In the conference room, Zhou Huan slowly opened his eyes, bearing the exhaustion as if he had just survived a great battle. He stretched languidly, glancing left and right; the officers were still sound asleep. He slipped quietly out of the room, intending to get some fresh air outside. However, just as he reached the door, he bumped squarely into the Director who was heading toward his office.

“Good morning, Director!” Zhou Huan greeted him with impeccable politeness.

The Director offered a faint smile, shedding his usual stern demeanor. “Zhou Huan!” He paused, scrutinizing Zhou Huan from head to toe. “A Shoushi?” he inquired deliberately.

Zhou Huan responded with a mild, knowing smile. “Shoushi is merely the jargon of our trade, sir. All of us in this line of work use that term!”

“Ah, a profession, then.” The Director’s tone shifted. “I hear you took the lead in handling the Red Clothes and Green Sleeves case last night, employing methods specific to your profession. I wonder if you would be willing to explain your approach and the reasoning behind it to me?”

“I would certainly be willing, sir, if you are willing to listen!”

“Hahaha! Of course, I wish to hear it. I am keen to understand how your trade resolves supernatural incidents!” The Director extended a hand towards Zhou Huan. “Please, come to my office. I have a few details I need to clarify.”

“Very well!” Zhou Huan replied forthrightly, following the Director toward his office.

Once inside, the Director proactively poured Zhou Huan a glass of hot water and invited him to sit on the sofa, taking a seat to Zhou Huan’s left. He lit a cigarette, offering one to Zhou Huan as well, but Zhou Huan politely declined, stating he didn't smoke.

The Director cut straight to the chase. “I’ve gathered some information about yesterday’s events, but one thing confuses me. Why did Old Song die, while Wang Qiang only ended up dangling on the railing of the sixth floor?”

Zhou Huan pondered for a moment. He had initially considered using simple, easy-to-understand language, but upon reflection, decided the truth was the better course. He answered, “When the female ghost possessed Wang Qiang, she jumped off the building. Old Song jumped after her to try and placate the spirit. Ghosts, you see, are moved by emotion. When she saw Old Song leap for the sake of her reincarnation, she was touched. She let Wang Qiang go and deposited him safely on the railing of the sixth floor, which is why he survived.”

“You claim Wang Qiang was possessed. Do you have proof?”

“I saw it. Old Mr. Wang saw it, as did Lin Dongzi, Xiao He, and Old Mr. Wang’s two bodyguards. But the instant the female ghost pushed Wang Qiang away, she entered Old Song’s body and departed with him for reincarnation!” Zhou Huan picked up his water and downed it in one go; it was clear he was genuinely thirsty.

As the Director was absorbing Zhou Huan’s words, a knock sounded on the door. “Director, Wang Qiang’s family is here!”

“Send him in!” The Director and Old Mr. Wang were old comrades; the arrival of his former superior warranted genuine warmth. The Director opened the door and walked forward to greet Old Mr. Wang some distance away.

This time, Old Mr. Wang lacked his previous arrogance. His face was etched with distress, and faint traces of tears could be seen lingering in the corners of his eyes. As soon as he entered the office, he only gave the Director a cursory nod before rushing to Zhou Huan, grabbing his hand with agitation. “Master Zhou, my son, he…” He trailed off, seemingly unable to articulate the painful truth, betraying his deep-seated anguish.

The Director was a man of courtesy. Since his old superior had come straight to Zhou Huan, he knew there must be a request involved. “Old Chief, why seek out Master Zhou immediately this time? What happened last night, and what exactly happened to your son, Wang Qiang?”

“My son… he just woke up, but he doesn’t even recognize me. The doctor says he has amnesia and has gone mad. What… Master Zhou, what can be done about this?” As he spoke, Old Mr. Wang’s tears flowed again. This was his son; what father would not grieve?

“Old Mr. Wang, the female ghost inflicted severe damage on Wang Qiang’s brain. Keeping him alive was the best possible outcome this time.”

“Then, Master Zhou, can you think of a way to bring him back to his senses?” Old Mr. Wang pleaded desperately, clinging to what seemed like his last sliver of hope.

Zhou Huan didn't hesitate, blurting out, “To save this man, good deeds and almsgiving must be performed on his behalf!”

The Director, listening to their exchange, found it difficult to grasp the full implication. “What you two are discussing—is there any chance Wang Qiang will recover?”

Zhou Huan’s tone was grave. “I fear that is highly unlikely. Logically speaking, this is retribution for his past actions. Practically speaking, he brought this upon himself, and the female ghost, Guo Hua, already spared his life!”

“Then I’ll have no successor!” Old Mr. Wang spoke with a dull, vacant look.

Zhou Huan smiled at this. “Perhaps it is better if Wang Qiang doesn't inherit your business. Do more good deeds instead, accumulate some Yin De (merit in the underworld) for yourself. Help those who truly need it, and perhaps Wang Qiang will recover one day, allowing you both to enjoy the joys of father and son.”

Just as he finished speaking, the door to the Director's office was slowly pushed ajar, and Wang Xiaohe entered, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Director!” She paused upon seeing Old Mr. Wang. “Oh, Old Mr. Wang is here too. How is Wang Qiang?”

At this question, everyone, including the Director, froze. Zhou Huan stated quietly, “Mad.”

Old Mr. Wang tried to speak but stopped, standing stock-still, his mind seemingly blank of all thought.

The Director offered a faint smile. “Have some water.” He walked to the water cooler, filled a mug with hot water, and handed it to Old Mr. Wang. “Old Chief, drink this. There is always a way to resolve things; don't dwell on it too much. It seems we must follow Master Zhou’s advice.”

When the Director said this, Xiaohe was taken aback. How could a staunch Marxist compromise like this?

Old Mr. Wang considered it, and the distress on his face gradually smoothed into calm. He let out a long breath. “Alas, Master Zhou, I was overwrought just now. I understand what needs to be done. Now that Old Song is dead, I must do something, if only for his sake. I will purchase Old Song’s burial garment shop, renovate it, and turn it over to you to manage. Consider it my gift to you.”

Zhou Huan was genuinely surprised by this declaration, never expecting the old gentleman’s thinking to shift so rapidly.

The Director then approached Old Mr. Wang and patted his shoulder. “Old Chief, you two can discuss the specifics of how to proceed. I have a few things to discuss with Xiaohe here, if you don't mind…”

“Yes, we understand that!” Old Mr. Wang and Zhou Huan exchanged a look. The two then exited and headed downstairs. As they left, Zhou Huan and Xiaohe shared a smile—a silent, powerful exchange, rich with unspoken affection.

The Director saw the scene and understood its implication perfectly, but he only offered a soft smile.

Back in the Director’s office, Xiaohe recounted the events of the previous night once more, but the Director seemed to listen as if hearing a mere story, letting it wash over him. When Xiaohe attempted to present her own analysis, the Director stopped her. “Xiaohe, if you present supernatural incidents like this simply by word of mouth, do you think it will hold up? Furthermore, even if you manage to gather witnesses to testify simultaneously, we lack direct physical evidence. What about the medical examiner’s report? Have you thought through all of this?”

“Director, I have considered all that. If physical evidence is needed, we can collect all material evidence related to this series of cases. We can only clarify the entire timeline of the investigation, write it all down meticulously, and set aside the supernatural elements, detailing everything as purely human malice!” Xiaohe spoke with confidence, and her argument sounded quite reasonable.

However, the most surprising thing to Xiaohe at that moment was that the Director, instead of resuming his usual authoritative tone to issue orders, spoke in a completely different manner. “Xiaohe, you’ve worked with me for five or six years. You are the most outstanding officer in our precinct. I am retiring, so I have already submitted a proposal to the Bureau naming you as the next Director!”

This statement left Xiaohe completely bewildered, unsure whether to feel happy or simply overcome with emotion. Her eyes widened, and her thin lips tightened, rendering her speechless.

“Don’t be surprised. You achieved it, and only then did you have the opportunity to be considered. You must trust in your own capabilities.” The Director continued to encourage and praise Xiaohe.

Hearing this, Xiaohe snapped her feet together, raised her right hand high, and executed a crisp salute. “Yes, Director. Wang Xiaohe will certainly not disappoint the cultivation you have shown me. I will strive even harder to excel at everything I do!”

At this, the Director’s smile became profoundly benevolent, like an elder looking upon a child. “Xiaohe, here is the arrangement from the Bureau. This new intake includes over a dozen candidate officers, including those from our station. Therefore, the Municipal Bureau has decided to organize a systematic study and training session in Qingdao. I hope you can participate. The training period is one month, and I have exactly one month and one week until my retirement. What do you think?”

Xiaohe was thrilled by this news. She genuinely loved the structured, military-style training, as it offered a chance to exchange skills and knowledge with colleagues. A genuine smile broke across her face, sweet and bright. “Director, that’s wonderful! When do I depart?”

“There’s no rush. You can delegate your immediate duties to Group Three for now. You just wrapped up this bizarre case; go home and rest for a few days. Once the Bureau’s formal notice arrives, I’ll call for you. It should be within three to five days, not long.”

“Yes, sir!” Xiaohe’s heart was a kaleidoscope of emotions; her face was blooming with joy.

The Director maintained his calm, kind smile. “Good. I will handle the wrap-up work for this case. You go rest. Don’t you need to spend some quality time with Master Zhou? It wouldn’t be good to be apart for a whole month of training right away!”

This comment caused the blossoms on Xiaohe’s face to deepen to a delicate pink. Smiling, she turned, left the Director’s office, and headed toward her own.