Wang Xiaohe saw Zhou Huan catch his breath, stood up disdainfully, tossed the tissue in her hand aside, and sneered, "Hmph! Playing dead!" Then she turned and headed into the morgue.

Old Song pressed a hand to the wound on Zhou Huan's forehead. Just then, the funeral home staff brought the equipment Old Song had requested. Soon after, Wang Xiaohe emerged from the morgue, holding a roll of gauze, and handed it to Old Song, "Uncle Song, help him wrap the wound!"

Old Song smiled faintly, "Why don't you do it? I'll go handle the body."

"Me?" Wang Xiaohe appeared somewhat shy at this, yet she couldn't lose the demeanor of a female officer. "Dongzi, your brother is in your hands!" With that, she followed Old Song into the morgue to begin processing the corpse.

Dongzi helped Zhou Huan wrap the bandage, but Zhou Huan acted as if nothing had happened, walking into the morgue to watch Old Song perform the ritual.

Old Song poured the black dog's blood into a jar, burned paper offerings, took a handful of ash in his hand, and chanted an incantation. When the chanting finished, he tossed the ash into the jar, then used a forensic syringe to draw the blood-tinged fluid from the freezer, and subsequently poured that fluid into the jar.

Zhou Huan walked steadily closer to the freezer and stated in a low, serious tone, "Song Zixuan, this method is flawed!"

His single sentence stunned everyone present, most surprised of all being Old Song: "You? Your voice has changed?"

"Brother, what's wrong with you? Did you hit your head too hard?" Dongzi was equally surprised; Zhou Huan's voice sounded like it belonged to a completely different person.

Zhou Huan looked at everyone and said, "I am Zhou Huan, a Life Master. I have just returned to my past life, and I will explain it to you slowly later. Don't talk much now. Zixuan, hurry up and draw the blood. His bones are dissolving into blood already. This jar of yours isn't big enough, and furthermore, you can't use a syringe to draw the blood. You must first splash the dog's blood into the freezer to let the two bloods mix, and only then draw it out."

"This?" Old Song hesitated slightly, but he knew Zhou Huan was a Grandmaster of his lineage. Though he had never heard of the method Zhou Huan proposed, it held a certain logic. So, he followed Zhou Huan's instructions.

Wang Xiaohe and the others nearby couldn't comprehend Zhou Huan, but seeing Old Song comply, they said nothing, only watching Old Song operate.

In a short while, Old Song managed to transfer the mixed blood from the freezer into the ceramic jar following Zhou Huan's procedure.

Old Song tossed the used syringe aside, his hands busy with nervous energy. Finally, he pulled a square of red cloth and a piece of oil paper from his pocket. He sealed the jar with the oil paper, then wrote the character "Seal" in gold powder on the red paper, drew an exorcism talisman, and affixed it to the jar.

Zhou Huan nodded from the side, then urged Old Song, "Zixuan, quickly clean up the equipment. We must bury the ceramic jar before dawn."

Old Song hesitated and shot Zhou Huan a look. Dongzi came up to help, and the cluster of policemen also moved to assist. Zhou Huan stopped them: "None of you should touch this. Your police uniforms carry an aura of killing; don't invite trouble."

The policemen exchanged glances, then looked back at Wang Xiaohe. Wang Xiaohe nodded: "Let them do it. We can't handle this funeral ritual properly. We will properly investigate the case starting tomorrow."

"Ouch!" Old Song pricked his hand on the syringe, which contained some residual blood.

"Zixuan, quickly squeeze out the blood in your hand!" Zhou Huan rushed over, grabbing Old Song's hand and helping to press out the blood.

Old Song pulled his hand back, sucked briefly at the wound a few times, and then said casually, "It's fine. The blood is mixed with dog's blood; I'm not afraid." With that, he cradled the ceramic jar and headed out of the morgue toward the mass grave behind the crematorium.

Wang Xiaohe and the police officers, along with the funeral home staff, followed Old Song.

Zhou Huan casually scooped up a handful of ash from the floor and scattered it into the freezer, mumbling an incantation.

Dongzi had already sprinted to the morgue door: "Brother, let's go. It's just us two left. There are too many dead people here; it feels kind of cold!"

The funeral home staff turned to Dongzi and said, "If you're scared, follow us. Turn off the lights and lock the door!"

Zhou Huan finished the incantation and walked out of the morgue, turned off the lights, locked the door, and followed the group down the path.

The light rain had stopped. Everyone arrived at the mass grave, which was enclosed by a perimeter of iron railings. A rusty iron gate, nearly decayed, hung ajar. The funeral home staff opened it. A gust of damp, cold wind swept across everyone's faces, sending shivers running through their bodies.

"Find a place and dig a pit exactly six feet deep—not one inch more, not one inch less!" Old Song instructed the funeral home staff.

The staff member quickly replied, "We have existing spots; I'll take you there."

Hearing Old Song's words, Zhou Huan pondered the issue of the female corpse several times in his mind. He felt Old Song's method was plausible but lacked precision.

Soon, everyone was led to an open area dotted with several large pits. Scattered around these pits was a field of small graves, with no headstones in front of them, resembling desolate islands in a cold sea.

"No, she cannot be buried like this. Zixuan, six feet should be extended by another three inches. Deep burial will benefit this woman." Just as Zhou Huan finished speaking, Wang Xiaohe’s phone rang.

"Sister Wang, we have a situation. An abnormal death on Baoshan Street." A new case was reported from the other end of the line.

Wang Xiaohe quickly and calmly replied, "Secure the scene; I'm on my way." Saying that, Wang Xiaohe entrusted the matter of the female corpse to Old Song and one forensic doctor, then left with another forensic doctor through the broken iron gate. The sound of an engine starting, followed by a siren, marked Wang Xiaohe driving her police car far away.

Following Old Song's method, the group buried the ceramic jar containing the female corpse's blood. Zhou Huan stepped forward to help Old Song measure the pit's depth, then scattered a handful of ash before they covered it with earth. Next, everyone left the mass grave. Master Li from the funeral home drove Old Song and the two others toward the clothing shop. Passing Baoshan Street, they spotted Wang Xiaohe leaning against her police car, lost in thought.

Old Song proactively got out of the car, leading Zhou Huan and Dongzi over to Wang Xiaohe. Master Li drove off.

Zhou Huan approached Wang Xiaohe and asked, "Officer, do you require our assistance?"

Wang Xiaohe looked at Zhou Huan, silent, still deeply engrossed in her own thoughts.

Old Song scratched his injured hand and asked Wang Xiaohe, "Have you finished the autopsy yet?"

Wang Xiaohe waved her hand, and Old Song understood her meaning. He ducked under the police tape and entered the crime scene.

Dongzi stared blankly at Zhou Huan and Wang Xiaohe, muttering, "Just a wave, and Old Song went to work by himself—that’s awesome!" He then followed Old Song into the scene.

Zhou Huan looked at the scene from a distance. Hmm? That car looks so familiar. Could it be... the taxi we just rode in? He realized this incident was connected to the woman they saw in the funeral home, but then he saw Old Song and Dongzi frozen outside the driver’s door, as if paused in time.

The rain-washed sky revealed scattered stars, and a gust of night wind blew in, carrying a **bitter fragrance that enveloped everyone’s minds.

Wang Xiaohe looked at Zhou Huan now, her voice cold as she spoke: "Zhou Huan, didn't you say you weren't afraid of the dead? Go take a look. Maybe you'll have some different insights." At this moment, Wang Xiaohe was gradually developing a degree of trust in Zhou Huan; after all, Old Song, whom she trusted more, had followed Zhou Huan's instructions.

Zhou Huan ducked under the cordon, walked past Old Song and Dongzi, and leaned in to look at the corpse in the car. It was the taxi driver. He had died horribly. Zhou Huan glanced back at Old Song and Dongzi; both stood motionless, speechless.

"Zixuan, you deal with corpses often, so why such terror?" The words Zhou Huan spoke carried considerable authority, truly like a teacher addressing a student.

Old Song felt utterly ashamed under Zhou Huan's censure. He steadied his mind: "In all my years, I've only dealt with corpse issues that science couldn't solve. But this driver’s death is simply..."

"Brother, dead people are terrifying enough; this one is too gruesome to look at. I think I'll wait outside for you guys!" Saying that, Dongzi's legs went weak, and he turned to walk outside the cordon.

Zhou Huan didn't say much. He walked up to the car window and closely examined the deceased taxi driver.

The driver sat dead in his seat, his neck tightly constricted by a long, green long-sleeved garment. His tongue lolled out, and sticky saliva had dried around his mouth. One of his left eyes had been pierced by another long green sleeve, which exited through the back of his head and draped over the trunk of the taxi. The remaining right eye held an expression of immense terror; dried tear tracks marked the corner of his eye, and his pupil, instead of dilating, remained constricted. A red overcoat enveloped the driver's upper body; his lower half was exposed to the night wind.

"The female corpse has a problem; our method cannot stop her. Her heart is filled with immense hatred," Zhou Huan murmured with melancholy.

Wang Xiaohe quickly turned to Zhou Huan and asked, "Then should we let her continue killing indiscriminately?"

"Your duty as police is to quickly ascertain the deceased's background and the reason for the suicide jump. Only then can you stop her in the shortest time possible. Otherwise, everyone who has offended her in the future will suffer a terrible death." Zhou Huan’s words struck a chord with Wang Xiaohe. Her trust in him now nearly surpassed her trust in Old Song, because Old Song's reaction to this body was abnormal in its terror, whereas Zhou Huan remained exceptionally calm.

Wang Xiaohe gave orders: "Open a case for immediate investigation. No one sleeps tonight. Xiao Ma, process the scene; the rest of you return to the station to plan tomorrow's investigative actions."

"Zixuan, let the police handle the investigation. Let's go back and think carefully about how to dissipate the resentment of the woman who jumped." Zhou Huan led Old Song toward the clothing shop.

Baoshan Street was not far from Old Song’s clothing shop—only about a ten-minute walk. Thus, Wang Xiaohe didn't arrange a car to take them, heading straight to the police station with her team.

The three had not walked far from the scene when Dongzi pointed toward the entrance of a KTV: "Brother, look over there!" As the three walked, Dongzi pointed to the entrance of a KTV, from which four or five people staggered out, one figure among them strikingly familiar—a short, stout person resembling a potato.