Hu Tingting’s home was cluttered with toys of every description: cloth dolls, Matryoshka dolls, some archaic Japanese novelties, and other peculiar items unseen on the open market, seemingly all crafted by Hu Tingting herself. They were all unique, yet their meaning remained obscure.

To be frank, Hu Tingting looked genuinely lovely in her unadorned photos. She possessed a certain captivating allure, but as long as she wasn't looking directly at you, she simply appeared as a normal beauty.

“Bingyuan, what have you found here?” When Zhou Huan arrived, Shi Bingyuan and Hong Kun had already swept the area. What remained for Zhou Huan was the same as before: using the compass to sweep the room and conduct a thorough search for any new clues.

However, the final results were even less promising than Zhou Huan’s previous location; at least Tian Xiong had managed to locate traces of Bai Guang’s passage in that room. This room yielded absolutely nothing; the compass just spun steadily, offering no guidance or utility whatsoever.

“Master, this…” Hong Kun presented his compass to Zhou Huan.

Zhou Huan smiled faintly. “It’s nothing. These are minor matters. I refuse to believe that even with the mistress dead, there are no traces of her. I brought you here today to figure out a way to retrieve Hu Tingting’s soul and secure it in my gourd, so we can escort them all away together.”

“Master, I understand! We’ll prepare immediately!” For some reason, Hong Kun had taken a liking to setting up altars and arranging objects. In the blink of an eye, Hong Kun had the soul-summoning platform ready.

Zhou Huan surveyed the environment of the room. “The more items here, the better. The more of her spiritual essence we can preserve, the more energy we’ll have. Prepare ink and paper for me; I must inscribe something myself. If I don't write it, handling these matters later will be difficult.”

Shi Bingyuan and the others watched as Zhou Huan wrote. His calligraphy, powerful and vigorous, was an art transcending the ages—truly the work of a master calligrapher. He wrote only four characters. On the first sheet, he wrote: Tingting. On the second: Lone Soul.

The reason Zhou Huan always summoned assistance for lone souls was that these spirits were already wandering off course; nobody knew where they might drift next. By summoning them, Zhou Huan gave them an opportunity. Generally, Zhou Huan wouldn't proactively arrange their passage; he would only send away the primary deceased, and the lone souls would simply tag along to the Bridge of Helplessness, drink Meng Po’s soup, and be reincarnated.

As soon as Zhou Huan finished writing, Tian Xiong and Hong Kun helped place the inscriptions separately on the summoning altar. Afterward, everyone donned the robes of a Shi Master, Zhou Huan included. With a flourish, he produced a talisman, recited an incantation, and displayed his treasured calligraphy. The first inscription summoned the lone souls, because securing these spirits would significantly lessen the power of the Gongnian spell.

Zhou Huan then commanded, “You solitary ghosts and wild spirits, I didn't call you here for any other reason than to offer you a chance. But this chance is not free. You must accomplish one task for me: in a moment, you must shout Hu Tingting’s name with me until I say stop. Do you understand?”

“We understand!” The batch of lone souls that appeared was substantial—enough to give this group something to handle. The two-bedroom, one-living-room apartment was packed full of spirits. If they all manifested as humans, they would be piled high; therefore, these were spirits Zhou Huan could still tolerate. He then instructed, “Find your positions. The summoning is about to begin.”

Afterward, Zhou Huan turned to Hong Kun. “While we chant the spell, you and Tian Xiong must gather every photograph, every piece of clothing related to Hu Tingting in this room and mix them into one pile. This will boost her energy.”

Hong Kun and Tian Xiong never shirked work. They placed all the dolls near Zhou Huan’s main platform, and all other items were piled together. This action alone could significantly increase the energy, greatly improving the success rate of finding Hu Tingting’s spirit, or at least granting her a chance.

“Alright, prepare to guard the dharma. Lone souls, hold steady! Follow me in chanting the soul-summoning mantra.” Zhou Huan and the assembled company—living and spectral—chanted the invocation. The scene immediately descended into chaos. The items belonging to Tingting, just positioned, suddenly became entangled, moving independently, with some even vanishing on their own.

“What is this situation? Can a soul-summoning ritual yield this result?” Zhou Huan himself was puzzled; encountering something like this was entirely outside his anticipation.

The lone souls stared blankly at Zhou Huan. “Master Zhou, we believe the summoning was successful, but we cannot locate any trace of that girl now.”

“Hmph.” Zhou Huan suspected the arrangement of objects had been performed too early; it would have been far better to summon for a while and then place everything together.

Zhou Huan pulled out his compass, yet it failed to register Hu Tingting’s spirit body. Finally, he conceded with a brief statement: “This time, it was a failure. Solitary ghosts and wild spirits, thank you for your efforts. Go downstairs later to collect spirit money and ingots. Thank you for coming.”

Afterward, Zhou Huan led his disciples downstairs and burned all the paper money and ingots they had brought. They then drove towards Fushou Hall. By this time, night had fallen completely; without lights, it would have been pitch black.

At Fushou Hall, everyone slept soundly through the night. The next day, as planned, Dongzi tidied up and eagerly rushed off to work. He was delighted; finally, he was out enjoying himself, as no one there could really keep him in line.

When the driver in the backyard saw Dongzi return, he nearly jumped out of his skin. His first words to Dongzi were delivered in a trembling voice: “My eyelid didn’t twitch, if it had, I wouldn’t have told you anything! Please, spare me!”

In the driver’s eyes, Dongzi was the most potent harbinger of doom; whoever Dongzi cursed would never see the next day.

Dongzi burst into laughter upon seeing the driver’s state. “You’re killing me! If I were that accurate, why would I be hanging around here? Everything I told them back then was nonsense. Besides, don’t you have consecrated Buddhist beads in your car? Just drive carefully, won't that do?”

“Oh, oh, yes, yes!” The driver then scrambled out of the car and began carrying the goods out of the warehouse himself.

Dongzi made to help, but the driver dared not let him; having Dongzi lay a hand on anything was now considered a terrifying prospect.

“Brother Dong, Brother Dong, I beg you, let me live a few more days! I’ll move these things. Why don’t you go to the office, watch some TV, play on the computer?” The driver was genuinely terrified of Dongzi now, realizing that if Dongzi acted impulsively or lost his temper, big trouble would ensue.

Just then, Dongzi sniffed the air in the driver’s direction. “Where is that place you mentioned? Point it out to me!”

Dongzi looked where the driver pointed—it was Hu Tingting’s old office. He remembered she shared the room with the manager. Now that she was dead, would the manager still be working in there?

Dongzi blinked. “Well now, you’ve really found me a spot. I’ll go check it out. If it’s as good as you say, I won’t cause you any trouble today. If it’s full of endless junk, don’t come see me again, or I’ll knock your teeth out!” Dongzi was only trying to scare the driver, who habitually slept on the job and avoided work. This was Dongzi's usual justification for wanting to beat him up, but given the recent events, he held back. Otherwise, he really would have given the driver a sound thrashing, as he and the foreman used to torment the poor man often.

Dongzi followed the route indicated by the driver, passed through an iron gate, and ascended a spiral staircase. He glanced around and asked, “Which office was Hu Tingting in?”

This question terrified the young women present; their faces turned dark purple with fear. “Who did you say you were looking for? Hu Tingting? She… her office hasn’t been used for days. It’s the one to your left. Are you… going in?”

“Of course, I’m going in! I’ll take a nap in there, and I’ll work later. Tell the manager to come yell for me if he arrives!” After making his announcement, Dongzi rushed into the office. He surveyed the room; it indeed looked comfortable. On the desk, there was a photograph of Hu Tingting. Just as Dongzi was about to sit down, he thought he heard a very familiar voice whisper near his ear.