"Hahaha, Zhou Huan, you're out of options! Your formation has failed. It's useless no matter how hard you try to capture me now. My soul has merged with Wang Qiang's brain. Today, I'll make him jump off this building!" Wang Qiang's body struggled, but he couldn't control Guo Hua's will taking over, inching step by step towards the edge of the roof.

Mr. Old Wang saw his son appear utterly stunned, as if struck senseless in an instant. He completely forgot about Zhou Huan's formation, rushing forward a few steps to grab Wang Qiang's legs with both hands. Wang Qiang took the opportunity to tumble forward in a face-plant.

When Mr. Old Wang saw Wang Qiang turn his head to look at him, the face was a sickly, swampy green, and the bloodshot eyes glared fiercely at him: "Dad, save me!" First, it was Wang Qiang's voice, then the expression shifted, and the smug look of the female ghost manifested on Wang Qiang’s face: "Old man, let me make this clear: your son must die today. If you interfere, then you two can go down with me!"

Zhou Huan’s mind raced. He pulled a stack of talismans from his pocket, bit his index finger until it bled, and in a flash faster than lightning, drew a Ghost-Restraining Talisman. Immediately following, he flung a handful of charms, showering Wang Qiang. Wang Qiang grimaced in pain, but the voice that emerged was that of the female ghost Guo Hua: "Zhou Huan, I'm telling you, no matter what tricks you use, I absolutely will not leave Wang Qiang's body."

Old Song lay on the ground, clutching his arm in agony, forcing back the pain. Panting, he spoke earnestly to Guo Hua: "Miss Guo, just stop. Our Ancestral Master has already shown you immense mercy. He could have simply set up the Seven-Star Moon-Shattering Formation and obliterated you. But he chose the Four-Star Formation instead. See? These three stars—Fu, Lu, Shou—guarantee you rebirth into a good family, and the Great White Star ensures you suffer less in the underworld. As long as you choose reincarnation, where is there to fear going? If you continue down this path, you are only destined for Hell!"

"Hmph! Old Song! I warned you, didn't I? Since I didn't kill you outright, don't provoke me again. Crippling your two arms is enough!" Wang Qiang easily shrugged off Mr. Old Wang’s grip and stood at the edge of the roof, saying: "Everyone present, listen up! Don't think I'm a fool. I've already given up on my soul, confronting the Buddhist icon on Wang Qiang's body—I never considered reincarnation!" As the words fell, the possessed Wang Qiang prepared to leap down.

Old Song shouted just then: "Girl, wait! Let me say one more thing. After I finish, I promise I won't stop you."

Zhou Huan also called out loudly: "Girl, don't jump yet, I have something to say!"

Zhou Huan and Old Song spoke almost simultaneously, as if sharing a telepathic connection. They glanced at each other and spoke almost in unison: "We have a way to let you return to the cycle of life and reincarnation!"

The female ghost, her resolve firm, turned back with a faint smile: "It's useless. None of you are good people. I won't trust you. Old Song, I'll let bygones be bygones with you; your hands are already ruined." With that, the ghost turned, dragging Wang Qiang's body over the railing, soaring toward the ground below.

At the same moment, Mr. Old Wang's hand was violently thrown off by Wang Qiang's burst of concentrated strength. Old Song glanced at Zhou Huan, then gathered all his strength and leaped in the direction Wang Qiang had fallen. Mid-air, he shouted to Zhou Huan: "Ancestor Master, don't let me leave the lineage! I willingly offer my soul after death to accompany Guo Hua into reincarnation!"

By the time Zhou Huan reached the edge of the roof, it was too late. He could only watch as Old Song and Wang Qiang plummeted: "Zixuan!" No matter how Zhou Huan called out, all that reached his ears was a dull, heavy thud of impact, followed by an instant of silence, then a sudden clamor.

Wang Xiaohe immediately snatched up the phone: "Xiao Li, handle the situation downstairs. Don't cause any more panic. I'll be right down!" Saying this, Xiaohe walked to the edge of the roof and patted Zhou Huan’s shoulder: "Brother Huan, stop staring. Let's go down and deal with the bodies!"

Zhou Huan's gaze remained fixed on Old Song's body below. He leaned stiffly against the railing, whispering softly: "Save Wang Qiang first!"

As Xiaohe turned to leave, she realized Mr. Old Wang was gone.

In fact, Mr. Old Wang had long since rushed downstairs. This was an eight-story old building, only equipped with an elevator later for the convenience of transporting patients. When Old Song and Wang Qiang jumped, Mr. Old Wang was already running downstairs, but the event unfolded too quickly for anyone present to notice.

Zhou Huan was the last to descend. He looked up at Wang Qiang dangling from the sixth-floor railing: "Xiaohe, get someone to bring him down. After all that, he’s probably not just simple-minded, but completely touched in the head!"

"Master Zhou, my son can't be simple-minded!" Mr. Old Wang was completely shaken by what he had witnessed; his usual soldierly composure was gone, replaced entirely by worry and unease for his son.

Zhou Huan didn't answer Mr. Old Wang directly. Instead, he looked at Old Song lying before him. Despite the ground being stained with his blood, Old Song's expression was one of deep satisfaction and happiness, a sense of release.

"Quickly, quickly!" A flurry of footsteps rushed past Zhou Huan. Several firefighters ran upstairs, presumably to rescue Wang Qiang. Directly beneath Wang Qiang's vertical position, the firefighters had prepared an inflatable cushion.

Dongzi saw that the tense atmosphere had passed and breathed a sigh of relief. Since he knew Old Song somewhat, his death didn't frighten him. Dongzi sidled up to Zhou Huan, his expression unusually serious, and asked: "Brother, how did that bastard not die from the fall? Damn lucky, huh? But why did Old Song go and do something so drastic?"

Zhou Huan turned and glared at Dongzi, then let out a long breath, looking up and murmuring to himself: "Old Song wanted to atone for his mistakes. I will not expel him from the lineage. As for Wang Qiang, he'll have enough trouble managing the rest of his life!"

Wang Xiaohe, holding a notebook, asked Zhou Huan: "Brother Huan, you had a clear view from the railing just now. Briefly summarize what happened as evidence for this case..."

"This case can be closed!" Zhou Huan looked at Xiaohe and offered a faint, false smile: "Xiaohe, you saw everything that happened before they jumped. Write that part yourself. But when they jumped, Old Song used the Soul-Dragging Method. That means one ghost who cannot reincarnate entangled with one who can—the resulting person will have a dual personality!"

"Then why was Wang Qiang hanging on the sixth-floor railing?" Xiaohe couldn't fully grasp Zhou Huan's meaning, but she understood that Old Song had used his own death to prove his sincerity—offering his soul to take Guo Hua into reincarnation. She simply couldn't comprehend Wang Qiang's current state.

Zhou Huan crouched down, carefully picking up Old Song's severed arm, and continued: "Old Song managed to move Guo Hua when he jumped. They spoke in the air. Though the time was brief, their conversation was clear..."

"Guo Hua asked Old Song why he was still jumping. Old Song explained: First, to prove his sincerity in saving Guo Hua; second, he was willing to use his own soul to take Guo Hua to reincarnation, provided she let Wang Qiang go, so that one less killing charge would be recorded against Guo Hua." Zhou Huan's tone was grave: "Cause and effect. I wonder how many lifetimes of tangled fate they have endured!"

"Sister Wang, Wang Qiang has been successfully rescued, but Mr. Old Wang is quite agitated and difficult to manage right now!" Xiao Li ran over to report to Xiaohe.

Zhou Huan instructed Dongzi: "Watch over Old Song's body. Once the forensics team takes their statements, let them move Old Song. Tomorrow, I will preside over the rites for them, including the female ghost Guo Hua."

"Brother Huan, let's go check on Mr. Old Wang!" Xiaohe took Zhou Huan's hand and headed toward the main hall. Several firefighters carried a stretcher; Mr. Old Wang's face was ashen. He followed the stretcher, watching Wang Qiang—bleeding from the head, showing no response, thankfully still breathing, proving he wasn't dead.

Zhou Huan approached Mr. Old Wang and grasped him firmly: "Mr. Old Wang, Old Song traded his life for Wang Qiang's. When falling, the female ghost hung Wang Qiang on the sixth-floor railing, and then followed Old Song down."

"Master Zhou, can you give me a definitive answer? Is he okay or not?" Mr. Old Wang seemed to have lost all reason, yet the only thing he knew was to ask Zhou Huan if Wang Qiang was alright.

"Wang Qiang will not die. However, his brain was held captive by the female ghost for so long, and we don't know if his head was injured during the fall. But one thing is certain: those possessed by vengeful spirits often suffer intellectual damage. Based on Wang Qiang's condition, I fear it's inevitable—he will likely become mentally disabled. I hope you can come to terms with this, Mr. Old Wang!" Zhou Huan spoke with seriousness and precision.

Mr. Old Wang seemed paralyzed by shock. He only had this one son; if anything happened to him, there would be no heir to his massive fortune.

As Zhou Huan and Xiaohe prepared to return to the precinct for detailed statements, Zhou Huan suddenly stopped and addressed Mr. Old Wang: "Mr. Wang, I respect you as a soldier. If you can dedicate much of your wealth to doing good deeds, making generous donations to monastic orders, and helping those in need, I believe Wang Qiang might have a chance to recover."

Even after Zhou Huan said this, Mr. Old Wang remained rooted to the spot. He stood there for a long time until everyone else had cleared the scene and Zhou Huan and Xiaohe had left. Only then did Mr. Old Wang go upstairs, waiting anxiously outside the emergency operating room at the hospital...

Zhou Huan and the others returned to the precinct and spent the entire night compiling the case records. Finally, the police officers, including Xiao Li, lay sprawled in the station’s conference room, some lying flat, others slumped over, all fast asleep from exhaustion.

The police station where Xiaohe worked was located in a residential area, fronting a quiet side road. Two rows of lush French plane trees lent a romantic air to the early morning as the sun rose. A gentle breeze rustled through the branches, causing the leaves to whisper against each other. A few small birds chirped and flitted among the twigs.

The sidewalk along the road bustled with people engaging in morning exercises—a lively but quiet scene.

A police car slowly drove into the precinct yard. Inside was none other than the station chief, who habitually arrived early. After getting out of the car, he entered the administrative building.

"Good morning, Chief!" The officer on night duty, sitting by the entrance, rose to greet him as the chief entered.

"Morning." The chief paused in front of the officer: "I heard last night they closed the case of the Red Clothes and Green Sleeves?"

"Yes, sir. They're still asleep in the conference room now, probably completely worn out!"

"Oh, alright. Have Xiaohe come to my office as soon as she wakes up; I have something to arrange!" After giving the instruction, the chief went upstairs and entered his own office.