Chapter 112: Those Who Do Good Are Embraced by Heaven and Earth; Those Who Do Evil Are Rejected by All Creation

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Song Zhong parted his lips slightly and stared at me, eyes wide. “Jiang Huai, Song Baoguo and I may not get along, but this child is innocent—and he’s my little brother. Can he be saved?”

I grinned. “There’s no feud between father and son that can’t be put aside overnight. He can be saved, but we have to go back first. This place won’t do.”

At the words can be saved, Song Zhong’s expression eased a little, though his face was still full of questions.

I looked at him. “If you have something to ask, just ask.”

Now that I had opened the door, Song Zhong stopped holding back. “This… this isn’t quite what I imagined.”

His gaze shifted involuntarily to the man lying on the ground. “In our line of work, aren’t we supposed to deal with ghosts? Why does this look… no different from a street brawl?”

I found a place to lean against, pulled a Red Square Seal cigarette from my pocket, lit it, and took a drag.

I didn’t know when I had grown fond of smoking. Perhaps it was because of Captain Cui.

As I exhaled a stream of blue-gray smoke, I felt as though my soul had been elevated. “Instructor, ghosts really aren’t that frightening. They were once human too. Most ghosts remain in the mortal world because they still have unfinished wishes. When dealing with them, communication is the key.”

“Once their obsessions are resolved, the matter is settled. As for vicious ghosts and violent spirits, talk to them first. If talking doesn’t work, then fight. If they’ve killed people, though, forget negotiating—disperse them.”

“Those who do good are accepted by both worlds; those who do evil are rejected by Heaven and Earth.”

“Actually, the true difficulty in our profession isn’t ghosts. Ghosts are straightforward; they don’t require much thought. People are different.”

As I spoke, I pointed at the man on the ground. “He’s a member of the Golden Cicada Society. You’ve probably heard of them.”

“These people have no humanity. They’ll do anything for their own desires. In their eyes, people are merely tools, and ghosts are merely slaves.”

“Ghosts aren’t frightening. What’s frightening is a heart consumed by greed. Once greed arises, every virtue is extinguished.”

I sighed. “I’m only eighteen, and I don’t understand these things all that deeply. There’s just one thing I remember: when you meet people like this, show them no mercy.”

“You’re only eighteen… What have you been through?”

I shook my head. “Don’t look at me like that. I only came into contact with the Golden Cicada Society recently. I just graduated from school.”

As I spoke, I gripped the broken blade and walked over to the man, then crouched beside him.

“What… what are you going to do now?”

My eyes shifted. I handed the broken blade to Song Zhong. “You do it. My wound hurts. Sever the tendons in his hands so he can’t cast spells and commit evil again. Otherwise, handing him over to Wang Zihao would also be dangerous for them.”

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Song Zhong froze, unable to bring himself to strike.

I understood him. For all his admiration of our profession, he was still only human.

I had once felt the same way. But after dealing with enough incidents, I came to realize that people like us were nothing like the heroic, imposing figures portrayed on television.

We simply did things other people could never understand—things that nevertheless had to be done.

If I had a choice, I would much rather be like the Daoist masters in the movies, never suffering so much as a scratch.

“Instructor, think carefully. If you don’t dare, then you’re not suited to this profession. Mercy and hesitation will only get you killed.”

A man in his thirties was being lectured by an eighteen-year-old brat.

Yet Song Zhong didn’t take offense at all. I had no idea what sort of struggle was taking place inside him, but I could see the cold sweat breaking out across his forehead.

He turned to me. “If we get rid of someone like this, can we save many people?”

“In theory, yes.”

“I understand.”

Song Zhong took a deep breath. Then his hand rose and fell with the blade.

His eyes became resolute.

I knew that from that moment onward, he had truly made up his mind.

After standing, he drew another deep breath. “Jiang Huai, leave this kind of fighting to me next time. I’m very good in a fight.”

I smiled but didn’t answer.

Just then, Wang Zihao arrived with several people.

He was gripping a firearm with both hands and wearing a bulletproof vest. His face was tense as he rushed to my side. “Jiang Huai, how are things? Where is he?”

Seeing the blood spilling through my clothes, he looked deeply concerned and hurriedly waved to those behind him. “Quick, quick, quick! Call an ambulance!”

Although I told him I was fine, Wang Zihao still had me placed on a stretcher and sent to the hospital for bandaging.

After investigation, the man turned out to be an A-list wanted criminal with several deaths on his record. Like Uncle Li, he was a key member of the Golden Cicada Society and a priority target for arrest.

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After leaving the hospital, Song Zhong and I took Song Chao back to the shop.

Breaking the curse wasn’t difficult. Four silver needles had to be inserted into the tiny needle marks on Song Chao’s four limbs.

Then the blood of a close relative had to be dripped onto the needles, allowing it to flow along them into the pinprick wounds.

After that, mugwort, finely chopped cockscomb, and several herbs rich in pure yang energy were mixed together and used to give him a steam treatment.

The process had to continue until the silver needles turned completely black, the dark pupils returned to Song Chao’s eyes, and he began to cry out with his mouth open.

Only then could the four needles be removed, completely lifting the curse.

Song Chao was still too young, so Song Zhong, his biological brother, had to hold him during the steam treatment.

For that purpose, I even spent money on a large wooden barrel. After the two of them climbed inside to steam, I sat on the sofa and reflected on everything that had happened that day.

Just as I began wondering why I had seen Song Chao but not a trace of Yu Nie, my phone rang.

It was an unfamiliar number. Before I could speak, a voice as delicate as that of a young woman sounded from the other end.

“Is Xiao Bei still alive?”

“If he is, bring him to the Baolian Ancient Temple at midnight tonight. Otherwise, you’ll receive Yu Nie’s corpse.”

I didn’t say a word before the call ended. When I called back, the phone was already switched off.

Xiao Bei was probably the man from earlier today. This was troublesome. I had already handed him over to Wang Zihao.

And how could the other side be so certain that I cared whether Yu Nie lived or died?

I glanced toward the bathroom. Song Zhong and his little brother would have to remain inside for at least ten hours, and I had no intention of calling him into this matter.

I took out my phone and called Wang Zihao. After explaining everything, he told me to wait for him at the police station. The matter was too serious for him to make a decision on his own.

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Chapter 112: Those Who Do Good Are Accepted by Both Worlds; Those Who Do Evil Are Rejected by Heaven and Earth — Read for Free.

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