Chapter 2 : Unorthodox Paths
Chapter 2: Unorthodox Paths
Shen Qingzhou’s middleman was an old degenerate named Old Zhong.
This old fellow had never been a good person in his youth—he indulged in eating, drinking, gambling, prostitution, and smoking, possessing all five vices.
But his advantage lay in his quick mind and wide network. After growing older, he turned to working as a middleman.
Aside from murder-for-hire, he took on everything else.
This job had been accepted through Old Zhong. The two had cooperated many times, so Shen Qingzhou had always trusted him.
Thirty million was no small sum—hard for anyone not to be tempted. Even if Old Zhong might have taken far more than thirty million from the client, no one would complain about having too much money.
Old Zhong lived in a place called Haitang Bay, a villa district consisting entirely of standalone houses with two floors and courtyards.
Though Old Zhong appeared unremarkable in daily life, he was actually quite wealthy. After all, people engaged in gray-market dealings naturally earned a lot.
His wife had run off with someone else years ago, and his daughter was now abroad. In the country, he lived alone, enjoying a carefree life.
He kept several mistresses, but his tastes were rather unique—he didn’t like young girls, only married women.
And they had to have been married before. As far as Shen Qingzhou knew, there were at least three. It was unclear how his withered body could withstand it.
When Shen Qingzhou arrived at his house, he saw that the courtyard gate was not closed and pushed it open directly. The yard was covered in fallen leaves, clearly unattended for some time.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, a bad feeling rising in his heart.
He went to check the garage—the car was still there.
Only then did he walk to the door and push it open. It wasn’t locked. Entering the house, he glanced around; the interior was somewhat messy.
At the table in the living room sat a cup of tea. It had been sitting for so long that a layer of oil floated on the surface, and mold had grown along the cup’s inner wall.
Judging by the mold, Old Zhong hadn’t been here for at least a week.
Shen Qingzhou frowned tightly and lit a cigarette.
“That old bastard didn’t really run off with my money, did he?” he cursed.
But thinking about it, it seemed unlikely. After all, Old Zhong knew his methods.
If it were an ordinary person, being caught after stealing money would at most result in death. But if someone dared to take his money, even as a ghost they would be squeezed until they cried out, never to reincarnate for eternity.
With that thought, Shen Qingzhou sat down on the sofa, rubbed his fingers together, and took out his phone to check their chat history.
Aside from this morning, their last conversation had been exactly a week ago.
He had proudly told Old Zhong that he had a premonition—the job would likely be completed within a few days—and asked him to inform the client to prepare the thirty million.
“I was still too young… sigh…”
Shen Qingzhou let out a long sigh.
It was precisely because the reward was so generous that he hadn’t even taken a deposit. Half a year of work for nothing—the more he thought about it, the angrier he became.
After thinking for a moment, Shen Qingzhou went to the doorway and looked at the overgrown courtyard. From somewhere, he produced three incense sticks. Walking to the base of the right wall, he lit them, rotated them clockwise three times in the air, and finally planted them into the soil.
At the same time, he muttered, “Incense as the guide, answer all calls…”
This was a soul-summoning technique. If there were any wandering ghosts nearby, they would surely be drawn over.
The incense seemed to possess a spirit of its own. Wisps of smoke curled upward, wandering aimlessly in the air like headless flies.
Shen Qingzhou stood to the side, smoking. By the time the three sticks had burned halfway, not a single ghost appeared. His temper flared, and he kicked the incense over.
The swirling smoke instantly dispersed.
“Damn it, what kind of desolate place is this? Not even a single wandering ghost.”
Shen Qingzhou could only return inside and continue searching. Eventually, he found a curly hair on the bed, which he wrapped in tissue with a look of disgust.
Then he left the villa without looking back.
…………
“Mr. Zhang, I’ve found your dog. Please come to Qingzhou Information Consulting Office to retrieve it. Our company address is…”
After hanging up, Shen Qingzhou slumped into his chair.
All day long it was either finding cats or dogs. Finally landing a big job, only for the middleman to disappear.
The more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became. He reached for the Hongwan cigarettes on the table, squeezing the empty pack—there wasn’t a single one left. His gaze shifted to the ashtray, where several cigarette butts were stuck upside down, their filters bitten out of shape.
Just as he was considering whether to make do with them, he caught sight of a three- or four-year-old little girl nearby. She was sticking up her round little bottom, lying over a dog bowl.
“Hey, kid, that’s dog food. It’s for dogs.”
The little girl raised her head, her voice carrying a hint of grievance. “But I’m hungry.”
“Come here.” Shen Qingzhou beckoned to her.
The little girl hesitated for a moment before floating toward him.
Clearly, she wasn’t human. Yet Shen Qingzhou showed no surprise, nor any fear.
She had a round face and a bowl haircut. She wore a black-and-white striped shirt under blue overalls with two large pockets on the pant legs—very cute.
But her face was pale as paper, with heavy dark circles, as if she hadn’t rested for many days.
She came up to Shen Qingzhou, scratched her little bottom, and looked at him curiously.
“You can see me?”
Tilting her head, she spoke in a soft, delicate voice, full of curiosity.
“Yes. What’s your name? How old are you?” Shen Qingzhou asked, reaching out to pat her head.
Such a simple gesture shocked her even more.
“You can touch me too? Are you also a ghost?”
“Of course not. You haven’t answered my question yet.”
“Answer what?”
“What’s your name? How old are you?”
“My name is Xiao Qiu. This year I…” The little ghost lowered her head, counted on her fingers for a moment, then looked up excitedly. “I’m four years old.”
“Only four…” A trace of regret appeared on Shen Qingzhou’s face. Then he added, “That’s dog food. It’s for dogs. People can’t eat it, understand?”
Xiao Qiu nodded, then said again, “But I’m hungry.”
Ghosts could also feel hunger. When hungry, their souls would weaken. Judging by her panda-like dark circles, she had clearly been starving for a long time.
“There’s plenty of food outside. Why not eat that instead of dog food?”
For ghosts, eating wasn’t literal—it was more accurately absorbing essence, feeding on incense or the aura of food.
“Mom said I shouldn’t eat other people’s things casually.” Xiao Qiu said pitifully, her voice full of grievance.
Shen Qingzhou froze for a moment. In all his life, having seen hundreds of ghosts, this was the first time he had encountered such a pure little ghost.
Seeing her pitiful appearance, he opened a drawer and took out three incense sticks. Forming a hand seal, he lit them. Wisps of smoke rose, and a faint sandalwood fragrance filled the air.
“Let me tell you, I rarely offer incense to anyone. You’re quite fortunate.”
He casually stuck the incense into the ashtray, showing not the slightest reverence.
But Xiao Qiu didn’t care. She took a deep breath, and her complexion visibly became rosier.
Yes—rosier. Though she had no physical body, at that moment she looked almost like a normal person.
Even her large dark circles quickly faded.
She rested her chin on the table, greedily absorbing the incense. Strands of smoke were drawn into her body, which gradually became more solid.
Watching her, Shen Qingzhou couldn’t help but think of his childhood.
He had always been different from others, able to see things others couldn’t. He had nearly been sent to a mental hospital because of it.
As he grew older, he finally understood—he had been born with Yin-Yang Eyes.
Because of this, he became interested in myths, legends, and cultivation techniques. After starting school, he consciously collected books on these subjects.
From the cultivation methods of Buddhism and Taoism to the unorthodox folk techniques, he studied them all in depth.
And then he discovered—whether it was Taoist talisman drawing, alchemy, breathing techniques, or Buddhist meditation, chanting, visualization—he gained nothing from any of them.
Instead, when it came to folk unorthodox techniques, he learned them instantly, mastered them quickly, drew inferences, broke conventions, and even innovated beyond tradition—as if he had been born for unorthodox paths.
Over the years, he had learned a chaotic mix of all kinds of things.
“Offering incense” was one of them. The incense he lit through secret methods possessed all kinds of incredible effects. After ghosts absorbed it, they would gain many benefits.
At that moment, the door was suddenly kicked open, interrupting Shen Qingzhou’s thoughts.
Like a startled rabbit, Shen Qingzhou turned and prepared to jump out the window behind him. He had helped people catch mistresses, track enemies, and locate debtors—he had made plenty of enemies.