The bluestone road stretched endlessly beneath the bicycle's wheels.
Chen Mo had thought he would be afraid.
But the "whooo, whooo" of the netherfire engine sounded like the low moan of some ancient creature, and instead it calmed him down in a strange way. Wind howled past his ears, carrying an indescribable scent—like ashes from burning spirit money, mixed with the sour sweetness of moss after rain.
[Navigation activated.]
[Distance to destination: the River of Forgetfulness riverbank. Forty-seven li remaining.]
[Estimated arrival time: two ke.]
[Friendly reminder: You are entering the Lost Souls Ridge section ahead. Hungry ghosts are frequently sighted in this area. Host, please maintain your speed and do not stop.]
Chen Mo tightened his grip on the handlebars.
The wooden crate bounced against his back, producing dull thuds. He didn't dare look behind him, afraid that if he did, he would discover something inside the crate was moving.
The scenery on both sides of the road began to change.
The city's neon lights vanished completely.
In their place was an endless wasteland. There was no grass and no trees, only gray-black gravel covering the earth and stretching all the way to the horizon. A blood-red moon hung in the sky, unnervingly huge, as if he could reach out and touch it.
Intermittent sobbing drifted over from the distance.
It wasn't one person crying. It was thousands upon thousands of voices layered together—men and women, old and young. The sound seemed to have a physical form, winding strand by strand around Chen Mo's ankles and trying to drag him off the bicycle.
"Get lost."
Chen Mo shouted without thinking.
The instant his voice fell, the bronze token in his palm grew faintly hot. A pale golden halo spread out from his body, and the sobbing that had wound around him shrieked and recoiled as if burned.
[Yin-Merit Protection activated.]
[Current yin merit: 1 point.]
[Note: Negative yin merit will attract high-level evil entities.]
Chen Mo lowered his head and glanced at the token.
"This thing can protect me too?"
[Three Realms couriers are legitimate professions recognized by Heaven's Will and protected by the laws of the Three Realms. However, host, please do not court death. The protection offered by the laws has limits.]
"...Thanks for the warning."
The bicycle continued forward.
The outline of Lost Souls Ridge gradually grew clearer ahead. It wasn't a mountain, but a barrier formed from countless enormous stone tablets piled atop one another. Every tablet was densely carved with names. When the wind passed through, the stone tablets gave off a deep hum, as if reciting some ancient incantation.
Chen Mo's Yin-Yang Eyes took effect at that moment.
He saw them.
Behind the stone tablets, countless translucent figures wandered slowly. Their clothes were ragged, their faces indistinct. Some were missing arms; others were missing half their faces. They had caught the scent of a living person, and all of them turned their heads at once.
Thousands upon thousands of hollow eyes stared at Chen Mo simultaneously.
Cold sweat instantly soaked Chen Mo's back.
He stomped hard on the pedals.
The netherfire engine let out a roar. The bicycle's speed suddenly surged, transforming into a ghostly blue afterimage as it charged into Lost Souls Ridge. The hungry ghosts pounced, only to be burned by the netherfire kicked up by the wheels, and they let out shrill, miserable screams.
One hungry ghost's hand nearly grabbed the wooden crate.
Chen Mo wrenched the handlebars. The bicycle tilted forty-five degrees and squeezed through the gap between two stone tablets by the narrowest of margins.
"Holy crap—"
[Warning: Package integrity has fallen to 97%.]
[Please safeguard the cargo properly, host. If the damage rate exceeds 30%, this month's performance rating will be deducted.]
"You have performance reviews too?!"
[Three Realms Express: Mission accomplished, no matter what. An organization without a KPI is not a good organization.]
Chen Mo was speechless.
All he could do was hug the wooden crate tighter against his chest, hunch over, and weave between the stone tablets like a cannonball.
At last, a sliver of reflected water appeared at the end of Lost Souls Ridge.
It was the River of Forgetfulness.
The river water wasn't transparent. It was a thick color somewhere between inky green and pitch-black. The surface was perfectly still, like a mirror, yet bubbles constantly rose from the depths. When they burst, they made tiny "pop, pop" sounds, as if someone were sighing at the bottom of the river.
A crude thatched shelter stood on the riverbank.
A large pot sat beneath it, the soup inside boiling and giving off a smell impossible to tell apart as fragrant or foul. A hunched figure stood beside the pot, slowly stirring it with a ladle.
The figure wore a coarse cloth garment washed nearly white. Her hair was as white as snow and fell to her waist.
Hearing the sound of the bicycle, she slowly turned around.
Chen Mo slammed on the brakes.
The wheels carved two ghostly blue tracks in the sand, and he nearly fell into the river, bicycle, crate, and all.
"Meng... Meng Po?"
The old woman raised her head.
Chen Mo froze.
He had assumed Meng Po would be a sinister, terrifying old woman covered in wrinkles. But although the woman before him had a head of white hair, her face was astonishingly young. Her skin was fair, her brows and eyes gentle, and she looked like the friendly big sister next door who had only just turned thirty.
It was her eyes.
Those eyes were far too old.
Old like they had witnessed countless cycles of reincarnation. Old like the river water that had settled for millions upon millions of years.
"A new courier?"
Meng Po's voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.
Chen Mo hurried off the bicycle and held the wooden crate out with both hands.
"Your delivery. Please accept delivery."
Meng Po glanced at the label on the crate, the corners of her mouth lifting slightly.
"Old King Qin finally decided to send it."
She took the wooden crate but didn't rush to open it. Instead, she pulled a small porcelain bottle from inside her robes and handed it to Chen Mo.
"A runner's fee."
Chen Mo paused.
"The system didn't say anything about a runner's fee..."
"The system is the system. Rules are rules." Meng Po shoved the porcelain bottle into his hand. "Take it. The wind by the River of Forgetfulness is strong. Staying here too long will damage a living person's soul. This will protect you for three shichen."
Chen Mo looked down at the porcelain bottle.
A small label was stuck to it. Three words were written on it—
"Meng Po's Soup: Sample Edition."
"...Sample Edition?"
"The real thing makes you forget. This won't." Meng Po had already turned around to open the wooden crate. "It'll just help you sleep well and, while it's at it... let you see some things you ought to see."
The instant the wooden crate opened, a beam of golden light shot into the sky.
The radiance was so bright that Chen Mo couldn't keep his eyes open. He only heard Meng Po let out a soft "Huh?" with a hint of surprise in her voice.
"These aren't ordinary soup ingredients..."
The light faded.
Chen Mo managed to open his eyes and saw a fist-sized stone lying inside the wooden crate.
The stone was pitch-black all over, its surface covered in fine cracks. Faint golden liquid flowed within those cracks. It lay there quietly, yet it gave Chen Mo an inexplicable sense of familiarity.
As if... he had seen it somewhere before.
"A Three-Lives Stone Fragment."
Meng Po's voice turned solemn.
"King Qin Guang, that old bastard, actually sent this to me..."
She looked up at Chen Mo, a complicated emotion flashing through those far-too-old eyes.
"Kid, what's your name?"
"Chen Mo."
"Chen Mo..." Meng Po murmured, repeating it once. Then she suddenly smiled. "Good name. Silence is golden, but in the Three Realms, gold is the most worthless thing there is."
She put away the Three-Lives Stone Fragment, then drew a calligraphy brush from her sleeve and marked the wooden crate's label with a strange symbol.
"Delivery accepted."
[Mission complete: Nether River Delivery.]
[Rewards received: 100 nether coins, +1 yin merit, 1 skill draw.]
[Bonus reward: Meng Po favorability +5 (current relationship: slightly favorable).]
[Warning: Host has come into contact with a Three-Lives Stone Fragment. Karmic thread has fluctuated.]
[Warning: An unknown faction has become aware of the host's existence.]
Before Chen Mo could examine the system notifications in detail, Meng Po suddenly spoke:
"Chen Mo, come find me again after you've delivered a thousand packages."
"Why?"
Meng Po didn't answer.
She turned and resumed stirring the large pot, her back appearing especially lonely amid the mist over the River of Forgetfulness.
"You'll know when the time comes."
"Some soups aren't meant for just anyone to drink."
Chen Mo stood where he was, holding the bottle of Sample Edition Meng Po's Soup, an indescribable feeling welling up inside him.
He faintly realized that this job was far more complicated than he had imagined.
And that Three-Lives Stone Fragment seemed to have some inexplicable connection to him.
"I'm leaving."
Meng Po waved a hand as if shooing away a fly.
"Be careful on the way back. The River of Forgetfulness hasn't been peaceful lately. Something has crawled up from the bottom."
Before her words had even finished, the surface of the river suddenly began to churn.
A deathly pale hand slowly reached out from the pitch-black water and grabbed hold of a stone on the bank.