APR 44

The Sorceress never expected to hear such words from Chen Huan. It was as if she had seen some kind of monster, and she exclaimed in horror, “You…”

“Unfortunately, it’s all fake,” Chen Huan’s emotions were as dark and turbulent as a storm, and he said softly, “How could someone who’s dead possibly come back to life, right?”

—How terrifying!

The Sorceress was frightened by Chen Huan’s gaze and immediately took several steps back, her heart pounding wildly. She pressed a hand to her chest, not daring to breathe for a moment.

As the Sorceress shrank back, the air seemed to suddenly freeze, becoming eerily quiet.

Chen Huan lost interest in her and coldly withdrew his gaze, walking past her toward Da Xiong and Zhong Su, who were burning paper offerings.

“Hey, sir, I’m telling you the truth. You’re really in danger right now, that ghost—” Seeing Chen Huan about to leave, the Sorceress reached out, still wanting to say more.

“Granny, I already told you not to push your luck!” Shou Hou grabbed the Sorceress’s arm, pulling her so hard she stumbled and nearly fell on the rocky riverbank.

The polite facade he had worn earlier vanished completely from his face. He leaned in close, staring at the Sorceress with a sinister look, and said in a low voice, “We’ve said all the nice words, paid you, and told you to stop being a nuisance—can’t you understand?”

“Do you really think you can fool anyone? How many lives do you have to earn this money? If you don’t leave now, watch out for breaking a dozen bones and dying right here. By then, you won’t even have tears to cry.@Endless excellent writing, all on Jinjiang Literature City.

At this moment, Shou Hou looked venomous, speaking with a harsh tone. His viciousness was even more intense than Da Xiong, who looked like a hardened bandit.

The Sorceress had only ever deceived those who were muddle-headed and lacked backbone. She had never encountered such a situation before and was immediately frightened to the point of weak legs, trying to pull her hand back from Shou Hou’s grip. “Aiyo, aiyo!” she cried, “Heaven’s right eye! Young people bullying an old lady in broad daylight!”

“Get lost!”

As soon as Shou Hou let go, the Sorceress no longer seemed to have cataracts in her eyes. She scurried away on her small feet, quickly running toward the crowd.

Because they were relatively far apart, Zhong Su didn’t notice what was happening on the steps. Beside him, Da Xiong was still chattering to the fire basin as if having a conversation: “Xiao Zhong Ge, I asked the Sorceress before burning the paper offerings. Not only did she say you’re short on money, but she also said you’ve been lonely these past few years down there, with no one to keep you company. It’s a shame the paper effigy shop sold out of paper effigies today, and the ones left are all misshapen. In a few days, I’ll pick out some better ones to burn for you.”

At this point, he even wiped his reddened eyes with a guilty expression: “It’s also my fault for being too careless, not realizing earlier that you like men. The ones I burned for you before were all the wrong type.”

Da Xiong glanced at Zhong Su beside him and lowered his voice: “Xiao Zhong Ge, I don’t know if you prefer blond muscle men or delicate pretty boys. I’ll have the paper effigy shop make you a whole row, all shapes and sizes for you to choose from.”

Hearing the phrase “all shapes and sizes for you to choose from,” Zhong Su, who had been smoking, choked on his own saliva and nearly coughed to death. “Cough, cough, cough!”

“Da Xiong, you—” He grabbed Da Xiong’s shoulder, his expression grim as he tried to say something.

Just then, Chen Huan’s low, hoarse voice came from above the two of them: “Why are you burning paper offerings here? Things burned for the living to see, who can use them?”

Up?

Da Xiong jolted with a start, looking up to see Chen Huan. “C-Chen Ge, what brings you over here?”

He was like a student caught red-handed doing something wrong by the dean, shrinking from a bear into a trembling ball of fur.

Chen Huan didn’t say a word, merely raising the phone in his hand to show the “unreachable” screen. He spoke with a detached tone, “I gave you this phone, not to use it as a decoration. When I wanted to find you for something, I had to ask your subordinates to learn you were here.”

Da Xiong fumbled his phone out of his pocket and checked it—there really was an extra missed call. His dark face flushed with embarrassment as he stammered an apology, “I actually missed your call, I’m really sorry, Chen Ge. The phone must have been bumped or knocked somewhere and switched to vibrate mode. I’ll change it back right away.”

As he fiddled with the phone settings, he suddenly realized something belatedly and shifted his body to the side, trying to block the materials with Zhong Su’s name written on them that hadn’t yet been burned.

He offered a clumsy explanation, “Ah, these aren’t for burning for Xiao Zhong Ge…”

“What are you blocking? His name is written right there.” Chen Huan didn’t press further but lowered his gaze, glancing indifferently at Zhong Su. “And him? Did you call him here too?”

He held a cigarette between his fingers, casually pointing it in Zhong Su’s direction as if indicating an object.

Zhong Su, pointed at by Chen Huan, turned his head uncomfortably and said, “I’m right here. If you have anything to ask, ask me directly. Da Xiong isn’t my mouthpiece.”

He disliked this feeling of being treated as invisible by Chen Huan. Ever since being left behind at the reservoir last time, whenever he called Chen Huan, Chen Huan wouldn’t answer, clearly intending to ignore him.

Smoke mixed with sparks and half-burned paper scraps drifted through the air, mirroring the tense atmosphere between the two.

Da Xiong sensed the faint smell of gunpowder and knew Chen Huan didn’t like this unexpected Zhong Su. He quickly explained, “Chen Ge, I thought since he’s someone Xiao Zhong Ge… uh, knew, and he came to burn paper offerings, Xiao Zhong Ge’s spirit in heaven might feel comforted, so I invited him.”

He wanted to say “lover,” but the word felt too hot to utter, so he changed it on the spot.

“If you don’t like it, I won’t call him again in the future.” Da Xiong apologized sincerely.

Zhong Su, listening nearby, really wanted to cover Da Xiong’s mouth. He was already well aware of how much hostility Chen Huan harbored toward him as the “old friend’s lover.” After Da Xiong said those two sentences, although Chen Huan’s expression didn’t change, the gaze he swept over became even more unbearable.

Though he didn’t want to admit how much time had changed things, the bloody encounters he’d had with Chen Huan’s subordinates made him realize that the current Chen Huan, both in appearance and methods, exerted more pressure on him than before.

He brushed the paper ash off his hands and took over the conversation. “I haven’t crossed any lines. Da Xiong called me, and today is the Ghost Festival. I’m just here to commemorate the deceased. Do I need your permission for that?”

His tone was flat, and his posture was proper: he hadn’t violated any of the warnings Chen Huan had given at the reservoir. He hadn’t mentioned “him” or approached proactively—completely innocent.

Chen Huan exhaled a puff of smoke, his scrutinizing gaze sweeping over the lines of Zhong Su’s profile. Now, it didn’t seem quite as similar anymore. “Yes, I need it.”

Zhong Su was speechless, letting out a breathy laugh of exasperation. How was it that he felt Chen Huan had not only grown more ruthless over the years, but his skin had also thickened considerably?

“Well, you sure have a wide reach, but what can I do? Most of the Joss Paper has already been burned. Do you want me to pick it back up?” He gestured toward the fire basin with his chin, his expression tinged with a hint of disdain.

He expected Chen Huan to be displeased, but instead, Chen Huan said nothing. He merely gave Zhong Su a thorough once-over, glanced at the time on his phone, and said to Da Xiong, “Da Xiong, let’s go. Something urgent has come up.”

Da Xiong didn’t dare refuse and immediately stood up, ready to leave.

Zhong Su was taken aback. “The Joss Paper isn’t finished burning yet?”

Chen Huan flicked the ash from his cigarette, giving him a cool, sidelong glance. “Aren’t you Su Er’s lover? Then stay and burn it all clean for him, slowly.”

Without another look at Zhong Su, he led his men and left directly.

Once in the car, Shou Hou resumed his role as the driver, not daring to say a word, efficiently starting the ignition and firing up the engine.

Da Xiong sat in the passenger seat, turning back uneasily to glance at Chen Huan’s shadowed, unreadable profile. Guiltily, he said, “I’m sorry, Brother Chen. I know you told me before not to do these pointless things…”

He racked his brains, trying to come up with a more appropriate explanation and apology, but after speaking for a while, the person in the back seat still gave no response.

“Brother Chen?” He looked up and noticed Chen Huan’s gaze remained fixed outside the car window, watching a particular spot, completely unconcerned with what he had said.

After a moment of silence, Chen Huan couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He watched as Zhong Su, under the bridge, kicked the burning fire basin along with the yellow and white Joss Paper into the river, then lit a cigarette and walked away without looking back.

He thought: Hah, what lover? Such a liar.

“Da Xiong.”

Da Xiong straightened his back immediately upon being called. “Yes, Brother Chen, what do you need?”

Chen Huan watched the smoke rising from the tip of his cigarette, his tone devoid of emotion. “Da Xiong, why did you look after that kid? Because he’s Su Er’s lover? Because he shares the same name and surname as Su Er, and is also an orphan?”

Da Xiong opened and closed his mouth several times, stammering, “Uh… I can’t really explain it. I just feel he’s not a bad person. Sometimes when I see him… I can’t help but think of Xiao Zhong Ge.”

His expression grew somewhat desolate, his voice sinking low. “It’s not just that his eyes and brows are a bit similar, even the feeling he gives off… Just now, when we were burning the paper offerings, he suddenly stood in front of me. For a moment, I really thought Xiao Zhong Ge had come back to catch up with me.”

Da Xiong paused, shaking his head gently. “What a pity… it wasn’t him.”

Chen Huan lowered his gaze to the crimson glow between his fingers, letting it burn silently to the end. After a long while, he pressed the cigarette into the ashtray, extinguishing it, and said, “Da Xiong, go investigate that kid’s background again and give me the report. The more detailed, the better. Not a single oversight is allowed.”

The last trace of amusement in his eyes sank into a deep abyss, his gaze turning icy once more, like a predator locking onto its prey—wild and focused.