Chapter 30: Lady of White Bones

During her days in the Mountain God Temple, countless envoys from the Underworld arrived to seize Wei Li and drag her back. She scarcely dared close her eyes, fearing that if she drifted off, she would awaken already returned to the Underworld—bed and all. Exhausted and wan, her dark circles nearly reaching her chin, Wei Li finally snapped when, during a rare moment of rest, a little ghost roused her. She seized the specter by the head and pummeled him mercilessly, venting all her pent-up frustrations. Leaning back in her chair, she eyed the battered, cowering ghost with sudden cheer and laughed, “You? Sent to capture me? If you haven’t the skills for fine china, don’t take on the job!”

“I—I—I’m not here to catch you!” the little ghost wailed, bursting into tears.

Wei Li paused in surprise, scrutinizing the little ghost more closely. He huddled in a corner, his thin body lacking the heavy aura of the dead. His eyes were bright and clear—he must have only recently become a ghost. “Then why are you here?” she asked.

Choking back sobs, he replied, “I’m just the messenger… waaah…” His grief grew, but he still remembered to pull a letter from his pocket and place it on the table before fleeing the temple, tears streaming down his face.

Wei Li coughed awkwardly, watching his retreating figure and wondering how a ghost could be even more hapless than the Snow Ghost. She picked up the letter, recognizing at once the familiar style—it matched the correspondence she’d received from Granny Meng. Clearly, the little ghost had been sent by Granny Meng, which explained his foolishness; a clever ghost would never have fallen for Granny Meng’s tricks.

The letter began with polite inquiries into Wei Li’s state, then described chaos in the Underworld: the demon Qianfan, sealed in the Eighteenth Level of Hell, had inexplicably broken free and vanished. Since then, the King of the Underworld’s temperament had grown tyrannical. Loyal ministers were executed, ancient alliances with the Buddhist order were shattered, and a lavish bounty was placed on Wei Li’s head. Granny Meng advised Wei Li to hide in her tomb until the turmoil passed.

Wei Li was utterly perplexed. Qianfan had been sealed in the Eighteenth Level of Hell by her grandfather when she was a child. Many suffered in that hellish prison, but the name Qianfan was deeply familiar to her—she had burned the Book of Life and Death. The Underworld was now overcrowded: ghosts outside could not enter, those inside could not leave, and no one knew whether to send them to reincarnation or leave them to suffer. Those days had been truly dark.

During her trial period, Wei Li had been dispatched by her grandfather to guard Qianfan. As she recalled, Qianfan was not a beautiful woman, but her presence was unparalleled. Wei Li once asked why she burned the Book of Life and Death; Qianfan’s reply was vague in her memory, but she remembered the utter desolation in her eyes.

Wei Li refused Granny Meng’s suggestion to hide and instead resolved to enter the Underworld and question her uncle—his drastic change was surely linked to Qianfan. Yet, even if his temperament had altered, she was his niece; surely he wouldn’t kill her. The Underworld, however, was heavily guarded. Last time, she had slipped in only by following the Snow Ghost; on her own, she stood no chance.

There was one other entrance: the Ghost Market. Deep within, a Lady of White Bones resided. For the right price, she could open the gate to the Underworld. Wealthy families often bribed her to summon the souls of their deceased loved ones.

When Moonward heard Wei Li intended to enter the Underworld, he insisted on accompanying her for protection. Wei Li was loath to bring him: first, his body survived only on incense offerings; second, she wanted him to stay behind and care for Guangzong. But Guangzong agreed that Moonward should accompany her for safety, and Moonward’s body had grown robust from the incense. Resigned, Wei Li agreed.

First, she led Moonward to her own tomb and gathered some gold and silver treasures from her burial trove. Moonward marveled, “With all this wealth, why do you spend your days working for that monk?”

“It’s a matter of playing hard to get,” Wei Li replied with a smile.

Wei Li exited the tomb, Moonward in tow, and the two hurried to the Ghost Market. Night was deep, the moon faint and stars sparse.

The Ghost Market, however, was ablaze with light—vivid, bustling, and in no way dilapidated. Shops of every kind lined the streets, thronged with crowds and brimming with business.

“Moonward, stay close!” Wei Li called, weaving swiftly through the throng. Fearing he’d be lost, she reached back for him—only to grasp empty air. Turning in surprise, she found no trace of Moonward. She pushed through the crowd, calling his name, but collided with a burly, rough-looking man. His mountaineering gear—pickaxe, ropes, mining lamp, and fireworks—betrayed him as a tomb raider. His face was familiar: years ago, this same man had tried to loot Wei Li’s own tomb, and she’d frightened him off by masquerading as a ghost. He had fled, terrified.

Wei Li ignored him and was about to continue her search when the tomb raider seized her, barking, “When did the Ghost Market start letting in brats like you?” He squinted, recognizing something familiar about her.

Clearly, the man held some influence in the Ghost Market. The noisy crowd fell instantly silent, watching with deference. Wei Li’s anxious expression softened into pitiful innocence. “I can’t find my family… Brother, please…” she whimpered, rubbing her eyes, feigning distress.

This was a direct hit to the tomb raider’s soft spot. He immediately released Wei Li, crouched down, and said gently, “Don’t worry, I’m here. I’ll help you find your family.”

Smiling slyly, Wei Li led the man toward the Lady of White Bones. As she expected, the road widened and the crowds thinned. Soon, the tomb raider grew suspicious—she’d claimed to seek her family, yet headed straight for the Lady of White Bones. Her residence wasn’t a house, but a sunken pit, bottomless and dark. Wei Li slipped from the man’s grasp and leapt down. As her calm face vanished into the depths, the tomb raider’s memory of that day in her tomb returned—cold sweat drenched him instantly.

The pit revealed a hidden world, lush with flowers, waters, and forest. Before her stood a dainty house with a small courtyard and two rooms. Wei Li entered, and the incongruous scent of osmanthus filled the air. “Is the Lady of White Bones in?” she called.

No answer. Instead, the wind rose, howling through the trees like wolves. Not far off, a scholar’s corpse floated in the river, and a woman in white dragged his body toward the center, struggling. Eventually, the current claimed him, and the woman watched, her eyes filled with greed or perhaps confusion.

She turned to shore, but stumbling over stones, she fell into the water. Yet she simply lay there, unmoving. Curious, Wei Li approached—was she dead?

Suddenly, the woman sat up, wiped water from her face, and wept uncontrollably. Wei Li watched, unmoved. After a long time, the woman’s tears dried. She walked to a nearby tree and discovered a tightly wrapped infant. Cradling the baby, she murmured something Wei Li could not hear.

“Does the Lady of White Bones go through this performance for every traveler to the Underworld?” Wei Li asked.

The woman’s gentleness vanished. The child in her arms became a skeleton, and the landscape faded to bare white bones. The Lady of White Bones gazed at Wei Li, her eyes cold and expressionless. “How dull,” she said.

Wei Li emptied her pockets of gold and silver and placed them before the Lady of White Bones. “I beg you, open the gate to the Underworld.”

The Lady of White Bones glanced at the treasures and with a wave of her hand, they turned to dust. “For the Little King of Hell herself, I wouldn’t accept mere trinkets.”

Wei Li raised an eyebrow. “What do you want, then?”

“Do you know why I am the Lady of White Bones?” Her cold eyes flickered, a storm brewing in their depths.

“Everyone knows the tale: you were betrayed by a faithless lover, left with such resentment that you became a skeleton spirit, haunting this place…”

The Lady of White Bones appeared before Wei Li in a blink, pressing her finger to Wei Li’s lips, silencing her. “No. I am imprisoned here.”

Wei Li suddenly noticed binding talismans at the woman’s hands and feet. Reaching out, she saw the spells were fused into the Lady’s very flesh. “What happened?”

“Yes, I slaughtered an entire village. I have suffered torment in this bone-laden purgatory for countless years. I know my wrongs—but why, why won’t they let me go? Little King of Hell, help me!” The Lady of White Bones fell to her knees, her face contorted in sorrow.

“Karma must run its course. This is the fruit you must taste,” Wei Li said coolly. Only the most monstrous criminals or born calamities received such bindings, sentenced to eternal imprisonment, unable to harm others. The woman before her must be even more malicious than she appeared. Wei Li, no paragon herself, would never unleash such a scourge upon the world.

“It’s not fair! Why must I bear his sins? For centuries, I’ve prayed sincerely—why won’t they release me?”

Tears streamed down her face, glistening like dew on her pale cheeks. Wei Li’s expression only grew colder. “Will you open the gate yourself, or must I kill you and open it myself?”