Zhou Huan slapped the talisman onto the remains, then hopped out of the coffin on one leg, grabbing Long Sheng, and began setting up the summoning altar in the courtyard.

Long Sheng broke a sweat helping Zhou Huan, and by the end, he still had no idea what Zhou Huan’s purpose was for setting up the altar. He muttered in confusion, "I really don't know what kind of life you were born into, Master Zhou. You ignore a huge pile of gold just to set up some summoning formation or platform, insisting on placing the gold next to the dead body. What’s the use of that?"

"Whether I was born from an egg or a bird is unimportant; what matters is knowing what we are doing. I’ll tell you once: what we are about to do is ascertain the origin of this corpse, and furthermore, that gold is not yours. If you insist on taking it, the consequences will likely be more than you can handle," Zhou Huan said with utmost seriousness. However, this Long Sheng simply couldn't grasp the gravity of the situation. In his eyes, that pile of gold was the legacy of the Long family, because he had no knowledge of what Zhou Huan had experienced with Translator Long in the illusion, or perhaps the dream.

Then, Zhou Huan glanced at the sky. It was strange; this time the moon was a waning crescent, yet even the half-moon held a faint reddish tinge. Immediately, he sensed something was wrong—it seemed the moon was beginning to turn red again; the Crimson Moon was about to reappear. At this point, he began to doubt the words of that female ghost. Worried, Zhou Huan turned back to Long Sheng. "Go prepare five piles of dry firewood for me. I’ll tell you how to arrange them in a moment."

Long Sheng reluctantly helped Zhou Huan gather the five piles of dry firewood, then stated, "Master Zhou, I respect you, but I can no longer tolerate your commands. The firewood you asked for is ready; stop making me run errands for you."

"You are of no use to me now. Just stand aside and watch what your Master Zhou is truly going to do." Zhou Huan turned and jumped down from the summoning altar. From his bag, he pulled out an ancient haiqing (a robe signifying authority) that he had never worn before, put on his Celestial Silkworm Gloves, and grasped eighty-one bronze coin swords. Then, Zhou Huan arranged the five piles of dry firewood prepared by Long Sheng according to the positions of the Five Elements, before returning to the platform and tilting his head up to gaze at the moon.

The weather, nearing winter, was exceptionally cold. The clouds in the sky were sluggish, rarely appearing unless it was snowing; otherwise, the sky was clear for ten thousand li, making the moonlight appear even more pristine. That faint reddish hue suddenly deepened, finally glowing brilliantly red. Wind, coming from nowhere, began to sweep in gusts, chilling the very marrow of the bones.

Instantly, a ray of the Crimson Moon’s light branched out and shone directly onto Zhou Huan’s summoning altar. Zhou Huan felt the talisman paper on the altar tremble, and the bronze coin sword in his hand vibrated distinctly. The Celestial Silkworm Gloves suddenly became intensely hot. Knowing the moment had arrived, Zhou Huan harnessed the heat from the gloves, launched himself into the air, tucked his legs beneath him, and settled onto the ground. With one hand, he formed a mudra using the Celestial Silkworm Gloves, used the bronze coin sword to lift a prepared soul-summoning talisman, and began chanting the incantation for summoning spirits.

When the talisman on the bronze coin sword burned completely, Zhou Huan picked up ten more talismans, then pointed them in five separate directions toward the five piles of firewood. In an instant, the five piles of firewood erupted into roaring flames, burning so fiercely that half the sky glowed red—a red different from the Crimson Moon’s hue. Then, Zhou Huan roared, "You greedy female ghost! You broke your word! Show yourself now!"

"Hahaha, Master Zhou, rest assured. I won't spoil your business. Continue your investigation; I’ll just watch from the sidelines." This time, the voice truly belonged to the female ghost from the tomb chamber. Hearing this, Long Sheng nearly plopped onto the ground again, but this time he had learned caution. He leaned against a tree in the courtyard, ensuring that if he were to fall, he would at least have to take a large step forward to hit the ground.

Zhou Huan stood up and said, "Very well. The entire scene of me handling matters has nothing to do with you. The moment you try to intervene, beware of my Five Elements Heavenly Array. The fire hasn't finished burning yet; once it dies down, you can see if you can still remain composed. Don't worry, I won't harm you, as long as you retreat to a safe distance from me." With that, Zhou Huan shouted loudly, "Ghost in the coffin, come out! I know you are following this female ghost. Don't worry; if she dares to touch you, she’ll be close to soul annihilation."

Zhou Huan's words actually worked. First, the female ghost fled with a rush of wind. Then, another spirit emerged onto the summoning altar—this ghost's chest was covered in dark, almost black blood, and its left leg was fractured, the bone protruding from the flesh, shedding slivers of debris. This ghost’s head was completely obscured by a thick mop of long, messy hair.

"Hoo!" The emerging spirit let out a breath of ghostly essence. "Master Zhou, I’ve been suffocating in that coffin for decades. I finally see daylight. What is the meaning of calling me out today?"

"Stop playing dumb. I restored everything you wanted. Shouldn’t you come out and thank me? Besides, after I’ve done you such a great favor, shouldn't you tell me what I want to know?" As he spoke, Zhou Huan suddenly bellowed, "Old Cripple Huang! Have you really forgotten even me?"

Zhou Huan’s gaze drifted toward the emerging spirit as he shouted, and when he looked closer at the ghost, he realized the figure behind the hair might not be Old Cripple Huang. This time, Zhou Huan felt somewhat awkward, but his sudden shout had merely been an attempt to startle the spirit and confirm its identity. If it admitted things, all the better; if not, he would have to devise another plan.

However, this spirit showed no reaction to the name Old Cripple Huang. Instead, it seemed a bit agitated by Zhou Huan’s shout. The spirit slowly raised its head and said to Zhou Huan, "I am a cripple, but it was all Translator Long’s fault. He talked about forming an anti-Japanese army, then actually ran off with this pair of gold artifacts! After liberation, he still managed to be hailed as a revolutionary elder—I truly cannot comprehend it, nor can I swallow this indignity, so I have remained above the eaves of his house."

"You are ruthless. Letting a dead man sleep over the heads of the living—it seems you never intended for Translator Long to live on peacefully."

"Hmph. After finally finding an opportunity, should I let him live well?" The ghost spoke as it slowly moved toward Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan shot out a talisman, titled the 'Drowsy Evil Spirit Charm,' and stuck it directly onto the head of the approaching ghost. He commanded, "From now on, you are forbidden to lie. You must only answer my questions. Otherwise, the talisman will burn, and your soul will detonate. In that case, we will have to return all this gold to its rightful owner."

The disabled ghost halted its shuffling steps, emitting bursts of foul odor from its mouth. Its previously broken leg now seemed attached to where it should have been. It then said to Zhou Huan, "You are truly formidable; you can even hold my leg in place!"

Zhou Huan frowned tightly. "Mister Ghost, what is your intelligence quotient? Don't you know what your leg looks like?"

The ghost looked down and indeed saw that the connection to its leg bone was gone, and if the blood it was emitting were real, it didn’t know how much it would have spilled by now.

Zhou Huan raised his sword. "Enough. I will ask you: your surname, your profession, and how you ended up in this coffin?"

The ghost truly did not want to answer Zhou Huan, but whenever Zhou Huan made a move with his bronze coin sword, it felt an intense discomfort. Thus, it finally spoke, "My surname is Qian. Everyone calls me Qian Chuanzi. Master Zhou, you have met me before, but you simply forgot. As for how I ended up in the coffin, it’s because my unfinished wishes kept me from being collected by the Black and White Impermanence after I died. I followed Translator Long when he moved here; he lived here, and I lived in the stonemason's hut down the hill."

As it spoke, the ghost tried to break free from Zhou Huan's restraint. The moment it moved, a puff of white smoke would arise wherever its body touched the aura of Zhou Huan's sword.

The ghost steadied itself. "That day, I saw Translator Long stumbling down the mountain. I felt uneasy staying in the spirit tablet niche, so I came out, hoping to find some justice for myself. But this fellow arrived and immediately said he wanted to prepare a coffin for his friend."