Chapter Fifty-One: Bewitched and Lost in the Maze

Lin Ran hurriedly tossed the Fool into the coffin. Fortunately, the Ghostly Coffin Bearers were usable at this moment; otherwise, Lin Ran truly wouldn’t have known how to move this deadweight of a fool. Carrying the heavy Fool for a few steps left Lin Ran gasping for breath. After all, Lin Ran’s current state could hardly be called human, so he could distinctly feel the difference in weight when hauling the Fool’s hulking body.

Once seated atop the ghostly coffin, Lin Ran immediately issued a command to the bearers. Instantly, they began to lurch and dash off into the distance. In a flash, wind roared past Lin Ran’s ears, gusts rushing into his mouth and nearly suffocating him. Trees on either side blurred backward, and in the blink of an eye, the horde of ghosts was left far behind. Lin Ran quickly sprawled across the coffin, clutching its lid tightly, grateful he hadn’t removed his clothes—otherwise, he’d have been blown away entirely.

He hadn’t expected the Ghostly Coffin Bearers to possess such speed; how had he never noticed before? At this pace, they could easily cover thousands of miles in a single night. Yet Lin Ran felt no relief; five days had already passed since the Double Seventh Festival. Still, he had found no trace of Guo Ting’s main soul.

If he failed to locate Guo Ting’s main soul within fourteen days, the consequences would be unimaginable. Yet there was no clue at all. As the bearers ran on for an uncertain stretch, Lin Ran heard a knocking from within the coffin—a sound that startled him. It turned out the Fool, whom Lin Ran had knocked unconscious, had awakened.

Lin Ran quickly ordered the bearers to stop and let the Fool out.

“Why’d you knock me out?” The Fool emerged, grumbling discontentedly at Lin Ran, looking for all the world like a wronged bride.

“So you’re not that foolish after all,” Lin Ran mused, suddenly suspecting the Fool wasn’t truly simple-minded, since he understood who had knocked him out.

The Fool’s face soured further, and his stomach growled audibly. Pouting, he jumped off the coffin in search of food. After such a tumultuous night, he was famished. Lin Ran didn’t stop him; now that danger had passed, he no longer feared pursuit. He guessed the Fool’s strength likely came from whatever food he found—this fool was indeed a peculiar one.

Bounding from the coffin, the Fool made for the distant woods. Lin Ran surveyed the surroundings; they were encircled by mountains, and given that the Fool himself was a ghost, Lin Ran needn’t worry about his safety. As long as he didn’t cause trouble for others, everything would be fine.

With nothing else to do, Lin Ran took out his soul-summoning bell and sat on the ground, examining it repeatedly. A persistent doubt gnawed at him: why was he able to use something belonging to White Impermanence? And why had Black Impermanence grown so fearful when Lin Ran donned white garments? Could it be he had another identity?

Was he truly White Impermanence? Lin Ran pulled out the Book of Yin-Yang. On the page about White Impermanence, he found descriptions of weapons identical to those he wielded. Though his suspicions about his identity grew, he couldn’t accept that he was White Impermanence. If so, why was he still a living, breathing human?

While Lin Ran puzzled over this, he noticed the Fool hadn’t wandered far. When they’d arrived, such commotion would have surely scared off any wild animals. What was going on? Why was the Fool still circling that area? Was there something there? Lin Ran watched for some time and was startled to find the Fool wasn’t merely wandering—he was walking forward, yet circling, as if trapped in a ghostly maze.

Lin Ran frowned; the area didn’t seem suited for such phenomena, and ghost mazes usually ensnared the living, not ghosts. The principle was simple: in darkness, a person’s uneven steps, unable to see anything, could lead them to walk in circles, believing they’d traveled far when they were merely spinning in place. With a flashlight or any light, one could break free, and ghosts typically weren’t susceptible to such low-level traps. So why was the Fool circling on the spot?

Lin Ran dared not act rashly. He quickly consulted the Book of Yin-Yang for the page on ghost mazes. If even ghosts could fall victim, he certainly wouldn’t risk it. Yet the book made no mention of ghosts being ensnared. What was the cause, then? Just as Lin Ran pondered, a sudden scream tore from the Fool, who then vanished without a trace.

Alarmed, Lin Ran hurried to stow the ghostly coffin, rushing to the spot where the Fool had stood, but there was no sign of him. Only a deep hole yawned nearby. Lin Ran approached, squatting at the edge, curious. The hole struck him as odd—not the work of wild animals, but as though professionally excavated.

Who had dug this? Had the Fool fallen in? Why would he succumb to a ghost maze here? None of it made sense. Suddenly, Lin Ran recalled the page on feng shui in the Book of Yin-Yang, which described how ancient feng shui was used to select imperial burial sites, ensuring dynastic prosperity and longevity. If this place was indeed a prime feng shui burial ground, the hole might be an exit left by a feng shui master, or perhaps a tomb robber’s tunnel. The area was likely shrouded by some formation, meant to conceal the entrance. The art of Qimen Dunjia included arrangements such as these, and their placement followed strict principles. In the Three Kingdoms era, the Shu Prime Minister Zhuge Liang famously trapped an army with a Bagua formation; those unfamiliar with its workings could be ensnared for a lifetime.

The Fool, ignorant of formations, had thus circled endlessly here. As Lin Ran grasped this crucial point, someone abruptly shoved him hard—and he plummeted straight into the hole.