Chapter Ten: Liberation

The atmosphere in the apartment gradually eased as time passed. Zhang Hua’s emotions also stabilized; after all, she’d spent years navigating the treacherous waters of business and had seen her fair share of unsavory dealings. Composing herself, she turned to Lin Hai. “Master, how did you realize Uncle Zhong... Zhong Youcai meant harm to Zhang Yang?” As she spoke, she glanced uneasily at Zhong Youcai, who lay curled up on the floor, motionless for some time. “He’s not... in any danger, is he?”

Lin Hai cast a contemptuous look at Zhong Youcai. “With a name like that, he never sounded like a decent fellow. Don’t worry—this old scoundrel just fainted from pain; he won’t die.” Then he countered, “Mrs. Zhang, do you recall the first time I visited your home?”

“I do. But weren’t you busy expelling evil spirits and realigning the feng shui back then?” Zhang Hua replied.

Lin Hai explained, “That’s true, but given our years of friendship, I thought I’d offer you a VIP service. Since I was already there, I took the liberty of inspecting every room, just in case. During my check, I found a few exquisitely made, intricate puppets hidden in Zhong Youcai’s room. I found it odd but didn’t think much of it—just wondered why that old fox had such a peculiar hobby. Then, last night, Zhang Yang sought me out and told me about your family’s past. It all clicked when I recalled how Zhong Youcai helped me carry Lin Fan yesterday—I noticed the thick calluses on all ten of his fingers. That’s when I realized something was amiss.”

At this, Zhang Hua immediately turned to Zhang Yang, alarmed. “Why did you go to the master?”

Aunt Zhao, who knew the whole story, quickly interjected, “Madam, please don’t be angry. The young master had his reasons.”

Zhang Yang bowed his head, distressed, and said nothing.

Lin Fan stepped in to mediate. “Mrs. Zhang, things aren’t as simple as you think. Please, let my master finish before you decide what to do.”

Zhang Hua glanced at Lin Fan and Aunt Zhao, then stopped pressing Zhang Yang. She turned to Lin Hai. “So you all know what’s going on except me? Please, master, I beg you—tell me everything.”

Lin Hai sighed and said helplessly, “Mrs. Zhang, everyone makes mistakes in life. But when you finally repent and want to make amends, you may find it’s too late—some mistakes can never be undone. No amount of charity or virtue can erase the wrongs you’ve done. That’s why good and evil bring their own retribution, cause and effect run their course, and karma never fails. Years ago, Zhou Ting was the seed you sowed, and Zhong Youcai is the bitter fruit that followed.”

“What? Zhou Ting? Are you saying Zhong Youcai is in league with Zhou Ting from back then?” Zhang Hua shot up from her seat, as if a spring had been released beneath her, horrified.

“Mrs. Zhang, that’s not what I meant. Don’t be nervous. But some knots in the heart must be untied by the person themselves. How about I summon Zhou Ting, and you can talk it out with her?” Lin Hai looked at Zhang Hua, but seeing her standing there, lips trembling in fear, he quickly added, “But if you’re not willing, we can forget it.”

Zhang Hua stared at Lin Hai in terror, her voice hoarse. “You mean, Zhou Ting is still... No, that’s impossible! Didn’t she...?”

“Master, please—I beg you, let me see her once more,” Zhang Yang pleaded desperately, catching Lin Hai’s intent to spare Zhou Ting.

“Yes, master, didn’t you promise to help them?” Aunt Zhao and Lin Fan chimed in.

Lin Hai said nothing, simply fixing his gaze on Zhang Hua, waiting for her answer.

Tears glistened in Zhang Yang’s eyes as he looked at his mother, hope flickering on his face.

Lin Fan and Aunt Zhao also watched Zhang Hua anxiously.

Zhang Hua looked back at each of them in turn. Finally, her gaze settled on Zhang Yang’s face. She was shaken; never had she seen such profound sadness in her son’s eyes. She nodded reflexively, then collapsed heavily onto the sofa, murmuring, “Alright, master, I’ll do as you say. I want to untangle my own heart as well.”

With her consent, Lin Hai turned to Lin Fan. “Disciple, be ready. This is your own choice—you said you wanted to help.” He produced the spirit talisman orb that sealed Zhou Ting. Before Lin Fan could speak, Lin Hai shoved the orb into his mouth, clamped his jaw shut, and pressed his hand against Lin Fan’s stomach with a surge of energy. “Release!”

Instantly, Lin Fan felt a warm current surge through his body. Then, one by one, his organs seemed to abandon him, no longer under his control. Only his mind remained clear. With his last ounce of strength, he glared furiously at Lin Hai, his eyes shouting his outrage.

“You bastard! Old scoundrel, you said nothing would happen, but I almost soiled myself just now—my body won’t even obey me anymore! You’d better keep your word, or I’ll haunt you even after death...”

He barely lasted a few seconds before collapsing limply on the sofa.

“Master, what about Lin Fan?” Zhang Yang cried out in alarm.

Zhang Hua and Aunt Zhao also looked at Lin Hai in shock.

Lin Hai waved them silent. The apartment fell utterly still, broken only by the ticking clock.

After about a quarter hour, Lin Fan suddenly jerked upright, his eyes wide and glowing green. A sharp woman’s voice issued from his mouth, shrieking, “You wicked woman! You cut my life short, forced me and Zhang Yang into eternal separation. Today, I’ll settle things with you!” With that, she lunged forward.

“Locked you up for two days and you haven’t learned a thing. Still so hot-tempered.” Lin Hai pressed the possessed Lin Fan back onto the sofa and threatened, “If you act out, don’t blame me for being merciless and scattering your soul!”

“Lin Fan,” well aware of Lin Hai’s power, could only pout and grumble, “Stinking priest, always bullying girls. Weren’t you releasing me so I could get revenge?” She shot Zhang Hua a fierce look.

Zhang Hua didn’t dare meet her gaze. She hung her head, trembling, at a loss.

Aunt Zhao quickly moved to shield Zhang Hua, worrying Lin Fan might do something reckless.

“Xiao Ting, is it really you? Have you really come back?” Zhang Yang, unafraid, looked into those glowing eyes and saw the lively, lovely girl he’d loved years ago.

Overcome, Zhang Yang rushed to Lin Fan’s side and seized her hands.

In an instant, Lin Fan’s demeanor softened into that of a shy young girl. Blushing, she gazed tenderly at Zhang Yang. “Yangyang, it’s me. I’m back…”

Lin Hai, seeing where this was going, quickly reminded them, “You two, mind yourselves—don’t go too far, or I’ll have a hard time explaining this to my disciple.”

But the pair ignored him, wrapped in each other’s arms, whispering intimately.

To Zhang Yang, Lin Fan was no longer Lin Fan, but his lost love, Zhou Ting.

They reveled in their reunion, sweet and unashamed, but to the others, the scene was nothing short of bizarre and awkward.

Lin Hua kept shaking her head, Aunt Zhao sighing repeatedly.

“Are you really Zhou Ting?” At last, Zhang Hua, having regained her composure, mustered her courage. She pushed past Aunt Zhao and approached Lin Fan.

“All those years ago, it was my fault—my arrogance, my self-righteousness, my blindness to right and wrong. I ignored your sincere love and looked down on you, which led to today’s tragedy. I’m reaping what I sowed. Now, I sincerely apologize. I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but if your anger remains unquelled, I… I’m willing to atone with my life. Still, I hope you can let go of Zhang Yang. After all, you are now…”

Lin Fan, channeling Zhou Ting, gently released Zhang Yang and interrupted, “Hmph! Forget it. I wouldn’t dare take your life. But remember—your debt to me can never be repaid. I’ll return Zhang Yang to you. Watch over him, never let him get hurt again. Care for him as a way to make it up to me.”

As she spoke, Lin Fan drifted toward the window.

Sensing something was wrong, Zhang Yang rushed after her, but before he could reach her, Lin Fan collapsed to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut.

At the same moment, the spectral figure of a young girl smiled and floated out from Lin Fan’s body. Everyone watched, transfixed, as the gentle, lively figure drifted farther and farther from them. Before fading, the girl gave them a bright, innocent smile, then passed through the glass and dissolved into shimmering points of light that vanished into the air.

“Ah, the human heart is more fearsome than any ghost, yet sometimes a lovesick spirit is kinder than a living soul. What a world!” Lin Hai sighed, then went to the window, carefully checking on Lin Fan.

Zhang Hua, as if waking from a dream, knelt and wept uncontrollably. Aunt Zhao wiped her tears beside her.

Zhang Yang went to where Zhou Ting had disappeared, his face wet with tears. He looked up at the world outside the window, a faint, contented smile playing on his lips.

That evening, Lin Fan awoke to find himself back home, unsure who had carried him there. Lin Hai and Lin Qi were still on the sofa, engrossed in a TV drama.

The scene felt oddly familiar to Lin Fan, though this time Lin Hai’s left eye was noticeably more swollen and bloodshot, his eyelid ringed with bruises.

Lin Fan glanced at Lin Hai and blurted, “Uncle, what happened after that?”

Lin Hai jumped, then snapped, “Will you ever learn? I told you to make some noise before you speak! Where was the warning?”

Lin Qi was startled too, but mostly by Lin Hai’s reaction. She yelled even louder, “And you! Quiet down yourself!”

Both quickly clamped their mouths shut, exchanging nervous glances, not daring to speak further.

When the show ended, Lin Qi said nothing, storming upstairs with a dark face.

Lin Fan hurried over to Lin Hai. “What’s up with cousin? Did you make her mad again?”

Lin Hai grumbled inwardly, “It’s all your fault, you jinx!” But out loud, he muttered, “Haven’t you heard of the Monday blues?”

“Oh… I have. Didn’t think it could get this bad. What happened to your eye?” Lin Fan reached for Lin Hai’s swollen eyelid.

Lin Hai swatted his hand away. “Don’t touch! I bumped it, that’s all… Not a fight, so don’t go spreading rumors.” Seeing Lin Fan’s skeptical look, he quickly changed the subject. “Nephew, you’ve been unconscious for half a day. Anything feel strange now?”

“No, I actually feel better than before. Oh, right, Uncle—what happened after all that?”

Lin Hai cleared his throat and recounted everything that had happened after Lin Fan was possessed, omitting, of course, the sentimental scene between Zhang Yang and Lin Fan.

When he finished, Lin Fan was deeply moved. “And what about Zhong Youcai?”

With some pride, Lin Hai replied, “That old fox—I've crippled all his skills. He won’t be causing trouble again. But Mrs. Zhang really was soft on him. She gave him money and let him go—a woman’s mercy.”

Lin Fan was surprised. “Mrs. Zhang has such a bleeding heart? Shouldn’t someone like Zhong Youcai face justice? Don’t tell me there was something between them?”

“Mind your words. That’s what you’d call a twilight romance. They’ve been… close for a long time, mutual admiration and all that. Zhong Youcai really was a scoundrel—cheated her out of money and love, and in the end tried to kill for wealth and control her estate. Greedy, shameless, lecherous—utterly vile!” Lin Hai, though greedy himself, would never go to such lengths, and thus held nothing but contempt for Zhong Youcai.

“But if he’d been plotting so long, why act now? Why not wait until things with Mrs. Zhang were settled? It doesn’t fit his cautious character—and what’s the link between his plan for Zhang Yang and that secret manual? Even with the truth out, there’s something off here.”

Lin Hai looked at him with surprise, his roguish air fading as he mused, “Didn’t expect you to notice the details. My guess: Zhong Youcai needed to hide out, and that manual—he either stole or seized it. Once settled in the Zhang household, he realized their resources could help him master the ultimate puppet technique. So he set out to seduce Zhang Hua, kill Zhang Yang, and use the puppet technique to control Zhang Hua and seize the family estate. But he didn’t expect Zhang Hua’s pride and arrogance would slow him down. So… it was time running out. If he didn’t act now, he’d lose his chance.”

“Time? What time? What would happen if it ran out?” Lin Fan pressed.

“Oh, come on! Are you done yet? What are you, the king of questions? It’s just my theory—the real answer lies with that old fox. Go ask him yourself if you want to know more.” Lin Hai turned away, refusing to offer another word.

Lin Fan could see he’d get nothing more, but he’d learned enough. At least he understood this bald, ugly man was more than he appeared. Joking, he asked, “By the way, Uncle, how did you know those two were an item?”

Lin Hai fished out a sticker photo and tossed it over, resuming his careless air. “I was hoping to blackmail them with this, but looks like that’s out. Keep it as a souvenir.”

Lin Fan looked at the photo—Zhang Hua and Zhong Youcai, heads pressed together, making peace signs and pouting—a sight too much to bear. He threw the photo back at Lin Hai. “Uncle, seriously? Were you a paparazzo in a past life? Where’d you dig up this horror?”

“Found it in Mrs. Zhang’s room.”

“Damn! I was watching closely—when did you sneak into her boudoir?”

“After you got scared witless by the ghost, I waltzed right in.”

“Liar! You probably lifted it from her wallet, didn’t you? You're almost as bad as Zhong Youcai, always up to mischief. Why not spend that energy reading a book, clean up your soul a little? Keep this treasure for yourself.” Lin Fan tossed the photo back.

“You brat, lecturing me now? If it weren’t for you, would my face be like this?” Lin Hai jabbed at his swollen eye, furious.

“Serves you right! Old man, I’m going to bed. If I stay with you any longer, I’ll turn ugly inside and out.” With that, Lin Fan dashed to his room, not giving Lin Hai a chance to retort.

“You little rascal—come back here! You’ll be the death of me. I need something to eat to calm down,” Lin Hai grumbled, rubbing his round belly as he headed to the kitchen.