Chapter 138: Profound Realization

It was unclear how much time had passed.

When I woke up, my entire body felt weak, and my thighs were throbbing with pain. But thankfully, the doctors had pulled me back from the brink of death.

The jade corpse, Xie Xiaoyu, was sitting by the bed holding Little Rascal. When I opened my eyes, Little Rascal started barking excitedly.

Xie Xiaoyu also clapped her hands in delight.

After Little Rascal’s barks, I saw Chen Tutu walk in carrying a thermal lunchbox.

“Forensic Chen… thank you…” My voice was so faint that only I could hear it.

Chen Tutu opened the lunchbox, revealing a steaming bowl of congee.

It seemed that good deeds really did have their rewards—now I got to enjoy the congee Chen Tutu had made. After a few sips, my stomach felt much better.

Chen Tutu wasn’t much of a talker, and the atmosphere was a little awkward.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked.

“Two days,” Chen Tutu replied calmly. “Don’t worry, the aftermath at the old building has been taken care of. We hired someone named Yi Miao to handle the cleanup. The stone coffin has also been dealt with properly. Guo Furong was sent for cremation.”

“Hmm,” I nodded. “About what happened in the car…”

Chen Tutu’s expression remained impassive. “What happened in the car? I don’t know anything about that.” I nodded knowingly. “Right. Nothing. The congee you made is really delicious.” I took a few more sips, feeling a bit stronger.

Before leaving, Chen Tutu told me not to move around too much and said she’d visit again in the evening. I asked her to call Shen Yihu for me—the Shen Yihu who had fired the gun that day wasn’t really himself; he was just under some kind of evil influence.

I was worried that if Shen Yihu realized he was the one who had shot me, he’d blame himself. And it wasn’t something I could tell him directly—it was better coming from Chen Tutu.

Chen Tutu smiled faintly and said, “I know.”

It was a strange smile. Only after she left did I realize why it felt odd.

Chen Tutu had never smiled at me before—this was the first time.

The doctor and nurses came in for their routine check-up, asking how I was feeling.

I told them I was just dizzy, nothing else.

The doctor explained that dizziness was normal after losing a lot of blood. “You came back from the brink of death. As the saying goes, ‘Those who survive great calamities are destined for good fortune.’ Rest well—your body is strong, and you’ll recover in about a month with no lasting effects. However, the bullet graze on your face might leave a scar.”

I reached up and touched my face, where a bandage covered my right cheek.

I laughed. “Wasn’t Zhong Kui scarier than ghosts to be able to catch them? A scar might even help me in my future work.”

The doctor shook his head. “Nonsense.”

I remembered hearing gunshots when I was admitted to the hospital and asked what had happened.

After finishing his notes, the doctor regretfully told me that a taxi driver had been shot between the eyes and died instantly. I remembered the taxi driver following the police car—I never imagined someone would be bold enough to do that. The doctor advised me to rest before leaving with two long-legged nurses.

Shi Dake was dead. Killed by a close-range gunshot.

A month in the hospital nearly drove me insane. As the saying goes, “A bone injury takes a hundred days to heal,” and Shen Yihu wouldn’t let me leave, telling me not to worry.

Eventually, I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed a cane and sneaked out in the dead of night with the jade corpse and Little Rascal. Hobbling back home, I heard urgent knocking at the door late at night.

The moment I opened it, Zhou Liangliang slipped inside, pulling his cap low over his face.

“It’s you? Did the police find you later?” I asked.

Zhou Liangliang looked frantic. “Tell me. How did Furong die?”

“Why should I tell you?” I said warily.

He pulled out a gun and pressed it against my forehead. “Talk. If you don’t, I’ll shoot you right now.”

“You’d better put that gun away. My bodyguard can take you down in an instant.” I pushed the gun aside.

“Please, just tell me,” Zhou Liangliang finally relented.

“Guo Furong chose to die. But it might have something to do with her family. She was locked in Room 302 to absorb the corpse energy from the stone coffin. I think there was another purpose—they wanted to refine her into a fragrant corpse for the Guo family’s use. I’ve seen the old building’s feng shui—burying a stone coffin beneath it would create an extremely ominous burial ground. Combined with Guo Furong’s unique traits, raising a corpse from a living person would have created a formidable zombie.” I laid out my theory.

Zhou Liangliang clearly didn’t believe it. “No one who’s living well suddenly decides to die. Don’t lie to me—I’m not that easy to fool.”

“Believe it or not, the truth is what it is.” I could sense his resolve crumbling.

“She must have had a reason, she must have…” Zhou Liangliang clutched his head, trying to console himself.

“Truth is, we’re all the same—living in a world full of mysteries, only seeing fragments of the truth. Sometimes, what we see isn’t even real. Zhou Liangliang, you must have loved Guo Furong deeply. So I hope you can live well—find a job, get married, have children. Living a good life is the best comfort for the dead.” I gave him a pep talk.

But not everyone appreciates motivational speeches, especially those with strong convictions.

Zhou Liangliang gave a bitter laugh. “No matter who it was, I’ll find out the truth.”

“If you’re determined, I’ll tell you where to look—the Guo family in Hedong. Maybe you’ll find your answers there.” I gave him the address.

Zhou Liangliang gave me a grateful look, then suddenly asked if there was a window.

I pointed to my bedroom. He dashed through, pushed open the window, and climbed down the ledge and air conditioning units like a bat, disappearing into the night.

At that moment, the door was kicked open. A dozen well-equipped police officers stormed in, flashlights in their left hands and guns in their right, all beams fixed on me.

“Don’t move!” I shouted, afraid the jade corpse might attack.

“Where’s Zhou Liangliang?” the lead officer demanded.

“I don’t know him. He went out the window,” I said calmly.

“Damn it, he got away again. He’s the one who killed Shi Dake,” the officer sighed. “I know you’re Xiao Qi, and I know you’re innocent. But if Zhou Liangliang contacts you, report it immediately. By the way, he’s a professional killer.”

The team rushed downstairs to pursue Zhou Liangliang.

A professional killer? Why would he kill Shi Dake? I couldn’t make sense of it.

When Chen Tutu found out I’d sneaked out, she was furious. She made me bone broth every day, and I could barely stand the greasy taste.

Xie Xiaoyu wasn’t thrilled about Chen Tutu’s visits, but Little Rascal loved them—he got bones every day.

By the end of October, I could walk without the cane.

I gathered my tools and went back to the old building. It had been completely demolished. I heard that during demolition, the machinery malfunctioned several times, and a few workers were injured. Only after Yi Miao intervened did the demolition proceed.

I uprooted the two peach trees and burned them. As the smoke dissipated, I realized the trees had been like prison bars, trapping Ye Wenxin and the others inside. Now that the bars were broken, they were free.

The scroll inside the stone coffin had a long history, but burning it ended its journey through time.

Who had been preventing the old building from being demolished?

Behind the fog lay an unexpected beginning.

…

After two months of recovery, I’d thought a lot about life and death, love and hate—it had all changed me. I called Jiese and shared all my thoughts. As a Buddhist, he had a higher perspective and could offer insights I couldn’t see.

I told him I’d made an important decision.

After hearing me out, Jiese simply said, “It’s your choice.”

I bought a hundred white roses and went to Ji Qianqian’s hospital room. Without a word, I sat quietly outside.

I let my sorrow surface, then buried it deep inside.

Jiese brought Ji Xiaoxiao along. The little girl didn’t understand much—she thought her mother was about to wake up and was overjoyed.

“Are you sure about this?” Jiese asked.

I nodded. “No matter what, lingering hopelessly in this world isn’t fair to her. If I meet her in another life, I won’t let her slip away again.”

Jiese didn’t reply. He let go of Ji Xiaoxiao’s hand and whispered, “Go talk to your mom. Your uncle will be here soon to pick you up—tell her what you want to do.”

Ji Xiaoxiao asked, “Will Mom come with me when Uncle takes me away?”

Jiese smiled. “Yes, she will.”

Ji Xiaoxiao happily ran into the room and began talking to her mother—about dreams, about clouds, about everything. After a long while, Jiese stood up. “Xiao Qi, I’ll take Xiaoxiao outside. You go in.”

After they left, I entered and removed the Ghost Tear Pearl from Ji Qianqian’s neck.

She wouldn’t have to linger in endless darkness anymore.

That night, the soul reaper, Fox, came to take Ji Qianqian away.

Her body was sent to the funeral home, where Zhong Li applied minimal makeup. Just before cremation, Ji Qianqian’s older brother, Ji Maichen, arrived.

The siblings had relied on each other their whole lives, sharing the deepest bond. Ji Maichen punched me in the nose. He and Jiese had been in contact before and knew each other, so Jiese pulled him away. Ji Xiaoxiao seemed to sense something and began crying.

Ji Qianqian’s casket was finally pushed into the furnace.

A wisp of smoke later, only bones remained. Ground to ashes, they were placed in an urn.

Ji Maichen left Jiangcheng with the ashes and Ji Xiaoxiao.

Jiese was reluctant to let Xiaoxiao go but ultimately accepted it.

“Xiao Qi, do you know what the Diamond Sutra is about?” Jiese suddenly asked.

“Aren’t you the one taking the Diamond Sutra study group? Why ask me?” I looked at him, puzzled.

Jiese’s face was serene. “The study group ended a week ago. I’m leaving now. The Diamond Sutra… it says nothing at all. I gained nothing from it—still trapped in my own suffering.”

“That’s because you can’t transcend your emotional attachments. You don’t understand the sutra’s essence,” I teased.

Jiese was leaving, but Zhong Li definitely wouldn’t go with him.

From somewhere, a song drifted in:

*”At first, the careless you,*

*And the naive me,*

*Bound by fate in this mortal world,*

*Only to be silenced by life’s relentless grip.*

*Perhaps it was the world’s mistake…”*

(End of Volume 5.)