That person was his mother—Lady Zhao.

Actually, when the corpse collector Chen Pi mentioned that Lady Zhao died on Huaiyou’s bed, Xie Zhifei felt something was off.

But at that time, Yan Sanhe was still bouncing around like a normal person. Xie Zhifei had no idea her life was borrowed, so he didn’t think deeply about it.

But now…

Xie Zhifei slowly closed his eyes, his thoughts returning once again to ten years ago.

That night, Huaiyou had already fallen asleep. He was woken by the need to urinate and saw the lamp still lit in his parents’ room, while Father stood alone in the courtyard.

Father and son didn’t exchange many words before commotion arose in the front courtyard. They left Haitang Courtyard one after the other.

With Zhang Tianxing’s skills, he should have discovered the trouble in the front courtyard even earlier than Father. At that moment, he would only do one thing—quickly bring over the substitute kept nearby.

Thus, only Huaiyou and Mother remained in the entire Haitang Courtyard.

Coincidentally, that day was his and Huaiyou’s birthday.

Mother, did you kill Yan Sanhe because you missed your real daughter and hated how Yan Sanhe had stolen the nest, so murderous intent arose?

Xie Zhifei opened his eyes. His gaze was so darkly black that not a sliver of light could penetrate.

This was the first time he’d heard of dead people having heart demons. He found it incredible.

How could there be people in this world whose knots were so deep they became demons? What couldn’t be let go?

During the ten years as Third Master Xie, he thought he’d already emerged from the nightmare of the Zheng family. Little did he expect that just the cause of Huaiyou’s death would make his nightmare return with a vengeance.

Truly, some people and matters could never be let go in a lifetime, nor should they be let go.

After several turns, Xie Zhifei arrived at Yan Sanhe’s courtyard.

The courtyard had somehow been hung with four white lanterns, illuminating the bluestone bricks a ghastly pale white—ineffably eerie.

He crossed the threshold and squatted before the coffin.

Still that cool, detached face, without any change, as if asleep. If you looked carefully, you could even see the corners of her mouth had a slight upward curve.

Had she thought of something good, causing her mouth to curve up?

Xie Zhifei extended his finger and gently poked the corner of her mouth, just like every morning in childhood—waiting left and right for her to wake, then mischievously poking her awake.

This girl slept upright and proper, obedient beyond measure. She’d curl up in the blankets like a little kitten.

The only problem was she liked to leave her hands outside. When it was warm that was fine, but when it got cold, her hands got cold too.

Xie Zhifei touched her hand.

These hands used to be small, soft, with a thin callus on the middle finger pad from practicing calligraphy.

She always liked to use this callus as an excuse, saying practicing her own calligraphy was already hard work, yet she still had to help him write. Look, she’d written until calluses formed.

Didn’t she just want him to feel sorry for her?

He’d pull her hand over and blow on it forcefully twice: Does it still hurt?

Her pair of dark eyes held soul and spirit. She’d smile: It doesn’t hurt anymore.

Thinking of this, Xie Zhifei couldn’t help but apply some pressure while holding Yan Sanhe’s hand: “Girl, you don’t remember any of this anymore.”

The words had just fallen when icy cold aura surged from the small hand beneath his palm. Sensing something wrong, Xie Zhifei quickly released his grip.

Who knew that hand seemed glued on.

Not only that, Xie Zhifei’s entire person seemed frozen by that cold energy, his body unable to move at all.

Suddenly, white light flashed. A door abruptly opened before his eyes. Enormous suction from within the door rushed at him. He was instantly engulfed by darkness.

At the same moment, the old monk sitting cross-legged on his meditation cushion suddenly opened his eyes wide and shouted: “Not good!”

Xu Yun beside him frowned: “Master, what’s wrong?”

“He went in.”

“Who?”

“Xie Zhifei!”

Xu Yun’s breath caught. He immediately crouched before the old monk: “Get on. I’ll carry you.”

The old monk leaped onto his back: “Quickly!”

Master and disciple flew like the wind into the courtyard where Yan Sanhe resided. Before the enormous coffin, it was empty—where was Xie Zhifei?

The old monk’s feet hit the ground. Without another word, he bit his own finger. A spot of deep red emerged from his fingertip.

Xu Yun turned over Yan Sanhe’s palm, revealing the jade pendant within.

One drop of blood fell on the jade pendant, instantly dyeing the entire pendant red.

The old monk closed his eyes and chanted a few Sanskrit phrases. Suddenly, white light burst forth. Within the white light, a door abruptly opened. Xie Zhifei hugged his arms, crouching on the ground and shivering.

The old monk extended his hand and pulled him forcefully. As the person was pulled out, the door slammed shut with a bang. The white light suddenly vanished.

Li Buyan and the others came running over. Seeing master and disciple standing before the coffin, they were all stunned. Weren’t they meditating and resting?

Li Buyan: “Master, why was this courtyard so bright just now?”

Zhu Qing: “How did the bright light disappear in a flash?”

Ding Yi: “Right, was it lightning?”

Huang Qi: “Why was there lightning but no thunder?”

Young Master Pei was the slowest to charge in. His gaze dropped and his face turned green: “Xie Wushi, why is there a layer of white frost on you?”

Only then did Li Buyan and the others discover Third Master propping himself against the coffin, his two rows of teeth chattering from cold.

Hearing this sound, Young Master Pei’s green face instantly turned black: “You, where did you go to get this cold?”

Xu Yun: “He entered the netherworld!”

“Huh?”

Young Master Pei nearly went weak-kneed and dropped to the ground.

This boy entered the netherworld?

How did he get in?

Young Master Pei’s gaze lifted: “Master, how can you play favorites? Just now when I said I’d enter the netherworld, you called me a fool. But now…”

Now he couldn’t continue.

Master Chanyue’s face was three shades paler than the white frost on Xie Zhifei.

“You old sir, this is…”

“Amitabha!”

The old monk looked at Xie Zhifei, his eyes instantly pitch black and sharp: “Child, each breath, each mortal coil, comes with difficulty. Do not play with fire!”

Xie Zhifei’s expression was dazed, as if he hadn’t come back to his senses yet.

Pei Xiao on the side had drastically changed expression.

Playing with fire?

So the old monk wasn’t playing favorites—Xie Zhifei entered the netherworld on his own?

He, he, he, he, he… how could he enter the netherworld?

Young Master Pei looked at Xie Zhifei, then at the person in the coffin. An inexplicable chill rose from the soles of his feet. Could he be like Yan Sanhe, also a…

“Young Master Pei?”

“Master?”

Li Buyan and Huang Qi supported the tottering Pei Xiao from left and right.

Pei Xiao shook off their hands and walked before Xie Zhifei, his gaze fierce beyond measure: “Speak! Are you hiding something from me?”

If it were anyone else, they might be frightened by Pei Xiao’s expression. But Xie Zhifei ignored it.

He not only ignored it but pushed Pei Xiao aside, then bent his knees and knelt before the old monk.

“Master, I, I saw inside.”

The air suddenly froze. Everyone’s expressions stiffened, especially Pei Xiao, whose entire person began tottering again.

The old monk frowned: “What did you see?”

“Haitang Courtyard!”

Xie Zhifei spoke word by word: “And the four people inside.”

What?

Young Master Pei staggered. Li Buyan extended her hand to support him, pressing him to sit in the grand master’s chair.

Young Master Pei was about to thank her when from the corner of his eye he saw Xie Zhifei lowering his body, prostrating at the old monk’s feet in a full kowtow position.

“Master, I want to go in again.”

Bodhisattva! What did he just hear?

Young Master Pei’s barely stabilized body began swaying again.