"Brother, don't try to fool your big sister, him being like this..." As she spoke, the woman secretly glanced at the deceased once more, then promptly fainted again.

Zhou Huan ground his teeth in frustration, summoning all his strength to hoist the woman onto his back, then hurried out the door and downstairs.

Just as Zhou Huan descended, Old Song and Dongzi rushed back. Seeing Zhou Huan carrying the woman down, Dongzi stepped forward to help. "Brother, let me take her, you can let go!" He reached out and gently took the woman from Zhou Huan's grasp.

Old Song approached and used the same method he used to revive Zhou Huan, pressing hard on the woman's Renzhong acupoint. She slowly regained consciousness. "Masters, I beg of you, please hurry and think of something! I can't just watch over him all day!"

"Master Ancestor, what exactly is going on?" Old Song asked, seeing the woman's panic.

Zhou Huan considered for a long moment before replying, "Zixuan, go find Wang Xiaohe and ask about the taxi driver. Under no circumstances should you let him cremate the body, remember that!"

"Alright, it seems all these incidents are connected to that female corpse. Perhaps we should summon Wang Xiaohe here!" Saying this, Old Song pulled out his phone and dialed Wang Xiaohe's number.

"Xiaohe, something strange has happened here again—someone has died. Could you come take a look? I'm at Saint Po Villa, Building Four." As soon as the line connected, Old Song stated his purpose directly.

The voice on the other end replied, "Someone else died? We haven't even finished dealing with the matters here. What? Fine, wait for me, I'll be right there!"

The call ended. Old Song suddenly clutched his injured hand, squatting down in immense pain.

"Zixuan?" Zhou Huan stepped forward and unwrapped the cotton cloth binding Old Song's hand. A look of genuine shock crossed his face. "This hand... how..." Zhou Huan was momentarily at a loss. Old Song's palm was dusted with ash, and the flesh that had been gouged out was now festering, oozing thick, black pus. The back of his hand was shriveling, covered in wrinkled, dead skin.

It was only when Zhou Huan spoke that Old Song realized how severe his hand had become. The woman, who had just woken up, took one look at Old Song's hand and promptly fainted again.

Dongzi stared blankly at Old Song's hand. "Brother, what do we do? Look, that old dame has collapsed again!"

"I can't do anything about it now. The female corpse's vengeful blood has mixed with his own. This... it seems the only way to save Old Song is to resolve the female corpse incident quickly before his entire body rots away." Zhou Huan carefully re-wrapped the cotton around Old Song's hand, then instructed Dongzi, "Take Old Song back and bury his hand in ash. Hopefully, this will slow the spread of the rot."

"Brother, if Old Song won't listen, I'll beat him into compliance. I don't want to coddle him. He insisted on coming back this time; I only held back because of his age and frailty." With that, Dongzi helped Old Song flag down a ride back to the funeral parlor. Dongzi gathered every bit of ash in the shop, put it in a basin, and helped Old Song bury his hand up to the wrist.

"Bastards! Smash his shop! Drag those two brats out and beat them!" A boisterous crowd gathered outside the funeral parlor, followed by a crash of shattering glass, and then the sounds of brutal physical assault.

Next door to the funeral parlor was a shop selling paper crafts and supplies for the deceased. They had a cooperative relationship with Old Song; Old Song always insisted on sharing profits, and since he was too busy to handle the intricate paper modeling himself, he often sent the paper figure business to his neighbor.

Old Song, quite surprised, dragged the ash basin containing his hand and went out with Dongzi to see what was happening. A crowd had already formed outside the paper craft shop.

A group of men in sharp suits and sunglasses were viciously beating the neighboring owner and his son. The storefront was already smashed, and the sign was ruined by the attackers.

"You two bastards, daring to strike our Master Qiang last night! If we don't teach you a lesson today, Master Qiang won't be able to maintain his standing here!" Dongzi thought the speaker sounded familiar.

Dongzi racked his brain. The group from last night looked strikingly similar to these men. Why would they have a grudge against the shop next door? This was blatant bullying.

A BMW X series slowly pulled up to the roadside. A man with his head heavily bandaged hobbled out, bent over as he walked to the front of the paper craft shop. "Stop right there. I want to see what kind of lowlife dared to hit me yesterday!"

Dongzi recognized the man getting out immediately—it was Wang Qiang. At that moment, Dongzi realized these incompetent thugs must have attacked the wrong people. The poor neighboring owner was taking the beating for them.

Wang Qiang stood before the paper shop owner and delivered a punch. Blood streamed down the owner's face, followed by another blow that sent him to the ground, unable to rise.

"You have no idea how high the sky is! You dare lay a hand on me, Wang Qiang? You think just because you ambushed us under the cover of darkness, I couldn't find you? To tell you the truth, I was divinely clever last night; I figured you'd run home, so I sent men to trail you here. Damn you! Tell me, why did you attack your Master Qiang!" As Wang Qiang spoke, he felt something was off about the shop owner; he didn't look like the man who had beaten him the night before.

The paper shop owner spat out blood and stammered, "Why are you smashing my shop? I haven't provoked you. I was home early last night; what escape are you talking about?"

The owner's words made Wang Qiang even more certain he had the wrong person. He looked up at the two shops, noting Old Song's funeral parlor right next door. Wang Qiang began scanning the area and suddenly spotted Dongzi. He sensed this man might be the one who attacked him last night.

As Wang Qiang’s gaze fixed on him, Dongzi knew the fool had figured out it was him.

Two police cars screeched to a halt in front of the funeral parlor, and four officers rushed into the crowd. "What's going on? Who started this?"

"Officer, they smashed my shop without provocation! Look how badly they beat my child!" the paper shop owner cried out his grievance.

"Take everyone in for questioning!"

Wang Qiang shoved through the crowd, his eyes locked on Dongzi, and walked toward him step by step. After staring for a long moment, he sneered, "Oh... so it's you, you little beggar! I'll smash your face in!" He completely ignored the presence of the police and raised his hand to strike.

The two officers didn't care who Wang Qiang was; they stepped forward and subdued him. "You still want to fight? Come with me!"

"I'm telling you, kid, this isn't over! I'll be back for you shortly!" Wang Qiang was hauled into a police car. Both squad cars were packed full, and they sped away, sirens blaring.

Dongzi let out a choked laugh. "These stupid bastards, calling themselves big shots of the underworld, damn it!"

As Dongzi and Old Song stepped back inside, they heard the urgent ringing of a phone. "Old Song, which building number did you say you were at? I’ve circled around and can’t find you!"

"Zhou Huan is waiting for you downstairs at Building Four. I'm at the funeral parlor. Go find him; he's my Master Ancestor." Before Old Song finished speaking, the person on the other end hung up.

Wang Xiaohe drove through Saint Po Villa. Building Four was deep inside the estate. She parked the car downstairs and saw Zhou Huan talking to a woman. Wang Xiaohe felt a surge of positive regard for Zhou Huan when she saw him now; she sensed from the incident that his experience was beyond ordinary, and he possessed a mature, stable, masculine quality.

"Zhou Huan, what exactly is going on here?" Wang Xiaohe asked after admiring him for a moment.

Zhou Huan smiled gently. "Why don't you come up with me? We can discuss it after you've seen."

"Then I won't go up," the woman next to him whispered, clearly terrified.

"You wait downstairs. Carrying you down was exhausting, and if you faint again, I won't have the strength," Zhou Huan said before leading Wang Xiaohe upstairs. Once inside, Wang Xiaohe saw the man lying on the bed, covered by a clean sheet of cotton cloth.

Zhou Huan lifted the cloth, revealing a horrifying corpse to Wang Xiaohe.

Wang Xiaohe gagged slightly but managed to suppress it for the sake of appearances, steadying herself after a moment. "Zhou Huan, this..."

"This corpse, and the corpse in the taxi, are both connected to that female ghost who jumped to her death. She is a specter of immense resentment. If we don't quickly uncover the reason for her grievance, more people will die, including Old Song!" Zhou Huan’s tone was grave and heavy.

Hearing Zhou Huan, Wang Xiaohe abandoned her purely scientific verification approach. "We have also uncovered some clues, but we are currently following up. The female corpse was not pushed to her death; she committed suicide intentionally. But what story lies behind that act—we are interviewing her relatives and friends. I believe we will have new leads soon."

"It seems this woman understood the manner of death. If we don't resolve her resentment now, all our efforts will be in vain, and nothing we do will suffice." Zhou Huan casually draped the cloth back over the man's body.

Wang Xiaohe noticed the green sleeve protruding from the man's abdomen and said quietly, "It seems he is connected to that woman too. We need to investigate immediately. Zhou Huan, I'll call the forensic team to collect evidence shortly. Let's cremate the body as soon as possible."

"Not yet. Put it in the freezer for now!" With that, Zhou Huan and Wang Xiaohe went downstairs. Zhou Huan told the woman waiting below, "Don't come back here for a while. Go stay with a friend."

"But I still have things to retrieve!"

"Go get them, but if someone dies up there, I'm not responsible!" Zhou Huan turned to Wang Xiaohe. "Can I go to your precinct to look at some files on the taxi driver? I need to find the connection quickly, or Old Song will turn into a dried husk soon."

"Certainly. Get in the car with me. We've already traced the taxi driver's social network; we can discuss it at the station." Wang Xiaohe took off her police cap, tossed it onto the car seat, and drove off with Zhou Huan toward the police station.

The woman watched the police car disappear into the distance for a long time. Suddenly snapping back to reality, she bolted away in a hurried run.