Records of the Halls of Ten Thousand Affairs: Chapter 7: The Grievance of the Drudging Soul (Part 3)

Records of the Halls of Ten Thousand Affairs: Chapter 7: The Grievance of the Drudging Soul (Part 3)

“It was technically suicide,” Li Mengran’s voice faded even softer.

That explained why both divinations showed natural death. Her resentment and unwillingness didn’t stem from some mysterious murderer after all.

“Then why won’t you move on?” Chen Jiu’s expression turned complicated.

If Li Mengran had been driven to death by overwhelming life pressure and a toxic environment, her grievances would fade away naturally.

But Li Mengran let out a quiet laugh. “I want him… to go to hell with me. To become a venge spirit alongside me.”

She paused, looking at Chen Jiu. “So can you give me a little time? Don’t rush me to leave. It won’t be long. Soon I’ll drag him down with me…”

“How long is soon?” Chen Jiu asked.

Li Mengran hesitated, then uncertainly replied, “A month?”

Chen Jiu smiled faintly.

Li Mengran lowered her head, her figure growing fainter and more translucent, her voice trembling. “Please… I beg you.”

She was so bitter, so unwilling. Why should he live peacefully and unscathed, with no retribution at all?

Chen Jiu murmured to herself: All karmic favors, all debts. Anything that happens falls on my master anyway.

She took out paper and brush, writing swiftly on a talisman. “Supreme heavenly stars, eternal unchanging light. May your soul be stable, your spirit whole and at peace.”

She pressed her fingers together. Golden light radiated from the charm, drifting gently through the air. With a flick of her fingers, it flew straight toward Li Mengran’s coffin.

Li Mengran closed her eyes. Warm power flowed through her whole body, calming her restless spirit. When she opened her eyes again, she looked at her own hands and form she was no longer as transparent as before.

“A soul-stabilizing charm,” Chen Jiu explained. “I can only hold it off for two nights. It won’t harm him directly, but your spiritual power will grow temporarily stronger.”

“I understand,” Li Mengran said. The haze in her eyes cleared. She clenched her fists and smiled brightly. “Thank you.”

That day, Zhou Xu fled home and did not return to work. He came down with a high fever, and his dreams grew even more bizarre and terrifying.

A long-haired girl in a white dress took his hand and led him forward endlessly. The path stretched on with no end, no living thing, no dead thing just endless emptiness. Only a faint, dim light glowed far ahead. There was nowhere else to go.

Her hand was ice cold. Zhou Xu looked down trembling; it was deathly pale, drained of all blood.

“Where are you taking me?” he whispered weakly.

She said nothing, yet her grip was impossibly strong. No matter how hard he struggled, he could not break free.

Slowly, her white dress stained crimson. Patches of bright red bloomed across the fabric like blooming flowers. Warm liquid dripped down her ankles, soaking her shoes.

He smelled blood.

His pupils constricted. Terror wracked his whole body. Blurry shadows flashed beside him, but when he turned, nothing was there.

The space was dead silent—so quiet he could not hear his own breathing or heartbeat.

The girl stopped. Sticky blood slid down her pale arm and onto his trousers.

“Spare me… please spare me. I know I was wrong,” he trembled.

“Do you truly regret?” She did not turn around, her voice eerie and soft. She laughed quietly. “You’re just scared.”

A lump of mangled flesh dropped to the ground, wriggling like a living thing, crawling up his leg.

Zhou Xu screamed hysterically. “Get off! Get away from me!”

He kicked wildly, but the flesh whimpered and kept climbing upward.

“No… don’t come near me!” He backed away wildly, his trousers trapped tightly against his skin, stinging painfully.

Warm dampness spread between his legs. He had wet himself.

The stench of urine mixed with sickening blood filled the air. He screamed and cried helplessly. The monster crawled up his abdomen, and sharp, tearing pain exploded across his body.

Zhou Xu jolted awake, soaked in cold sweat. His bed was soaked through with his outline. Rain poured heavily outside the window.

He frantically touched his stomach, rubbing his skin raw, desperate to confirm his body was intact, no wounds, no gashes. There was no foul smell beneath him, only sticky cold sweat.

He broke down crying, his mind on the verge of shattering completely.

Dizzy and disoriented, he stumbled to his desk for water, only to drop the glass. He fell to the floor, his leg bleeding badly from the shards.

The next day, wrapped head to toe, Zhou Xu tracked down Wanshi Zhai using Xu Xin’s address.

The moment he saw Chen Jiu, his first instinct was to run.

Chen Jiu smirked, patted Xiaox, and told the cat to play elsewhere. Resting her chin in her hand, she looked at him teasingly. “How was it, Mr. Zhou? Was my divination accurate?”

Zhou Xu froze, his voice muffled from behind his clothes. “Did you calculate this… or did you deliberately scheme against me?”

He spun around, yanking off his scarf, revealing a gaunt, haggard face. He pointed at her angrily. “It was you! Xu Xin hired you to ruin me, wasn’t it?!”

“You face death yet refuse to repent,” Chen Jiu sneered. “That infant spirit is nearly fully formed. Wait till mother and child come for you together it’ll be far worse.”

She changed her tone coldly. “If you have nothing else, you may leave now. I won’t see you out.”

Zhou Xu trembled violently, half from fear, half from rage. Ever since Li Mengran’s death, his nightmares had worsened, and he could no longer control his own body.

Faced with supernatural power, he dared not gamble. Chen Jiu could end his life as easily as crushing an ant. He had no choice but to submit.

After a long silence, he asked hoarsely, “How much? How much to fix this?”

“Eighty thousand.”

Zhou Xu’s eyes widened. “You’re robbing me!”

Chen Jiu smiled coldly. “Choose your money or your life, Zhou Xu. Eighty thousand is nothing compared to the karma you owe. If this price scares you away, you won’t be able to afford what comes next. Frankly, I’m the only person in Qiu City who can help you. You don’t have much time left to look for anyone else.”

Zhou Xu closed his eyes and took a deep breath. What good was money if he was dead?

Within a week, DH Company was thrown into chaos. Zhou Xu resigned abruptly, triggering massive personnel upheaval. Before leaving, he sent a lengthy confession email to every employee, laying bare the brutal truth behind Li Mengran’s fall.

His reputation was completely destroyed. Online outrage could no longer be suppressed. He was flooded with vicious insults, abandoned by relatives and former partners, a pariah to everyone.

He withdrew his last savings, found Li Mengran’s parents through Xu Xin, and sent them a large anonymous sum. The rest of his money he donated entirely to mountain poverty relief and public welfare charities.

Chen Jiu told him plainly: “Your sins are too heavy. You must lose everything you own to atone.”

He sold his car, his house, spending his fortune to escape disaster—but it was still not enough.

His fiancée, daughter of the company director whom he had been engaged to for years, refused to believe the rumors. She traveled to his empty home to confront him personally.

Zhou Xu stared at the barren room and laughed bitterly, half-crying, half-cackling. He collapsed to his knees by the door.

From the other side, his fiancée banged frantically. “Zhou Xu! Answer me!”

Losing all restraint, he screamed wildly, “I never wanted to marry you! Do you think I cared about you, if you weren’t Director Wang’s daughter?!”

While Zhou Xu’s life fell apart completely, Li Mengran’s parents read his viral confession with the help of kind netizens.

They wept inconsolably, their hearts shattered.

“She suffered so much… why didn’t she say anything?” Mother Li clutched her chest, sobbing. “Monster! He’s a monster!”

“I’ll kill him! I’m going to kill him right now!”

Father Li grabbed a watermelon knife from the kitchen, ignored his wife’s pleas, and rushed out toward DH Company.

At the office, Xu Xin stared at her screen, eyes red and teary, sitting motionless at her desk. Her kind supervisor knew how close she and Li Mengran had been, and showed great mercy, even treating the whole department to afternoon tea.

She had endured so much in silence… always too proud to tell anyone how much she hurt.

Exhausted beyond words, Xu Xin fell asleep at her desk.

She dreamed of an endless pure white space, with only two workstations hers, and Li Mengran’s.