The ghost, stunned by Zhou Huan’s words, froze in place, watching him with a trembling mouth unable to form a single syllable: “This… I!”

“Are you submitting or not? Your surname is Huang, isn’t it?” Zhou Huan pressed, bearing down on the spirit.

This time, the ghost was utterly defeated. His knees buckled, and he dropped to the ground, knocking his head three times: “I accept the bet and concede defeat, Immortal Elder!” This act formally acknowledged Zhou Huan as a celestial being. Zhou Huan actually knew nothing about this ghost’s background; he had been fully prepared to bow down to the spirit himself. But what Zhou Huan hadn't anticipated was seeing this very ghost in a group photo of wealthy young masters taken from old newspaper clippings belonging to a reporter. As fate would have it, this chance sighting allowed Zhou Huan to deduce the ghost’s entire life story, instantly bridging the chasm between them and opening the door for real communication.

“Alright, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Get up. I just want to have a proper conversation.”

The ghost rose, visibly reluctant. “A conversation about what? Do you want to lecture me or mock me?”

“Neither. I just have a few questions for you.” Zhou Huan spoke cautiously. “I was hoping you could tell me the detailed sequence of events, and after you’ve told everything, whether you can accept my counsel.”

“You are an Immortal; ask away!” This spirit was surprisingly quick to trust Zhou Huan based on one educated guess. This gave Zhou Huan confidence. The ghost wasn't inherently malicious; his overwhelming grievance was the source of his volatile nature. Any topic touching upon the source of his resentment could instantly provoke a rage.

Zhou Huan curled his lip into a slight smile. “You’re a decent spirit, perhaps just a bit rough around the edges. But I still need to know your relationship with the person who killed you, and everything that happened right up until your death and after. Perhaps I can help resolve the resentment weighing on your spirit. Relying on those Japanese devils is useless.”

Zhou Huan hit a nerve. The mention of his murderer instantly stiffened the ghost’s face, radiating sheer fury. He struggled, his spectral hands and feet trying to lash out at Zhou Huan, yet some unseen, profound force deep within him held him back, preventing him from striking. Perhaps this was what people called a residual conscience or innate goodness.

“Master Zhou, you…” The ghost managed to restrain his impulse, taking a long moment to compose himself. “Master Zhou, my surname is Huang, my name is Huang Yunfeng. I have a younger brother. When we were small, I was older, so I usually had the upper hand in things. One day, we were playing at riding each other like horses, and he lost. I was riding him, and he got angry, and then we got into a terrible fight.”

As he spoke, Zhou Huan pulled the yellowed photograph from his pocket. “Take a look—was this the time?”

“Ah?” The ghost was startled. “Where did you get this photo? Who exactly are you?”

“I am Zhou Huan, and I came here precisely to settle the matter between you two brothers.”

The ghost instinctively stepped back again. “Truly?” After long consideration, the spirit conceded, “I will trust you for now. After that incident, I beat him up whenever I felt like it. And our neighbor, Liang the Blind Man—we all ganged up on him. Over time, the fellow got used to it. Who knew, when the devils arrived, our family fell apart, and we all went our separate ways to survive. Once, over two flatbreads, I beat Liang the Blind Man so badly his leg was crippled. For that, the bastard—who knows when he learned it—threw a flying knife and finished me off. That Liang the Blind Man ran away.”

After rambling on, the ghost shook his head mournfully. “Alas, I died, and there was nothing I could do. The Japanese dragged me away for biological testing. Worse still, my soul followed them to Japan. The embalmers there collected me. My physical remains are in the country, but my soul is in Japan. Life has been unbearable, so I joined them, becoming one of their ninja, specializing in the most vicious strikes. Honestly, I was too harsh on my disappointing younger brother. I just want to find him and teach that fellow a good lesson again—how dare he murder his own elder brother!” As he spoke these words, tears streamed from the ghost’s eyes; they were not liquid tears but thick, viscous fluids, neither purely black nor white.

Zhou Huan felt a pang of worry hearing the story. It was indeed infuriating, but it didn't seem enough to generate such immense spiritual resentment. Where did this level of grievance come from? This question kept nagging at Zhou Huan. He sensed something when he observed the Japanese Kabuki mask painted across the ghost’s forehead—he felt that mask was the secret key to controlling this spirit. He quietly retrieved a talisman from his pocket and began drawing charms on it in full view of the ghost.

“What are you doing?” The ghost grew wary as Zhou Huan produced the paper, uncertain of his intentions.

Zhou Huan grinned, showing his teeth. “Relax, I won’t harm you. This talisman is specifically designed to let you see the past. Once I smear the residue on the top of your head, you’ll know where your brother is. Try it if you don’t believe me.”

“I don’t believe you unless you let me see my brother first.”

Zhou Huan paid the ghost no mind. He casually lit the talisman and lightly dabbed his index finger into the resulting ash. “How about this: I’ll just apply a tiny bit to you first, and then you see if it has any effect.”

“Just a little bit?” The ghost agreed.

But Zhou Huan knew exactly what he was doing. The amount on his finger was more than enough to bring the ghost into submission. Replacing the Japanese mask on his head with this charm might be the only way to end this ghost’s tenure as a traitor.

Zhou Huan then turned back to the ghost. “Look at the crippled Huang who killed you; he’s dead now too. But his death was more worthwhile than yours! You died in vain!”

“What? How did he die? Why don’t I know anything?” The ghost was utterly astonished.

Zhou Huan smiled faintly. “Of course you don’t know. You weren’t on the same level as him. He could at least be considered a hero resisting the Japanese invasion, but you? At best, you were just a greedy fool who died clutching gold and treasures.”

“Who says!” Zhou Huan’s words enraged Huang Yunfeng. The ghost spoke with a spectral quality, “Then, if that’s the case, I shouldn’t bother settling accounts with him?” As he spoke, his eyes filled with resentment, though it felt less savage and less overwhelming than before.

Seeing this shift, Zhou Huan felt confident. He turned back to him. “Here’s what we’ll do. I’ll show you a path. You’re following those Japanese now; those bastards are worthless. Look, they all fled, leaving only you behind to fight me. You’re so powerful—do you really need to fight me? That’s ridiculous. If something happened to you, would they even care?”

The ghost listened to Zhou Huan, mulling it over deeply. “You do have a point. Fine, I’ll trust you for now, but you must make things perfectly clear to me.”

“Good, listen closely!” Zhou Huan then recounted the life of the crippled Huang to Huang Yunfeng. He finished by telling Huang Yunfeng that his remains, and the bones of Liang the Blind Man, were still in the tomb chamber. However, the crippled Huang had been properly interred. This implicitly conveyed to the ghost that while the crippled Huang might not have been a saint, he was at least a man worthy of respect and remembrance; someone still remembered upon his death.

As he listened, the ghost’s tears flowed freely. He stared intently at Zhou Huan, trembling, and his knees buckled as he sank to the ground. “Master Zhou, I… You not only told me where my remains are, allowing me to finally reincarnate peacefully, but you also taught me the meaning of being a person, and even a ghost. I thank you; I kowtow to you!”

Zhou Huan hurried forward to help the spirit up. “Don’t worry. Those Japanese aren't a match for me right now, but we must hurry after them. Otherwise, the key item for resolving this whole affair—that ring—will be taken away. If they escape with it, retrieving it won't be easy.”

“Master Zhou, don’t you worry,” the ghost said, filled with sincere admiration for Zhou Huan from the bottom of his heart, not for his power, but for his wisdom and integrity. “With their speed, I’ll pursue them and intercept them. You handle matters here quickly and catch up. I will help you, Master Zhou; I will definitely help you get the item back.”