Chapter 15: The Warden's Invitation

The black light faded. The con woman lay crumpled on the floor, her borrowed body twitching. Jiang Chen stood over her, staff still extended, breath ragged.

"You almost had me," he said.

She laughed through broken teeth. "Almost. That's my whole life story."

He should drag her back now. Chain her soul, deliver her to the judges, collect his reward. Three more souls and he'd be promoted from probationary to full reaper. Three more souls and he'd get access to the deeper archives, the ones that might hold records of his own trial.

But her words burned in his chest.

*You were framed.*

He crouched beside her. "The names. Tell me now, or I'll drag you back and let Old Yan scrape them from your memory himself. He's not gentle."

"He'll destroy me."

"You'll be dead either way. One death is cleaner than the other."

She studied him with those calculating eyes. Even broken, even defeated, she was still working angles. He could see her mind spinning, searching for leverage.

"There's a man named Zhao," she said finally. "Minister Zhao. He handles... acquisitions. For powerful people. Land, properties, companies. And when someone won't sell, he handles that too."

"Never heard of him."

"You wouldn't have. He operates in the shadows. But I possessed his secretary two years ago. Saw his files. He keeps records of everything—every payment, every threat, every death."

"And I'm in these records?"

"You're a footnote. A minor inconvenience that was handled." She smiled. "But a footnote is still a record. If you can get to his files, you'll see who ordered your death. And why."

Jiang Chen stood. "Where do I find this Zhao?"

"You can't. He's protected. Bodyguards, security systems, the whole fortress." She paused. "But his daughter isn't."

"Explain."

"Zhao Yuxuan. Twenty-three years old. Studies at Beijing University. Lives in a dormitory, drives a modest car, tries to pretend she's not rich. But every month, her father's men come to check on her. They report everything—her friends, her grades, her boyfriends."

"You want me to kidnap a college student."

"I want you to use her as leverage. Threaten her, and Zhao will give you anything. Including access to his files."

Jiang Chen's grip tightened on his staff. "I'm not a criminal."

"You're a dead man who was killed for someone else's crime. What's a little kidnapping between ghosts?"

He turned away. The offer was poison, and he knew it. But the truth—the real truth about his death—was the only thing he wanted more than revenge.

"I'll find another way."

"There is no other way." Her voice dropped. "Listen to me. I've been possessing people for seventeen years. I've seen the inside of every government office, every corporate boardroom, every criminal enterprise in this city. Do you know what they all have in common? Paper trails. Everyone keeps records. But the really powerful people keep their records where no one can find them. Zhao's files are the only complete archive of the underground. If you want answers, he's the only door."

"And what do you get out of this?"

"Time. Every minute you spend chasing Zhao is a minute I'm not being dragged back to Diyu." She grinned. "I told you. I'm always working an angle."

Jiang Chen pulled out his communicator. The glass surface glowed with Old Yan's waiting messages. He'd been gone too long. The judges would be wondering.

"I'm going to bind you," he said. "Temporarily. You'll stay in your current body, but you won't be able to leave it. If you behave, I'll consider your deal."

"If I don't?"

"Then I'll deliver you to Old Yan in pieces."

He raised his staff. Black chains emerged from the wood, wrapping around her soul. She gasped as they tightened, fusing her spirit to the borrowed flesh.

"There," he said. "You're anchored. Don't test it."

She tested it anyway—he felt her soul push against the chains, searching for weakness. Finding none, she relaxed.

"Fine. But if we're going to be partners, you should know my name."

"I know your name. Chen Mei, age forty-seven, convicted of fraud seventeen times."

"My legal name. My real name is Lin Shu. And I never killed those soul reapers. They killed themselves chasing me."

"Doesn't matter. You're still a fugitive."

"Semantics."

He grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet. She stumbled, still adjusting to the body's limitations. "Where are we going?"

"Beijing University. I want to see this Zhao Yuxuan for myself."

---

The campus was alive with night activity. Students hurried between buildings, laptops under arms, phones glowing in the dark. Jiang Chen moved through them like a ghost—which, technically, he was. Lin Shu followed close behind, her chains invisible to mortal eyes.

"She's in the library," Lin Shu said. "I can feel her soul signature. Weak, but distinct."

"How do you know her soul?"

"I did my research before offering you the deal. I don't make offers I can't fulfill."

They found her on the third floor, tucked into a corner with a stack of textbooks. Zhao Yuxuan was pretty in an unremarkable way—the kind of face that would blend into any crowd. She was reading something about international trade law, her brow furrowed in concentration.

"She looks normal," Jiang Chen said.

"That's the point. Wealthy criminals always hide their families in plain sight. No bodyguards, no armored cars, no obvious protection. Just a normal girl living a normal life."

"Until someone like you comes along."

"Exactly."

Jiang Chen watched her for a long moment. She was innocent. She had to be. Her father's crimes weren't hers. Threatening her would make him no better than the people who'd framed him.

But the truth. The truth was worth something.

He walked over and sat across from her.

She looked up, startled. "Can I help you?"

"I need to talk to your father."

Her face went through three expressions in rapid succession: confusion, fear, then careful neutrality. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I think you do. Minister Zhao. Your father. I need to reach him."

"He's a businessman. A legitimate one."

"I'm sure he is." Jiang Chen leaned forward. "But I also know he keeps records. Detailed records. And I need to see them."

Zhao Yuxuan's hands were shaking, but her voice stayed steady. "If you're trying to threaten me, you're wasting your time. My father doesn't negotiate with—"

"I'm not threatening you. I'm asking for an introduction. That's all."

"Why would I help you?"

"Because I could have done worse." He stood. "I have your contact information. Think about it. If you change your mind, call this number." He slid a card across the table—one of his reaper business cards, which would connect directly to his communicator.

He turned and walked away, Lin Shu trailing behind.

"That was pathetic," she hissed. "You had leverage and you wasted it."

"I'm not going to threaten an innocent girl."

"She's not innocent. She knows what her father does. She's been benefiting from it her whole life."

"Still not her fault."

Lin Shu grabbed his arm, stopping him. "You're too soft for this world, Jiang Chen. You were too soft when you were alive, and you're too soft now. That's why you're dead."

He pulled free. "Maybe. But I'd rather be dead than become the thing I'm hunting."

Their eyes met. Something flickered in her gaze—respect, maybe. Or pity. He couldn't tell.

"Your phone," she said suddenly. "It's vibrating."

He pulled out the communicator. It wasn't Old Yan. The number was unknown, but the message was clear:

*You made a mistake coming here. I know what you are. Meet me at the East Gate in ten minutes, or I'll report you to the authorities.*

"Who sent this?" Lin Shu asked.

Jiang Chen looked at the message again. There was only one person who could have seen him for what he was.

He turned. Zhao Yuxuan was packing her books, pretending not to watch him.

"The daughter," he said. "She knows."

---

The East Gate was empty when they arrived. Jiang Chen scanned the area, searching for traps or ambushes. Lin Shu stood beside him, her chains rattling softly.

"This is a bad idea," she said.

"Most of my ideas are."

A car pulled up—a black sedan with tinted windows. The rear door opened, and Zhao Yuxuan stepped out. She was alone.

"You're the soul reaper," she said. It wasn't a question.

"How do you know about soul reapers?"

"My father told me. He's been preparing me for years." She walked closer, her eyes fixed on him. "He said someone would come eventually. Someone from the other side, looking for answers."

"Your father knows about Diyu?"

"He knows about everything. That's why he's still alive."

Jiang Chen's mind raced. This changed everything. If Zhao knew about the underworld, knew about soul reapers, then he wasn't just a criminal—he was connected to something much larger.

"What does he want?"

"He wants to meet you. Tonight." She handed him a folded piece of paper. "This address. Come alone. If you bring anyone else, the meeting is off, and you'll never get your answers."

He took the paper. "Why would he agree to meet me?"

Zhao Yuxuan smiled. It was a cold smile, nothing like the innocent student she'd pretended to be. "Because he's been waiting for you, Jiang Chen. He's the one who ordered your death. And he wants to see the look on your face when he tells you why."

She turned and walked back to the car. The door closed. The sedan drove away.

Lin Shu let out a low whistle. "Well. That escalated quickly."

Jiang Chen stared at the address in his hand. The name of his killer. The answer to every question he'd had since the moment the needle went in.

And he had no idea if he was walking into a negotiation or a trap.

"Are you going?" Lin Shu asked.

He folded the paper and put it in his pocket.

"I'm going."

---

The address led to a warehouse on the outskirts of the city. Jiang Chen approached alone, leaving Lin Shu bound and waiting in the shadows. The building was dark, silent, abandoned.

He pushed open the door.

Inside, a single lamp illuminated a desk. Behind it sat a man in a expensive suit, his face half-hidden in shadow.

"Close the door," the man said. "We have a lot to discuss."

Jiang Chen stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind him.

"I've been watching you, Jiang Chen. Ever since you came back from the dead." The man leaned forward, and the light caught his face. He was older than expected, with sharp features and cold eyes. "You've been very busy. Three souls collected. One fugitive captured. Impressive for a probationary reaper."

"Who are you?"

"My name is Zhao Wei. But you already knew that."

"Your daughter said you ordered my death."

"I did." He said it casually, like ordering takeout. "And I'll tell you why. But first, I want to make you an offer."

"I don't make deals with my killers."

"You will. Once you hear what I have to say."