Chapter 273

"We've arrived, this is the place..." Elder Seven took the lead and got out of the car. After a bumpy ride of over an hour, we finally arrived at the Yuan family's manor.

The one who opened the door for me was Yuan Qiu. Seeing me and Pangzi, a hint of surprise appeared on his face.

"Hai Sheng, Xiaoqiang, how did you guys come?" he asked, looking at us puzzled. But at this moment, as I gazed at his familiar face, my own was filled with mixed emotions. Yuan Qiu, are you really deceiving me and Pangzi?

"Little Qiu, where's your grandfather? Is he home?" QingSongShu gave Yuan Qiu a complex look; he had once misjudged him, never imagining that Yuan Qiu was the grandson of the former senior brother.

"My grandfather… he's upstairs," Yuan Qiu said, his face full of dejection and gloom.

"Where is he? Hurry and take us there!" Elder Seven urged impatiently.

"Um… Elder Seven, do you know my grandfather?" Yuan Qiu stared at Elder Seven in astonishment. Seeing the confusion on his face, I and Pangzi exchanged a doubtful glance, and the same thought simultaneously crossed our minds.

Yuan Qiu, could it be that he truly doesn't know his grandfather's background?

Yuan Qiu led us up to the third floor with a gloomy expression; the third floor was completely different from the first and second floors, entirely white‑washed buildings that looked less like a residence and more like a hospital.

"My grandfather… is he in there?" Upon reaching the third floor, Yuan Qiu's eyes welled up with tears.

Puzzled, Elder Seven took the lead, pushing the door open and stepping inside; I and Pangzi followed closely. Yet, the moment we entered the room, we all froze in unison.

An old man lay on the white hospital bed, his complexion sallow, his body emaciated, only a few sparse strands of hair left on his head, his cheeks hollowed out, on the verge of death, looking as if he could breathe his last at any moment; a tube was inserted into his nose, sustaining his life with intravenous fluid.

"What is this?" QingSongShu gasped, his eyes wide open.

Yuan Qiu remained silent, his face grim, and ran to the bedside, squatting down. He gently pushed the old man on the bed and then whispered, "Grandfather, grandfather, friends have come to see you."

After a long while, the emaciated old man on the bed slowly opened his eyes, looking at Yuan Qiu yet saying nothing, his gaze vacant and devoid of consciousness.

When QingSongShu and Elder Seven entered the old man's line of sight, his eyes suddenly widened, his hands flailing involuntarily, his mouth open as he cried "ah‑ah‑ah," as if trying to say something.

"Doctor, doctor, my grandfather's in trouble, come quickly!" When the red line on the nearby monitor spiked, Yuan Qiu panicked and ran out.

QingSongShu sensed that he seemed to have something to say, so he leaned his ear close. I watched from the side as his chest twitched twice rapidly, his claw‑like hand gripping QingSongShu's sleeve tightly.

After those two twitches, the old man suddenly went limp and collapsed onto the bed.

"Ah… senior brother, may your journey be peaceful," QingSongShu sighed softly as he gazed at the old man who died with eyes unclosed; this old man was none other than QingSongShu's senior brother, Yuan Yang.

Just then, Yuan Qiu led a few doctors in white coats running in; upon seeing Yuan Yang lying breathless on the bed, he could not help but burst into loud sobs.

"Grandfather… grandfather!" Yuan Qiu wailed bitterly, his face filled with astonishment and disbelief, not seeming feigned.

"Ah, let's head out first," QingSongShu sighed, shook his head, and walked out.

"Nonsense, what did the senior brother just say to you?" As soon as they stepped out of the ward, Elder Seven couldn't help but grab QingSongShu and ask.

"He wanted to say 'junior brother,' but never got the word out before he passed," QingSongShu said sorrowfully, his expression also very complex.

An hour earlier, we had stormed toward the Yuan family manor with furious momentum, but an hour later, a nameless gloom had settled over everyone's hearts.

After all, he was once a senior brother; the deceased is gone, so how could we recklessly blame him without evidence? QingSongShu and Elder Seven's hearts wavered between pain and doubt, while mine was left only with bewilderment.

We ought to have had a clue, but in the end the trail vanished—Yuan Yang is dead, so he couldn't possibly be the killer? Then who is the murderer?

I crouched in the third‑floor hallway, thinking hard; later, Yuan Qiu emerged from Yuan Yang's room, his face streaked with tears and snot, choking with sorrow.

"The dead cannot return to life; please mourn and move on," I said, stepping forward and patting Yuan Qiu's shoulder— that was the only consolation I could think of.

Yuan Qiu choked back a nod; after we went downstairs and everyone sat down, his mood remained immersed in grief.

Seeing everyone sitting there stunned, Yuan Qiu picked up the teapot on the table, poured a cup for each, wiped his tears, and, voice still thick with crying, asked Elder Seven: "Uncle Seven, Uncle Wang, how did you come to know my grandfather?"

"Nothing much, we were good friends with your grandfather years ago; hearing of his situation, we came specially to visit," QingSongShu said with an evasive glance, paused, then asked Yuan Qiu: "By the way, your grandfather… this is…"

In an instant, the other three turned their gazes to Yuan Qiu's face; I, too, was filled with doubt—how could the once‑majestic senior brother have become this pitiable sight?

"My grandfather had a stroke five years ago and thereafter became a vegetative state," QingSongShu's question stirred Yuan Qiu's painful memories; he wept as he recounted Yuan Yang's history before and after the stroke. From Yuan Qiu's account, we could basically conclude that he had no idea his grandfather was a Dao practitioner, let alone any exposure to the occult.

After comforting Yuan Qiu a few words, we all left the Yuan family ancestral home. Driving back to Chan Yi Tang, we had just stepped through the gate when Han Duo came running toward me.

"How is it? Did you catch him?" Han Duo asked anxiously, chasing after me. Seeing the expectation on her face, I felt terrible, but after much inner turmoil I still prepared to tell her the truth.

"Yuan Yang isn't the killer; when we arrived, he had just suffered a stroke and passed away," I said, shaking my head, speaking frankly.

Han Duo's face darkened, she gave an indistinct hum, and slowly released her grip on my shoulder.

"Don't lose heart; we will surely catch the culprit someday!" I said, clasping her hand and offering gentle comfort.

I approached QingSongShu, hesitated a moment, then asked: "Uncle, now that Yuan Yang has passed, what should we do? The murderer is still killing people, right?"

QingSongShu waved his hand and instructed me: "Don't involve yourself in this matter, nor Han Duo nor Xiaoqiang. Elder Seven and I will continue investigating until we catch the killer." A flash of cold light crossed QingSongShu's face.

Night gradually darkened; in the evening, Han Duo stayed behind, and QingSongShu told me to tidy the storage room so she could move in.

That night, Han Duo did the cooking. Although we had gone through so much and had little appetite, when the dishes were served, both I and Pangzi couldn't help but drool heavily.

Including Elder Seven and QingSongShu, they stared wide‑eyed at the full table of dishes, utterly unable to believe that Han Duo had prepared it all by herself.

"Delicious, delicious, this is truly delicious—compared to this, the food we used to cook at home was just dog shit," Pangzi said, shoveling rice and stuffing vegetables into his mouth.

A cold snort, a deadly‑looking flash of light shot forth, frightening Pangzi so much that he shrank back and hastily corrected himself: "Dad, I mean to say that although Han Duo's dishes are tasty, compared to yours they're still a bit off—just the difference between dog shit and pig shit."

Han Duo chuckled, pursing her lips, while Elder Seven grabbed Pangzi's shoulder without hesitation: "You're right—your father's cooking is literally dog shit; it stinks just to smell it."

"Well…" Elder Seven shifted his tone, speaking at length to instruct Pangzi: "You shouldn't talk like that; by describing it that way, aren't you basically saying you eat excrement? Remember, the highest realm of disparaging others is to hint and jab, to pull and tug, to carry a bit of satire, but never be blatant—aim for the level where hearing 'mountains' you don't hear mountains, hearing 'water' you hear mountains."

I nearly burst out laughing, spraying my rice; Elder Seven is truly something—he actually blended the realm of Zen cultivation into the art of disparaging others.

Han Duo, seeing the scene at the table that made one unable to hold back laughter, also couldn't help but purse her lips and chuckle softly—her smile like a spring flower in bloom. I glanced at her from the side and couldn't help but stare; indeed, from a side view, Han Duo is quite pretty.

Everyone was chatting and laughing, but as I furtively observed Han Duo, a piercing siren suddenly wailed from the gate of Chan Yi Tang, woo‑wooing past. Moreover, a clamor of noisy voices drifted from outside, as if something had happened.

"Let me go see what's going on," I said, watching QingSongShu furrow his brows; the ever‑curious Pangzi put down his bowl and chopsticks and headed out.

I also felt strange; the security around here has always been good, so why would so many police cars show up tonight?

After more than ten minutes, Pangzi returned with a grim face, walked to the table, and said in a sullen tone: "Another person died—a child, just like before, someone stabbed a huge hole in the skull, drained the brain matter, and sucked out the soul."

With a loud "Bang," my heart tightened, and QingSongShu had already slapped the table and risen to his feet.

"Come on, Elder Seven, let's go have a look—I really want to see who is behind this heinous atrocity."

"I'll go too…" Han Duo sprang to her feet at once,

"You're not allowed to go." I grabbed Han Duo and pulled her down, fearing that seeing the scene would remind her of the dead children in Tong Yuan Bay and cause her to lose control emotionally.

"You, Hai Sheng, and Xiaoqiang stay home; Elder Seven and I will go." QingSongShu waved his hand, signaling Han Duo to sit at home and wait for news, then he and Elder Seven headed out.