Chapter 26: The Grand Investigation

After leaving Ethnic Street, Qin Ye headed to the hospital.

Wang Chenghao had awakened—and called him.

The hospital room was the best available, yet Qin Ye hadn’t brought a gift. The entire space gleamed white, spotless, without even a hint of disinfectant, and there was a wall-mounted television.

“My condolences,” Qin Ye said, seating himself beside the bed and feigning the cautious demeanor he used to adopt.

Wang Chenghao didn’t answer, but stared at him with piercing intensity. After a long moment, he suddenly smiled.

As he smiled, tears involuntarily began to flow. He wiped them away, fixing his gaze on Qin Ye. “Who…are you, really?”

What the—

Qin Ye blinked. “I’m your classmate, Qin Ye. Don’t you recognize me? Didn’t you call me here?”

“Still pretending?” Wang Chenghao gritted his teeth and tossed his phone over. He hung his head, silent.

Qin Ye picked it up and saw a video. He couldn’t see himself, but the crescent-shaped gash from that night was clear, as was some unknown thing engaged in battle.

Clad in the garb of a ghost envoy, wielding the Soul-Cleaving Blade, and transformed into his shinigami form, he was invisible to mortal eyes.

“What is this?” Qin Ye asked, feigning curiosity.

Wang Chenghao stared into his eyes and suddenly said, “Did you know…my house is filled with surveillance cameras?”

Qin Ye: “???”

Wang Chenghao, pallid and frail, gripped his hand tightly. “Believe me, I won’t betray you. I just want to know…how many terrifying things like this exist in the world.”

“I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”

“You do!” Wang Chenghao became agitated, his grip tightening, tears brimming. “Qin Ye, my parents were killed by such ghostly things! You’re the only person I can confide in! We’ve been classmates for years—can’t you be honest with me?”

“I have money! I can inherit tens of millions! Running your shop must be hard—I can support you! Just take me with you! Let me see what’s really going on!”

Well, well.

Man, you’ve certainly caught my attention.

What’s with this domineering CEO tone?

Qin Ye couldn’t help rolling his eyes, about to shake off his hand, when Wang Chenghao whispered, “The cameras can’t see you, but I know it was you, because…they don’t just record images, they capture audio.”

“I swear, I heard your voice.”

“I haven’t given it to anyone. Not even the police—I haven’t said a word. Qin Ye, trust me.”

Damn it…

Qin Ye’s inner monologue was practically erupting. He knew he shouldn’t have trusted Alsace, that socially detached old aunt from the nineties. Others might forget, but surveillance can reproduce everything, can you believe it?

“Is there such a thing?” Alsace was startled. “Modern society is too dangerous—is this the All-Seeing Eye?”

The hell it is!

Please, get in touch with modern society, okay? I really can’t trust you anymore! You who’d dare to show off under an infrared scope, you idiot!

“You must’ve misheard.” Deeply frustrated, Qin Ye’s face remained blankly innocent, inwardly applauding his own acting skills. He continued the performance: “I was in the shop all night yesterday. What are you talking about?”

Wang Chenghao tried to speak, but Qin Ye stood up. “Oh, right, the teacher asked me to bring you your textbooks. I’ll go fetch them for you, I’ll be back soon.”

Thud—the door closed.

Alsace remarked coolly, “Come to think of it, I wonder—having lived so long, don’t you have any human friends? Even I had a couple of mortal confidants back then.”

Qin Ye replied gloomily, “Yes… When the people around you are all white-haired, and you’re still bouncing around with a face full of acne, you really don’t want to slap yourself for being so lively?”

Alsace responded with perfect confidence, “They wouldn’t dare.”

***

True enough…

Qin Ye was stumped by that answer. The early autumn wind was still stifling; he brushed aside his bangs and finally said, “Actually, I have a few human friends… Not sure if they’re still alive. But none are in Xichuan.”

His expression twisted instantly, and he spoke through gritted teeth: “Since then, I’ve realized… some people, even in life, would collect things like paper diapers…”

“Huh? Is there a story here I don’t know? Something that makes you this unhappy? Hurry up and tell me, so I can get a laugh out of it!”

Qin Ye took a long breath. “Back then… I once came to Xichuan, met an old man named Zhang—no other hobbies, just loved painting, claimed he was some master of ink landscapes… Sadly, I’ve always lacked talent for art. We used to raise our cups to the moon together… Decades later I learned those landscape paintings were worth tens of millions apiece!”

“Damn it… Do you know how much I wanted to die then?”

“Do you know that, living among mortals, I didn’t even dare run a coffin shop for too long?”

“Can you understand the misery of having to move from place to place all the time?”

Alsace was silent for two seconds. “I don’t quite get it, but from your tone of grievance and your twisted expression, I think I’m starting to feel a bit…”

Before the words had finished, both fell silent.

Their eyes simultaneously shifted to the end of the corridor.

“One… two… three… five people in total,” Qin Ye murmured, eyes narrowing.

“Cultivators?” Alsace asked.

“Three are… One aura is familiar, another is quite strong, almost equal to mine.”

Just then, the sound of leather shoes echoed, and five individuals rounded the corner.

Qin Ye kept his head down, avoiding eye contact, pretending to fiddle with his phone, planning to walk right past.

“Wait.” As their paths crossed, a male voice suddenly called out. Qin Ye, hearing the unfamiliar tone, only looked up when a hand landed on his shoulder, blinking in confusion. “You mean me?”

At a glance, his fist tightened imperceptibly.

It was a very odd group.

The man before him was the police officer from before, but now dressed in a formal black suit. Two in black suits, the leftmost a dark-skinned, thin middle-aged man with a battered old pipe at his waist, cracked and yellowed fingernails, wearing a short cross-collar jacket, a blue head wrap, leggings bound around his calves, and straw sandals.

“Grass Witch,” Alsace said in a low voice. “From Miao territory.”

To the right, an elderly man with a head of white hair, leaning on a cane, fingers twisted, dressed in a faded long robe, emaciated as if skin wrapped bone.

What caught Qin Ye’s attention most was the heavy corpse aura emanating from him.

“Someone who’s spent years with the dead… A corpse herder from Xiangxi.”

Two of the Seven Grand Ghost Artisans had come at once, both clearly elite by age and bearing. Yet the true leader of this group was the middle-aged Taoist in the center.

He was utterly ordinary.

No immortal aura, nothing remarkable—except for the impressive beard on his chin, he was almost forgettable.

“A cultivator near the ghost envoy level… A true practitioner from a prestigious sect,” Alsace said, for once sounding a little grave. “Little one, your old ghost tricks won’t fool the big shots this time.”

“Why are you here?” the police officer asked in a low voice.

“I came to visit a classmate, is that a problem?” Qin Ye replied, blankly innocent.

He suddenly felt his pupils contract.

It was afternoon.

Sunlight streamed in, casting long shadows of the five onto the floor, which then stretched and dissipated.

But beneath the Taoist’s feet, the shadow spread, shifting almost imperceptibly, and a surge of true energy belonging to a cultivator shot straight at Qin Ye like an arrow.

Qin Ye kept his gaze steady; the energy dissipated instantly as it touched him.

***

“Visiting a classmate?” The police officer stared him down, relentless. “Didn’t you say yourself… you’d be glad if he died soon?”

That was a tough question.

Qin Ye chose not to answer, instead meeting his gaze with the defiant eyes of a young man, as if to say, Where I go is none of your business.

“Greetings.” As they stared at each other, the Taoist finally spoke, smiling. “May I ask how to address this young friend?”

Qin Ye blinked, saying nothing. The police officer leaned in and whispered a few words.

The Taoist smiled and flicked his horsetail whisk. “So this is Mr. Qin… Fate has brought us together. I see a cloud of darkness over you—be careful in the coming days.”

He paused, adding meaningfully, “Yesterday, a D-level alert was issued in Rong City. Apparently, a psychopathic serial killer is targeting Qingxi County… Your luck may not be good lately—take care.”

Qin Ye’s eyes were full of silent scorn as he glanced at the man and turned to leave.

The police officer moved, and the Taoist’s genial expression suddenly vanished, brows drawing together as he shook his head lightly.

The officer stopped.

“Master, he was the last person to contact Wang Chenghao, and experienced an E-level paranormal event with him. I suspect something’s up!”

The Taoist didn’t reply. Instead, he cautiously reached inside his robe and drew out a necklace.

It was silver.

Hanging from it was a thumb-sized, copper-green-stained Eight Trigrams mirror.

“This is called the Fish-Dragon Eye,” the Taoist said solemnly. “Before I left the mountain, my master specifically bestowed it. If I encounter anything that feels dangerous, it activates immediately.”

Crash—before he finished, the entire Eight Trigrams mirror shattered into fragments!

“This…” Everyone gasped.

They knew the Taoist’s status well; he held considerable rank in the Special Investigation Bureau. Something that could make him feel threatened… and the Fish-Dragon Eye shattered instantly upon contact—this youth…

“I’ll bring people—” “Stop!”

The officer hadn’t finished before the Taoist barked, “Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“This kid… should not have such cultivation. Maybe the Wang family’s vengeful spirit hasn’t dispersed… but from the traces, that ghost wasn’t at this level. What’s really going on?”

Meanwhile, just around the corner, Alsace grumbled, “Something just brushed against me—very unpleasant.”

Qin Ye didn’t reply or leave. He leaned against the corner, eyes bright. “Little A… tell me, aren’t we incredibly lucky?”

“Hm?”

“Look, elite Grass Witch, corpse herder from far-off Xiangxi—they’re all here. Why?”

“…You know, superiors hate subordinates playing coy in front of them.”

Qin Ye licked his lips, leaned closer to the corner, and smiled. “Who can mobilize them?”

“Who’s most convenient?”

“Who has the most suitable identity to summon these people? What are they planning?”

Alsace pondered for several seconds. “The yin energy here is still intense. After all, it once held the Yama Seal… They probably think the evil ghost’s soul hasn’t dispersed and are preparing to summon spirits, to see what happened last night. But Wang Zemin’s soul has already been completely annihilated—they won’t be able to call it… As for identity…”

She paused, then took a deep breath. “That Taoist… is the host of the Ghost Market?!”