After the Death Ceremony, I was Entangled by My Two Wives - Chapter 1

“The eighteenth trial… everyone faces it…”

“A bowl of Meng Po’s Soup?”

In five seconds, Meng Po scooped up a bowl of her signature soup and deftly handed it to the person standing before her stall. After millennia of this work, the motion had become muscle memory.

Ying Buran glanced at the soup offered to her, shook her head, and set it on the nearby table. “I’m sorry, I don’t need this.”

Oh? Another one who refuses? I’ll contact the Ghost Messenger to escort them away… Wait a moment?

“Hmm? You won’t drink it? That aura on you… Ah, I see now. You’re one of his people.” Meng Po had been about to contact Black Impermanence when she sensed the Ghost King’s presence emanating from the woman before her.

So, she’s one of the Ghost King’s people. Meng Po handed the soup to a small ghost, instructing her to resume her previous task, and gestured for Ying Buran to follow her aside for a private conversation.

Ying Buran breathed a sigh of relief, discreetly sheathing the dagger gifted to her by the Ghost King. She followed Meng Po to the side and stood quietly.

Meng Po waited for the young soul to speak, but after a long silence, Ying Buran remained as still as a statue. Rubbing her temples, Meng Po finally broke the silence. “Since that’s the case, you must be heading to the Gate of Life and Death, not the Gate of Rebirth. Do you understand what you’ll face?”

Ying Buran nodded slightly. The Ghost King had already made it clear: “I know. I understand perfectly.”

Finally, she’s not being a blockhead anymore, Meng Po thought, nodding with a hint of relief. She continued, “Even though I know your purpose, I still want to advise you. Drinking the soup before going to the Gate of Life and Death will make things easier.”

“For millennia, I’ve never seen anyone successfully emerge alive from that gate. And since you’re already in the Netherworld, wouldn’t it be the same to start anew in the next life and seek your revenge then?”

Meng Po offered this advice as she always did, having persuaded many souls in the past. After all, the path through the Gate of Life and Death was truly unbearable for most.

The Ghost King was aware of her actions but had always tacitly approved, so she never reported her to higher authorities.

In essence, she was merely giving these souls an additional choice.

Ying Buran shook her head firmly. She had no intention of taking that path. “It’s not the same. The ‘me’ in the next life won’t be the same ‘me’ as I am now. I want to avenge the wrongs of this life in this life.”

Why should she wait for some vague, uncertain afterlife? If she didn’t reincarnate as a human in the next life, would she simply abandon her revenge?

She didn’t believe in the afterlife; she only believed in the present moment, in herself.

Having spoken her piece, Ying Buran fell silent again, her gaze fixed stubbornly on Meng Po. Even if the old woman refused to guide her, she wouldn’t drink the soup. She’d find her own way, if necessary.

Meng Po raised an eyebrow, surprised. “You’ve thought this through thoroughly. Very well, I won’t try to dissuade you further. But I must warn you: entering the Gate of Life and Death with your memories intact will subject you to doubled punishment and pain. Are you truly prepared for that?”

“Yes, I’m ready,” Ying Buran nodded, her gaze fixed on Lady Meng’s Bridge.

Crossing that bridge should lead to the path between the two gates. I wonder if there are any signs? If Meng Po hadn’t told me, how would I have found my way?

These souls who’ve drunk the soup must all be heading to the Gate of Rebirth, right? In that case, I can just take the path where no one else is going.

Meng Po watched as Ying Buran fell silent again after her brief reply, her eyes fixed on the bridge as if deep in thought. After a moment, she guessed what the girl was thinking, and the corner of her mouth twitched.

She’s far more stubborn than I imagined.

“Cross this bridge and keep walking straight. At the end of the path, turn right for the Gate of Rebirth and left for the Gate of Life and Death,” Meng Po said, waving her hand dismissively as she returned to her stall, resuming her monotonous task.

Ying Buran’s eyes lit up briefly before quickly returning to their usual calm. As she passed Meng Po, she murmured softly, “Thank you.”

Meng Po pretended not to hear, but after Ying Buran had walked past, the corner of her mouth curved upward ever so slightly.

I hope this little girl succeeds, she thought privately, wishing their plan would succeed.

After crossing Lady Meng’s Bridge, Ying Buran blended into the line of souls.

Unlike the souls who, after drinking the soup, became dazed and disoriented, blindly following the Ghost Messengers’ directions, Ying Buran remained clear-headed about her objective, secretly observing her surroundings.

She saw no landmarks or directional signs; the area was shrouded in mist, and straying even briefly could lead to getting lost.

No wonder they’re not worried.

Soon, the group reached a fork in the road. To her surprise, there was actually a road sign here.

Meng Po hadn’t lied—the correct path was indeed to the left.

Ignoring the Ghost Messengers’ astonished glances, Ying Buran stepped onto the left-hand path. The souls behind her quickly filled the gap she left, and the path to the next life became whole again.

On this side, she was the only one on the path back to her current life, without even a Ghost Messenger to guide her.

Fortunately, this path was free of mist, and she arrived safely.

The Gate of Life and Death was closed, and the Ghost Messenger guarding it was fast asleep. After fumbling around for a moment, Ying Buran realized the gate could only be opened by the gatekeeper. Without hesitation, she yanked the nearby bell, waking the guard with a start.

Startled by the sudden ringing, the gatekeeper sprang to his feet, instinctively straightening up and saluting. He only relaxed when he saw it was an unfamiliar soul.

Thank goodness, it’s not an inspection from above.

Ying Buran was equally startled by the gatekeeper’s reaction, immediately sensing his scrutinizing gaze. Before she could react, the gatekeeper spoke: “Another one? How dare you come here with such an incomplete soul?”

Ying Buran paused, unsure how to respond. She decided to cut to the chase: “Please open the gate.”

After a moment’s thought, she added, “Thank you.”

The gatekeeper stared at her, speechless.

Should I praise her for being so polite?

“Ahem, once you step through this gate, your life and death are your own responsibility. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” the gatekeeper coughed twice to mask his awkwardness, his tone turning serious as he observed Ying Buran’s reaction.

Ying Buran nodded, then, as if struck by a sudden thought, asked with a hint of confusion, “You seem very opposed to anyone entering the Gate of Life and Death?”

The gatekeeper shrugged. “After all, transitioning from death to life goes against the natural order.”

“Has anyone ever succeeded?” Ying Buran asked, as if she hadn’t heard his previous statement.

The gatekeeper fell silent again, then countered, “If I said no, would you turn back?”

Ying Buran genuinely considered the question before shaking her head. “No.”

“Someone succeeded once, but that was a thousand years ago. Do you still want to enter?” The gatekeeper’s lips twitched as he waved his hand, opening the gate and gesturing toward the entrance.

“…I’ll enter.” Caught off guard by the gatekeeper’s sudden move, Ying Buran quickly recovered and charged straight through the Gate of Life and Death.

To transition from death to rebirth, one must endure eighteen trials. Each trial begins at a gate, and only by surviving the ordeal and passing through the next gate is the trial considered complete.

Severed fingers, knife stabs, scorching flames, extreme cold, crushing pressure, shattered bones… Trial after trial, she felt her soul shatter and reassemble countless times. The pain lingered in her consciousness, never fading, repeating endlessly…

Countless times, she felt herself on the verge of collapse, yet a subtle warmth would piece her soul back together, preventing it from dissipating or shattering completely.

This was the soul power of another person. Zhao Qingxun had severed a fragment from her own soul to protect Ying Buran’s spirit.

“Ghost King… Zhao Qingxun…” Ying Buran collapsed to the ground, too weak to stand again. Her soul trembled uncontrollably, the pain so intense it numbed her senses, momentarily stripping her of all awareness.

She opened her tightly clenched hand to reveal a faint symbol flickering in her palm—Zhao Qingxun’s protection, which had shielded her all the way here.

“Can I really still trust you?” Ying Buran murmured, staring at the symbol.

Even knowing that this Ghost King wasn’t the same person who had betrayed her, the resemblance made it impossible for her to fully trust her.

To be precise, she no longer dared to trust anyone.

Trust had only led to betrayal, to being personally delivered to the altar by the one she had once loved.

Ying Buran snapped out of her daze, clenching her fists and gritting her teeth as she forced herself to stand again.

Now is not the time for such thoughts. There’s still one final trial…

Just two more doors to cross, and she could finally exact her revenge with her own hands.

This final stretch felt like an eternity, the few meters stretching out endlessly.

Ying Buran took a deep breath and pushed open the door.

Beyond it lay not a sea of blades or a fiery abyss, but a person—a figure chillingly familiar.

It was herself, still wearing the clothes she had worn when she was with him.

“Congratulations on reaching the final trial,” the doppelganger said, turning to face the stunned Ying Buran. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion.

“The eighteenth trial varies for each person, but without exception, it confronts you with your deepest fears.” The doppelganger slowly approached the paralyzed Ying Buran, reaching out to touch her forehead. “Now, face the nightmares of your past.”

Ying Buran hid behind a crumbling wall, her throat burning from running. Each breath tasted of iron rust, yet she dared not gasp for air, clamping her hand over her mouth to suppress her coughs.

Just fifteen minutes earlier, she had been begging for food when the sky suddenly darkened. Ghostly figures materialized and began patrolling the area, as if searching for something.

Banished from human settlements, she was forbidden to seek shelter there, forced to scavenge for hiding places in the desolate wilderness.

After running for what felt like an eternity, Ying Buran finally stumbled upon a place where she could briefly rest.

But before she could catch her breath, the Ghost Clan descended upon her again.

Exhausted beyond measure, she could only pray they wouldn’t find her.

“Human scent? There’s a human scent here!”

“Found her! Hiding over there!”

Run!

Without hesitation, Ying Buran forced her leaden legs into motion, sprinting with every ounce of strength she had left. The moment she left her hiding spot, a net dropped from above, ensnaring the very spot she had just vacated.

So close! Run, keep running, don’t stop!

She desperately tried to escape, but after so long without food and the earlier flight, Ying Buran was already exhausted. She had barely taken a few steps when a chain snared her ankle, dragging her to the ground.

I’m going to be caught… What will they do to me? Will they eat me alive? Ying Buran instinctively raised her arms in defense, closing her eyes as the Ghost Clan rushed toward her.

The expected pain never came. Instead, she heard the sound of a blade slicing through the air.

Ying Buran opened her eyes. A figure in white robes stood before her, back turned, protecting her as he slaughtered the ghosts and severed the chains.

For some reason, the sight of this man’s back pierced her heart with a sharp pain.

That shouldn’t be possible. I’ve never even seen him before…

“You’re safe now. Leave the rest to me.”