In the torrential rain, Third Master walked into Four Lanes Alley.

The alley was deserted. Several flashes of lightning illuminated the bluestone path ahead and the withered tree in the distance.

Xiao You was his sister’s childhood name—Father had chosen it.

Father often said that life in this world was nothing more than left and right, forward and back, advance and retreat, sorrow and joy.

He also often said that having one son and one daughter made the character for “good”—he had no regrets in this life. His only regret was that Xiao You would eventually marry.

When Father said these things, Mother was never interested and would quietly retreat to the side room, leaving him and Xiao You to keep Father company.

In the Zheng household, Father was a useless waste whom no one respected. The Crabapple Courtyard they lived in was like a cold palace—not a soul visited all year round.

“Father, who says Xiao You has to marry?”

The little girl spoke with great maturity: “I’ve looked carefully at everyone who comes and goes—not one compares to Father. Even my brother doesn’t measure up.”

He jumped anxiously beside them, thinking: Ancestor, with that phrase “comes and goes,” can we still keep our tree-climbing secret?

“Father, I drew a picture today. Look, isn’t it nice?”

The little girl skillfully changed the subject, presenting her treasure like an offering—a painting of him practicing with his sword. Just a few strokes captured the laziness hidden in his bones perfectly.

Father’s face immediately darkened.

He quickly walked outside the courtyard, picked up the large blade from the corner of the wall, and made up for the practice he’d slacked off on during the day.

As he practiced, he cursed that little brat to the heavens in his heart, swearing that if he ever again accompanied her tree-climbing or coaxed her to sleep, he’d be a puppy.

The puppy followed him out and sat on the threshold, chin propped in both hands, muttering to herself.

“Brother, the day our Crabapple Courtyard gets ahead depends on you…”

“No wait, it depends on me too. Under my supervision, you’ll definitely become a great general commanding thousands of troops…”

“Brother, practice hard. Otherwise, I’m under so much pressure…”

You’re under pressure?

He thought to himself: Better hurry and find this girl a husband’s family—marry her off quickly before she becomes damaged goods rotting in their hands.

The memory abruptly stopped.

Xie Zhifei stared at the withered tree in the distance, suddenly breaking into a run. His feet tapped the wall several times and he was already atop it.

The wind grew fiercer.

The rain grew heavier.

Heavy raindrops fell into his heavy, exhausted mind. Xie Zhifei leaped from the wall, landed on the tree, climbed down along it, and dropped steadily into the courtyard.

Still broken walls and ruins.

Still a scene of devastation.

Xie Zhifei wiped the water from his face, staring blankly at everything before him, unable to comprehend what had actually happened.

The Zheng family’s corpses weren’t one more or one less. Had she, like him, had her soul fall into another person’s body?

No!

If that were the case, why would she be so indifferent and calm about the Zheng family matters, like a complete stranger?

Such bone-deep pain and hatred—she shouldn’t forget!

Or… she never died at all.

Then who saved her?

Whose body was the corpse that should have belonged to Zheng Huai You?

How did she survive?

Why did she forget what happened before?

Why does a young woman perform ritual closures and demon dispersals for the dead?

Who taught her?

Xie Zhifei’s bloodless face held grief-stricken eyes that closed and opened, closed and opened, begging the boundless night to send down just a bit of heavenly light so he could quickly see through this fog.

However, not only was there no heavenly light—the rain beat down so hard he couldn’t even keep his eyes open.

“Hahahahaha…”

He suddenly burst into loud laughter. The mask that had been plastered to Third Master Xie’s face for nine years slowly cracked, faintly revealing pleasure and madness.

Who cares what’s inside this fog anyway—at least I’m not a lonely ghost anymore.

Huai You has come.

She’s my sister.

She’s still alive.

Eighteen transformations of a grown woman—this is what she looks like now.

How beautiful!

Laughing and laughing, tears fell.

No wonder I felt she was familiar at first sight.

He’d never been a curious person. Sending people to Yunnan Prefecture and Anhui Prefecture to trace origins wasn’t something he should do—Third Master Xie was lazy by nature.

No wonder he wanted to coax her, tease her, thoroughly bully her.

Third Master Xie was short-lived. All these years he’d only mixed with Mingting and Huairen, avoiding even Du Yiyun at all costs. Yet he’d wanted to eat that one bite of food she left behind.

No wonder when she fell ill he grew anxious, when she was hurt he felt pain, when her brows furrowed he’d throw away all face just to smooth them for her.

It all made sense.

Everything made sense.

Xie Zhifei sighed again in his heart: I actually developed feelings for my own sister. I nearly committed a grave error.

At this thought, tears began streaming down. After crying for a while, he burst into laughter again.

Like a madman driven to the edge of a precipice.

…

In the Xie household, Zhu Qing was nearly driven mad with anxiety, and Steward Xie was nearly driven mad too.

Had this day been cursed?

Not only had Miss Yan had an incident, Third Master had also disappeared. Not a single person in the entire Xie household knew where Third Master had gone.

Steward Xie wanted to strangle himself with a rope.

The Ghost Gate opened wide on the fourteenth of the seventh month. If anything happened to Third Master, his old life would only be worth drowning in a manure pit.

Just as both men were spinning in circles with worry, Young Master Pei rushed over with an umbrella. “This rain is heavy enough. Quick, come see what good thing I brought!”

He spread his hand, showing off proudly: “A black dog’s fang—nothing better for warding off evil spirits. This treasure took over a decade to find…”

“Young Master Pei, Third Master has disappeared!”

Pei Xiao raised an eyebrow: “How could he just disappear when everything was fine?”

Zhu Qing didn’t have the face to say Third Master had disappeared after breaking into Miss Yan’s boudoir at night, so he said vaguely: “We’ve searched every courtyard—there’s just no sign of him.”

Only now did Pei Xiao sense the matter was somewhat serious. “Xie Xiaohua, does your master know?”

“Master is interrogating people. This old servant didn’t dare tell him—I just said Third Master had business and went out.”

“If you ask me, concubines are nothing but trouble.”

Pei Xiao cursed while slapping his forehead.

This fellow only went to a few places—either the brothel, the gambling house, or the Imperial Grandson’s villa. But for all three he’d bring him along.

What other places could there be?

Suddenly, his hand froze as he thought of something.

One year, also the night before Xie Fifty’s birthday, he woke up to find Xie Fifty missing. The entire Xie household rushed around searching.

It turned out the fellow had curled up in Four Lanes Alley, sleeping like a dead pig.

It was precisely because of that incident that there were ritual ceremonies on the fourteenth and fifteenth of the seventh month.

“Have you searched Four Lanes Alley?” he asked.

Zhu Qing slapped his forehead. “Damn, I forgot about that place.”

Four Lanes Alley?

Steward Xie’s fat legs went weak.

Oh my Third Master, when everything’s fine, how did your living soul get hooked away by ghosts again!