Chapter 30 Part 1: Dreams of Yellow Earth

Yang Mao and Yang Wei sat side by side on the porch steps outside the study.

The study door was shut tight, so they couldn’t tell how the conversation inside was going.

 

Yang Mao sighed.

“Master looked really serious.

I hope everything’s okay?”

 

Yang Wei, wearing earphones and listening to an English passage, said, “It will be.”

 

Meanwhile, inside the study.

 

Qianyang looked at the man across from her on the sofa, her expression unreadable.

The study was on the far right of the first floor, close to the woods.

Trees blocked the light, making the room dark and damp.

 

Song Yunli sat on the sofa, a cup of cold tea in front of him.

 

“Master Qianyang looks like she has something to say,” Song Yunli said.

“…You’re raising ghosts?”

Qianyang asked.

 

Song Yunli’s expression didn’t change.

He crooked his finger slightly in the air, and the short, dark shadow clinging to him immediately moved closer.

He stroked its head as if no one else were there.

“It’s rarely this quiet.

It must be because it’s afraid of you.”

 

To be honest, people who could coexist so harmoniously with vengeful spirits were rare in any era.

 

“How did they die?”

Qianyang asked.

 

The heavy yin energy on Song Yunli must be partly due to these two vengeful spirits.

 

Song Yunli lowered his eyes and asked instead of answering, “Will knowing affect what you need to do?”

 

Qianyang pressed her lips.

“Did I not introduce myself?”

 

“My name is Qianyang.

I am the thirty-third generation head of the Qian school.

The thirty-one generations before me and my master all made a living by catching ghosts and eliminating spirits.”

 

Even after death, they still worked on reaping souls.

 

Song Yunli said, “My name is Song Yunli.

I am the sole direct heir of the Song family.

Before me, the Song family made a living through commerce for generations.”

“…No wonder you can see ghosts with the naked eye.”

 

Qianyang reminded him, “So you’d better tell the truth.

Otherwise, I’ll have to go back to my old line of work.”

 

Song Yunli gave an indifferent smile.

“Yes, I do raise ghosts.

The two right in front of you.”

 

“How did they die?”

 

“Buried alive.”

Song Yunli’s lips parted slightly as he calmly uttered the two words.

 

Qianyang’s expression flickered.

Burial alive was an extremely cruel and painful way to die, often causing the victim to perish in endless fear and despair.

These types of souls were also the most prone to generating resentment.

 

“Time of death?”

 

“Twenty-three years ago.”

 

Qianyang’s brow furrowed deeply.

That meant the vengeful spirits had been wandering this house for twenty-three years.

They had probably been clinging to Song Yunli for just as long.

No wonder he had managed to survive this long!

 

“How old were they when they died?”

 

Song Yunli answered every question.

“Thirty-one and under two.”

 

Qianyang looked at the two shadows beside him.

“…Mother and son?”

 

“Yes.”

Song Yunli’s expression remained calm.

 

“And your relationship to them?”

 

Song Yunli’s long lashes trembled slightly.

He pressed his lips.

“My mother and my younger brother.”

 

Though she had already guessed, Qianyang was still shaken.

 

She remembered viewers once saying that Song Yunli came from a wealthy family that had been established for over a hundred years, with deep pockets, capable of controlling Taihang City.

 

As the sole direct heir of such a family, why would his mother and brother suffer such a fate?

If anyone could have done this to them, it would have to be people from the Song family itself.

 

No wonder he had dug up nineteen ancestral graves, disturbing the entire family line.

 

Qianyang couldn’t help but feel a pang.

“Letting them linger in the world as vengeful spirits isn’t a good thing.”

 

Song Yunli was silent for a moment, as if surprised by her words.

He said with a hint of surprise, “I thought you would take them away.”

 

Qianyang asked sincerely, “Can I?”

 

Song Yunli smiled bitterly.

“Sorry, I hope you won’t.

I only need five years.

I won’t let them affect anyone else.

After five years, I’ll leave with them.”

 

Qianyang nodded.

Song Yunli’s connection to the two vengeful spirits was too deep.

Apart from special measures, only his own death could pacify them.

 

“Having said that.”

Qianyang rubbed her nose.

“Ghost-catching isn’t really my jurisdiction.”

 

“Let’s get down to business.

You have a doomed appearance.

Something must have temporarily blocked your death calamity for you.”

 

Song Yunli smiled and took off a jade pendant from his waist.

“This.”

 

Qianyang took the pendant.

It felt cold to the touch.

She examined it carefully and sighed.

“This pendant must be quite old?

Using it to block your death calamity—if it breaks, you won’t live three days.”

 

Song Yunli said, “It has already broken once.”

 

Suddenly, Qianyang remembered something.

Her pupils widened slightly.

“That jade bow?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Qianyang: “…”

This man didn’t value his life at all.

He had lent her something so important without a second thought.

 

“Master, I’d like to ask, what exactly is the method you mentioned for extending my lifespan by a few years?”

 

Qianyang shook the jade pendant in her hand.

“Similar to this.

Temporarily covering your fate chart with my fortune should be enough to extend your life by five years.”

 

“What do you need me to do?”

Song Yunli asked.

 

Qianyang said, “Nothing.

I just need to lend you my luck.”

 

This was the “luck-borrowing” method, similar to “life-borrowing.”

But the price of the latter was lighter than the former.

 

Hearing this, Song Yunli visibly paused for two seconds.

“Borrow luck?”

 

He frowned.

“Will it affect you?”

 

Qianyang said, “I know what I’m doing.

The impact is minimal.

However, during this time, you can’t let your fate chart experience large fluctuations, such as forming overly close relationships with others.”

 

Song Yunli asked, “Meaning…”

“You can’t get married, can’t have children…

In short, most things related to these two things.”

 

Song Yunli smiled.

“I understand.”

 

These two restrictions were relatively easy for him.

 

Qianyang looked away.

“…Of course, I am not included in others.’”

Song Yunli was startled.

“…Yes.”

 

The small, dark shadow lying on his lap raised its head, as if curiously looking between the two of them.

 

After a moment of silence, Song Yunli asked, “Do I need to go to the Daoist temple on Little Qian Mountain?

I heard Fang Lie say that everyone you help needs to go there to build a wall and fulfill a vow.”

 

“Not you,” Qianyang said.

 

With his condition, if he went up the mountain, he probably wouldn’t make it back down.

The Qian ancestors would skin him alive and then scold Qianyang for being “bewitched.”

 

Song Yunli lowered his eyes, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly.

“Master, please begin.”

 

What Qianyang was about to do wasn’t exactly the same as luck-borrowing.

With the existing jade pendant, she could simply split it in two and create a yin-yang talisman—one half yang, one half yin, yin and yang interlocking, reversing heaven and earth.

Yin steals, yang nourishes, achieving the effect of borrowing luck and covering.

 

Still, completing these tasks would take considerable time.

They spent almost the entire noon inside the room without coming out.

The butler and the Yang siblings were worried but didn’t dare intrude, so they just waited outside.

 

Finally, close to two in the afternoon, the study door opened.

 

“Master!”

 

“Mr. Song…”

Qianyang held her stomach and yawned.

“So hungry…”

Song Yunli said, “Butler, prepare some food.

Let Master Qianyang rest well.”

 

The butler quickly said, “The kitchen has been keeping things ready.”

 

“Sister, are you okay?”

Yang Wei asked worriedly, seeing that Qianyang’s complexion was paler than before she went in.

 

Qianyang yawned and shook her head.

“I’m fine.

Eat something, sleep, and I’ll be fine.”

 

These activities drained Qianyang’s energy, but a good sleep would fix it.

 

Yang Wei couldn’t help glancing at Song Yunli.

He hadn’t changed at all from before.

 

The first time they met, because of Yang Mao’s disappearance, she hadn’t looked closely.

Earlier, she had been too startled.

Now, looking carefully, she saw that his features were exceptionally striking.

His dark eyebrows and eyes appeared faintly through his long hair, giving him a misty, landscape-painting quality, very Eastern in flavor.

As a result, he always seemed a bit cool and aloof.

No wonder her sister couldn’t mention him without saying “good-looking.”

 

As he walked past, Yang Wei felt a wave of cold, chilly energy.

Her body couldn’t help but shiver, and she quickly looked away.

For some reason… he felt terrifying!

 

“It’s okay.”

Qianyang seemed to sense her discomfort.

She put an arm around Yang Wei’s shoulders and leaned on her.

The bone-deep chill was covered by Qianyang’s warmth, and Yang Wei immediately relaxed.

She looked at the man’s tall figure and asked quietly, “Sister, did he just…”

Qianyang said, “His little brother seems to like you.

He said hello.”

 

Yang Wei: “…”

Yang Mao came over to the two and asked, “Master, what exactly is going on?”

 

Qianyang said, “I’ll tell you back home.

Your master is tired and hungry.”

 

After eating at the old Song residence, Qianyang prepared to leave.

 

On the way back, she fell asleep as soon as she got in the car.

She rarely dreamed, but perhaps because she had spent so long with the two vengeful spirits, in just one hour she had several fragmented dreams!

 

She dreamed of the old Song residence before it was so worn.

In the large house, almost only the mother and her two sons lived.

The doors and windows were locked tight.

The windows were plastered with thick newspapers.

Apart from a few dim lights overhead, the room had no light at all.

 

Qianyang could never clearly see the faces of the three in her dreams.

They huddled close together, as if afraid of something.

The child in the woman’s arms was always coughing, always drowsy.

Only the four- or five-year-old boy would try to break out of the lightless space, searching for an exit.

 

One day, the door that the boy had tried so hard to open was finally opened from the outside.

It was raining heavily outside.

A crowd of people surged into the room and took the woman and the child in her arms away.

They took them to a cemetery.

A deep pit had been dug in the ground, with a small coffin inside.

 

After the people said something, the woman looked back at the path she had come from, at the eaves in the distance, holding the motionless child tightly in her arms.

She clenched her jaw, her tears falling onto the child’s face.

Then, she stepped into the pit.

 

This pit was clearly not prepared for adults; it was extremely cramped.

Holding her child, she curled up on the small coffin.

Shovelful after shovelful of yellow earth was thrown into the pit, grains of sand and dirt falling on her and the child until they were completely buried.

 

Qianyang woke from the dream.

The car had already stopped at the neighborhood gate.

 

“Sister, you’re awake?”

Yang Wei’s voice came from above.

Qianyang opened her eyes and realized she had fallen asleep on Yang Wei’s lap.

 

“We’re here?”

Qianyang’s voice was a little hoarse.

 

Yang Wei said, “We’ve been here a while.

You seemed to be sleeping soundly, so my brother went back first and told me to let you sleep.”

 

“Yes…”

Qianyang pushed herself up.

“Are your legs numb?”

 

Yang Wei smiled.

“A little.”

 

Qianyang massaged her acupoints for her.

“Better?”

 

“Yes!”

 

After thanking the driver, the two went home.

 

After waking up, Qianyang seemed preoccupied.

She didn’t dream easily, and she never dreamed without meaning.

The resentment of those two souls had affected her.

Probably because she had just lent her luck to Song Yunli, exhausting her energy, giving them a chance to send her dreams.

 

That meant that Song Yunli, who had such a close connection to them, must dream of these scenes almost every time he slept.

How could anyone let go of hatred and walk out of the shadows after having those images burned into their memory for twenty-three years?

 

What exactly had happened twenty-three years ago?

Why had those people buried the mother and son alive?

 

At the old residence, Qianyang had been curious but hadn’t asked.

These weren’t things she needed to know, and Song Yunli clearly didn’t intend to tell her.

After those dreams, she was even more curious.

 

Back home, after resting until evening, they had dinner.

After dinner, Qianyang had Yang Wei search online for detailed information about Song Yunli.

 

“Song Yunli, twenty-seven years old, chairman of the Song Group, personal assets worth tens of billions.

Does not appear often in public.

Rumored to be at odds with the Song family branches.”

 

“The Song family was once a prestigious clan.

Twenty years ago, they divided their assets, forming six branch lines and one direct line.

Over the course of twenty years, the direct line heirs either died or joined other branches.

Nominally, he is the only direct descendant of the Song family left.”

 

“Twenty years ago…” Qianyang murmured.

That meant the Song family asset division happened after Song Yunli’s mother and brother were buried alive.

It was unclear if there was any connection.

 

“What about Song Yunli’s mother?”

Qianyang asked.

 

Yang Wei scrolled through the information.

There seemed to be no mention of Song Yunli’s mother.

 

Yang Wei thought for a moment.

“Sister, the boss of Qing Ning Live is his cousin, right?”

 

Qianyang nodded.

“Yes.”

 

“Then we might find clues about her from his cousin.”

 

“What’s his name?”

 

“Fang Lie.”

 

Yang Wei continued searching for information on Fang Lie.

 

“Found it!”

Yang Wei said.

 

“His father runs a real estate company.”

 

Yang Mao clicked his tongue.

“No wonder the tipping gift effects look like real estate ads.”

 

Yang Wei continued reading.

“His mother’s surname is Xu.

Xu Qiaofeng.

She owns a media company that produces films and television, though it only took off in recent years.”

 

Yang Mao glanced at the company name and representative works.

“I know this company.

Similar to Qing Ning Live, they got several good scripts in a short time.

Song Yunli probably helped with that.”

 

“Yes.

I looked at some online discussions about their family.

Early on, they were just middle class.

After Song Yunli returned from abroad at eighteen and started getting involved in the company, their business grew increasingly successful,” Yang Wei said.

 

Qianyang thought for a moment.

“Can we find information on Xu Qiaofeng?”

 

“Probably.”

 

The three followed the trail and found Xu Qiaofeng’s identity information.

 

“Xu Qiaofeng was born into a scholarly family.

Not particularly wealthy, but honest and proper.

She seems to have an older sister named Xu Huaci.”

 

“Xu Huaci?”

 

That should be Song Yunli’s birth mother.

 

“Look up her information.”

 

Yang Wei did as she was told.

After typing Xu Huaci’s name, nothing particularly useful came up.

 

“Master, there’s no information on her online,” Yang Mao said.

 

Qianyang pressed her lips.

She wasn’t surprised.

The Song family was wealthy and powerful, capable of controlling Taihang City.

If they dared to bury that mother and son alive, they certainly wouldn’t let anyone else find out.

Erasing someone’s existence would be child’s play for them.

 

“Master, did you find something?

Something related to the vengeful spirits beside Song Yunli?”

 

Qianyang’s expression was complicated.

She nodded.

“Yes.”

 

“Does it… have to do with Xu Huaci?”

 

Qianyang said seriously, “This matter cannot be made public.”

 

Thinking back: the Song family had chosen to divide their assets three years after Xu Huaci and her son were buried alive.

This could involve something huge, and it would be easy to get stained.

Since Song Yunli only needed five years, there was no need for Qianyang to meddle.

Besides, before leaving, she had already warned him.

If he did anything heinous, she would immediately cut the connection between them.

Then, Song Yunli would only have one path: death.

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