Mr. Wang listened to the so-called Dr. Wang and promptly produced a check, written with a one followed by four zeros: “This is a fair price. It’s just an autopsy; it’s nothing significant!”

“That’s easily arranged. Once the examination is complete, I’ll give you a report so you can issue the compensation to the family.” As Dr. Wang spoke, he finally noticed Zhou Huan’s arrival and informed Mr. Wang.

Upon hearing there was a fatality, Zhou Huan’s brow furrowed deeply. He turned to Mr. Wang and asked, “Who died this time?”

“Yes, the reason I left suddenly yesterday was that someone at our archaeological dig site died without apparent cause. I wanted Dr. Wang to perform an autopsy to check for any unusual pathology, so we can determine if it was a supernatural death or an accident.” Mr. Wang’s explanation was understandable, but hearing it reminded Zhou Huan of last night’s crimson moon. It seemed the red moon wasn't targeting Zhou Huan or Shi Bingyuan; rather, someone from the archaeology team had simply reached the end of their time.

Zhou Huan scrutinized the Dr. Wang sitting nearby, then asked Mr. Wang, “Is this Mr. Wang Kuai Dao (Quick Blade Wang)?”

“That is me!” The rasping voice echoed incessantly in Zhou Huan’s ear, bringing the image of Dao Ba (Scarface) constantly to the forefront of his mind—the man looked identical to the one before him, only lacking a beard.

Old Mr. Wang stood up, a stiff smile plastered on his face. “Dr. Wang, please proceed with the examination for now. I’ll find you later; I’d like a private word with Master Zhou.”

“Very well, Master Zhou, please take your time talking. I’ll take my leave now!” With those words, Dr. Wang turned and departed.

Mr. Wang ushered Zhou Huan to a chair, where he sat for quite a while before regaining his composure. He leaned in and quietly asked Old Mr. Wang, “What is this man’s background?”

“Oh, he’s the hospital’s chief surgeon. You know him as Wang Kuai Dao. He has another unique skill: autopsies. Our archaeology team always seeks his help when issues arise. So, even though he’s just a doctor in our small city, he’s quite famous. Any ancient corpse unearthed anywhere usually sends him an invitation. In fact, tomorrow he’s scheduled to begin research on that female corpse.”

“I see. It seems this man should not be underestimated. Then why did you pay him just now to dissect the body?” Zhou Huan was slightly confused by Mr. Wang’s actions and pressed the matter.

Mr. Wang chuckled. “He came today asking for sponsorship. His scalpel broke, and he wants to buy a new set. Moreover, since the man died on my premises, I needed to provide some sort of accountability. Even though the deceased’s family agreed to the autopsy, I still felt I should give this doctor some money as compensation. Giving it to him purely in my personal name, I have no use for that much money myself.”

Hearing Mr. Wang’s sentiments and actions, Zhou Huan was naturally quite pleased. He then asked Old Mr. Wang, “Who died this time? Could you take me to see?”

Since Zhou Huan had requested it, Old Mr. Wang naturally could not refuse. He agreed to Zhou Huan’s request and explained the deceased’s background: “The deceased is named Gu Shichun; he was a core member of the archaeology team. When he heard someone died last night, he became somewhat timid and did not go into the tomb chamber to check the situation as usual. Perhaps it was because Master Zhou was already there, relieving him of that worry, so he went to help his brother, Gu Yong, excavate the site. After digging for a while, this fellow struck something quite hard. He forgot the rules of caution and swung his shovel down directly. A thick plume of green gas erupted from the ground, and he was instantly poisoned and died. Later, specialists arrived and unearthed some toxic gas canisters left by the Japanese, along with some Japanese swords and bombs.”

“Then… is that fellow Gu Yong alright?”

“He’s fine. That guy has a great fate. He was quite far from the site. Only after his brother died did others know, and he found out last. There were only a few people at the scene initially; by the time they gathered around, the toxic gas had long since dissipated.”

Hearing this, Zhou Huan suddenly recalled the Third Child he saw in his illusion—the one killed by a Japanese bomb. Could this Gu Shichun be the so-called Third Child? If Gu Yong is the Fourth Child, then he… Zhou Huan was still pondering when someone entered Old Wang’s office from outside: “Chairman, the family of the Third Child has arrived to sign.”

Zhou Huan’s expression immediately changed. He knew that everything he saw in his illusion would come to pass; no one fated to die could be kept alive. The only thing missing was the whereabouts of Huang Quezi (Yellow Cripple). Where were the bones of that man?

“Master Zhou, please sit here for a moment. Give me ten minutes, and then we will go to the morgue,” Old Mr. Wang said before turning and exiting his office.

Zhou Huan nodded in assent. He sat alone in the room, looking around. On the stack of materials on Mr. Wang’s desk, the title read, “Budget Estimate for Ancient Tomb Chamber Restoration Project,” with the prices for each item listed afterward. At this moment, Zhou Huan felt a degree of admiration for Old Mr. Wang. He was truly an extraordinary figure, and his word was reliable. The document he promised yesterday was ready this morning.

Soon, Mr. Wang re-entered from outside. “Master Zhou, let’s go. I just called Wang Kuai Dao. He was just preparing to perform the autopsy, but I told him we were coming, so he’ll wait for us.”

The two immediately rose, drove separately downstairs, and headed toward the morgue Mr. Wang had mentioned. Upon arrival, Wang Kuai Dao was waiting at the entrance. Seeing the two arrive, he led them into the cold storage room. Several bodies were piled inside: the two painters who died last night, and Gu Shichun’s body. Zhou Huan and Mr. Wang stood beside Gu Shichun’s body as Wang Kuai Dao reached out and slowly uncovered the corpse with a white sheet.

“Third Child?” Zhou Huan muttered unintentionally. Old Mr. Wang glanced at Zhou Huan.

Wang Kuai Dao then prepared his instruments and was about to begin when he heard Zhou Huan speak. He smiled and said, “It seems Master Zhou has very wide connections. You even know him—truly remarkable!”

“No, it’s not… nothing. Is Dr. Wang about to start?” Zhou Huan wanted to say he didn't know him, but that would create a contradiction. So, he smoothly changed the subject and asked Wang Kuai Dao in return.

Wang Kuai Dao didn't press the matter, raising his knife to commence the dissection.

Zhou Huan recognized the features of the Third Child, and he knew he absolutely had to discover whether the Third Child was poisoned to death or killed by some other means.

With Wang Kuai Dao’s agile technique, it wasn’t long before the Third Child’s body was fully opened. Wang Kuai Dao processed Gu Shichun’s various organs, extracting samples and evidence. Afterward, he loosely stitched the corpse back together with thread. “Done. These samples will prove how he died. I need to take them to the lab for analysis. You two should step outside and wait; staying here isn't ideal.”

“Oh, alright. Dr. Wang, you go ahead with the analysis. I want to look at Third Child again.” Zhou Huan answered without waiting for Old Mr. Wang to speak. He reached out, pulled open the deceased’s eyes, and gazed at the eyeballs. “He wasn’t poisoned to death.”

Zhou Huan’s assertion greatly surprised Old Mr. Wang, who paused, unsure how to question him, and instead leaned closer to the body, watching Zhou Huan gently explore the corpse with his hands.

“This man was frightened to death. His manner of death is the same as those two painters; he was definitely not poisoned. The toxins on him wouldn't have been lethal enough, especially since those gas canisters have been sealed for so long; no matter how potent they were, half the efficacy would have been lost by now,” Zhou Huan stated again. Old Mr. Wang had no choice but to believe him, as in his eyes, Zhou Huan was a legendary figure.

At that moment, Zhou Huan formed a talisman in his hand, drawing symbols with cinnabar. He ignited the talisman and threw the burning paper directly onto the corpse, chanting the Spell of the Three Pure Ones Manifesting. He then declared, “If the deceased has intent, please manifest. If not, Zhou Huan departs.”