Zhou Huan’s attention was deeply captivated by that maternal affection, but the expression in that fleeting moment was swiftly consumed and dismantled by him. The person looking over quickly turned away, got into the seafood truck, and followed the others toward the market.

“Dongzi, starting tonight, we’ll take turns standing guard here to watch Old Zhao. If anything unusual happens, we can deal with it directly.”

Dongzi listened to Zhou Huan, utterly perplexed. “Brother, how did this get looped into our duties again? Old Zhao is just a little sick, right? It shouldn’t require us to put in so much effort to watch him.” As Dongzi spoke, he scratched his papaya-like head, his wide, small eyes blinking rapidly.

“I told you to come, so come. Where are all these questions coming from? Or I can give you a chance for intensive training—you can watch him yourself every day.” Zhou Huan deliberately tried to scare Dongzi.

But what Zhou Huan never expected was that Dongzi actually took his words seriously. What he expected even less was that Dongzi would proactively volunteer this time: “I’ll do it, I’ll do it! What’s the big deal? Don’t worry, I’ll go cook tonight, and I’ll be here right after dinner.”

Zhou Huan looked at Dongzi with a somewhat astonished gaze, then managed to say, “Oh, okay. Well, I’ll see how you handle this matter.”

“Hahaha! Once Dongzi makes a move, there’s nothing that can’t be settled. I certainly can’t let big brother always worry about me.” Dongzi burst out with a string of boastful declarations. And truth be told, perhaps it was precisely because Dongzi felt a sense of happiness that he exhibited even a sliver of responsibility. This was only possible with Zhou Huan; anyone else might not be able to manage him, and it was quite possible Dongzi would turn hostile.

Xiao Yan’er arrived at Fushou Hall for the first time. Upon entering the room, she was truly struck with terror by the dazzling array of funeral supplies. Her body seemed to tremble slightly, her two small eyes blinking as she looked around with a mind full of curiosity.

Zhou Huan’s disciples had returned long ago. Xiao He was also upstairs reading. Since she was pregnant, Zhou Huan had moved the computer to the main hall. Now, Tianxiong vied with Hong Kun for the computer every day upon returning. Of course, Dongzi definitely couldn’t get a look-in, as he couldn’t stand the harsh radiation from the screen. He would view the computer as if it were an enemy, and if anyone aimed the screen at him, he would definitely snap at them.

“Oh my, who is this little beauty? Come here, let Uncle hold you!” Shi Bingyuan was also very fond of children. Upon seeing Xiao Yan’er, he enthusiastically rushed up to her, picked her up with both hands, and proceeded to kiss and fondle her.

“Master, whose child is this? She’s so adorable!” Hong Kun sidled up to Xiao Yan’er and playfully engaged with her.

Zhou Huan smiled and said, “She’s the child of Old Zhao from the market.” As Zhou Huan spoke, he walked toward the kitchen to help Dongzi carry things to prepare the meal.

Tianxiong put down the computer and followed Zhou Huan into the kitchen. “Master, why did you bring her back? Where is her father?”

“Hmm, we’ll talk about that in a moment. First, let Dongzi get the food ready. After we eat, I’ll assign you tasks,” Zhou Huan said, tossing the two large crucian carp gifted to them into the sink. He then washed them clean and took charge of the cooking himself. Soon, he had prepared a pot of crucian carp, red date, and tofu soup.

“Brother, your cooking skills are too swift! You’ve opened my eyes. Is this pot of soup for…”

“Dongzi, can’t you see that Master is making this for Sister Xiao He?” Li Tianxiong said, though his gaze had already drifted to Xiao Yan’er. He sensed that beneath Xiao Yan’er’s innocence lay something of a profound history, or perhaps an inexpressible sense of oppression.

Zhou Huan handed the ladled soup to Tianxiong. “Help carry this upstairs and call Xiao He down for dinner. We need to watch this child carefully; her life has been quite bitter.”

Tianxiong started to voice his own observations, but Zhou Huan cut him off, preventing him from continuing. He only told him to take the soup to the table. Afterward, Dongzi finished preparing the other few dishes, and everyone sat down to eat. Seeing the table laden with delicious food, especially the crucian carp and red date soup personally made by Zhou Huan, Xiao He felt an unparalleled joy, as if she had consumed the finest delicacies of the heavens and the earth.

However, Xiao He’s first action was not to eat herself, but to first ladle a bowl of soup for Xiao Yan’er, and then one for Zhou Huan. She divided this full bowl of soup into several portions, one for everyone, and finally, she softly said to Zhou Huan with deep emotion, “Thank you, Brother Huan!”

Zhou Huan felt a surge of overwhelming affection, but in front of everyone, he could only nod in acknowledgment and begin eating. The dinner for seven was truly quite cozy. With several uncles keeping Xiao Yan’er company and a considerate aunt looking after her, for a moment, Xiao Yan’er seemed to experience the truest form of affection in the human world, along with a profound meaning she had never seen or heard of before.

After dinner, Dongzi cleared the table and voluntarily put himself forward to go to the hospital to look after Old Zhao. Zhou Huan agreed, and Dongzi took a ride alone.

Xiao Yan’er was taken upstairs by Xiao He and coaxed to sleep.

“Disciples, it looks like we won’t be sleeping well for the next few days. Old Zhao’s illness does not seem to be a normal physiological ailment, nor is it psychological. Based on my judgment, he has likely been afflicted by an evil presence,” Zhou Huan stated the main point upfront.

The disciples exchanged glances, and then Tianxiong spoke first. “When I saw Xiao Yan’er just now, I felt she was different from an ordinary girl; she seemed like a child with deep reserves of knowledge. I don’t know if my feeling is right or wrong, but that was the direct impression she gave me. Moreover, behind that innocence and purity lies an inexplicable loneliness and sorrow.”

“Yes, I thought so too,” Shi Bingyuan analyzed what he had observed. “While eating, she appeared very happy, but every time she took a sip of the soup, she would glance at Xiao He. Every time she looked at Xiao He, her expression would instantly vanish, becoming utterly blank and filled with pain. But the moment we started talking to her again, she would start laughing.”

Hong Kun’s comment seemed to remind everyone: “I feel she’s just a living child. Perhaps she isn’t as complex as we imagine. Her behavior might reflect something else—her background, her origins, her life recently—it should be a simple matter.”

“Hmm, I considered that too. Here’s the plan: Tianxiong stays home to look after Xiao Yan’er. Bingyuan and Hong Kun will come with me to the market to investigate. And that shabby little house where they live—there must be something wrong there,” Zhou Huan concluded. Following his decision, everyone took their positions. Zhou Huan drove his car, and Shi Bingyuan and Hong Kun got in.

“Have the matters outside been mostly settled recently?” Upon getting into the car, Zhou Huan’s first question was about whether Fushou Hall had any other pending business. If so, he would definitely make special arrangements to handle those matters, because gaining people’s hearts depends on trust.

Shi Bingyuan became very serious and took a small notebook from his pocket. The notebook recorded the things he had been doing recently. “Master, we only have the funeral for a relative of the Fuyuan Trading Firm left to handle. Everything else is in the collection stage.”

“Have you confirmed the agreed time with them?”

“It’s set—the morning of the day after tomorrow. Their funeral should be easy to handle. I briefly looked into it; it’s just a routine procedure, nothing special,” Shi Bingyuan said. He flipped through his notebook again, landing on a page, and his expression suddenly tightened. “Huh? When did we take on this job?”

Zhou Huan noticed Shi Bingyuan’s strange expression and immediately asked, “What job?”

“This…” Shi Bingyuan looked a bit embarrassed, lowering his head to look at the notebook, then looked up at Zhou Huan and said, “It’s… Old Zhao from the market asked us for help.”

“En?” Zhou Huan reached out and took Shi Bingyuan’s notebook. He saw the entry: Vegetable market, Old Zhao. Hears inexplicable footsteps every night recently. The date was one week ago. After reading it, Zhou Huan tossed the notebook back to Shi Bingyuan, gripping the steering wheel with both hands, his mind racing. “How could we forget their business? Damn it, this time the matter might be difficult to handle. I’ll have Dongzi handle the funeral the day after tomorrow, and we will split up to deal with Old Zhao’s issue. But I have a feeling this kind of affliction isn't meant to take a life; something must want to find Old Zhao. In any case, we should try to resolve the problem quickly. A normal person’s body cannot endure too much torment.”

“Yes, understood. He probably felt something when Old Zhao first approached us. It’s all my fault for forgetting about the matter,” Shi Bingyuan kept blaming himself. Zhou Huan didn’t press him further. The car arrived at the market’s entrance parking lot. The three got out, each slinging their tool bags over their shoulders, preparing to walk into the market.

But when they reached the market entrance, it was already closed. Looking inside through the glass, it was pitch black; not a single figure was visible. Zhou Huan knocked a few times, but no one opened the door. Then, Hong Kun crouched down and shouted through a crack in the door, “Anyone there? Open up!”

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from behind Hong Kun. As he approached Hong Kun, a hand fiercely gripped his wrist.

Hong Kun started, leaping backward. “Who is it?”

Zhou Huan and Shi Bingyuan saw Hong Kun’s reaction. When they looked closely, they saw an old woman, perhaps over seventy, extending her withered hand, tightly clamping Hong Kun’s wrist. “Young man, stop shouting, I beg you! I don’t know what’s going on these past few days, but people keep coming here shouting, demanding the door be opened. I’m old, and my sleep is poor. Please, have mercy and don’t shout tonight, alright!” The old woman’s hoarse voice was somewhat unnerving.

Hong Kun broke free from the old woman’s grip and nodded frantically. “Oh, okay, I won’t shout anymore. Elderly one, please go back!”

“Hey!” Shi Bingyuan stepped forward. “Elderly one, don’t go yet. You said others have been coming here shouting recently…”

“Yes, every day! The market is closed, so what are they shouting for? Really!” The old woman grumbled incessantly.