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墨書 Inktalez
Chapter 118: Dead Loop (Part Twenty-Six)
"Oh, fine, do whatever you think is best, Seven. Just keep everything that happens here a secret; I don't want to see any reporters showing up." Hearing Lin Dad say this made me chuckle. The world of the wealthy is so different; I never imagined that my work as a Mortician would attract media attention.
Chi Xinrong brought in some water while I drew a Calming Talisman in my palm. This was a trick my grandfather taught me. Sometimes, it's not the physical talismans that work; often, it's the invisible Spirits that are unaware of certain things that hold the most power.
The Calmness Mantra can be used in two ways: one is the talisman form, and the other is the Mind Calming Spell. Right now, I was using the Mind Calming Spell.
In the room, everyone—Fatty and Chi Xinrong—was cooperating with me fully.
Lin Dad was visibly agitated, his phone ringing incessantly. He answered it briefly before hanging up, pacing back and forth in frustration. His eyes occasionally darted towards me and then to Lin Tai.
Lin's Mom was staring at me intently when suddenly she lunged at me like a madwoman, knocking over the water bowl. The bowl clattered loudly on the floor, startling everyone else in the room who couldn't understand why Lin's Mom was acting this way.
"Stop harming my son! Please, just leave!" Lin's Mom shouted furiously, her face twisted with rage and veins bulging on her forehead—it was genuinely frightening. I quickly stood up, not daring to say another word, and hurriedly retreated with Fatty.
Chi Xinrong tried to calm down the startled Lin's Mom with kind words, but she was still thrown out by Lin's Mom. She turned to me and asked, "Is she possessed?"
"Not possessed; she probably has a guilty conscience," I sighed helplessly. "Everyone has their own Guardian Spirit. Lin Tai's Guardian Spirit has abandoned him; his situation is dire."
Fatty and Chi Xinrong clearly didn't understand what I meant. They thought that since Lin Tai had woken up, everything should be fine. Just like Lin's Mom's fierce reaction earlier—she must have felt her son was okay to act so aggressively towards us.
"Sigh! It's hard to be a good person."
As I sighed and prepared to leave with Chi Xinrong and Fatty, Uncle Lin rushed out, holding a bulging Red Envelope in his hand. He waved it at me and said, "Wait."
"What is he doing?" Chi Xinrong wondered.
Fatty's eyes were glued to the Red Envelope, following Uncle Lin's movements.
I elbowed him to get him to focus a bit more. To my surprise, he shamelessly stammered at Uncle Lin, "Uncle Lin, I'm sorry about this..." He actually reached out to grab the Red Envelope!
I swatted his hand away and stepped forward to face Uncle Lin, asking, "What's going on?"
"You really worked hard just now; you should accept this token of appreciation." Uncle Lin handed me the red envelope, his voice steady and filled with an imposing authority. His expression remained calm, revealing nothing of his thoughts.
I noticed that the red envelope contained a four-digit sum. Wealthy people are indeed generous. However, not every kind of money is acceptable, especially since I hadn't fully helped them. I was well aware that Lin Tai's situation wasn't over; the cycle of causality and retribution was beyond my control. Even if my grandfather rose from his grave, he could only sigh in resignation, especially considering there were still unspeakable scandals within their family.
Accepting money to help others avert disaster is a precarious matter; I couldn't meddle with the cycle of causality, so I had to refuse the money. My refusal left Chi Xinrong and Fat puzzled, and Uncle Lin looked at me in disbelief. Perhaps in his eyes, we were just greedy for money.
As we left the Lin family home, Fat complained about why I didn't take the money. He counted on his fingers how quickly our expenses for the month were dwindling and grumbled about rising prices for rice and pork.
"Are you done?"
I grabbed his collar, not lifting him this time since he was too heavy. He struggled to pry my hands off, his face turning as red as if he had been smeared with chicken blood. A passerby asked, "Are you guys okay?"
I snapped at the passerby, "None of your business; just go away!"
Chi Xinrong chimed in, "Exactly! You worked so hard; why shouldn't you take the money?"
If it were Mi, she would never say such a thing; instead, she would support my decision and actions. Even if she didn’t understand, she would patiently let me explain.
But facing Chi Xinrong, this silly girl, I had to raise my voice in anger: "You know nothing! Lin Tai's death is imminent. If I accept the money and take on an order while he's still alive, if anything happens to him, we would have to shut down Ma Wu Funeral Home and end up drinking tea at the station."
"Is it really that serious?" Chi Xinrong still seemed skeptical as she looked at Fat. Fat quickly averted his gaze from mine and hurriedly walked ahead with his hands covering his face.
And that was how things stood.
Chi Xinrong returned to her uncle's house. Since it was the first day of Ghost Festival, there wasn't much activity on the streets. I reminded her to head home early and stay inside at night; it was better than being out.
As for Fat, he was too scared to argue with me and nodded obediently. At first, I thought he was afraid of me, but soon I realized something was off. Just as we were walking towards a nearby station, several people suddenly emerged from nowhere, wielding two-section wooden sticks.
They played with the sticks skillfully while staring intently at Fat and me.
I whispered to Fat, "Who are they?" Strangely enough, no one answered me. When I turned around to look for him—damn it—Fat had disappeared without me noticing.
The group quickly surrounded me after Fat ran off. They were all burly and strong-looking, built for hard labor. What were they doing? As I examined them closely, I noticed they wore tattered work clothes and had dark skin from prolonged sun exposure. Their clothes were speckled with mud, and a strong odor of sweat wafted from them. It dawned on me—they must be construction workers?
"Hey, what's going on, guys?"
They temporarily tucked their wooden sticks behind them. One tall, round-faced man said to me, "Your brother owes us money. He went to Ma Wu Funeral Home today and came back empty-handed. Coincidentally, our construction site is just up ahead. Someone saw you all, so we came over. Please give us the money he owes."
"What money? I don't know anything about it." These people were strange; they looked like construction workers, but there was a fishy smell about them. I wondered about it while quietly observing their expressions.
Facing one person was manageable, but standing in front of so many strong men made me feel a bit uneasy. However, my voice was loud enough that the few who had gathered around me paused for a moment and exchanged glances. It was still the tall guy who spoke again: "The fat guy owes a gambling debt of ten thousand. You have nothing to do with this if you don't pay us back now. If you dare to delay..." As he spoke, they made their sticks crack loudly in the air and glared at me fiercely.
In an instant, I laughed. Judging by the situation, it seemed that Fatty hadn't completely quit gambling. And these construction workers, with no women around during their lonely days off, likely dove headfirst into gambling activities.
Fatty must have lost badly. Otherwise, how could he owe so much money? I sneered and said, "Who is Fatty? I don't know him. His debts have nothing to do with me."
"You are his brother. If you don't pay us back, then we'll take your shop as collateral!"
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