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

The moment the incense ash fell, the main hall became as quiet as if someone had choked it.

On the offering table, two memorial tablets stand side by side.

[Memorial Tablet of Chen Daoheng]

Memorial Tablet for Lin Qinghe of the Chen Family

Chen Bufan stood in front of the offering table, remaining motionless for a long time.

For more than 20 years, his master never told him the whole story.

Every time he asked, his master would remain silent, and then say one sentence:

"Some names, if pronounced too early, can bring bad luck."

Chen Bufan didn't understand this before.

Now he understands.

Some names are not names at all.

It's fate.

It's an old story.

It was blood that hadn't been completely burned off in over twenty years.

Lin Wanqing stood to the side, not disturbing him.

She just stared at the incense burner.

The three incense sticks have burned out.

The incense ash still stood in the incense burner, its tip tinged with a dark red.

It's not completely cooled ash.

She put on gloves and reached her hand close to the edge of the incense burner.

And temperature.

Chen Bufan remained silent.

Lin Wanqing immediately took a half step back and swept her flashlight around.

The main hall was covered in dust.

The charred beams.

The screen is half collapsed.

There were also broken tiles in the corner.

In places like this, anyone who walks by will inevitably leave a trace.

She crouched down and shone her flashlight on the ground.

really.

On the dust in front of the offering table, there was a row of shallow footprints.

The footprints were messy.

But you can tell it's one person.

The soles of the shoes are very old.

The stride is not long.

The left foot drags a little harder than the right foot.

Like a person whose legs and feet are not very good when walking.

Lin Wanqing lowered her voice:

"elder."

"Or you have an old injury on your leg."

She looked towards the doorway again.

"They came in through the main entrance."

There were no signs of someone climbing through the window.

"The door lock wasn't damaged either."

"This means that this person knows how to enter the Chen family ancestral home."

Chen Bufan finally looked up.

His gaze did not fall on the footprints.

Instead, it landed on the offering table.

Besides the memorial tablet, incense burner, and white candles, there were three other things placed there.

A bowl of clear water.

The three sticks of incense had already burned out.

There is also an old copper buckle.

The water is very clear.

The bowl is an ordinary white porcelain bowl.

A small piece is missing from the edge.

The three incense sticks were placed perfectly straight.

Not slanted or slanted.

The incense sticks should be placed with the base facing inwards, so the ash will not scatter.

The old copper button was placed next to the bowl of water.

It has oxidized and darkened.

It looks like it was taken from an old piece of clothing from many years ago.

Lin Wanqing noticed it too.

"What is this?"

Chen Bufan reached out and picked up the copper clasp.

The brass buckle is very light.

The edges are severely worn.

A small character "陈" is engraved on it.

It's not the kind of machine engraving commonly seen nowadays.

It was carved by hand.

crooked and crooked.

But it is very deep.

Chen Bufan looked at the bronze buckle, his eyes flickering slightly.

He remembered something his master had once said.

"The Chen family's old house has strict rules."

"Servants from other families serving the priest should not burn paper money or offer meat."

Only three items are available.

"A bowl of clear water symbolizes not forgetting one's roots."

"Three sticks of incense symbolize our unwavering loyalty to our lord."

"An old button signifies that I am still a member of the Chen family."

Chen Bufan was still young at that time.

I laughed after hearing it.

He said, "What era are we living in? Do we still have old servants?"

Master did not laugh at that time.

I just patted his head.

People's hearts can easily drift apart.

"But some people can never truly part ways."

Chen Bufan slowly tightened his grip on the copper clasp.

Lin Wanqing noticed that something was wrong with his expression.

"Do you recognize this?"

Chen Bufan lowered his voice slightly.

"This is the custom of the Chen family's former servants when they worship their master."

"So the people who just came weren't enemies?"

Chen Bufan looked at the bowl of clear water.

"At least, it didn't harm my parents."

Lin Wanqing frowned.

"Are there still any old servants living in the Chen family?"

Chen Bufan did not answer immediately.

But the voice from that phone call kept replaying in my mind.

old.

hoarse.

It's like a long-standing wound hidden in the lungs.

—Young man from the Chen family, you've finally run into them.

—The person who owed your Chen family a life back then.

Chen Lao Jiu.

The person who refused to show his face and only reminded him over the phone.

The person who knew the Chen family, knew about the Fate-Changing Technique, and also knew his master and father.

Chen Bufan looked down at the old copper buckle in his hand.

Suddenly, I remembered someone.

"Uncle Jiu".

His voice wasn't loud.

Yet its sound traveled far in the empty main hall.

"Since you're here..."

"Why can't you see me?"

Lin Wanqing instantly became alert.

She stood up straight, her hands already on her waist.

There was no response from inside the main hall.

Only the white lanterns outside swayed gently in the wind.

The lamplight cast shadows through the doorway.

One at a time.

Like a dead person blinking.

Lin Wanqing whispered:

Are you sure he's still there?

Chen Bufan looked towards the back of the main hall.

There is a door leading to the inner courtyard.

It was pitch black behind the door.

When you shine a flashlight over it, most of the light is swallowed up.

"The incense hasn't gotten cold."

"They haven't gone far."

Lin Wanqing immediately raised her flashlight.

"Uncle Jiu".

"I am Lin Wanqing from the Criminal Investigation Detachment of Haicheng Public Security Bureau."

"We meant no harm."

"If you are here, please come out and explain the situation."

Her voice was crisp and clear, carrying the distinctive pressure of a criminal police officer.

But in the darkness, no one answered.

Chen Bufan took a step forward.

The wooden planks underfoot creaked slightly.

"Call me."

"Put your life money at my doorstep."

"Lead me back to my ancestral home."

"I'm back now."

"Why are you hiding now?"

After those words were spoken, there was finally some movement deep within the ancestral home.

First came a very soft cough.

"cough……"

"Cough cough..."

The voice was very suppressed.

It's like someone is covering their mouth, trying not to cough.

But that feeling was too old, too hurtful, and couldn't be suppressed.

Lin Wanqing immediately drew her gun, gripped it with both hands, and lowered the muzzle.

A few more coughs came from the darkness.

Then came the sound of a cane tapping the ground.

笃.

笃.

笃.

very slow.

Each drop was heavier than the last.

Chen Bufan did not move.

He simply stood before his parents' memorial tablets, staring into the shadows.

A moment later, a hunched old man came out from behind the main hall.

The old man was very thin.

He was as thin as a piece of firewood that had almost burned out.

His gray hair was messy and stuck to his scalp, and his face was deeply lined.

He was wearing a faded old cloth shirt with a black jacket over it.

A copper button, missing half, was sewn onto the collar of the jacket.

It's exactly the same as the one on the altar.

His left leg was noticeably weak, as if he had suffered a severe injury that hadn't fully healed.

With each step, the body tilts slightly to the left.

He was leaning on an old wooden cane.

Those eyes, however, were very bright.

Sharpness lies hidden within turbidity.

Like an oil lamp that's about to go out, the wick is still desperately trying to keep the last bit of fire burning.

Lin Wanqing slightly raised the muzzle of her gun.

"stop."

The old man stopped.

He didn't look at Lin Wanqing.

He didn't even look at the gun in her hand.

He just looked at Chen Bufan.

Looked for a long time.

My eyes slowly reddened.

Then, he loosened his cane and bent down shakily.

He bowed deeply to Chen Bufan.

"Young Master."

His voice was so hoarse it was almost unrecognizable.

"You shouldn't have come back so early."