Netherworld Investigator

Chapter 311



Chapter 311

We jumped up nervously, but the musical notes rang once and stopped completely, sounding as if they came from the front door.

When we ran to investigate the situation, we were greeted by Zhang Jiulin and Pockmark Li who carried a big plastic bag and a handmade xun. The music had obviously originated from the man. As it turned out, Pockmark Li had left the compound to purchase some materials, and afraid he would lose his way, Jiu-ge went out to meet him.

"I’m sorry if I scared you,” laughed Pockmark Li. “I was just testing if this thing works."

"Pockmark Li, are you looking to die?!” Xiaotao rebuked, eyebrows arched. “There are a bunch of snipers lying in wait in the watchtowers. You were this close to losing your life to a single shot, got that?"

Pockmark Li turned ashen with fear despite Xiaotao’s obvious bluff. In truth, the SWAT team wasn’t in place yet.

Zhang Jiulin had purchased an odd combination of materials meant for setting up an array in the compound. This time, he swore he wouldn’t let the murderer slip through his fingers. He requested the snipers hold off until the critical moment.

They immediately got down to business, setting up an array that I couldn’t comprehend with the number of xuns all around the periphery.

"Put this on!" ordered Zhang Jiulin as he threw me a bag.

I removed the contents from the bag–a purple Southern Song Dynasty official’s uniform. "Are you kidding?” I retorted. “I’m not an traditional costume lover."

"Do I look like I’m joking?” said Zhang Jiulin. “I’m asking you to dress up as Magistrate Song Ci to lure the evil spirit from the Heartbroken Xun. This is tantamount to dealing with the fundamental problem so the power of the Yin object will be greatly reduced."

My cheeks colored with shame. Many of the officers here were people I personally knew and worked with. Such an embarrassing chapter would certainly be taken as a laughing matter by these men.

"Do I really have to?" I prevaricated.

"This is the most effective option,” he explained. “If you’re not willing to cooperate, then there’s no hope of subduing the Heartbroken Xun."

"Will Song Yang’s life be in danger?" asked Xiaotao.

"If it were someone else, I wouldn’t be able to guarantee his safety. But Song Yang will definitely be alright,” Zhang Jiulin replied with great certainty. “He has an extraordinary Yang constitution and has inherited Song Ci’s bloodline, thus, bearing an imposing spirit of righteousness! Ordinary evil spirits wouldn’t dare touch him. More importantly, he’s still a virgin."

Turning red like an overripe tomato, I felt the urge to swear. Xiaotao covered her mouth and chuckled, "Song Yang, please cooperate. I would like to see how you look in an ancient costume."

"Stop laughing!" I said.

I found an empty place where I could change into the costume. Ancient clothing was rather complicated and took a lot of effort to wear. From head to foot, I had a futou, an official’s robes and black boots made from cloth. During the Song Dynasty, the officials’ robes were relatively simple without any mandarin squares which were large badges of the qilin, python, or the crane embroidered on the torso part of the garment. Instead, an official’s rank was distinguished by color. Song Ci attained Standard Class Rank Two when he became Deputy Minister of Justice in his lifetime. The details were accurate, but there was a lack of certain small ornaments such as the fish tally.

When I came out decked from head to toe, Xiaotao exclaimed, "God, you’re handsome!"

"Don’t tease me!" I blushed.

“This little thing is really fun,” Xiaotao giggled, playing with the wing-like flaps on the futou.

"What impudence, insolent troublemaker!" I roared.

"Not bad! Your performance is pretty lifelike,” she chuckled. “If we get the chance, we have to do an ancient costume cosplay."

"My wife works at a film and television company,” Zhang Jiulin chimed in. “If you’re interested in trying on an Emperor’s robes, I can pull some strings."

Xiaotao asked what the little wings on my futou were and whether they were a symbol of rank. Seeing that Zhang Jiulin was still preparing for our showdown with the murderer, I taught Xiaotao a little more about our history. Back when Zhao Kuangyin first became Emperor, his civil and military officials were buddies he had fought side-by-side in the war. They were rooted in their casual manners, even whispering amongst themselves and speaking impolitely in court. Angered by the fact, Zhao Kuangyin wanted to retaliate so he added a pair of little wings to the officials’ futou. Thus, anyone who turned his head would clearly be noticed so no one dared to whisper in the court thereafter.

"You know so much," praised Xiaotao.

Soon, the SWAT team arrived and Xiaotao deployed them to their positions. They mobilized snipers to the commanding heights around the compound, ready to ambush the murderer. Zhang Jiulin snapped his fingers and instructed me to stand on the training grounds, facing the open front door. I was supposed to wait for our “guests” while the others were ordered not to show themselves.

"There’s so many of us. Will he really come?" I asked doubtfully.

"I placed a talisman that will conceal the Yang energy so he won’t feel the breath of the living,” said Zhang Jiulin.

"What should I say later?" I asked.

"Improvise!"

Wang Yuanchao turned off the lights as everyone took their places. I stood alone in the middle of the training grounds for half an hour, my legs almost numb. Right then, a sudden gust of cold wind swept the grounds, immediately alerting me to danger. The snipers on the watchtowers opened their bolts and waited for orders.

I stared nervously at the door, too anxious to utter a word. As the minutes went by, a strong gale sent sand and stones flying, momentarily blurring my vision. I subconsciously shielded my eyes with my hands, and when I finally removed them, I saw an ancient man in prison uniform standing before me. His emaciated body was stained with blood, his expression grim and vicious.

"Song Ci, it’s you!” he shouted venomously. “I, Qiu Er, have been looking for you all this time. I’ll make you pay with your life today!"

"Qiu Er?" The name struck a chord–it was mentioned in The Chronicles of Grand Magistrates! This man was the most ruthless opponent Song Ci had ever encountered in his life, also Song Ci’s most formidable enemy.

Was the xun created from his skull?

"What impudence, Qiu Er!” I yelled. “Back then, I sentenced you to justice, yet here you are, wrecking havoc and taking lives!"

“I’m now a ghost king!” Qiu Er threw his head back in sinister laughter. “What can you do to me? It’s time to end our thousand-year vendetta! One of us must die today!"

With that, his skin suddenly festered before my eyes, more blood soaking his clothes as he pounced in my direction. I took a step back in horror but Zhang Jiulin shouted, "Don’t move!"

A green glow radiated from Zhang Jiulin’s Ghost-Slaying Daggers, forcing Qiu Er backwards. Zhang Jiulin leaped into the air with a dagger in each hand, commencing the fierce confrontation with Qiu Er whose nails had grown long and sharp.

The two clashed, unleashing a series of onslaught. I watched this scene with amazement at man vs ghost. Was there anything stranger in this world?

I scanned the area, gaze falling upon the stunned snipers on the watchtower who were so unnerved they couldn’t fire.

The duel stretched for a considerable amount of time when Qiu Er suddenly shrank, transforming into a young man holding the Heartbroken Xun. He placed the xun against his lips and blew and the surrounding xun began playing at the same time.

A burst of sonic booms originated from the Heartbroken Xun, shaking the earth, almost throwing us off our feet. Fortunately, the array Zhang Jiulin had prepared managed to reign in its strength.

Zhang Jiulin stood in the middle of the array, swaying from the vibrations in the ground as he spat out blood. Worried for his safety, I shouted, "Shoot!"

“No!” Zhang Jiulin bellowed, his mouth full of blood.

“Shoot!” I insisted.

"I SAID NO!!" came Zhang Jiulin’s anxious roar.

The snipers had all been dizzied by the quake. Right then, a clear and crisp gunshot shattered the night sky. I turned around to see Wang Yuanchao standing there, his sniper rifle smoking at the muzzle.

The young man staggered and slowly fell to the ground along with the Heartbroken Xun. Calm prevailed once more...


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