Happy Little Farmer
Chapter 765

Chapter 765: Chapter 765

Yang Fan opened the piece of paper and glanced at it. It was filled with a dense list of names.

"Old master, what’s the purpose of this?"

Mr. Fan said solemnly, "These are the people you need to bring back. We’ve combed through everyone here and only managed to find these. As for the others, there are still dozens for whom we couldn’t find any identifying information."

"The souls of these people will be brought back by us using other methods."

Yang Fan took a closer look at the list and suddenly felt his scalp tingle—it was nearly two to three hundred names.

The old master really was considerate of him!

"Master, why can’t we bring these people back all at once? Why do I need to go find them one by one?" Yang Fan asked, confused.

"If it were possible, we’d certainly do it that way," Mr. Fan replied. "But we have no idea what might come back when we summon them, so each needs to be verified individually. Otherwise, we might turn one disaster into countless other disasters."

"When we don’t have any identifying details about the other party, this is the only method we can use. Different families may have variations in their approach, but the general principle is the same—there’s no better way."

"But as long as we have the person’s name, we can summon them directly."

Mr. Fan looked gravely at Yang Fan and instructed, "Every name on this list ties to a life. Be extremely cautious. Start slowly, and once we’ve dealt with matters on the other end, we’ll lend you a hand. It’s not like all of these people are solely your responsibility."

"Ideally, this kind of thing would be done by the relatives of the deceased. But for the sake of societal stability, it’s better not to involve too many people, so we’ll bear the extra burden."

"In a moment, light the candle and follow its glow. As you walk, call out one name from the list—only one name at a time, never more. If something else responds, don’t hesitate to strike with the wooden mace in your hand. The entities on that path are relatively weak; with your current strength, you can handle them."

Yang Fan nodded. He understood that this job... wouldn’t be easy.

"Master, how should I bring the person back?" he asked.

Mr. Fan said gravely, "Pay close attention to what I’m about to say. Walk seven steps south, then grab the person’s shoulder and extinguish the lantern in your hand. Without making a sound, utter one phrase—’Soul, return.’"

"On that path, at this hour, south aligns with the moon’s position—rising in the south and setting in the north. After midnight, the moon’s direction shifts to the north. No matter what you encounter on your way back, don’t engage with it. Just walk seven steps south."

Yang Fan committed the instructions firmly to memory. Suddenly, he frowned and asked, "But I’m holding a candle. How does it turn into a lantern? Are the two not different?"

"They’re the same thing. But in that world, the candle in your hand will manifest as a lantern. If the candle looks like it’s about to burn out, or the flame starts flickering, return immediately—don’t proceed further," Mr. Fan warned in a stern tone.

Yang Fan noted it all down.

He realized this might be what people often referred to as—walking through the shadow world.

He’d heard a village elder mention such things before.

If memory served correctly, it involved someone possessing certain unique qualities, catching the attention of beings from the other realm or the underworld. They would then pass on their knowledge in dreams and summon the person when needed to assist.

Though the old man liked to claim hearsay tales as his own experiences, Yang Fan always found it hard to determine if what he said was real or fabricated.

"Got everything memorized?" Mr. Fan asked. "If there’s anything you’re still unclear about, ask now. Once you’re down there, it’ll be too late. This task concerns your very life—there’s no room for recklessness. Even the slightest mistake could mean you won’t be able to return."

Yang Fan carefully thought back and firmly nodded, "I’ve memorized everything."

Mr. Fan still seemed somewhat uneasy.

After a moment of silence, he suddenly said, "Almost forgot to mention—you’ve got those shoes. If something happens along the way that you can’t control, the shoes will help bring you back."

"I can bring those things with me?" Yang Fan asked, puzzled.

If his understanding was correct, this should involve his soul leaving his body. How could he take physical objects from reality along with him?

"The wooden mace and the shoes can go with you, but the ruler cannot," Mr. Fan explained. "The ruler is an item of Confucian tradition, imbued with a strong, noble qi that cannot enter that realm. If something like that were to go in, you’d stand out like the moon in the night sky to the entities there and attract countless attention instantly."

Upon hearing this, Yang Fan wasted no time and handed the ruler directly to Mr. Fan.

To be safe, it was better not to carry such a thing at all.

What if the improbable happened?

He wasn’t about to gamble with his life.

"You don’t need to be this cautious. That kind of item generally won’t be able to enter," Mr. Fan said, annoyed.

Yang Fan shook his head resolutely. "Better safe than sorry. While it generally won’t, I fear the exceptions."

"Fine, I’ll keep it for you then," Mr. Fan said, putting away the ancient, unadorned ruler. "This mission may be heavy, but it’s also an opportunity for growth. Once you’ve entered this line of work, familiarity with that path and its destination is essential. In time, you’ll know that place as well as you know this world."

Yang Fan had already mentally prepared himself for this.

Becoming stronger always came at a cost.

Being a strong individual was never easy.

"Old master, understood. Let’s begin," Yang Fan said.

Mr. Fan nodded. "You go first. I’ll check the situation."

It was Yang Fan’s first time performing such a task, so Mr. Fan was uneasy.

Yang Fan sat cross-legged on the filthy curb, feeling around his belongings to confirm the wooden mace and embroidered shoes were in place. Only then did he carefully light the white candle, gripping it in his left hand and entering a visualization state.

The steady glow of the yellow candlelight silently illuminated his face and slowly expanded.

The world subtly began to shift.

As the candlelight faded away and his vision grew clear again, Yang Fan found himself standing in an entirely different space.

A blood-red moon hung high in the sky, its surroundings shrouded in a gray haze filled with an inscrutable mist.

Beyond the roughly ten-meter radius around him that remained visible, everything else was deeply concealed within the fog.

Yang Fan stood on a strange dirt road.

Though the yellow dirt beneath his feet looked normal, it felt harder than concrete, as if it hadn’t seen rain for ages, marked by fine cracks.

Just as Mr. Fan described, the candle in Yang Fan’s left hand had transformed into an ancient, slightly dirty lantern.

It even had bloodied handprints on it.

"Trying to scare people with this... Definitely not a decent place," Yang Fan muttered while shaking his head.