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墨書 Inktalez
Zhong Kui's Diary
Upon hearing this, the expressions of everyone in the room varied.
Jin Zhenzhong stood up, pointing at Jin Xinghua, and angrily said, "Xinghua, you beast! How could you do such a thing!"
Jin Xinghua looked at his older brother, a hint of desolation appearing on his face. "The victor takes all; there's nothing strange about it. What do you want to do? Are you going to send me to prison like Jin Zhao?"
Jin Zhenzhong stepped forward, his hand raised high as if he wanted to slap Jin Xinghua, but in the end, he did not strike. He swayed slightly and fell back onto the sofa, muttering to himself, "How to deal with this? How to deal with this..."
Having taken a step forward earlier, he now leaned awkwardly against the edge of the sofa, seemingly unaware of his position.
"Dad!" Jin Yang stepped forward to help Jin Zhenzhong sit upright. It seemed that only then did Jin Zhenzhong come to his senses and turned to me, saying, "Mr. Zhong, give me a cigarette!"
"Dad, didn't you quit smoking?" Jin Yang exclaimed in surprise.
"Don't mind me!" Jin Zhenzhong snapped as he took the cigarette and lighter I handed him. He lit it and took a few deep puffs. Wow, he smoked so smoothly; he must have been quite the chain smoker before.
The room was dead silent; no one spoke as they watched Jin Zhenzhong smoke.
After smoking three cigarettes in a row, Jin Zhenzhong stubbed out the cigarette and said hoarsely, "Ever since Jin Zhao went in, I've felt uneasy alongside Lin Xuan; the pressure has been immense. This pressure comes not only from psychological aspects but also from the company side. To be honest, my partners have been pointing fingers at me, blaming me for my son's misdeeds. In the past, those who collaborated with my old man were traditional family businesses that valued family continuity more."
As Jin Zhenzhong suddenly shifted the topic to this aspect, we were all puzzled. Is it relevant to share your pressures with us right now? Even if you consider us a sounding board, you should be mindful of the time and place; can we discuss serious matters first? Your brother is involved in a murder case.
"After the old man had his incident, first it was Jin Yang's arrest, then Jin Zhao's imprisonment; the Jin Family can no longer bear such disgrace. Therefore, regarding Xinghua's matter, I want it resolved within the family." Jin Zhenzhong spoke slowly but firmly; such a tone indicated his strong determination that would be hard for others to change.
"Dad..." Jin Yang exclaimed in surprise from the side.
"Enough, it's of no use. Mr. Zhong, Mr. Ding, Captain Ling, I have a generous gift for the three of you. I hope you can leave the Jin Family with one last shred of dignity." Jin Zhenzhong stood up, swayed slightly, and after being supported by Jin Yang, cupped his fists towards us three.
We hurriedly stood up. With such a generous offer and a plea for mercy, Ding Fatty and I certainly wouldn't oppose it. As for Lingfeng? In his eyes, the Public Security captain was just a page about to be turned in his resume. If it weren't for me being involved, he wouldn't even care about this matter.
"Xinghua, I will transfer fifty million to your account, but there is one condition: you must sign an agreement stating that from now on, you have no further relations with the Jin Family," Jin Zhenzhong stated firmly.
Fifty million—an amount that ordinary people could never hope to reach in a lifetime—was casually tossed to Jin Xinghua like a carrot by Jin Zhenzhong.
A hint of mockery crossed Jin Xinghua's lips. "Alright, thank you for your mercy, big brother. When shall we find a lawyer to sign the agreement? How about this afternoon? I'll move out today and sever all ties with the Jin Family."
Is it really ending just like that? This development is too fast; it's almost unbelievable.
Due to the special nature of this matter, Jin Zhenzhong hoped that we could serve as witnesses for the agreement. Lingfeng immediately refused and bid us farewell with a smile. Naturally, Jin Zhenzhong knew some background about Lingfeng; in some respects, the Ling Family was a giant dragon traversing Huaxia, while the Jin Family was merely a local snake in Star City.
Jin Zhenzhong instructed Jin Yang to disperse those men in black. The matter was settled; he didn't want so many people watching him at home. Nowadays, many billionaires prefer not to hire bodyguards—one reason is that it can lead to leaks, and another is that incidents of being kidnapped or extorted by one's own bodyguards occur more frequently than by actual kidnappers. It's better to find a trustworthy driver who knows some Kung Fu.
Ding Fatty and I stayed behind; after all, I was still friends with Jin Yang and wanted to help him out completely. Fatty looked at me with disdain and said I must want to chat about life ideals with Yang Guo'er.
Come on! Am I that kind of person? As I walked toward Yang Guo'er's room, I sternly rebutted Ding Fatty: "Don't use your AV brain to guess my V heart."
When Yang Guo'er saw us arrive, she showed no surprise. She got up to pour tea, and after chatting for a while, I frowned and said, "Fatty, go help Qingfeng Daozhang at the Spirit Tent. After all, he's an acquaintance; it's only right to do something within your capabilities."
Fatty usually had sharp eyes but seemed dazed today: "I'm not familiar with him!" He looked as if he wanted to ruin my good intentions.
Oh boy! If I don't set you straight, you won't even know whether you're flesh or fat! I chuckled and said, "By the way, An Ran mentioned some things about you."
Ding Fatty immediately jumped up and said, "I'll go right now!"
Ding Fatty was chasing after An Ran, who did not express any clear attitude—neither agreeing nor opposing. This made Fatty anxious, and he often asked me about An Ran's opinion of him. Come on, I'm not a gossip, why should I care? At a critical moment, I threatened Fatty, and it worked like a charm.
Watching Fatty rush out in a fluster, I exchanged a smile with Yang Guo'er, and we started chatting casually.
Not even ten minutes later, Fatty rushed back in, looking panicked.
"What happened?" I asked in surprise.
"There's... there's..." Fatty seemed to have run too fast and was out of breath.
I handed him a glass of water. He took it, took a deep breath, and then drank it all in one go. Only then did he say, "There's movement... sounds coming from the coffin."
Yang Guo'er and I stared at him in shock as Fatty took another deep breath and explained what had happened.
Earlier, when Fatty reached the Spirit Tent, he exchanged a few pleasantries with Qingfeng Daozhang. He certainly wasn't there to help; he didn't care about anything else. He sat down behind the altar, leaned his head against the coffin, and pulled out his phone to play with it.
First, he logged onto QQ. Unfortunately, these days, most people on QQ were used to being invisible; those who weren't were usually busy with work and couldn't be bothered. After a while of boredom on QQ, he opened WeChat and searched for nearby people. Suddenly, he saw someone named Turtle.
(Fatty reached this point, and I couldn't help but exclaim, "Turtle?"
Fatty looked at me in surprise: "Do you know him?"
I replied, "You continue; I'll tell you later.")
Fatty found it amusing and sent a friend request. Before long, he heard a faint notification sound from WeChat. So soon? Fatty quickly checked his phone but found that there were no notifications at all.
After a moment of surprise, Fatty's mind started racing. He immediately thought that this turtle must be the WeChat number of one of the Taoists in the Spirit Tent. The turtle, after all, is one of the four sacred beasts of ancient Taoism: the Azure Dragon, White Tiger, Vermilion Bird, and Black Tortoise—of which the Black Tortoise is indeed a turtle. It must be right.
With this thought, Fatty's curiosity was piqued. "Black Tortoise" sounds so nice, yet they call it a turtle; that's just ridiculous—a fighter among fools, a VIP among the dimwitted. I have to see who it is!
He began sending friend requests on his phone while wandering around the Taoists, hoping to hear a notification sound from someone.
However, no Taoist emitted any sound. Strange. Could it be an illusion? Fatty sat back down in the same spot and then heard a faint notification sound again.
"Damn! The WeChat sound is coming from inside the coffin!" Fatty concluded, still shaken.
"You mean Jin Manyuan is playing WeChat?" I asked in confusion.
"Ah!" Yang Guo'er, who had been listening to Fatty, already had a somewhat odd expression on her face. Upon hearing my question, she couldn't help but exclaim.
"How else can you explain it? Is there someone else inside the coffin?" After revealing this information, Fatty felt much less scared and looked at me in confusion.
What are you looking at me for? I'm not Baidu; I can't give you the answer you're looking for. Besides, even Baidu wouldn't know the answer to this question.
"Mind if I smoke?" I took out a cigarette and was about to light it when I suddenly remembered that I was in Guo'er's bedroom.
"Go ahead; I smoke one when I'm bored too." Guo'er rummaged through a drawer and handed me an ashtray, which indeed contained several white cigarette butts.
I lit the cigarette and pondered for a moment before asking, "Guo'er, were you present when Old Man Jin was embalmed?"
"I was there," Yang Guo'er nodded.
"Were his mobile phone placed in the coffin as a burial item?"
"It is indeed the case," Yang Guo'er said, frowning in thought. "But the phone was turned off at that time."
"It’s possible that while handling the body, someone accidentally pressed the power button," I replied. "So, the first question about the phone being in the coffin can be explained this way."
Fatty and Guo'er nodded, seeming to agree that this was the only explanation.
Then I told them about what happened with Jin Yang. That night, this turtle had sent a text message to Jin Yang, warning him not to wear Red Clothes.
Upon hearing this and recalling the WeChat notification sound from inside the coffin, Fatty said hoarsely, "You mean this turtle is Old Man Jin, Jin Manyuan?"
"That's not surprising. The old man might have been scared by Jin Zhao's ghost a few days earlier, leading to a fear of red. It makes sense that he would remind his grandson not to wear Red Clothes," I explained.
Yang Guo'er furrowed her brows tightly and said, "No wonder Jin Yang's red shirt frightened the old man so much. But how could the old man be scared to death? That doesn’t make sense."
"What doesn't make sense?" I asked curiously.
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