Yu Zhengyuan was still babbling on and on.
"In Lotus Pond, there is a stone Buddha almost as tall as the beam's height. When I went to see Mr. Dai, he had already finished worshiping the Buddha. Finishing the Buddhist practice so early definitely lives up to the word devout."
Mr. Dai exhaled a puff of smoke and said with a smile, "It's also a coincidence that I got up early today. Just as you came in, I had just finished washing away the sweat. It's quite hot now, and one can sweat profusely from worshiping... On a normal day, you might have had to wait outside for an extra hour."
"Mr. Dai, you flatter me. Having the chance to wait for you is my, Xiao Yu's, good fortune."
Zhou Xuan was tired of listening to Yu Zhengyuan droning on incessantly.
Eldest senior brother,
Do you realize that you've just dodged a bullet at death's door?
That washing Mr. Dai did was not to clean off the sweat from worshiping the Buddha but to rinse off the blood that stained him after committing a murder.
Blood is thick and sticky, and once it's on you, the smell lasts. Even after a thorough washing, the scent lingers slightly.
As for whom Mr. Dai killed?
It was that "frequenc- changing" Qing Lian.
The last entry written down by Qing Lian in Zhou Xuan's notebook was just a few minutes before Yu Zhengyuan and Mr. Dai left the Dai Mansion.
According to the distance within Dai Mansion, Zhou Xuan estimated that just as Yu Zhengyuan's back foot entered Lotus Pond, Mr. Dai's front foot had just "taken care of" Qing Lian.
Had Yu Zhengyuan entered Dai Mansion slightly earlier and stumbled upon Mr. Dai's "good deed," in order to keep things under wraps, Mr. Dai would probably have had to take the head of his eldest senior brother.
Don't let the size fool you; even though the eldest senior brother is taller and younger, if it really came down to it, he would definitely be no match for Mr. Dai.
The reason Zhou Xuan made such a deduction was related to the composition of "Qing Lian."
If Qing Lian at the time she was harmed was a living person, her soul couldn't possibly have left her body, let alone wander to the car and write on Zhou Xuan's notebook.
But if Qing Lian was merely an Evil Ghost, the blood scent on Mr. Dai wouldn't make sense.
If Qing Lian is neither alive nor an Evil Ghost, then what could she be?
A corpse!
Zhou Xuan suspected that it was the blood-stained corpse of "Qing Lian" that Mr. Dai handled.
And he dealt with the body just to kill Qing Lian's soul!
It sounds curious—
Once a soul leaves the body, it has little to do with the corpse.
The soul is the soul,
And the corpse is the corpse,
Two things that flow out from one's shell.
To be able to eradicate the ghost that has already wandered outside Dai Mansion by dealing with the corpse—this is something ordinary people can't do.
Mr. Dai is definitely a ruthless character with spiritual abilities, not someone ordinary.
Yu Zhengyuan is far from being his match.
Think about it; it's also good luck that he had that bowl of tofu brains on the road. If it weren't for that, Yu Zhengyuan would have entered Dai Mansion earlier and then...
Eldest senior brother, your life was saved by that bowl of tofu brains!
...
There were about four or five miles left to the Corridor Bridge,
Mr. Dai and Yu Zhengyuan were getting along better and better—who doesn't love chatting with someone who endlessly praises them?
Just as Mr. Dai was getting more and more enthusiastic, gesticulating dramatically as if on the verge of flying out of the rolled-down car window, in the blink of an eye, his energy seemed to deflate.
He leaned to the side, listless.
Mr. Dai appeared to be using the last of his strength to instruct Yu Zhengyuan.
"Xiao Yu, I woke up too early today and now feel a bit tired. I'm going to take a quick nap."
With that, he closed his eyes.
Yu Zhengyuan knew how to act. He had Zhou Xuan pull over the car and took out a silk quilting from the trunk, gently covering Mr. Dai's lower abdomen.
Look at that,
You can sleep anywhere you like,
But covering your navel is the final act of stubbornness for our people.
The car started up again, and Yu Zhengyuan was also tired; it was mental exhaustion from scraping the bottom of the barrel to come up with words of flattery, a task of considerable intensity.
"Xiao Xuan, just follow this road straight ahead. When you see the stone bridge, you'll be at the place. I'm going to lie down for a while."
"Mhm," Zhou Xuan responded, thinking that it finally got quiet around him.
On the road, Mr. Dai really loved to show off and brag, but he didn't do it directly, always beating around the bush—
Yu Zhengyuan followed suit, trying to find angles to kiss up—what a vulgar flatterer!
These two were really getting on Zhou Xuan's nerves.
Even though it was in one ear and out the other for him, and the chatter barely simmered in his mind, the water that had simmered still had a taste to it.
Mental contamination requires time to heal.
But obviously, Yu Zhengyuan didn't want to give it time. No sooner had he closed his eyes than he began to snore.
The noise was thunderous.
Zhou Xuan wanted to wake him up for being too loud, but more importantly, he was worried that the snoring might damage his diaphragm.
"Wanting some peace and quiet is so difficult."
Zhou Xuan reached into the car door and pulled out a pack of "Lao Dao," lighting one up.
Each Lao Dao cigarette held its own story—Lu Xun.
"Whoosh!"
Zhou Xuan exhaled the smoke. He felt much better, but when he was flicking the ashes outside the car, he casually glanced at the rearview mirror and noticed Mr. Dai's hand moving.
This old bastard,
wasn't asleep,
pretending?
Zhou Xuan secretly sneered. Just then, in the rearview mirror, the distorted face of Mr. Dai caught his attention.
Twisted, forehead sweating cold sweat, ears twitching,
many symptoms,
Zhou Xuan was all too familiar with them.
White noise!
Mr. Dai was also troubled by white noise, Zhou Xuan was sure of it.
It's like those patients who suffer from chronic diseases like diabetes, rheumatoid arthritis, could tell from strangers' gait and demeanor who else was a fellow sufferer.
When patients meet patients, what they love to do most is to discuss their conditions.
Fearful that the treatment plan provided by the quacks they met was off the mark.
But the fellow patient was Mr. Dai,
a ruthless man stained with fresh blood.
Communicating with such a person is tantamount to seeking skin from a tiger.
Observing secretly,
Paying close attention,
Zhou Xuan was very cautious,
just as he was dividing his attention and watching Mr. Dai's distorted and fierce face.
Suddenly, Mr. Dai opened his eyes, his expression turned benevolent, his spirit recovered, and his eyes locked onto Zhou Xuan's in the rearview mirror.
Two pairs of eyes met in a small mirror.
Even with his thick skin, Zhou Xuan felt somewhat embarrassed, but he didn't plan to hide or tease. He took the initiative.
"Mr. Dai, did you feel unwell just now?"
"An old problem, I get weary easily. When I'm tired, my heartbeat accelerates, and my vision becomes blurry. Just need to rest a bit and I'll be fine. But you..."
"Me…"
Mr. Dai fished out a well-crafted wallet from his pocket, opened it, and took out a business card to hand to Zhou Xuan: "You should go see her the next few days. She might have some insights into your condition."
"Illness? I'm not sick, I'm in good health."
"Have you been hearing… strange murmurs lately?"
Buzz.
Zhou Xuan felt an electric current coursing through him, leaving his body tingling wherever it traveled.
If Zhou Xuan's judgment that Mr. Dai was troubled by white noise was drawn from the physical symptoms Mr. Dai exhibited when afflicted,
What did Mr. Dai rely on to deduce that Zhou Xuan was suffering from the same trouble?
"I'm not sick either."
Zhou Xuan thought to himself and became suspicious that Mr. Dai was trying to deceive him. Why deceive him, with what motive?
He did not give it much thought, almost reflexively rejecting Mr. Dai: "Strange murmurs? I haven't heard anything like that..."
Hehe,
Mr. Dai chuckled, but he didn't continue to argue with Zhou Xuan. He simply placed the business card in the car door and said, "Young man, if you're ill, you should seek treatment early. Delays could lead to regret... Are we at the Corridor Bridge yet?"