Zhou Huan and Wang Xiaohe arrived at the precinct. Wang Xiaohe led Zhou Huan into her office, pulled a stack of files from her drawer, and tossed them onto the desk. "Take a look. This is the information on the three deceased. I’m hoping you, as a Shoushi (Funeral Master), can find clues regarding the supernatural aspects."

Zhou Huan meticulously examined the files Wang Xiaohe handed him, scrutinizing every detail. The common thread among all the victims was a connection to the woman who had supposedly committed suicide by jumping from a building. Furthermore, each victim was dressed in the same red tunic with green sleeves as the deceased woman.

"Xiaohe, there must be a mutual link between these victims and the woman. I can say with certainty that they all did something detrimental to her while she was alive. And her cause of death is tied to these individuals," Zhou Huan told Wang Xiaohe.

Wang Xiaohe frowned slightly. "This woman was a migrant worker. We found her apartment, but didn't discover any useful clues. After several days of comparison and verification by our officers, we found she was from Tonghua, Jilin Province, and unmarried, with an elderly mother back home. We’ve already sent people to her hometown to investigate; we should have results in about two days."

"Ah, two days. Who knows how many more people will die by then? We don't know how many people here are connected to this woman’s death, or why she committed suicide. Until we figure that out, we can't find the root of the problem," Zhou Huan finished saying just as Wang Xiaohe's phone rang.

"Officer Wang, Old Song collapsed. Is my brother there?" The voice on the line was Dongzi’s.

Wang Xiaohe immediately turned to Zhou Huan. "Old Song collapsed. Let's go quickly and check."

Wang Xiaohe’s expression turned grave. Given that Old Song was a partner she had worked with for many years, it was only proper to go and see. She steadied her nerves and said into the phone, "Take care of Old Song first, call 120 for emergency services, we'll be right there!"

"Hmm, it must be that the wounds on Old Song have flared up. We need to find a way to stop the progression of his injuries quickly, or Old Song will also die a terrible death!" With that, Zhou Huan and Wang Xiaohe got into the car and rushed toward the Shouyi (Funeral Clothes) shop.

When the two arrived at the shop, the ambulance was almost arriving simultaneously. A crowd had gathered outside the entrance.

Before getting out of the car, Zhou Huan leaned close to Wang Xiaohe and whispered, "Have the paramedics wait. Let me check first!"

Saying that, Zhou Huan rushed into the building ahead of the emergency personnel. "Dongzi, how is Old Song?"

"Not dead yet, still breathing, but..." Dongzi's words caught in his throat. He stepped forward, pulled Zhou Huan aside, and secretly pointed to Old Song's arms. "Brother, look at his hands, they are already..." Dongzi couldn't finish the sentence before his physical reaction kicked in, making dry heaving unavoidable.

The paramedics followed Zhou Huan inside, and Wang Xiaohe stood behind Zhou Huan, stopping them at the doorway.

Zhou Huan bent down to look. The outer sides of Old Song's arms were starting to shrivel, drained of moisture, resembling mummified flesh. The inner sides were severely putrefied, oozing deep yellow pus mixed with murky streaks of blood. A stench of decay permeated the air. Old Song’s face was waxy yellow, the muscles around his mouth twitching incessantly, his breathing shallow, and his brow deeply furrowed.

Zhou Huan stared intently at Old Song’s body, slowly extending his hand to grasp Old Song's arm, his expression grave. "Dongzi, prepare cinnabar and yellow paper, and grab a knife from the kitchen!"

"Brother, will a kitchen knife do?" Dongzi asked casually.

"If it can cut meat, it will do! Go quickly, stop nagging!" Zhou Huan's tone became urgent.

Turning around, Dongzi returned to Zhou Huan, one hand holding the knife and the other clutching the cinnabar yellow paper. "Brother, tell me, which hand do you want to chop?"

"Stop fooling around! Neither of you can just decide to chop off his hand. Let me see what’s actually going on," Wang Xiaohe said from the doorway. Hearing Zhou Huan ask for a knife, she had been curious. When she got close and saw the state of Old Song’s arms, her stomach lurched up into her mouth involuntarily. She stood there stunned for a moment, then snapped back to reality. "Dongzi, you can't chop either hand. This requires documentation and certification from a doctor before any amputation can occur."

Zhou Huan looked up at the two clueless novices before him, feeling utterly helpless. He had to patiently explain. "The cinnabar and yellow paper are for writing talismans, and the kitchen knife is for scaring ghosts. Officer Wang, my beautiful police officer, would you mind standing guard at the door? No one else should enter for now. I will call you when needed. You cannot possibly understand how a Shoushi operates."

"Brother, what should I do?" Dongzi pondered, his conviction solidifying. "Hmph, I know! You want me to scare the ghost, right? Fine!" Dongzi raised the knife in his hand. "Heheheh!" He struck a stance.

Zhou Huan snatched the kitchen knife from Dongzi’s hand. "Prepare the censer ash and sprinkle a perimeter around Old Song!"

Dongzi mumbled to himself as he followed Zhou Huan’s instruction, sprinkling the ash: "Am I really incapable of scaring a ghost?"

Zhou Huan used cinnabar to quickly inscribe three talismans on the yellow paper. After lighting one with a flame, he stuffed one talisman into Old Song’s mouth, one into his own, and smeared the dust from the third onto the kitchen knife. He then gave Dongzi a faint smile and said, "It's not that you can't scare the ghost; it’s that I’m afraid you’ll scare the ghost to death!"

Zhou Huan’s remark made Dongzi’s face flush crimson, and Wang Xiaohe, listening from the side, revealed a smile that Zhou Huan had never seen before.

As soon as Zhou Huan finished speaking, he pushed forward with his left hand in a jianzhi (sword finger) gesture and shouted, "Whose evil spirit is this? I believe you have a grievance, please come out and speak!"

The space inside and outside the room fell deathly silent. No one spoke. All that could be heard was Old Song’s strained breathing and faint, pained moans, while Zhou Huan chanted his invocation.

Zhou Huan scanned the area carefully, continuously shouting, "Show yourself quickly, or I’ll start using the blade!" He then brandished the knife a few times, sending streaks of white light slicing through the dim interior.

At this moment, everyone inside and outside was dumbfounded, sensing that Zhou Huan was perhaps a bit too uncanny. Wang Xiaohe wondered internally: What trick is this Zhou Huan playing? If he doesn't save the man soon, he’ll lose his breath. Thinking this, Wang Xiaohe prepared to step forward to pull Old Song onto the ambulance, but seeing the condition of his arms, she hesitated. She felt that what Zhou Huan was doing might actually be correct.

At this point, Old Song, lying on the floor, spoke in slow, drawn-out, yet stiff words, sounding like a woman’s voice: "Why did you call me out? None of you can solve my problems; none of you are capable. I tell you, stop wasting your energy. Anyone who acted against me, anyone who harmed me, must die! Hahahaha, they must die!"

As the voice faded, an airflow resembling a phantom shimmered and vanished, leaving only faint echoes in the room. Dongzi and Wang Xiaohe were stunned into silence. Zhou Huan quickly pressed, "What is your grievance? Don't leave!"

The people outside obviously couldn't hear. It was unknown whether the three people inside were all connected to this deceased woman, but one thing was certain: Old Song had escaped this calamity for now. He let out a long breath, the odor of which could incapacitate a crowd. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around.

Zhou Huan stood motionless for a long time before speaking to Wang Xiaohe, "Officer Xiaohe, take him to the hospital first. We'll leave today's matter as it is. Old Song should be fine for today. Later, I’ll go to your office with you, and we can discuss countermeasures thoroughly!"

Wang Xiaohe agreed. The paramedics took Old Song, activated the ambulance siren, and sped off toward the hospital.

As dusk settled, the group locked the funeral shop and got into Wang Xiaohe’s car, heading toward the precinct.

Too much had happened in the last few days: two people had died mysteriously, and Old Song was critically ill. Although Wang Xiaohe was a police officer, she wanted some respite. Driving, she didn’t return directly to the precinct but instead pulled the car over to a famous local seafood restaurant—Fatty’s Seafood!

"You must be hungry. My treat today, let's have a meal!" Wang Xiaohe took off her cap and unbuttoned her uniform jacket, getting out of the car wearing only her blouse.

Zhou Huan meticulously observed the perfect curves of Wang Xiaohe’s figure. He found himself developing a flicker of affection for this woman, not just from visual attraction, but because her overall character and demeanor captivated him.

"Brother, we're having meat! We've been begging for so long, and we’ve never eaten seafood at a restaurant! Hurry up and get out of the car!" Dongzi yanked open the car door and bolted out, running toward the restaurant before Wang Xiaohe or Zhou Huan could even move.

Seeing Zhou Huan staring at her, Wang Xiaohe smiled faintly. "You are an interesting person. Do you always look at girls like that?"

"No, you're the first. With my condition, who would I look at that wouldn't be scared away!" Zhou Huan spoke bluntly, but it was true; when he was begging, no one paid him any mind, no matter who he looked at.

Wang Xiaohe chuckled and walked ahead, with Zhou Huan following behind her. He watched the way she walked—utterly feminine, her high, rounded hips swaying slightly left and right, her slender waist showcasing a woman's gentle beauty. Yet, the way her legs and arms swung as she moved also displayed the bearing of a female officer.

Zhou Huan became engrossed, stopping in his tracks. His regard for Wang Xiaohe deepened another level. "Officer Xiaohe’s bearing is truly beautiful!"

"Stop the flattery, catch up! From now on, don't call me Officer anymore; just call me Xiaohe!" Wang Xiaohe turned back to tell Zhou Huan before entering the seafood restaurant.

The owner of the seafood restaurant was a very large man. Although the shop wasn't huge, it was quite famous locally. It was usually packed, and today was no exception; patrons were clinking glasses, talking, and laughing.

Wang Xiaohe was a regular there, often dining with colleagues, so Fatty the owner knew her well. Even if there were no seats available, he would always find a way to arrange a table for her.

"Brother, there are so many people here, does the food not cost money?" Dongzi, always talkative, was naturally curious about what he didn't understand.

Zhou Huan, usually reserved, revealed a genuine smile for the first time in a long while. "That means their business is good. If it were free, wouldn't beggars like us eat them out of business!"

Seeing Zhou Huan smile slightly more relaxed, Wang Xiaohe chimed in, "It’s rare to see your brother smile. Hurry up and sit down, I’ll order!"

The three sat down, and Fatty personally came over to serve them. Wang Xiaohe thoughtfully ordered several famous specialties from Andong for the two penniless men—miàntiáo yú (noodle fish), large river crabs, and jiāng pàngtóu yú (river fathead fish), among others.

Soon, several dishes were served. Wang Xiaohe picked up her chopsticks. "Come on, gentlemen, dig in!"

Dongzi had never seen such delicacies. His eyes were glued to the feast, completely missing Wang Xiaohe’s voice, his mind filled with awe, saliva dripping onto his chin.

"Eat quickly! Officer Xiaohe is treating us; we must savor it!" Zhou Huan said, picking up his own chopsticks and beginning to eat ravenously.

Hearing his brother speak, Dongzi realized there was no time to waste. The three ate with great enjoyment.

Wang Xiaohe was a woman after all; her appetite wasn't huge, and she soon ate her fill. She set down her chopsticks and watched the two men eat happily, feeling a sense of deep emotion herself.

"Xiaohe, you eat too! Don't let us eat while you just watch!" Zhou Huan finished his rice and called out to the owner, "Another bowl of rice, please!"

Shortly after, Fatty the owner served the rice and commented casually, "Officer Wang, your two colleagues must be starving. I haven't seen anyone eat like this in years!"

"Fatty Brother, you misunderstood. These two aren't my colleagues; they are from Old Song's Funeral Clothes shop."

Hearing Wang Xiaohe's words, Fatty just nodded subtly, turned to leave, and secretly glanced at Zhou Huan from the corner of his eye, muttering softly, "From the funeral shop, dealing with the dead all the time. Let’s just hope they don’t bring bad luck."