“Wait, wait! So how exactly did your ribs get broken?” Qi Buyu asked, biting into a steaming hot meat bun as she stared in shock at Ji Shixing lying on the hospital bed. Her big doe eyes sparkled with lively curiosity.
Ji Shixing’s gaze had been glued to the bun in Qi Buyu’s hand the whole time. She hadn’t eaten a thing since the night before, and now all the mouthwatering aromas drifting through the room had her salivating.
She didn’t forget to shoot a glare at Song Qian slurping noodles nearby. “Song Qian kicked them.”
At least she had enough conscience to bring her to the hospital. Ji Shixing swallowed hard again at the sight of that bun.
Just as Qi Buyu reached for her third bun, she noticed Ji Shixing’s constant gulping and hesitantly offered, “Want one?”
She immediately snatched it back. “Oh, right—the doctor said no solids yet.”
Ji Shixing: “…”
Qi Buyu plopped down next to Song Qian, casually handing her a bun like they were old pals. “Sister, you’re badass! You must’ve trained in something like Sanda, right?”
Ji Shixing’s eyes went wide. “???”
Badass!? She was badass!? Her ribs were snapped because this woman was badass!?
Song Qian glanced awkwardly at the fuming patient on the bed. “I’ve done a bit of taekwondo.”
As they chatted, the ward door swung open. Lin Qing and Liu Changsheng walked in one after the other.
“We’re back. We handed that troublesome little snake over to the local Investigation Group. What kind of Guardian Immortal is that thing? Just a Half-Spirit mooching off meals at Song Fu’s household. Though their family’s luck has been rotten lately.”
Spotting Liu Changsheng, Qi Buyu waved her over enthusiastically and offered her the remaining buns from the bag.
Liu Changsheng glanced at them and turned away. “I don’t eat meat.”
“Oh, you don’t?” Qi Buyu said regretfully. She pulled one out anyway and sighed. “Can’t waste food. Since you won’t have it, I’ll reluctantly finish your leftovers.”
Liu Changsheng’s mouth twitched almost imperceptibly. She turned her attention to Ji Shixing on the bed.
“I heard your ribs got kicked in?”
Song Qian: “…” Don’t ask, don’t ask—soon the whole town would know she’d busted someone’s ribs.
Sure enough, Ji Shixing jabbed a finger at Song Qian and nodded furiously.
Lin Qing had just learned about it too. He’d assumed the giant python was responsible…
Song Qian buried her face in her noodles, thinking, Serves her right for dressing up as a ghost to scare me.
Wait…
“Damn it!”
Lin Qing set his stuff down, about to take a sip of water, but Song Qian’s horrified expression made him freeze with the cup in hand. “What?”
“Wang Dachuan and his wife!”
They’d rushed to the hospital overnight and completely forgotten about the couple in the pavilion!
Lin Qing gulped down some water, grabbed his cloth bag, and bolted for the door. He paused at the threshold and glanced back at Liu Changsheng. “Senior, wanna come check it out?”
Liu Changsheng twirled her prayer beads and gave him a cool look. “No.”
“Alright.” Lin Qing sounded a little disappointed.
By the time Lin Qing and Song Qian sped back to Weishui Village, a crowd had already gathered around the village square. People pointed and whispered, their faces etched with fear.
Lin Qing parked the car and hurried over, flinging open the door.
“What happened!?”
Grandma Song spotted him and waved frantically. “Little Lin, over here!”
The crowd parted for him. Song Qian trailed behind Lin Qing and Grandma Song. Out of sight, Ji Wuxin slumped bonelessly against her back like a rag doll.
“Big Chuan—”
At the center of the throng were Wang Dachuan and Xiuhe. Wang Dachuan lay on the ground with a face ashen as iron, his arms rigidly outstretched. His fingers were bent in an impossibly twisted position. Song Qian tested it herself— no normal person could contort like that.
“What’s wrong with him?” Lin Qing knelt, pried open Wang Dachuan’s eyelids, then checked his wrist and abdomen.
Xiuhe latched onto Lin Qing like a drowning woman grasping a lifeline. She knelt before him, kowtowing frantically. Before he could stop her, blood smeared her forehead.
“Master, save us! Master, please save our family!”
Lin Qing pulled her up. “Get up first. Tell me what happened to him.”
Xiuhe’s hair was a tangled mess, her clothes soaked as if she’d been dragged from the water. Her face bore fresh bruises and handprints.
“Last night, after Sensen and…” Xiuhe faltered, unsure how to explain Ji Shixing. She sneaked a glance at Song Qian standing nearby.
“…Ji Jiusheng’s niece left, Big Chuan and I stayed in the pavilion. Everything was fine at first, but right before dawn, the whole thing started shaking—violently. It threw us into the lake. I was so scared, I flailed to shore…”
She broke down crying. “When I reached the bank, Big Chuan hadn’t come up. He… he’s a strong swimmer…”
Xiuhe couldn’t continue, tears streaming like a burst dam. Grandma Song filled in the rest.
“Xiuhe ran to fetch Er Jinzi, who was up early for work. He dove in and groped around forever before finding Big Chuan. When they pulled him out, he wasn’t breathing. They pounded the water out of him before he gasped back to life.”
“Who’s Er Jinzi?” Lin Qing asked, scanning the villagers behind him.
“Me, me, me!” A scrawny, short dark-skinned man pushed through the crowd with a toothy grin.
Lin Qing frowned. Wang Dachuan was built like a tank; most men couldn’t haul him, let alone from the water…
“Did you find him in the middle of the lake?”
Er Jinzi pondered, eyes rolling upward. “Nah, I didn’t dare go too deep. People have died in that lake—scary stuff.”
“Just a step or two out. I touched Big Chuan’s head!” His eyes bulged as he gestured wildly. “Scared the legs right off me! Who stands in the water when they drown? That’s spooky!”
“You’re saying he was standing in the water?” Lin Qing latched on. “You’re sure?”
“Dead sure!” Er Jinzi insisted earnestly. “Good lord, my hand brushed a face cold as ice. Thought I’d nabbed a water ghost.”
The villagers behind him murmured in skepticism.
Lin Qing felt the faint rise and fall of Wang Dachuan’s chest and turned to Xiuhe. “Any weeds around? Gather some and lay them at the doorway. Have him lie on them.”
Xiuhe’s face drained of color. Who makes a living person sleep on a weed pile?
It was midsummer, the noon sun scorching enough to singe hair. The crowd dispersed. A few sturdy young men carried Wang Dachuan home. Xiuhe piled thick weeds at the threshold, and he lay stiffly atop them.
Song Qian watched Lin Qing scramble for talisman paper, brush, and ink earlier, now calmly sipping tea on a stool. Curiosity got the better of her. “You know what’s going on?”
“The ghost of that female corpse visited last night. She took Big Chuan’s soul.”
“So you know how to deal with her?” Song Qian recalled the magic formation that had blocked her last night. Out of respect for Lin Qing, she hadn’t pressed it.
“Nope.” Lin Qing set down his cup and grabbed the car keys—Ji Shixing’s car, technically.
“So, I’m off to call in reinforcements.”
“What about here!?” Song Qian eyed Wang Dachuan’s eerie pose, chills creeping up her spine.
Lin Qing’s voice echoed back: “Watch him for now. I’ll be quick!”
Song Qian silently cursed him out.
She picked a spot far from the door, ready to scroll for a show.
“Not this one.”
The screen slid up slowly, paused two seconds, then slid again.
After much deliberation, Ji Wuxin settled on an unfinished family melodrama.
“This one!”
Song Qian itched to smash the phone in her face but bit her tongue. Just then, footsteps approached outside.
It was Ji Jiusheng.
“Uncle Ji?” Song Qian jumped up, pocketing her phone. “What brings you here?”
Ji Jiusheng chuckled softly. “Can’t I visit?” He really couldn’t wait any longer.
“Of course you can, it’s just…” Song Qian hesitated. Uncle Ji must be here about that dinner conversation. How was she supposed to broach ghosts and spirits?
“You can see ghosts, can’t you?” Ji Jiusheng stared intently at Song Qian, knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists.
He’d waited over twenty years for this day. Song Qian and Lin Qing’s arrival had reignited his hope.
Song Qian froze in stunned silence. Even Ji Wuxin let out a surprised “Eh?” “How does he know?”
“…Okay,” Song Qian answered honestly.
Ji Jiusheng’s eyes instantly reddened. He even began scanning the area around Song Qian. “Then do you have… a girl by your side?”
Song Qian subconsciously glanced at Ji Wuxin. Sure enough!
That Jade was the one Uncle Ji had given her. She knew there was something suspicious about it!
Seeing her reaction, Ji Jiusheng immediately followed her gaze to the side. “She’s here? She’s right here!?”
“Uncle Ji…?”
He seemed to realize he’d lost his composure. The impeccable manners drilled into him since childhood helped him regain his calm quickly, though tears still streamed uncontrollably from his eyes. “Sorry, Sensen.”
“Uncle Ji, do you know something?” Song Qian lifted her hand to touch the jade hanging at her chest, as if dropping a hint.
Ji Jiusheng noticed the gesture, and his entire body relaxed at once—like a heavy weight had finally lifted from his heart. A more genuine smile bloomed on his face. Though he was now in his forties with gray streaks at his temples, Song Qian could still catch a glimpse in that smile of how dashing and full of vigor he’d been as a young man.
“Sensen, there are some things you really ought to know. I’ll head back and let your grandma know first. Once you’ve sorted things out here, I’ll fill you in.”
Ji Jiusheng left once more, humming one of his favorite tunes from his youth. He was in high spirits.
Ji Wuxin snorted. “What a weirdo.” She didn’t like the old man one bit.
Song Qian kept Ji Wuxin company for the next few hours, watching four or five episodes of the TV drama together. Finally, Lin Qing returned, trailed by the upbeat Qi Buyu and Liu Changsheng.
So these were the reinforcements.
“Didn’t you say you weren’t coming, Senior?” Song Qian asked, curious how Lin Qing had managed to convince Liu Changsheng.
Liu Changsheng let out a sigh, thinking of the extra fifty thousand in her bank account. “She paid too much.”
Song Qian: “Huh?”
