The small group had long since returned to the now lively ghost town of Bei Zangli. There were lights rivaling the larger city above them. And despite so few buildings being in the little town, there were lively shops and people everywhere.

Generations of the small farmer village had come together in life and death together to celebrate. The village was alive. Thought tiredness shown on their faces, neither living nor dead uttered complaints. Everyone occasionally wished for another day, one more moment, to be with a loved one who had died too soon.

Fu Ran stood at the gates of Bei Zangli, and let his shoulder press into the tall metal entryway. How does it feel to be given more time? He mentally asked. He wished to not linger on the past, but seeing families reunited before, caused a strangeness to wash over his expression.

“Shizun? Is something wrong?” Lin An asked.

Reluctantly Fu Ran pulled his eyes away from the view of cheering, and drink cups being slammed together. Smiling at his disciple, he said, “I just have a lot on my mind, please do not worry about it.” Pushing his feet to move, he followed after his disciples and Tian Han.

It was a good thing he was pulled from his thoughts, as what lingered was only touches of regret. Fu Ran was lost in old mental images of his family, not Shesui Lang or Zhi Lao.

Instead of his living martial brothers, the gentle and soft features of his Shizun came to mind.

Shizun, would you have some tea with me? Did I grow up well? Can you tell me how to handle Shesui Lang, and Zhi Lao? How did you deal with Yi Shibo’s… tendencies? None of those questions could be answered, so of course he felt nothing from mentally asking them. Preparing questions for the dead was wishful thinking for the average person, as they would never be given a proper response.

Besides, the matters at hand were quite pressing. The longer this eternal festival continued, the more destabilized the spiritual cores of these wandering spirits became. But they did not think of what might happen, and instead enjoyed the food and nightly parties. Fu Ran was thankful that they were still mentally sound, and that they hadn't yet reached the point where they were wailing in agony from being awoken night after night.

“Shizun, are these people really ghosts?” Lin An asked, inspecting each and every store they had walked past. She hadn't seen this sight well previously, as the disciples ran through with haste to find the shrine.

“Do they not look it? These are our “walking corpses,” however they have been incorrectly mislabeled. They are just wandering spirits.” Fu Ran’s reply was blunt.

Her expression dimmed a little, and she asked, “We saw them and overheard conversations as we ran through here. Do we have to fight them? They seem happy.”

Fu Ran watched the ghosts as they paced back and forth. Looking at this sight, it was no different than the view of any other city. With the scent of food, and the gossip of life, it was certainly unmistakable, so long as you didn’t look at their legs.

Fu Ran slowly shook his head. “It’s not that we must needlessly fight them, or kill them. These people are still restless and that has put a toll on their bodies, so it would be more appropriate to find a way to put them to rest.

“Right now they exist in a physical form, and “living” for too long while in this state will rot their minds, and destroy them slowly. Once that happens, they turn to husks with no ability to rationalize thoughts. Or, to speak like your study books do, they become closer to Fall Corpses. No one wants that for their family members.”

Fu Ran’s face had darkened as he walked through the crowded streets.

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The people he passed paid no mind to his explanation, even though it was quite relevant to them at the present. They simply looked at him with weary smiles, unbothered and unaware of the dangers that came with their physical state right now.

Just as they had planned, Tian Han walked around asking questions about a face matching Fu Ran’s. He got a few promising answers, but they mostly boiled down to: I have seen him around, thus, they were wholly unhelpful.

The lack of leads weighed heavily, causing them to slow their pace with each dismissive answer, and after circling the entire town of Bei Zangli, they had made it back to the gates.

This is far too infuriating. Fu Ran thought. He couldn’t wrap his head about how an entire clone had been available to avoid detection with no efforts.

Should it become necessary, he could call Shesui Lang, and request some aid from An Xian Yun Peak, but he didn’t want to do that. Everyone was just so busy. Finding time amidst the constant missions, back and forth travels, and disciple rearing, seemed like an impossible task. Doing so would only further the idea that he was a bother to have as a Peak Master. Fu Ran sighed.

Tearing him away from his depressive thoughts, a loud male voice filled the streets. “Wang Liwen!”

A young man was running down the bumpy hill that traveled from Jinan, his speed only halted when he had to stabilize his footing near the gates. With arms wide, he roughly came in contact with a ghost woman, taking her into a hug to spin her around. The way the white fabric robes wrinkled and tossed under his action made the two look no different from a normal couple. Their hands were already wandering each other's form as soon as they had hugged, and they shared a chaste kiss.

Nervously, Fu Ran murmured, “Oh.” On seeing such shamelessly displays of actions, his cheeks heated up and turned red. He tried to pull his gaze away. Since his little group of cultivators were the only ones around the gates, he didn’t want to spend more time lingering on the young couple than needed.

But for some reason the man took his eyes off of his lover to share an intense glance with the Peak Master. Discomfort grew as the man’s gaze watched his every move for several moments.

Why are you looking to me?! You were just locking lips with a woman! Don't change it to locking eyes with a man! Fu Ran screamed internally. Embarrassed flush made his head feel dizzy with disbelief.

Finally, the man opened his mouth and said, “Ah, cultivator, didn’t I meet you once already? How did you beat me down the mountain?” The man let out a roaring laugh, and his wife gently batted at him before saying small words in an attempt to quell his rude behavior.

“What was that?” Fu Ran asked, more shocked than upset now.

However the man paid him no mind and continued cooing and pampering the shorter woman at his sleeve. With arms crossed, Fu Ran complained, “You met me once before? Up the mountain?”

The cruel tone caught the man off guard and he finally turned back to look. “I thought you were just carrying your son back home, but perhaps you just put the little one back to bed and came back for the festivities?” The stranger’s tired expression and body language not getting in the way in the happy reunion with his ghost love. He resumed giving her kisses along her jawline the minute he pulled his face away from Fu Ran.

Clearly he couldn’t be bothered to give a man a few moments of time, when his love was right in front of him.

Fu Ran grimaced. The rest of his companions stood idle, except for Tian Han who was shooting a sideways glance at Fu Ran. His grin was evident and terribly annoying, as if he saw Fu Ran’s reactions as some sick enjoyment.

The teacher cleared his throat, and stated, “Jinan it is then. We're going to the Faceless city.” Fu Ran felt he had to escape from the young couple before any other public displays of affection happened, so he ushered the children to follow him.

Turning away so quickly forced his disciples to let out noises of shock and discontent while being left behind.

I was hoping to avoid the Faceless City! But What choice do I have when one of my very own disciples was taken there?

His fists tightened at his side. He still wore Tian Han’s shorter sleeved ones, so any efforts to hide his clenched fingers had failed. His frustration must have been obvious, too, because a firm hand was placed on his shoulder.

No matter how many times Tian Han touched him, Fu Ran hated it.

Tian Han walked by his side for a few paces. In a soft whisper, he asked, “Do you have masks?”

“I do. Enough for the two of us, and the children too.”

As the group approached the hillside path, Fu Ran began to look through his belongings, carefully taking out some delicately designed masks. Each of the masks featured a distinctive style, but they all shared one common element – a tree embroidered on the right side, symbolizing An Xian Yun Peak. The rest of the masks were adorned with intricate gold and silver detailing, creating an opulent appearance.

Fu Ran felt that only covering the top half of one's face was inefficient, but in Jinan, one wanted to fit in. The moment one looked like an outsider, Jinan got more dangerous.