Lin Jue quickly tracked down the information about the cardboard box filled with nail clippings that had been sent to them. The package had been shipped from a remote town in the southwest, taking three days to arrive, and was ultimately received by Shen Yiqiong. The sender’s information on the package was blank, listing only a landline phone number. When Lin Jue called it, the line connected, but no one answered.

If it were an ordinary package, Lin Jue would likely have tossed it aside and been done with it. However, something about this felt off, so she asked the security guard to keep an eye on the phone number and address.

By now, the worst of the summer heat had passed, and the scorching air was slowly cooling. Shen Yiqiong’s birthday was approaching later in the month, and it was said his family was preparing a grand coming-of-age celebration.

The others were also preparing birthday gifts for Shen Yiqiong. Zhou Jiayu racked his brains but couldn’t figure out what to give him until Lin Zhushui offered a suggestion: “Didn’t you learn to make paper cranes that can fly? Fold a few for him.”

“Just paper cranes? Is that enough?” Zhou Jiayu asked hesitantly.

“Mm,” Lin Zhushui replied. “Those aren’t ordinary paper cranes. They can save lives in critical moments. With your current skill level, folding one in half a month is already impressive.” He casually pulled a box from a drawer. “Use this paper; it’ll be faster.”

Zhou Jiayu took it and thanked Lin Zhushui.

In mid-August, Shen Yiqiong disappeared for a few days, reportedly to go home and get fitted for clothes.

Zhou Jiayu asked where Shen Yiqiong’s family lived, and Shen Yiqiong named a city. Zhou Jiayu remarked, “That’s pretty far from here.”

“Yeah, it’s quite a distance,” Shen Yiqiong said. “But don’t worry, on my birthday, we’ll send a private plane to pick you all up.”

Zhou Jiayu asked, “Is Sir going too?”

Shen Yiqiong scratched his head. “I asked him, and he said he’d come.” Though the weather was still warm in late August, it was Shen Yiqiong’s eighteenth birthday, so Lin Zhushui was likely making an exception.

Zhou Jiayu nodded.

As the most pampered youngest child in his family, Shen Yiqiong received plenty of gifts on his birthday. Zhou Jiayu handed him a transparent box containing paper cranes. Shen Yiqiong was startled when he saw them. “Guan’er, don’t tell me you…”

“Don’t overthink it. Just open it,” Zhou Jiayu interrupted.

Shen Yiqiong swallowed hard and lifted the lid. As soon as the box opened, seven or eight paper cranes flapped their wings and began circling around him. Excited, he exclaimed, “Guan’er, you folded these?”

Zhou Jiayu nodded.

“I tried learning from the Sir, but I couldn’t get the hang of it,” Shen Yiqiong said, scratching his head. He was decent at feng shui, but when it came to mystical arts like talisman-drawing or ghost-catching, he was barely a beginner. Whenever he and Zhou Jiayu encountered something supernatural, they’d just run for it.

“They’re for you,” Zhou Jiayu said with a smile. “Sir said these cranes can keep you safe if you carry them.”

Shen Yiqiong thanked him enthusiastically, clearly delighted with the gift.

Soon, Shen Yiqiong’s birthday arrived. He returned home a few days early, while Zhou Jiayu, Lin Jue, and the others took a private plane to join him two days before the event.

“There’s an auction at their house tonight,” Lin Jue said on the plane, munching on sunflower seeds. “I’ll take you to check it out.”

It was Zhou Jiayu’s first time at an auction. Curious, he asked, “What do they usually auction?”

“All sorts of things,” Lin Jue replied. “Jade jewelry, talisman papers, paintings. I heard the highlight tonight is something from your Master’s collection.”

Zhou Jiayu glanced at Lin Zhushui, who sat nearby, his expression unchanged as if he hadn’t heard Lin Jue.

After landing, Shen Yiqiong’s family sent someone to pick them up. Zhou Jiayu hadn’t fully grasped the extent of Shen Yiqiong’s family wealth until he saw the grand estate and the luxury cars parked around it. Only then did he realize Shen Yiqiong’s family wasn’t just moderately wealthy.

“Mr. Lin, this way, please,” said the person greeting them, Shen Yiqiong’s older brother, who, surprisingly, wasn’t surnamed Shen but Wang—Wang Feixu. “I’ve prepared a private room for you. You can rest on the second floor. The banquet and auction both start at eight.”

Lin Jue nodded slightly. “Thank you.”

“No need for thanks,” Wang Feixu said with a smile. “If I didn’t take good care of you, my father would have my head. Besides, it’s an honor for our Wang family that Mr. Lin, Miss Lin, and everyone else could attend my little brother’s birthday.”

The private room was fully equipped. Feeling hungry, Zhou Jiayu sat on the sofa and munched on an apple.

“Guan’er, when the banquet starts, just relax. If you don’t want to deal with people, stick with Chao San,” Lin Jue advised, knowing Zhou Jiayu was inexperienced. “Most people won’t bother him.”

Zhou Jiayu nodded, though he wondered why anyone would dare approach Lin Zhushui, given his temperament, let alone Lin Jue, who was much more approachable.

When the banquet began, Zhou Jiayu realized what Lin Jue meant by “bother.” Given Lin Zhushui’s status, most people wouldn’t dare approach him casually. But since Shen Yiqiong was the Wang family’s cherished youngest son, the event drew many prominent figures from the feng shui world. Zhou Jiayu watched as a group of elderly men in their seventies and eighties surrounded Lin Zhushui. Under normal circumstances, Lin Zhushui might have brushed them off with his usual cold demeanor, but these were respected elders, so he had to respond politely, despite his unchanged expression.

Lin Jue was no exception, surrounded by just as many people. Zhou Jiayu looked around and realized he and Shen Chaosan were the most idle. No one knew him, and Shen Chaosan, with his intimidating appearance and silent demeanor, radiated an aura of “stay away.”

Zhou Jiayu sidled up to him and started eating.

Though the guests weren’t here for the food, the banquet’s offerings were impeccable—each dish exquisitely prepared and delicious. Zhou Jiayu ate happily.

Shen Chaosan glanced at him but said nothing, maintaining his silence. Their corner was relatively peaceful.

Soon, the birthday boy, Shen Yiqiong, appeared from upstairs, prompting a murmur from the crowd. Zhou Jiayu overheard snippets of conversation—people noting that he was the Wang family’s pampered youngest, studying under Lin Zhushui, and likely talented to have caught the Lin family’s eye.

Shen Yiqiong wore a light gray suit, his youthful face carrying a hint of formality, with a practiced smile. He was clearly accustomed to such occasions.

“Full yet?” Shen Chaosan suddenly asked.

“Huh? Not quite,” Zhou Jiayu replied.

Shen Chaosan chuckled. “You really came here to eat.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Zhou Jiayu said. He didn’t know anyone.

“Keep eating, then. When you’re done, join me on the balcony for a smoke,” Shen Chaosan said, sounding bored.

Zhou Jiayu asked, “You’re not dealing with them?” Despite Shen Chaosan’s fierce appearance, some people tried to approach him, only to be scared off by his glare. One bold girl managed a brief conversation, but he dismissed her with, “I’m eating,” which sent her away. No wonder Lin Jue suggested sticking with him.

After finishing a piece of steak, Zhou Jiayu followed Shen Chaosan to the balcony. Shen Chaosan offered him a cigarette, and they smoked in silence, a quiet understanding between them.

The cigarette had a rich flavor. Zhou Jiayu glanced at the brand, unfamiliar to him, and asked about it.

“Small brand,” Shen Chaosan said. “Made it myself for fun.”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” Alright, Lin Zhushui’s disciples truly were a bunch of hidden talents.

“Why does that guy keep staring at you?” Shen Chaosan suddenly said.

“Who?” Zhou Jiayu didn’t catch his meaning.

“There.” Shen Chaosan jerked his chin toward the balcony below.

Below the balcony was a large blue swimming pool, surrounded by lush, beautiful plants. People were either sitting or standing, mostly engaged in conversation.

Zhou Jiayu followed Shen Chaosan’s gesture and noticed a man in a white suit looking his way. The man was quite handsome, standing next to a woman in a red dress. They seemed to be a couple, their interaction intimate, yet the man kept glancing at Zhou Jiayu.

“Know him?” Shen Chaosan asked.

Zhou Jiayu instinctively shook his head, but then hesitated as a thought struck him. He didn’t know the man, but the original owner of his body might have. After all, Ji Ba’s memories weren’t complete.

“I don’t remember clearly. Maybe I’ve seen him before,” Zhou Jiayu said, looking away.

Shen Chaosan grunted and added, “If something’s up, just say so.” He wasn’t much for words, but after a pause, he continued, “You’re a good guy. Everyone likes you.”

Zhou Jiayu felt a small pang of warmth at that.

Though Shen Chaosan disliked socializing, someone still dragged him away mid-cigarette. It was a young man, apparently a friend, who pulled him back inside. Shen Chaosan looked无奈, telling Zhou Jiayu to come back before eight, not to drink too much, and to find him if anything came up.

Zhou Jiayu waved him off, watching as Shen Chaosan was swallowed by the crowd.

Now alone, Zhou Jiayu propped his chin, debating whether to go back inside for more food. But he noticed people starting to glance his way, some even approaching. Without Shen Chaosan’s intimidating presence, Zhou Jiayu’s approachable demeanor and status as Lin Zhushui’s disciple made him a target of curiosity.

Sensing the shift, Zhou Jiayu stood to find a quieter spot, but a young woman blocked his path. She was cute and said, “You’re Zhou Jiayu, right? I’ve heard of you. You’re Mr. Lin’s closed-door disciple?”

“Uh… sorry, I need to use the restroom,” Zhou Jiayu replied.

The girl opened her mouth but couldn’t muster the nerve to say, “I’ll go with you,” and walked away, looking disappointed.

Zhou Jiayu sighed in relief and hurried to the restroom, planning to avoid the second floor and find a quiet corner on the first floor.

As he was thinking this, footsteps approached, and a hand landed on his shoulder. “Zhou Jiayu, what are you doing here?” a voice exclaimed.

Startled, Zhou Jiayu turned to see the man in the white suit from downstairs, who had been staring at him. The man frowned, his expression tinged with disdain. “Didn’t everyone in the circle say you were dead?”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” So, this guy really was from his past.

“I thought you were dead too,” the man said, sizing Zhou Jiayu up with an unfriendly gaze. “But you seem to be doing pretty well.”

Zhou Jiayu licked his lips and said softly, “Sorry, you’ve got the wrong person.”

“Wrong person? I’d recognize you even if you were ash,” the man scoffed.

Zhou Jiayu stared at him expressionlessly.

The man chuckled under his gaze. “Don’t look at me like that. Am I wrong? Who’re you with now?”

Zhou Jiayu didn’t respond and turned to leave, but the man grabbed his arm. “Hey, what’s with the attitude?”

Zhou Jiayu turned back. “Let go. What do you want?”

“What do I want? How about sharing some of your connections?” The man grinned, his eyes gleaming with malice. “I’ve got a new girlfriend. Guess her last name?”

“I don’t care what her name is,” Zhou Jiayu said.

The man sneered. “You’re hopeless. I’ll tell you—she’s a Lin!”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” He suddenly had a bad feeling.

“You must’ve heard of Lin Zhushui if you’re in this circle,” the man said smugly. “My girlfriend’s his niece! She’s a Lin too!”

Zhou Jiayu didn’t know what to say. He vaguely recalled Lin Zhushui having plenty of nieces and nephews…

“So, who’d you come with?” the man pressed. “I saw you smoking with some guy on the balcony. Don’t tell me…” He laughed. “You got yourself a boyfriend?”

Zhou Jiayu thought, I wish I had a boyfriend, but no such luck. Annoyed, he didn’t want to keep engaging. “Who I came with is none of your business. And I’m warning you—don’t mess with that girl, or you’ll regret it.”

The man hadn’t expected Zhou Jiayu to threaten him so boldly. His anger flared. “You dare threaten me? If people found out about the things you did—”

“You think I’m scared of my past being exposed? What about yours?” Zhou Jiayu retorted coldly. “You think you’re clean? Try anything, and I’ll make sure you regret it.”

The man faltered, his confidence waning, though he still muttered, “You really think they’d believe you if it came down to it?”

“Go ahead and try,” Zhou Jiayu said, wiping his hands with a tissue and giving the man a sidelong glance. “Let’s see who comes out worse.”

The man fell silent.

Zhou Jiayu smirked and walked away.

Ji Ba popped up, praising him. “Wow, Guan’er, you’ve got some guts! I thought you’d get pushed around.”

Zhou Jiayu sighed. “I may not be able to handle supernatural stuff, but I’m not letting a guy like that walk over me.” He recalled the man with the supposed Lin niece and decided to tell Lin Jue about it to prevent the girl from being deceived. Still, he couldn’t help but marvel at the guy’s audacity to scam someone so close to Lin Zhushui. It reminded him of the old Zhou Jiayu…

At eight o’clock, the birthday banquet hit its peak. Shen Yiqiong took the stage, gave a polite speech, and poured a champagne tower. His father spoke next, expressing special thanks to Lin Zhushui with evident respect.

“Guan’er,” Lin Jue said, appearing beside Zhou Jiayu at some point. “You holding up okay?”

Zhou Jiayu answered honestly, “Not really. Too many people.” He wasn’t fond of such events.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to come next time,” Lin Jue said with a smile. “Anyway, Yiqiong’s the last one turning eighteen. When’s your birthday?”

Zhou Jiayu replied casually, “It’s passed. Around May.”

“Which day in May?” Lin Jue asked.

“Twelfth…” Zhou Jiayu realized too late that he’d given the wrong date—the original owner’s birthday was in the summer. Thankfully, Lin Jue didn’t seem to notice, just nodding.

Zhou Jiayu let out a breath.

The lights dimmed, and a massive six-tier cake was wheeled into the center of the hall, topped with candles spelling “18.” The guests sang “Happy Birthday,” Shen Yiqiong blew out the candles, made a wish, and began cutting the cake.

Zhou Jiayu got a slice, courtesy of Lin Jue. “You’re not eating?” he asked her.

Lin Jue shook her head. “Too many calories.”

Zhou Jiayu took a bite and smiled. “It’s pretty good.”

Lin Jue looked at him fondly, like he was an amusing kid.

After the cake, the main event—the auction—began. It was more exclusive, with only a select few invited. Naturally, Lin Zhushui was among them.

The second floor was set up as the auction venue. When Zhou Jiayu followed Lin Jue upstairs, Lin Zhushui was already seated. Zhou Jiayu sat beside him and noticed a half-drunk glass of champagne by Lin Zhushui’s right hand. He drinks?

Catching Zhou Jiayu’s gaze, Lin Jue laughed. “Your Master’s not some immortal. What’s wrong with drinking? He smokes too.”

Zhou Jiayu was shocked. “Sir smokes?”

“Mm,” Lin Zhushui confirmed calmly.

“Told you he’s not that detached from the world,” Lin Jue said. “Oh, look, today’s auction items are interesting.”

Zhou Jiayu turned his attention to the front, where a screen on the right displayed a list of items in small red text. His focus landed on the final item—a painting by Lin Zhushui titled The Feast of Ten Ghosts.

Zhou Jiayu said, “The name of this painting is so strange.”

Lin Jue laughed. “If you saw the painting itself, you’d find it even stranger.”

As they were chatting, the birthday boy, Shen Yiqiong, joined them. He was dressed impeccably today, a far cry from the usual sight of him in loose shorts, slurping noodles with Zhou Jiayu by the door. Plopping down next to Zhou Jiayu, he grumbled about being starving.

Zhou Jiayu handed him a fruit platter from the table, and Shen Yiqiong started munching away.

“There’s a lot of good stuff today,” Shen Yiqiong said. “If you see anything you like, let me know.”

Zhou Jiayu was about to praise Shen Yiqiong’s generosity when the kid added, “I’ll let you take a few extra glances.”

Zhou Jiayu: “…” You’re begging for a beating, aren’t you?

The lights dimmed to a warm, soft yellow, and the auctioneer, holding a small wooden gavel, announced the start of the auction.

The early items were jade artifacts, porcelain, and jewelry, which didn’t spark much interest in Zhou Jiayu. That changed when a stunning glass lamp was carefully placed on the auction table.

Unlike the previous items, which came with detailed introductions about their uses and origins, the auctioneer’s description of this piece was strikingly brief: “Glass lamp, starting bid fifty million.”

The lamp was exquisite, shaped like a lotus flower with petals and stamens rendered in intricate detail. The lamp’s body glowed with a faint blue hue, and its base featured flowing water patterns, giving the illusion of a vibrant blue lotus floating on gentle ripples.

“This lamp suits Jiayu,” Lin Jue said with a smile.

What did the lamp do? Was it just decorative? Zhou Jiayu wondered, noticing that no one in the room was raising their paddles, all seemingly hesitant.

“Yiqiong,” Lin Zhushui said softly from beside them, “bid on it for me.”

Shen Yiqiong, who had been casually observing, wasn’t surprised. “Alright.” He was sharp, waiting until the item was nearly passed over before raising his paddle, grinning as he said, “This lamp’s too pretty to let go.”

And so, Shen Yiqiong secured the lamp at a relatively low price—though “low” was still a hefty sum.

“Got it,” Shen Yiqiong said with a smile. “Mission accomplished.”

“Not bad,” Lin Jue sighed. “Your Master is the last person who should ever attend an auction.”

Zhou Jiayu looked curious, and his confusion was soon clarified with the next item.

The following lot was a small jade bracelet. Lin Zhushui casually raised his paddle once, and the room erupted in a frenzy. The bracelet’s price skyrocketed as bidders went wild, throwing up paddles like money was no object.

“See?” Lin Jue shrugged. “Last time, your Master didn’t bother using a proxy, and the jade he wanted ended up costing several times more because of the hype.”

Zhou Jiayu couldn’t help but laugh.

Lin Zhushui, however, seemed unfazed, sipping his tea calmly as the room went into a bidding frenzy, acting as if he hadn’t caused the chaos.

The bracelet ultimately sold for over eighty million, leaving Zhou Jiayu stunned. Lin Jue remarked, “That bracelet’s worth twenty million at most. Anyone paying more is an idiot.” Unfortunately, there were plenty of “idiots” in the room.

As items were sold one by one, the auction soon reached its grand finale—Lin Zhushui’s The Feast of Ten Ghosts.

The painting was brought out rolled up, but even before it was unfurled, Zhou Jiayu sensed an extraordinary aura emanating from it.

As the scroll was slowly opened, Zhou Jiayu saw its contents clearly. It depicted ten ferocious ghosts, seated in a mountain hollow, raising cups in a toast. The painting’s colors were dark, yet the ghosts were rendered so vividly they seemed ready to leap out. But what shocked Zhou Jiayu most wasn’t the ghosts—it was the background. It felt alive. Clouds drifted, stars twinkled, and the leaves on the treetops seemed to sway in a breeze. Yet, upon closer inspection, he realized the movement was an illusion.

The room fell silent, every eye glued to the painting, unable to look away. Zhou Jiayu was entranced, feeling as if he might be pulled into the scene, until Lin Jue slapped his back, snapping him out of it.

Lin Jue smirked. “It’s a beautiful painting, but don’t let it steal your soul.”

Zhou Jiayu blinked, coming back to himself.