By now, the sky was already dark.
The watcher stared blankly at the unconscious young man and felt a bit nervous. He asked his boss, “Boss, uh… do we step in here?”

He actually had no idea who exactly he was supposed to be tailing.
The only instruction from his boss had been: as long as anyone appeared in the funeral home who was not an employee or whose behavior seemed suspicious, he had to report it.

He waited for a long time, but the boss never replied.
He carefully tried again, “Boss?”

Cheng Huanzhen’s stiff gaze finally moved, shifting away from the unconscious young man’s face.

Strange.
Really strange.

A bit familiar.
Like he’d seen him somewhere.

But… he didn’t know him.

“Not going to the hospital”?
…That also felt familiar.

His little uncle liked saying that too.

He was wearing a funeral home uniform—
But he didn’t look like one of the funeral home staff.

The temperament was wrong. The feeling was wrong.

…Then, could it be what he was thinking?

Cheng Huanzhen pressed his lips together and said, “Give me a hand. Get him into the car.”

He paused for half a second, thought for a bit, then added, “Tell the group to send two people to take over our spot and keep watching. Do it now.”

The watcher answered doubtfully, “Keep watching? Okay, boss.”

He called for backup, then soon helped the boss move the man into the car.

“Put him in the back seat… That’s fine,” Cheng Huanzhen said. “Thanks. You can head back. I’ll settle your bonus tonight.”

The watcher forgot every other thought he had. His face lit up with joy. “Thanks, boss. You’re the best!”

Only after the watcher had left did the driver finally dare to crane his neck back in surprise and curiosity. “Boss, this gentleman is…?”

“…”

For a moment, Cheng Huanzhen didn’t know how to explain.

What was he supposed to say?
That he suspected someone might actually come back from the dead, so he’d been staking out the funeral home entrance all day—and in the end had really “picked up” a stranger right at the door who, at a glance, seemed full of suspicious points?

He lowered his head and looked to his side.

The unfamiliar young man’s eyes were tightly shut. As soon as he got into the car, he’d curled himself up into a ball. His forehead was beaded with fine cold sweat, and he looked in obvious pain. Messy black hair fell around his face; the damp fringe, soaked with sweat, clung to his forehead.

The face under that hair looked completely unfamiliar, yet carried a sliver of familiarity he himself couldn’t quite recall.

Strange. So strange. So strange.

“Don’t know him, just met him on the road,” Cheng Huanzhen finally said. “Got any wet wipes in the car?”

“Yes, young master. Here.” The driver passed them over.

Taking the wipes, Cheng Huanzhen gently wiped the sweat from the young man’s forehead. Then he carefully rolled him a bit toward the middle, shifting himself aside to give him more space so he wouldn’t be curled up so uncomfortably.

The driver studied his young master’s expression.

It wasn’t joy. It wasn’t sorrow. His brows were tightly furrowed, as if he were thinking through some difficult problem.

…What else could put this look on the young master’s face, if not something to do with Young Master Yiming?

The driver was utterly confused. But he was also relaxed by nature, and knew this wasn’t something he should ask about, so he simply let it go.

“Where are we going, young master?” he asked.

After a moment of thought, Cheng Huanzhen answered calmly, “Home.”

“Home?” the driver repeated, surprised.

“We can’t exactly toss him into some roadside booth,” Cheng said, lowering his eyes. “Call the old house. Have them send a doctor over to take a look at this… gentleman.”

…

Lin Chen slept in a muddle for an entire stretch.

He had no idea how long he’d been out. When he finally blinked himself awake, the whole world was bright again—it was daytime.

He tried to piece things together.
Before he’d passed out, the sky had only just gotten dark.

…So he’d really slept half a day?

His head still throbbed dully, and his internal organs continued to churn slowly inside his body.

They were still repairing and regenerating.

But the pain and that strange twisting sensation inside his organs were already much better than they’d been when the repairs had first started yesterday.

The difference was roughly between “it hurts so much you black out” and “you can grit your teeth and bear it for a long time.”

Lin Chen blinked slowly, his thoughts gradually clearing.

A slightly familiar ceiling came into view.

…If he remembered correctly, this should be the guest room on the third floor of the Cheng house.

The next second, a familiar voice sounded at his ear: “You’re awake.”

Lin Chen sighed silently and turned his head.

Cheng Huanzhen was sitting at the desk in the guest room, a work laptop open in front of him. As Lin Chen turned, he stopped typing, took off his glasses, and moved his chair over to sit by the bed.

Lin Chen gave him a polite smile. “Hello. Thank you for last night. Is this your home?”

Helping him sit up, Cheng handed him a cup of warm water from the bedside.

His gaze, hidden and serious, fixed on Lin Chen as he said, “Yes. Drink a little water first. My name is Cheng Huanzhen. And you are?”

Last night, he’d already had people investigate this man at the funeral home.

As he’d suspected.

The other was wearing a staff uniform—but had nothing to do with the funeral home at all.

…So why had he been there at that time, in that outfit?

And why… stomach pain. Fainting from pain. Yet refusing to go to a hospital.

Contradictory. Full of doubt.

Could this… count as supporting evidence for that ridiculous guess of his?

Taking the cup, Lin Chen smiled naturally. “My name is Lin Chen. You didn’t tell the funeral home what happened last night, did you?”

Cheng paused for a second, then answered slowly, “No.”

“Good,” Lin Chen nodded. “Thank you. If they found out, Director Qian would call me in for tea again.”

“Tea?”

A bad feeling rose in Cheng’s chest.

Sure enough, Lin Chen gave a small smile and said calmly, “I forgot to mention—I’m a spirit medium. I mostly deal with souls. The moment a person has just passed away is when their soul is at its strongest, so I usually choose that time, when the soul has just returned to nature, to communicate with them.”

He paused. “The other funeral homes in the capital work well with me. Only that one is very resistant to me. I had no choice last night but to resort to that trick.”

A spirit medium…

“You’re the one from Fang Chengyu’s funeral…!” Cheng’s eyes flew wide open.

He remembered now.

Back then, the man had been wearing a mask, so he hadn’t recognized him at a glance. But now that Lin Chen had brought it up himself, he could immediately match the two together.

Taken this way, everything suddenly made sense.

So all those “suspicious clues” weren’t suspicious at all.

“…”

So… he wasn’t his little uncle after all?

All the confidence that had grown overnight, watered by every little “clue,” was instantly knocked back to where it started.