"What do you mean?"
I looked at the Wraithlord in confusion. He smiled, then shook his head.
"These three people are actually the same person, just living in different eras. The Underworld Court's judgment of where a soul goes after death is actually quite simple."
My eyes widened, but the way the Wraithlord had just described the father and sons was nothing like the same person.
Then the Wraithlord explained to me: when the Underworld Court decides what kind of hell a person should go to, it’s all based on the good and evil they did in life. Because a person’s good and evil are balanced—there are times of kindness and times of wrongdoing.
If someone commits too much evil, they are sent directly to harsher hells. But if someone does too much good, they also can’t reincarnate, because good and evil are equal in the soul. People who commit too much evil usually, for some reason in life, kill off the good in themselves. After a long time of wrongdoing, the good gradually disappears until it’s gone.
So, under the judgment of the Infernal Judges and Hell’s Registrars, if a person still has a little good left in them, they’ll be sent to certain hells until the good and evil in their soul become equal, and only then do they get a chance to reincarnate.
Those who are too good, with almost no evil in their lives—not even a trace—have the good in their bodies completely suppressing the evil. Their good and evil are also unequal, so they can’t reincarnate either. Most of these people are used by the Underworld Court as Hell’s Registrars. Only when the evil in their bodies awakens and reaches balance can they reincarnate. But most good people, after becoming Hell’s Registrars, never choose to reincarnate and miss their chance.
Only one type of person, whose good and evil are almost perfectly balanced throughout their life—living a plain, uneventful existence—can reincarnate immediately.
"That’s incredible!"
I muttered something under my breath. The Ancestor Ghost laughed and continued speaking.
"Do you know what the reincarnation channel is made of?"
"Is it good and evil?"
The Ancestor Ghost nodded and told me that the channel of reincarnation began construction when the New Hell was built. After careful consideration, the Underworld Court decided to judge the souls of the dead by their good and evil, which was the fairest way.
Many things a person does in their life are directly related to good and evil, but the standard of judgment isn’t set by Yama or the Infernal Judges. Instead, after death, the Underworld Court can see one's entire life. In the end, it is the good and evil produced by oneself—the consciousness and consequences—that complete a life and determine judgment.
The Hell’s Registrars holding the Book of Life and Death can immediately discern these things. They judge the degree of good and evil: some fall into hell, some become ghost messengers. Most importantly, the reincarnation channel itself is formed bit by bit from the good and evil thoughts generated by people. These thoughts flow into hell and finally gather in the channel, where souls entering are violently compressed. The residual good and evil within them is squeezed out, leaving a pure soul ready for rebirth.
Once good and evil manifest, the reincarnation channel is originally unobstructed. But after the Six Realms were established, the channel connected to them, sending some souls directly into the Six Realms. The Heavenly Realm began to produce pure power, which, after entering the channel, is compressed by good and evil, forming new energy—becoming souls.
The River of Oblivion also took on the role of cleansing souls. Originally, everything was harmonious, but as the population grew, the Six Realms became overloaded, and the reincarnation channel could no longer bear the good and evil washed away in the River of Oblivion and cycled through the Six Realms, leading to a series of events.
This was a disaster for both worlds, Yin and Yang. But the Underworld Court discovered a kind of person: throughout their lives, their good and evil were perfectly balanced. Their lives were ordinary, but after death, their good and evil were equal. They could pass through the reincarnation channel effortlessly, but after rebirth, their fate would hardly change.
Either they suffered in the first half of life and enjoyed blessings in the second, or succeeded early and ended in misery. The three people the Ancestor Ghost mentioned from different eras were actually the same soul. The stories he told were just similar episodes from three lifetimes after multiple cycles of reincarnation.
Though the three of them had turbulent fates, each experienced their own joys and sorrows. Everything they did followed the pattern of good and evil. But for the Underworld Court, such people had one advantage: when they reincarnated, they didn’t absorb anything from the reincarnation channel.
"So, the three people I just mentioned, as incarnations of the same soul, even though the youngest son seemed to break fate in his lifetime, he ultimately didn’t. The eldest son appeared to escape his destiny in old age, but none of them truly knew what they wanted. That’s how they ended up this way!"
I blinked, confused, and looked at the Ancestor Ghost. I asked,
"Didn’t the youngest son already live the life he wanted?"
The Ancestor Ghost shook his head.
"The youngest son did get rich by following some business advice he overheard from travelers, and lived what he thought was his ideal life. But he began indulging himself, lost his drive, and what he truly wanted was probably more than just wealth. In the end, he died young. As for the eldest son, though he studied and earned a title, do you think someone with no connections could survive long in officialdom?"
I let out a sound of surprise. The Ancestor Ghost told me that the eldest son’s fate was miserable too—he couldn’t adapt to life as an official. Having only ever known the lower class, he had no idea what to do once he became an official. Within two years, he got into trouble and ended up back by the river.
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I was getting less and less clear about what the Ancestor Ghost was trying to tell me. What he said sounded logical, but when I thought deeper, something felt off.
But I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was wrong. Just then, the drunk on the ground finally woke up. I glanced at him, and the Ancestor Ghost conjured a jar labeled 'Ten-Thousand-Year Fine Wine.' When he opened it, the drunk caught the scent and immediately sobered up.
"First, take us to the colorful place you saw. Then I'll give you more wine—don't you want it?"
The Ancestor Ghost shook the wine jar. Instantly, the drunk scrambled over, begging for a drink. After taking a sip, he seemed even more sober and staggered up the mountain with us.
"If you figure it out, tell me, Lan Ruoxi. You’re smart—you should know what I’m trying to say."
I looked at the Ancestor Ghost, increasingly puzzled. I didn’t feel like thinking anymore. He sighed and glanced at me. By now, night had fully fallen. The drunk kept walking up the mountain path, but I had no idea where he was leading us. Eventually, the path disappeared. The drunk sat down, panting. The Ancestor Ghost gave him another sip, and the drunk patted the tree trunk behind him, saying:
"Here it is. This is the place..."
The Ancestor Ghost handed the wine jar to the drunk, who gulped it down. The Ancestor Ghost tried to reach into the tree trunk, but couldn’t. Frustrated, he kicked the jar out of the drunk’s hand, smashing it. The drunk started crying, lying on the ground. The Ancestor Ghost angrily yanked him up.
"I have more, but only if you remember."
The drunk’s face turned red as he struggled to recall. Finally, he remembered something, begged for another sip, and after drinking, staggered over to part the plants and led us onward.
The forest wasn’t very dense, and soon we reached a small pond. The Ancestor Ghost glanced at it. The drunk pointed to the pond, less than a meter wide. The water was alive, constantly seeping out.
"This time I promise it’s right."
The drunk said this, and just as the Ancestor Ghost reached out, he sensed something and looked at me with delight, nodding.
"As promised..."
"Look over there."
The Ancestor Ghost waved his hand, and instantly, behind us, hundreds of jars of wine appeared. The drunk shouted with excitement. The Ancestor Ghost motioned for me to follow, and together we jumped into the pond.
The moment I opened my eyes, the Ancestor Ghost and I were standing on a vast grassland. I was stunned by a swaying patch of colorful light ahead. Behind it was a world that looked utterly unfamiliar—strange rocks everywhere, bizarre plants I’d never seen before.
"We’ve arrived. From here, we can enter the Illusory Realm."
I nodded happily and was about to go forward when the Ancestor Ghost grabbed me.
"You can’t go now. You have to wait for the right moment."
"How long will it take?"
I asked, and the Ancestor Ghost smiled and shook his head.
"It could be a short while, or days, even months or years."
I blinked, feeling uneasy as I looked at the shimmering, water-like barrier. I walked over and tried to reach through. My fingers passed through it, and I stepped forward, but found myself still standing on the grassland.
"Will those twelve guys come looking for us?"
I asked, and the Ancestor Ghost shook his head.
"It seems they’ve given up. I doubt it’s because of them, though—probably something outside is stopping them. Maybe."
The Ancestor Ghost sat quietly on the ground. I felt uneasy; more waiting, and I had no idea how long it would be. I felt lost.
"Have you figured it out yet—the question from before?"