Chapter 4: The Phantom

Jiang Wenxin hurried to press the buttons for basement levels minus one and minus two as the elevator doors closed, but then hesitated halfway.

Though she didn’t know Shen Siyuan personally, she knew he was an employee at Radiant Animation and often encountered him at the company, so she wasn’t worried about not finding him.

Her foremost concern now was the daughter in her arms. A flood of questions filled her heart, and she longed to ask the little one nestled close.

“Dou Dou, you…” Jiang Wenxin opened her mouth but found herself at a loss for words.

After a moment’s thought, she gently asked, “Dou Dou, these past two years and more, have you been by Mommy’s side all along?”

“Hehe~ and Daddy too,” Dou Dou rubbed her eyes, smiling brightly.

But then, with a hint of sorrow, she added, “But you both can’t hear me or see me.”

“I’m sorry, Mommy was at fault,” Jiang Wenxin murmured, stroking the child’s small face, her heart aching.

At three years old, Dou Dou’s speech was not yet fully coherent, somewhat tangled, but Jiang Wenxin, as her mother, despite the years apart, carried a deep, instinctive love and understanding etched into her very bones.

With gentle guidance, she quickly pieced together what had happened.

“I drank so much water, I couldn’t take anymore. My belly was about to burst, and seawater was so awful to drink...” Dou Dou patted her small tummy, frowning as if still recalling the pain.

“Then suddenly I stopped swelling and felt light as a feather. I quickly swam up from the sea. Mommy, I was so amazing then, zoom zoom zoom... like a little sea turtle...” Dou Dou waved her arms excitedly. She said she resembled a little sea turtle because the family had once raised one and even released it into the ocean together.

“When I reached the beach... there were so many policemen... but you couldn’t see me. I even saw Mommy crying so sadly. I tried to comfort you, kissed you, but you couldn’t hear or see me. I was so heartbroken...”

Dou Dou had drowned. Binhai was a coastal city, so summer trips to the beach were common.

Dou Dou had gone with her grandparents to the seaside, but an accident swept her away in the waves.

Jiang Wenxin had fallen gravely ill and, upon recovery, was consumed by guilt.

Dou Dou had always been in her care, but that day, due to an urgent matter and the grandparents’ longing for their granddaughter, Jiang Wenxin had left Dou Dou with them for a day—never imagining such a tragedy would strike in just that one day.

Her husband, worried she would fall into depression staying at home, arranged through relatives a light job for her.

Sure enough, after returning to work, Jiang Wenxin gradually emerged from her grief.

“Mommy, I was such a good baby, always following you quietly or waiting at home alone until you came back from work...” Dou Dou’s voice held a mix of pride and sadness.

Hearing this, Jiang Wenxin hugged her tightly, pain and tenderness mingling, then stepped out of the elevator.

The basement level three was brightly lit, not dark at all. Yet each day after work, walking alone in this silent space made Jiang Wenxin nervous, quickening her pace instinctively.

Today, however, she felt no fear; instead, she wished she could walk slower, linger longer.

“Mommy~”

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Can you walk slower from now on, like you are now?” Dou Dou waved her little hands.

“Why? Mommy usually doesn’t walk fast.”

“No, you do, hmm...” Dou Dou tilted her head, thinking, utterly adorable.

“One time we went shopping together, but you walked too fast and I lost you. But I was smart—I didn’t run around, just stayed put waiting for you. But... but...” Dou Dou’s small lips pouted, full of grievance.

“But I waited for such a long, long time...” she spread her tiny arms wide.

Jiang Wenxin’s heart ached deeply; it seemed she had lost her daughter again, though the little one had been wise to stay in one place waiting.

Still, the thought of leaving her alone, waiting in loneliness, pricked her heart like a thousand needles.

“Some uncles and aunts said they could take me to find you, but Daddy said not to go with strangers, so I stayed waiting for you. But... but Mommy, I waited so long, I was so anxious, so please don’t walk too fast anymore...”

Jiang Wenxin caught a troubling note in her words and asked, “What uncles and aunts?”

“The ones who also died like me,” Dou Dou said innocently.

So Dou Dou already knew—she too was dead.

Jiang Wenxin’s heart jolted. If that was so, then this world must be full of ghosts.

Did the dead all roam the earthly realm? Shouldn’t they go to heaven? No, this was the Great Summer Empire; they should return to the Underworld.

---

Shen Siyuan witnessed an unbelievable scene.

Outside, ghosts wandered everywhere—some pacing beneath streetlamps, others strolling along the roads, some lingering outside shops...

Humans didn’t avoid ghosts, and ghosts didn’t avoid humans. They existed distinctly apart, neither interfering with the other.

Watching this, Shen Siyuan felt tempted to unleash the Ten Thousand Souls Banner and capture all these restless spirits at once.

Unfortunately, the banner was shattered and mostly powerless now. Such a vast soul capture was impossible at present, and besides, he was not a demonic cultivator capable of such ruthless deeds.

Moreover, having just acquired new opportunities, he didn’t fully understand this world yet, so caution was prudent.

Shen Siyuan exited the building to the parking lot and found his electric scooter, all the while observing the wandering souls.

This realm was strange—utterly devoid of spiritual energy, yet ghosts existed.

These spirits seemed chaotic but actually followed their own set of behavioral codes.

Humans couldn’t see ghosts, and ghosts couldn’t affect humans; in fact, humans’ Three Fires could even harm spirits.

Only when a person’s luck declined, and their Three Fires dimmed, might they be haunted. Though no real harm came to them, misfortune and bad luck would follow.

The Three Fires referred to the fire at the crown of the head and the fires at both shoulders. The stronger the person, the more vigorous these fires. Except for close family, ghosts tended to avoid humans.

Thus, humans and ghosts remained clearly distinct and uninvolved with one another.

This was somewhat similar to the Great Wilderness, which had realms like the Underworld, Hell, the Pure Land, the Divine Kingdom, Heaven, and the Vacuous Homeland—each with its own destination.

But the ghosts of this world seemed to have no resting place, wandering endlessly.

And because the world’s energy was turbid, no ferocious or malevolent spirits were born. This balance allowed peaceful coexistence between humans and ghosts.

However, Shen Siyuan noticed some ghosts would dissolve into particles and vanish without any guiding force; they simply disappeared.

Watching these souls drift along the street, Shen Siyuan felt as if he had forgotten something important.