The Underworld Sable Envoy: I Cultivate Immortality at the Department of Spiritual Investigation

I swiped my phone, and the work group chat, which used to be buzzing with messages, was now as silent as a stagnant pool. The profile pictures of my colleagues from Lage Village had all turned a glaring gray, never to light up again.

The Bureau of Investigation's SUV dropped me off downstairs at the building of the supervising office in Bayi District, Nyingchi City, and drove off in a cloud of dust. I stood at the bottom of the steps, my fingers gripping my phone tightly.

I don't know how to tell anyone about what happened that night in Lago Village, let alone how to face my superiors. Besides, I had signed a confidentiality agreement.

Stepping into the office building, an unusual stillness hit me. Colleagues who used to greet me with smiles and pleasantries when we passed each other now instinctively lowered their heads and hurried away when they saw me. Some even deliberately turned into the side offices, as if I were tainted with bad luck or some kind of taboo that could not be touched, and they dared not even make eye contact with me.

The corridor was so quiet you could hear your own footsteps. Passing the director's office, I heard two hushed, tense voices arguing through the crack in the door—it was Director Chen, the second-in-command, his voice laced with suppressed anger:

"The Bureau of Investigation has issued a strict order: no one is allowed to mention Su Nianyang, and even less so, Lago Village. It's as if that village never existed, and he never even went there!"

The other voice was deeper, tinged with barely suppressed anxiety:

"Oh? How am I supposed to explain this to 'that person'? The young girl stationed in Lago Village is his daughter!"

As soon as he finished speaking, a heavy silence fell over the office, broken only by the dull thud of fingertips tapping on the desk, each tap echoing in the deathly stillness of the corridor and striking my heart.

I stopped abruptly, as if my blood had instantly turned to ice.

It turns out that this disaster, which was forcibly erased, concealed not only the strangeness of the spirit realm, but also this intricate web of relationships.

I dared not listen any longer, and hurried past, keeping my footsteps light and close to the wall. In the office behind me, the arguing began again in hushed tones, but I could no longer make out the words.

It turns out it wasn't that no one cared, but that they couldn't ask.

That night in Lago Village, along with those who had lived with her day and night, became a taboo that no one could touch.

After registering, a colleague from the personnel department led me to my accommodation—a temporary public rental apartment in an old tenement building in District 1. The walls were already faded white. The person gave me a professional smile, said "Rest assured and get some rest," and then quickly disappeared around the corner of the corridor.

The moment the door closed, a suffocating silence enveloped me again. I hurriedly pushed open the window and leaned against the windowsill, gasping for breath. The cold wind outside, carrying the unique chill of the snowy region, finally brought me back to my senses a little.

The sky was overcast, and even in the snowy afternoon, there was no warmth whatsoever. The tension and exhaustion of the past few days surged up, and I went into the cramped bathroom and turned on the hot water. Steam quickly filled the room, blurring the mirror. I frantically splashed hot water on my face, and just then, a strange sound suddenly entered my ears.

At first, it was as faint as wind brushing through a window crack, but gradually it became clearer—

It's the sound of crying!!!

The mournful wails mingled with the rushing water and drifted in the white mist. They were right beside my ears, yet I couldn't discern their direction. They were just like the chilling whimpers of the Tibetan bear in the courtyard of Lage Village that night.

I opened my eyes abruptly and reached out to wipe the fog off the mirror.

With that wipe, the blood in his body instantly froze.

On the misty mirror surface, blurry and eerie human figures condensed, crooked and twisted. Some were hunched over, others had no clear faces, only hazy outlines.

Not just on the mirror, but also on the ceiling and walls, there are shadows everywhere.

Some were wearing familiar work uniforms—they were my colleagues from Lage Village; others were hunched over—they were elderly people from the village. They had no facial features, only hazy outlines, and a chilling aura emanated from their fingertips, slowly drawing them closer to me.

The auditory hallucinations turned into real screams, cries mixed with pleas for "Help me," "It's so cold," and "Why aren't you coming out?" The cramped bathroom was completely filled with these eerie figures shrouded in mist.

Just then, a burly figure was reflected in the mirror behind me.

The man gripped a blood-stained Tibetan knife, his eyes swirling with intense resentment.

That was... the firefighter who sacrificed his life!

He was swinging his sword at my back!

I hurriedly turned around to avoid it, and my back slammed heavily against the tiled wall.

Fear gripped me instantly, just like the suffocating feeling I had when I was surrounded by Tibetan bears that night.

At the same time, a piercing pain suddenly shot through the two teeth marks on my fingertips—a pain that went straight to my soul. Immediately afterward, an extreme chill enveloped my entire body.

At each of the two faint teeth marks, a wisp of black mist rose, flowing along the blood vessels to the palm, and the extremely cold yin energy instantly flowed through the limbs and bones.

I instinctively clenched my fists.

The two wisps of black mist drifted from their fingertips, and upon touching any approaching shadowy figures, they emitted a sizzling sound. The eerie figures let out mournful howls, twisting and dissipating as if being burned.

The hot water continued to flow, and the white mist still lingered, but the shrill sounds abruptly ceased, eventually turning into wisps of harmless vapor that dissipated into the air. Looking at my fingertips, two thick wisps of black mist were slowly fading away.

I stared at my fingertips, my heart pounding wildly.

This black mist is exactly the same as the black mist that surrounded Chou Chou when he transformed into a messenger of the underworld that night.

But... when did this black mist begin to entangle me?

A ghostly figure in the bathroom, the smell emanating from my own body, an intensely dark darkness...

In an instant, I remembered the time when Chou Chou bit me.

That illogical bite actually left the black mist from its body inside my body.

The world seems to have been completely turned upside down.

I can't think of any other explanation.

After the chilling panic subsided, a thought suddenly gripped me: I had to contact the Paranormal Investigation Bureau! This thing had reappeared, and it had come directly to me!

I rushed out of the bathroom, grabbed my phone, and was about to make a call. My finger hovered above the screen, but suddenly froze—I had no way to contact them. Every time we went back and forth, from the moment I got on the bus, a heavy black hood would be draped over my head without warning, completely depriving me of my vision; all I could hear was the engine and the faint noise of the wind. They carried me like a piece of classified cargo, preventing me from having any sense of the route.

I don't even know which direction that place is in.

Clinging to my last glimmer of hope, I unlocked my phone and, with trembling fingers, typed "Linzhi," "Ghost Investigation Bureau," and "Special Investigation" into the search engine... The results that popped up were all over the place, some were travel guides for backpackers, some were pages from unrelated government agencies, and occasionally there were a few sensational urban legend posts, with absurd language that were obviously nonsense.

Not a single word points to that real, rigid institution that took me and Chou Chou away.

They were like ghosts, able to find me with pinpoint accuracy, while I couldn't even turn around to look at their coordinates.

A tremendous sense of powerlessness overwhelmed me. It was even more intense than when I had faced the eerie shadows directly. It was a kind of despair, like being thrown into the vast darkness, knowing there were watchers, yet not knowing which way to face to cry for help.

"Damn it..." I cursed under my breath and slammed my phone onto the bed.

The air in the public housing unit seemed to still carry a lingering, eerie chill, which, combined with this suffocating feeling of having nowhere to turn, almost made it hard for me to breathe. I couldn't stay any longer; I had to leave this box-like room. I had no destination in mind; I just wanted to be surrounded by sunlight and people, even if it was just an illusion.

I simply locked the door and rushed downstairs, my feet unconsciously leading me toward Hong Kong Road—there's a coffee shop I frequent there, and perhaps only the warm aroma of coffee can calm me down a little.

Pushing open the door, the rich, scalding coffee dispelled the chill. I ordered a hot Americano, sat by the window, and unconsciously rubbed the straw between my fingers, my mind a jumbled mess.

My phone suddenly rang, and the words "Sister Gesang" appeared on the screen. Sister Gesang is my supervisor, and she has always treated me like a sister.

After hesitating for a few seconds, I pressed the answer button. Her voice was calm, but I knew it was her way of trying to hide her emotions: "Nianyang, where are you? I want to see you."

Half an hour later, Gesang sat down opposite me. The cuffs of her Tibetan-style trench coat were still damp with the wind from the snowy plateau. She looked at me, her eyes filled with worry, but she didn't speak for a long time. Soft music filled the café, and steam rose from the coffee cups. We sat there in silence until Gesang sighed softly and broke the silence first, her voice low: "Are you alright?"

Those four simple words were like a warm current, breaking through the emotions I had been holding back. I paused, my Adam's apple bobbing, and finally managed to squeeze out, "I'm fine, I'm okay, sis."

I dared not say more, nor could I say more. The Spirit Investigation Bureau's orders were like shackles, and I knew that Sister Gesang was under immense pressure when she asked that question. "Take care of yourself, don't try to tough it out. If you have any difficulties, tell me." My nose stung, and I could only nod vigorously.

She could say hesitantly, "There are some things... I don't know either, but you have to be careful. Some people who 'care' about you may not have good intentions."

Meanwhile, in a place I couldn't see, a test about me had just ended.

Inside the Bureau of Spiritual Investigation's command center, various data points flickered on a blue screen. Director Yang stood before the screen, tapping his fingertips on the table, while Master Rhonda stood calmly to the side, his fingers resting on prayer beads. On the table, the title of a newly printed document was prominently displayed: "Report on Contact Non-Standard Energy Stress Test of Observation Subject 073 (Su Nianyang)".

"Data transmission from the public rental housing test site 'A-03' is complete," a staff member coldly reported. "We released 'Memory Echoes' (i.e., Yin energy) as planned, stimulating the target by simulating the energy frequency of the victims in Lago Village. The target exhibited a significant stress response and triggered an unknown energy defense."

On the screen was a blurry image of black mist rising from my bathroom, dispelling the eerie shadows. Immediately following was a live feed of my anxious search, culminating in me smashing my phone.

"Is the detector responding?" Director Yang asked in a deep voice.

"No. No known fluctuations in spiritual energy were detected at the scene or during subsequent monitoring," the staff member confirmed. "However, his physiological indicators show that he experienced violent fluctuations at that moment. The energy form... cannot be categorized."

Director Yang frowned, his gaze sweeping over the report before finally settling on Master Rhonda.

Master Rhonda slowly opened his eyes, his fingers pausing as he twirled the prayer beads: "The power of the world is not limited to the spiritual realm."

The absence of detection doesn't necessarily mean its absence. Releasing "echoes" to probe is like illuminating an abyss with a torch; what we see isn't the abyss itself, but merely a small patch of mist illuminated by the firelight. What lies within him… might be closer to the "source" itself than the "echoes" we use for testing.”

Director Yang seemed lost in thought, then turned to look at another monitoring screen. On the screen was a live feed of me sitting in the coffee shop, along with data streams from surveillance cameras throughout the street and from disguised special agents.

"The test objectives have been achieved," Director Yang summarized, his tone devoid of emotion. "First, we confirmed that he may have a deep energy connection with that ferret. Second, we confirmed that the energy on his body is of a special nature and cannot be identified by the existing system. This may be the 'unclassifiable phenomenon' that the General Administration warned about."

He paused for a moment, then issued the order: "Enter the test results into the top-secret file. Raise his surveillance level to 'Amber Level' and continue to observe him. Until we figure out what he and his 'pet' really represent, he is the most important observation sample for the Linzhi branch, and also the biggest potential variable."

Meanwhile, I was walking on the streets of District 1, completely unaware of the "test" I had just experienced and the subsequent escalation of surveillance.

The coolness of the black mist still lingered on my fingertips. I looked down at my fingers; the two teeth marks had long since faded, but I knew that something had completely changed.

What exactly was that black mist that Chou Chou left me that day? And were those realistic, malicious phantoms just now really just a coincidence?

A cold, unspoken question, like a seed, quietly took root in my heart.