Chapter 39: The Past Ties Unraveled

Silence.

There had been no sound for a long time. Wang Chenghao felt a mix of emotions in his heart—bitterness, sweetness, sorrow, anger—all tangled together. Finally, it came out as a hoarse question: "Your daughter... what is her name? I mean... do you know her online name?"

The old man nodded. "I still remember. It was quite a beautiful name. I think it was... 'That Moment of Wind, Flowers, Snow, and Moon.'"

Wang Chenghao pressed his hands tightly to his face and sat quietly on the sofa, saying nothing.

He knew... it was this damned woman who had ruined his family!

But he did not know the whole truth. Qin Ye had never given him that recording pen.

Qin Ye thought that, since the person was already gone, it was better to leave the son with a flawless memory. The debts of a father should not be paid by a son who knew nothing.

Yet now, Wang Chenghao could not tell what he truly felt inside.

Families destroyed... theirs was not the only one.

After Zhou Dongfang died, he waited for news of his daughter, who had thrown herself from a building long ago. He waited for years, only to meet a spirit.

"What are you planning to do?" Zhou Dongfang clasped his hands together, resting his forehead against them, his reddened eyes fixed on Qin Ye.

"Take him away," Qin Ye replied coldly. "He was wrong. First of all, there is no corpse in the coffin upstairs. The body was carried away to Xichuan by the corpse porter. Apparently, someone told him that his daughter could live on in another way, so he agreed."

He recalled the first time he had seen that tormented, wretched ghost.

Condemned by all, slandered by many.

So... had she borne the sins of her family as well?

"Secondly, his daughter never returned. He is a household spirit and sensed her soul had dissolved. So... he wanted to use the soul of a living person to 'nourish' his daughter. Once such a thought takes hold, it is only a matter of time before he becomes a fierce ghost."

Qin Ye looked deeply at Zhou Dongfang. "You don't understand the world of souls at all. Your methods are useless, and I cannot allow you to remain here any longer. Once you harbor such thoughts, you are no longer a household spirit. That is your duty—do you understand?"

The old man gave a bitter smile and lifted his pant leg. Visibly, his foot had turned completely black and seemed almost ethereal.

"I understand..."

A rooster's crow broke the silence—then, from the distant fields, the cackling of many chickens joined in.

The sky was turning pale, and in the light of dawn, the old man's body was growing fainter.

Qin Ye spoke calmly. "One last question."

His voice was exceedingly grave. "Back then, you allowed them to take Zhou Fangrong's body. Who... exactly came?"

"Did they ever tell you their true identities?"

Zhou Dongfang thought carefully. "No, but actually, I would never have let my daughter leave me. I know that good and evil are repaid, and I believe in the underworld. As a household spirit, I naturally understand some things. I knew what my daughter had done was wrong and would have no good outcome."

He took a deep breath, a hint of fear in his eyes. "But... they showed me something! It was almost magical—I can't even recall when I nodded in agreement. When I woke, my daughter's body was already gone."

"What was it?"

"It was a symbol—very ancient. Just looking at it, you could feel the weight of ages... I—I’ll draw it for you!"

A household spirit could still touch small physical objects, so handling a pen was not a problem. Zhou Dongfang drew on a sheet of paper and handed it to Qin Ye.

Qin Ye examined it carefully, his brow deeply furrowed.

Indeed...

This symbol was not ordinary.

Some things simply do not fit with modern civilization—one glance reveals their ancient origins. This symbol was like that.

It was a wolf's head.

Resembling a totem from antiquity, the drawing bore a sense of timelessness. As Qin Ye stared at the wolf’s head, it seemed as if the wolf’s eyes gazed back at him.

This was a crucial clue to uncovering the mastermind behind the puppeteer!

Qin Ye put the paper away carefully and nodded to Zhou Dongfang. "Are you ready?"

The light grew brighter, and Zhou Dongfang's form became more and more insubstantial. Smiling, he looked at his own hand. "Actually, after waiting so long, I am tired too."

"Let's go." Qin Ye nodded. A ghostly blade appeared in his hand. With a gentle slash, Zhou Dongfang's body dissolved into a wisp of blue smoke and was drawn into the blade.

"Rest for a bit. When you wake, it’s time to move on," he said, patting Wang Chenghao's shoulder.

"Don’t worry—there are no ghosts here. The woman you saw was just an echo of Zhou Fangrong in life. Remember her black dress? Now that Zhou Dongfang is gone, she has no reason to linger. There’s a coffin on the second floor, but no one inside."

"The blood on the first floor—that was paint spilled by busybodies after Zhou Fangrong's accident. Her memorial tablet is on the shelf. The old man, though he wanted to harm us, ultimately had some conscience—he didn't go through with it. In fact, he kept urging us to leave, probably because his conscience was struggling too."

Wang Chenghao, still in a daze, made his way upstairs.

Qin Ye did not sleep.

He went to Zhou Fangrong's coffin. A cold wind swept through; he had already taken on the form of a ghostly messenger.

He reached into his shirt and withdrew... a recording pen.

"For even a ghostly messenger to offer you a tribute after death—you really commanded respect," he said with a smile, and suddenly a flame sprang to life in his hand, reducing the pen to black ash.

Strangely, the black ash seemed almost alive, turning into a swirl of smoke that circled the four candles around. All four candles extinguished at once, and the smoke dispersed, falling upon the coffin.

"Rest in peace," Qin Ye said, patting the coffin. "You were at fault, and so was Wang Zemin. Right and wrong, after death, are meaningless."

"You killed his whole family. Only now do I realize it was to avenge your own parents... To seek justice for one’s parents is understandable, but even the pitiful have their hateful side. In your life... I cannot pity you at all."

"Rest assured, I gave the pen to no one. Not Wang Chenghao, not your father. Let them hold on to their memories. Let them keep the most perfect image of their loved ones in their hearts."

He gently closed the door.

With a click, the bond between the Wang and Zhou families was finally severed.

Just before the door shut, he seemed to hear a low, mournful wail, like a heartbroken soul crying out to the night sky.

He went downstairs and collapsed onto the sofa for a rest.

He awoke again to the sound of pounding at the door.

Everyone’s face was filled with anxiety: uncles, aunts, many young people. They were pounding the door, shouting loudly.

"Don’t fall asleep in there!" "Wake up! Wake up!!" "Whatever you do, don’t sleep here! There are ghosts—real ghosts!!"

Qin Ye rubbed his eyes and went to the door. As soon as he touched the lock, it snapped and fell to the floor.

Unlike the spotless lock he’d seen the night before, this one was covered in verdigris, as if it hadn’t been opened for years.

"Young man! Are you alright?" an aunt rushed in, grabbed him, and tried to pull him outside. "Hurry, hurry! This place... this place isn’t clean!"

"I’m fine." Qin Ye smiled, gently pulling her hand away. "I don’t even know when I ended up here last night. Oh right, my classmate is still upstairs."

"Go call him down, quickly!" "It’s daytime—I’ll go!" Two young men hurried upstairs to rouse the bleary-eyed Wang Chenghao.

Surrounded by a babble of concern, Wang Chenghao gradually came to his senses. The two followed the crowd out of the inn and took another look back—only to find... the building was even more decrepit than when they had arrived the night before.

The sign for "Home Inn" hung crooked, covered in cobwebs. The whole building was mottled and dilapidated, plaster peeling off the walls. It looked as if no one had entered in years.

"Kid, you have some luck," a middle-aged man remarked, cigarette dangling from his mouth. "A few years back, an old couple died in there. Since then, every night, people see the old man come out to run the shop. Spooky, isn't it?"

"Who says otherwise..." the kind-hearted aunt sighed. "These days... no matter what happened with his daughter, Old Zhou and his wife were good people... If only these young folks knew when to show some mercy with their words."

Wang Chenghao said nothing. Overnight, he seemed to have matured considerably. After thanking everyone, he pulled Qin Ye into the car.

"In such a hurry?" The car started and sped toward Bao’an City. Qin Ye leaned against the window, speaking casually.

Wang Chenghao shook his head. "If I stayed any longer... I’d just feel even more stifled inside."

"You’ll get used to it. Someday, you might even become my assistant."

Wang Chenghao shook his head again, this time firmly. "I think I can handle logistics, but... I never want to see anything like this again."

Qin Ye laughed. "You know, I used to feel the same way."

"Oh? What changed you?"

"After seeing enough, you change. The price of growing up... is perhaps indifference."

"Don’t make it sound so bleak, I’m only eighteen!"

"Oh, and hypocrisy too."

The voices of the two young men gradually faded as the car rolled on. A few hours later, the three large characters for "Bao’an City" came into view atop the toll station.

There were many vehicles, and movement was slow.

Though Wang Chenghao, seasoned by experience, had prepared for a long siege—water, bread, instant noodles, power bank, all ready—no one could have guessed that they would wait for two whole hours!

"Good grief!!" For all his supposed maturity, the teenager could no longer contain himself. He rolled his eyes and slumped over the steering wheel. "What kind of efficiency is this? Just to get into the city takes two hours! How is anyone supposed to live like this?"

Knock, knock, knock—the car door was rapped on. Bored, Wang Chenghao rolled down the window and saw a beaming young man, carrying a circular basket woven from bamboo.

"Not buying anything, got it all in the car," he said, waving him away.

The young man’s face fell, and he sighed, trudging off to the next vehicle under the blazing noon sun. Suddenly, Qin Ye turned around. "Wait."

"Yes, boss, what would you like? Bottled water, tissues, cigarettes, pickled chicken feet, magazines, we’ve got it all. You can pay by scan!" The youth perked right up.

He must have trained as a street vendor, Qin Ye thought.

With a smile, Qin Ye handed over a ten-yuan note. "Why is it so jammed today?"

The young man’s face lit up as he packed the purchase. "Boss, it’s not just today. For the past four months, it’s been like this every day. The drivers are all going crazy. There are way more people coming into the city than leaving. They’re all afraid if they leave, they won’t get back in."

Qin Ye blinked. "Why?"