The woman approaching looked vaguely familiar, yet completely unknown; Zhou Huan truly couldn't place her.

Mr. Old Wang saw Zhou Huan’s expression and a slight smile touched his lips. "What is it, Master Zhou? Do you have that kind of hobby?"

Zhou Huan blinked, finally registering Mr. Old Wang's words, then offered a strained smile. "Old Sir, you jest. Zhou Huan wouldn't indulge in such pastimes. I only wonder who this woman is. She seems quite familiar, yet I feel I don't know her."

"Heh heh, you want to know her, do you? That’s how most refined gentlemen try to approach someone new. Come, come, I'll introduce you both." It seemed Mr. Old Wang truly wielded considerable influence; in this city, nothing was beyond his reach. With just a slight hesitation from Zhou Huan, Mr. Old Wang was ready to exert himself fully to make an introduction.

Mr. Old Wang grasped Zhou Huan's wrist and, brimming with excitement, stepped out of the room, heading toward the descending woman.

When Zhou Huan looked at the woman again, he realized she wasn't conventionally beautiful, but her overall aura possessed an intense magnetism—a searing gravitational pull that rooted onlookers, especially male ones, to the spot. Zhou Huan, being a man, felt an inexplicable draw, following Mr. Old Wang almost unconsciously, a subtle nervousness stirring within him.

Before the woman was even close, Mr. Old Wang called out, "Miss Yang, long time no see."

Miss Yang, having reached the first floor, saw Mr. Old Wang and broke into a smile, revealing two small canine teeth. Though such teeth might look unflattering on others, on Miss Yang they appeared utterly charming.

"Brother Old Wang, it truly has been ages! What brings you here...?" Her voice carried an overwhelming sweetness, cloyingly saccharine.

Zhou Huan shuddered involuntarily, feeling a strange numbness spread through him, rendering him momentarily speechless.

Mr. Old Wang spoke before Zhou Huan could, "This is the renowned Soul Master of our city, Zhou Huan, Master Zhou. I was just planning to introduce you two; you are all friends from now on." Turning back, Mr. Old Wang introduced, "Master Zhou, this is the boss here, Miss Yang Xiaoling."

"Hello!" Miss Yang extended her hand, intending to shake Zhou Huan's.

Zhou Huan stared at the outstretched hand for a long moment before regaining his composure. He let out a breath, extended his own hand, and the moment his fingers touched Miss Yang's, it was a sensation of delicate electricity. "Hello, Miss Yang. I truly wouldn't have guessed you owned this hotel."

"And you, Master Zhou, are just as surprising. Besides, this is a small establishment, just enough to keep body and soul together. Unlike you, you labor to save the ghosts and monsters of the world; your work is far grander, wouldn't you agree?" Miss Yang then withdrew her hand and laughed. "Heavens, my palm is sweating! Come, we have esteemed guests today. It looks like this meal is on me."

The two servers behind Miss Yang inquired, "Manager, should we prepare the upstairs room or..."

"Go to Master Zhou's room. We’ll settle in his space for a good, relaxed chat." Miss Yang spoke decisively, and the servers immediately hurried to tidy Zhou Huan’s room, carrying out the pastries that had been set out. As they neared Miss Yang, she stopped one abruptly. "Wait, we still have this cake? I thought we finished them all?"

"Master Zhou specifically ordered it; the kitchen made it fresh for him."

"Oh, you may go then!" Miss Yang turned back to Zhou Huan. "Master Zhou, you have a taste for these childish things?"

Hearing this, Zhou Huan snapped back to reality, feeling as if he had just yanked his leg free from Miss Yang's captivating gravity. He finally relaxed, his tone becoming rational. "Yes, I adore these things. But I must ask, who requested this specific item for the little girl?"

"Master Zhou cares about these details? You truly are benevolent. Those things were my instruction to the kitchen for the children." Miss Yang said it casually, even proudly, her expression a mesmerizing blend of serenity and overt desire.

Hearing that the pastry was meant for little Yan'er, Zhou Huan froze. Could the pair of shoes he'd seen be connected to this woman before him? Zhou Huan’s mind raced. He turned back to Miss Yang and asked, "Did you know this little girl was coming here?"

"Heh heh, it wasn't something I planned, really. Last month, I visited Mount Wutai and met an old monk. He saw me praying and gave me a slip of paper. He said if I could fulfill a few tasks written on it, blessings would find me without asking. At first, I thought he was some charlatan, but I never expected it to be true! The little girl arrived down to the very second he predicted. That old monk is truly remarkable." Miss Yang offered her explanation for ordering the treats for the child.

Hearing Mount Wutai, Zhou Huan knew that anyone who could calculate something so precise could only be his old acquaintance, the former master of Tianxiong. Zhou Huan smiled faintly; it seemed this too was a matter destined to unfold, all part of the grand design.

"Miss Yang, how about this: I’ll treat for the meal today. Have your chef prepare whatever you like; I’d like a good long talk with you." Once they were all seated in the private room, Miss Yang instructed the kitchen, and Zhou Huan began probing for news of his old friend. "Miss Yang, is there anything else the old monk told you? I believe you might need to help me with something."

"Master Zhou, don't joke. I don't know how I could help you, but the old monk did leave me three tasks. Preparing food for the child was the first. The other two, he forbade me from opening until the proper time, saying I must only look after opening them then." Miss Yang spoke earnestly. She then pulled two lockets from beneath her blouse; both could be opened, revealing small tubes inside, which she handed to Zhou Huan for inspection.

When Zhou Huan took the tubes, he saw each was sealed with a strip of paper bearing tiny script—apparently marking a specific time. There were two tubes, two times, and each seal explicitly warned, Do not open prematurely. Zhou Huan recognized those characters instantly, even if they had turned to ash, and a laugh escaped him.

"Master Zhou, why the laughter?" Both Miss Yang and Mr. Old Wang looked utterly bewildered.

Zhou Huan returned the small tubes to Miss Yang. "Those characters recognize me, so I was simply smiling back at them."

"Heh heh, Master Zhou is quite the joker. The script recognizes you? It seems you know the old monk who wrote this, yes?" Miss Yang was sharp; she couldn't miss the subtle shift in Zhou Huan's demeanor.

Zhou Huan admitted, "Yes, the old monk and I are old acquaintances. I truly wish I had time to see him. Since he instructed you to do this, you must follow his guidance. When the time comes, you will likely understand the true meaning behind his instructions. How about this: when the time comes to act on those tasks, if any of them involve that little girl, please give me a call. Here is my card."

"Understood. Don't worry about that. Since we are friends now, let's not dwell on such serious matters."

The group ate, drank, and conversed until the sky turned utterly dark. There were no stars, no moon; the evening was heavily overcast. After their meal, Zhou Huan, along with his two apprentices, packed a few things and headed to the hospital. En route, Zhou Huan deliberately sent Dongzi back to Fushou Hall to clean up, reasoning that someone needed to look after the place after they had been away for days.

He took Hong Kun to the hospital instead. Upon arrival, a whirlwind seemed to be whipping relentlessly at the hospital entrance. A white van, starkly visible under the dim streetlights in the pitch black night, especially its license plate—a silver marker reading "44444"—which seemed almost blinding when directly hit by the light.

"Master, looks like someone else has died," Hong Kun murmured to Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan pulled out a bundle of joss paper, sprinkling it as he walked. At the hospital entrance, he took out another handful of paper ingots, found a clear spot away from traffic, and lit them. He chanted, "Paper ingots sent for the departed, may your journey be smooth." He then instructed Hong Kun, "Light an incense stick. Since we saw this, let's see him off properly."

Hong Kun lit the paper, drew the symbolic gate of reception, and traced a large circle around it before following Zhou Huan upstairs.

In the elevator, the wailing of the deceased’s family members was particularly chilling in the darkness. Upon reaching the tenth floor, the mourners were all heading in the same direction as Zhou Huan. As he neared Xiao He’s ward, Zhou Huan’s heart started to race. He had never met any of Xiao He’s relatives, and now his mind conjured dreadful scenarios, for he loved Xiao He dearly.

He saw Shi Bingyuan, Xiao Yan’er, and Li Tianxiong standing silently by the door, as if waiting for something. Could it be...?

Zhou Huan’s steps unconsciously quickened. He noticed a huge silhouette behind Xiao Yan’er—a familiar shape, perhaps... Xiao He’s silhouette? The thought stopped him dead. He pushed past the mourners, rushing headlong into Xiao He’s room.

Inside the ward, two doctors stood by Xiao He’s bedside. Several family members wearing white mourning clothes followed the doctors, crying out, "Doctor, we truly don't know how to thank you enough! Thank you for saving the old man; otherwise, we would have been consumed by guilt."

"No thanks are necessary; it’s what we doctors should do. Furthermore, your elderly gentleman only choked. As long as the obstruction was removed promptly to clear his airway, he is fine. Remember, next time, don't make such a grand show. Look, you even called for a hearse." The doctor finished speaking, turned, and saw Zhou Huan. He immediately smiled and bowed. "Master Zhou, someone just stopped me outside to say thank you for burning the paper for them..."