The corpse's flesh began to rain down into the large basin, which was already overflowing with a mass of rotten flesh and decaying bone. The green sleeves dangling from the chandelier had coiled around everything except a single head, its mouth agape in a silent, agonizing death. Hanging beneath the skull was the remnant of a half-burned red coat. Suddenly, a murky green fire ignited, and the red coat in mid-air burned to dust. Finally, the flame crept up the green sleeves still entangled in the chandelier, reducing the fabric to ash. A whole, severed head dropped squarely into the center of the basin, and the gaping mouth snapped shut.

The eyes behind the spectacles widened, the pupils distended, but the expression gradually softened into one of repose, as if forgetting the preceding agony. Then, the eyes on the skull closed. Immediately after, cracks appeared on the face, splitting with a crisp snap down the midline, the halves separating and crumbling into fragments.

Those around, who had bravely gathered to observe the dismemberment process, now held their breath, utterly stunned into silence. The stout woman who had wisely retreated to the side finally recovered herself, only to see the sight and immediately collapse back onto the ground, hands clamped over her eyes. "Oh, heavens! What is that?" she shrieked in panic, while Mr. Wang’s forehead glistened with sweat; he was too paralyzed to speak.

At this moment, Zhou Huan raised his sword-finger and pointed sharply at the pile of shredded meat in the basin. The debris began to liquefy, slowly turning into blood, mixing with the cinnabar and yellow wine until the basin held a thick, vermilion paste.

Zhou Huan then slowly rose to his full height, extending both hands toward the basin, gently lifting it upward as if steadying a person.

Mr. Wang, closest to Zhou Huan, fought back his rising terror and managed to ask, his lips trembling violently, "Young Master, what are you... doing?"

Hearing Mr. Wang, Zhou Huan slowly retracted his hands, straightened his posture, turned around, and stated calmly, "If the Master wishes to know, then Zhou Huan will allow you a good look." With that, Zhou Huan scooped a small handful of glutinous rice husks from the circle he had just drawn with the rice, and scattered it toward Mr. Wang's face. "Sir, close your eyes, count to three, and then open them to look."

Mr. Wang followed the instruction, slowly closing his eyes, counting unevenly, "One, two, three!" He then gritted his teeth and forced his eyes open. When he looked toward the basin, his aged face turned deathly pale, the muscles in his cheeks twitching uncontrollably, and his lips chattering. The sweat streaming down his temples poured down like rain, pattering onto the floor.

"Chairman, are you alright!" a bodyguard rushed to Mr. Wang's side, asking out of professional duty.

Mr. Wang was beyond speech; he stared blankly at the events unfolding in the basin. Of course, what he saw—only Zhou Huan could see it—was hidden from everyone else.

Seeing Mr. Wang's expression, Zhou Huan smiled faintly before turning back toward the basin and speaking aloud, "Brother Glasses, what should I call you?"

What Mr. Wang had seen was a spectral image slowly rising from the cinnabar paste in the basin—the soul, or ghost, of the recently deceased young man with glasses. The spirit was riddled with holes, each slowly oozing black blood. Half the phantom's face was rotten, flesh scraps dangling; the left eyeball, still threaded with veins, hung precariously on his cheekbone, and his forehead bore a massive, ruptured blister filled with pus. When Zhou Huan addressed him, the specter's mouth slowly opened, and a long tongue lolled out with a wet slap.

The ghost spoke, his mouth opening and closing, visible to both Zhou Huan and Mr. Wang, the voice muffled and indistinct. After careful concentration, Zhou Huan understood the gibberish: My tongue is too long; I cannot speak clearly!

Zhou Huan smiled faintly. "That problem is easily solved. Just bite off your tongue, and you'll speak clearly!"

Remarkably, the specter complied. With a violent snap of his jaws, the long tongue slid free, severed as cleanly as if it were shaved hair.

"Master Zhou Huan, that feels much better, hehehe. So, that female officer was your girlfriend?" Even as a ghost, he retained his lecherous nature, killed by the Red Robe and Green Sleeves, yet still obsessed with Xiao He’s allure.

Zhou Huan's expression turned intensely serious, sternly rebuking, "You shameless ghost! Don't you know how you died?"

"I know you were a great Master in your past life, you know everything, but I only know women. Dying by a woman's hand, I accept it!" As he spoke, the specter gently rubbed the eyeball dangling from his cheekbone.

Hearing such brazenness, Zhou Huan let out a sharp shout: "Foolish ghost! You still don't realize your current state? Very well, I shall let you see!" He then turned directly to Mr. Wang’s subordinate: "Brother, find me a mirror!"

Mr. Wang’s bodyguard glanced at his boss, then at Zhou Huan. Mr. Wang waved his hand: "Go find one!" At this moment, the old master’s fear had subsided considerably, reassured that Zhou Huan had the situation under control. Though he could still see the grotesque appearance of the Four-Eyed Ghost, he managed to hold steady, watching Zhou Huan deal with the corpse victimized by the Red Robe and Green Sleeves.

"Master, the mirror!" The bodyguard, perhaps having run downstairs to buy one, returned with a small mirror with surprising speed.

Zhou Huan casually took the mirror, gripping it in his palm, and thrust it forward with palpable anger, positioning it directly in front of the specter. "Take a good look at yourself now! I don't believe you'd prefer this state and still not know why!"

The Four-Eyed Ghost affected an air of indifference, leaning close to the small glass. Instantly, his ghastly face erupted in fresh cracks. Its already repulsive state was now marred by fissures resembling earthquake damage, making it even more hideous. This simple ghost had believed himself still fair and youthful, but now he wailed in pain: "Master Zhou, what has happened to me?"

"Do you want to know?"

"Yes! I don't want to look like this! Please, save me!" The ghost pleaded desperately, quickly kneeling before Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan knew that the newly departed possessed a sixth sense, able to perceive past and present lives, yet they were perpetually ignorant of their own plight, and universally greedy. With a little maneuvering, most ghosts could be manipulated. Zhou Huan crouched down, settling into a cross-legged lotus position, and said, "Very well. You will answer everything I ask truthfully. I cannot promise to restore your appearance, but I will burn all these gold ingots and paper money for you!" He gestured to the piles of spirit money beside him.

"Yes, yes, that's wonderful!" The ghost immediately forgot its agonized expression and its thoughts of beauty, focused only on the money. Truly, money makes the ghost push the millstone.

Zhou Huan formed the lotus mudra with his hands—thumbs, middle fingers, and ring fingers touching inward, index and pinky fingers extended outward—and chanted, "Let the newly departed spirit sit down first!"

The Four-Eyed Ghost settled steadily into the cinnabar basin, its eyes darting frequently toward the paper money beside Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan noticed the ghost’s preoccupation and smiled faintly. "I have cast the Drunken Cinnabar Array upon you. If you try to escape, your three hun and seven po will be eternally trapped in this basin. So, you must answer my questions honestly, and I will release your curse!" Zhou Huan slightly closed his eyes and spoke, "First, what is your name, and why did you come here today?"

"My name is Chen Xiao Tao. I came here today to find Wang Qiang; I needed him to help me rough someone up!"

"What was your relationship with Wang Qiang when you were alive?"

"He was my boss; his boss’s older sister was my patron, so we saw each other often!"

"Then, do you know a woman named Guo Hua?" Zhou Huan asked pointedly.

Upon hearing this question, Chen Xiao Tao's ghostly face cycled through colors, though the base tone remained greenish-black. With his half-tongue, he stammered, "That... that's hard for me to say!"

"What are you afraid of? Do you not want this money? Don't you want to know how you died?"

"I'm afraid Wang Qiang will dig up my grave!"

Zhou Huan couldn't help but laugh. "You truly deserve the title of foolish ghost. You are a ghost now, and he is a cripple. Why fear him? Besides, your physical bones are gone; what need have you for a grave?"

Chen Xiao Tao rubbed his pus-filled head and muttered as if thinking aloud, "That's true! Then I'll tell you!"

At this, Mr. Wang leaned in, ears pricked, as the subject now concerned his precious son.

"Guo Hua, I know her. She was my boss's girlfriend. Wasn't there talk of marriage recently? But for some reason, one day my boss flew into a terrible rage, tore up every picture containing Guo Hua, and stabbed them repeatedly with a pin."

"Do you know why?" Zhou Huan pressed intensely.

Chen Xiao Tao instinctively wiped his nose—now a mass of rot—as if it were still wearing glasses, then said, "I don't know about that. We never dared question our boss too much about his affairs, or he would beat us!"

"You don't know?" Zhou Huan’s expression suddenly turned furious, and he roared, "If you don't know, why were you killed by the Red Robe and Green Sleeves? I'll tell you, the Red Robe and Green Sleeves is Guo Hua! She wouldn't harm someone without reason!"

Xiao Tao’s ghostly face went blank, turning truly ashen. "I... I honestly don't know! How would I dare cross my boss's woman?"

"Fine, then tell me if you helped Wang Qiang do anything illicit?" Zhou Huan asked penetratingly, not wanting to waste time on this ghost devoid of any virtue. Zhou Huan then shook the pile of paper money and ingots beside him, and from his pocket, he pulled out a talisman. "I can draw a Soul-Breaking Talisman right now, ensuring your soul never finds peace. Destroying your spectral body would be executing heavenly justice!"

It turned out these two moves were highly effective. Combining threats and enticement, Zhou Huan forced the truth from the ghost: "Ah, I just like women. One night, my boss called, saying he wanted me to accompany him to a KTV on Xinjia Road; he knew the place well and asked me to find him some high-quality hostesses. Who knew, halfway through our fun, his girlfriend Guo Hua burst in angrily. My boss then told me to send her away, but when she wouldn't listen, he rushed out and beat Guo Hua severely."

"And then? Did they say anything?"

"My boss was shouting, calling her a despicable wretch who runs around with other men. We all knew Guo Hua used to work the nightlife before she met my boss, and he supported her since then. Though she still had contact with men outside, I never heard of her cheating on him. But I don't know why he accused her like that this last time."

"Keep talking!" Wang Xiao He’s voice suddenly sounded near Zhou Huan, much to his surprise. "You? How can you hear what he's saying? Can you see him too?"

Wang Xiao He’s mouth curved slightly, and she said proudly, "Old Song taught me how to see the form of ghosts, so I can do it!"

"Oh, alright, Four-Eyes—er, Chen Xiao Tao—continue," Zhou Huan instructed, and Xiao He began furiously taking notes beside him.