Zhou Huan never imagined his actions would inadvertently harm his own apprentice, though thankfully, it hadn't caused a life-threatening situation.

“Master Zhou!” Just as Zhou Huan was consumed by anxiety, a hollow and stiff voice echoed from behind him, its sound strikingly desolate within the cold tomb chamber.

The voice sounded terribly familiar; Zhou Huan felt he had heard it before. When he turned around, the white headscarf wrapped around the Persian ghost he had seen earlier had turned a frightening shade of crimson. His eyes radiated a strange fury, a deep sorrow lurking beneath that anger.

“Master Zhou, have you found what I asked you to look for?” the Persian ghost inquired in its rigid tone.

Zhou Huan watched the Persian spirit’s form drift toward the withered vine. As it drew near, it extended one hand, and with a gesture that seemed malicious, tightly grasped the thickest strand of the vine. “Master Zhou, you are an intelligent man. I know your methods, and I know you can certainly help me find what I seek. Today, let’s make an exchange.”

Hearing this ignited a spark of anger in Zhou Huan. He had felt terror moments before, but this declaration gave him a sense of control; this spirit was nothing more than a ghost attempting to strong-arm him.

“Esteemed elder, tell me then, what kind of bargain do you propose with me?” Zhou Huan softened his expression as he asked the spirit.

As Zhou Huan’s face lost its terrifying cast, the spectral visage of the old Persian grew even angrier: “Zhou Huan, look closely! This withered vine I hold is currently the main artery of your beloved apprentice’s heart. If I were to squeeze down now and snap this vine, your apprentice’s life would be forfeit. I would only take him with me.”

The moment Zhou Huan saw the spirit grip the vine, he understood—it was merely using Shi Bingyuan as leverage to force a trade. So, Zhou Huan offered a faint smile. “You ghost are truly amusing. Seeing as you are Persian, I won’t quibble with formalities. Get to the point, stop with the theatrics—the red moon, the choking vines—haven't I been working on what you asked me to do earlier?”

“Very well, does that mean you agree to our exchange?”

“Of course. I sense you are in some kind of difficulty, otherwise you wouldn’t be proposing this transaction. Tell me first, what exactly do you require, and are you asking me to find the ring you hold on your hand?” This time, Zhou Huan stated his understanding of the situation directly.

The Persian spirit’s entire countenance settled into calmness when Zhou Huan spoke, losing all previous agitation. It slowly released its grip on the vine and bowed deeply to Zhou Huan. “Alas, Master Zhou, please do not blame me. My resentment, accumulated over a millennium, has yet to dissipate. I finally saw the tomb of the Liang family collapse, ready to reclaim my ring, but unexpectedly, this descendant of the Liang clan was more cunning, actually employing a Persian ghost-expelling curse here. If this mountain hadn't been destroyed, my resentment might have followed me even into reincarnation.”

“Oh?” Zhou Huan’s mind lit up. Hearing this, he had actually traced the tomb’s occupant back to the Liang family—it was indeed a matter concerning them. This Persian curse now seemed breakable. But suddenly, Zhou Huan vividly recalled that the Persian ghost he first saw couldn’t speak Chinese. How was it speaking so fluently now, and with a different voice? What was going on? Zhou Huan quietly closed his eyes, gently sensing the ethereal energy within the chamber.

Just as Zhou Huan suspected, following the Persian spirit was another soul—one that clearly felt timid and fearful. This was certainly no ordinary occurrence. Zhou Huan then spoke, “It seems the old gentleman is truly extraordinary, finding someone in the netherworld to act as his translator. Come out, ghost hiding behind the elder, or I shall use a talisman to summon you.”

“No, no, I’m coming out!” Zhou Huan’s threat proved effective, but when the person emerged, Zhou Huan froze instantly, utterly bewildered.

Stepping out from behind the Persian ghost was a figure with long, ancient hair. This person looked exactly like Long Sheng, and the voice, unchanged, sounded exactly like Long Sheng and that Long translator they had encountered.

“You… are surnamed Long?” Zhou Huan tested, addressing the spirit.

The spirit showed great surprise, extending a thumb toward Zhou Huan. “Master Zhou, your reputation is well-deserved! You even know my surname. I am surnamed Long, and I serve as this Persian merchant’s translator for the Central Plains.”

Zhou Huan was overjoyed. Unexpectedly, the appearance of these two key figures instantly illuminated a situation that had been completely without direction.

“Very well, from now on, you will translate properly for me, and let your Persian master speak his mind!” Zhou Huan was eager to learn about this tomb.

The crimson headband on the Persian spirit’s head had reverted to its original color at some point. He now wore a slight, pale-green smile. “Master Zhou, I will speak plainly. This Liang family were descendants of the imperial line of the Liang Kingdom from the late Tang Dynasty. I traveled thousands of miles from Persia. We maintained an excellent relationship, and because of this, I presented them with numerous golden tributes and various Persian murals, which earned me the right to do business in the Liang Kingdom. Later, a member of their family coveted our clan’s heirloom—the polychromatic gem ring you mentioned. That ring is priceless.”

As the Persian spirit spoke, a white mist suddenly rose from the form of the ghost translator. “Oh dear, Master Zhou, dawn is approaching! Let’s be brief!”

Zhou Huan turned to look outside the tomb chamber. Indeed, daybreak was imminent. The earlier crimson moonlight had vanished. He knew that if ghosts remained when the sun rose, even if their souls weren't scattered, their spiritual energy would suffer severe damage.

“Fine, be concise. I will help you find the ring, but you must give me more specific details. Let me be clear: I, Zhou Huan, never lie.” Zhou Huan was now serious and exceedingly proper.

The Persian ghost continued, “For the sake of this ring, and the Purple Vine Staff I hold—that withered vine just now—it was the treasure that protected our nation back then. I carried it as a symbol of our country, but unexpectedly, the Liang family murdered me for these two items. After my death, I sought revenge, but a period of chaos struck, and they perished as well. Thus, I had to seek their descendants. What infuriates me most is that their descendants moved to live right here, and I lacked the power to track them down and cause a ruckus. I only came here now by taking a 'ghostly day off' granted by Yama—one day in the underworld equals three days above ground. Can you imagine my urgency?”

“Ah, I see. Do you know the whereabouts of the ring now? Tell me, so I can help you search.”

“If I knew, I wouldn't be troubling you like this. All I know is that after the Liang family died, they placed the ring on the corpse of a lawfully wedded Liang wife—that very corpse you transported away some time ago. But what angers me most is that everyone had their eye on this ring. You know, even Yellow Cripple wanted it then, didn't he? And he died when his heart was pierced by that cursed hand, didn't he? I intended to come back for it earlier, but I was deterred by the curse here. It’s a blessing that the Japanese arsenal was blown up, causing this mountain to collapse, which gave me a chance to enter. But now that I’m in, what good is it? My Purple Vine Staff has become a withered vine, and the ring has vanished without a trace. What am I supposed to do?”

The Persian ghost seemed on the verge of tears. Suddenly, his body began emitting bursts of white energy. “Master Zhou, I am an honest merchant, an honest ghost. I must return now, or I’ll drag this translator down with me.”

Zhou Huan watched as the two spirits vanished in an instant, dissolving into plumes of white vapor that drifted away with the sunlight.