Chapter Eleven: The Thief

Fan Biao pinched his fingers together and pulled a handkerchief, as blood-red and vibrant as fresh gore, from Le Dong's pocket.

The familiar color brought Le Dong to the brink of a breakdown. Before he could even react, the temperature in the room plummeted, and the air grew thick with a putrid, fishy stench of decay.

"Bang! Bang! Bang!"

The sudden slamming of the balcony window made Le Dong shudder.

"Hehehe..."

A female voice, oscillating between weeping and laughter, drifted from near and far. As the laughter emerged, the blood-red handkerchief, held between Fan Biao's fingers, began to writhe like a living thing. It stretched and elongated in mid-air, striking out like lightning toward Fan Biao’s throat.

"Hmph." Fan Biao let out a cold laugh, making no move to dodge.

"Zip!"

The moment the red handkerchief coiled around his neck, a flash of black light erupted from the collar of Fan Biao’s shirt. The handkerchief convulsed violently as if branded by a hot iron, emitting a sizzling, burning sound. The weeping laughter of the woman transformed into a shrill, piercing scream.

"Yo, this little rag has some skill."

Fan Biao’s mocking remark caused the red handkerchief to loosen instantly. Like a startled viper, it darted up and latched onto the ceiling fan, swaying back and forth.

Only then did Le Dong notice the ink-black pendant hanging from Fan Biao's neck. It was carved with astonishing detail—a fierce-looking man with a bristling beard and glaring eyes, radiating a formidable, awe-inspiring presence.

"Old Fan! Bind it!"

Everything happened too fast. Before Le Dong could even process the pendant, a strange shout from the Noodle Shop Owner behind him made him flinch again. He instinctively turned to look; the Noodle Shop Owner was already standing on the coffee table, pulling open his collar to reveal a pendant of the same ink-black material. However, his was carved with the image of a gaunt man holding a calligraphy brush, his eyes wide with fury and authority.

"Wenwen, give me the incense burner!"

Fan Biao, his back to Le Dong, reached out without looking. The blind young man, whose pupils were clouded white, reached out and grabbed the incense burner from the low table beside the sofa—the one used to worship some unknown deity—and tossed it over. The fluidity of his movement made it hard to believe he was blind!

"Thump."

With the burner in hand, Fan Biao glared. Just as Le Dong expected some grand technique, Fan Biao simply grabbed a handful of incense ash and tossed it at the fan with zero finesse.

"Ah—!"

The ash didn't scatter randomly; it seemed to strike the handkerchief with unerring precision. The red fabric on the fan shook violently, flowing like a pool of blood as it stretched, eventually coalescing into the silhouette of a faceless woman dressed in a blood-red wedding gown.

She spread her arms, and the hem of her gown fluttered without a breeze. A ghostly wind swept through the room, and the teacups on the coffee table shattered with a "crack."

"Oh?" Fan Biao looked surprised, though only slightly. "The Heaven and Earth Xuan Sect, the root of all energy!" He bit his middle finger, drew a blood talisman on his palm, and slammed it toward the red handkerchief.

The moment the blood talisman left his hand, it transformed into a bolt of golden light that shot toward the female ghost.

She flicked her body to avoid it, only to find the Noodle Shop Owner blocking her path. In his hand, he held a half-foot-long calligraphy brush; he dipped it into the scattered incense ash and painted a massive web in the air.

As the web formed, the ghost was trapped in the center, and black liquid began to ooze from the fabric of her crimson gown.

"You little rag, try running now!"

Fan Biao followed up with another strike of his blood-stained palm. With a sharp crack, the ghost’s figure shattered like glass. The red handkerchief curled up, ignited with a green flame, and turned to ash in an instant.

As the incense ash settled in the air, the room returned to calm, leaving only the sound of their heavy breathing.

"Is... is it over?" Le Dong’s voice trembled. He had never seen or even heard of such things.

Fan Biao shook his head, his expression grave. "I thought it was just a vengeful spirit with a grudge, but it’s nearly become a malevolent entity." He pointed to the ashes on the floor. "This was only a portion of her resentment; the original body is still elsewhere."

The Noodle Shop Owner wiped the sweat from his forehead and carefully tucked his pendant back into his robes. "And... she could appear anywhere at any time."

Le Dong turned deathly pale, immediately thinking of his wife. "Then what about my wife...?"

"She’s safe for now," the Noodle Shop Owner comforted him. "The female ghost’s primary target is you; she infected others just to get to you. As long as you are alive, the others will be fine. Besides, we’ve wounded her, so she won't be able to come out for a while. However..."

The Noodle Shop Owner exchanged a glance with Fan Biao and brushed the ash off his calligraphy brush. "However, since this spirit has become a malevolent entity, finding the source is now secondary. We must first deal with these resentful spirits clinging to you two. Even if we just injure them, it’s necessary, or you might not live long enough to find the source."

Knowing his wife was safe, Le Dong breathed a sigh of relief. But Cai Kun was in a different state; he stood up with a miserable expression. "Old Uncle, Dong’s red handkerchief is dealt with, but what about the leather shoes clinging to me?"

Fan Biao pondered for a moment. "Logically, those leather shoes will come looking for you... Think about it, where is your scent the strongest?"

"The casino?" Cai Kun said uncertainly.

"Casinos are too crowded; unlikely," the Noodle Shop Owner shook his head.

Cai Kun thought for a moment. "Then it must be my car or my apartment."

Fan Biao walked to the window to look at the van downstairs and beckoned to the blind young man. "Wenwen, take a look."

Though blind, the young man was agile. He leaned against the window for a few seconds before shaking his head. "Master, there is yin energy on the car, but it doesn't look like a hiding spot."

"Then it has to be the apartment," Fan Biao decided.

Cai Kun’s face turned green. "Master Fan, could you..."

"This..." Fan Biao glanced at his watch, his eyes flashing with a hint of urgency as they met the Noodle Shop Owner's.

"It’s not that I won't help you, but Old Zhou and I have other urgent matters to attend to." Fan Biao pointed to the Noodle Shop Owner. "But don't worry, my apprentice, Ma Wenwen, can handle it for you."

He gestured toward the blind young man's porcelain-white eyes and, seeing Cai Kun’s skeptical look, laughed. "Don't judge him by his age. He was born for this kind of thing. Having him there is more than enough."

Hearing the praise, the blind young man immediately puffed out his chest. "Don't worry! I am Master’s closing disciple! This is my first mission; it’ll definitely go smoothly!"

Though Cai Kun was ten thousand percent reluctant, he knew that being pushy now would be ungrateful. He reluctantly agreed, though his expression remained dismal.

Le Dong checked his watch; it was nearly 2:00 PM. Since he was "all alone" and Cai Kun was in the same boat, he offered to go along.

Cai Kun was naturally pleased; having company gave him more courage, and his mood lightened slightly. He took Ma Wenwen and headed downstairs.

Once inside the car, before Cai Kun had even finished turning around, he saw Fan Biao and the Noodle Shop Owner rushing downstairs, carrying large bags as they hopped into a Mercedes E300 and sped away.

"Damn, is your line of work that profitable?" Cai Kun smacked his lips, feeling a touch of envy.

Ma Wenwen curled his lip. "It's alright. A million or so a year..."

The car fell into silence. After a while, Le Dong tentatively asked, "Seeing them in such a rush, is it a big job?"

"Psh, it's an old case. They've been working on it since my grandmaster's generation, and they're still cleaning up the mess. It might even fall to me eventually..."

"What could it be to take so long?"

"Don't know... Master never lets me ask..."

Inside the car, the three chatted intermittently, mostly with Ma Wenwen talking about his "glorious victories"...

Along the way, Le Dong gathered that Fan Biao was quite famous in the industry for handling supernatural events, and the Noodle Shop Owner, Zhou Fan, was his long-time partner.

In the circle, they were known as "Zhong Kui" and the "Judge," which made Le Dong think back to the ink-black pendants on their chests...

At 4:00 PM, the van drove from the congested city traffic into the remote suburbs. When they arrived at the apartment complex, Cai Kun looked up at the eighth floor, his hands trembling on the steering wheel. "Master Ma, I’m counting on you!"

"A piece of cake!" Ma Wenwen patted the cloth bag at his side. "Once we get to your apartment, I'll set up a formation. I guarantee that malevolent ghost will have its soul scattered!"

With that assurance, the three entered the building. As the elevator ascended, Ma Wenwen suddenly frowned. "Good, good. It’s eighty percent likely to be here. The yin energy is getting heavier..."

Returning to the dim corridor, that familiar, eerie gloom made Le Dong shudder. Once they successfully entered the apartment, the chill grew even more intense.

Ma Wenwen observed the surroundings, closing his eyes to sense the air for a moment. "The yin energy is heavy, but there’s no sign of the leather shoes." He groped his way into the bedroom where the jump had occurred. "But it will definitely come back. We just have to wait."

The three sat in the living room. Ma Wenwen pulled several yellow talismans from his bag and pasted them on the doors and windows, then scattered a circle of incense ash in a corner of the room.

But they waited for a full three hours. If not for Cai Kun’s stash of instant noodles, they would have nearly starved to death.

At 9:10 PM, the three moved from the sofa to the bedroom. Cai Kun had lost his earlier tension and was snoring loudly with his mouth open. Even Ma Wenwen, the expert, had his head bobbing, the peach-wood sword in his hand hanging loosely.

"Sigh..."

Le Dong sighed, looking at his wife’s chat interface on his phone. It showed a selfie of her looking fairly healthy, along with a medical report concluding "suspected severe pica" and "somnambulism"...

Scrolling down, he saw her caring messages and an apology on behalf of her parents.

Le Dong responded with a few comforting words, his heart a mix of complex emotions. Even in this state, his wife still cared for him, which filled him with deeper guilt.

If not for him, how could she have become like this...

Lost in these thoughts, sleepiness washed over him. His eyelids grew heavy, and he lost consciousness.

"Click... thud..."

In his hazy state, Le Dong heard the sound of someone rummaging through cabinets in the living room.

A burglar?

The thought flashed through his mind. He glanced at the two men on the bed who were dead to the world, then quietly peeked through the gap in the bedroom door...