After Mo Lin departed from Jin Temple alongside Wang Bing and Sun Qian, all the individuals of authority within the temple gathered in Li Hui's private chamber.
"Master Li," one of them inquired, "why were you so courteous to that young rascal?"
"When the person who sold the ghost envoy returns to claim payment, do you truly intend to notify Mo Lin?"
"Surely it's not worth disrupting the rules of Jin Temple for the sake of one boy?"
A cacophony of voices rose in discontent as they each voiced their confusion.
At last, the long-silent Li Hui opened his mouth to speak.
"Did any of you manage to summon your contract ghosts just now?"
"No…"
"I found it strange too—why did nothing happen when I tried to summon mine?"
"But why?" they asked in unison, puzzled by their earlier failure to connect with their bonded spirits during their confrontation with Mo Lin.
"It's not that you couldn't summon them," Li Hui said, his voice calm and grim, "it's that they didn't dare show themselves. They were afraid."
A stunned silence fell over the room.
"What?"
"That's impossible."
"Ghosts… afraid?"
The instinctive reaction was disbelief. Contract ghosts, afraid of humans? It was ludicrous.
"Afraid of whom? Mo Lin? That's absurd," Qing Yun said, frowning in confusion.
Ghosts fearing mortals—was this some kind of joke?
"Yes," Li Hui confirmed quietly. "They feared him."
No one dared speak. Had anyone else spoken these words, they might have been dismissed outright. But this was Li Hui, the most revered elder of Jin Temple. His words carried undeniable weight.
"In any case," he continued, his tone now severe, "do not provoke him. You cannot afford to."
"…Understood," came the collective murmur of assent.
…
After leaving Jin Temple, Qian Yun followed closely behind Mo Lin.
"Brother Mo… about what you said earlier—helping me capture a ghost—do you still mean it?"
"I do," Mo Lin replied evenly. "Once Wang Bing and I retrieve the ghost envoy from his home, I'll assist you in capturing a ghost of the 'menacing' grade."
His promise was never one made lightly.
"Okay!" Qian Yun's face lit up with uncontainable joy. At last, she was going to possess a contract ghost of her own—and not just any ghost, but a menacing-grade one. Her heart pounded with anticipation.
Wang Bing drove them back to his family estate to retrieve the ghost envoy, and Qian Yun accompanied them.
The journey was swift; within twenty minutes, they had reached the western suburbs. The Wang residence stood tall—a spacious villa nestled among trees.
As they stepped out of the car, a commotion could be heard from within the estate.
A young man in a crimson jacket had just exited the Wang home, engaged in animated conversation with the family patriarch.
This man, known as Brother Long, bore a tattoo upon his arm, wore an earring, and had bleached yellow hair. He was a Grade-Four Ghost Manipulator—one of the most formidable figures in all of Yunchuan.
"I'll leave the arrangements for the school in your capable hands," Long Huo said with a casual smile.
"You have my word, Young Master Long," Wang Haibei replied earnestly. "Whatever you entrust to me, I will see it done."
When a Grade-Four Ghost Manipulator requested a favor, it was as good as a command. This particular task was a charitable one: the establishment of a school for underprivileged children. An undeniably noble endeavor.
"You are truly a man of great compassion," Wang Haibei praised.
"It's nothing—just a minor act of goodwill," Long Huo responded humbly.
Just then, Wang Bing arrived with Mo Lin, and they crossed paths with Long Huo directly.
Mo Lin came to an abrupt stop.
"Help me… save me…"
"So much pain… please help…"
Shrill cries rang in his ears, each one piercing and unbearable, making his head throb.
These weren't voices in the wind—they came from Long Huo.
Behind the man shimmered a haze of blood-red light, within which countless childlike forms twisted and writhed. Their screams echoed in Mo Lin's mind.
The truth struck him instantly—this man had slaughtered children. His contract ghost had failed to fully absorb their essence, leaving spiritual residue that now bled into the physical world.
It could only mean one thing: the ghost had consumed their blood in a bid for power.
Only Mo Lin could see this gruesome spectacle. As a Yin Envoy, he had the power to perceive all malevolence hidden from ordinary eyes.
To everyone else—Wang Bing included—there was nothing to see, nothing to hear.
"Brother Mo, that's Long Huo," Wang Bing whispered, gesturing ahead. "A Grade-Four Ghost Manipulator."
Long Huo faltered mid-step, as though he had heard someone whisper to him. He glanced up at Mo Lin—then quickly averted his gaze and hastened his pace.
He was avoiding Mo Lin.
But Mo Lin had seen something in him—something familiar.
"Stop right there," Mo Lin commanded, stepping forward to block his path.
The boldness of the act sent shivers down everyone's spine. To confront a Grade-Four Ghost Manipulator so directly—it was madness.
"Old friend," Mo Lin said coldly, "why run at the sight of me?"
"I don't know you," Long Huo replied sharply, turning to leave.
But Mo Lin remained unmoved.
"I wasn't speaking to you," he said softly. "I was speaking to the thing inside you."
Long Huo froze. In an instant, he understood what Mo Lin meant—his contract ghost.
"You and I clashed several times in the underworld, didn't we, little ghost?" Mo Lin's gaze was sharp as ice. "Won't you come out and greet an old acquaintance? Or do you take me for a joke now?"
A tremor ran through Long Huo's body. He could feel it—the unmistakable fear emanating from his ghost. It was infecting even him.
Seconds passed before a shadowy, black figure slowly rose from within him.
A ghost with a face smeared in blood hovered in the air.
"My lord… I beg you… have mercy. Spare my life," it whimpered the moment it emerged.
Even the onlookers, who couldn't sense the full scene, were visibly shocked.
A Grade-Four ghost—reduced to groveling?
Ghosts were ranked as follows: Level 0 - Mundane, Level 1 - Common, Level 2 - Dangerous, Level 3 - Menacing, Level 4 - Terrifying, Level 5 - Nightmarish, Level 6 - Lethal.
A Level-Four ghost was an immense power in any region—yet this one cowered in front of Mo Lin, trembling with fear.
"Zhang Gui," Mo Lin snarled, "you committed countless atrocities in the underworld. And now in the world of the living, you persist in evil. You deserve no pity."
This ghost—Zhang Gui—was infamous in the ghost realm. Mo Lin and he were not strangers.
Back when Mo Lin was a Yin Enforcer, he had battled Zhang Gui head-on. At the time, Zhang Gui's strength had rivaled Mo Lin's own.
In the end, Mo Lin had shattered three of the ghost's souls, reducing him to a fragment of his former self. Zhang Gui had fled to the mortal realm to recover.
"My lord… Mo Yin Envoy… we have no enmity now. I beg you, show mercy," Zhang Gui pleaded once more.
"Mercy?" Mo Lin sneered. "Why should I show you mercy?"
"You and I are enemies bound by blood. In the underworld, you slew four of my comrades. Do you truly believe I would forgive you for that?"
Indeed, during a mission to apprehend Zhang Gui, Mo Lin had led over a dozen Yin Enforcers—four of whom had perished by Zhang Gui's hand.
For that alone, Mo Lin would never let him go.