Volume Six: Celadon Chapter Five: The Ghost Market

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“Sister Phoenix, what exactly is the Ghost Market?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“You’ll know when we get there,” Yaoguang replied.

“Then why are you taking me and not Jiang Yun?” Huo Mingkun pressed.

“Jiang Yun’s soul is too weak—he can’t go. But you’ve been training with your Black-Pupil Yin-Yang Eyes for a while now; they’re like a natural talisman. I need more help, so I’m taking you,” Yaoguang explained.

“But you’re a revered deity. Why do you need help at all?” Huo Mingkun asked curiously.

“So what if I’m a deity? Is that so remarkable? Have you ever heard of a place teeming with ghostly energy? Akun, tonight, I’ll show you a world unlike any you’ve known.” Yaoguang smiled mysteriously.

“What kind of world?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“The world of ghosts.” Yaoguang gave another enigmatic smile.

The clock’s hands were nearing eleven. Yaoguang rose from the sofa. “Akun, let’s go.” With that, she headed outside, Huo Mingkun hurrying after her.

Yaoguang’s car drove toward the east side of the city. After an indeterminate time, they stopped before a decorative archway. Yaoguang parked the car.

“Sis, I thought we were going to the Ghost Market. Why did you bring me to the Antique Street?” Huo Mingkun looked baffled.

“You’ll see soon enough.” Yaoguang got out and walked inside. Past the arch, the street was deserted. But after walking a while, they saw a bustling crowd ahead, with many stalls lining the road and people milling about.

“So this is the Ghost Market?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“Not entirely.” Yaoguang kept walking with Huo Mingkun.

“Hey, you two—want to check out some new stock?” A short man approached, holding a cloth bag.

Huo Mingkun was about to respond, but Yaoguang pulled him away before he could speak, not even glancing at the man, and continued forward. She whispered, “Here, don’t talk if you’re not buying. If you speak and don’t buy, you’ll bring trouble upon yourself.”

“Why?” Huo Mingkun asked, puzzled.

“Everything sold here is contraband or things that can’t see the light of day. Do you really think these people are easy to deal with? Not speaking unless you’re buying is a rule here. Got it?”

“Got it,” Huo Mingkun nodded obediently.

Yaoguang led him through the crowd and into a narrow alley that grew darker and more deserted with every step. Soon, they couldn’t see a single soul. Only at long intervals did a faint, dim streetlamp cast a ghostly light, making the alley feel chillingly sinister. Occasional gusts of wind sent shivers down their spines.

“Sis, I thought we were going to the Ghost Market. Why are we—” Huo Mingkun hesitated as Yaoguang showed no signs of stopping, nervously shrinking his neck.

“That was a Ghost Market for humans. In essence, it’s just a black market, selling things you’d never see on the regular streets—like local goods and such. But where we’re going is the real Ghost Market, the one for ghosts. That’s the true Ghost Market, also known as the Yin Market,” Yaoguang explained.

“Ghosts’ own market?” Huo Mingkun was skeptical. “Ghosts can run markets?”

“Why not? Ghosts were once human. If people can trade, why can’t ghosts?” Yaoguang looked at him as if he were hopelessly naive.

“So, we’re going to trade with ghosts?” Huo Mingkun asked. “Is it people trading with ghosts, or ghosts with ghosts?”

“Exactly—trading with ghosts. In this real Ghost Market, it can be human with ghost, or ghost with ghost. But either way, the price is never light. Not just anyone can trade here,” Yaoguang said as she walked on.

Huo Mingkun followed, uncertain how long they walked, until even the faint light behind them vanished. At a crossroads, Yaoguang stopped.

“Stay close to me. Don’t speak unless absolutely necessary,” she reminded him.

“Alright,” Huo Mingkun nodded.

Yaoguang stepped forward a few more paces, and Huo Mingkun noticed a small stall at the intersection. It was unlit and nearly invisible unless you looked closely. Yaoguang walked straight to it and tapped the stall with her finger.

“Where are you coming from?” croaked an ancient, grating voice from behind the stall, so unpleasant it made Huo Mingkun frown.

“From my place of origin,” Yaoguang replied.

“Where are you going?” the voice asked again.

“To my destination,” Yaoguang answered.

“And who are you?” the voice pressed.

“Two wandering souls,” Yaoguang replied.

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“Ah. Here you go, go on in.” Two white paper lanterns were handed out from behind the stall. Huo Mingkun broke out in a cold sweat at the sight—weren’t these the kind of lanterns used for funerals?

Yaoguang took them, handing one to him. Huo Mingkun hesitated, but accepted it obediently. Without a word, Yaoguang led him forward. Curious, Huo Mingkun glanced back at the stall, only for Yaoguang to quickly twist him away. “Don’t look. That’s the gatekeeper ghost. If you see his face, you’ll become a ghost yourself.”

“Why?” Huo Mingkun asked warily.

“He can seize your soul. Let’s go,” Yaoguang said, holding up her lantern as she continued.

Huo Mingkun shivered in terror.

“Sis, what was all that cryptic talk with the gatekeeper ghost? I didn’t understand at all,” Huo Mingkun asked.

“Those are the rules of the Ghost Market—a way to stay alive. You can’t tell him where you’re from, or he might track you down. You can’t say where you’re going, or he might follow. ‘Two wandering souls’ tells him I need two lanterns. Without one, the evil spirits inside will target you. Carry it properly, don’t let it go,” Yaoguang instructed.

“Alright.” Huo Mingkun nodded seriously. He felt like he’d become a fountain of questions tonight, but this place was so mysterious that he simply didn’t understand anything. Fortunately, Sister Phoenix seemed patient and didn’t mind his curiosity. Then again, just how long had she lived to know all this? Best not to ask—Captain Xie had warned him not to, unless he wanted a beating.

“We’re about to enter the Ghost Market. Remember—no matter what happens, do not look back, understand?” Yaoguang warned. “And don’t speak to anyone. If anyone speaks to you, do not answer. If anyone calls your name, ignore it—pretend you didn’t hear. Don’t look at clocks or watches or check the time. Got it?”

“Got it,” Huo Mingkun nodded.

“Heh, look at you—clearly you don’t understand.” Yaoguang laughed. “The rule about not talking is to prevent you from unwittingly agreeing to something you shouldn’t. People might not take promises seriously, but ghosts do. If you agree, you must fulfill it—or face retribution, which isn’t any better than what humans can do. Not turning back is to stop opportunistic ghosts from stealing your vital energy or even possessing you. If you answer when called by name, that ghost will cling to you relentlessly—it won’t leave until it’s stripped you to the bone. Ignoring the time is because it could become the moment of your death. There are many taboos here. If you want to leave alive, you must follow them—or you’ll be trapped here forever. Now do you understand?”

“Yes, yes, I understand,” Huo Mingkun swallowed hard and nodded.

“Good. Let’s go.” Yaoguang led Huo Mingkun deeper into the alley. Unconsciously, Huo Mingkun noticed the air growing cold—chillingly cold. He instinctively hunched his shoulders, and as he glanced down, he saw the lantern in his hand had somehow lit up, casting not a yellow candle glow, but an eerie green light, just like in those old TV dramas. Yaoguang’s lantern glowed the same ghostly green.

“It’s a quiet night, not many here to trade,” Yaoguang remarked casually.

Huo Mingkun shot her a suspicious look—quiet? There wasn’t a single soul here! Wasn’t this just empty?

Yaoguang saw his expression and laughed. “You can’t see—open your Yin-Yang Eyes.”

Huo Mingkun nodded, closed his eyes, and activated his Yin-Yang Eyes. The moment he did, he staggered back in shock. The empty alley was now lined with rows of shops radiating ghostly green light, and there were stalls along the street, each with a shadowy figure behind it. Shadows moved across the street—whether they were human or ghost was impossible to tell.

“Focus your spirit on your eyes, then slowly open them. That way, you can see with your eyes instead of your mind. Otherwise, if you keep looking too long, you’ll exhaust yourself and draw attention. Black-Pupil Yin-Yang Eyes can rival the Heavenly Eye, but the Heavenly Eye must be opened with spiritual focus, while the Yin-Yang Eyes are harder to control. Whether you see or not is up to you. You need to master this power, learn to use it at will. How did you waste such talent? You’re like Duan Yu with his Six Meridian Sword—hopeless.” Yaoguang shook her head. “Come on.”

Huo Mingkun followed her advice. He knew she was right; normally, he couldn’t see these things unless he focused and closed his eyes. Others with Yin-Yang Eyes could see ghosts just by opening their eyes, but his worked more like the Heavenly Eye. Only after Yaoguang’s guidance did he understand how to use them—but his control was still poor, and he always felt dizzy afterward. Gradually adapting to her method, he hurried to keep up.

Yaoguang stopped in front of a two-story building, knocked, and the door opened on its own. She led Huo Mingkun inside. The first floor was empty; she went straight upstairs and entered the first room. The room was dim and sparsely furnished: a low table, a bed, and a large wardrobe. Behind the table sat a figure, head bowed, with long hair concealing their face in the darkness.

“You’ve come. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” The person spoke, their voice hoarse and muffled, like air forced through a blocked vent—so harsh that, compared to this, even the gatekeeper ghost’s voice sounded pleasant.

“Here I am. How have you been?” Yaoguang set down her lantern and took a seat at the table. Huo Mingkun copied her.

“The same as always,” the voice replied.

“Huangquan, you’re still unwilling?” Yaoguang asked.

“What’s the point in being willing or not?” replied the one called Huangquan.

“Stubborn as ever.” Yaoguang took a porcelain vial from her pocket and set it before him, then raised her hand and sent a surge of spiritual energy into him. The figure stirred, slowly raising his head, and Huo Mingkun finally saw his face: gaunt, deathly pale, with clouded eyes—a dried-up, corpse-like visage. Only after receiving Yaoguang’s spiritual energy did a faint glimmer of light appear in his eyes.

“Thank you,” Huangquan said. “Only you still bother to help a useless wretch like me.”

“No need for thanks.” Yaoguang withdrew her hand.

“What do you want this time?” Huangquan asked.

“Golden talisman papers,” Yaoguang replied.

“Hahaha,” Huangquan laughed dryly. “You’re in serious trouble this time, aren’t you?”

“Red robes, blood on the forehead, upright coffin burial—now a vengeful spirit,” Yaoguang said.

“Ah, that’s a tough one. You’ll need gold talismans for that,” Huangquan said. “What will you trade for them?”

“Spirit elixir,” Yaoguang replied, producing a box and opening it to reveal a white pill, glowing faint gold like a luminous pearl.

“Oh…” Huangquan started, then quickly closed the box. “Trading a century-old spirit elixir? You must want more than just gold talismans,” he said, caressing the box with obvious longing.

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“Five gold talisman papers, ten silver ones, top-grade materials for drawing talismans, the finest cinnabar, and I want a ghost core—at least three hundred years old,” Yaoguang said.

“Haha, truly worthy of the Phoenix Deity—never a losing bargain. I can understand the rest, but why do you want a ghost core?” Huangquan asked curiously, glancing at Yaoguang, then noticing Huo Mingkun for the first time. He froze. “Ah, Black-Pupil Yin-Yang Eyes—what a treasure.” He reached out toward Huo Mingkun.

Huo Mingkun recoiled at the sight of that withered, claw-like hand, instinctively hiding behind Yaoguang.

A moment later, Yaoguang slapped the hand aside. “Don’t touch. It’s not yours. Don’t even think about it.”

“What if I do think about it?” Huangquan retorted, a greedy glint in his murky eyes.

“You can try. But if you anger me, you know what happens. Don’t forget, with me, skinning and dismemberment are the least of your worries. Think it over,” Yaoguang said coldly. An oppressive aura radiated from her, making the whole room tremble.

“Alright, alright, I was just joking,” Huangquan said, the greed in his eyes replaced with a hint of fear.

“Glad you understand,” Yaoguang withdrew her spiritual energy.

“Ah, no wonder you want the ghost core. Hahaha, lucky boy,” Huangquan said, standing up. He was tall but stooped, shuffling over to the wardrobe and rummaging around before returning with several items, which he set before Yaoguang.

Huo Mingkun saw that the gold talisman papers were made of gold foil, the silver ones of silver foil. The inkstone was a deep blood-red, and the cinnabar looked as if soaked in blood. Yaoguang didn’t even glance at these but opened a small black box like a ring case, revealing a black pill the size of a soybean, radiating a dark light. She sensed it and said, “A ghost who’s been cultivating for 370 years. Not bad.”

“Are you satisfied?” Huangquan asked.

“Very,” Yaoguang replied, closing the box and tucking it away. She handed the rest of the items to Huo Mingkun to put away, stood, and picked up the lantern. “We’re leaving,” she said, heading out. Huo Mingkun followed suit, picking up his lantern.

“Close your Yin-Yang Eyes and stay close to me,” Yaoguang instructed as they walked briskly away. After a long while, she stopped, took Huo Mingkun’s lantern, and lit it with a lighter. Huo Mingkun noticed that the lantern had become an ordinary paper lantern.

“Let’s go home.” Yaoguang watched the lantern burn to ashes before leading Huo Mingkun out a side street, emerging back at the archway. They got in the car. Once inside, Yaoguang lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag and leaning back, visibly exhausted.

“Sister Phoenix, are you alright?” Huo Mingkun asked cautiously.

“I’m fine. I just don’t like coming to the Ghost Market. It’s dangerous—one misstep, and you’ll never get out, whether you’re human or god. This place is the corner the gods have abandoned, a gathering of all darkness,” Yaoguang said, closing her eyes briefly.

“So why did we come?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“To destroy what’s in that tomb—and for you,” Yaoguang said. “Mostly for you. Even if not for the tomb, I’d still come.”

“For the tomb, I understand. But for me? I don’t quite get it,” Huo Mingkun said, shaking his head in confusion.

“The thing in the tomb can only be suppressed with gold and silver talisman papers. Those can be found elsewhere, but not as pure as these. But the ghost core can only be found here. Your Black-Pupil Yin-Yang Eyes are powerful, but they’re heavy with yin energy. Over time, it’ll drain your vital energy and life force. A three-hundred-year-old ghost core can help neutralize that. With my guidance, your Black-Pupil Yin-Yang Eyes can evolve into Golden Eyes—then you won’t struggle as much as you do now, and your future cultivation won’t be hindered by all this yin energy. If you slack off, I’ll deal with you personally—I traded a century-old spirit elixir for you, you know. Refining those is no easy feat. I don’t have many,” Yaoguang said.

“I won’t slack off, I promise. Thank you, Sister Phoenix.” Huo Mingkun was moved; he hadn’t expected her to care so much about him.

“No need for thanks, silly boy,” Yaoguang said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder.

“Hey, sis, was that Huangquan just now a human or a ghost?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“He’s neither human nor ghost. He’s become a monster—neither human, nor ghost, nor celestial, nor demon, nor god, nor yokai. He’s a pitiful soul. He was once a deity of the Asura Realm, but fell because of a demoness. The Asura Realm hunted him as a traitor. For her sake, he fled everywhere, only to discover she wanted his spiritual essence. After she got it, she tried to kill him. I happened to save him and reclaimed his essence, but it had already been tainted. He could purify it with proper cultivation, but he lost heart and, after punishment from the Asura Realm, hid in the Ghost Market, never leaving again. Once, he was a master of the Daoist Mountain Sect, skilled in talismans and exorcism, but he fixated on the wrong path. Even after ascending, his lack of virtue landed him in the Asura Realm. He could have lived well there, but he let himself be ruined by love. The Asura Realm stripped him of his divine tendons and bones, cursed him, and now he lives like this—neither quite living nor dead, clinging to memories of a love that destroyed him. What a pity. He was handsome and dashing once, truly a romantic figure. What a waste.”

“Then, the porcelain vial you gave him?” Huo Mingkun asked. “Was that part of the trade?”

“No. That’s medicine for his illness. The Asura curse flares up every ten years—he relives the pain of having his tendons torn and bones removed. The medicine just eases his suffering a little.”

“One last question, sis—what is a ghost core?” Huo Mingkun asked.

“It’s the crystallized essence left when a ghost immortal dies. After death, some evil people can’t reincarnate, but if they repent and cultivate in the Underworld, they can become ghost immortals. To achieve true transcendence, ghost immortals undergo even harsher trials. If they fail, all their cultivation condenses into a ghost core when they die. The 370 years refers to its cultivation age. Since your Black-Pupil Yin-Yang Eyes carry such heavy yin energy, only a ghost core aged between three and four hundred years will work—too young, and it’s useless; too old, and it’s too much. They’re hard to come by, and only the Ghost Market has them. After all, they’re formed from the darkest energies,” Yaoguang explained.

“Sis, I’ve turned into a hundred-thousand-question machine tonight. I hope you’re not annoyed.”

“Not at all. I used to have even more questions than you,” Yaoguang said, taking a deep breath. “Enough talk—it’s late. We need to get back. Tomorrow, we’ll meet an expert to make those talismans. I’m not sure how much longer Professor Zhou can hold out. That vengeful spirit is no ordinary thing.” As she spoke, the car sped off into the night.

Huo Mingkun looked at the setting moon. This bizarre night was finally coming to an end.