At midnight, outside the southern city of Mingzhou, the moonlight, like water, spilled onto the mountain path, casting several blurry shadows.

Five Mingzhou garrison soldiers walked slowly along this gloomy path. The captain's face was as somber as the moonlight, and his heart was filled with unease.

Recent rumors of underworld officials committing murders are terrifying, and his nighttime patrols are particularly chilling.

"Everyone be careful, don't attract any ghost messengers," the captain whispered a reminder, his tone tinged with tension.

The brothers behind him nodded in unison, their expressions tense, afraid that something might happen.

"Brother, let's spend some money tomorrow and rotate our garrison to the city wall. Patrolling is too scary," a young soldier whispered, his eyes flashing with fear.

“I also want to change shifts, but the brothers in the army are all trying to avoid patrols outside the city. Changing shifts to the city wall costs five taels of silver, which is no small amount. We simply can’t afford it.” The captain’s voice was filled with helplessness, his brows were furrowed, and he was secretly anxious.

As they were talking, two leaf-like objects suddenly floated down from the sky. The captain instinctively reached out and grabbed them, and upon closer inspection, he realized they were paper money!

Holy crap!

He exclaimed, his voice piercing the night air, startling his brothers who rushed forward to check on him.

"This...this is ghost money!"

A soldier stammered, his face turning deathly pale as if he had seen a ghost.

A chill ran through the group; the air around them seemed to turn icy cold, sending shivers down their spines.

Just then, a gentle breeze suddenly arose, and the leaves rustled in the wind as if whispering secrets.

The group looked up, their gazes drawn to the strange phenomenon in the woods. They saw countless pieces of paper money fluttering in the wind, like whispers of souls, swirling in the night sky like a ghostly dance.

"Quickly, go back!"

The captain's voice became urgent, and a sense of panic rose in his heart, as if some invisible force was approaching.

Just as they were about to turn and leave, Yan Shiyu and two of his men rushed out from the shadows. They were dressed in deathly white robes, and huge cloaks covered their faces, making them look like ghosts who had come from hell.

Three people blocked their way from three directions. The five people were so frightened that their hair stood on end, and they huddled together, trembling and leaning on each other.

Yan Shiyu reached behind his back, pulled out a handful of paper money, and casually tossed it into the air.

Paper money fluttered in the air, like an omen of death.

He strode toward the five people. Yan Shiyu was already as light as a swallow, and his footsteps were almost silent, which made his gait seem even more eerie and terrifying.

Approaching the five people, Yan Shiyu mimicked Chen Zhennan's earlier voice and said, "You five have reached the end of your lifespan. If you don't want to be boiled in oil, come with me. Otherwise, I will send you to the Hell of Tongue-Pulling."

Upon hearing this, the four soldiers, excluding the captain, were instantly struck dumb. Their faces showed terror, tears welled up in their eyes, and they all knelt down on the ground, begging in trembling voices, "Lord Underworld Messenger, spare our lives! Spare our lives!"

Yan Shiyu's face showed no pity, his eyes were as sharp as a knife.

He slowly reached behind him and drew a long sword. The blade gleamed coldly in the moonlight, like a messenger of death, instantly pushing the atmosphere of fear to a climax.

At this moment, the two soldiers had lost control of their bladders, their faces were ashen, and they were in a daze, like discarded scarecrows, having lost their last shred of dignity.

Yan Shiyu pointed his long sword into the depths of the forest, then gestured for the five men to stand up. Driven by fear, the five soldiers slowly rose, their legs feeling like lead, and struggled to move into the darkness.

The five people were taken away by Yan Shiyu aimlessly, leaving behind only pieces of joss paper on the ground.

...

Yan Shiyu dispersed his men, who moved like ghosts through the mountains and forests of Lingnan. Over five days, they transformed into phantoms, capturing soldiers who patrolled outside the city.

Chen Zhennan secretly searched for six or seven huge caves, which were originally the habitat of bears. Chen Zhennan drove all the bears out and stuffed the more than 500 people that Yan Shiyu had captured into these caves.

During the day, sunlight cannot penetrate the thick stone slabs, and the cave entrance is tightly blocked, shutting out all sunlight.

The people inside the cave huddled in the darkness, relying only on each other's breathing and the occasional cry to confirm their existence.

As soon as night fell, Chen Zhennan would order his men to open the cave entrance, letting the cold moonlight stream into the cave, accompanied by their fear and unease.

Every night, Chen Zhennan would have some of them taken away and moved to the depths of the mountains, while the remaining people in the cave fell into even deeper panic.

They whispered among themselves, each wondering if they would be the next to be taken away, and all were plunged into despair.

"Do you think those people who were taken away really went to the underworld?"

"Who knows? Maybe we're all already dead, and now we're just suffering in hell."

The only sound in the cave was these desperate whispers; there was no other noise.

The people living in the cave never saw the light of day, spending every day in darkness, and their spirits were on the verge of collapse.

Their faces were pale, their eyes were bloodshot, and some even began to hallucinate, seeing all sorts of terrifying visions in the darkness, as if the messengers of the underworld were beckoning to them.

...

On the city wall of Mingzhou, Zhao Xiong stood looking at the distant mountains and forests, his face full of melancholy.

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