"Master, take the stage!" Hong Kun invited Zhou Huan, but Zhou Huan replied, "Let Bingyuan preside over the ritual today!" Zhou Huan then watched as his apprentices performed the soul-summoning for the deceased on the stage, while he sat aside, observing. In truth, his mind was consumed with one thought: how best to find the soul of that Islamic person he encountered on the way here. That soul seemed to bear no ill will; it must have had something extremely important to discuss with Zhou Huan, especially considering it was merely the lingering resentment from that soul's final moments.

As Zhou Huan's apprentices chanted their invocations, the souls of the two recently deceased painters were already three-tenths summoned, gradually beginning to coalesce. The night grew exceptionally desolate at this moment, yet the human presence became increasingly lively.

Dongzi followed Wang Xiaohe to the scene. It wasn't that they willfully disregarded Zhou Huan's instructions; firstly, Wang Xiaohe had official duties that required her attendance. Secondly, Dongzi simply couldn't bear staying alone guarding the two women back at Fushou Hall. Coupled with Wang Xiaohe's inability to fend off Dongzi’s persistent pestering, she allowed him to tag along.

Upon arrival, Dongzi saw his three senior brothers performing the soul summoning. He felt the urge to contribute heartily. He dramatically pulled out his bag, which contained talismans, a compass—Dongzi’s weapon—and a soul-luring shovel he had recently invented for his own use.

"Senior Brothers! Three-tenths of the soul is manifest! Behold my soul-luring shovel!" With that, Dongzi tossed the shovel toward the sky, rushed forward a few paces, leaped into the air to catch it, and then slammed his feet down hard, plunging the shovel into the earth, sending sparks flying.

This was perhaps the first time Dongzi had proactively addressed Shi Bingyuan and the others as "Senior Brothers." He had never addressed Master Zhou Huan as anything other than "brother" before. No one knew what scheme Dongzi was plotting this time, to suddenly address his seniors with such formal respect. Shi Bingyuan and the others were caught off guard, flattered beyond measure.

However, the sheer force of Dongzi’s exertion had a peculiar effect: the soul on the summoning platform, just as it was about to fully form, suddenly began to dissipate once more.

"Dongzi, what in the world are you doing? Don't tell me you brought us the title of 'Senior Brother' just to cause trouble! Stop it now; we are about to recall those two souls." Hong Kun, serving as the main protector during the ritual on stage, naturally stepped forward to intervene upon seeing the disruption.

Dongzi narrowed his small eyes, spread his wide mouth, and flashed his teeth: "Senior Brothers, you don't need to worry about me. Just count down five numbers for me now!" Then Dongzi himself shouted, "Five... two, one!" Immediately following, two wisps of black smoke rose near Dongzi’s shovel, and the spectral images of the two painters drifted out, clearly defined. Of course, the people from Fushou Hall could see these spirits perfectly, while outsiders might think these individuals were acting strangely, just what were they up to?

Watching from below, Zhou Huan smiled with satisfaction. His disciples were all so dedicated, and each new method was more ingenious than the last. Previously, summoning souls required an entire ceremony; Dongzi’s single thrust of the shovel achieved the result in just ten counts, saving them considerable effort in essence.

As the souls of the two painters materialized, the apprentices jumped down from the summoning platform and gathered before the spirits. Shi Bingyuan greeted them with great deference: "We apologize for the intrusion. My junior brother called you out because we want to ascertain the cause of your deaths. At least, it seems your passing was not natural, and we summoned you for fear you might be wrongfully aggrieved. Please do not take offense!"

"Hooo!" The two painters exchanged a look, then bowed their ghostly heads and shook them, saying, "We truly prefer not to be disturbed by others. This time, it wasn't a wrongful death, and we truly cannot believe you can bring us peace. How about this: we'll give you a straightforward answer. We died of fright; nobody murdered us. It’s just that while we were in the tomb chamber, we suddenly felt chest tightness and thirst. When we looked up at the ceiling, the paintings and inscriptions were gone. What remained was heaps of venomous snakes, each with fangs long enough to pierce from the ceiling right down to our throats. That’s how we died."

One ghost explained, while the other sighed deeply, "Alas, it’s our poor mental fortitude. We collaborated for ten years, and every time, it was due to poor mental fortitude. Otherwise, none of us could have walked out of the studio standing up."

"Did you see anyone else, or any other unusual phenomena?" Tian Xiong asked.

As soon as Tian Xiong finished speaking, Dongzi cocked his shovel and asked, "Say, you two, do you feel wronged by your deaths?"

"Wronged! We died without knowing how, without knowing who killed us. At the time, it was as if we were possessed; our bodies were beyond control. We were foaming at the mouth, and yellow pus and blood flowed from every opening—eyes, mouth, everywhere! How could we not be wronged?" the two painters replied.

Zhou Huan slowly approached the two painters, offering a polite smile upon meeting them: "Do you have any unfulfilled wishes?"

"We do." Upon saying this, the mood of the two painters’ souls suddenly seemed to improve; the sense of grievance vanished. They looked at Zhou Huan and then courteously said, "You are the one who knows how to speak and how to handle matters. You know we have something on our minds. Our only current wish is to finish painting the murals in the tomb chamber..."

Zhou Huan immediately interrupted, "That's something we probably can't complete on your behalf. Tell us if there are any others. If we can fulfill them, we certainly will. If not, you may return to the Yellow Springs road and wait for the arrival of the Black and White Impermanence to escort you away!"

"Yes, yes! We still want to know how we died, and could that young man please remove the shovel? Having it stuck by our feet is hardly comfortable." The two melancholy painter ghosts stared directly at Dongzi as they spoke.

Zhou Huan replied very respectfully, "We will certainly help you fulfill both these wishes. Firstly, investigating this matter will take some time; it’s not something that can be resolved the moment I say so; it requires investigation. Secondly, your time is limited, so please return for now." With that, Zhou Huan nodded to Dongzi: "Dongzi, remove your shovel. Next time, aim more carefully when summoning souls, or you'll bring trouble upon yourself."

"Oh, I understand, Brother!" Dongzi wilted like a frost-bitten eggplant. He slowly withdrew his shovel, fiddling with it in his hand, looking utterly frustrated. In reality, he was perplexed: he had been researching meticulously; how could he have struck the foot of a ghost? He couldn't figure it out no matter how hard he tried.

The two painter ghosts drifted away. Shi Bingyuan and Tian Xiong rushed up to Zhou Huan, "Master, we didn't find out anything, why did you send them away?"

"Didn't we find something out? Didn't he say he saw the things on the ceiling turn into snakes?" Zhou Huan laughed, then turned to Dongzi: "Your shovel is very well invented. Next time, be mindful. Don't count to five; count to six, because six is the number with the strongest Yin energy. Also, step back a certain distance before striking. This way, your shovel can more accurately strike the soul's shoe, or their front, blocking their path."

Zhou Huan’s explanation felt like a timely rain moisturizing dry fields to Dongzi; he felt he had suddenly understood many things.

"Master, this shovel of his?" The other apprentices all assumed Zhou Huan had taught Dongzi how to make this shovel, so they pressed for details.

Zhou Huan replied, "You'll have to ask Dongzi about that. He invented this thing; I only just saw it moments ago, and he never mentioned it to me before." Afterward, Zhou Huan walked away, hands clasped behind his back, approaching Wang Xiaohe: "Quickly clean up the tomb chamber and restore it to its original state. Have the families claim the remains of the two painters for burial. Then, find me several historians, and historical texts on Andong—the more detailed the better. Finally, locate anything specifically discussing the history, legends, or surviving ancient diaries related to Andong. In short, find me everything connected to this place; I need to thoroughly investigate the trickery here and uncover the root and consequences of these events."

Wang Xiaohe relayed Zhou Huan's instructions, mobilizing archaeologists and police alike. Then Zhou Huan arranged for Wang Xiaohe, Dongzi, and the others to return to Fushou Hall, while he and Shi Bingyuan remained in the tomb chamber, tilting their heads up to gaze at the section of the ceiling adorned with Persian patterns, paintings, and inscriptions.

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