"Long time no see, Lord Shenyan."
I swallowed hard. The man before me was an Enforcer, dressed in an orange-red official robe, his eyes sharp as lightning. He wore his hair long, his face clean and looking to be in his forties. His cheeks were broad, his chin jutting out, and his nose was large. He spoke with a booming voice, giving the impression of a forthright character.
"Lucas Dao, how did you know I was coming down? And although this place is technically part of the Underworld Court, it’s a barren wasteland. How did you notice me so quickly?"
Lucas Dao laughed heartily and pointed at Lord Shenyan, his gaze drifting toward Lord Shenyan’s chest.
"Nathan Chung, you’d better keep your aura hidden. Many in the Underworld Court may not know your whereabouts, but I, Lucas Dao, am well aware."
A peculiar aura suddenly burst out from Lord Shenyan. Instantly, Lucas Dao raised a token in his hand, a flash of red light swept across, and I stared in amazement as everything around us changed completely.
Drip, drip—the sound of running water. A small stream flowed nearby, a waterwheel churning steadily. The riverbank was lush with green, rows of peach trees lined up neatly, a red bridge arched over the water, and beside it stood a small pavilion. Peach blossoms drifted gently in the air, carrying a strange, intoxicating fragrance. I licked my lips, noticing a large jar had just been opened, its aroma of wine filling the air.
"Please."
Lucas Dao extended his hand. Lord Shenyan and I drifted over, and three wine bowls floated to rest before us.
Lucas Dao seemed genuinely pleased. He and Lord Shenyan clearly shared a deep friendship. Wine slowly streamed from the jar, transforming into three flowing currents that poured into our bowls.
"Please, this is aged wine."
Even without Lucas Dao saying so, I could smell it. It had been a long time since I’d encountered such a rich, fragrant wine. Lucas Dao looked at me, as if studying the blood-red tear streaks on my cheek.
"It’s been ages since you’ve tasted wine, hasn’t it? I’ll get a few dishes—wait here, both of you."
Lord Shenyan nodded, a rare smile tugging at his lips. In my memory, among the seven Ghost Sovereigns, Lord Shenyan was the most upright—usually stern and reserved, sometimes even cold.
"How long has it been since you tasted wine or meat? And what about your interest in women—how long has it been since you felt anything?"
I let out a sound of surprise, having just sipped the wine—almost spitting it out. Embarrassed, I glanced at Lord Shenyan. He rested his chin in his hand, smiling at me.
Food and drink were easy enough to talk about, but as for that other topic, I found it hard to speak.
"I’m already a ghost—it doesn’t matter anymore."
"Is that so!"
Lord Shenyan muttered something, and suddenly I caught a whiff of fragrance, unable to stop myself from swallowing.
Plates of fragrant dishes floated over, landing one by one on the table. Lord Shenyan, without hesitation, grabbed a pair of flying chopsticks and picked up a steaming plate of chicken from the center, eating heartily.
I couldn’t hold back any longer—my mouth was watering. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d tasted food. I picked up a piece and put it in my mouth. The flavor was strange and cold, and I chewed noisily. But seeing Lord Shenyan enjoying it, I could only echo him, saying it was delicious.
Only the wine tasted truly good. I downed three large bowls in a row, my head starting to swim. Lucas Dao returned.
"Are the dishes to your liking?"
"Your cooking has improved, Lucas Dao."
Lucas Dao clasped his hands together in salute.
"You flatter me."
Now Lucas Dao and Lord Shenyan both looked at me.
"Does it not suit your taste?"
I quickly shook my head.
"It’s just that I haven’t eaten in so long, so maybe I’m not used to it anymore."
Lucas Dao made a sound of acknowledgment, took a sip of wine, and asked:
"How long has it been? This feeling—food without flavor, unable to smell anything, even your interest in women fading—how long has it been?"
I sputtered, wine spraying from my mouth onto the food. I apologized immediately, but Lord Shenyan and Lucas Dao didn’t seem to mind. They kept eating, though their eyes showed concern as they looked at me. I swallowed, took another drink, but suddenly the wine tasted like water—bland and flavorless, even its aroma gone. The food’s taste had vanished too.
"Is there something wrong with me?"
At first, when Lord Shenyan brought up these topics, I felt embarrassed. But now with Lucas Dao saying the same, I realized it had truly been ages since I’d eaten or drunk anything with flavor. My nose could barely smell anymore.
My perception was growing stronger, but my interest in women seemed to have vanished. Back in the Netherworld, living under the same roof with Rachel Lan and Lily Wu, I felt nothing at all.
"Have you ever seen a ghost turn to stone?"
Lucas Dao asked, and I nodded.
"I saw it in the Graveyard Desert—some of the round stones there were once ghosts."
Lucas Dao laughed heartily and nodded.
"Brother Zhang, ghosts are transformed from humans, and even after death, they retain their habits from life. You must have seen many ghosts—some love to gamble, some are lustful, some love to eat and drink. It’s perfectly normal. That’s why there are so many ghost markets in the living world: even after death, they can indulge in food, drink, and pleasure."
Listening to Lucas Dao, I realized I had indeed encountered these types of ghosts before.
"True sorrow brings tears. Are you truly sad, Ethan Zhang?"
Lord Shenyan took a sip of wine, looked at me seriously. I touched the tear streak on my left cheek, unsure how to answer. It had been ages since I’d cried, but thinking back, I’d seen Ji Yuner cry, Ouyang Meng cry, even Uncle Zhuang shed tears. I seemed abnormal.
"This is Soul Mourning Syndrome."
I stared at Lord Shenyan, not quite understanding. He continued to explain.
"I heard you entered the core of the ritual array and witnessed a series of events with the array spirit. Did you miss anything?"
I shook my head.
"That’s right. Your current body may be a ghost, but because you still have thought, you haven’t died completely or turned to stone. But perhaps you haven’t realized—your heart is already a fractured stone."
I stared wide-eyed at Lord Shenyan.
"What’s really going on? Or, if this continues, what will happen to me?"
Lucas Dao chuckled and spoke:
"In other words, the reason you can still move is likely due to instinct. Your human form hasn’t collapsed, but you’ve already lost your heart."
"My heart?"
I looked down at my chest, dazed, recalling everything that had happened along the way. All my actions had followed the will of Ethan Zhang, yet now I stared at my hands, feeling strangely unfamiliar. Was I really myself?
"Ghosts are transformed from humans. If a ghost suffers deep internal wounds, or even after death continues to live in pain, resentment, and endless sorrow, the end result is that their heart turns to stone and, eventually, their body does too."
Immediately, I thought of the Forest of Desire.
"It’s somewhat similar to the Forest of Desire, but not quite the same. Brother Zhang, maybe the reason you can still act is out of responsibility?"
My head buzzed. After entering the core of the ritual array, everything I saw—my child with Rachel Lan, my feelings toward him were cold. Rachel Lan, now nearly forty, I felt nothing for her either, like wood. I gripped my chest.
Waves of sorrow surged in my mind. With a tearing sound, I thrust my hand into my chest and gripped my heart.
"Do you truly feel sad? If you do, your heart should ache."
Lord Shenyan took a sip of wine and spoke. I looked at him in confusion.
"You’re not human, Ethan Zhang! I witnessed your birth, so I know—some people disappear because of their bodies. Is it possible not to feel sorrow at failing to be human? Is it really so simple, Ethan Zhang?"
Lord Shenyan stood up and pressed both hands on my shoulders. I stared at him, stunned.
"Impossible, right? You want to marry Rachel Lan, to be with her forever, but your body is gone—and you don’t care? Do you truly not care, or have you lost the heart to care? All along, these important things—what do they mean to you, in your eyes, in your heart? Answer me..."
There was no pain at all; my body felt nothing. Yet those thoughts of sorrow and suffering still lingered. Only now did I realize: these things should make me feel sad and hurt, but it wasn’t genuine—it wasn’t from my heart.
A ball of white flame ignited in Lord Shenyan’s hand, and he slowly pressed his palm to my chest.
"No change at all, Ethan Zhang."
I stared at Lord Shenyan in surprise; a bitter smile crossed his face.
"Everything about you now is driven by responsibility. Such a life is unbearably painful, Ethan Zhang."
Lucas Dao took a deep drink and shook his head.
"Have I already lost the qualifications to be human?"
I gazed quietly at Lord Shenyan. He nodded.
"Yes. I remember how hard it was for you to become human, but you’ve lost that qualification now—and also the qualification to be a ghost."
"Is that so!"
I lifted my head and looked at the gray sky.
"Will it always be gray?"
Sadness filled my eyes, but perhaps now I understood—now I was more awake. This sorrowful look belonged to someone who had witnessed countless sorrows, who had learned that when sadness came, you were supposed to show this expression.