Chapter 135: The Cheating Bai Yu Is Zhao Mingyue’s Growth
Of course, something went awry with the task, and Bai Yu had already anticipated it. She’d been wondering about Li Tianan’s reliability since she arrived. When was it ever a good time for trouble to brew, and why now?
One thing was for sure: this guy definitely knew something. The real question was, whose side was he on? Was he good or bad for Zhao Mingyue?
“It’s raining.”
A tiny raindrop plinked onto Bai Yu’s face, prompting her to look up at the sky. All she saw were heavy, brooding clouds, but in her peripheral vision, something caught her attention.
In a room on the third floor, through a window crudely covered with old newspapers, a pair of pitch-black eyes stared intently at her. The gap was too small for Bai Yu to determine the person’s age or gender, but since they were spying, there was no doubt—it had to be Huang Fengxi.
Bai Yu remained calm and folded her arms, surveying everyone in the yard.
These relatives didn’t have anything special about them; most were chatting quietly under the eaves, their voices hushed so that only they could hear.
This produced a constant murmur that filled the air, lingering around them, but Bai Yu couldn’t make out what they were actually saying.
Dim, cold lighting, a mysteriously large black coffin, whispering people, a lifeless spirit hall devoid of vigor, walls lined with razor wire, and the little girl locked away on the third floor—no one dared to mention her.
Bai Yu could tell that these relatives were also vaguely divided into two factions; one headed by the eldest, Huang Hai, the other led by Huang Laoer.
Huang Hai’s group seemed reluctant to mention Fengxi, cautious around the coffin, but there was a hint of shared sorrow. Meanwhile, Huang Cheng’s group didn’t seem affected by either the girl or the coffin; Bai Yu even overheard someone saying they wanted to smash that coffin and make a bonfire out of it.
One faction was tormented and unwilling, while the other was fuming, ready to chop that coffin in half and incinerate the corpse within.
What could have caused such a massive rift between the two sides?
“Bai Yu.” Zhao Mingyue approached and squeezed beside her, whispering, “Have you found anything suspicious? I feel like there’s a big issue here, but I can’t pinpoint what it is.”
Zhao Mingyue felt her brain struggling to keep up. There were problems everywhere, and she couldn’t connect the dots. She and Lu Liangting had gathered intel, but all they knew was that the people here seemed split into two groups, and things between them weren’t peachy.
Then there’s the old coffin, and it wasn’t just an evil ghost lurking; the old man wasn’t the only problem.
On the other side, Lu Liangting was talking to a friendly-looking old man in his sixties or seventies and had managed to extract nothing useful.
Before Bai Yu could speak, Zhao Mingyue added, “I’ve tried my best, but I still can’t figure it out, so I’ve come over to cheat off you!”
Zhao Mingyue understood she needed to improve, so when she first arrived, she didn’t directly ask Bai Yu for help; she tried to solve the mystery on her own. But after many fruitless efforts, she realized unraveling the truth was harder than she anticipated.
It was like tackling a math problem—knowing there’s an answer at the end, she decided not to look, working hard until she burned through a sheet of scratch paper. Eventually, she entered this magical state of feeling like she understood something while feeling utterly lost.
After pondering, she concluded that it was best to seek the final solution.
“Bai Yu, is there something wrong with that dead guy?”
“The focus isn’t on the corpse in the spirit hall, but on Huang Fengxi,” Bai Yu patiently explained in her mind. “She’s the youngest daughter of the fourth Huang brother.”
“Huang’s fourth? I know him—he has two kids, but I only saw the son, not the daughter.”
“She’s locked up on the third floor.”
“Locked up?!” Zhao Mingyue almost squeaked.
“Do you see the razor wire on the walls? It wasn’t to keep thieves out; it’s to keep people in. You can also tell from the front door—it hasn’t been specially secured, and the lock is just a regular padlock. Look at the inside of the door.”
Following Bai Yu’s voice, Zhao Mingyue glanced over and saw the massive iron lock on the inside of the door.
“The reason they’re keeping Fengxi from leaving is to prevent her from digging up graves and coffins.” Bai Yu dropped a bombshell that no one had considered.
“Digging up graves?!” Zhao Mingyue exclaimed, alarmed. “But that little girl is only thirteen or fourteen! She’s even a year or two younger than Lu Liangting’s sister! How could she dig up a grave?”
In her shock, Zhao Mingyue suddenly thought of something and glanced over at the old, large black coffin in the corner of the yard, covered in mud.
“Is it that coffin?”
“Exactly, there are scratch marks on the coffin,” Bai Yu noted, standing under the eaves, arms crossed, her expression indifferent. “Inside the coffin is her mother.”
“So you’re saying the Red-clothed Evil Ghost is Huang Fengxi’s mom?!” After Bai Yu’s explanation, Zhao Mingyue started to connect the dots, gaining a clearer understanding of the situation.
“I get it! They locked up Fengxi to protect her from the Red-clothed Evil Ghost, right? I mean, a little girl wouldn’t have the strength to dig graves and pull out coffins by herself; she must have been possessed by the evil ghost!”
Zhao Mingyue’s reasoning made sense, especially since it appeared to be true. To protect the child from being controlled by the ghost, they had imprisoned the little girl to keep her from going out and making it easier for the ghost to find her.
“Imprisonment isn’t for protection,” Bai Yu gazed up at the darkening sky, the rain intensifying.
“If it were for protection, then why bring the coffin back along with the corpse?”
“Someone is deliberately provoking the Red-clothed to deepen her resentment.”
“Look again, the razor wire on the walls is new, obviously installed recently—no more than ten days ago—there’s already plenty of bloodstains. Those are from that little girl.”
“If it were truly protection, they could just lock her in a room. Being possessed by a ghost doesn’t grant someone supernatural strength; it just unleashes the potential they already have.”
“A thirteen or fourteen-year-old girl, even at her peak, wouldn’t have much strength.”
“Moreover, the piled-up items at the base of the wall—aren’t they practically a ladder for Huang Fengxi to climb over the wall?”
“This Red-clothed one is trying to let Feng Er escape, but since she’s a ghost, her brains aren’t quite coherent; she thinks the safest place is inside the coffin.”
“How did the old Huang d*e? The seemingly fierce and unapproachable eldest brother Huang Hai and the kind-looking, seemingly easy-to-talk-to second brother Huang Cheng were trying to persuade us to leave when we arrived.”
“You and Lu Liangting are looking the wrong way! You shouldn’t just interrogate Huang Cheng’s people; you should also check in with Huang Hai’s group. They’re harder to talk to, but they might spill some useful clues!”
Earlier, Bai Yu had been observing Zhao Mingyue, noting where her investigations faltered.
Now, stepping away from her usual aloofness to give advice was a way to help Zhao Mingyue clarify her thought process—it would make her observations sharper next time.
It was clear Zhao Mingyue was eager to grow, and Bai Yu wouldn’t just ignore that. If she could assist, she would.
She wasn’t some riddle master; once she confirmed that Zhao Mingyue struggled to find anything useful, even if she did, connecting the dots would be tough, she laid the truth out plainly.
You can’t force things. Without a proper mindset, giving Zhao Mingyue and Lu Liangting two more hours wouldn’t change a thing.
After listening to Bai Yu’s elucidation, Zhao Mingyue nodded, deep in thought.
Now she knew where to focus her efforts:
1. The cause of the old Huang’s d*ath.
2. The background and d*ath of the Red-clothed Female Ghost.
3. What the Red-clothed Female Ghost feared so much that she desperately wanted Feng Er to escape.
4. Who set up the razor-wire fence lined with blades.
5. The current state of Feng Er.
6. Who among the eldest and second brothers was behind all this wickedness.
7. Why provoke the Red-clothed? Wasn’t there a rumor of two deaths?
8. With such abilities, why be afraid of the old Huang? If this was an act, why call them here to “exorcise” the ghost?
9. What had the people in the spirit hall encountered? Was it the Red-clothed or old Huang?
10. Lastly, why bring the coffin into the yard? Were they really not afraid of the Red-clothed one at all?
With a clearer focus now, Zhao Mingyue sighed, feeling as if a mystical insight just struck her. Her motivation surged like a tidal wave.
“There are bad people among these relatives!”
Little raindrops pattered down, soaking the cement floor of the yard, drenching the two coffins—one large, one small, old and new—in a more profound darkness. The “longevity” characters and talismans on either end made it hard to breathe; the atmosphere was oppressively heavy.
The soul-calling banner fluttered as the wind lifted the white cloth skyward.
Suddenly, a noise broke through the previously tranquil atmosphere, startling Zhao Mingyue, already on edge from the whispers around her.
Turning her gaze, she saw that two wreaths standing beside the bright red doors had toppled over, not so much from the wind but as if forcefully shoved down. The thud they made echoed unnaturally, as if paired with the bamboo pole of the soul-calling banner breaking with a sharp crack.
“Alice! This darn weather, it was sunny this afternoon, and now it’s pouring!” someone cursed while sprinting toward the fallen wreaths, presumably to set them upright.
At this moment, Zhao Mingyue glanced back, planning to duck inside to escape the rain. Standing under the eaves, the wind blew the rain onto her face, and it was only getting heavier.
“Old Third, why did you return now?” a man hurried into the door, beelining for Huang Laoer, who greeted him quickly.
Huang’s third brother, seeing Huang Laoer, rushed up to grab his arm and whispered something. After he finished, his eyes darted nervously toward Zhao Mingyue and Bai Yu.
In contrast, Huang Laoer was calm and collected.
Zhao Mingyue furrowed her brow; she had seen this person—a moment ago, when she and Bai Yu entered, he had worn mourning clothes and rushed out. Now he was back, looking frantic.
Just then, a noise erupted from the third floor; someone seemed to be banging on the window. Huang Laoer’s expression shifted, and he snapped something that Zhao Mingyue couldn’t understand—probably in dialect.
Taking a side glance at the spirit hall, Zhao Mingyue’s movement froze.
The paper in the pan for burning didn’t seem to be extinguished due to damp winds but was losing its vigor rapidly, producing a wisp of white smoke.
Zhao Mingyue felt a strange eeriness; she thought she saw the old man in the memorial portrait… his expression had changed.
He looked even more sinister and furious.
This change appeared to occur in a swift timeline from the wreath’s fall to Huang’s third brother entering, and finally to him cursing at whoever was banging on the window upstairs.
The wind, swirling with moisture, chilled her to the bone. Even Zhao Mingyue, who frequently dealt with ghosts, couldn’t help but pull her neck in tightly.
Before she could step inside, Huang Laoer approached, his expression amiable, looking like an honest man.
“Xiao Zhao, dinner’s ready soon. Follow Xiao Lu, we’ve saved you a seat. If there’s nothing urgent, just sit down for now.”
He scratched his head, “With all this happening, it’s bad luck—neighbors don’t want to come eat; it’s just us family.”
“You’re from the city; it might not be as fancy as your side, but don’t worry, the food is definitely good! You can eat your fill!”
In rural funerals, it’s customary to invite people to eat—it’s called having a banquet. Depending on the occasion, there could be dozens of tables or a small gathering of just a few.
But as Huang Laoer said, the taste of food at rural banquets never disappointed; it could even rival that of big restaurants.
Heaping servings and generous portions at a low price, mainly because everyone was from the same village or relatives and friends. If the cook messes up once, no one will invite them again. Those who survived in that profession were always excellent at cooking communal meals.
Of course, this wasn’t the main issue; Zhao Mingyue felt uneasy—what if they poisoned her?
Not far away, Lu Liangting approached as well.
He may not have gathered much useful intel, but he still extracted some clues from scattered information, thanks to his rich experience. He wanted to chat with Zhao Mingyue a bit more, looking out for the rookie.
“Mingyue, let’s eat first; no rush.”
Lu Liangting spoke, walking closer to Zhao Mingyue, and whispered, “Mingyue, be careful. I suspect something significant will happen tonight!”
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Just like any other afternoon~
By the end of the month, can I beg for some votes? QQ~
