"Damn it!"
I shouted, then got up and chased after him. When I opened the door, I found that Leo Lee was nowhere to be seen. I turned back, clutching my chest in agony—at least a few ribs were broken.
Staring at the dented wall where I’d been slammed, anger surged through me. My ribs burned with pain.
The ten million yuan was still sitting on the table, but I had no interest in it. All I felt was fury. In that brief moment, I’d fallen into the trap of Leo Lee’s words—how would I live from now on?
Right now, my mind was filled with thoughts of my parents.
"Ethan, are you alright?"
Just then, a familiar voice called out—it was Hugh Thompson. I saw him glance at the box on the table before he spoke.
"As soon as I got the call, I sent a helicopter to pick me up. When I arrived at the police station, they said you’d been taken away. I did some digging and finally tracked you here."
I told Hugh Thompson about my run-in with the Immortality Society. Hugh laughed heartily, walked over, opened the box, and picked up a stack of bills, flipping through them with a rustle.
"They sure are generous. Heh, Ethan, since they gave this money to you, just take it. It’s no big deal—no need to be polite with those people."
I shook my head, clenching my fists. My ribs creaked as they slowly began to mend—my ghostly side was helping me heal. After a while, I lifted my shirt and looked at the swelling on my ribs. It was much better now, though there was still a faint, sharp pain.
"I have hands and feet. Even if I’m broke and life gets tough, I won’t starve."
I grew up watching my parents’ backs as they worked. They never had much money. My uncle originally wanted to give my parents a house, but my father insisted on paying for it, so my uncle sold it to them at a very low price. Even then, they scraped together every cent to afford it.
But despite everything, they were always happy. Money never made life feel unbearable for them.
"Alright then, Ethan, I’ll hold onto this money for now."
I nodded. Hugh Thompson picked up the cash box, and we moved to a different spot, choosing a random drink shop to sit down. I didn’t mention the trip to the underworld—instead, I told Hugh about Boss Chang’s strange death.
Just then, I saw Matron Noon—the senior Blue Wraith under Yvonne May—walking toward us.
"Where’s the item?"
Only now did I remember about my cousin’s matter. Hugh Thompson smiled, and I thanked him—he must’ve notified Yvonne May.
I peeled off the Lady Meng’s Elixir that clung to me and handed it to Matron Noon. She glanced at me.
"Ethan Zhang, you’re carrying something troublesome. You’d better go find Red Hair, or you might not survive the night."
I let out a sound of surprise. Matron Noon said nothing, took the item, and slowly walked out of the shop, vanishing from sight.
"Let’s go tonight—straight to Claire Zhang’s school."
I nodded.
"If that girl really can see ghosts, then maybe her father’s death wasn’t natural after all."
I nodded again, deciding that tonight, Hugh Thompson and I would wait outside Claire Zhang’s school. She’d just started her first year of high school and finished evening classes at ten. Her home was only three blocks from the school—Westside High, an old school with a long history.
Hugh Thompson and I waited until seven thirty. He handed the money to a nearby Ghost Burial Squad member, then we drove his car to Boss Chang’s house. After grabbing a bite at a small restaurant, we parked in a wide alley and arrived at Boss Chang’s store.
The grocery store was already open, run by Boss Chang’s half-brother, Zhang Lang. Business looked good—neighbors and locals came in a steady stream to buy things.
"Ethan, I’ll get someone to look into Zhang Lang. If he’s after the inheritance, he’ll probably change the property deed and bank account info."
I looked at the two-story grocery store—it was spacious and located on a bustling street.
Hugh Thompson and I wandered the street for a while. We saw the old Westside High School—it had clearly been around for years. We waited quietly; it was only a little after eight, so we sat at a milk tea shop across from the school.
Waiting for the first-year students to finish evening classes.
Beep beep beep—Hugh Thompson’s phone rang.
He answered, listened for a while, then hung up.
"That guy you used to work with at the cleaning company—Luo Xiang—is dead."
My heart skipped a beat. Luo Xiang was dead, and I hadn’t even known. Just a month or two without seeing him, and now he was gone.
The news hit me hard. I grabbed Hugh Thompson’s hand and asked him urgently.
"How did he die?"
Hugh Thompson shook his head. I clenched my fists, glaring out the window in anger. I couldn’t believe Luo Xiang was dead. During my two years at the cleaning company, he’d looked out for me. He loved to joke around, and everyone at the company liked him. He often called me to hang out.
"Ethan, get to the bottom of this."
I nodded, feeling a bit desolate inside. Ever since I entered the ghostly path, I’d lost touch with most of the friends I used to be close with.
I hadn’t even paid back the money I borrowed from Luo Xiang. I never expected he’d die so soon.
"How long has Luo Xiang been dead?"
I asked again.
"It’s been over a month, I think."
I lowered my head. Over a month ago, I ran into Luo Xiang after coming out of Fortune Teller Street, broke and desperate. He already looked much older then. I never thought that would be the last time I saw him.
A wave of sadness washed over me—I couldn’t accept it. For a moment, I could hardly breathe. Hugh Thompson kept patting my back.
After a while, I drank some water, clutching the cup as my whole body trembled. Near ten o’clock, I finally spoke, stood up, and wiped away my tears.
"Let’s go, Ethan. Leave this to me—I’ll start gathering information. You focus on finding the remaining items. Tomorrow, you should listen to Matron Noon and go find Red Hair. You have to visit Hwangpu Ruofei anyway, right?"
"Let’s wait and see."
The school’s evening bell rang. Soon, students poured out. I saw the Yellow Ghost waiting for someone.
It was Claire Zhang. Hugh Thompson and I moved closer, and he signaled for me not to reveal anything yet.
"Hello, Claire. We’re police officers. We have some questions about your father’s death."
As soon as Hugh finished, the Yellow Ghost spoke up.
"Claire, the police are here. Heh, hurry up and tell them your father’s life was stolen by a ghost."
Claire Zhang looked at us expressionlessly, then we took her to the milk tea shop.
Inside, the Yellow Ghost kept muttering to himself, but Claire ignored him. They seemed to know each other well.
"Officers, my father has already passed away. There’s nothing more to say, is there?"
Claire Zhang’s words were cold and distant.
Claire Zhang spoke, her voice cold and distant.
"Let me put it this way, Claire—we’re not ordinary police. Your father’s death was related to ghosts, wasn’t it? When did you start seeing ghosts?"
Claire’s previously blank face suddenly changed—her eyes widened in shock as she stared at us.
"I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Claire quickly regained her composure. The Yellow Ghost at her side suddenly bared its fangs and claws, moving toward us threateningly.
"Do it, Ethan."
I nodded. In an instant, I released a burst of baleful energy, wrapping up the Yellow Ghost. It screamed for help, while Claire stared at us in disbelief.
"Alright, Claire, let’s talk somewhere else."
We left the milk tea shop and got into Hugh Thompson’s car. The Yellow Ghost sat beside me, looking at me in fear.
"Tell me—what’s going on?"
"It was that woman, Wu Mei. She took my dad to get a photo taken."
Claire finally spoke. She pulled a photo from her backpack. Hugh Thompson looked at it, then handed it to me. He turned on the car’s light. Sure enough, it was Boss Chang—his hair was white, he looked old and tired, though he was still smiling.
I held the photo, sensing nothing unusual. I released ghostly threads to wrap around it—there was nothing special, except for a faint trace of ghostly energy lingering.
"What now, Hugh?"
"You’re with the Ghost Burial Squad, aren’t you?" The Yellow Ghost actually recognized us. I glanced at him.
"I’ve been dead for decades. You must be Ethan Zhang, right? Heh, my name’s Zhao Degang. Let’s be friends."
I made a sound of agreement, watching Zhao Degang. He seemed cheerful, so I reached out and shook his hand.
"Ethan Zhang, we’re friends now. You’ve got to look out for me."
I made an acknowledging sound, watching Zhao Degang as he kept shaking my hand, trembling all over.