The shadows of several figures flickered around Old Man Sun's grave, moving up and down in bursts of sound—the crisp pichakala of shovels and the thud of picks. After a brief moment, a hushed voice carried through the air: "Hurry, hurry, it's coming out, it's coming out! Get the coffin ready!"

Immediately following, several figures appeared, wielding long poles, prying at the coffin lid with grating zhi-zhi-ga-ga sounds. Then someone else grumbled, "Damn it, who designed this coffin? It has a false bottom? Truly a son of a b*tch."

"Stop the nonsense and hurry up! Smash through that layer!" Kacha—the false layer broke, and a wisp of white smoke illuminated the pitch-black night.

"What the hell? Speed it up! The ghosts will be out any second now."

"Hey, I touched it! I got it!" Guangdang, guangdang! A cascade of metal striking metal followed. "It's too heavy! Someone help me!" After this chaotic flurry of activity, the figures vanished, and silence returned to the woods, broken only by a few crows landing on the disturbed earth beside the mound, cawing loudly.

Not long after, the sound of footsteps echoed again through the trees. This time the rhythm was less erratic, suggesting a single person. However, the sound of their running pace seemed disorderly, perhaps due to the deep darkness causing the walker to stumble, stepping unevenly, occasionally crashing into trees with a sudden rustle of leaves.

"Ouch!" "Thud!"

"Ugh!" a muffled voice cursed, "Who dug this pit!"

"Hm?" The newcomer hesitated. He fumbled in his pocket and pulled something out. Pa—a light clicked on. It was the flashlight on his cell phone.

"Ah! This... this!" The man looked down and realized he was sitting inside the coffin. Beneath his feet was the urn holding Old Man Sun’s photograph, alongside the scattered, brittle remains of Old Master Sun.

Instantly, a cold sweat broke out over him. He quickly shut off the flashlight, panting heavily, his hands frantically scrabbling beneath his backside. He muttered continuously, "Damn it, you two old bastards. If you didn't want to die, why bother making trouble? I spent so much money burying you, and you let someone lift the lid! Sorry, just pretend I’m not your distant relative from Wufu Village. You were too rich, I know. I’m just borrowing your Golden Basin for a while. I’ll return it when I have money!"

The man kept feeling around: "I’ll be damned, there isn't a single basin!" His eyes widened, and mustering his courage, he switched the flashlight back on, aiming the beam at the ground beneath his feet. What met his gaze was the ancient urn and those dried, skeletal sticks.

"To hell with your mother! Who? Who got here before me!" He then aimed the flashlight beam at Old Man Sun's photograph. By now, the shock must have overwhelmed him, because his voice took on a surprising ferocity. "Uh!" He clicked a lighter, igniting a cigarette. "Old fellow, you’re finished. You were arrogant in life, and now your daughter is arrogant. You don't even have your basin, so what are you acting high and mighty for? Today, I’m scattering your ashes. Serves you right for not guarding your basin properly."

Speaking these words, the man, cigarette dangling from his lips, making his cigarette tip highly visible in the midnight gloom, picked up Old Man Sun's urn and yanked it violently. The lid of the urn came loose, and the white bones inside drifted slightly in the night breeze.

"Get lost! This prime spot of Feng Shui isn't for you!" The man emptied the entire contents of the urn, scattering the ashes widely. "Ptooey!" He then spat directly onto the ashes. Following this, the man unzipped his pants and emptied his bladder over the disturbed dust.

"Hahahaha, I call it quits, truly depressing." As he pulled up his trousers, he tossed his cigarette butt onto the spot where the ashes were strewn. Then, he bent down, picked up the empty urn, shining his flashlight on it, and tore off Old Man Sun's photograph. "Is it easy to make me run out here this late? Dying and still buying such an expensive urn! If I can't get the Golden Basin, I’ll sell your urn. How else am I supposed to scrape up money for food and drink!"

The man casually opened the empty urn again, intending to snap the lid shut.

Kacha!

"Ah!"

"That hurts like hell!" The man shrieked, scrambling and crawling down the hill, disappearing into the deep night in moments. Beside Old Man Sun's grave remained only the faint glow of a discarded cigarette tip and the tightly snapped-shut urn on the ground, stained with a patch of vivid red.

The next morning, Xiang Jiao brought people up to repair the stone enclosure around Old Man Sun's grave. The few workers were stunned when they reached the site and immediately called Xiang Jiao. Xiang Jiao was momentarily paralyzed, unable to think clearly. Finally, Mr. Old Wang helped locate Zhou Huan, who rushed his car to the cemetery. Upon seeing the scene, he simply shook his head softly.

"Master, what happened? We fixed everything perfectly yesterday," asked Li Tianxiong, seeing the tragic sight.

Zhou Huan’s expression was grave. He looked down at the scene. "Dongzi, Tianxiong, find Xiang Jiao for me. If anyone tries to stop you, take them down right there!"

"Don't worry, Brother. If anyone dares move, Dongzi will definitely knock them out!" With that, Dongzi spun around and ran toward Xiang Jiao's car.

Xiang Jiao was sobbing uncontrollably in the car. She was already not conventionally beautiful, and crying made her look no different from those lonely, wandering ghosts.

"Big Sister, our Master wants you to come up. It seems urgent. Please, just come up with us for a moment!" Dongzi spoke with newfound confidence.

Xiang Jiao had long since lost control of her reason; she simply agreed to whatever they said and followed Dongzi and Li Tianxiong up the mountain.

When Zhou Huan saw Xiang Jiao approach, he shouted loudly, "Stop crying!"

The shout was deafening. Zhou Huan had put all his breath into it. After the shout, Xiang Jiao froze, blinking rapidly.

"Look for yourself what state people have left your father’s and great-grandfather’s graves in!" Zhou Huan berated her angrily.

Xiang Jiao looked at the devastation, and suddenly she snapped back to reality. Her expression shifted instantly, turning into an angry confrontation directed at Zhou Huan: "Why are you questioning me? I haven't even asked you yet! Didn't you claim to be a Master? How could you choose a grave site like this? Tell me, did you deliberately pick this location for us?"

"Hahahaha, I, Zhou Huan, never hide anything about my work. It's just a matter of knowing when to speak and when not to speak." Zhou Huan glared at Xiang Jiao, fixing her with a uniquely masculine, dominating gaze that made her instinctively take several steps back.

Zhou Huan murmured softly, "Don't pretend you don't know your family's history. This retribution is mild. Otherwise, you wouldn't be standing here talking to me; you'd be lying down below."

"Ah? Then I understand. I won't pursue the matter with you!" Xiang Jiao was truly shaken by Zhou Huan's presence. She finally sat down on a nearby mound of earth, staring blankly at the horror within the open graves.

A short while later, the thin, gaunt man climbed slowly back up the hill, hunched over, carrying a bottle of water, ready to take Xiang Jiao away.

Zhou Huan stopped Xiang Jiao. "Why does this man never speak? Who is he?"

"He is my husband; his name is Li Guang!" Xiang Jiao replied. Li Guang chimed in with a simple, "Hey, hey!" His two words sounded incredibly earnest, inspiring a sense of trust.

Zhou Huan looked at the man but thought nothing further of it. He then told Xiang Jiao, "Have your people secure the scene. I’ll call the police station shortly; this may involve a criminal case."

"Yes, yes!" came that trustworthy and simple voice again.

"Brother, shall we go?" Dongzi stepped forward to ask Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan replied unhurriedly, "What’s the rush? You’ll leave with Sister Xiao He later. I still have things to do at home tonight!"

Before long, Sun family bodyguards encircled the entire burial site. Zhou Huan and his disciples got into the car. Zhou Huan was lost in thought, contemplating the supernatural as well as the human element, given the particularly complicated and troublesome nature of the Sun family affairs.

Shi Bingyuan, meanwhile, was consumed with the question of whether his grave selection had been flawed. Yet, no matter how much he thought, he could find no mistake; at least, within his own level of expertise, there was none. Furthermore, this was the first time in all his years that Shi Bingyuan had encountered something so bizarre.

Dongzi smoked incessantly in the car, constantly observing the events outside, keeping a close eye on the Sun family bodyguards to ensure they didn't overstep their bounds. If they did, he would not hesitate to jump out and fight.

Li Tianxiong pondered the situation, unable to make sense of it. He tentatively asked Zhou Huan, "Master, what exactly is going on? Do you think this was the work of ghosts or of men?"

"Both men and ghosts," Zhou Huan answered succinctly.

This answer threw Li Tianxiong, Shi Bingyuan, and Hong Kun into utter confusion. Hong Kun pressed, "Master, if you say it was men, then it's man-made, and we can handle ghosts. How can it be both men and ghosts?"

Hearing Hong Kun’s question, Zhou Huan was silent for a moment, then burst into hearty laughter. "There’s nothing to be done about it; it’s all cause and effect from past lives. This matter is for us to handle. Old Man Sun never did a single good thing in his life—that is the cause, and this is the effect. Perhaps the consequence he receives will be greater than I imagine, but we will get to the bottom of this. Never mind it for now; when the police arrive with Xiao He, they can collect the evidence, and we can discuss it later."

No sooner had Zhou Huan finished speaking than several police cars arrived. The first person out was Xiao He. Zhou Huan stepped out to meet her, explaining the situation. Xiao He then led her team to the gravesite.

"Begin evidence collection. Don't miss a single trace," Xiao He commanded with imposing authority. She was truly an elite officer; in fact, upon her return, she had already been appointed Director of the local police station, overseeing paranormal incidents for the city bureau.

As the team collected evidence, a police officer approached Xiao He. "Sister Wang, we have one urn left. We’ve taken samples of the bloodstains, but the box hasn't been opened."

Even as he spoke, Zhou Huan helped open the urn. As everyone peered inside the urn, gasps of shock escaped them, and some people actually fainted.