Big Radish was naturally overjoyed by Zhou Huan’s words, showing a gentle side to him: “Big Brother, rest assured, as long as my Dongzi is well, then I am well!”

“Heh heh, very good. You two carry on watching the moon. I need to head up and get some rest. If you need anything later, just tell Big Brother.” Zhou Huan turned to leave.

Dongzi stood up to see him off, but Zhou Huan pushed him back: “Go on back. Keep your wife company and get some good rest when you’re tired.”

“Ay!” Dongzi gave that simple, honest reply, and Big Radish embraced him, filled with emotion.

“I truly didn’t choose the wrong person; following you, I will be content for this lifetime. From now on, we’ll watch the moon every night before sleeping.” Big Radish genuinely loved sitting like this, gazing at the moon overhead. It was much like the feeling of sitting in the large courtyard in the countryside at night, looking up at the countless stars.

Of course, Dongzi had to agree with Big Radish, because he too found the atmosphere very meaningful and evocative.

To be honest, most of Dongzi’s verses were prompted by Zhou Huan. After reading and seeing so much, he naturally became capable of stringing together his own clumsy lines.

The night passed uneventfully. Zhou Huan shared a room with Xiao He, and the Fushou Hall bustled with its usual liveliness. One could hardly tell it was a place specializing in funerals and ghostly matters, because the vitality was so strong. Most people who came here, even upon seeing items related to the deceased, wouldn't feel overwhelmingly grim or terrified.

The next day, hearing that Zhou Huan had returned, neighbors came to pay their respects. Zhou Huan enjoyed a leisurely morning at home, but before noon, he was driven away by Mr. Lao Wang in his car. As it turned out, the destination was still Yang Xiaoling’s restaurant. Mr. Lao Wang had intended to meet Yang Xiaoling at the restaurant, but he hadn't expected Yang Xiaoling to already be with Zhou Huan. Upon seeing the intimate look shared between Zhou Huan and Yang Xiaoling, Mr. Lao Wang immediately understood the situation.

Mr. Lao Wang leaned close to Zhou Huan’s ear: “Ah, you two…”

Zhou Huan said nothing, just nodded: “That’s the case. Why don’t we look at what to order? Let’s have a proper meal today; we haven't had a chance to meet properly recently, and when we do, there's never proper time to sit down and eat.”

“That would be best, haha! It’s rare for me to have time to unwind like this. Since you happen to be off work, let’s eat and drink well.”

Before long, the dishes for Zhou Huan and Mr. Lao Wang were served. The three of them—including Yang Xiaoling—began to eat.

“Master Zhou, it seems your fame is growing exponentially. I estimate you’ve become a legend in the entire funeral service world by now. It will be hard for anyone to challenge you or surpass you.”

Zhou Huan’s brow tightened slightly: “You can’t say that. What legend am I? I just write talismans and exchange polite words; it’s nothing worth mentioning.”

“Master Zhou, look at you, always so modest. If it weren't for you, my foolish son might well have died. At the very least, he could give me a healthy grandson now.” Mr. Lao Wang continued: “Yes, we had him checked at the hospital. Wang Qiang’s mental issues won't affect his fertility. That way, we can find him a woman to marry and have a child, and I can finally be a grandfather.”

“Oh?” Zhou Huan pondered for a moment: “Well, that’s true. Your young master only had the soul inside his head killed; the remaining soul can certainly produce a healthy child. However, Mr. Wang, don't blame me for being blunt, but given Wang Qiang’s current condition, where are you going to find a woman to bear him a child?”

“Don’t worry, I can find one. Even in Xiong, I can spend some money to hire a surrogate mother, or if necessary, synthesize one.” This Mr. Lao Wang was quite modern; he accepted these advanced concepts.

After Zhou Huan neutralized the influence of Old Sun's family, Mr. Lao Wang's influence became second to none in the entire Andong City. As Zhou Huan’s business expanded, taking on increasingly demanding jobs, his income also became quite substantial, bringing him close to the top ten wealthiest figures in Andong City.

“Mr. Lao Wang, I, Zhou Huan, have benefited greatly from your assistance. I have plenty of money now, but I don’t really want that much. If I donate it, I don’t know who to give it to. I truly don't trust those poverty alleviation officials now; I’m afraid if I donate the money, it won't reach the hands of those who truly need it.” Zhou Huan had been drinking, glanced at his watch—he and Mr. Lao Wang had been drinking for nearly three hours—and finally revealed the truth and his worries.

“Brother, I feel the same way. I truly have no more use for my money. Finding a good home for my son, finding someone to care for him until he dies, would satisfy me. The rest of the money, let’s donate it. But who to donate to? The Red Cross had issues too. Who can we trust?” As he spoke, Mr. Lao Wang laughed heartily, raising his wine glass: “Master Zhou, we are like brothers, cheers!”

Zhou Huan also raised his glass. The two clinked, then tilted their cups back, draining the wine in one go.

Afterward, they glanced at the food remaining on the table and suddenly felt as if they had eaten enough. They prepared to move to a different location to continue eating.

Just then, outside the private room door, Yang Xiaoling was speaking to someone: “Sister Xiao He, you’re here. Brother Huan is inside eating with Mr. Lao Wang. Shall we stay and keep them company for a while longer?”

“Forget eating. Ask your kitchen staff to prepare some sobering soup. I have something urgent to discuss with Brother Huan.” Xiao He spoke urgently, holding a piece of stiff paper in her hand as she entered the private room.

A short while later, Yang Xiaoling brought in a pot of hot sobering tea. As she entered the room, she immediately moved to pour it for Mr. Lao Wang and Zhou Huan, but Mr. Lao Wang stopped her with a gesture: “Hold it, stop. What’s in this pot? Don't tell me it’s soup; we haven't finished drinking yet.”

“Mr. Lao Wang, I am Xiao He. Please don’t drink this yet. I need to speak with my Zhou Huan about something urgent; this is absolutely necessary for him.” Wang Xiaohe held the stiff paper, which remained unopened.

By this time, Zhou Huan was slumped over the table. Yang Xiaoling nudged him awake, then forcibly poured the sobering tea she held down Mr. Lao Wang’s throat, and then poured some for Zhou Huan as well. Surprisingly, it worked well; within half an hour, both men were much clearer-headed.

Wang Xiaohe took Zhou Huan’s hand: “Are you awake?”

“Awake. Mr. Lao Wang and I haven’t seen each other in a long time, so it was hard to let this reunion pass without a drink. You must have something urgent from the Public Security Bureau for me. Tell me.”

Wang Xiaohe spread the stiff paper out on the table, and Yang Xiaoling gasped sharply. Mr. Lao Wang looked at it and felt as if he were drunk all over again; he turned and left the private room for the restroom.

Zhou Huan looked closely at the picture on the paper: “What era is this corpse from?”

In Wang Xiaohe's eyes, there was admiration and reverence, but mostly love: “Brother Huan is truly professional; you knew exactly what it was just by looking. Listen, experts have authenticated this body as a well-preserved female corpse from the Han Dynasty. Her hair is intact, and certain parts of her body are perfectly preserved. But look at how she appears in the photo—it seems like something is missing from her body.”

“The hand bones, right?” Zhou Huan answered directly.

“How did you know?” Xiao He knew Zhou Huan was first-rate at examining corpses, but from this picture, one couldn't even tell the body was missing its hands. How did he know? It was amazing.

Zhou Huan picked up the paper, pointed at it towards Xiao He, and said: “It’s clearly your handwriting. It’s written right there: ‘Missing Hand Case of the Han Dynasty Female Corpse.’ And you still ask me?”

“Oh, I wanted to ask Brother Huan to come see if this female corpse can be awakened, her spirit. If her hand is missing, only her spirit can find it, because this should be an act of tomb raiding. We found many strange footprints at the scene—ones we’ve never seen before, so…” Xiao He acted spoiled, shaking Zhou Huan playfully.

Zhou Huan turned and pulled Yang Xiaoling close, putting an arm around each woman, smiling.

“You are both my women; your matters are my matters. Never mind that you, Xiao He, are acting cute—even if you weren't, I’d go anyway. This is my responsibility.” After Zhou Huan spoke, he kissed each woman on the cheek. Finally, Zhou Huan took the photo, left the room, and pulled Mr. Lao Wang along: “Come out with me for some fun; I’ll take you to see some cultural relics.”

Mr. Lao Wang hurriedly waved his hands: “Forget it, you go yourself. I’m going home to sleep. That relic corpse—you’re the professional, you go! What use am I, an old man, tagging along?”