Chapter Seventy-Nine: The Haunted House (Part 12)

Hu Chai’s father walked up to her, his face laden with sorrow, and he looked markedly more haggard.

“I’m sorry,” Su Man said, not wishing to be involved in their affairs.

But Hu Chai’s father interrupted her, “This is out of your hands, Miss Su. Even so, are you still unwilling to agree?”

A gun was pressed against her waist.

Su Man showed no fear. She merely turned her head and asked earnestly, “Are you sure you want to pursue this investigation? Perhaps the truth is more than you can bear.”

She was genuinely warning him.

Hu Chai’s father, a man of advanced years, understood her meaning, but his gaze remained resolute. “I raised my child; I know him best. Something happened to my son, and I must avenge him.”

“Very well,” Su Man surrendered, “I’ll help you.”

Dealing with these people was troublesome enough, not least because they were armed. If she refused, she might very well die here, and that would be a senseless death. Besides, it was something she could manage with little effort.

Hu Chai’s father was taken aback, not expecting her stiff resistance to melt so easily. “You truly agree?”

“Yes, I agree.” Su Man looked at him with a hint of deeper meaning. “As long as you’re sure you won’t regret it.”

“I will never regret avenging my son!” Hu Chai’s adoptive father declared firmly. “My surname is Hu—Hu Nian. I’m older than you by several years; you may call me Uncle Hu if you wish.”

Su Man nodded her understanding, and her eyes flickered toward the so-called “master” standing silently by.

“That’s Qing Nian,” Hu Nian introduced after a brief hesitation, “the expert I hired.”

Ever since learning that Hu Chai was returning to this place, he had been searching for solutions. Qing Nian was his answer, found through many connections and at great cost.

Now that they were all on the same side, he saw no reason to hide anything.

“This place is filled with evil,” Hu Nian said, gesturing to the family resting upstairs. “I’m certain they’re all long dead—victims of that massacre years ago.”

He himself had handled the corpses, so the memory was vivid.

Su Man had already surmised as much. What she wanted to know was, “Was there ever a fire here back then?”

“A fire? No. Why do you ask?” Hu Nian paused, answering her but inwardly raising his guard.

“Oh, just curious. On TV, they always use fire to destroy evidence,” she replied, not revealing her true thoughts.

Still, she was puzzled. If there had been no fire, what explained the burn marks on Aiji and her beloved Princess?

“Um... about the food?” Chen Meng had been trying to interject for a while, but her hunger finally got the better of her.

“It’s gone,” Su Man answered kindly.

“Gone? What did you eat?” Chen Meng stared at Su Man as if she could see through her. It had only been a few minutes. They’d had so little to eat last night, and now there was nothing left. Was she supposed to starve?

“Bread,” Su Man replied, growing impatient.

“Bread?!” Chen Meng’s tone shifted, her gaze turning fierce as she glared at Qing Nian, lips pressed in anger. He was the one who’d called her over, and now she’d missed her meal. Who knew when the next would come?

Qing Nian noticed her glare and snorted. “It’s just bread. Once we get out, I’ll treat you all to a feast.”

Su Man had no interest in their talk of food, having already eaten her fill. She turned to Hu Nian. “So, what do we do now? Split up to look for clues, or—?”

Hu Nian had intended for them to work together but feared Su Man would slack off, so he said, “Let’s split up. Two hours—regardless of what you find, we’ll regroup.”

He made a point of singling out Su Man. “Miss Su, someone as capable as you should be able to find at least a clue in two hours, right?”

Su Man neither confirmed nor denied.

After splitting from the others, Su Man wandered off, eventually slipping away to the small storage room where she’d stayed the previous night.

Inside, except for the absence of Qian Ji’s corpse, everything bore traces of what had transpired.

She stared at the chaotic footprints in the dust, falling silent.

The dust here was thick. Last night, it had been too dark and the lights were off, so she hadn’t noticed. But as an entity attuned to horror, Jing Hua should have seen the disordered footprints. They weren’t made by the Princess. So why had Jing Hua let her go in the end?

Something felt off.

Shaking off her thoughts, she crouched down and rummaged through the dried blood, finding a small trinket. She hadn’t come just to see Qian Ji’s body; she’d noticed the glimmer of a resurrection card here.

The small trinket was the resurrection card. She studied it, finding it somewhat familiar, though she couldn’t recall where she’d seen it before.

Tucking the trinket away, she was about to leave when she noticed an extra shadow on the floor, perfectly overlapping her own.

She spun around quickly, finding Jing Hua standing behind her, silently watching—who knew for how long.

At times like this, words could only betray her. Su Man said nothing, simply watching.

Jing Hua wore the same outfit as yesterday, standing in the doorway without a word. Just as Su Man was trying to guess her intentions, Jing Hua, as if performing a magic trick, produced a bag of bread from behind her back and tossed it over.

Su Man caught it, puzzled.

“Did Aiji cry last night?” Jing Hua asked.

“Hmm?” The question was straightforward, but it left Su Man more perplexed.

Jing Hua pointed at the bread in her arms. “You took my bread. You owe me an answer.”

So the bread was her price?

It wasn’t a difficult question. “She didn’t cry.”

Satisfied with the answer, Jing Hua turned to leave.

Su Man called after her, “If you care so much about whether she cried, why did you kill her beloved Princess?”

“I didn’t,” Jing Hua shook her head. “You don’t understand. If I show her I care, her life in this house will only get harder.”

After those words, she lowered her head, muttering to herself, “Not caring for her is the best way to protect her.”

“It’s all for her good... No, that’s not right. None of it is good. It’s all my fault, all because of me.” Jing Hua stood there, as if two minds warred within her, her expression twisting with anguish.

At some point, the air around them had grown chilling. Sensing danger, Su Man hastily retreated. She saw Jing Hua’s eyes roll back as she lunged at her with astonishing speed.

Su Man’s knife flashed, but Jing Hua dodged inhumanly fast. In the next instant, Jing Hua’s hands were around her throat.

A shrill, piercing voice rang out, “Anyone who hurts my daughter must die! I have to protect her—I have to protect my daughter!”