Chapter 1: Working My Life Away for the King of Hell
“Bonds of past lives come to this one, debts of this life are repaid in the next. If destiny brings us back together, we shall walk hand-in-hand before the Hall of Yan Wang.”
Tonight was the fifteenth day of the seventh lunar month, the Ghost Festival. The three hands of the watch suddenly froze at the twelve o’clock position. The “tick-tock, tick-tock” rhythm came to an abrupt halt, falling into a dead silence.
For miles around, the hills were crowded with burial mounds. Gravestones lay scattered in every direction—some upright, others fallen and broken on the ground. Under the shroud of the night mist, the place felt bone-chillingly eerie, swept by gusts of freezing wind.
A youth knelt with one leg tucked under him in a corner of the graveyard. Before a stone monument, he lit three sticks of Soul-Summoning Incense, though the tips were pointed downward.
He swallowed hard, his cold sweat pouring down as he repeated the incantation from a moment ago.
Dammit, why did he have to play Truth or Dare with his roommates on a sudden impulse? More importantly, why hadn’t he just chosen “Truth” straight away!
Now he was in for it. The “Dare” had turned into a death trap. He hadn’t played enough with people, yet here he was, playing with ghosts…
Hidden behind a tombstone, a camera sat ready, poised to record this thrilling and terrifying moment.
“Why hasn’t it come yet? Ghost Brother, please just come! I need to finish this task so I can go home…” The youth’s eyes were tightly shut as he whispered. His voice was so faint it seemed as though the next gust of wind would blow it away.
Perhaps in response to his prayer, the cold wind that had been howling wildly just a moment ago suddenly died down.
The surroundings fell into a deathly stillness. Even the trees and wild grass stopped moving. The air grew thin, and the only sound left was the frantic thumping of his own heart.
From out of nowhere, a thick black mist drifted in, carrying a faint, lingering scent of ambergris—it smelled like sweet, damp earth.
It wasn’t just any earthy smell; it was that specific scent of soil being drenched by the first drops of rain.
Within the mist, everything was a chaotic void. The distant houses and hills looked as though they had been draped in a translucent veil.
The fog grew heavier, first drifting in wisps before flowing in thick clouds, turning the earth into a blurred, dark expanse.
The youth’s vision was completely obstructed by the mist, making it feel as though the entire world had shrunk to the space right in front of him.
Sensing that something was terribly wrong, he gripped a yellow talisman between two fingers and squinted. In the distance, a red glow appeared—a faint light shining through the haze.
Steeling his nerves, the youth walked toward it. The talisman in his hand grew increasingly hot. Through the blur, he caught sight of a figure as elegant as a bamboo stalk, draped in a cold-toned black robe and wearing a ceremonial crown.
“Hey, are you a person or a ghost?”
The moment the words left his mouth, the figure flicked a sleeve, sending a powerful blast of yin wind straight into the youth’s chest.
His feet lost their footing, his head spun, and the yellow talisman fell to the ground. His mind was left with only a single, external perception.
He kept falling and falling, never hitting the ground. In his ears, he heard world-shaking screams, like the collective weeping of ten thousand ghosts.
A voice—solemn, ethereal, and freezing—issued a judgment from above:
“If your karmic hindrances remain unpurged, you shall descend into Hell for three lifetimes and seven incarnations.”
Yangcheng, Yihe Apartments.
Jiang Louqi bolted upright, drenched in sweat after being jolted awake by the nightmare. He clutched his chest, his heart still hammering with lingering fear.
How could he have a nightmare on his very first night in this crappy apartment? And of all things, he had dreamed of that death-defying ghost-summoning stunt from junior high. If it hadn’t been for this sudden dream, he would have forgotten that whole mess long ago.
It was strange, though. He had inexplicably passed out right after seeing that figure.
Later, he heard from Grandpa Jiang that he had been lying stiff and motionless in the graveyard, his limbs ice-cold. Sending him to the hospital for an IV drip hadn’t helped at all; he had remained unconscious for three days and nights.
It was only thanks to Grandpa Jiang carrying him back to the graveyard to perform a soul-calling ritual that he finally managed to save his little life.
Yet, Jiang Louqi couldn’t remember anything that happened that night. The hidden camera had long since been ruined, leaving behind not a single scrap of useful footage.
“Sigh… forget it, forget it. Time to brush my teeth!”
He rubbed his face vigorously and pressed down the alarm clock on his bedside table before it could ring.
His oversized slippers went pa-ta, pa-ta against the floor as Jiang Louqi walked straight into the bathroom. Through bleary eyes, he searched through a pile of body wash and shampoo bottles to find the toothpaste. He unscrewed the cap and began squeezing desperately from the bottom.
That tube of Darlie toothpaste was already crumpled into a ball, with almost nothing left inside. It wouldn’t spit out even a tiny bit.
His handsome brows furrowed as he tossed it into the nearby trash can. It looked like it was time to buy a new one…
Jiang Louqi slowly turned on the faucet and rinsed his toothbrush.
After only a few seconds of rinsing, he quickly turned it off, shook the water from the brush, and finished brushing his teeth and washing his face at lightning speed. He then took a squeegee and wiped down the mist-covered mirror.
The mirror was wiped spotless, reflecting a face that was lazy yet rakishly handsome, with a touch of charming arrogance. His features were refined and deep, and a dazzling black crystal stud sparkled in his left ear.
The man in the mirror possessed a pair of affectionate peach-blossom eyes that looked perpetually half-drunk—a blurred, seductive gaze that felt like a vortex capable of sucking in one’s soul, giving off a hazy and wondrous feeling.
Though he appeared unrestrained and heartless on the outside—like a bit of a “bad boy” rogue—the inadvertent sharp glint in his eyes warned others not to underestimate him.
“Ahem, being handsome is enough.”
A shallow curve appeared at the corner of Jiang Louqi’s lips, revealing a faint, fleeting dimple that exuded a playful, wicked aura.
He stripped off the cheap pajamas he had scored for ten-odd yuan on Taobao and took out an expensive windbreaker uniform from the closet.
This had been a coming-of-age gift from Grandpa Jiang before he passed away. Jiang Louqi had always cherished it, too reluctant to wear it.
Now that the man was gone and the house was empty, he could only look at the object to remember the person, soothing the longing in his heart.
Jiang Louqi was also quite an unlucky one. His mother had suffered a major hemorrhage while giving birth to him and died during the difficult labor. His father had rushed from work to the hospital to be with her, only to be struck by an out-of-control truck. The two vehicles collided head-on, and he was killed instantly.
Since he could remember, only the busy Grandpa Jiang had looked after him. The roles that should have been played by his parents had exited the stage early.
Perhaps because he had never seen his parents while growing up, even looking at them through photos felt very foreign. There was no sense of the intimacy of being flesh and blood, and he couldn’t explain why.
Jiang Louqi felt neither sorrow nor joy; he didn’t have many feelings about it at all.
However, Old Man Jiang hadn’t been so simple. He had operated an SNE Special Agency (Supernatural Events).
The Jiang family had been in the business of the dead for generations, frequently dealing with spirits. They acted on behalf of vengeful souls whose obsessions were too deep to move on to reincarnation, earning them the name “Soul Solvers” (those who resolve supernatural incidents).
He had also heard from Grandpa Jiang that the top boss of the SNE Special Agency was the Lord of the Underworld (the head of the Ten Kings of Hell).
The Jiang family had only one son per generation, and for generations, they had been forced into the service of the King of Hell, acting as Soul Solvers in the human realm.
Now, the burden of the successor had fallen onto his shoulders. Grandpa Jiang had taken him along for training in the past, and Jiang Louqi seemed to be a natural for this line of work. His innate talent allowed him to handle matters with ease.
There were pros and cons, though. The Underworld paid a regular salary every month, and if his performance was good, there was even a year-end bonus.
Whatever. It was just a job anyway. Whether the clients were people or ghosts didn’t matter. For the sake of that year-end bonus, Jiang Louqi neatly donned his windbreaker and rubbed his palms together, eager to start.
He was determined to work hard and show respect for his leadership. If he could even manage to become “sworn brothers” with the Lord of the Underworld, that wouldn’t be so bad either…
Pah, pah, pah. Jiang Louqi reached out and felt his forehead, which was at a normal temperature. What on earth was he thinking?
What kind of status did the Lord of the Underworld have? He was the head of all evil ghosts. He probably wouldn’t even catch a glimpse of the man’s pant leg in this life, the next life, or the life after that.
The man picked up his motorcycle keys from the coffee table, tightened his collar, locked the door, and headed down from the apartment.
Jiang Louqi strode into the downstairs parking lot, where his precious Kawasaki Ninja 400 was parked.
He was a man who didn’t care about much; he wouldn’t even buy new toothpaste when he ran out, yet he would buy a motorcycle worth tens or even hundreds of thousands of yuan without a second thought. The old man had scolded him for it, but the money was all extra cash he had earned himself over the years by checking feng shui for people; he hadn’t used a single cent of Grandpa Jiang’s.
After all, who didn’t have a motorcycle dream? Driving this out would guarantee a high head-turn rate and look incredibly cool—beauties and handsome guys would all be within his reach.
Jiang Louqi put on his helmet and protective gear, gave a simple greeting to the security guard at the gate, and rode onto the highway.
The light of the rising sun was soft and not at all piercing. A gentle breeze brushed against his face, making him feel refreshed.
He made several turns, terrified of scratching his bike, until he finally found the all-too-familiar No. 14 Bei’an Street among the many streets and alleys. Two more turns and he would reach the agency.
The past few weeks had been spent handling Old Man Jiang’s funeral, so the SNE Special Agency had been closed for quite some time. The keypad lock was covered in a layer of dust.
Jiang Louqi sighed helplessly. He removed the “Closed” sign from the door, patted the dust off the lock, and after inputting his fingerprint, the door swung open.
The agency was quiet and lonely. It only had two floors, plus a front desk and a kitchen. The ground floor was generally used for receiving clients, while the second floor served as the office.
The furnishings inside were quite simple, but when it came to the talismans and tools used to deal with ghosts, not a single one was missing.
Translator’s Note:
Hi everyone! This is the start of a brand new adventure with Jiang Louqi.
- Ghost Festival (七月十五): Also known as the Zhongyuan Festival. It’s the day when the gates of hell open, and spirits roam the human world. Definitely not the best time to be playing Truth or Dare in a graveyard!
- Yan Wang (阎王): The King of Hell. In Chinese mythology, he oversees the Underworld and judges the souls of the dead. Our protagonist seems to have a very… corporate view of him already.
- Ambergris (龙涎香): Literally “Dragon’s Saliva Fragrance.” It’s a very rare and precious scent, often associated with high status or spiritual entities in these novels.
- Yangcheng (阳城): A fictional city name, but literally means “City of Yang/Sun,” which is a nice contrast to the Underworld (Yin) themes.
Welcome to this new read!
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