Rachel Lan decided to stay with her mother for a while to learn some things, so I had no choice but to call the Ghost Burial Squad. I had to visit Uncle Charles' house to deal with my cousin's situation. I couldn't keep him in the squad forever—I had to explain everything to Uncle Charles.
After saying goodbye to Rachel Lan, I left the Lan Mountain Café and headed for the main road in the area, waiting for Hugh Thompson to drive over and pick me up.
It wasn't too far from the Ghost Burial Squad Headquarters. About half an hour later, I saw the squad's car arrive—Hugh Thompson was driving, and Justin Huang was in the back seat.
"Ethan, hurry up and get in. It's getting late."
As soon as I got in, Justin Huang leaned forward, his face full of excitement.
"Damn, Ethan, if I'd known, I would've gone with you. Hey, next time something comes up, remember to call the brothers first, alright? It's too dangerous to go alone."
"Thanks."
That was all I said, but I was genuinely grateful to these guys. We drove for more than two hours. Night had fallen, and traffic was seriously jammed. With no other choice, we stopped somewhere to eat.
It was almost 7 o'clock, and to get to Uncle Charles' house in Baole Mountain, with the current traffic, it would take at least another two or three hours. It was rush hour.
"Ethan, no need to rush—just take it easy," Justin Huang said, still eating and drinking. Honestly, I was a little afraid of Uncle Charles. The truth is, because of his strict routine, he always went to bed by nine-thirty. I remember one time, my cousin and I made a racket at night, and Uncle Charles beat us up pretty badly.
I remember that time—my cousin and I really got it bad. The next day, Uncle Charles acted like nothing happened, laughing and joking, but ever since then, I've had a shadow in my heart. I was a bit scared of him.
Uncle Charles' temper is a lot like my cousin's, except he's even more unpredictable. I've seen him scold his subordinates before—so harshly that they looked like they wanted to die on the spot.
When I brought it up, Hugh Thompson agreed it was a tough situation, and Justin Huang looked even more worried.
"After all, his son ended up like that... sigh."
Justin Huang said this as I looked out at the parked car. In the back was my cousin, now turned into a golden Buddha statue—hard as a rock. You could still see his features, but he looked more like a work of art than a person.
With no other choice, I pulled out my phone and dialed the number of the ghostly taxi driver, Ray Lin. After all, even if we waited till tomorrow, I'd still have to explain my cousin's situation to Uncle Charles.
"Ethan, what are we waiting here for?" Justin Huang asked. I smiled and replied:
"Have you ever ridden in a ghost taxi? It's pretty wild."
I said this, and Hugh Thompson grinned. Sure enough, less than half an hour later, just as dusk was falling, Ray Lin pulled up beside us in his taxi.
Hugh Thompson locked the car, and then Justin Huang hunched over and got into the back. I followed, while Hugh Thompson took the front passenger seat.
"You finally called me, huh? Heh, Ethan Zhang, after that last time, my boss chewed me out when I got back. You didn't call for days, and the boss even asked if I'd neglected you."
"Sorry, Master Lin. Can we get there before nine?"
I apologized as I asked, and Ray Lin gave me an OK gesture and started the car.
Justin Huang looked a little unhappy as we sped down the street.
"Relax, brother. People outside can't see us. But you, Brother Zhang—haven't seen you in a while, but your yang energy's gotten so strong. Us little ghosts actually find you scary now."
At 8:50, we arrived at the Baole Mountain villa district. The place was nestled by the hills and water, quiet and beautiful. Uncle Charles didn't go to the company much anymore—he let trusted subordinates handle things. My cousin used to help too.
With a screech, the car stopped. Ray Lin smiled and said:
"This is as far as I can take you."
All around were neatly planted roadside trees. Ahead stood one of those old-style archways, but this one glowed with golden light.
"That's a ghost-repelling array. Heh, looks like the rich folks here really believe in this stuff."
Ray Lin parked the car. As soon as we got out, we started running, but it was already nine o'clock. Seeing me getting anxious, Justin Huang hoisted both me and Hugh Thompson onto his shoulders and dashed behind the roadside trees, sprinting like crazy.
By 9:10, we reached Uncle Charles' villa. All I could see was a lush green lawn and a white European-style building—I still remembered there was a golf course inside.
I rang the doorbell. Justin Huang was carrying a big wooden box with my cousin inside.
Nervously, I peered inside. Soon, a guard came over and asked who I was. I told him I was Uncle Charles' nephew, Ethan Zhang, but he looked doubtful. Only after he radioed Uncle Charles did he let us in.
We crossed the lawn and entered the house, then were led to the living room. Sitting in the middle of a white sofa was a man in his fifties, wearing a bathrobe, with dragon-like eyebrows and a commanding presence. He saw me and smiled, then spoke.
"Ethan, what brings you here at this hour? Did your cousin send you to talk to us? Huh? Tell him this: he'd better get back to Universal Temple soon. I've frozen all his bank accounts—he's had enough fun, it's time to shape up."
I kept nodding, but I was so embarrassed I didn't know what to say. Uncle Charles lit a cigar, then casually tossed two to Hugh Thompson and Justin Huang. They caught them, and we sat across from Uncle Charles.
Uncle Charles' eyes never left the box Justin Huang had set down. His gaze was sharp, as if he sensed something was wrong.
"Ethan, be honest with me. Did something happen to your cousin?"
I nodded nervously.
"Hey, how bad could it be? Even if the sky falls, the earth will hold it up. What are you so scared of, Ethan? You've always been too honest—after all these years, you could at least make up a story to fool me, like that Howard kid does."
"Uncle, let me explain."
Seeing I really couldn't speak, Hugh Thompson stood up and slowly explained everything to Uncle Charles—how we went down to the Ghostrealm and what happened with Lord Wraith. After more than an hour, Uncle Charles fell silent. After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"So you guys are from the Ghost Burial Squad? I've heard of you before. Open the box—let me see what my son has become."
Justin Huang got up and opened the box. A golden light shone out. Uncle Charles walked over step by step, reached out, and touched Howard Zhang's body. He sighed. I saw the sadness in Uncle Charles' eyes and hurried to stand up and walk over, hanging my head like a child who'd done something wrong.
"I'm sorry, Uncle Charles. My cousin ended up like this because of me..."
"That's enough, Ethan. Just tell me—Howard Zhang isn't dead, right?"
I remembered what Brother Owen said—my cousin's body and soul had been fused together. I nodded.
"It's not a big deal. As long as he's not dead, there's always a way. I'll call Master Thomas Zhou over to take a look."
I breathed a sigh of relief, but then I thought of my aunt and immediately asked about her.
"Your aunt—well, women, you know. As soon as she heard about the Ghost Twins, she ran off to stay at the temple. She kept saying your cousin was going to hell, so she had to burn incense and pray for him."
Then Uncle Charles took out his phone, shot a video and some photos, and sent them over. After a long call with Master Zhou, Uncle Charles let his hand drop, exhausted.
"Looks like we have to take Howard Zhang to Universal Temple to see his master and Master Richard Ming. They should be able to help. Tell me, Ethan, what happened to your cousin in the end?"
With red eyes, I started to speak, mumbling.
"In the end, my cousin risked his life for me. He protected me, taught me so much—it was all because of me..."
Uncle Charles rubbed his nose and put his hand on my head.
"Ethan, I don't blame you—don't beat yourself up. I just need to know what that kid did. Come on, have a drink with me, Ethan."
The whole time, Uncle Charles kept talking about how my cousin and I used to get into trouble together. As he drank, he got drunk and started crying.
After Uncle Charles fell asleep, the three of us sat in the living room. We were tipsy but still clear-headed. Justin Huang sat next to me, trying to comfort me.
Suddenly, Justin Huang's face changed and he stood up.
"There's something going on outside."
I saw Justin Huang's ears twitch. The three of us got up and rushed out. On the lawn, the security guards were sprawled everywhere—thirty or forty people, all collapsed. The smell of alcohol was strong.
It was a big monk with a bushy beard, black prayer beads around his neck, and a wine jug in his hand.
"Quick reflexes, huh? Heh. Boys, hand over the Buddha Statue of Visions that belongs to our Renegade Monks."
"Master, right now the Buddha Statue of Visions is with my cousin. Do you have any way..."
"Careful, Ethan, Hugh!" Justin Huang shouted, grabbing both me and Hugh Thompson and pulling us back. The monk took a swig of wine and suddenly spat it out at us. With a roar, flames consumed the lawn.
I stared in shock. As the flames died down, I saw the Renegade Monk crush the wine jug with a bang.
"Enough talk. His life or death means nothing to me. Hand it over, Ethan Zhang."