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Chapter 11 - Chapter 11: Hidden Truths

Zhang Daoxuan's lips curved, as if he'd expected this. His confidence was magnetic, as if he held the universe's strings. "There's another evil spirit at play, isn't there?"

The old man started. "How do you know?"

"I guessed later," Zhang Daoxuan said. "At first, I didn't see the full picture. But once I confirmed you were a guardian spirit, I revisited the events. Rice's essence was stolen—spirits don't eat offerings, and guardians don't scare babies. There's more here."

The old man shrank, his ghostly form no longer menacing. I pitied him; his anger had dissolved into misery. He clung to Zhang Daoxuan like a drowning man.

"Elder, don't bow so low. Mortals and spirits are separate. I shouldn't interfere... but for the child, I'll make an exception."

I tugged Zhang Xinya's sleeve. "Does your uncle deal with gods too? He acts like he's bargaining with heaven."

She scoffed, edging away. "Stop crowding me—you look creepy!" But she whispered: "Not gods. Practitioners like him follow strict rules: five flaws, three decrements, even thunderbolt retribution. Power isn't absolute. They must atone, or their own consciences will punish them. Your uncle's helping the dead... it's a sin he's confessing, to heaven and himself. Otherwise, his dao heart would crumble."

As she spoke, Zhang Daoxuan finished his ritual. He addressed the old man, ignoring Zhang Wei and Wei Xin—clearly disdainful of them. "Speak plainly. What's the full story?"

"It's that beast!" the old man seethed, pointing at Zhang Wei. "I warned him: leave others a way out. Greed blinds men—even the wealthy. But he never listened!"

Zhang Wei frowned. "I admit I wronged you... but how does this relate?"

"Could you not see it coming? The Cheng family!"

At the name, Zhang Wei paled.

Zhang Xinya pressed, and the old man finally recounted:

The Chengs were from a small town in northern Shanxi. Cheng Yi, the son, borrowed money from Zhang Wei to start a business, lost it all, then turned to high-interest loans. When Bitcoin crashed, he mined himself into debt. Zhang Wei's enforcers hounded him—until Cheng Yi jumped into the Fen River, his body never found.

Cheng Erdan, the father, sought Zhang Wei. But Zhang Wei, ashamed, hid. Cheng Erdan, a simple man, despaired. He hanged himself at Zhang Wei's door.

Afterward, Zhang Wei buried the ashes, but Cheng Erdan's relatives rejected them, tossing the remains at his gate. Zhang Wei kept quiet, but Cheng Erdan's ghost haunted him—especially the night Cheng Yi's son was born.

"I snuck out to see my grandson," the old man said. "I tripped, fell down the stairs... and died. My last thought was to see my grandson. I became a ghost, creeping to the hospital. There, I saw Cheng Erdan—bloodied, brain oozing—sneaking into the delivery room. He wanted to possess my grandson, turn him into his own child to haunt forever!"

"He failed because you protected the baby?" I asked.

The old man nodded. "But he's growing stronger. Lately, he nearly swallowed me. I can't stop him. I can only shield my grandson..."

"A guardian spirit losing to a vengeful ghost?" Zhang Daoxuan's face darkened. He turned to Zhang Wei, voice like ice: "When Cheng Erdan's ashes were scattered at your gate, did you bury them properly? Or leave them to fester?"

This was the first time I'd seen Zhang Daoxuan angry—quiet, but menacing, like a volcano ready to erupt.

Zhang Wei trembled. "I... I didn't think ghosts were real!"

"Good deeds ascend; evil lingers," Zhang Daoxuan snapped. "Lead me to his ashes. That ghost has power—your father's guardian spirit is the only thing holding him back. If not, your family would've been destroyed by now!"

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