Chapter 62

The copper coin went dry. Xun Ruosu flicked her fingers a few more times, pinching the air. “This person’s age… ten?… hundred?… He wants to draw the heavenly thunder toward the sluice gate. To stop the heavenly thunder from destroying the sluice gate, we’d have to…”

Xun Ruosu’s words came out haltingly. What she was divining now was no ordinary person. An ordinary person’s future could be divided into parts that could be changed and parts that could not—generally, the outcome was fixed, but the process could be altered. But if the other party also possessed divination abilities, then everything was changeable. It was merely a question of difficulty. This divination held far too many possibilities.

Even if Xun Jian had been present today, she might not have been able to achieve this level of precision.

Neither Xun Ruosu nor Xue Tong knew much about Clear Canal County. The two of them had lived in the city for years—one had only returned to the old residence a few days ago, while the other wandered the country aimlessly. Clear Canal County had a few safe houses, but they rarely visited.

Zhong Li, however, had been born and raised here. As a playful girl in her early teens, her family had often taken her along on missions to “exorcise demons and protect the righteous.” She knew every inch of Clear Canal County like the back of her hand.

The moment Xun Ruosu finished speaking, Zhong Li sensed that something was terribly wrong. Her upper and lower lips trembled as she said, “Clear Canal County used to be a primary flood discharge point during plum rain season. They built a dam and sluice gate upstream. Back in school, our teacher explained that as the economy grew, Clear Canal County became one of the nation’s top one hundred counties. They avoid flooding here whenever possible to prevent massive losses, so they constructed a diversion channel linked to the main flood outlet, bypassing the area entirely.”

Zhong Li had always been an excellent student, and she loved the teacher’s random tangents about local trivia and odd tales, so the details had stuck with her.

Summers brought heavy rains, and though it wasn’t constant downpours these past couple of days, storms rolled in every few hours with flashes of lightning and peals of thunder. They had entered plum rain season. Clear Canal County’s terrain was low-lying, and multiple upstream waterways would burst their banks during flood season. The dams held them at bay. If someone truly drew heavenly thunder to blast open the sluice gate, at least three or four villages would flood directly.

And with no warning? How many people could escape in the remaining hours?

This person hiding in the shadows was no match for the heavenly thunder that struck down fierce ghosts, so he was trying to implicate the innocent. Naturally, there would be soft-hearted fools eager to intervene.

It wasn’t just the soft-hearted ones. Even Xue Tong, who couldn’t care less about human lives, had no choice but to get involved. If the dam was damaged, hundreds or thousands of souls would scatter loose all at once. In the end, it would be their own people slaving away to clean up the mess.

The fifth heavenly thunder gathered momentum, roiling within the clouds. At the same time, the cloud layer amassed a hefty load of rainwater, a vast black mass pressing down from overhead. Xun Ruosu asked, “Where is Clear Canal County’s dam?”

“East of Soaring Firmament Mountain. It’s a two-hour drive right now.”

Zhong Li realized the urgency too. She reached out to Xun Ruosu. “Give me your phone.” She quickly pulled up a location pin and handed it back. “Hurry! If the floodwaters come, my home will be wiped out too.”

Only two people could go. Huang Xiaoran needed someone watching her side. Xue Tong quickly thought of her cheapskate big brother and plucked three hairs from her head, burning them clean. Jiang Changting had been unceremoniously dragged over, still clutching a sheet of paper and a pen. That paper was for a trial judgment—he’d just written the words but hadn’t signed it yet.

“…”

They had parted only the previous evening, and Jiang Changting never imagined he’d see Xue Tong again so soon, with zero warning. He was secretly relieved he wasn’t in the middle of stripping down for a shower, or the scene would have been mortifying.

“Someone’s trying to lure thunder to blow up the dam. I’m heading out with Xun Ruosu to check it. Just cleanup left here—mind watching things?” Xue Tong didn’t waste words, briefing him on the situation in two sentences. “How’s your talk with the person in charge going? I need to borrow a police car later.”

Jiang Changting reacted swiftly. Though he’d only been standing there for a couple of minutes, he’d already processed the flood of information. “I can make another call, no problem… We’ll talk about everything else when you get back.”

Xue Tong gave a slight nod and left the little tiled room without hesitation.

A few minutes earlier, Xun Ruosu had already set out ahead. By now, she was at the roadside, negotiating with the people in a police car. They received a phone call, and by the time Xue Tong arrived, Xun Ruosu was already in the driver’s seat.

She might humbly claim her “five limbs were indolent,” but Xun Ruosu had been taking care of herself for years, with five years of driving experience under her belt. By comparison, Yan Qing—the guy who had just gotten his license—was still a total rookie.

With green lights all the way, the siren blaring, and a provincial road incident diverting traffic, they made it smoothly and shaved off nearly half an hour.

The fifth heavenly thunder had already struck, turning the heavens and earth stark white. But it split into two locations, halving its power. The dam seemed to be holding for now.

Thanks to infrastructure and technological progress, or else people like Xue Tong—who maintained order—would be overwhelmed every single day.

A half-strength thunderbolt could be resisted, but a full one? Even the sturdiest dam’s surrounding facilities wouldn’t hold: short circuits everywhere, power outages cascading. And then another bolt… A couple more at most, and the dam would be reduced to rubble.

Xun Ruosu drove like a woman possessed. The staff on duty at the sluice gate had received advance warning. That last thunder had been deafening; even the boldest among them felt a chill of fear. This time, Xue Tong went ahead to speak with them, while Xun Ruosu stayed in the office, instructing everyone, “No matter what happens later, lock the duty room door tight. Don’t come out, and don’t peek out of curiosity.”

To be extra safe, Xun Ruosu pasted several sheets of talisman paper on the door, muttering incantations. She also gave each person a copper coin. “Throw this if you have to.”

Xue Tong didn’t climb the dam. A massive downpour raged outside, whipped by gale-force winds and constant lightning. No one was allowed up there anyway.

According to Xun Ruosu’s divination, the old man she’d glimpsed was elderly and lived in constant darkness, his skin ghostly pale. He couldn’t stand the light of day, so he wouldn’t be boldly lurking around the dam itself. He was likely somewhere upstream, but not too far.

The upstream side of the dam was a dense forest, undeveloped but heavily logged during construction. Saplings had been replanted afterward. From afar, Xue Tong spotted a masked figure holding an umbrella right in the middle of the young trees.

The mask covering his face depicted a blue-faced fanged ghost, resembling the Japanese Hannya— the image often used in ancient texts and temples to symbolize sin and resentment. And the umbrella in his hand was no ordinary rain gear.

Its black canopy was embroidered with lines of Sanskrit script along the ribs, gleaming with a metallic luster even in the rain, unyielding to the downpour. The interior was lined with what looked like talisman paper, but the material was special—not true paper, but strips of daisy-yellow nylon fabric, each bearing unique patterns.

Xue Tong was never without her umbrella, but she’d left it behind this time and endured the wind and rain. Until Xun Ruosu caught up from behind and unfurled a daisy-yellow little umbrella over her head.

Xun Ruosu explained, “Borrowed it from the staff. Most of them didn’t bring one. I picked through them—this was the only usable one.”

“…”

Never mind the rest—that daisy yellow was eye-searingly bright. Compared to the figure before them, one looked like a boss on patrol, the other like a kindergartener off to school.

Though his face was completely obscured, Xun Ruosu recognized him from his hairstyle and the back of the hand gripping the umbrella. “It should be the old man I saw in Zhong Li’s dream.”

“Xun… Ruosu.”

The moment he spoke, Xun Ruosu was even more certain.

His voice was hoarse and low, slightly lisping, the pronunciation thick and muddled—but clear enough.

He first called out Xun Ruosu’s name. Then, like some pervert, he reached out and traced her figure through the empty air. “You’ve grown so big already.”

Xue Tong: “…”

Got a knife? I’ll chop off his paw.

Those with names on the roster in Yama’s Palace were acutely sensitive to matters of life and death. This man radiated a heavy aura of death, but he was undeniably alive—his three souls and seven po intact and whole.

By now, the fifth heavenly thunder had subsided, and the sixth hadn’t arrived yet. Only the raging storm surrounded them, the sky hanging oppressively low and pitch-black. Xue Tong extended one hand from under the umbrella and caught a falling raindrop. The descent of the heavenly thunder had slowed.

“I severed ties with the Xun Family years ago,” he said. “I learned from an old friend that Xun Jian had used three souls and seven po as the price to forcibly keep a person whose lifespan had ended in the mortal world. I oversee reincarnation. Such disruption of the natural order was a direct insult and contempt toward me. Simply cutting ties and going a century without contact was already me showing mercy.”

As Xue Tong flicked the rainwater from her hand, a strange, indescribable scent lingered—like rotting wood or withered flowers.

This bit of history involved Xun Ruosu directly. She had survived thanks to Xun Jian’s “outrageous insult” to Xue Tong. Yet Xue Tong had always treated her well regarding the matter, never bringing up whether it was right or wrong to tether those whose time had come to the world outside reincarnation. Thinking back, this was the first time Xue Tong had spoken of it so plainly.

The umbrella-wielding masked man watched Xue Tong quietly. He faced her, his entire body language directed at her… but Xun Ruosu had the distinct feeling that the eyes hidden behind the mask were fixed dead on her.

Xue Tong’s voice continued to ring out. “And the reason I cut ties with your Zhong Family is precisely this. It’s just that Xun Jian still considered my feelings, placing the lives of her descendants in my hands to see if I’d spare them. But your Zhong Family has always been arrogant. When you decide to push the boundaries of the Rules, you show no mercy at all, excluding me entirely.”

Xue Tong oversaw reincarnation—or, to be more precise, whether they were surnamed Xun or Zhong, they were all her subordinates. The Zhong Family claimed their ancestor was “Zhong Kui,” but that was nothing more than an unverified legend. As such, Xue Tong held absolute authority over them.

Put simply: Xue Tong came first, then the Rules.

Thus, a mere “break in ties” might sound mild, even a bit theatrical, but for these families tasked with soul exorcism, losing her protection was fatal—like fledglings forced from the nest or ancient trees torn root from root. Malicious ghosts and fierce ghosts could harass them without restraint at any moment.

Even so, as Xue Tong herself had said, it was an act of mercy on her part.