Chapter 256

Inside the low fence, a four-story dilapidated building stood, mottled and ruined, like an old man leaning on a cane standing in the bleak wind. At the top of the courtyard hung a yellowed plaque bearing the three large characters "Child Fate Bay." However, the ink had faded with time's washing; though the plaque remained steady, the ink on it showed a tendency to fade.

This is the third day since I returned home; for three days I have lain in bed tossing and turning, unable to sleep peacefully. Whenever I close my eyes, dirty, sallow smiling faces appear in my mind, and I feel I ought to do something, so I have come.

Inside the courtyard, an old man with white hair sat on a chair, inserting fine needles, attaching a small lamp to a green button. I recognized this work—it's handicraft from an electronics factory; inserting one earns only a few cents.

"You are…?" the old man lifted his head, his cloudy eyes full of doubt.

"Oh, I am Han Duo's friend; may I ask if she is here?" I replied politely.

Upon hearing Han Duo's name, the old man's face instantly broke into a smile.

"So you're Little Millet's friend, come, come, please sit," the old man said, his wrinkled face relaxing as he narrowed his eyes, reminding me of the loving mother in Star-Lit Lights.

"Auntie, I'd like to return something to Han Duo, but I don't know if she's here," I said after sitting down, looking left and right before getting to the point. Since the old man directly used Han Duo's nickname, he must be quite familiar with her.

"You mean Little Millet? She went out this morning to run an errand and hasn't come back yet."

Hearing that Han Duo wasn't there, I felt a slight disappointment and handed the items to this auntie, saying, "Auntie, since Han Duo isn't here, I won't disturb you. Please be sure to give these things to Han Duo, and… this is the balance I owe her for purchases; please pass it along to her as well."

The bag contained the Chinese medicine I prepared for Han Duo, and the envelope held ten thousand yuan, all my personal savings.

I handed over the items to this auntie, glanced around the courtyard, and couldn't help feeling puzzled: this Child Fate Bay is an orphanage, so why, from the moment I entered until now, have I not seen a single orphan?

"Auntie, are you the head of this place? Where are the children?" I wondered, puzzled as to how the compound could have no children at all.

"Oh… you mean the kids? They've gone to play at the park." The auntie handed me a cup of water and smiled, saying, "A kind boss from a company donated money for an outing, taking our orphanage's children to play."

The old man poured a cup of water from inside the house and handed it to me, saying his surname is Lan, that he is the director of this orphanage, and that the children of Child Fate Bay call him Aunt Lan or Aunt Xiang.

After chatting a bit about everyday matters, I felt this auntie was a decent person, kind and amiable.

"By the way, Aunt Lan, I wanted to ask you—Han Duo isn't a Daoist, is she? How could she be an orphan? Could her abilities have been taught by people from your orphanage?" I asked suddenly, perhaps because I had run out of things to say.

"Oh, you even know that?" Aunt Lan raised her head, glanced at me with slight surprise.

"No, I'm also a Daoist; I met Han Duo over a certain matter," I said, twitching my nose and giving a smirk.

"Ah… Aunt Lan sighed inexplicably and muttered to herself, "It's been hard on this child."

Later, in bits of casual conversation, I learned Han Duo's background: she is an orphan, abandoned at the orphanage's gate.

However, when Han Duo was thirteen, the orphanage received a strange old woman. She wore ethnic minority clothing, came from Yunnan, and said she wanted to adopt Han Duo.

At that time Aunt Lan found it odd and grew wary, since anyone adopting an orphan normally has to look over all the children before deciding—how could this old woman know the name without even seeing the child?

What's more, when Han Duo first saw this old woman, she showed no resistance, instead being so affectionate that even Aunt Lan was taken aback. After verifying her identity and completing the procedures with the relevant authorities, the orphanage allowed the old woman to take Han Duo away. After all, an orphan being adopted is like finding a family, which is no easy feat. Knowing the woman's background was legitimate, Aunt Lan, as the director, naturally did not obstruct further.

However, Aunt Lan never expected that ten years later Han Duo would return to the orphanage, settle here formally, and selflessly use her own earnings to support her younger brothers and sisters' studies.

"Ah, this child Little Millet is one who values feelings and knows how to repay kindness; she was only thirteen back then. You'd think a thirteen‑year‑old couldn't grasp such things, yet Little Millet not only understands but keeps it in her heart."

Aunt Lan said that over these years, Han Duo has sent almost all her earnings back to the orphanage to fund the children's schooling and provide them with clothing and daily necessities. In such a large orphanage, aside from help from kind-hearted members of society, the greatest assistance comes from Han Duo and others who have left the orphanage.

"Actually, I've advised her many times already not to enter this line of work that cuts off descendants. But this girl is stubborn and won't listen. If she were like ordinary people, marrying properly, having a child, and living a plain life, that would be wonderful."

Aunt Lan's words left me feeling somewhat stifled; although her view of the Daoist profession is as extreme and mistaken as most people's, her overall meaning is not wrong—Han Duo's age suggests she is no longer young, and a woman truly has few years in her twenties.

And Han Duo has devoted one‑third of her life to the orphanage—what belief has kept her steadfast all this time, so that she still hasn't abandoned it today?

My heart felt somewhat blocked as I slowly walked out of Child Fate Bay. I didn't see Han Duo, but at least the money was delivered; in any case, it counts as my own act of kindness.

After returning to Chan Ease Hall, I continued with my usual duties, practicing before the altar, until a boy about my age burst into Chan Ease Hall, at which point my practice came to an end,

He told me his father had been entangled by a ghost and was on the verge of death, begging me to go save his life.

I have a vague impression of this boy; I think he's come to see QingSongShu a few times, but I can't recall exactly who he is. Still, seeing his anxiety, instinct drove me to grab my gear and follow him out.

When I arrived at his house, I finally remembered his identity clearly. He is the son of a wealthy furniture‑factory owner; his father has come to Chan Ease Hall several times before. What impressed me most was his father's stinginess.

His father's surname is Zhou, named Zhou Zhenzhen—a big man who took a very literary female name. He possesses millions in family wealth but is extremely stingy. Once I personally witnessed his daughter wanting to return to her hometown; she took a brand‑new cardboard box from his factory to pack her clothes, but as soon as she lifted it he berated her half to death, shouting at her in front of everyone and reducing her to tears, forcing her to make do with an old, used cardboard box.

I went with QingSongShu to look at his affairs; he first pretended to invite us to a meal, but in the end we ate lunch together in the cafeteria with the workers. Under the blazing sun we examined feng shui for half an hour, and there wasn't even a bottle of chrysanthemum tea—just two cups filled with pure water that we drank from two glasses.

Those who have worked with him all know his stinginess, which is almost like a one‑way door: you can go in but not out. When delivering materials he acts like a grandson, respectful and obedient; when settling accounts he becomes a grandfather, dragging things out for a month and a half, regardless of whether you live or die.

Thus Zhou Zhenzhen earned the nickname 'Stingy Three'; he isn't a great evil, merely excessively miserly and tight‑fisted.

At this moment Zhou Zhenzhen is in terrible shape, his condition severe. Lying on a large bed, he twitches like a chicken's claw, resembling a patient with sheep epilepsy, foaming white saliva from his mouth.

"Chimera yaksha…… Damn, how could it be this thing?" Since Zhou Zhenzhen's son came to find me while I was still cultivating at the altar, my qi sensation had not yet dissipated, so my spiritual eye remained open.

As soon as I entered, I saw a green little demon the size of a palm, incessantly stabbing Zhou Zhenzhen's occiput with a fork; this little demon had two bulges on its forehead like longevity bumps, hardly different from the yaksha often depicted in paintings.

This is likewise a high‑ranking soldier among the Twenty‑Four Directional Troops; it hardly needs interrogation—surely someone is using sorcery to harm Zhou Zhenzhen.

Zhou Zhenzhen's son, while straightening his father's limbs, anxiously asked me what should be done.

I had his family bring a pair of red chopsticks, placed them in Zhou Zhenzhen's mouth to prop it open and prevent him from biting his tongue, then spread out yellow paper and, with a brush dipped in cinnabar, drew two talismans.

After the talismans were drawn, I took the talisman and circled it around Zhou Zhenzhen's head a few times, then lit it. In fact, all of this was merely for show to that little yaksha.

The Twenty‑Four Directional Troops are also living beings; whether they are the Five Strife Five Essences or ordinary wandering ghosts, we drive them away if we can, and only if we cannot will we refrain from killing them outright.

This little yaksha is highly sensitive to the talisman's information; almost as soon as the talisman began to burn, he smelled the incense, sensed its aura, and immediately fled in panic.

"Take good care of your father and help him ease his qi."

Seeing the little yaksha escape, I did not continue attending to Zhou Zhenzhen, but instead followed its footsteps.

In the depths of fate, I had a feeling that lingered in my heart: the master who summoned this little yaksha ought to be someone I know, for the yaksha's aura gave me a sense of familiar, not unfamiliar.

Following the traces left by that yaksha, I ran westward all the way. Its escape route pointed straight to the Five Ghosts Gate of this day, and according to my guess, the person who summoned the troops would be in a deserted place—especially a ruined City God Temple, or an Earth God Temple that few notice.

Sure enough, following his trail I found, in a damaged hall, the master who had cast the spell on Zhou Zhenzhen.

A broken altar stood there, complete with candles, yellow paper, incense, and grass figurines; before it stood a graceful figure clad in red.

It was Han Duo, who was wielding a peach‑wood sword and striking toward Zhou Zhenzhen's crown of the head—a failed spell attempt, the prelude to another casting.

ps: I might take a day off today; over the next week a family member is covering my shift, so I may not need to stay overnight at the hospital. I'll therefore reset my biological clock to live a normal person's life for a week. Xiao Huangkuang Li is the book's recommendation.