Chapter 113: Deceiving a Ghost

After properly burying Wang Yi, I reminded myself again—his fate was marked by the Lone Fiend Star. He could neither be buried in soil nor have a tombstone erected. Even if his son was useless, he was Wang Yi's only bloodline. If I had buried Wang Yi in the earth, his son would've died within seven days. So I chose to bury him in a waterlogged area, using the softness of water to neutralize the harshness of the Lone Fiend's aura.

To prevent the remains from being washed away by flowing water, I dug deep. The water here was rich and damp, so in no time the body would decompose and return to the earth's veins.

By the time I left the village, it was already evening.Shenyang is huge—millions of people. Trying to find someone named Kun Ji felt like reaching for the heavens. But that's only true for regular folks. For those with power and money, tracking you down is child's play.

So, I made a call—to Zhou Han.

He was surprised to hear from me, but after hearing my request, he immediately agreed and even offered to treat me to dinner.

Looking around the rural outskirts, I realized if I didn't accept his help, I might end up sleeping on the street. So I gave him my coordinates and sat by the roadside, waiting. Glancing back at Wang Yi's grave, I let out a long sigh. People are often like this—we don't realize how precious someone was until they're gone.

Just before dark, Zhou Han pulled up in a Mercedes.As soon as he got out, he greeted me with a hug."Dabao, man! You've been a mystery lately. I tried calling you multiple times—your number's dead. You switch phones?"

What could I say? I'd nearly died.But I needed a favor, so I gave him some vague excuse and got into his car.

Zhou Han was straightforward. He said he'd handle the search for Kun Ji. But then he shifted the topic.

Apparently, after our last encounter, he'd told his grandfather about me.His granddad is a retired official. Even though he lived through the era of smashing superstitions, old traditions still had their place in his heart. During a trip to his hometown last year, he hired three different Feng Shui masters to pick a burial site for the family tomb.

Each of them claimed their chosen site was the real dragon vein.The old man—being a man of status—simply bought three mountains to keep them all happy.

Zhou Han then told me his grandfather had recently been diagnosed with lymphoma. Early stage, but cancer is cancer.

After hearing Zhou Han's story about the yellow weasel spirit (Huang Daxian), the old man insisted on meeting me.

"Dabao, man, what've you been up to? When are you free? I'll take you to see him. There are too many fakes out there. I can only trust you," Zhou Han said as he passed me an envelope. "It's not much—just a small token for your trouble."

It felt heavy. About 20,000 yuan.

I wasn't short on money anymore, but who says no to extra cash?Plus, if Zhou Han didn't help me, I had no way of tracking down Kun Ji.So I said, "Alright. Once I settle some things, take me to meet him."

Zhou Han slapped my shoulder, delighted."Bro, I gotta tell you—when Cui Hai died, I was there. That woman went nuts, chewed off his whole face. When we opened the door, the sound of her gnawing—crunch crunch—I couldn't sleep for days. I was so spooked, I went all the way to Wutai Mountain to ask a monk for blessings, then to a Daoist temple to get charms. I've worshipped every deity from the Investiture of the Gods to Journey to the West. You think that karma's still coming for me?"

Cui Hai deserved his fate. As for the others—they were mostly innocent. They might've eaten something cursed, but in this life they were safe. In the afterlife? Debts will be paid.

I didn't want to traumatize him with the gruesome details of the 18 Levels of Hell, so I just said, "Don't worry. Ride out three unlucky years—after that, you'll be fine."

Zhou Han sighed."Man, we were just having a school reunion, and now one's dead, another's crippled…"

"Crippled?" I asked. I didn't remember anyone getting hurt.

That's when Zhou Han told me Liu Ruoyi had also gotten into trouble.

After witnessing those supernatural events, instead of developing fear and reverence, she ran off to Thailand.

It's said in Thailand, raising "little ghosts" helps boost charisma and popularity—especially in the entertainment industry. But the backlash can be deadly.

Many celebrities have died under strange circumstances.I won't name names, but they've all fallen to spirits and ghosts.

Liu Ruoyi, having seen the power of that weasel spirit, became even more obsessed. After we parted ways, she went to Thailand, brought back a little ghost, and even showed it off to Zhou Han and some other rich kids.

But less than half a month later—While heading to a performance, her car swerved. The driver said he was trying to avoid a child on the road. The vehicle tipped—just in time for a cargo truck to smash into the rear. The glass shattered—ruining Liu Ruoyi's face beyond recognition.

She had been a goddess in the industry. Now her beauty was gone forever.

My heart ached.For someone who had staked her whole life on her appearance, such a blow was worse than death.Had she left the supernatural alone, I had already shielded her from her karma.But she courted it again by raising a ghost.Ghosts aren't to be trifled with.

In the end, good and evil come from your own deeds. Misfortune is what you invite.

Later that night, we reached the city.Dinner, showers, and a quick sauna—nothing worth detailing.

When Zhou Han asked about Jiang Shiyu, I simply smiled and said nothing.Two years isn't long or short.Only after solving the Nine Dragon Gate and clearing my karma can I stand proudly beside her.For now, I had to keep my distance.

Zhou Han worked fast.Not long after settling me into a hotel, he called and gave me an address.There weren't many people named Kun Ji in all of Shenyang.Using police databases, they traced a Li minority individual recently registered in the Da Dong District.

He even gave me Kun Ji's registered phone number.

Standing by the hotel window, I looked out at the glittering city lights.

But this kind of glamour rests atop darkness.

Once night falls, all sorts of hidden, sinister things creep out.They come in many forms—some beautiful and seductive, others cryptic and eerie.They might even look just like ordinary people.But their goal is always the same: your life.

Of the hundred ghosts from the Night Parade, six evil spirits had escaped.To break that karmic chain, I had to take action.

I pulled out the paper slips that Night Tour God had given me and waited until midnight before leaving the hotel.

When it comes to ghosts harming people, it's usually in places where yang energy is weak.Nightclubs are prime territory.The decadent atmosphere, the unrestrained bodies swaying in dance—all of it releases a scent that evil spirits crave.

The first address led me to a bar in Heping District.

Before I entered, I used a charm to block the yang fire on my right shoulder, faking a weakened aura.My face, still pale from blood loss, added to the illusion.To a ghost, I now looked like an easy target.

Once prepped, I stepped into the bar.

Loud music pounded in my head.I'd been here once with Zhao Na, and hated it—that was where our relationship began to crack.

But enough reminiscing.Back to the ghost-hunting.

I headed to the bar and ordered a strong rum.In moderation, alcohol boosts yang.Too much—and it flips to yin.

I kept my mind calm and downed the drink in one go.Though I was fine, I pretended to be tipsy.

Half an hour passed.Suddenly, I felt a chill crawl up my spine.

I turned.A girl—early twenties—had just tapped me.

Heavy makeup, sharp features, seductive figure.The kind of woman who could stir any man's desires.And in October, she was wearing a black spaghetti-strap top, her chest glittering with sequins and cleavage, swaying as she moved.

"Hey handsome," she purred. "Alone? Not buying me a drink?"

You already know what's up.

That wasn't a girl—it was a ghost.

Her words were meant to cloud my judgment.To a normal man, even just locking eyes might've made him her puppet.

But not me.The magical tools in my green pouch had already neutralized her tricks.

That pouch looks like a regular shoulder bag, totally inconspicuous.But it has a special trait—it nurtures spiritual artifacts.

"What are we drinking?" I replied casually.

"Let's go somewhere more private," she whispered, pointing to a corner booth.

I played along, acting dazed.As we moved, I noticed the bartender waving at me with concern.

I glanced back at the girl.Clearly, she was a spirit feeding off the bar's energy.The young bartender must've sensed something off—even if he couldn't see her.

We sat in the corner.I ordered more drinks and began chatting.

I told her I was a fallen princeling, my dad arrested by the disciplinary commission, our fortune confiscated…

All of it just bait.A misdirection.

Yes—Zhang Dabao was conning a ghost.

After a few drinks, the girl suggested a walk.I staggered to my feet, drunkenly, and followed her out the back door.

Most bars have back or side exits—it's a Feng Shui thing.Dragon energy (which brings wealth) enters through the front and should flow out elsewhere.One-door establishments cause energy to "flow backward," bringing misfortune.Even if the back door stays locked, it still attracts prosperity.

Drunk and swaying, I hung onto her as we exited into a side alley.

I had to look like I was under her spell.

The spirit's touch was indistinguishable from a real human's.

Just as we reached the alley,With no one around,She leaned in close, pulled down her top—And shoved me against the wall…

Rising on her toes,She aimed right for my lips—