The Blood Fiend cursed loudly as he was struck repeatedly by Master. Watching sweat drip from Master's forehead, I suddenly recalled a forbidden technique he had once mentioned—a life-forcing method that would inevitably shorten one's lifespan.
The Blood Fiend was no longer fooled. Though frantic, he had grown resistant to the agonized screams of our Former Senior Sister.
Then, our Eldest Senior Sister did something even more brutal—she slowly slit the Former Senior Sister’s throat.
The relentless screams shattered the Blood Fiend’s focus. He tried to charge forward to stop her, but Master kept him entangled.
The Former Senior Sister’s head was now held in the hands of our Current Senior Sister.
My two Senior Brothers and I swallowed hard. We’d never realized how twisted our Eldest Senior Sister could be.
"No!" The Blood Fiend descended into madness—but in that moment of distraction, Master drove a fatal strike through his skull, top to bottom, leaving no chance for transformation (if such a thing were even possible).
Exhausted, Master collapsed. The Xuanqing Division swiftly and meticulously disposed of the Blood Fiend’s remains. Following Master’s advice, they wrapped the flesh in yellow cloth covered with talismans, preparing to melt it down at a steel mill.
Master never left that building. He had indeed used that forbidden technique.
"Stop looking at me like I’m already dead," Master muttered, lying on the ground as his face rapidly aged.
"Master!" My heart ached, remembering every moment with him—how he always called me stupid yet secretly arranged everything for me, how he was greedy for money yet never hesitated to face true evil.
I’d figured it out: Master had wanted to control all the malevolent spirits he could capture, using them as leverage to negotiate with the underworld. But I wasn’t sure if it was for the Xuanqing Division’s sake or to defeat the Blood Fiend.
He always thought on such a grand scale. Not like me.
Two tears fell. A Senior Brother patted my shoulder.
"I’m fine," I said stubbornly, resentment bubbling. Even if he was Master, he shouldn’t have been so reckless! "Good riddance! Now no one will scold me or stuff random ghosts into the shop!"
I said it to make myself feel better.
But the Senior Brother kept patting me. When I looked up, red-eyed, Master’s ghostly face was inches from mine, startling me onto the floor.
"Good riddance, huh?"
I glanced down at his corpse, then back at his spirit. Sometimes walking this path wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
Master gave us his final instructions, bid farewell to the Xuanqing Division, and then left arm-in-arm with his crowd of ghosts.
I felt dazed. It seemed he’d even foreseen his own death.
We all followed his arrangements. Second Senior Brother inherited Master’s position in the Xuanqing Division. The Eldest Senior Sister continued running her company, providing us resources. Third Senior Brother slung a pack over his shoulder and began wandering—though I doubted Master had phrased it that way.
As for me? I inherited Master’s shop. The one with rent due soon.
Luckily, my father sent me money. He was remarrying and promised monthly support, as long as I didn’t bother him.
I kept the shop, but Jing Tian was gone. So was Sister Hong. And after that day, I never saw Master’s spirit again.
According to Second Senior Brother, the underworld had revised its terms with the Xuanqing Division, offering more support and merits instead of outright exploitation. So, he recruited more members.
The Blood Fiend’s demise stayed secret, so the world still saw us as heretics—the Xuanqing Division included. But such talk meant little against force. Even minor sects scurried away at the sight of me.
I heard the Eldest Senior Sister had bankrupted the sect that once captured me, leaving their disciples starving and unable to cultivate. She was always busy, drowning in meetings. Her driver dropped me off, and I swiped a bottle of her fancy liquor, planning to drown my thoughts.
Then, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted a familiar figure darting past a street corner. I chased after it—but found nothing.
"Hallucinating, huh?" I scratched my head and chuckled. Better head back. Two new ghosts in the shop bickered nonstop. Still, that silhouette… it looked just like the little girl who always trailed Master. But none of us had ever asked. It wasn’t unusual for Master to keep a spirit. Even the Senior Brothers and Sisters never questioned it.
"Me? Reincarnated?" Fang Zhiyi pointed at himself.
Bai Jingtian nodded. "Boss, you forgot? You even chugged three bowls of Soul-Dispersing Soup." He eyed Fang Zhiyi. "Though seems like it didn’t work too well."
"You doubting my skills?" Wei Xiaohua bristled. "Clearly, Boss is just too strong!"
"Still feels weird," Yu Zhaodi mused. "Boss, you actually came back as a Taoist priest."
Fang Zhiyi muttered to Little Hei, "Why’s this a sequel?"
Little Hei shrugged. "Dunno. It happens."
Fang Zhiyi straightened. "What’s with the underworld now? This is exploitation!" He meant the Xuanqing Division’s treatment.
Bai Jingtian grimaced. "No choice. These rules were set by you—back when you suddenly decided to reincarnate. We couldn’t stop you. For years, things stayed the same."
Fang Zhiyi understood. That stubborn opera ghost had always been rigid. He smacked each of their heads. "Blockheads! Rules are rigid, but ghosts—err, people—should adapt! Understood?"
"Boss, maybe think before you speak."
"The framework stays, but be flexible! Humanize it!" Fang Zhiyi jabbed a finger. "Thankfully, the Xuanqing Division’s members actually care about peace. Otherwise, they’d have revolted! I was ready to fight if negotiations failed. Me, my four disciples, plus those vicious ghosts—we’d have made the underworld sweat."
The ghosts exchanged glances. Same old Fang Zhiyi—preparing to talk and flip the table simultaneously. The Xuanqing Division, Fang Zhiyi, and those ferocious spirits would’ve been a nightmare to handle, especially with the underworld’s restrictions in the mortal realm.
"I see," Xiulian said softly, studying Fang Zhiyi. "Will you reincarnate again?"
Fang Zhiyi didn’t hesitate. "I’ll check on my disciples first."
As he left, Yu Zhaodi suddenly said, "Xiaohua, the Boss in the Reincarnation Mirror… it’s clearly—"
Bai Jingtian clamped a hand over her mouth. "Enough. Don’t say it." The others wore equally guarded expressions.
In the mirror behind Wei Xiaohua, Zhao Chenyang was unmistakably beating down a malevolent spirit.