With a nod of assent, Zhou Huan ushered Dongzi and Xiaoling into the morgue. Xiaoling was initially hesitant, but Zhou Huan gently pressed his hand against her back, giving her a slight push. Miraculously, her fear of the corpses vanished, and she followed Zhou Huan straight inside.

It seemed this guy, Suixi, had laid countless traps in the morgue. The moment Zhou Huan entered, two lone spirits rushed at him, wielding ghostly blades dripping with fly-infested maggots.

Zhou Huan scoffed at their feeble assault. "Dongzi, the Soul Sealing Talisman, the Ascension Seal—attack!" As soon as Zhou Huan spoke, Dongzi followed suit, and the two of them began a furious assault, knocking down every stray ghost and specter in the room. The remaining spirits who hadn't attacked immediately hid upon seeing Zhou Huan’s methods.

"You don't need to hide; if you stay in this room, I won't stop hitting you!" Dongzi, who used to beat people until they were done, was now doing the same to these spirits. Several lone spirits were so terrified they ended up stepping on Suixi's head. Dongzi was about to give chase.

Zhou Huan turned and pulled Dongzi back. "Stop chasing them. Guard the door for me. We don't have much time. When Suixi wakes up later, we'll hit him with a brick, and then we'll leave after I've finished my investigation."

"Relax, Brother. Go ahead," Dongzi replied, pulling out the chipped brick he kept in his pocket.

Zhou Huan took Xiaoling's hand. "Stay close to me. There are many dead here—four just in the photographs. Our task today is to rearrange their corpses into the exact order shown in the pictures, then summon their souls to create an illusion that takes them back to the past, so we can see exactly who took their photographs."

"You mean finding the photographer?" Xiaoling, having learned to analyze the situation, asked Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan's lips curled into a faint smile. "We'll see if we can reconstruct the scene today. Xiaoling, I need your help. In my bag, there's a large stack of spirit money. Light it one piece at a time to keep the mist around these people from dissipating. When I summon their souls later, the person who took the photo will naturally manifest through the swirling mist."

"En!"

Zhou Huan began with the Soul Summoning Seal, waving his hand to cast the Soul Summoning Talisman. After casting it, Zhou Huan started rearranging the dead bodies, placing them precisely according to the order he remembered from the photographs. It was said that Zhou Huan was a master, possessing an excellent memory. He had only glanced at the photos briefly, yet he recalled the positions of these dead people with perfect clarity. As he finished arranging them, the mist grew increasingly dense. Yang Xiaoling’s paper-burning spot was perfectly aligned with the four corpses.

"Xiaoling, don't burn the paper too fast. If it all burns up, we'll really be out of luck," Zhou Huan warned. Xiaoling slowed her pace, lowering one knee and bending her other leg forward as she squatted.

After all, this was a cold storage unit, and the air inside was becoming truly damp from the small fires. Zhou Huan had already smashed open the small windows at both ends of the morgue, but the cold air continued to pour in. Before long, Zhou Huan saw that the cold air around the bodies was sufficient. He changed his hand seals and invoked the "Heavenly Soldier Descends, Spear Pierces the Ghost Gate."

"Roar! Roar!" The four deceased suddenly flickered in and out of existence behind Zhou Huan. They looked exactly as they did when they died—covered in black blood, with all manner of wounds, including the one covered in shattered glass—a truly horrifying sight.

Zhou Huan was unaware that these figures were waiting right behind him until Xiaoling cried out in sudden terror, causing him to turn around.

"Oh, my heavens! What is wrong with you all? I set you in position, why are you standing behind me? Are you asking for a beating?" Zhou Huan casually pulled out his Celestial Silkworm Gloves from his pocket. Before he could even put them on, the ghosts vanished, reappearing exactly where Zhou Huan had placed them.

Although the four ghosts stood where instructed, the injured contours of their ghostly faces made them look uglier crying than smiling—truly unbearable to look at.

"Fine, smile your best now. Look like you did in the photographs; don't force it. I can tell your skeletons are all messed up; don't let your jaws or any other part fall off from smiling too hard." Zhou Huan finished speaking, feeling quite pleased. It was rare to see such obedient ghosts. Yang Xiaoling remained squatting on the floor, burning the paper in one steady motion.

"Xiaoling, you can burn more now. The person we want to see might appear soon," Zhou Huan said, staring intently at the mist filling the room. Suddenly, he felt an intense chill behind him. He spun around sharply, only to find the same ghosts had gathered behind him again.

"Bastards, what are you doing? Go back where you belong!" Zhou Huan snapped, grabbing his Celestial Silkworm Gloves and raising his hand to strike.

"Master Zhou, it wasn't easy for us to come here. Even Ox-Head and Horse-Face wouldn't let us pass. We spent a lot of money just to return here. Can you burn a little for us brothers too? Otherwise, it'll be hard to get back," the ghosts mumbled, their mouths dripping a sticky, dark red fluid—a mixture of blood and bile—as they stared at the paper Xiaoling was burning.

Hearing this, Zhou Huan straightened up. "That’s a small matter. Go back and stand where you belong. I will certainly take care of your return, and you won't be shortchanged. Go back and stand."

The ghosts, persuaded by Zhou Huan, returned to their original positions. Zhou Huan turned back to examine the mist Xiaoling had created, but when he did, he froze.

"Brother Huan, is this enough paper I've burned? Do we need to burn more?" Yang Xiaoling’s face was smudged with black ash, but her voice sounded slightly drawn out, and it was no longer Xiaoling's feminine tone.

Zhou Huan whirled around again to look at the ghosts, who were now directly facing Xiaoling. Her position was exactly where the photograph was taken. Zhou Huan shook his head, feeling a jolt of shock, realizing that the array he designed had inadvertently drawn his close companion into its circle. At that moment, Zhou Huan noticed Xiaoling’s eyes slowly beginning to close, as if she were falling asleep.

"No sleeping! Get up for me!" Before Zhou Huan finished speaking, his palm slapped down onto Xiaoling’s shoulder.

The sheer yin energy of a morgue was too much for an ordinary woman to withstand. Xiaoling's eyes snapped shut, completely refusing to open.

"Get up for me!" As he spoke, Zhou Huan quickly slipped on his Celestial Silkworm Gloves and delivered a hard slap across Xiaoling's face.

But strangely, there was no reaction on Xiao He's face. Her head merely tilted, and she stumbled to the side, then scrambled to her feet with a sudden jolt.

"Brother Huan, what happened? What just happened to me? I felt like someone was summoning me," Yang Xiaoling rose, patting her head and looking at Zhou Huan questioningly.

Zhou Huan swiftly drew a Manifestation Talisman and recited the "Longevity Master Incantation," which he had created himself: "Vicious, resentful souls, manifest quickly! Do not force Zhou Huan to use drastic measures!" He then ignited the talisman and mixed the paper ash with cinnabar and yellow wine, scattering the mixture over the spot where Yang Xiaoling had been squatting and burning the paper.

The paper Xiaoling had been burning was nearly consumed, sending wisps of smoke rising from the floor, black and swirling with specks of ash. Xiaoling quickly retreated behind Zhou Huan, clutching his arm with trembling hands. "Brother Huan, look at the ash pile—I think I see a shadow there. It keeps looking at me. What is going on?"

Seeing Xiaoling on the verge of tears, her eyes brimming with moisture, Zhou Huan gently stroked her head. "Don't be afraid. Count five backwards, and then look there again to see what it is."

The two stared at the spot where the paper had burned. Xiaoling counted aloud: "Five, four, three, two, one!"

"Hiss! Hiss!" The sound was reminiscent of the powder igniting in a firework fuse. When they looked again, a human shape manifested in the rising smoke.

"Ah!" Xiaoling hid completely behind Zhou Huan, daring not to look forward.

Zhou Huan fixed his gaze. The humanoid shape became clearer and clearer until finally, an old man holding a camera and leaning on a cane materialized. But at this moment, Zhou Huan was stunned, staring at the old ghost, unable to utter a word.