A single divination predicts life and death; the entire internet begs me to start a live stream.

The moment the white lanterns lit up, the entire Chenjia Village seemed to be awakened by something.

In the distance, a dog suddenly barked in the previously silent village.

First one or two cries came, then the whole village echoed with them.

From one end of the village to the other, all the dogs seemed to have seen something dirty at the same time, barking wildly in the direction of the Chen family's ancestral home.

"Woof! Woof! Woof!"

The cry tore through the thick fog.

It was quickly swallowed back by the fog.

Even with Lin Wanqing's strong mental fortitude, she couldn't help but feel a little scared.

She instinctively took a half step back, her right hand already touching her waist.

"Isn't this village deserted?"

Chen Bufan stood in front of the door, without moving.

He looked at the white lantern.

The pale light fell on his face, making his eyebrows and eyes look cold.

The line of black characters on the lantern paper is still there.

[The remnants of the Chen family returned home to offer incense.]

The handwriting looked as if it had just been written with ink.

The ink is very dark.

Yet it exuded a decaying, gloomy aura.

Lin Wanqing took out her phone and turned on the camera.

"Let me take a picture."

She is a criminal police officer.

No matter how bizarre the situation may seem, the first reaction is still to gather evidence.

But as soon as the phone camera was pointed at the ancestral home's gate, Lin Wanqing's hand suddenly stopped.

On the screen.

A blurry figure stood at the entrance of the Chen family ancestral home.

The person was standing under the white lantern.

She is very thin.

Head down.

Like wearing an old long gown.

But when Lin Wanqing looked up with her naked eye, there was nothing at the doorway.

Only Chen Bufan.

Only white lanterns.

Only the old gatehouse, blackened by fire, remains.

She looked down at her phone again.

The figure was still there.

Not moving at all.

They were standing about half a step inside the gate.

Lin Wanqing's back was covered in cold sweat.

"Chen Bufan".

She lowered her voice.

There are people in the shot.

Chen Bufan did not turn around.

"I know."

Lin Wanqing frowned.

"Invisible to the naked eye."

So don't come near.

Chen Bufan pointed to the gate.

"Especially avoid stepping on the threshold."

Lin Wanqing looked at the threshold of the Chen family's ancestral home.

The threshold is made of old wood.

Half of it was already burnt black.

There are cracks on the edges.

There are many dark marks embedded in the wood grain.

She had initially thought those were scorch marks from a fire.

Now, when I shone a flashlight on it, I realized something was wrong.

Those aren't scorch marks.

is blood.

Very old blood.

It's so black it's seeped into the wood, like it can't be washed off no matter how hard you try.

Lin Wanqing lowered her voice slightly.

"Why can't we step on it?"

Chen Bufan finally turned to look at her.

The stark white light illuminated his profile.

Half of his face was deathly pale, and the other half was dark, giving him an eerie appearance.

"Outsiders are no longer allowed to enter the Chen family's house."

Lin Wanqing looked at him.

Why?

Chen Bufan looked down at the old bloodstains on the threshold.

After a long silence, he finally spoke.

"Because so many people died here back then."

Lin Wanqing did not speak again.

She has seen many crime scenes.

Murder.

Dismemberment.

Arson.

He fell from the building.

But at this moment, standing at the entrance of the Chen family's ancestral home, she unexpectedly felt a long-lost sense of oppression.

It doesn't smell like blood.

It's not scary.

But every brick and every piece of wood here remembers that fire.

Remember those who didn't have time to escape.

Chen Bufan took a step forward.

The white lantern swayed gently.

The wind didn't move.

The lantern swayed.

The pale light inside shone on the broken life-saving coin in his hand.

The coin was split in two.

The cut is sharp.

The sentence is engraved on the back:

To find out how the Chen family died, go back to their ancestral home.

Chen Bufan reached out and put the two halves of the money together.

The crack is facing upwards.

But they couldn't be joined together.

It's like a life that's been severed, and can never be put back together.

Lin Wanqing asked in a low voice:

"Whose money is this?"

Chen Bufan said:

"have no idea."

"Does everyone in the Chen family have one?"

"Only fortune tellers possess this skill."

"Does that mean there were other fortune tellers besides your master back then?"

Chen Bufan looked at the broken money in his hand.

"It's also possible that someone died here."

He walked to the gate.

The brass rings on the door were rusted.

The door panel was charred black.

Below the copper ring, there is a very small groove.

The groove shape is exactly the same size as the coin.

Lin Wanqing frowned when she saw this detail.

"Was this a government office before?"

Chen Bufan said:

"The Chen family doesn't accept keys."

"Money to accept one's fate."

As he spoke, he placed the broken coin into the groove under the copper ring.

The money had just been inserted.

From deep within the gate, a very low sound suddenly came.

Click.

Like a lock that had been sealed for over twenty years, it was finally opened from the inside.

Lin Wanqing immediately took a half step back and placed her hand on her waist.

The door panel did not move immediately.

Instead, the old bloodstains on the threshold, as if awakened by the light, faintly glowed dark red.

The white lanterns swayed even more violently.

The barking of the dogs in the village became even fiercer at that moment.

Chen Bufan stood in front of the door, bowed, and made a gesture of respect.

"The 73rd generation fortune teller of the Chen family."

"Chen Bufan".

"Returning home."

The words fell.

boom.

The gate of the Chen family ancestral home slowly opened.

It wasn't blown away by the wind.

It wasn't that I was pushed away.

The two charred wooden doors seemed to be pulled open from the inside by an unseen hand.

A blast of cold air rushed in from the crack in the door.

It had a smell of ashes.

Smell of old wood.

There was also a very faint scent of incense.

Lin Wanqing also sensed that something was wrong.

"Is someone burning incense inside?"

Chen Bufan stood up.

"Let's go in and take a look."

He stepped across the threshold.

This time, the threshold was no obstacle.

Lin Wanqing stood outside the door, hesitating for a moment.

Chen Bufan didn't turn around, he only said:

"Step on my footprints."

Lin Wanqing glanced at the old bloodstains on the threshold.

Then, carefully avoiding the threshold, he stepped into the spot where Chen Bufan had just stood.

The ancestral home was colder and more gloomy than the outside.

The yard is very large.

Weeds grew wildly.

Collapsed wooden beams were piled up in the corner.

In many places, traces of the fire can still be seen.

The blue brick wall was blackened by smoke.

Half of the eaves collapsed.

The pillars have deep cracks, as if they have been licked by flames and gnawed by the years.

Lin Wanqing continued filming with her phone.

The camera pans across the courtyard.

everything is normal.

But when she pointed the camera at the main hall, her phone screen suddenly flickered.

The figure reappeared.

This time, not at the door.

Inside the main hall.

He kept his head down.

It was as if they were being guided.

Lin Wanqing whispered:

"It went in."

Chen Bufan looked at the main hall.

"It's not that."

"What is that?"

Chen Bufan did not answer.

He walked straight to the main hall.

The main hall door was open.

Blackened sawdust was scattered on the ground in front of the door.

There should have been couplets hanging on both sides, but the paper had long since rotted, leaving only half of the black and red remnants.

On the remaining edge, a few words can still be vaguely discerned.

[Predicting fate does not change it]

[Preserve the cause, do not seize the cause]

Lin Wanqing glanced at it.

"Is this a rule of the Chen family?"

Chen Bufan nodded.

"Um."

He continued walking inside.

The main hall was very dark.

When you shine a flashlight inside, the light seems to be blocked by something, and it can't shine very far.

As soon as Lin Wanqing stepped inside, she smelled a very strong incense scent.

I thought it was my imagination. This is clearly not the taste from twenty years ago.

It's new.

Freshly burned incense.

She remained highly vigilant.

"Someone has been here."

Chen Bufan remained silent.

His gaze had already fallen on the innermost part of the main hall.

There was an offering table there.

The offering table is very old.

The edges and corners were charred.

The desktop had been wiped clean.

There is no ash.

There are three things on the table.

An incense burner.

Two white candles.

There are also two memorial tablets.

Three incense sticks were inserted into the incense burner.

The incense has burned out.

The ash wasn't completely cold yet.

The white candle had just been extinguished, and the wax was still soft.

This indicates that the person who lit the incense left not long ago.

"At most half an hour."

Lin Wanqing took a step closer and looked at the two memorial tablets.

The next second, she paused.

"Chen Bufan..."

Chen Bufan stood in front of the offering table, as if he were nailed to the spot.

Two memorial tablets were placed side by side.

It says on the left:

[The Memorial Tablet of Chen Daoheng]

It says on the right:

Memorial Tablet for Lin Qinghe of the Chen Family

Lin Wanqing asked in a low voice:

"This is……"

Chen Bufan looked at the two names.

He remained silent for a long time.

He never knew his parents' full names.

Master rarely mentions it.

Whenever asked, the master would only say:

"You will know when the time is right."

I've been searching for this for so many years.

just now.

He found out.

It's easy to know.

Chen Daoheng.

Lin Qinghe.

His father.

His mother.

The memorial tablets of the two were placed conspicuously in the main hall of the Chen family's ancestral home after it was burned down.

The incense in front of the memorial tablet had just finished burning.

In other words, someone had been here before he returned.

Someone offered incense to his parents.

Someone knew he would definitely come tonight.

Lin Wanqing's hand slowly moved towards the pistol at her waist.

"That person might not have gone far."

Chen Bufan did not move.

He simply looked at his parents' memorial tablets and said nothing more.

Just then.

The last bit of incense ash in the incense burner on the offering table suddenly broke off.

Snapped.

Incense ash fell.

Behind the incense burner, a piece of yellow paper was visible.

On the yellow paper, a line of words was written in cinnabar.

Before his death, Chen Daoheng met with Lu Changsheng.