Chapter 19

019. Late at night.
Outside the window, the stars hung high, and the entire Yan City was immersed in silence.
Occasionally, one or two cars sped by on nighttime journeys, their high beams still lingering, illuminating the greenery lining the road.
Senhe Residential Complex, thirty-second floor.
Shu Yuan drew the curtains closed, shut down her computer, and turned to leave the study, heading toward the bedroom.
At thirty years old, she had always lived alone. When the night grew deep and quiet, her hundred-square-meter apartment felt especially empty. Tonight, perhaps influenced by the news she had seen, she was gripped by a chilling sense of dread, as if trapped in darkness and her body trembling uncontrollably.
Lowering her gaze, her brow furrowed slightly. She exhaled deeply and returned to the bedroom to lie down.
It took her nearly half an hour to barely drift off, but the night was destined to be restless.
First, she slipped into a hazy dream filled with images of a car crash scene. She saw two figures in the front seats behind the crumpled hood of a wrecked car, their bodies mangled, blood dripping from their heads, quickly soaking the seats.
The man in the front passenger seat hung half off his shoulder, swaying precariously. A broken piece of the car’s interior was lodged in his throat. Though clearly dead, at one moment he suddenly opened his eyes, bloodied irises fixated on Shu Yuan.
Her heart jolted, and she instinctively stepped back two paces.
The man made no movement but kept opening and closing his mouth, blood trickling out accompanied by strange, fragmented sounds—like he wanted to say something to her.
Recalling their past conversations, after a brief hesitation, Shu Yuan stepped forward two paces, forcing down the nausea caused by the blood, leaning against the car window and bending slightly.
At that moment, the man’s arm, previously trapped by the seatbelt and car equipment, abruptly rose and grabbed Shu Yuan’s neck without warning, pulling her forcibly into the car.
His arm, covered in dangling flesh, brushed against her face and nose. The stench of blood and suffocation surged in. Her eyes rolled back, but her fingers clutched the window tightly, toes pressing against the car door as she struggled backward.
But her strength was no match for his.
Her arm muscles ached and twitched, and her consciousness began to fade. She opened her mouth in pain, every breath tinged with the metallic taste of blood. Just as she thought her throat would break and she would die, a dazzling light suddenly exploded. Before she could react, she heard a piercing, agonized scream from the man’s throat.
The grip around her neck vanished completely.
She collapsed to the floor, trying to look up at the wrecked car, but the horrifying scene before her began to blur, like dust being blown away by the wind. Eventually, everything went black.
Snap.
The bedroom light turned on. Shu Yuan suddenly sat up, eyes wide with terror, darting around the room.
“You’re awake?”
By the window, Cheng Puyu held a dark shape. Squinting against the brightness, he seemed unaccustomed to the light.
When Shu Yuan looked his way, he waved his left hand as if greeting her.
Having just been strangled in her dream, nearly unable to wake, and now seeing a dark shadow in the room, she was on the verge of screaming.
“You—”
Before she could finish, the doorbell rang with a prolonged “ding-dong.” She froze.
Cheng Puyu reminded her, “It should be Rong Jing and the others.”
Rong Jing?!
In this moment, the name ‘Rong Jing’ was like a tonic to Shu Yuan, calming her wildly beating heart.
She opened the door. Standing under the voice-activated light was a young man whose fair and handsome face was illuminated. Rong Jing’s eyes curved slightly as he glanced Shu Yuan over, smiling gently. “Looks like Cheng Puyu arrived just in time.”
Cheng Puyu?
Shu Yuan thought of that inhuman figure who had appeared in her bedroom.
She turned back just in time to see Cheng Puyu floating out.
Seeing Rong Jing, Cheng Puyu immediately waved and tossed the dark shape he had been holding to the floor, then started complaining, “It was this thing! When I got here, it had entered this lady’s dream, trying to kill her.”
“This is...” Shu Yuan, coming to her senses, opened her mouth, recalling the dream scene.
“Hmm, a little ghost. More precisely, a little ghost controlled by someone.” Rong Jing bent down and poked at the curled-up shadow. This ghost was of low rank, not even an ‘evil spirit,’ just a ‘small’ one.
Correspondingly, it had no special powers, but enough to deal with an ordinary person.
Hearing this, Shu Yuan was momentarily at a loss for words.
Although she had some suspicions when she saw Cheng Puyu, hearing Rong Jing so plainly reveal the truth unsettled her worldview somewhat.
She took two steps back, putting some distance between herself and the little ghost.
…
The whole matter began tonight.
After seeing Shu Yuan’s social media update, Rong Jing suddenly recalled the divination he had done for her a few days ago—advising her to avoid trouble by retreating, or disaster would follow.
On a whim, he wanted to check if Shu Yuan had resigned as the divination suggested, and if the disaster had passed. Unexpectedly, he got a hexagram reading of “Kan over Qian” with a cryptic line, indicating that Shu Yuan was currently in grave danger, risking her life if she wasn’t careful.
—Undoubtedly, more dangerous than the reading from a few days ago.
Rong Jing found it strange. If Shu Yuan had chosen to step back, why did the hexagram show greater danger?
He told Xie Changshi about it, his tone a bit dejected and self-doubting: “Xie Changshi, do you think I made a mistake? That means I lied, and I even charged her five hundred.”
But he quickly added, “But I’ve never been wrong in my divinations before.”
As a child, he had followed the old Taoist master Tai Xu, who often praised him—even though he was just a little zombie, he was born for this Taoist path.
Xie Changshi noticed the drooping cowlick on Rong Jing’s head and instinctively reached out to straighten it, then said, “Don’t doubt yourself. Different hexagrams appear because the original inquiries were about two separate matters. It’s possible the dangers shown are not the same.”
He patiently hypothesized for Rong Jing: “For Ms. Shu, the first danger might be internal persecution within the company, while the latter danger could be an accident—like a car crash, drowning, or some other mishap.”
With this explanation, Rong Jing understood.
His expression shifted, and he immediately called Cheng Puyu, who as a ghost, arrived ahead at Senhe Residential Complex.
Hearing the rough outline of the events, Shu Yuan sank weakly into the sofa, covering her face with her hands, once again grateful that she had changed her mind at a critical moment and trusted Fang Yu and Rong Jing.
Without a doubt, Rong Jing had saved her life.
She kept saying thank you.
Rong Jing sipped water from a cup, “Don’t be so polite. I’m going to charge you.”
The blunt “I’m going to charge you” somewhat spoiled the mood but strangely relaxed Shu Yuan’s tense body. She even managed a faint smile, “Alright, no matter how much.”
Rong Jing didn’t ask for a high price, since the matter wasn’t entirely resolved.
After all, they had caught the little ghost, but the mastermind remained unknown.
Thinking of this, he asked, “Do you mind telling me what exactly happened?”
Shu Yuan smiled bitterly, “Honestly, I’m not sure either. But... if it’s a matter of life and death, I do have suspects.”
She recalled the three people involved in the car crash, opened the news report on her phone, and handed it to Rong Jing, briefly recounting what had happened between herself and them.
These three were employees at a towel manufacturing factory under Danfeng Group.
To be precise, there was actually a fourth person in their small team—Bu Jun.
The four discovered that the factory used numerous carcinogenic illegal substances in towel production. Bu Jun accidentally disclosed this during a drinking session, angering the factory director who spent a lot of money to silence them.
Afterward, Bu Jun was frequently targeted at work.
Bu Jun had a bad temper and threatened the director, warning, “If you keep picking on me, I’ll leak this to the press. Let’s see who ends up worse off.”
The director was furious, reportedly smashing things that day.
But the next day, after blowing off steam, the director prioritized the factory, bringing good cigarettes, fine liquor, and a box of milk to apologize.
Though surprised by the director’s unusual approach, Bu Jun took it as a concession and felt relieved, swearing repeatedly to keep quiet.
Originally, that should have been the end, but unexpectedly, a few days later, Bu Jun suddenly died at home.
He was found slumped over his desk, the computer screen still open on a game interface.
“Bu Jun’s death shocked and scared the other three. For some reason, they firmly believed Bu Jun’s death was connected to the director. Although everyone told them it was an accident—confirmed by police investigation and autopsy.”
“Coincidentally, during this time, I, as the person in charge, went to inspect the factory and unexpectedly got in touch with them.”
“They came to you on their own?” Cheng Puyu listened intently.
Shu Yuan shook her head, “No, I heard about the matter from others and asked them directly. They told me everything truthfully. That’s when I realized Danfeng Group wasn’t as good as I thought. Using banned substances wasn’t the first time at their factories.”
“I asked some senior colleagues who had been with the company a long time and learned the company had quietly paid off many such incidents.”
No wonder Shu Yuan had come to Changhua Street that day to seek a divination about promotion.
Rong Jing cupped his face, understanding dawning in his eyes.
“To be honest, when I first saw the news about those three dying in a car crash, my first thought was the factory director.”
If Bu Jun’s death was just an accident, what about the three?
Could the world really be so coincidental?
Yet, like Bu Jun’s death, no irregularities were found in the three’s car crash.
“I even wondered if they’d taken psychiatric drugs, but inquiries didn’t confirm that. Until now, I finally understand the secret behind it all.”
—Ghosts.
Beings that most people don’t believe exist, yet had control over their deaths.