Chapter 145: Stirring of the Heart

A fierce gale struck, accompanied by an extremely high-pitched, wailing sound that rang in the ear instantly, threatening to crash heavily against the back of Chen Jianchen's head.

Thud!

However, faster than the lantern was the *True Chapters of the Three Attainments*.

The scroll, resembling a massive painting or a banner fluttering in the wind, suddenly materialized and unfurled in the narrow gap between the lantern and Chen Jianchen.

When the lantern collided with the scroll, it was like a fish swimming into a net, unable to escape even if it wanted to. Under the illumination of the characters, it was instantly reduced to ashes, melting like boiling water poured over snow, without the slightest effort.

The pupils of Hou Qing, hidden within the black fog, suddenly contracted. The moment the *True Chapters of the Three Attainments* appeared, even his soul quaked with terror, as if sensing a catastrophic danger. In his eyes, beneath the unfurled scroll, Chen Jianchen—wielding the Sword of Haoran Self-Nurturing—became increasingly unfathomable. Such a scholar was unprecedented in his entire life.

The black fog grew progressively denser and billowed outward, until it eventually shrouded nearly the entire peak of Pen-Rack Mountain, rendering it pitch black and impossible to see one's hand before one's face. Yet these dark vapors were utterly unable to breach within a radius of ten feet around Chen Jianchen, being completely repelled by the brilliant radiance of the characters.

Wishing to avoid a battle, are you...

Chen Jianchen deduced Hou Qing's intentions, but he made no rash moves. After all, this was the opponent's home turf; there was no need to court danger needlessly. Besides, the truly good show was yet to come.

Thus, he narrowed his eyes slightly, shifted his will, and simultaneously withdrew from the Underworld, allowing his soul to return to his physical body.

As soul and flesh reunited, Chen Jianchen slowly opened his eyes to the sound of pattering rain outside. Xi Fangping stood with his hands clasped behind his back, watching the rain, his slender figure looking somewhat bewildered.

Chen Jianchen stretched lazily. His maiden journey into the Underworld had offered a fresh and thrilling sensation; after all, it was an entirely new realm, a place barely known to the living.

It was tantamount to another dimension.

He could feel that the world into which he had transmigrated was gradually opening all its secrets to him, much like a graceful maiden beginning to shed the veils from her body...

"Brother Chen, you have returned as well." Xi Fangping turned his head, his eyes unexpectedly bright.

This scholar, who had been self-taught while herding cattle, appeared exceptionally resolute at this moment. This excursion into the Underworld had undoubtedly delivered a subversive shock to his worldview. Previously, his willingness to follow and witness the truth was primarily driven by anxiety over his father's plight. Only upon truly entering the Underworld did he suddenly realize that the world he had lived in for over twenty years was far from simple.

"The Master did not speak of ghosts, spirits, and anomalies" did not mean that ghosts, spirits, and anomalies did not exist, but merely that he chose not to dwell on them. However, knowing they existed intellectually was one thing, while coming into close personal contact with them was entirely another.

Chen Jianchen looked at him and asked, "Brother Xi, are you holding up alright?"

Xi Fangping nodded, then suddenly asked, "Brother Chen, why are you helping me?"

Sometimes, the reason for helping someone begins with a mere passing thought; yet at other times, it is a thought that lingers enduringly... After witnessing Chen Jianchen's performance in the Hall of Records, Xi Fangping was left not only deeply astonished, but also besieged by countless puzzles.

Chen Jianchen walked over to the edge of the tea shed, looked out at the ink-black night shrouded in driving wind and rain, and said leisurely, "I once heard a teacher say: *'The sound of wind, the sound of rain, the sound of reading—let all reach the ear; affairs of the family, affairs of the state, affairs of the world—let all claim concern.'* Perhaps that is the reason."

His original intention had been to accept the entreaty of the River God Ding Yin, yet after interacting with Xi Fangping, he felt that even without Ding Yin's plea, he would still have intervened at least once.

This was, at its core, the central tenet of the *True Chapters of the Three Attainments*—to strive not for greatness, but for righteousness; to accept that things may not always go as wished, yet remain free of any pangs of conscience.

Upon hearing this, Xi Fangping clapped his hands in praise. "What a wonderful phrase: *'The sound of wind, the sound of rain, the sound of reading—let all reach the ear; affairs of the family, affairs of the state, affairs of the world—let all claim concern.'* It truly voices the innermost thoughts of scholars like us! Brother Chen, I, Fangping, bow to you here."

With that, he bowed deeply.

Chen Jianchen hurriedly helped him up and chuckled, "Brother Xi is too formal."

Xi Fangping said in a ringing voice, "This bow is for nothing else, save that Brother Chen is willing to seek redress for my father."

Turning to the matter at hand, Chen Jianchen said, "The Mountain Deity of Pen-Rack Mountain is deceitful. Our efforts tonight were in vain, and we did not see your father. To clear his name, we must proceed directly to the City God of Jiangzhou Prefecture to lodge our appeal."

Xi Fangping's father had been subjected to a personal grudge by a ghost official surnamed Yang, who had illicitly dragged his soul into the prison on Pen-Rack Mountain in the Underworld. Judging from the present situation, it remained unknown whether that ghost official surnamed Yang had been slain by the characters just moments ago, but that was not the crucial point. The primary objective was to rescue Xi Fangping's soul-father in a timely manner. Once the soul was returned to the mortal body, his father would still have a glimmer of survival.

However, it was uncertain what manner of treatment his father's detained soul had already suffered. According to Ding Yin, when ghost officials acted in the shadows to commit evil, forcibly dragging the souls of mortals into the Underworld realm, it constituted a severe violation of major laws. If uncovered later, the punishment would be catastrophic, casting them into the eighteenth level of hell to suffer eternally without hope of reincarnation.

Therefore, the ghost officials dared not simply beat a person to death outright; instead, they subjected them to a round of torture and torment first. Meanwhile, in the mortal realm, if the relatives were ignorant of the reasons, they would enshroud and bury the corpse once the traditional "first seven days" mourning period had passed. By that time, all vital breath would be utterly severed, and the soul would automatically lose its independent consciousness, degenerating into a wisp of dark ghost-vapor with not a trace left behind. Thus, the ghost officials could pull off their deception and avoid ever having to answer for past crimes.

The "first seven days" was also the absolute limit that a soul could endure.

Such vile tactics were tried and tested, destroying countless innocent lives. From this, it was clear that the Underworld's ghost officials were cut from the exact same cloth as the runners in mortal yamen—they were supreme masters of dark and crooked arts.

One must realize that in any era, whether in the realm of the living or the dead, law enforcement officers who subverted the law were always the most terrifying of all.

As someone who had transmigrated and seen much, Chen Jianchen was naturally deeply aware of these underlying truths.

Hearing that there was still hope of saving his father's life, Xi Fangping sprang to his feet and urged, "Brother Chen, there is no time to lose. We should descend the mountain this very night."

Time was indeed pressing. Yet no matter how pressing, one must not lose their composure. Chen Jianchen pondered for a moment, then shook his head. "We cannot. The wind and rain show no sign of stopping, the mountain paths are muddy, and descending now would be perilous. Besides, even if we managed to descend, what then? In the dead of night, we would find no carriages for hire. We might as well rest here and recover our spirits first."

At his current stage, his realm of establishing words had achieved great completion, and his righteous energy was abundant. As long as he used it with restraint, the consumption would not be excessive, unlike the past when writing just a few characters imbued with righteous energy would leave him drenched in sweat and utterly exhausted. In short, he had traded his bird-gun for a cannon; his tier had elevated.

Hearing this, Xi Fangping thought it over and realized it made absolute sense, so he agreed.

The two of them immediately tidied up the tea shed, clearing a clean and dry space where they could half-lie down to rest.

By this time, the two incense sticks burned to ward off the crowing of chickens had completely burned down and extinguished themselves.

Resting atop Pen-Rack Mountain, Chen Jianchen remained cautious. He retrieved the Four Treasures of the Study, had Xi Fangping strike a flint to ignite a fire, and consecutively wrote three scrolls imbued with righteous energy—specifically the characters for "Suppress", "Calendric-Peace" (or rather, "Calm/Atonement" / *Wait, the source says 镇、定、逐 - Suppress, Pacify, Expel*).

Since formally achieving establishment of words, Chen Jianchen had discovered another pattern: the characters he wrote imbued with righteous energy could not be written haphazardly. If he scribbled nonsense—such as "dog shit", "zi-huo-zhe-ye" (classical filler words), or other terms devoid of coherent relative meaning—then no matter how much force he exerted, the righteous energy contained between the strokes would be minimal, drastically diminishing the effect.

He had his own understanding of this: To establish words is to establish words; not just any speech can be established. The principle was much like the essays and poems written by the ancients—if they were mere chaff, they would have long been eliminated by time; only those that could be passed down through the ages and recited across generations were profound and alert expressions capable of withstanding the test of time and achieving immortality through words.

Similarly, the Buddhist concept of "words manifesting into law" shared a parallel logic: one could not simply utter idle chatter and expect laws to manifest; rather, there were strict prescriptions for the exact wording.

Therefore, when wielding his brush to channel righteous energy, Chen Jianchen's most favored and smoothly utilized characters were invariably "Suppress" and "Pacify".

Gazing upon the three large scrolls, although the writing was not exceptionally refined due to the adverse environment, the genuine intent within them poured forth with rich resonance, sufficient to overshadow any technical flaws in calligraphy. Xi Fangping sighed from the bottom of his heart, "Fine characters, truly fine characters." As a scholar himself, he naturally had his own studies in calligraphy. Upon seeing fine writing produced by another, his hunter's instinct for beauty was instantly aroused, and he easily became immersed in it.

Chen Jianchen smiled and proceeded to paste the three scrolls onto the surrounding surfaces where they could be posted.

Xi Fangping felt deeply curious. "Brother Chen, why are you doing this?"

Chen Jianchen replied, "To guard against the unforeseen."

Xi Fangping was startled. Guard against the unforeseen? Merely pasting three written scrolls could guard against the unforeseen? Guard against what? What kind of logic was this?

A flurry of heavy doubts swirled around him and refused to dissipate. However, seeing that Chen Jianchen had no intention of offering a lengthy explanation, he tactfully kept his mouth shut and asked no further. After all, during their time in the Underworld's Pen-Rack Mountain, Chen Jianchen's performance had been nothing short of earth-shattering, and his methods were endlessly resourceful; he merely needed to follow his lead. Everyone had their own secrets; prying into them was not only impolite, but also prone to courting taboos.

Having settled everything, the two closed their eyes to rest.

With the wind and rain pattering softly outside, Xi Fangping's emotions drifted, remaining turbulent for a long time and making it impossible for him to fall asleep. He was merely a law-abiding scholar who desired only to make an honest living, advance his studies, and support his aging father so the old man would have someone to lean upon in his twilight years. Never had he expected an unprovoked disaster to strike; simply because of an old grievance, his father had been subjected to cruel victimization.

Why on earth did all of this happen?

A heavy wave of doubt welled up within Xi Fangping.

After who knows how long, the sound of wind and rain seemed to grow softer, drifting further away. His eyelids grew increasingly heavy, and he finally drifted into dreamland.

Swish. Suddenly, a figure appeared in his dream—a face glowing a fiery red. Wasn't that none other than the Mountain Deity of Pen-Rack Mountain?

With a wave of the deity's hand, an iron-barred prison materialized on the spot. Lying beneath the eaves of the prison was a man with hair as white as snow—his father! It was his father!

Xi Fangping lunged forward and saw that his father was wearing white prisoner's robes, his entire body covered in bloodstains and looking utterly wretched. Seeing his son, the elder Xi raised his eyes and burst into tears. "My son Fangping, the ghost officials are cruel, hauling me away day and night. Your father's shins and thighs have been utterly ravaged by torture."

Just as Xi Fangping opened his mouth to speak, the Mountain Deity waved his hand once more, and the prison vanished without a trace.

"If you promise this Mountain Deity not to lodge an appeal before the City God, not only will I release your father's soul to return home, but I will also bestow upon you endless wealth and glory. How about it?"

Listening to this, Xi Fangping felt deeply tempted, a vague urge rising within him to blurt out his consent—after all, wasn't rescuing his father from prison his ultimate goal?!