At dawn, I had already packed some clothes into a large bag, with my machete and bow also stowed inside. Today was the day John Chou was supposed to come, and for some reason, I felt a trace of fear in my heart.
When I returned home earlier, my dad had made it clear to me: the ghost aura I burned before wasn’t John Chou’s, but rather the yin energy that had naturally gathered and transformed.
I understood this well—places haunted by ghosts are always thick with yin energy. What surprised me was that John Chou’s ghost aura was so strong, it could directly convert the gathered yin energy into ghost aura near his body. So everything I’d seen before was just an illusion.
“Sigh, I wonder where that guy’s going to take me! Doesn’t even give me a heads-up.”
I muttered to myself, just as the door was knocked.
“Roxie, hurry up and eat breakfast so you can set off. Go straight to the bus station, then take the bus on this route to the harbor district.”
I looked at my mom in confusion. To the east, there was a small city near the sea. I swallowed hard.
“Are we heading out to sea?”
“John Chou already came by early this morning. He wants you to go on your own—he’ll be waiting for you over there.”
I responded with a simple “oh,” pursing my lips. I could fly straight there, but the distance was too great for my current strength to handle. I hadn’t traveled far in a long time. I remembered going with Vivian Ouyang to the eastern island for a vacation ages ago—those memories still lingered fondly.
Just thinking of Vivian Ouyang made me feel a pang of sadness. I hadn’t seen her in ages. They say she’s been used as a medium for the Nightmare Ghost Sovereign, always under control. There’s nothing I can do about it now. As much as I want to see her and talk, it’s basically impossible. But after this trip, I plan to ask Dream Ouyang to let me spend a few days with Vivian.
After breakfast, I hailed a cab straight to the bus terminal. It didn’t take long, and I’d already bought my ticket online.
I’d arrive at the harbor district around 4 p.m. today. My mind was restless—I didn’t know why. Maybe it really had been too long since I’d gone out, or maybe it was those bleak, cheerless days lately.
Last night, my dad warned me about a lot of things. He told me not to force anything, and if I couldn’t win, I had to protect myself above all. After all, John Chou hadn’t said a word about this trip—he just wanted me to help him find the Hundred Ghosts.
I’d seen the Hundred Ghosts of Redhair and Berziran, and I’d witnessed Yunmei’s as well. But John Chou’s Hundred Ghosts were different. I didn’t know what had happened before, but it seemed his Hundred Ghosts had already disbanded. Why bring them back now? I was puzzled.
“That guy’s not the type to ask for help.”
I muttered again, then closed my eyes, planning to rest. The roads were badly jammed that morning.
By nine o’clock, I was on a coach bus, eyes closed and trying to get some real rest. I wouldn’t have dared do this before—back then, there were still plenty of ghosts in the living world. But since Ethan Zhang helped clear out a bunch of evil spirits last time, there were far fewer ghosts in H City now.
The journey went smoothly. When the sunlight faded, I arrived at the harbor district—a city packed with people. I looked around, planning to wander for a while, get dinner, and then find John Chou.
“Let’s go!”
Just as I was about to start shopping, I jumped in fright—John Chou’s voice came from behind me. I turned around, looking at him with some annoyance.
After a while, I bought a bunch of things on the street and arrived at the dock. A small yacht was already moored at the harbor, and John Chou was at the helm, ready to set sail.
“Let’s wait until tomorrow morning to head out.”
“Are you afraid of the dark?”
I shook my head and stepped aboard. The yacht sped up at full throttle. I didn’t know where John Chou planned to take me, but I knew we were headed out to sea—probably to some small island.
“Can you tell me what exactly we’re looking for?”
I asked, but John Chou said nothing, his full attention fixed on the darkening sea ahead. I sat in the cabin, chewing on dry rations I really didn’t want to eat.
Soon I sighed, maybe just to spite John Chou. Normally, this sort of thing wouldn’t bother me, but for some reason, I just didn’t want to listen to him.
“Did your parents say anything to you after you got home?”
I grunted in response.
“They just told me the ghost aura I burned wasn’t yours.”
“Do you really hate me?”
John Chou suddenly asked, catching me off guard. I was about to shake my head but ended up staring blankly at him.
“Yes.”
John Chou let out a cold laugh.
“Good. Rachel Lan, do you really understand ghosts?”
I wanted to answer that I’d been dealing with ghosts my whole life, of course I understood them—but then I just shook my head.
“If there’s anything you don’t know, just ask. I’ll explain it to you.”
I sat in silence, my mind in a mess. For some reason, I was sure that after this journey, I’d be transformed. Only this Ghost Sovereign before me could teach me so much. Ethan Zhang’s power had grown rapidly, all thanks to John Chou’s guidance—both openly and in secret. I knew that much.
Every time I saw Ethan Zhang, he’d changed dramatically, which always surprised me. As for myself, I was still the same as ever—even in the darkness, I hadn’t changed much. I’d learned a few things, but compared to Ethan Zhang, I was still far behind.
“You and Ethan Zhang are completely different types—there’s no need to compare yourself to him. His growth comes from deep-rooted beliefs, or you could say, from working much harder than most people. But you’re different, Rachel Lan. You have a natural foundation and a clever mind.”
(Irrelevant system message, skip translation.)
John Chou’s words left me stunned—I didn’t know how to reply.
“If you don’t know what to say, just listen to me.”
I shot John Chou a glare. He seemed to know exactly what I was thinking.
“In your world of the arts, ghosts are generally divided into Gray Hearts, White Shirts, Yellow Pages, Black Shadows, and Fierce Ghosts, all the way up to the ultimate Dread Green Ghosts.”
I nodded. My father had taught me these distinctions since I was a child, over and over again. I’d learned to recognize ghosts, though I’d never seen a Dread Green Ghost before. They only started appearing after the Seven Ghost Sovereigns emerged one by one.
My father often told me that great power attracts even greater power. Maybe that’s just how it is.
“But I can tell you precisely—ghosts are actually divided into three stages. You might have misunderstood. Now you need to overturn your old beliefs, because those ancient traditions are just superficial. When it comes to actual differentiation, there’s a qualitative difference.”
John Chou began to explain.
The six levels of ghosts I was familiar with were really just based on the strength of their ghost aura. But ghosts gain power from negative emotions, so in truth, there are only three grades: upper, middle, and lower.
John Chou’s so-called upper, middle, and lower grades refer to the quality of a ghost’s ghost aura. Lower-grade ghosts have very sparse ghost aura, which can be easily burned by powers from the arts. There are many of these ghosts—even some Dread Green Ghosts can’t improve their ghost aura and are easily hurt by practitioners.
But middle-grade ghosts are different—their ghost aura isn’t affected by powers from the living world. When I heard this, I started to understand.
“So the ghosts that can come out in broad daylight without relying on ghost aura to resist the power of the living world—those are middle-grade ghosts?”
As soon as I finished, John Chou’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“See, you really are smart.”
For some reason, my mood suddenly improved. John Chou started talking again.
The ghost aura produced by upper, middle, and lower-grade ghosts is completely different in quality. Most middle-grade ghosts don’t fear the powers of the arts—it’s like electricity meeting a highly resistant material, very hard to conduct. Ordinary techniques are useless against ghosts at this stage.
I swallowed hard. No wonder so many ghosts I’d encountered were like that—my techniques didn’t work at all, and it was hard to break through. Even if I managed to burn them, they’d recover quickly.
“The only way to break through a ghost like that is to use ten times or even more ordinary power against their ghost aura. Because the quality of their ghost aura is completely different from low-grade ghosts. When ghost aura reaches a certain level, it’s no longer afraid of powers from the arts. Do you know why?”
I looked at John Chou in confusion, starting to think. He didn’t answer directly, as if he wanted me to figure it out myself. I fell into deep thought. Unconsciously, the sky had turned gray, and the boat kept speeding ahead.
I quietly recalled everything from the past, and something clicked in my mind.
“I get it—it’s the Ghost Soul.”
My eyes widened—the answer was obvious now. John Chou burst out laughing again.
“I know the Founding Emperors are incredibly strong, but their teaching methods really are weak!”
I smiled awkwardly. It was true—just like John Chou said, I found most of what they taught hard to understand, and I couldn’t put it into practice.