After the female ghost disappeared, the temperature in the Hospital Ward returned to normal.
Zhang Xianyu looked at Sun Han’s chest, where the green jade pendant was now emitting a gentle white light.
Zhang Xianyu reached out and touched it, feeling a refreshing coolness seep into her hand.
“SK, Skik……”
Sun Zheli saw him frown in silence and summoned his courage to ask,
“Just now…just now, was that…did it come?”
He glanced around nervously, still shaken, not daring to even mention the female ghost’s name.
“Don’t touch this jade pendant lightly.”
Zhang Xianyu nodded, confirming his suspicion.
He guessed that the female ghost was hiding in the jade pendant.
Since it was something she had worn for a long time while alive, it was normal for it to form a connection with her after death.
“Everyone get up. Let’s find somewhere to talk about Sun Zhe’s suicide.”
From the female ghost’s actions, it was clear there was something strange about the two suicides.
To figure out what really happened, they needed to know why they killed themselves.
“There’s a Cha Canting downstairs.”
Zhao Youxiang stood up with Sun Zheli supporting her, glanced at the Master and his apprentice, who were limp on the floor, and then at the unruffled Zhang Xianyu and her companion.
The real and the fake were plain to see.
Feeling a bit embarrassed, she became especially warm toward the two,
“Sun Han’s dad, why don’t you take them down to sit first? I’ll send Master Wang and his apprentice out and come down right after.”
Master Wang, still clutching his neck in terror, glanced at Zhang Xianyu.
His face turned red as he dragged his stunned apprentice up and hurriedly tried to leave,
“No need for Zhao Furen to see us out, we have urgent business and must go ahead.”
Master Wang hunched his back as he passed by Zhang Xianyu.
The frightened apprentice glanced at Zhang Xianyu several times, his eyes filled with both fear and curiosity, a mix of emotions.
“When you walk the night roads too often, you’re bound to get your shoes wet eventually.”
Zhang Xianyu turned her face slightly and said,
“You were lucky this time and didn’t run into something fierce. If you’re unlucky next time…”
She didn’t finish, but it was obvious what she meant.
Even a mild-tempered ghost had almost taken the old Daoist’s life this time—if it had been a malicious one, maybe not even his bones would remain.
“Yes, yes, thank you for your guidance, Master.”
Master Wang bowed even lower, bowed twice to Xie Dingxin, and quickly left with his apprentice.
Once they left, the crowded Hospital Ward felt much more spacious and quiet.
Zhao Youxiang found a nurse to watch over Sun Han, then followed them downstairs.
They booked a private room, and the four of them went in to talk.
Zhang Xianyu never liked wasting words.
Once seated, she got straight to the point,
“What happened with Sun Han and that girl’s suicide? Tell me everything you know.”
Sun Zheli and his wife exchanged a glance before Zhao Youxiang spoke up,
“I know the most, so I’ll explain.”
Sun Han’s deceased girlfriend was named Zhou Qian.
According to what Zhao Youxiang had heard, Sun Han and Zhou Qian got together in the first semester of their second year of high school.
Sun Han’s class was an honors class, and he had good grades.
With the college entrance exams approaching, the class formed a study group.
Sun Han and Zhou Qian were in the same group and grew close during that time.
“Zhou Qian’s grades weren’t very good—she was always in the bottom twenty of the class.”
Zhao Youxiang recalled slowly,
“After her accident, I heard her family situation wasn’t good. Her father was an alcoholic and gambler, her mother was rarely home, and she was raised by her grandmother. Maybe because of her family, she was very introverted.”
Sun Han, on the other hand, had always ranked top three in the grade since he was little, a star student his homeroom teacher paid special attention to.
He was obedient, never let his parents down, and the only rebellious thing he’d ever done was date Zhou Qian early.
Young love is hard to hide.
Their homeroom teacher noticed and, worried it might affect their studies, secretly informed Sun Han’s parents.
After learning about it, Zhao Youxiang wasn’t satisfied with her son’s girlfriend, but since Sun Han insisted, she had to compromise for the time being.
“When did Sun Han’s grades start dropping?”
Zhang Xianyu asked.
Zhao Youxiang thought back,
“It was the second semester of sophomore year. I can’t remember exactly when, but after the first monthly exam that semester, his homeroom teacher called me and said he’d dropped fifteen places, and he was often distracted in class.”
“We all thought it was because of the relationship. The teacher talked to both Sun Han and Zhou Qian separately, but it didn’t help much.”
From then on, her impression of Zhou Qian worsened—she thought her son was being led astray by her.
“So his grades started slipping after the first monthly exam of sophomore second semester…”
Zhang Xianyu said slowly,
“What about winter break? What was he doing then? Any odd behavior?”
“He was doing activities with a club over the break,”
Sun Zheli said.
“What club? Do you know the other members?”
Sun Zheli thought for a long time but couldn’t recall the club’s name.
At the time, Sun Han just told him there was a club event and he’d be gone for a few days, coming back on Little New Year’s Day.
But Zhao Youxiang seemed to remember something,
“I saw a group photo when I was tidying Hanhan’s room. The banner they were holding said something about ‘Exploration Association.’ The photo was tucked in a book—I found it by accident.”
Zhang Xianyu had a feeling there might be a clue in that photo, so the group immediately set off to the Family Building to look for it.
The hospital was only about half an hour from the Family Building, so they drove over quickly.
The Sun Family lived on the 8th floor of C Building—a proper three-bedroom, two-living room setup, warmly decorated, clearly a home that its owners cared about.
Sun Han’s room was the second bedroom.
Since the owner had been hospitalized, it hadn’t been opened in days.
When they opened the door, a damp, decaying smell rushed out.
“Why does it smell so musty?”
Zhao Youxiang opened the balcony door and windows, letting sunlight in.
After that, she rummaged through the bookshelf for a while, found a physics book, flipped a few pages, and saw a photo tucked inside.
The photo wasn’t laminated, placed face down.
“Found it, this is…” she started.
Zhao Youxiang turned the photo over and glanced at it before handing it over—her words cut off mid-sentence.
She stared at the photo, face turning pale, fingers trembling so much she almost dropped the thin photo.
“Wife?”
Sun Zheli couldn’t see the front of the photo from his angle, but seeing her so frightened, he reached to take it.
But Zhang Xianyu got it first.
“Let me see.”
The photo, whether poorly taken or poorly preserved, had turned yellowish like an old photo.
There were six people in the picture—
Sun Han and Zhou Qian stood in the center, each flanked by two boys and two girls.
That should have been normal.
But for some reason, of the six people, only Sun Han and Zhou Qian were clear; the other four were blurry, as if overexposed, leaving only vague silhouettes.
Those blurry figures made the two in the middle look even clearer and gave the photo an eerie feeling.
All six were holding a red banner that read “Exploration xx Association,” with the two characters in the middle blurred and unreadable.
“It wasn’t like this before…”
Zhao Youxiang muttered, as if her soul had left her body,
“I’ve seen this photo before, it was clear. The girl on the far left had straight bangs, and the boy on the right had a big black mole at the corner of his mouth…”
Zhang Xianyu exchanged a glance with Xie Dingxin, both realizing something was wrong.
“Calm down first.”
Zhang Xianyu slipped a Qingxin Talisman into Zhao Youxiang’s pocket, then said to the flustered Sun Zheli,
“Help her out to rest for a bit. Does Sun Han’s phone still exist? I want to see if there are any clues in his chat records.”
Sun Zheli nodded blankly,
“Yes, it’s in the left drawer. The password is 010812.”
Zhang Xianyu nodded, took out the phone, unlocked it, and started checking the communication records one by one.
Since it was a club activity, there should be notifications about the time and place.
After going through all the WeChat records and finding nothing, Zhang Xianyu switched to QQ.
Sun Han had quite a few QQ groups, and they were much more active than his WeChat.
After searching for a while, Zhang Xianyu found a discussion group named “Weizhi.”
Zhang Xianyu checked the group members—six people, including Sun Han.
There was a member marked as “Baobei Qianqian,” which turned out to be Zhou Qian’s account.
Besides the two of them, the other four accounts all had default system avatars, and their nicknames were just QQ numbers.
All six accounts in the group were greyed out.
Zhang Xianyu exited and started scrolling through the chat history.
Most of the messages were between Zhou Qian and Sun Han, who were clearly in the midst of a passionate romance—their chats were full of pink love vibes.
It wasn’t until a week before winter break that Zhang Xianyu finally saw messages from the other members.
The other party didn’t say much, just asked,
“Anyone joining the winter break event?”
The other three quickly replied that they’d join.
Sun Han and Zhou Qian were enthusiastic too, asking what kind of event it was.
After that, there were no more messages.
Zhang Xianyu tried syncing the chat history.
After loading, a few more messages appeared.
[Sun Han: What event? Where is it?]
[725722348: I heard there’s a temple at Jiuhuan Mountain that’s very effective, especially for praying for romance.]
[Baobei Qianqian: @Han, shall we go?]
[Sun Han: Okay.]
[725722348: @Everyone, let’s meet at Jiuhuan Mountain station after the break.]
The chat ended there. After that, Sun Han and Zhou Qian just discussed what to bring.
“Is there a temple at Jiuhuan Mountain?”
Zhang Xianyu asked Xie Dingxin.
Xie Dingxin shook his head,
“That place is really remote, almost all undeveloped suburbs. Hardly anyone goes there. Temples and shrines need people and incense to thrive—no way anyone would build one out there.”
Zhang Xianyu looked at the greyed-out avatars, thought for a moment, then took out her own phone to search for the Qun Zhu’s QQ.
The user was online, with a sun avatar and the nickname “嵬.”
Zhang Xianyu tried adding them as a friend, and the request was quickly accepted.
She checked Sun Han’s discussion group again—it was clearly the same QQ number, but here it only showed a grey system avatar.