Chapter Twenty-Three: Trouble

Zhao Yuan could not understand why Monk Jishi, whom she had only asked a simple question, was now flushed with rage and glaring at her with murderous intent. She wondered why he was being so standoffish when he had claimed he could handle the situation himself.

The monk’s dignity was reduced to that of a boorish hillbilly in Zhao Yuan's eyes. Zhao Qian laughed until she shook, a sight of breathtaking beauty. Yu Xiaoxue, meanwhile, remained oblivious, just a bystander enjoying the spectacle.

"Then, let's start with the third daughter's side," the Zhao family matriarch said with a cough, though she was surprised to find herself picking up the vulgar vernacular of her third daughter.

Years ago, the third daughter had been willful, dropping out of high school to run off with a street thug. The Zhao family had tried to disown her multiple times, but life took a strange turn. By some stroke of luck, her husband had managed to build a successful career over the span of a decade, shocking everyone in the family. However, this success had also fueled Zhao Yuan’s arrogance; she now believed money could command the heavens, held little affection for her kin, and spent her time showing off and bossing others around.

"Mom, you’re the one who understands how things work," Zhao Yuan said, immediately delighted.

"Zhao Xi, Zhao Zhou, you two brothers take the other masters to the estate to rest, then bring your children to the old man's residence," the matriarch commanded, preparing to be wheeled to her quarters.

Zhao Yuan rushed over to take the wheelchair and began chatting with the matriarch, while the group of monks followed them.

Zhao Xi’s pale face flushed with anger. He had never had a good impression of his wayward younger sister, so he just snorted and led the group of Taoist masters away to rest. Since there was professional rivalry between the masters, one could not openly watch or critique another’s work, so only family and friends were permitted to observe.

The Zhao estate was fully equipped with game rooms, gyms, and standard amenities. Seeing the hosts' instructions, most of the guests decided not to follow, as they were bored with the repetitive rituals and preferred to gamble, play mahjong, or retreat to their guest rooms to sleep.

Because I was a friend of the family, I followed Zhao Qian along with Zhao Xi and about thirty other relatives to the old man’s residence. Zhao Xi didn't seem to understand why I and Yu Xiaoxue were tagging along, but since we were Zhao Qian’s friends, he said nothing. He felt this daughter of his at least had some sense, unlike his son, who spent his days drinking and fighting with ruffians.

The old man’s residence was quite luxurious. The living room was furnished with Vietnamese rosewood, decorated with exquisite ornaments and miniature bonsai trees. Upon entering, a refreshing, crisp atmosphere greeted us.

"Good feng shui," I remarked. Even I could sense its power. It was truly terrifying that a place with such feng shui could still attract ghosts.

Zhao Qian nodded and smiled at me.

The dozen monks seemed highly experienced. They set up an incense altar, coiled incense, various ritual implements, prayer mats, and wooden fish, leaving nothing out.

Everything was ready by the time the afternoon passed. The monks, showing no signs of hunger, began to strike their wooden fish and chant. I asked Zhao Qian if she understood the chant. She frowned, her delicate brows knitting together, and said it sounded like the "Shurangama Mantra." I had heard it was a mantra of merit; once chanted, the merit would spread, and those who had been directly or indirectly harmed by the old man’s past misdeeds would come to claim it. Once the debts were settled, the matter would be resolved.

After hearing this, I felt the hundred thousand or so spent wasn't entirely wasted; these monks had some real skills.

How could one be a monk without strong concentration? Two hours passed quickly, and nothing happened. Yu Xiaoxue had even fallen asleep leaning against me.

"It seems there won't be any results for a while. I can't tell what they're trying to do, so let's go eat something," I said with a wry smile. In truth, I didn't understand the monks' ritual at all. If it were Taoist magic, I might have recognized a few traces from my grandmother’s books, but I was completely clueless about the monks' rites.

Besides, it was still early. At this rate, either the monks were still warming up, or Jishi’s ability was insufficient; the yin energy in the hall hadn't risen at all, and no vengeful spirits had been summoned to collect their debts.

We were sitting on mats behind Zhao Xi. When I spoke, he shot me a stern, dissatisfied look. While subtle, he clearly looked at Zhao Qian with blame, implying: *What kind of friends have you brought here?*

Zhao Qian looked embarrassed and was about to intervene, but I spoke first: "Uncle Zhao, I don't really follow what's going on, so I’ll head out. If you’re hungry, Zhao Qian and I can bring you some vegetarian food."

Zhao Xi’s forehead vein throbbed, but he remained polite. "Thank you, but I'm not hungry yet. If you are, go ahead and eat."

Zhao Qian knew her father's character all too well. He hated it when people couldn't see a task through to the end. Since she hadn't brought Zhou Xian and her friends were now backing out, she knew her standing in his eyes had plummeted.

"Brother Tian, why don't we sit a bit longer?" Zhao Qian tried to salvage my relationship with her father.

But her brother, Zhao He, was impatient. "Brother Tian said we're leaving, why are you still staring? Sis, aren't you studying Taoism? Why listen to those monks making all that noise? Let's go."

Zhao He actually felt I was more capable than the masters. Seeing his sister still hesitating made her seem a bit naive.

Zhao Xi finally snapped, barking, "Zhao He! Listen if you want, but don't drag your sister into it. Get out!"

Zhao He frowned, thinking his father had ears like a bat, but he knew his father’s temper and stood up.

"Brother Tian, let's go. If those monks and Taoists can't handle it, we'll come back later," Zhao He said, trying to be tactful and avoid a confrontation, hoping we could clean up the mess if the others failed.

Zhao Xi, however, misunderstood, thinking Zhao He was trying to spite him and waiting for the masters to fail just so he could watch the chaos. He jumped to his feet, and if not for the crowd, he might have slapped him.

Terrified, Zhao He scrambled out of the hall.

Knowing full well what Zhao Xi thought of me now, I dragged Yu Xiaoxue out with a bitter smile. Seeing me leave, Zhao Qian stood up as well. Zhao Xi’s face turned black with rage, his fingers trembling as he pointed at his children. His expression made his thoughts clear: *I thought you had some sense, Zhao Qian, but you’re just as bad!*

Zhao Qian felt wronged and regretted coming at all, only to leave such a poor impression on her father. Still, she was convinced of my abilities, and she would rather spend time with me than listen to the monks chant.

We went to the dining area and ate a little. Zhao He was fine, sharing most of a bottle of Jinliufu liquor with me. Zhao Qian, however, barely touched her food, her face clouded with sadness.

Seeing her unhappy, I decided to go sightseeing. Zhao He immediately agreed and took the lead, heading to the nearby and famous Liancheng Mountain.

During the French colonial period, Liancheng Mountain had been the site of a fortress built by the Qing army to defend the southern gate. The mountain was steep, the waters deep, and the scenery beautiful. Looking down from the summit, the river wound around the landscape, creating excellent feng shui.

Zhao Qian remarked that it was a place of great geomantic power, though she frowned as she looked toward a vast, empty area.

I followed her gaze and felt waves of gloomy energy gathering below, forming a bizarre field. I couldn't help but ask why the yin energy there was so heavy.

Zhao Qian explained that since the founding of the country, this area had been an execution ground for criminals. Through the warlord conflicts, the civil war, the Cultural Revolution, and various crackdowns, countless people had died unjustly here. This had ruined the feng shui of the entire area; once night fell, ordinary people dared not approach it.

I took note of this immediately.

By the time we descended, three or four hours had passed, and the sky was darkening. Yu Xiaoxue was exhausted and didn't want to go back to the estate, finding it too boring. Zhao He, hearing this, also started yawning—though he had actually woken up too early and was afraid of seeing his father—and used it as an excuse to leave.

Zhao Qian and I had to drive back to the city. We dropped Zhao He off at the Ronghe Bar in the county and returned Yu Xiaoxue to her apartment.

Having made a promise to Zhao Qian, I had no reason not to return to the estate. She was genuinely concerned for her grandfather, so we both tacitly agreed to head back.

On the way, I couldn't drive after drinking, so Zhao Qian took the wheel. She was in a foul mood and remained silent. Besides, talking to her while she was driving was asking for trouble, so our time alone was wasted in silence.

The little vengeful spirit, however, was in high spirits. She was a seven or eight-year-old girl who had been stifled in the spirit urn for a day. Finally out, she excitedly wrapped her arms around my neck, chattering away.

I didn't understand ghost language, so it just tickled my ears, which was quite unsettling.

Zhao Qian, seeing the little spirit, remained nervous, leaning against the window and keeping her eyes on the road. We had nothing more to say.

Back at the estate, I called the little spirit back into the urn. The parking lot was mostly empty, with only a few cars left—likely those of the close relatives and the masters.

There were only a few tables left at the banquet. Zhao Yi was drinking with two drivers, likely staying the night. Seeing us return together—without Yu Xiaoxue or Zhao He—Zhao Yi shot us a cold, sneering look before returning to his drinking.

The estate felt cold and desolate. I felt the yin energy had indeed intensified, yet looking toward the main hall, nothing had changed. The monks were still there, chanting for the dead.

I told Zhao Qian to wait for me and walked into the kitchen without ceremony. Seeing a plate of sweet and sour spare ribs and dried soy-sauce fish still intact, I prepared to bring them out for her.

As I picked up the plate, I suddenly saw Zhao Yi walk in, his face dark, glaring at me. My heart skipped a beat. Was he drunk and looking for a fight?

Zhao Yi reeked of alcohol. Without a word, he picked up a sharp knife from the kitchen and stared at me with a blank, eerie smile.