In the Nether Soul Realm, a shrill screech arose in this land of death.

Out of the darkness, a man in a white robe, his hair casually tied and draped over the back of his head, strolled out with a languid expression.

He extended a hand; his fingers were long, nails neatly trimmed and rounded. That hand was like a meticulously carved work of art.

He waved to the sky and laughed, "Stop screeching. Let's go; I'll take you out for a look around."

In the sky, a large, dark grey Big Bird descended. As it fell, it kept shrinking until it turned into the size of a crow and landed on the man's shoulder.

"Master, are we going out?" Grey Bird asked with some excitement.

"By today's terms, you should call me Boss. I'm truly short-handed. Plus, I encountered a very strange event last time, so I feel it's necessary to make a trip."

The man walked through the deathly quiet Nether Soul Realm. After some time, he reached out and knocked on the void ahead.

The moment his fingers landed, a large door appeared before him. KNOCK KNOCK. The sound of knocking echoed.

The man looked up at the writing on the plaque above the door and smiled, "Rakshasa Ghost Market. This new name suits you quite well."

Grey Bird looked up and laughed too.

The doors swung open, and two paper figures with rouged cheeks bent forward to welcome the newcomer.

The Rakshasa Ghost Market was still bustling, completely unaffected by the previous incident.

The cries of vendors were incessant, and all sorts of Ghosts freely revealed their true forms here.

When a new door appeared on a wall and someone else entered, no one else paid any mind.

People were constantly arriving and departing here.

The man walked along the street, looking at the food stalls with a hint of nostalgia, and sat at a small table by the roadside.

"Shopkeeper, a bowl of noodles, please. Prime broth, the Double-Head Broth."

With that, the man rummaged in his sleeve and casually tossed out a Gold Leaf.

The shopkeeper's eyes lit up. He quickly picked up the Gold Leaf, rubbed it a little, and praised, "Sir, you're a true connoisseur! Few people nowadays know about Double-Head Broth."

Genuine gold is hard currency anywhere, easy to offload, and it has never lost its value.

The shopkeeper didn't waste any time. He immediately fetched a new pot and refilled it with bitingly cold water.

Reaching into his clothing, he pulled out two ribs and tossed them into the brazier below. He stomped hard on the nearby bellows, and WHOOSH! The flames roared to life.

Green flames blazed fiercely, heating the water.

The shopkeeper also started kneading and cutting noodles. Once the noodles were cut, the fresh pot of water was almost boiling.

Prime broth noodles are the first noodles cooked in a fresh pot of water. The most prized is the very first bowl from a large pot of water; that bowl is called prime broth noodles.

This is a standard method for plain noodles.

As for Double-Head Broth noodles, the art lies in the coexistence of mellow richness and freshness. Noodles are cooked in a well-simmered broth, absorbing its most concentrated flavors, thereby gaining a deep aroma themselves.

Garnished with some green vegetables and scallions, it becomes a rare delicacy.

So, the shopkeeper began to prepare the second "head" for the Double-Head Broth. He took off his own head, cleaned it thoroughly inside and out, and dropped it directly into the big pot.

As the head tumbled in the pot, the green flames danced, and gradually, a rich aroma began to diffuse. The headless shopkeeper kept an eye on the time and the broth. When it was about ready, he retrieved his head and reattached it to his neck.

Only then were the noodles added, and a seemingly ordinary bowl of Double-Head Broth noodles was ready.

The shopkeeper served the noodles with a hint of embarrassment.

"Sir, I've only been making noodles for a few years. The flavor might be a little lacking. Please excuse the humble offering."

The man tasted the noodles and nodded.

"Your technique isn't bad; it's just the ingredients that are lacking. That's not your fault. Make noodles for another hundred years, and the flavor should be just right."

"Thank you for the compliment, sir. Please take your time and enjoy. Just call me if you need anything."

After finishing the noodles, the man left contented, and other Ghosts wanted to follow suit and try it.

The noodle maker waved his hand.

"Only one bowl a day, I can't make more! Are you lot willing to fork out that kind of money?"

With that, the shopkeeper flashed the Gold Leaf. The other Ghosts immediately clicked their tongues in amazement. Good heavens, a bowl of noodles that expensive! No wonder they'd never seen this shopkeeper make it before.

The shopkeeper wasn't afraid of anyone here getting greedy at the sight of money. He never left the Ghost Market anyway. In fact, he'd be delighted if someone lost their head in the Ghost Market and tried something foolish; he might just get new ingredients out of it.

Looking toward the man leaving with Grey Bird, he thought, "This person knows about Double-Head Broth and even enjoys it. They must be an Old Ghost who's been around for at least two or three hundred years. Such Old Ghosts aren't those who died hundreds of years ago and only recently appeared, but those who have *existed* for hundreds of years. Those who have withstood The Last Dharma without dissipating and are still here today are certainly no ordinary characters. The last time his master made Double-Head Broth noodles, it must have been three hundred years ago."

「On another side」

The man made his way to the Righteous Store. It was still open for business, but the Shopkeeper had changed.

The man wanted to buy a vessel body there. Unfortunately, there had recently been an incident, so the sale of such bodies was strictly regulated; buyers definitely had to register their names and imprints.

"Sir, you probably don't know. A few days ago, something happened... and because of that, Lord Zhu was absolutely furious."

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