The silver-white moonlight spilled onto the ground, accompanied everywhere by the mournful chirping of crickets. The unique fragrance of the night hung heavy in the air, weaving itself into a soft net that draped over all scenery. Everything the eye touched was enveloped by this soft netting; every blade of grass, every single tree, lacked the stark reality of daylight. They possessed blurred, illusory hues, each concealing its finer details, preserving its secrets. At this moment, the clouds were low and heavy, making the starry sky appear exceptionally distant, and Xiushui Village was thus immersed in a dreamlike, ethereal tranquility.

Without lanterns to illuminate the way, the three figures had no choice but to tread upon the scattered moonlight, feeling their way through the darkness, following the general path toward home. Granny Fan was old, and her eyesight was failing; in these conditions, she was effectively blind. Indeed, after only a few steps, she tumbled down, landing flat on her face. Thankfully, the weather hadn't turned truly cold yet; otherwise, the clods of earth would have been frozen solid, and she would have surely cracked her head open. Seeing that this approach wouldn't work, Young Master Liu had Elder Tian clear the path ahead while he stayed behind, supporting Granny Fan as they cautiously descended the slope. They dared not move too quickly, fearful that Granny Fan couldn't bear the pace. Thus, they walked one step and stopped three, and by the time they finally cleared the mass grave area, they had lost track of how much time had passed. The wind at midnight was biting, seemingly piercing right to the bone, making everyone deeply uncomfortable. The three instinctively pulled their clothing tighter, tucking their hands into their sleeves. By the time they reached Little Mazzi’s house, it was nearly eleven o’clock. Villagers rose with the sun and rested when it set; most were likely already under their covers, enjoying their wives and consorting with the Duke of Zhou. However, Little Mazzi’s mother was somewhat alert and hadn't slept yet. She was sitting in the courtyard on a low stool, munching on homegrown dried pumpkin seeds, waiting with an anxious look. Only when she heard Granny Fan and the others knocking did her worry turn to joy, and she hurried excitedly to open the door.

“Wife of Chen, where is your old man?” Granny Fan asked, her aged face crinkling into a smile as she saw Little Mazzi’s mother open the door.

“That heartless wretch is probably still haggling over grain in town, completely disregarding the life and death of his own son!” Upon mentioning her husband, Little Mazzi’s mother’s anger flared instantly. She planted her hands on her hips and began to curse, “I sent word with the truck driver this afternoon to tell him, but I don’t know if he got the message.”

“Heh heh, you didn’t move those things I arranged earlier, did you?” Granny Fan stepped into the courtyard, though her gait was now uneven; it seemed she had twisted her ankle.

“No, no…” Little Mazzi’s mother waved her hands repeatedly. “My child’s survival now depends on you, Immortal Auntie; how would I dare touch your things?”

“That’s good then,” Granny Fan smiled. “We are neighbors, no need for formalities. This old one will do my best.”

“Then please come inside quickly! It’s cold out here.” Little Mazzi’s mother respectfully ushered Granny Fan into the house. Elder Tian and Young Master Liu followed her in, but Old Man Liu and Dog Egg’s father had already returned home earlier. After all, it was deep in the night, and a lone woman was keeping house; the gossip wouldn't be good.

Entering the main room, they discovered that the Eight Immortals Table, usually centered in the room, had been folded and tucked behind the door, clearing a large area. The four small stools that accompanied the table had also been moved to a corner, sitting forlornly there. In the empty space on the floor, a rectangular offering altar had been meticulously set up—a dark reddish-brown piece, nearly a meter tall. Its surface was finely polished, with delicately carved dragon and phoenix motifs at the seams. However, one corner on the left side was chipped, and the top surface bore several deep scratches, suggesting it was an ancient relic of some years. On either side of the altar, two white candles were lit. Beneath each flickering flame sat a small porcelain saucer, shallow with rounded edges, perfectly suited for scholars to grind ink for painting. In the countryside, however, these were more often used to hold pickles—just the right amount for one family’s serving of plain white rice, both economical and convenient. Looking closely, the left saucer held a thick, crimson paste of some sort, and they couldn't fathom what it was. The right saucer was far plainer, perfectly clear, obviously just plain water.

“Why are you standing around? Sit down!” Granny Fan pointed toward the stools in the corner, indicating that Elder Tian and the others should take a seat. Elder Tian nodded, went to fetch a stool, and sat down. Young Master Liu and Little Mazzi’s mother followed suit. Seeing Granny Fan’s stern demeanor, utterly devoid of a smile—as if everyone owed her tens of silver coins—they wondered what scheme she was brewing.

“The night wind is strong; close the door!” After carefully inspecting the altar, Granny Fan spoke slowly. Young Master Liu was about to rise when Elder Tian preempted him, firmly shutting the room door and even fastening the bolt. Having done this, he turned back to Granny Fan with a smile, “Immortal Auntie, is there anything else you need done?”

“Nothing more, thank you.” Granny Fan nodded, carefully pulling open the drawer of the altar and retrieving a very tightly bound package, layered and bundled like a tightly wrapped head of cabbage. Granny Fan held both sides of the parcel down with one hand while her other hand delicately undid the outermost slipknot. Her fingers spiraled around it several times before successfully removing that piece of cloth, but this was only the first layer. Granny Fan wiped some sweat and began untying the second restraint. Young Master Liu, meanwhile, felt a growing curiosity. What on earth required the old woman to pamper it as if it were more precious than her own father—no, more precious than her father! As he pondered this, Granny Fan’s hands never stopped. After repeating this careful process five or six times, the package, originally the size of a coconut, was now only slightly thicker than an ear of corn. After a few more minutes, the object finally revealed its true appearance: a completely black statue of a monk, perhaps only fifteen centimeters tall—a miniature, pocket-sized artifact. Yet, under the kerosene lamp's glow, the statue shone with an extraordinary brightness, refracting the light into countless fish-scale patterns that shimmered across its surface, quite beautiful to behold. Even stranger, Young Master Liu couldn't discern what material it was made from. If it were stone, it shouldn’t be so translucent that one could see the internal veins; if it were jade, in his dozen or so years, Young Master Liu had never heard of jade existing in this color.

Granny Fan held the monk statue devoutly in both hands and placed it carefully onto the lotus pedestal at the center of the altar. She lit three sticks of incense, bowed three times, and inserted the burning sandalwood sticks into the censer. Immediately, she narrowed her eyes to slits, pressed her palms together in a clear gesture of Buddhist worship, and repeatedly chanted, “Amitabha Buddha.” But what she muttered afterward, Liu Da Shao couldn't quite make out. It was just a mumbled, drawn-out drone, like an old woman rambling on the street—long, tedious, and enough to make one’s ears grow calluses. Of course, Young Master Liu would only learn years later that Granny Fan’s performance was not fabricated nonsense, but indeed the Buddhist scripture, the Ksitigarbha Sutra. Taking advantage of the time Granny Fan was solemnly chanting, Young Master Liu jumped down from the stool and began tilting his head to examine the monk statue. The monk had a round, cheerful face, but wasn’t fat; his ears were large and long, reaching down to his shoulders. He was draped in a kasaya, holding a vajra pestle, and riding an extremely ugly, strange beast with a single horn on its head. Was this the Tathagata Buddha? Or Maitreya Buddha? Young Master Liu blinked, shaking his head. The images he’d seen of the Tathagata showed him with curly hair, quite fashionable, while Maitreya looked like a grotesque pig’s head, so fat that three people couldn't encircle him. This monk was clearly not one of those two Buddhas. Sadly, since he only recognized these two famous Buddhist figures, his research yielded nothing, and he returned to his chair with a sense of disappointment.

After chanting the scripture for about half an hour, Granny Fan’s thin, wrinkled mouth, which resembled the endless Yellow River, finally ceased its motion. Seeing her white hair soaked with sweat at the temples, it was clear she was exhausted. Taking a deep breath—three breaths, one long and two short—Granny Fan slowly regained her energy. Nimbly, she reached into her pocket and spread out the three paper cranes she had taken from Young Master Liu before the statue, adjusting their angles so their beaks pointed toward a single spot, forming a triangular pattern. Then, she gently unfurled her right hand’s five fingers, dipped them into the saucer filled with clear water, and sprinkled some onto the paper cranes. In that instant, so fast it was almost unbelievable, a black liquid began to seep out from beneath the unremarkable lotus pedestal of the monk statue. The liquid then turned, turned again, and turned yet again, weaving itself by some inexplicable force into a circular arc outside the three paper cranes. Elder Tian was speechless, one hundred percent convinced. Young Master Liu, however, nearly dropped his jaw, finally managing to exclaim after a long pause, “Damn, that’s round, truly damn round!” What he said was absolutely true; the circle was so perfectly round that even a professional artist using tools might not achieve such an effect. It was a natural, fluid roundness that allowed no hint of flaw or error to be detected.

Granny Fan narrowed her eyes and swiftly grabbed a brush from the saucer, dipped it into the red cinnabar paste, and drew an additional circular pattern just outside the black circle. After finishing this, she finally set the brush down with a visible sense of relief:

“It is done. I have temporarily sealed one hun and one po of theirs. With the protection of Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva, there should be no serious mishap. The rest depends on their individual destinies,” Granny Fan said, taking a breath.

“Granny Fan, is this monk Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva?” Young Master Liu pointed at the statue and asked curiously.

“Yes, he is!” Granny Fan nodded and bowed again to the Buddha image. “If I do not enter hell, who will? Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva governs all affairs of the underworld, so naturally, I must ask for his help.”

“That doesn’t seem right?”

“What doesn’t seem right?” Granny Fan raised her eyebrows and turned around.

“It seems to me that what you used earlier in your ritual involved items belonging to Daoist priests. Why are you now bringing out monks and Bodhisattvas? Aren’t you afraid that if these two systems mix, they’ll start fighting each other?” Young Master Liu voiced his confusion.

“Heh heh.” Granny Fan understood what he meant, gently touched his forehead, and smiled slightly. “What you say is both right and wrong. If a monk were to worship the Daoist Trinity of the Three Pure Ones, or if a Daoist priest were to worship the Buddha Amitabha, that would be considered betraying one’s master and sect, and there would certainly be dire consequences. But this old woman is just a casual practitioner who dabbles in the yin and yang, belonging to no specific school. I only know some trivial little tricks. If the heavens are listening, and seeing that I have saved many people, they naturally won't hold it against me. Besides, whether a cat is black or white, if it catches mice, it’s a good cat! Understand?”

“There’s such a logic?” Young Master Liu was caught between laughter and tears.

“Of course there is, you just haven’t seen much,” she replied.

“Then, Granny, between the ways of Dao and the ways of Buddhism, which is more powerful?” Young Master Liu posed another question.

“That…” Granny Fan’s facial wrinkles moved as she appeared to ponder the issue. “I really haven’t considered that problem.”

“But I think they each have their merits! Daoist arts focus on offense, while Buddhist arts focus on defense. They are much like the difference between a spear and a shield; it’s hard to definitively say which is superior.” After pondering for a moment, Granny Fan offered an ambiguous answer.

“Right. Now that the souls of the three children have been stabilized, the next step is entering the Underworld. Success or failure hinges on this. However, if this old body goes down alone, I might not be able to manage everything properly, so I need an assistant.” Granny Fan stated.

Hearing this, Young Master Liu eagerly said to Granny Fan, “Granny, please take me down with you. I’m not afraid.”

Granny Fan shot him a disdainful look. “Do you think places like the Courts of Hell are spots where living people can wander in whenever they please?” Young Master Liu quickly asked, “Then what kind of person is allowed to go down?”

Granny Fan explained, “To enter the Courts of Hell or any part of the Underworld, only those with extremely robust yang energy can descend. If someone with weak yang energy is taken, they risk being entangled by wandering spirits and ghosts and might never be able to return. Moreover, they must possess yang within their yin and yin within their yang so that their Yin-Yang eyes can be temporarily opened to help them distinguish souls in the Underworld.”

“Granny, where should I look for someone with extremely robust yang energy?”

Granny Fan smiled and said, “Where to look? Look among your relatives and friends! If you bring someone who doesn't know these three children, it will be a wasted trip. Also, you must hurry home and start looking now. You have to bring the person you find here within three days.”

Young Master Liu asked Granny Fan, “Granny, why must it be within three days?”

Granny Fan asked, “Do you know what ‘fox odor’ is?”

Young Master Liu shook his head, looking at the old woman with a puzzled expression.

Granny Fan explained, “‘Fox odor’ is what the villagers call the stinking person. Legend says that long ago, a husband and wife loved each other deeply, but tragically, the husband died young. The wife could not bear to bury him and kept his corpse in their bed. Later, when the Underworld court reviewed the case, they discovered that the ghost official had arrested the wrong man. The King of Hell allowed the wrongly captured man to choose: return to the living world to continue his life, or take an official post in the underworld. The man chose to return to the living world to reunite with his wife. The King of Hell reluctantly let him go, and the day the man returned to the living was exactly the third day after his death. The resurrected man could finally be reunited with his wife. However, from that day on, the wife noticed that her husband constantly emitted the foul stench of a decaying corpse, no matter how much he washed. Later, the couple had children, but tragically, their children inherited this odor. This stench was passed down generation after generation, continuing to this day—what people call ‘fox odor.’ Later, the Underworld learned of this and established a rule: if a soul cannot return to the living world within three days of death, it can never go back.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is! There are so many complicated rules just to go to the Underworld. It seems hopeless!” Young Master Liu looked somewhat dejected.

“Mmm, nothing is ever that simple,” Granny Fan said with a smile. “Tonight won’t work. Keep a close watch tomorrow and try to find a child among those you know whose birth characters are strong and whose Five Elements include water of the Kui aspect. If you find one, that’s it. But if you truly cannot find anyone, time is running out. At the final moment, this old woman will have no choice but to reluctantly venture to the Underworld alone.” When she spoke these last few words, Granny Fan’s tone was resolute, without the slightest hesitation, an attitude that caused Elder Tian, who was observing secretly, to nod inwardly.

“You all go back to sleep! What are you doing, gathering around in a circle? This old one can watch things here alone,” Granny Fan said, glancing at the grandfather clock.

“Immortal Auntie Fan, I’m not sleepy. I’ll stay tonight! If anything happens, I can lend a hand!” Elder Tian forced a smile, but the yawn that immediately followed betrayed his deep sleepiness. After all, a whole day spent worrying, coupled with trekking back and forth between the Lingguan Temple and the mass grave, the dual torment of mind and body had worn down the middle-aged man significantly.

“Look at you, still trying to act tough when you’re like that? Go on, go! All of you go sleep! Wife of Chen, clear out a bed for me in the next room,” Granny Fan instructed.

Since she had said so, Elder Tian no longer insisted. He picked up a kerosene lamp and said, “Sister-in-law, the path is dark tonight. Please lend me your lamp, and I’ll return it to you tomorrow.”

“Take it, use it!” Little Mazzi’s mother smiled.

“Mmm,” Elder Tian nodded and called out to Young Master Liu, “Nephew, let’s go together. I’ll walk you home on the way; I’m worried about you being alone.”

“Well, alright then!” Young Master Liu looked reluctant. “I’ll come back tomorrow to check on Guoqiang and the others.”

“Granny Fan, I’ll go lay out your bedding first. I’ll use the best set—the one from my wedding,” Little Mazzi’s mother said, diligently rolling up her sleeves as she headed into her room to rummage through the cabinet.

Young Master Liu walked to the doorway, intending to glance back one last time at the three—Tian Guoqiang and the others—when he suddenly gasped, holding up a finger: “Granny, this is bad, look?”

“What is it?” Granny Fan started, following his gaze.

“Guoqiang, Guoqiang and the others are up!”

“Mmm?” Elder Tian turned his head upon hearing this, but the result was completely contrary to what Young Master Liu claimed. The three—Tian Guoqiang included—were clearly still sleeping soundly,