Chapter Twenty-Three: Seeking an Expert

The morning mist had yet to dissipate.

The first to step out of the iron gate was Butler Ma, who headed straight for a black sedan parked at the entrance to the underground garage, signaling Le Dong to get in.

“Where did you say this expert is located?” Butler Ma started the car, his eyes fixed on the road ahead.

Le Dong clenched the crumpled business card given by Fan Biao in his pocket and replied, “Not too far, but I need to make a call to confirm first.”

Butler Ma glanced over, pressed the brake, and stopped the car at the roadside halfway up the mountain.

He then took out his phone, a faint smile playing on his lips. “You give me the number, I’ll make the call.”

Watching Butler Ma’s movements, Le Dong silently cursed the old fox, then handed over the wrinkled card Fan Biao had given him. Ma took it, and upon seeing the words “Wangwang Coffin Shop, Fan Biao,” his brow twitched ever so slightly.

“How do you know this guy?” Butler Ma asked, dialing as he spoke.

“Heh, after last time’s best man duties, strange things started happening, so I found this person,” Le Dong answered.

Catching the undertone in Le Dong’s voice, Butler Ma kept a neutral expression, pressed the phone to his ear, and looked at Le Dong with a smile in his eyes: “Mr. Le, you still believe in these things…”

Before Le Dong could respond, the call was connected, and Fan Biao’s rough voice came through: “Hello? Wangwang Coffin Shop—redwood, cypress, you name it; nanmu and sandalwood are pricier. What kind of service do you need?”

“Hello, I heard the master is skilled in certain feng shui secrets?” Butler Ma toyed with the card, his tone laden with meaning.

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. “I’m out of town; I’m not taking on these kinds of tasks for now.”

After hearing the refusal, Butler Ma’s lips curved slightly. Just as he was about to hang up, Le Dong quickly interjected, “Master Fan, it’s me, Le Dong.”

Butler Ma’s hand holding the phone froze.

“Oh—” Fan Biao’s voice stretched out, “Where’s Wenwen?”

Le Dong was momentarily at a loss for words and glanced at Butler Ma beside him. “He… has something to attend to.”

“That rascal is probably slacking off again,” Fan Biao seemed to understand. “Alright, I’ll call him and have him get back to you.”

“Beep beep beep…”

The call went to voicemail, and silence returned to the car.

Butler Ma turned off the engine and casually asked, “Mr. Le, are you quite close with them?”

“Sort of,” Le Dong answered briefly, his gaze inadvertently falling on Butler Ma’s hands gripping the steering wheel—cracked and darkened, with knuckles thick and rough. For a fleeting moment, they seemed oddly familiar…

Suddenly, he recalled Madam Hu’s hands from that morning.

Lost in thought, Le Dong didn’t notice Butler Ma breaking the silence.

“Mr. Le, what do you think happened to Master Zhao?”

Le Dong’s heart tightened. He countered, “What do you think?”

“This kind of thing is either done by the living or…” Butler Ma spoke softly, “by the dead. Actually, the latter is more likely…”

His words sent Le Dong’s mind spiraling back. Master Zhao’s death was too strange—if not human, it must be the work of a vengeful spirit...

But could it be that spirit? The Hu couple? But those two only ever watched him and Cai Kun...

Frowning deeply, Le Dong pondered, ruling out all possibilities until suddenly remembering the inexplicable fear he felt the previous night...

Could it be…

Le Dong’s contemplative expression was fully observed by Butler Ma, who tapped rhythmically on the steering wheel as he continued, “Ah… if it really is the dead causing harm, it’s those who died unjustly. Their grievances are the strongest, and they love to torment the living.”

He glanced at Le Dong’s face as he spoke. “But old Master Hu died of old age, peaceful and natural, so he’s excluded. That leaves Hu’s son and daughter-in-law—hanged and skinned alive, a tragic death fitting the unjustly dead... What do you think… could it be them?”

Watching Butler Ma’s feigned reasoning, Le Dong retorted, “Seems Butler Ma knows quite a bit about these matters.”

Butler Ma chuckled softly, “Heh, forgot to tell you, Mr. Le, I’m just like you—I believe in these things too…”

With that, the car fell silent again, only the blinking hazard lights clicking in the dark.

Moments later, the phone rang, finally breaking the heavy atmosphere inside the car.

Butler Ma glanced at the incoming call display and smirked thinly at Le Dong. “By the way, I’ve heard some dark arts use these vengeful spirits to kill. I hope the expert you found doesn’t have such a taste…”

Before Le Dong could speak, Butler Ma turned to answer. On the other end came Ma Wenwen’s voice: “Hello… who is this? Give the phone to Le Dong.”

Taking the phone, Le Dong feigned urgency, “Master Ma, could you come to the villa area? There’s something that needs your handling.”

“Hmm… I’m actually nearby having a meal, I’ll be there soon,” Ma Wenwen replied straightforwardly.

After hanging up, Butler Ma looked at the phone and suddenly asked, “Mr. Le, did you happen to find a phone yesterday?”

Le Dong’s heart skipped a beat, but he forced a calm shake of his head.

“The delivery guy said he lost his phone, thought it was left in the villa,” Butler Ma mused, stroking the device. “But it’s fine if it wasn’t seen. No wonder the delivery guy didn’t deliver last night. Now he’s been complained about—he probably feels like killing someone!”

When he said “kill,” Butler Ma’s tone abruptly hardened.

Startled by the sudden sharpness, Le Dong felt uneasy. He used the excuse of wanting a smoke to get out of the car and stood at the roadside, taking deep breaths. His back was soaked in cold sweat.

Glancing in the window at Butler Ma’s watching eyes, Le Dong muttered under his breath, “That old fox is like a wild wolf—being around him is truly unbearable.”

After five cigarettes burned down to ashes, a taxi appeared halfway up the mountain.

Ma Wenwen stepped out, carrying a shoulder bag, and deliberately thanked the driver with impeccable acting skills.

Le Dong approached quickly, lowering his voice before Butler Ma had even gotten out of the car. “Finally, you’re here. That Master Zhao’s sudden death—there’s a chance you’ll get involved. The villa’s situation is complicated. I suspect the source lies with Butler Ma.”

Ma Wenwen’s porcelain-white eyes glanced forward as he whispered, “We’ll talk inside.” He then pulled a suitcase from the taxi’s trunk.

Le Dong was surprised. “I didn’t see you bring a suitcase when you went to the back mountain?”

“Uh…” Ma Wenwen’s expression was awkward. “After I cast the coins that day, I went back the next day. Just got my things ready to come when my master called, saying something was off with you.”

Le Dong’s eyes widened. “So you really were just having a meal nearby?”

Ma Wenwen nodded affirmatively.

Only then did Le Dong realize Ma Wenwen hadn’t been guarding the low mountain all along, which made him shudder with fear—had he known there was no backup, the terror of these days might have driven him insane.

“Hello.”

Butler Ma approached from behind, his gaze lingering briefly on Ma Wenwen’s eyes. He reached out to help with the luggage but was deftly avoided.

“I’m Hu’s steward. May I ask the master’s name?” Butler Ma asked politely.

“Ma Wenwen.”

“Master Ma is surprisingly young yet well-versed in feng shui secrets,” Butler Ma smiled.

“A kind exaggeration,” Ma Wenwen replied coldly.

Declining Butler Ma’s attentions, the three got into the car one after another. On the way back to the villa, Butler Ma kept glancing at Ma Wenwen in the rearview mirror. “How many years have you studied under your master?”

“How old do you think I am?” Ma Wenwen countered.

“Twenty-six or twenty-seven?”

“Then as many years as that,” Ma Wenwen answered, leaving Butler Ma momentarily speechless.

After a while, as the car entered the villa gate, Ma Wenwen, who had been leaning back in the rear seat, suddenly sat upright. His porcelain-white eyes stared at the villa, his voice tinged with disbelief:

“Such heavy yin energy…”