Chapter 106: Where to find the Master

"Died of fire," the guard repeated his words slowly, and then grunted, "of monasticism."

"Hmm."

"Monasticism comes here at a young age, you're so wronged."

The guards are not smiling. Many people in the mortal community do not have wisdom and cannot make good karma, so when they mock the Taoist priests, they always mean to say that they cannot eat grapes and say that they are sour.

"I see that your soul is not right, it is not pure."

Master Huai Zui had put a spell on Mo Ran, which prevented him from being a living person and from contacting the spirits, so that the guards could not see through him, but he was a little uncomfortable, so he sat down again, crossed his legs and took a black ruler from the drawer.

"The ruler of sin." He said smugly, although he didn't know what he had to be proud of, the ruler wasn't his, but the smaller the official, the more he liked to show off, and the guard snapped the ruler onto the table, rolled his eyes and stared at Mo Ran, "Give me your hand, let me test your virtue in your Yang life."

Mo Ran :""

His virtue in the world of the living

Will the test send him straight to the Yanluo gods to be crushed into pieces?

But with all eyes on him, he had nowhere to go but to sigh and hold the lamp in one hand while reaching for it with the other.

The guard pressed the ruler to his pulse, and almost as soon as it touched it, the ruler of DD sin whistled shrilly, gurgling blood bubbling out of its black body, accompanied by the wailing of millions of people.

"I will not die in peace."

" Mo Weiyu, you shall not live forever."

"A daddy motherfucker dog thing why you why why"

"Don't kill me please, don't kill me."

Mo Ran jerked her hand back, her face as white as paper in a flash.

The circle of ghosts were all looking at him furtively, the guard's gaze particularly obscure as he stared at Mo Ran like a tiger and, after a moment, looked back down at the ruler.

The red light on the ruler disappeared, and the blood, as if it were an illusion from the party, flowed away to nowhere, leaving the table clean, except for a line of writing that gradually emerged from the body of the ruler.

The offence is unpardonable, and the escort is to be taken to the first

The first few levels of hell

Because Mo Ran hadn't finished measuring the DD before he called it a day, the top was not finished.

The guard grabbed him violently by the arm and stared at him with a fierce, vicious and extremely venomous death stare, like a bored hunter who has finally caught a rare bird after a long time. His nostrils fluttered, his eyes glowed with a strange light, and his intestines were almost halfway out, but this time he didn't even bother to stuff them back in.

"Don't move, you test me again."

He was impatient, greedy, almost as if he was already taking credit for Yanluo's work.

His ghostly claws were deep in Mo Ran's wrists, forcing him towards him and poking the ruler into his flesh like a maniac.

If he could catch a ghost that could go to the 18th level of hell, it would be a great achievement, and he would be able to rise at least three levels, and no longer have to keep track of every single wisp of lonely soul at the city gate every day.

"Measure well, measure well"

The DD sin ruler lights up again.

There was still blood and cries all over the place.

All the people Mo Ran has killed and the sins he has committed seem to be squeezed into this small black ruler, and the grievances are almost bursting the ruler.

"So hateful."

"Mo Weiyu, I will not let you go even if I die."

Mo Ran's face grew hard, his eyes lowered, his lips pursed, the colour in his eyes unknown.

"You have no conscience you have turned the earth into purgatory."

"I won't let you go even if I'm a ghost."

"Ahhhhhh."

Wailing, hissing, cursing and resenting.

Suddenly a faint sigh was heard over so many voices.

"I'm sorry, Mo Ran, it's Master's fault."

Mo Ran's eyes snapped open with a look of grief.

He heard again the voice of Chu Wanning in his previous life, so soft, so sad, but like a sharp knife bored hard into his skull, almost splitting his soul open.

Those voices faded and the DD ruler of sin returned to peace.

The line above reappears in small print.

The offence is unpardonable and he is escorted to the

This time Mo Ran didn't take his hand off earlier, but the line still didn't finish

The guard froze and tapped the black ruler: "It's broken"

The black ruler trembled slightly under the slap, and after a while, the words dissipated on their own, and a thin wisp of immortal Qi floated up from the surface of the ruler, and an infinite brilliant glow shone out.

This time there were no cries coming from the ruler, but rather the sound of a hundred birds and a slender voice entering the clouds, as if the sound of elegant music from the nine heavens had descended on hell.

It was only when the fairy voice stopped that the guards suddenly snapped back to attention.

At a second glance, six large letters had fallen on the ruler of sin

An unusual soul, feasible.

The guard lost his voice: "That's impossible."

How is it that you are not just a sin that cannot be forgiven?

Undeterred, he took the ruler and measured it many more times, but each time the result was the same: first a miserable scream, then a good sound, and in the end, without exception, it was written that the unusual soul was viable.

The guard was disappointed to the core; there was no reason for him to stop an unusual soul from entering the hellmouth.

He started stuffing his guts again viciously, saying as he did so, "Pfft, I think you really did die of a walk in the park."

Mo Ran was also quite surprised and did not know why. After thinking about it, he guessed that it was probably Master Huai Zui's charms that had confused the ruler, and was slightly relieved.

"Get lost, take the body sticker, delay your grandfather for half a day, and get lost"

"" Mo Ran was begging for it and was about to leave with the lamp in his arms, when the guard stopped him with a shining light and a loud voice

"Stand still."

Mo Ran's heart was beating fast, but his face was still calm and he said, seemingly helplessly, "What's wrong again?"

The guard lifted his chin: "What is that you are holding in your arms?"

"Oh, this." Mo Ran rubbed his soul lamp, thoughts flashing in his mind, and turned to laugh, "It's my burial."

"Buried with"

"Yes, it's a spellbinder."

"Heh. Some fun." The guard gestured to the table, a shining light in his eyes, "Put your accompanying burial here and test it again. I'm afraid it's this magic weapon of yours that has confused the ruler of sins."

""

Mo Ran had already cursed the calf in his heart, but there was nothing he could do but to put the soul lamp down and extend his wrist again in apprehension.

The guard seemed to have his mind made up and couldn't wait to press the ruler up again.

The result, however, is the same.

It is still six words, clear as day: unusual soul, viable.

Even Mo Ran, not to mention the guards, was at a loss for words, but having taken this test, the other side was finally dead, and let him in with an extremely lazy wave of the hand.

Not daring to stay long, Mo Ran picks up the spirit guide lamp and walks through the long tunnel until the light changes at the end.

The ghost world, vastly unfolding before his eyes.

This is the first level of hell, and at first glance it is impossible to see the end of it. The sky is scarlet, like a boiling haze. Strange vines and trees rise up from the ground, while near by there are jagged roofs and tiles, and in the distance there are palaces and houses. At the entrance is a huge Tongtian stone with the inscription 'Cao's skin returns to dust, his soul to Nanke Town'. Next to it stands a red-painted pagoda with the words 'Nanke Town', each as tall as an adult male, depicted in gold water.

The first level of hell is called Nanke Town. If there was nothing wrong with the dead, they would all stay here for eight or ten years, waiting for the judge to call them, and then go to the second level to be judged.

Mo Ran holds the spirit guide lamp as he looks on.

The layout is not much different from that of the earth, with streets, households and tile shops, 18 streets in all, nine across and nine down. Ghost men, ghost women and ghost children were walking in all directions, laughing and crying, just like a group of demons dancing and a hundred ghosts walking at night.

To the east, a newly bereaved woman was heard choking, "What to do, what to do, they say that a woman who remarries will be cut in half, head and feet, and each will go to the two dead men, is this true?" Who can tell me if this is true?

Before I died, I went to the land temple and donated a threshold, wanting a thousand people to step on it to atone for my sins. But the village chief said I had to pay him 400 gold before he would allow me to replace the threshold.

A man to the west was also counting: "Four hundred and one days, four hundred and two days, four hundred and three days... We agreed that she would leave when I did, and that we would die together. If she is so weak, she might not have lost her way on the road to the Yellow Springs, and if she has, what should I do?"

The newly-dead ghosts of Boing Boing gathered in groups at the entrance to Nanke Town, still reluctant and wandering.

But further on, they are old ghosts who have come back to their senses and resigned themselves to their fate.

They were much more relaxed, much more at ease, some of them making their own living, passing the days in poverty, suffering through the long hours, waiting for the judgment.

When you reach Third Street, you can see the downtown yelling, no less red.

In the end, they are all ghosts who have not broken their flesh and bones, and they are still indistinguishable from human beings and ghosts before they drink the soup. Those who were in the pear orchard in life still perform vaudeville in the streets, and those who were embroiderers in life still weave clothes from the clouds of hell when they die. Butchers, on the other hand, no longer dare to kill, but they can always pick up a living sharpening knives and choking shears.

There was a great deal of hawking and shouting, and a great deal of bustling.

Mo Ran walks up to a ghost selling calligraphy and paintings. The ghost had probably not sold a single painting in his life and had died of starvation.

When he saw someone sitting in front of his stall, the thin scholar raised his dizzy eyes, but his expression was eager: "Buy a painting, sir."

"I want you to draw a portrait for me."

The scholar seems to be a little sorry: "The figures are better than the landscape, but the mood is always lacking, look at this picture of smoke and clouds on Mount Tai"

Mo Ran said, "I don't like landscapes, so I'll ask you to paint me a person."

"The scholar looked at him twice, not too happy, "A benevolent man enjoys the mountains and a wise man enjoys the water, you are young, you should cultivate your sentiments and smell more of the scent of painting. I originally could not sell this painting of the clouds and smoke of Mount Tai, but since you have come to my stall and asked for it, I think you are not completely ignorant, so I will give you a bargain."

"I want to paint a person."

Bookman: ""

The two men locked eyes, but the scholar was no match for him, and in a short time he was defeated, but afterwards he was quite angry, and even his dead face seemed to have some blood on it.

"I don't paint people. To paint, ten times the price."

Mo Ran said, "The ghost world needs money too."

"Family and friends, bring paper money, there is always something." The scholar said coldly, "Money makes the devil work. I don't like the smell of copper, but a gentleman loves his money, and he has a way of taking it. You are not a friend or a relative, nor do you know Bo Ya Zi Qi, so why should I suffer for you for no reason?"

He rattled on and on, but Mo Ran, who was not well read, immediately frowned and said, "I've just arrived and no one has burned me yet."

The scholar said, "No money, no sale."

Mo Ran thought about it for a moment and came up with an idea, so he pointed to the painting of the smoke and clouds of Mount Tai and said, "Fine, if it's not for sale, it's not for sale. But I have nothing to do, can I hear you tell me about this landscape painting?"

The scholar froze and turned his anger to joy, "You want to hear this"

Mo Ran nodded: "You don't have to pay to hear you talk about learning, do you?"

"No need." The scholar was very haughty, with a somewhat ridiculous and pathetic glow on his face, "Scholarship does not speak of money, to speak of money would be dirty. A scholar's business must not be tainted with that vulgarity."

Mo Ran nodded again and said, "He knew exactly why this little bookworm was starving to death. Although he found it amusing, his heart was more or less indifferent, but it was a pity that he was shy, otherwise he would have liked to give him some silver.

The scholar gleefully took the framed painting from the shelf and set it up, clearing a ghostly throat that didn't need clearing, and said apprehensively and proudly, "Then I'll begin."

Seeing that the little bookworm had taken the bait, Mo Ran smiled and said, "Please advise."