Chapter Nineteen: The Phantom Emerges

"Sir, the Master has asked me to invite you over to discuss some matters."

Ye Feifan had not realized how much time had passed while he was lost in thought. It was only when the knocking sounded and the servant’s voice reached him that he snapped back to reality.

"Understood!" he replied. Checking his watch (it was a few minutes past two in the afternoon), Ye Feifan put on his leather coat, slung his long sword over his shoulder, and opened the door. A servant in gray robes stood waiting respectfully.

"Let's go."

"Follow me, sir."

After locking his door, Ye Feifan followed the servant through several paths until they reached the Zhang family's reception hall.

The Master of the Zhang family sat in the seat of honor, flanked by the First, Second, and Third Elders. Xun Tianxing had introduced him to them before, so he had some impression of them. The others present were younger members of the clan, some even several years his junior.

"Who is that? He looks so handsome!"
"Where did he buy that outfit?"
"Shh... I heard that's a distinguished guest invited by the Clan Master. He saved Zhang Da's life last night. They must be calling him here for something important."
"Quiet, listen carefully."
"The steward died yesterday; the Master likely brought him here to investigate."

...

They were just a group of sheltered young aristocrats. Ye Feifan felt they were exactly the same as the people in the Xun family; even the expressions on their faces were uncannily similar.

Upon reaching the hall, the servant retreated. The Master of the Zhang family stood up and bowed toward Ye Feifan, saying, "Brother Xiao, you've arrived. Please, have a seat."

After Ye Feifan sat down, the Master introduced him to the three elders. For some reason, this scene made Ye Feifan feel uneasy; a familiar script began to unfold before his eyes.

A black-clad youth adjudication meeting? The originator of the "broken engagement" trope? "The river flows east for thirty years, then west for thirty years"?

Returning the bows one by one, Ye Feifan knew the Master hadn't summoned him for mere pleasantries. It was almost certainly about the mysterious death of the steward. He cut straight to the point: "Master Zhang, there is no need for such formalities. Your son and I share a bond, and if there is anything I can do to help, I will certainly not shirk my duty."

"Sigh... to be honest, I do indeed need your help, Brother Xiao."

"Oh? Please, go on, Master Zhang."

Truth be told, the Clan Master’s performance was mediocre, but Ye Feifan didn't show it. He suspected the shrewd old man was waiting to bait him with his words.

"Our steward died last night, but the guards at the gate claimed they saw no one enter. Since Da'er mentioned you have a way to identify the culprit, I ask that you help us uncover the truth. Our Zhang family would owe you a favor." As he said this, the Master bowed to him again.

Ye Feifan didn't speak at first; he began to pinch his fingers, putting on a show. After a long moment, he said, "I notice your complexion is not good, Master Zhang. It appears that your vital energy (Yang) has been drained by something. I sensed a heavy Yin energy as soon as I entered the estate. Have you offended some sinister entity?"

"Yang energy?" The Master was stunned, then drew a sharp breath, finally understanding the reason for his weakness.

Ancient texts offered comprehensive descriptions of Yang energy, the life force of the living, distilled from the essence of heaven and earth. The ancient saying, "Those who possess Yang live; those who lose it die," was not baseless. Those who lose all their Yang perish, and those with more vibrant Yang are physically stronger.

The Master had previously suspected someone was plotting against him, but hearing this from Ye Feifan, coupled with Zhang Da's account of last night, he became convinced that something foul was indeed haunting his home.

Seeing the Master lost in thought, Ye Feifan muttered, "Yang energy is like the sun; if one loses it, life is shortened and vitality fades. Do not dwell on it too much, Master Zhang."

"So that's it. No wonder we couldn't catch the culprit; we simply couldn't see them... I implore you to assist us, Brother Xiao." The Master was an old fox; he used this realization to corner Ye Feifan with a task he couldn't easily refuse.

If he refused, he would likely fail his side quest and offend the Zhang family, effectively ruining any chance of investigation. Looking at the weather, it seemed unlikely there would be a thunderstorm, so the "ominous thing" probably wouldn't appear. He would have to find another way to handle this.

"Master Zhang, do not panic. Take me to the crime scene, and we shall see."

"Many thanks, Brother Xiao. Please, follow me."

The three elders and Zhang Da followed the Master out of the hall. Ye Feifan walked beside the Master, observing his surroundings and inquiring about the layout of the estate.

The Zhang family compound was divided into five courtyards: East, South, Center, North, and West. The East was for the Master, the South for guests, the North for the direct descendants, the Center for receiving visitors, and the West for the training grounds and servant quarters. The layout was identical to the Xun family’s. He surmised that all great families followed this pattern.

The steward had died in the western courtyard!

Upon arriving, they saw a row of rooms with rosewood-carved doors featuring intricate patterns. They were all locked, likely to prevent theft.

The Master led Ye Feifan to the spot where the steward died and brought over the maid who had discovered the body, instructing her to describe what she saw that morning.

The body had not been moved. The face was pitch black, as if poisoned, and there were deep purple finger marks on the neck. It was impossible to tell if they were from a man or a woman, but he had likely been strangled. Lifting the clothing, they saw countless sharp wounds covering the body; the blood had congealed into a black mass. The steward’s eyes were wide with terror—a look of someone who had died with deep grievances.

After examining the body, Ye Feifan hadn't found any conclusive evidence. He began questioning the maid, recording keywords in a small notebook to deduce clues.

"Did the steward have any enemies?"
"No, the steward was a very kind person."
"Did anything unusual happen on other nights?"
"No."
"What about last night?"
"I only heard a knocking sound. It was very close, as if it were right next to my ear."

"A knocking sound?"

Ye Feifan turned to look at the doors, walking over to inspect them one by one. The Master and the others were drenched in cold sweat, clearly rattled by the maid's answer.

After a full patrol yielded no anomalies, Ye Feifan returned to continue his questioning.

"Were these doors locked when you found the body?"
"Yes, they were all locked. No one usually lives there."
"What are these rooms used for?"
"They are storage rooms, and some are reserved for new servants."
"Has anyone died in the estate before?"
"No."
"Did you see any suspicious people this morning?"
"No."

...

After the questioning, Ye Feifan learned about the steward's life and felt a sense of melancholy. The steward had been bought from a slave market. Out of gratitude to the Master, he had forgotten his original name and simply went by "Steward." He had served the Zhang family with total dedication and treated the other servants well, so everyone called him Steward, and the title had gradually become his name.

If he truly were a good man, he had died a very unjust death. But if he were a wolf in sheep's clothing, perhaps the "Red-Clad Driver" had simply brought something here...

"Did you hear any special sounds last night?"

The maid looked confused and shook her head, but then she seemed to recall something. "Last night... I faintly heard something like 'Please get on the bus'."

As soon as the maid spoke, Zhang Da’s face changed. So, that bus had passed through their home? And he had been foolish enough to go to the Beichen Tea Pavilion to catch it! Could something filthy have gotten in here?