excitedly. “So that's possible!”
Meng Po quickly pressed Di Yao's shoulder down and continued. “But that was decades ago. It's not allowed now. Once you enter the Underworld, your mortal body is considered dead, and you can't go back.”
“Why!” Di Yao's mood swung drastically.
“Alas, it's orders from above. That's all I know. I can't help you with the food, miss, but if you still want to earn money, you can work here for me. This old goddess still has some divine salary.”
“Really?” Di Yao's almond-shaped eyes sparkled, bright and lively.