Cataclysm Chapter 122: Extras·Ghost Marriage 02

Chapter 122: Extras·Ghost Marriage 02

Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations

Editor: Karai

 

The sound of opera singing drifted through the wind from the ancestral hall, faintly carrying the eerie and chilling melody. Chen Yang glanced at the clock, the moonlight streaming in showed that the hour hand was between 3:00 and 4:00, almost 4:00. At 4:00, the performance would end, and the restless wandering spirits drawn to the show would come out to roam.

They would roam for at least an hour, and by 5:00, when the rooster crowed, the ghosts would leave. But there was still half an hour left. As long as he could get back within that half hour and avoid the ghost parade, he would be fine. Thinking this, Chen Yang immediately pushed open the door and ran out, while the corpse behind him twisted its limbs and quickly crawled out, almost like it was flying up walls.

When Chen Yang reached the bridge and looked back, he saw that the corpses were still following him, not a single one was left behind. Far away, a dog sensed something foul and began barking frantically in that direction. The homeowners, thinking they were being robbed, got out of bed and opened the door, only to see a group of black shadows lying on the ground in the dark. As they walked over, the husband muttered, “Not sleeping in the middle of the night, rushing off to meet ghosts?”

The flashlight beam illuminated a corpse’s face, which had no features, only three black holes where its eyes, nose, and mouth should be. It suddenly let out a sharp scream, causing the man to immediately turn around, run inside, and lock the door. His wife, wrapped in a coat, asked, “What’s going on?” The husband hurriedly pushed her back, “Go back to sleep, it’s not something you should see. Hurry up and go back.”

The wife looked out the window, “Why do I see Chen Yang standing by the bridge? Could something happen? Should we invite him in?”

“Don’t interfere! You know how strange he is. What day is it today? The gates of hell are open, and the roads are filled with wild ghosts. Chen Yang won’t die, he’s tough. Don’t try to help him and end up cursing us!” The husband snapped at his wife and sent her back to the room.

Just as the wife was about to turn around, a corpse suddenly slammed into the window, its terrifying appearance making her scream and faint with a roll of her eyes. The husband and the dog were too frightened to make a sound, hiding in a place where the moonlight didn’t reach. The corpse stood silently outside the window for a moment. Seeing no movement, it tried to move to the door, but as it neared, a voice shouted, “Stop!” A flash of golden light appeared, and the Tianshi, holding a peach-wood sword, struck the corpse down at its feet, turning it to ashes that slowly sank into the ground.

From the corner of his eye, Chen Yang noticed a rooster tied to a bamboo pole at the bridgehead. The rooster’s glossy tail feathers had lost their color due to death, and its tiny eyes were devoid of light. At the rooster’s feet, there was a pile of firecracker ash, which had become filthy and damp. On top of the ashes, three bowls were placed, filled with white rice mixed with incense ash.

This indicated that someone had recently drowned in the river under the bridge. The rooster was used to summon the soul of the dead, calling their spirit to attach to the rooster, after which the rooster would be killed to help the deceased reincarnate. Otherwise, the spirit would remain attached to the rooster, living as a beast, and miss the chance to be reincarnated. The firecrackers and incense were used to intimidate and reward other wandering spirits to prevent them from taking the soul-summoning spot. The three bowls of rice with incense ash were meant to be the last meal before the soul was sent to reincarnate, symbolizing simplicity and a wish for the deceased to be full before their journey.

Every year, a few people drown in the large river beneath the bridge. Those with money would hire people to fish out the bodies and invite shamans or self-proclaimed Taoist priests who hadn’t yet been fully initiated to perform rites for the souls. However, there were also those who couldn’t afford the body retrieval or the priests, leaving many restless spirits to accumulate in the river.

Chen Yang stood in the center of the bridge and heard the familiar rustling sounds, as if reptiles were crawling beneath the bridge, the noise dense and overwhelming. Along with these sounds came the dripping water, and without a doubt, the river ghosts had crawled out and were attaching themselves to the underside of the bridge, preparing to climb onto the bridge.

There was no time to think, so Chen Yang quickly removed the red string from his wrist, tied a copper coin to the end, and ensured it was secure before running forward without a second glance.

Behind him, the swollen, bloated corpses crawled up from the bridge surface. The river ghosts and dry corpses clashed, each trying to claim the only chance to return to life, beginning to tear at each other. Some river ghosts rolled with the dry corpses into the river, while others pulled at limbs and bodies. In the end, the larger group of river ghosts managed to catch the agile but fewer dry corpses, dragging the bloated, decaying bodies onto the bridge, where they emitted guttural sounds at Chen Yang, who was running toward them.

Their tongues were waterlogged, and their vocal cords damaged, so they could only produce gurgling sounds. Their bodies were swollen like two-hundred-pound fatties, leaving behind water stains and a putrid stench wherever they crawled. Chen Yang wrapped the red string around his palm, using the end tied to the copper coin to lash at the river ghost, the yang energy burning the ghost.

However, the river ghost, swollen from the water, had long since lost its sense of pain, and thus, it was undeterred by the yang energy’s burn. Chen Yang didn’t slow down; instead, he quickened his pace, charging at the ghost, slipping beneath its arm, and skillfully looping the red string around its neck. He jumped onto its shoulder and formed a hand gesture, chanting, “Left guards the Six Heroes, right defends the Six Deities, first kill the evil ghosts, then slay the Nightlight, urgently, as the law commands!”

The river ghost struggled fiercely but was eventually killed under the red string and the curse of the ghost-slaying incantation. This temporarily shocked the other river ghosts, causing them to hesitate and refrain from approaching. Chen Yang seized the opportunity to flee, his face turning pale as he turned and ran. The ghost-slaying incantation was incredibly powerful, and though he had not yet mastered it, he had used it to frighten and deter the river ghosts, buying himself time to escape. Without this, he wouldn’t have been able to cross the bridge.

As he ran toward the direction of the ancestral hall, Chen Yang calculated the time and realized he didn’t have enough. He needed to move faster. As he distanced himself from the bridge, he glanced back and saw that the black and white ghosts on the bridge had realized what was happening and were now following him.

With a loud thud, Chen Yang gasped for breath as he pushed open the doors of the ancestral hall. The actors on the stage stopped singing and looked over, though invisible to the naked eye, Chen Yang could see the space inside the hall, where over a hundred chairs were arranged, each filled with ghostly spectators. At that moment, all the spirits turned to look at him, and two ghost officials stood at the entrance.

The two ghost officials glanced over Chen Yang, assuming he was a wandering soul who had escaped, and were about to ask his name for the records. However, the hall manager, tasked with guarding the hall against living intruders, reached Chen Yang first and said, “Get out! Living people cannot come in and disturb the ancestors. You young ones have no respect—coming here to die? Get out, out!”

Chen Yang passed by the manager and said, “Let me hide for a moment.” He then bowed to the two ghost officials, “Please be lenient.” Afterward, he walked to the center of the hall. The ghosts in the hall stared at him, and the two ghost officials, surprised, exchanged looks. They had never seen a living person with such heavy yang energy, like a vengeful ghost. After a brief exchange, they realized they could see each other.

One ghost official said, “With his heavy yang energy, he likely doesn’t have much time left.” The other said, “The yang energy blocks his face, so I can’t see his fate. What do you think, should we intervene?”

After a moment of thought, the first ghost official shook his head, “His fate is strange, his destiny extraordinary. He might die young, but if he doesn’t, he will certainly achieve something great. In the future, he will likely have dealings with us in the underworld. Let’s show him some respect now, so we can have dealings with him later.”

Having said this, the two ghost officials did nothing further. They didn’t intervene, and neither did the spirits present, who dared not act out of turn. These were mostly souls who had died naturally and were waiting for their time in the underworld to end before reincarnation. They had no resentment and were not interested in Chen Yang’s unique constitution. Instead, they quietly observed him and whispered among themselves. Some, recognizing him as a villager, called him over to chat, eager to know about the descendants in the world of the living.

The ghost official barked, “Living people must not engage too much with the dead.” But that was the end of it. They turned a blind eye, not getting involved.

As for the manager, he felt a chill and instinctively hunched his shoulders, closing his mouth and stopping his attempts to interfere. The stage was always a place prone to strange occurrences, especially a stage meant for ghosts. The manager had been performing for decades, so he had encountered his fair share of strange happenings. He knew that when such things happened, the best course was to remain silent and not participate. So he gestured for the actors to continue their performance.

Soon, the manager glanced back at Chen Yang, only to see a chair slide out by itself with no one around. It was as though something invisible had pulled Chen Yang to sit in the chair. Many fruits and offerings on the table floated in mid-air, gathering in front of Chen Yang. The manager closed the door, kept silent, and withdrew to the corner, trying his best to block out everything happening.

Chen Yang was now receiving greetings from the village’s elders, long deceased. These were people who had watched his parents grow up and had been friends with his grandfather. He now sat beside his grandfather, holding onto his clothes and smiling obediently.

Suddenly, a loud knock echoed from the door, and the manager furrowed his brow, shouting, “No living person should approach the stage!” But the knocking grew more frantic, as if the door was about to be broken open.

The manager stood up, ready to open the door, but Chen Yang called out, “Don’t open it.” The manager turned in surprise, about to ask why, but when he saw Chen Yang’s solemn expression, he hesitated. The knocking had changed to banging, and the door’s wooden bolts shook. The manager could guess that the one knocking wasn’t alive. He stepped back, retreating into the corner.

Chen Yang stood up with a gloomy expression, but his grandfather stopped him. He looked down in surprise, seeing his grandfather smile at the other theatergoers, who waved at him. Then, his grandfather pulled him and ran toward the back of the stage. The ghost officer tried to chase them but was blocked by the ghosts. After that, the wooden bolt was shaken open, and the large door swung wide, allowing a number of dried corpses and water ghosts to crawl in.

The ghost officers were too busy trying to capture the evil spirits and stabilize those who had just come from the underworld to care about the escaping ghosts. Meanwhile, the manager and the actors on stage were startled by the door being knocked open, and a powerful gust of wind swept through, knocking over tables, chairs, and offerings. They realized something was wrong and quickly hid behind the stage, summoning the Hua Guang Patriarch.

The Hua Guang Patriarch, also known as the Fire God, was the temple’s deity. He appeared when the evil spirits wreaked havoc in the mortal world, almost destroying the stage, and, after a request from the two ghost officers who couldn’t defeat the evil spirits, he came to help them suppress the ghosts.

Grandfather Chen led Chen Yang to the small door of the ancestral hall, opened it, and sent him off. Chen Yang heard the chaos coming from the stage and became worried, saying, “I thought the ancestral hall could hold back those evil ghosts.”

“The evil ghosts are greedy; they won’t retreat just because of a door. Hurry up, it’s almost dawn. At the fourth watch, the gates of hell close, and all the spirits will be taken back to the underworld, but you still need to be careful of any evil ghosts that haven’t reported back,” Grandfather Chen pushed his grandson out the door. “Don’t worry about the situation at the stage. Those two ghost officers are specialized in handling evil ghosts, and they have their own ways of dealing with them. Besides, the Hua Guang Patriarch is at the stage. The manager is also a Tianshi; though his cultivation isn’t deep, he has a connection with the Patriarch. If he can summon the Hua Guang Patriarch, those evil ghosts won’t be a threat.”

Tears welled up in Chen Yang’s eyes, feeling reluctant to leave. Grandfather Chen closed the door and smiled kindly, saying, “Go now, the Taoist teachings value life. Yang Yang, live well.” With that, the door was shut.

Chen Yang wiped away his tears and ran toward home. As he passed the bridge and street corner, he saw many ghosts being taken back to the underworld—the fourth watch had arrived, and the gates of hell were about to close. But for Chen Yang, this was the most dangerous moment because not only did the ghosts want to kill him, but even the ghost officers chasing the spirits saw him as a ghost and wanted to drag him back to the underworld.

Chen Yang could only hide and run home, but at the alley corner, he encountered a Yaksha, a demon tasked with capturing evil spirits. The Yaksha, with a poor sense of sight, mistook Chen Yang for an evil ghost trying to escape and chased him with an iron chain. The Yaksha was over two meters tall, and each of his steps was equivalent to two of Chen Yang’s. The Yaksha, also an evil spirit, was a ghost soldier of the underworld.

When Chen Yang used a red string and copper coins to defend himself, the Yaksha recognized him as a Tianshi, which angered the Yaksha even more. “A Tianshi breaking the law, using Taoist magic to escape the cycle of reincarnation! You deserve even worse punishment!”

Years of experience told Chen Yang that even if he stopped to argue that he was human and not a ghost, it would be useless. The Yaksha would still use his soul-capturing iron chain to bind him and drag him into the underworld. Even if they realized the mistake later, the underworld would let it slide. Because of his special constitution, even the Fengdu Yin wouldn’t allow someone with his fate to live peacefully in the mortal world.

Chen Yang ran down a side road to get home and confronted the Yaksha at the door. He managed to get inside first, and since the Yaksha couldn’t enter, he prowled outside, trying to drag Chen Yang away through the window.

Just then, the rooster crowed three times, and the sky began to brighten. The Yaksha, disregarding the taboo, rushed into the house. Chen Yang held the red string and copper coins, prepared to face him. As they were about to fight, Grandfather Wu returned, carrying a bottle of wine. Seeing the evil Yaksha in the room, he didn’t show any surprise. He simply told Chen Yang to put away the red string and copper coins and handed him the bottle of wine, saying, “Take this to the kitchen.”

Chen Yang didn’t argue, took the bottle, and walked to the kitchen. The Yaksha threw his chain, and the thick iron chain sparked as it collided with the floor, but it was blocked by a copper coin sword when it touched Chen Yang. Chen Yang paused, entering the kitchen to set the bottle down. He heard the sounds of the struggle outside, but it soon quieted down. When he went back out, he saw Grandfather Wu sitting on the couch, looking exhausted.

Chen Yang walked over and asked softly, “Grandfather Wu, are you alright?”

Grandfather Wu waved for him to sit, then opened his eyes and said, “Yang Yang, grandfather’s time is almost up.”

Chen Yang froze, his face full of sorrow. “Is it because of me?”

“No, no, stop making things up. I’m not your master, and we don’t have any connection. How could you kill me? No, who said you killed anyone? Your fate isn’t that of a cursed lone star who kills your loved ones—why don’t you believe anything I say?” Grandpa Wu glared at him and continued, “I’ve told you, your parents and grandfather were killed by ghosts, not by you. My time is running out because my lifespan has ended. The death book says my years are up this year; it has nothing to do with you.”

Chen Yang pressed his lips together, deeply saddened. After a long silence, he asked in a suppressed voice, “When this year?”

“Winter, probably,” Grandpa Wu said, his rough hand resting on Chen Yang’s head. He wasn’t at ease with the boy, so he had pulled strings for many years, even going to seek help from the one in the ancient tomb. It took great effort to get a huge opportunity for Chen Yang. But this opportunity came with danger. On one side was a smooth path, while the other was filled with sharp blades. If it failed, Chen Yang would be killed instantly, and no one could save him. But if it succeeded, he would no longer be tormented by ghosts and could live a peaceful life.

Grandpa Wu spoke seriously, “Your opportunity has been found.”

Chen Yang was stunned, “Found it? What is it?”

“Ghost Marriage,” Grandpa Wu said. “I arranged a Ghost Marriage for you.”

 

 

 

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