Before leaving, Ma Jun didn't forget to ask about that hanging calligraphy scroll.
The answer he received, however, left him utterly baffled.
Daoist Jingming spoke with profound meaning:
"That calligraphy scroll is the very foundation of our Aberrant Association."
When Ma Jun pressed further, Jingming refused to say another word.
That only deepened Ma Jun's confusion.
That piece—Li He's "Song of Bitter Dawn"—was written in exactly the same style as his father's handwriting. How had it become the very foundation of the Aberrant Association?
But since Jingming wouldn't explain, Ma Jun couldn't force the issue.
He could only wait until this commission was completed, then investigate the matter carefully.
…
Mount Tai Ping.
The highest mountain on Harbor Island.
Luxury villas dotted the mountaintop, and many wealthy merchants and elite families loved building their mansions here.
While driving, Ma Jun asked curiously,
"So—this Lin Fengqian is really rich, huh? He built his house all the way up here?"
Zhuang Xin made an exaggerated expression.
"Sir Ma, don't tell me you don't know the Lin family."
"They're in the funeral business. Everyone grows old, falls ill, and dies—who can escape that day?"
"If you want a grand send-off and prosperity for your descendants, you have to rely on the Lin family."
"Their feng shui is terrifyingly good."
Ma Jun immediately understood.
So—feng shui masters.
No wonder they made so much money.
He drove all the way to the Lin family estate entrance. The sheer size of the mansion—spanning an area best described as 'five-six-three' enormous—gave him an even deeper appreciation of just how lucrative feng shui really was.
After presenting their Aberrant Association credentials, the mansion's guards became noticeably more respectful.
The two drove forward under guidance and entered the main residence.
Ma Jun wasn't sure if it was just his imagination, but from the moment he stepped inside, he kept sensing a faint Yin aura mixed with the stench of decay.
It simply wouldn't disperse.
The feeling was like an elderly person on the brink of death—heavy, stagnant, lifeless.
Like a withered tree.
Servants respectfully led them to the door of a room.
"Our master is in poor health. Please trouble yourselves to go in and see him."
"Mm."
Ma Jun nodded and pushed the door open directly.
His straightforwardness made the servants' expressions stiffen slightly.
Zhuang Xin chuckled softly.
The longer she spent with Ma Jun, the more she could feel that natural, unrestrained aura about him.
It intoxicated her.
She wished she could relive old dreams with him right then and there.
The room was extremely dim.
All the windows were covered by thick curtains, letting in not a single ray of light.
Only a faint lamp illuminated the space.
The air was filled with the smell of medicinal herbs.
Ma Jun felt that once he entered the room, the decaying aura grew even heavier.
He narrowed his eyes.
Inside the room sat a thin, emaciated figure, hunched and frail, quietly seated on a prayer cushion.
Behind that figure stood a statue of Guan Yu.
The imposing, heroic Guan the Second Lord raised his Green Dragon Crescent Blade, eyes blazing like lightning, his presence vivid and lifelike.
Ma Jun glanced at it and couldn't help praising inwardly.
What craftsmanship!
He'd seen plenty of crude clay-and-gold-plated Bodhisattva statues before.
But in terms of sculpting skill, none of them came close to this one.
Especially the eyes—
They were practically glowing in the dark room, crackling with energy.
"Cough, cough…"
A weak, dry cough sounded.
Zhuang Xin stared at the figure for several seconds before exclaiming in shock,
"Mr. Lin?!"
"It really is you!"
"How did you end up like this?!"
Snap!
A small flame flickered to life before the figure.
Though as weak as a bean-sized spark, it illuminated the man's gaunt face.
This was an extremely frail old man—pale as paper, features sunken, looking as if he might die at any moment.
From Zhuang Xin's reaction, it was obvious.
This man was the client of the commission—
The famous Lin family patriarch of Harbor Island's nethercraft lineage, the grand feng shui master Lin Fengqian.
Lin Fengqian slowly lifted his heavy eyelids. The deep bags under his eyes looked so swollen they could crush flies.
He forced out a feeble smile.
"So it's you, Xin girl."
"What—Jingming, that old bastard, didn't dare come himself, so he sent you here to die instead?"
"He really doesn't know how to cherish jade and treasure."
"If you die here, the number of women on Harbor Island rated above E will drop by one."
Zhuang Xin snorted coldly.
"Bah, what nonsense are you spouting!"
"Look at yourself—half-dead already—and you still think you can land a curse technique on me?"
"Heh heh—cough cough cough…"
Lin Fengqian erupted into another fit of violent coughing.
Laughing, he said,
"You'd better hurry back. Jingming can come if he wants, or not come if he doesn't. There's no need to drag you down with me."
At that moment, Ma Jun stepped forward.
"Mr. Lin, I received your commission from Daoist Jingming."
"If you've encountered any trouble, you can tell me."
Lin Fengqian squinted.
"Hm?"
His gaze slowly focused, settling on Ma Jun.
Suddenly, his expression changed.
"Ridiculous—how could Jingming send a brat like you here? That old fool must be getting senile."
"I swear, living to this age has turned him into a dog!"
"I'm from the Criminal Investigation Bureau," Ma Jun said calmly.
"Criminal Investigation Bureau?"
Lin Fengqian let out a mocking laugh.
"The Criminal Investigation Bureau is just a bunch of weaklings. Good with words, useless with their hands."
"I'm the Superintendent of the Criminal Investigation Bureau," Ma Jun continued.
"This is my ID."
Lin Fengqian's voice cut off abruptly.
He stared at Ma Jun like a duck whose neck had been grabbed.
"You? Superintendent?"
"Do you think I've been coughing myself half to death lately just so you could tell me a joke?"
Zhuang Xin burst out laughing.
"He really is—the Superintendent of the Criminal Investigation Bureau, Sir Ma. Even the people from the Criminal Division have to salute him."
"And just now at our Aberrant Association, he comprehended the Spirit-Linked Sword Codex with a single glance!"
Clatter!
The cup beside Lin Fengqian was knocked to the ground by his trembling hand.
"Y-you… you…"
He stammered for a long while before barely managing to speak again.
"Just one look—and you comprehended the Spirit-Linked Sword Codex?"
"Could it be that you're—cough cough…"
Lin Fengqian seemed to have more to say, but forcibly swallowed the words.
"Good! Good!"
His demeanor underwent a complete one-eighty.
"Sir Ma is willing to help me—truly a blessing earned over three lifetimes!"
The old man suddenly looked far more spirited than before.
"Come, come—please sit."
Ma Jun and Zhuang Xin sat down on the prayer cushions in front of him.
Now that he was closer, Ma Jun could feel that decaying aura even more clearly.
It seemed the eccentric old man before him probably didn't have much time left.
"…That's right.
Cough, cough… Being able to see you before I die, Sir Ma… that's truly wonderful…"
Lin Fengqian spoke with a trace of relief and nostalgia. In his clouded eyes, it seemed as though some distant memory had resurfaced.
That look made Ma Jun feel distinctly uncomfortable.
Something wasn't right—normally, people who looked at him like that were aunties, weren't they?
What was going on with this old man?!
Fortunately, that easily misunderstood gaze didn't linger for long.
"Sir Ma… the reason I asked Daoist Jingming to come this time was because I wanted him to protect my family…"
"Mr. Lin," Ma Jun said calmly, "if you've encountered anything, please explain it in detail."
Lin Fengqian let out a long sigh.
With a hint of regret, he began:
"This matter… must start with the nethercraft paper-doll arts passed down in our Lin family."
"When I was young and full of vigor, I believed my nethercraft was unrivaled under heaven. With just my own hands, I revived the Lin family. I was so arrogant it bordered on madness."
"At that time, I received help from a benefactor, allowing my nethercraft to advance another step."
"And it was then… that I conceived the idea of giving eyes to the Eight Sufferings paper effigies."
"Giving eyes?" Ma Jun asked, puzzled.
"Yes!"
Lin Fengqian's voice rose several notches, as if he had returned to those heady, ambitious years.
"My Lin family passed down the Eight Sufferings Nethercraft!"
"Birth, aging, sickness, death."
"Unfulfilled desire, resentment from forced association, separation from loved ones, and the excess of the five aggregates!"
Every type of nethercraft paper effigy had only a face—never eyes.
Back then, intoxicated by my own power, I felt that techniques in my hands were as easy as reaching out a hundred-foot pole.
And so… I conceived the idea of giving them eyes.
"Today, upon seeing Sir Ma, I shall demonstrate it for you!"
"The Eight Sufferings of Life—First Suffering!"
Ma Jun froze slightly.
First suffering?
That sounded… very familiar.
The moment the words fell, a gust of wind suddenly rose inside the room!
From the corners came a dense, whispering murmur that echoed eerily.
In that instant, countless images flashed through Ma Jun's mind!
Ten years of life and death—both blurred.
Red silk hands, yellow vine wine.
One kind of longing, shared sorrow in two distant places.
The pain of separation he had endured in a previous life.
Those hundreds of ex-girlfriends.
The moment he lost his parents…
All of it surged into his heart at the same time.
An overwhelming wave of grief exploded within him, so intense that his subconscious wanted to scream hysterically—
To fall to his knees and wail.
"Hng!"
At that moment, a sharp sword hum rang out by his ears!
Sword Heart Clarity!
Ma Jun's eyes snapped open, instantly lucid. In truth, not even a second had passed.
Looking to the side, Zhuang Xin was already in tears, sobbing uncontrollably.
Ahead of them, Lin Fengqian nodded approvingly at Ma Jun, his gaze filled with consolation.
Ma Jun suddenly felt a strange, icy Yin aura ripple beside him.
He tilted his head slightly—and then noticed it.
A deathly pale face stood not far from him, staring fixedly at him.
"Ah!"
Goosebumps erupted across Ma Jun's body.
That face was beautiful like a peach blossom, its figure alluring beyond measure.
But—
It was a paper effigy!
If one didn't look carefully, it was nearly indistinguishable from a real person.
Especially those phoenix-like eyes—vivid beyond belief.
"This is…"
Ma Jun frowned.
"That's right—this is one of the Eight Sufferings: Separation from Loved Ones!"
"It's also the first paper effigy I ever gave eyes to."
Lin Fengqian sighed deeply.
"When my wife passed away before me, my heart was torn apart. In the pouring rain, I gave eyes to this paper effigy."
"That was the greatest regret of my entire life."
As he finished speaking, he beckoned gently toward the paper effigy of Separation.
"Come."
Whoosh!
The nethercraft paper figure left behind a faint afterimage and appeared instantly beside Lin Fengqian.
As it moved, massive Yin energy surged outward, dropping the surrounding temperature.
Lin Fengqian picked up a dagger and slashed open his own arm.
Fresh, crimson blood poured out.
Ma Jun watched in shock as the paper effigy actively leaned in—
And began gulping down Lin Fengqian's blood in huge mouthfuls!
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