Netherworld Pavilion: Keeper of Souls

The bright lights of Shanghai shimmered below, a sea of neon signs and high-rise buildings that stretched into the heavens. The city's pulse was electric, vibrant with energy. Yet, high above the bustling streets, within the glass windows of a luxury office, Li Zhen sat motionless, staring blankly at the view. His fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of a pristine letter that had arrived only an hour ago.

The letter was simple, nothing like the kind of communication he was used to in his professional life. No brand logos, no flowery language—just stark black ink on high-quality parchment. Yet, it bore an air of authority that tugged at him, almost as if it held secrets too heavy to reveal.

It read:

"You have inherited the Netherworld Pavilion, Keeper of Souls. Come to the location at once."

There was no name, no return address, just a symbol he didn't recognize: a circle, inside which were several interlocking lines, forming a complex pattern. The letter had appeared in his office, seemingly out of nowhere. As a senior executive at a real estate firm, Li Zhen was used to dealing with high-end clients and prestigious properties, but nothing like this.

"What is this?" he muttered to himself, squinting at the cryptic message.

His mind raced, trying to make sense of it. The name Netherworld Pavilion conjured strange images—ancient temples, forgotten legends, spirits of the dead—but Li Zhen quickly dismissed them as fanciful thoughts. His world was rooted in the practical, in business, and in the reality of modern Shanghai. But despite his skepticism, he couldn't shake the feeling that the letter was important, something he couldn't ignore.

"Maybe it's some sort of prank," he thought, setting the letter down. But even as the words left his lips, the weight of the message seemed to grow heavier.

Unable to concentrate on work, Li Zhen stood, paced around his office, and glanced at the clock. It was already evening. After a few moments of contemplation, his curiosity got the better of him. "What harm could it do to check it out?" he muttered.

The letter had mentioned a location. Li Zhen needed answers.

He arrived at the address in the letter just after sunset. It was located in a quiet part of the city, an area he had never visited before. The streets grew narrower, and the towering skyscrapers gave way to older, more traditional buildings. Ancient temples stood beside neglected alleyways, their faded stone walls covered in vines. The air was thick with an aura of mystery, as if time itself had slowed down in this forgotten corner of Shanghai.

Li Zhen stepped out of his car, his heart pounding in his chest. The street was eerily quiet, the hum of the city fading away as he walked. The only sounds were the rustling of the leaves and the distant footsteps of a lone pedestrian, their figure vanishing into the shadows.

And then, he saw it.

At the end of the street, almost hidden by a labyrinth of old buildings, stood an old hotel. It was a magnificent structure, its architecture unlike anything he had seen before in the city. The hotel had an almost ethereal quality to it, as if it was not fully part of the modern world. The grand entrance was flanked by large stone lions, their eyes seemingly alive, guarding the door. There was a sense of foreboding in the air, yet at the same time, it beckoned him.

Li Zhen took a deep breath and walked toward the entrance. The door opened with a soft creak, revealing a grand lobby. The interior was far more majestic than the exterior, with high ceilings adorned with intricate designs, chandeliers hanging from above, casting a warm glow over the polished marble floors. The air inside was thick with the scent of incense, but something else lingered—a strange, almost metallic taste that he couldn't quite place.

"Welcome," a soft voice called out, snapping him from his thoughts.

He turned to see an elderly man standing at the front desk, his face expressionless but his eyes sharp. His robes were an unusual shade of midnight blue, and his hair was tied back in a traditional knot, giving him an air of ancient wisdom.

"I… I'm Li Zhen," he stammered, still trying to make sense of his situation. "I… I received a letter…"

"Ah, yes," the man said, nodding as if he had been expecting him. "I am Gu Ling, the manager of the Netherworld Pavilion. You are the new owner, yes?"

Li Zhen blinked, feeling a chill run down his spine. "New owner?" he repeated. "I don't understand. I didn't sign anything. I don't even know how I—"

"Everything is as it should be," Gu Ling interrupted, his tone calm but firm. "The inheritance has already been processed. You are now the master of the Netherworld Pavilion. You will learn soon enough the responsibilities that come with it."

Li Zhen stood there, dumbfounded. This had to be a joke. A prank. A misunderstanding. But the old man's unwavering certainty left no room for doubt.

Gu Ling continued, his voice now quieter, almost reverent. "This is not just a hotel. This is a sanctuary, a place between the worlds of the living and the dead. The souls who pass through here, they seek peace, rest, or resolution. It is your duty to ensure that they find it."

Li Zhen swallowed hard. "I… I don't know what you mean. I'm just a businessman. I don't know anything about spirits or… or anything supernatural."

Gu Ling smiled gently. "You will learn in time. The hotel has chosen you because you have the potential. You have the ability to grow and to become more than what you are now."

A strange pulse of energy filled the room, and for a moment, Li Zhen thought he felt something shift in the air—something ancient, almost alive. It was as if the hotel itself had acknowledged him, welcoming him into its fold.

"The hotel will guide you," Gu Ling continued. "But only if you accept its challenges. You will begin your journey at once. There are tasks to be done. Souls to guide. The hotel will grow with your progress, and in turn, so will you."

Li Zhen opened his mouth to protest, but no words came out. His mind was reeling, trying to make sense of everything.

"You must go to the back," Gu Ling instructed, motioning to a door behind him. "Your first task awaits."

As Li Zhen passed through the door, he entered a large, dimly lit room that seemed to stretch endlessly into the distance. At the center was a massive, ornate stone pedestal with intricate carvings of celestial beings and ancient symbols. On the pedestal was an old scroll, and beside it, a small wooden box.

"The task has been set," Gu Ling's voice echoed from behind him. "Complete it, and you will begin your path."

Li Zhen approached the pedestal cautiously. As his fingers brushed against the scroll, a surge of energy coursed through his body. It was as if the very essence of the hotel was speaking to him, urging him forward.

Without knowing why, he unrolled the scroll. The words glowed faintly, shimmering in the air, and a new voice—soft, yet commanding—whispered into his mind: "You have been chosen. The task is simple: guide the lost soul, and in doing so, unlock your first power."

Before he could comprehend the message, the air around him shimmered and warped, and the room seemed to melt away. In its place was a vast, dark void—one filled with echoes of voices and glimpses of fleeting, translucent figures. Li Zhen's heart raced as he realized what he had to do.

A soul—a spirit—was waiting for him.

The hotel had begun its work.