Dai Shengfan followed behind the young Taoist. He moved with a slow, deliberate pace, maintaining a fixed distance, not too close, but not so far as to lose sight of him. His expression appeared calm, but a closer look revealed a neck slick with cold sweat, and the collar of his expensive, well-tailored dress shirt was damp with perspiration.
Although he was a frequent visitor to this villa, he had not set foot in this basement for many years. Not since that incident.
“You are very tense,” a faint voice drifted from ahead. “What are you afraid of?”
Dai Shengfan’s pupils constricted. His eyes locked onto the upright silhouette of the man in front of him. He cleared his throat. “What are you talking about? I am not.”
“After we came downstairs, your heart rate increased significantly. It is nearly 0.75 times faster than it was on the surface.”
Shock finally broke through Dai Shengfan’s composure. They were at least five meters apart; was such hearing even humanly possible?
“I am not afraid. There is nothing here that makes me afraid. I am simply,” Dai Shengfan paused, “a little excited.”
“Excited,” Wen Yaozhi repeated, a brow arching.
“Have you ever heard of the phrase ‘near-home phobia’?” Dai Shengfan managed a small smile, pulling an exquisite silk handkerchief from his pocket to wipe the sweat from his forehead and neck. “When one is about to see someone they have missed for a long time, it creates a strange, nervous energy.”
Wen Yaozhi had no interest in deciphering his riddles. He let out a soft sneer and remained silent.
When they reached the spot where he had previously parted ways with Lu Xincheng, the first thing Dai Shengfan saw was that all-too-familiar wooden door. Every year, he sent people down to clean; the area was free of dust. Even after more than a decade, the door looked as pristine and new as the day it was built.
Staring at that door, a flicker of warmth finally surfaced in his eyes. However, that moment of tenderness was instantly shattered.
“Dai Shengfan! I did not think you would actually have the guts to come here!” The head of Gong Yu nearly bounced in rage, though his current power was limited. He could only glare upward at his nemesis.
Dai Shengfan stared at him for a long time before suddenly letting out a sharp, mocking laugh. His tone was one of feigned astonishment. “Gong Yu? Is it really you? My old friend, if you had not spoken, I would not have recognized you.” Despite the polite words, Dai Shengfan’s face was filled with undisguised contempt.
Gong Yu looked as though he were about to explode with fury.
“What cockroach-like resilience,” Dai Shengfan sighed. He turned to the young Taoist and cupped his hands. “Master Yang, I did not expect your methods to be so brilliant. I am truly impressed.”
Wen Yaozhi glanced at Lu Xincheng, who was standing quietly to the side, but said nothing.
Gong Yu looked at the young Ghost Hunter, the fire of fury burning through his despair. “As I thought, you are all birds of a feather.”
Knowing that he likely would not escape today, Gong Yu let his decade’s worth of pent-up rage spill out. “You, surnamed Dai! You will die a horrible death! You are heartless and wicked! Retribution is coming for you! Even as a ghost, I will not let you go! I will be waiting for you in the eighteenth level of hell!”
“I am sorry, but you will not be becoming a ghost.” Dai Shengfan gestured toward Wen Yaozhi with his chin, signaling him to dispose of the scum.
However, the Taoist beside him did not move. He showed no intention of taking action, instead turning to his employer with an indifferent expression. “I am curious. What happened here seventeen years ago?” He paused. “And what are you hiding behind that door?”
A strange sense of unease began to stir in Dai Shengfan’s heart, but he maintained his outward calm. “That is not your concern. Make his soul dissipate, and I will pay you double the commission.”
“Fine,” Wen Yaozhi agreed readily, yet he still made no move.
Dai Shengfan realized something was wrong. He turned to flee, but his body would not move. A hand pressed down on his shoulder like an unshakeable steel vise. Dai Shengfan resisted twice, but finding the difference in strength to be insurmountable, he gave up. He glared at the man before him. “Who exactly are you? You are not Yang Jingtai.”
Nearby, Dai Sui, hiding behind cover, saw his father being restrained and instinctively wanted to rush out. However, someone grabbed him. He turned his head to find Lu Xincheng beside him.
The grey-haired youth shook his head slowly. “That person has no ill intent; he simply wants Director Dai to answer a few questions.” He whispered into the boy’s ear, “Haven’t you been curious about your father’s secrets for a long time?”
Dai Sui stared straight ahead, his tense muscles refusing to relax.
“The soul summoning was a pretense to kill. Your ultimate goal was to murder Gong Yu. But there was no need for such an elaborate setup. The only explanation is that you were using human lives as sacrifices. Behind that door is the evil spirit you worship, isn’t it?”
The door was protected by a restriction set by a high-level Taoist. Wen Yaozhi could not sense what was inside, but judging by Dai Shengfan’s behavior, it was something he valued immensely.
“An evil spirit? What is an evil spirit?” Dai Sui asked in a small voice.
Lu Xincheng glanced at the boy with a complex expression. He hesitated. “I do not know.”
“I do not know what you are talking about,” Dai Shengfan said, his eyes darting toward his watch. He had left instructions: if there was no movement within half an hour, the men above would have the Master he hired perform a ritual.
“If you are unwilling to speak, then let us ask our friend for a favor.”
Wen Yaozhi walked out and returned dragging a figure. It was the unconscious Yang Jingtai. He threw the man onto the ground and delivered several sharp slaps to his face.
Yang Jingtai slowly regained consciousness. Clutching his burning, red cheeks, he looked around in confusion.
Wen Yaozhi crouched in front of him, a slight curve to his lips. “Master Yang, please do me a favor.”
The sight of that handsome face made Yang Jingtai’s pain intensify. He coughed violently, aggravating his wounds. With a contorted face, he gasped, “Whatever you command.”
“It is simple,” Wen Yaozhi pointed to the magnificent arched door. “Remove the restriction on it.”
Yang Jingtai followed the finger’s direction and collided with Dai Shengfan’s murderous glare.
“You cannot!” In his desperation, Dai Shengfan’s voice was hoarse and nearly broke. At the same time, Gong Yu’s head leaped into the air and struck Dai Shengfan right in the face. Dai Shengfan was knocked backward, falling straight onto the ground.
“Shut up, you dog,” the head mocked after landing and turning around. “Drop that high-and-mighty act. Your crimes are about to be made public.”
Dai Shengfan clutched his forehead and gritted his teeth. “Yang Jingtai, I am your employer! I command you! You cannot do it!”
Yang Jingtai’s expression was one of total helplessness. He shook his head at his former employer, indicating that he was no longer his own master. As a Purple-Robed Master, Yang Jingtai was capable of lifting restrictions set by others of the same rank.
He was severely injured; even walking to the door was a struggle. Taking a deep breath, he pulled out a blank talisman, dabbed some of his own blood onto it, and began to draw with sweeping strokes. Pressing the paper against the wall with two fingers, the talisman ignited and burned to ash.
All eyes converged as a crisp sound, like a snapping lute string, rang through the air. The invisible barrier vanished.
Even Dai Sui’s eyes filled with curiosity. “I wonder what is inside?” He wanted to know what could make his usually composed father lose his cool like this.
Lu Xincheng, for once, did not respond. He watched the innocent, naive boy beside him, a hidden light flickering in his eyes.
With the restriction broken, Yang Jingtai immediately retreated several steps.
Wen Yaozhi walked over. His long, strong fingers rested on the brass door knocker. His muscles were taut, and his heterochromatic eyes reflected a dark, golden light, his combat readiness at its peak.
Dai Shengfan stared at the lean, black-clad back, his gaze a mix of terror and rage. He clenched his fists so hard that his nails nearly drew blood.
“Wait.” At the critical moment, a voice interrupted the tense atmosphere.
Dai Shengfan heard the voice but could not see the person. He felt the voice was somewhat familiar. To his surprise, Wen Yaozhi actually stopped. He turned toward the empty air, looking somewhat impatient, though his tone was unexpectedly polite. “What is it? Is there a problem?”
Following Wen Yaozhi’s gaze, Dai Shengfan watched as the air slowly condensed into a tall figure.
As the silhouette became clear, Dai Shengfan’s expression froze.
“What is inside is not an evil spirit,” the youth said, his tone gentle but firm. “If I am not mistaken, it is your family.”
The youth’s eyes were as bright as stars, and his grey hair made his skin look as white as frost. As he spoke, he fixed his gaze on Dai Shengfan. “Right, Director Dai?” A signature smile curved his lips.
It was a highly infectious smile. As an actor, if he had found the right role in a hit show, he likely would have been very popular with the audience. Perhaps he could have even become an overnight star. But if luck was not on his side, he might have spent his whole life as an obscure, bottom-tier actor.
Dai Shengfan was all too familiar with that face. He simply had not expected to see this cannon fodder again. He turned furiously to Yang Jingtai. “Did you not say the soul suppression was complete?”
Weakly leaning against the wall, Yang Jingtai replied with a fading voice, “I never said that.”
Dai Shengfan understood immediately. He shifted his gaze to Wen Yaozhi. This had all been a trap set by this man to lure him downstairs. His heart sank. In despair, he asked, “So those other people are not dead either?”
Wen Yaozhi ignored him, saying coldly, “Answer his question.”
The cold, death-like gaze made Dai Shengfan’s skin crawl. He turned his head and met the friendly eyes of the young evil ghost.
He could not understand how a person could be so different in life and death. This being now felt like a brilliant, venomous snake. Even though its venom could kill in a single strike, it preferred to slowly coil its body around its prey until they suffocated.
Being at their mercy, Dai Shengfan knew he had to confess. These secrets were meant to remain hidden forever, but he believed that once he got out, he would find a way to silence everyone present.
“When you first joined the crew, I told you that this place was strictly off-limits. Those who set foot in forbidden areas deserve what they get, especially since you took something you should not have. From the moment you stole the gemstone, you should have been prepared to pay the price for your greed.” Dai Shengfan’s arrogant, superior attitude would have provoked anyone else into an argument, leading them into a self-justification trap.
Lu Xincheng, however, was not affected by these emotions. He remained calm. “For over a decade, you have used curiosity and greed to lure people into this basement. The number of people who have died here during that time, you would need more than two hands to count them, wouldn’t you?”
Dai Shengfan’s pupils suddenly contracted. “I do not know what you are talking about.”
“This Mr. Wen has connections in the Criminal Investigation Department. We can have him check the missing person reports in this area over the years.”
Wen Yaozhi’s eyes flickered at the mention of his name. He gave the talkative ghost a subtle look, his lips thinning slightly.
Dai Shengfan took a deep breath and pointed at the head on the ground. “Even if there are, those lives were taken by this monster. What does it have to do with me?”
Gong Yu fired back without hesitation, “You are the monster! I want to rip your heart out; it must be filthier and more foul than the water of the Ganges.”
“Look at yourself,” Dai Shengfan snapped back. “Calling you a devil would be a compliment.”
“Shut up, both of you,” Wen Yaozhi interrupted. His voice was not loud, but it carried absolute authority. Everyone, human and non-human, instantly fell silent.
He turned to Lu Xincheng. “Continue.”
“Naturally, you have always wanted to get rid of Gong Yu. You wouldn’t be kind enough to feed him. Yet you kept sending lives to him. The only explanation,” Lu Xincheng paused, his gaze drifting toward a pile of rocks.
Dai Shengfan followed his gaze.
“Back then, Gong Yu only ate a portion of the Flesh Lingzhi, and you took the rest. A Flesh Lingzhi requires blood and flesh to provide luck to its owner. So, you used human lives as sacrifices to ensure it would continue to provide you with an endless stream of good fortune.”
“Impossible!” Gong Yu interrupted. “His wife ate it back then! She died a long time ago, and that thing went with her!”
Lu Xincheng did not argue. He simply looked at Dai Shengfan as if he were already a corpse.
Dai Shengfan was clearly panicked. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his face turned grim. “How do you know?”
Wen Yaozhi had already guessed what the Flesh Lingzhi was. “What you saw in the mine back then was a Living Taisui. A Taisui provides immense luck to its owner. But only a living Taisui can provide that luck continuously.”
Gong Yu chimed in, “I ate half of it in a moment of desperation. The remaining root lost its vitality and was about to wither. Dai Shengfan did not dare eat it himself, so he tricked his wife into eating it.” He let out a cold laugh. “That woman was pregnant at the time. This scum treated her as a mere consumable.”
Silence fell over the room.
Dai Shengfan’s face was as pale as paper. This was clearly the secret he wanted to hide most—the past he never wanted to remember.
“I did not know. She did not tell me she was pregnant,” his lips trembled. “If I had known, I would never have let her eat that thing.”
When he learned his wife was pregnant, Dai Shengfan was filled with regret, but it was too late. Strangely, after eating the Taisui, Xie Ran did not turn into a monster like Gong Yu. She simply had a much larger appetite than a typical pregnant woman. When the hospital confirmed it was a boy, Dai Shengfan was both expectant and nervous.
With the protection of the Taisui, his luck soared. Domestic and international awards followed one after another. As his wife’s belly grew, he began to forget about the hidden danger.
Ten months later, his wife faced a difficult labor. Dai Shengfan waited outside the ward for twelve hours. When the doctor finally emerged, he shook his head. “We could not save the mother.”
“What about my son?” Dai Shengfan grabbed the doctor in a panic.
“The elder of the twins is also gone. But the younger brother was saved.”
“The younger brother.”
Dai Shengfan was speechless. During the prenatal check-ups, the doctor had never mentioned twins. What was this younger brother? A strong sense of unease pulsed within him. It took a long time for him to work up the courage to visit the incubator.
“When the baby was born, he weighed less than four pounds. His face was purple, and he could not even make a sound,” a nurse said pityingly.
Through the glass, Dai Shengfan saw the child lying there quietly. He did not cry or fuss. He was small, appearing no different from a normal newborn. The nurse thought the father was strange; few fathers remained so calm. A closer look at his eyes revealed no tenderness or worry, only a strange, underlying emotion.
Only Dai Shengfan knew. It was the fear of the unknown.
“Dad?” A boy’s bewildered voice snapped Dai Shengfan back to reality.
Seventeen years flashed through his mind. The infant in the incubator had grown into a tall youth. Although his mind remained as pure as a child’s, his sharp facial features and slender build showed he was nearly an adult.
Dai Sui stood up from behind the cover and walked toward his father like a sleepwalker. He repeated, “Dad?”
Dai Shengfan’s eyes finally focused. The moment he saw his son, it felt as if a massive wave had crashed over him. In his confusion, he could only mutter, “Why are you here? Weren’t you sleeping?”
“I heard what you said. Is it true? Mom, and my older brother.” The boy’s voice trembled as he spoke the unfamiliar terms.
Dai Shengfan did not answer. The boy stared at him with clear eyes, and the man looked away.
“And you killed many people,” the boy said slowly. “Is that also true?”
He wanted a response; he naively hoped for a denial. But the man remained silent. After a long time, a heavy voice spoke.
“Wasn’t it all for you? You troublesome thing.” The man sighed. The malice in his eyes was no longer hidden as he revealed his darkest side.
Dai Shengfan violently yanked off his expensive watch. The hard metal case immediately sliced his skin, and blood splattered instantly.
The pale face of the boy standing before him was stained with warm blood. He stared at his father in shock. Although the man had spent limited time with him, he had always been the only person he loved and respected. Now, he felt like a terrifying stranger.
That was what his mind thought, but when he smelled the sweet scent of blood, a primal instinct took over. He involuntarily licked his lips. The familiar taste sent him into a daze.
In his clouded mind, he heard an absolute command: “Kill them.”
The boy’s eyes lost their focus, turning a deep blood-red. Like a puppet, he repeated, “Kill them.”