Wen Kexing hurried to take a closer look, going round and round in front of the cave’s entrance, tongue clicking, “It’s rumored that the point of connection between yin and yang carries a lot of yin energy, so there must be a dead locust tree next to it—do you know that it’s called the yin tree, or the ghost tree?”

Zhou Zishu had his arms crossed, face expressionless at the other’s ghost stories.

Wen Kexin’s descriptions were vivid. “Under the old locust there will be an unknown tombstone, and under them is the path to the Underworld in legends. During the full moon of the seventh month3, wandering souls will crawl out from the nether to return to the mortal realm. The path to the Yellow Spring4 is incredibly cold, and at the end you’ll see the gates of hell. Once going past that, you’ll no longer see the living, there are equinox flowers5 growing along the way, and then you’ll reach the Bridge of Helplessness6… Hey!”

Zhou Zishu already jumped down.

Wen Kexing stared dumbfoundedly at the other’s silhouette disappearing behind the entrance before jumping himself. He landed steadily, finding out that the earth was very firm. He looked up to see Zhou Zishu’s fleeting smile and the other asking, “Is Brother Wen also interested in seeing the path to the Underworld?”

Wen Kexing nodded, entirely serious. “So that the next time I tell my tales, I can officially add that they’re true stories.”

Zhou Zishu shook his head, still smiling. All of a sudden, Wen Kexing silenced them with a gesture, listening attentively with a frown. “Can you… hear it? What’s that sound?” His voice lowered.

Zhou Zishu tried to distinguish it carefully, his answer indecisive. “…Is it water?”

In split seconds, Wen Kexing lit up, taking the lead without forgetting to keep his voice down, “So the legends are true indeed!”

In front of them was a long narrow path; so cramped that two men couldn’t walk side by side, only when they had to shrink their shoulders and crouch down was it somewhat manageable. Zhou Zishu did not enjoy this posture at all, thinking that maybe this path was not the official, but one reserved only to women and children.

It was unclear how far in they had gone. Dirt fell on both of them, but the end was bright and vast—it led to a large cave, with a small river flowing across with unknown origin and destination.

There seemed to be wind inside this cave, but it was also unclear where it came from, the dreary chill came at them from every directions.

Even Wen Kexing shut his mouth at that moment, no longer rambling about how “the path to the Yellow Spring is incredibly cold”.

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Footnotes.

1 Rakshasa is a demon existing in Hindu mythology and Buddhism.