Chapter Eight: The Deceitful Schemes of Yang Rui

In the past, when faced with such bizarre things, Qin Yang would have been scared out of his wits. But now, he felt there was nothing to fear. Just like when he dealt with those thugs, a natural, powerful confidence surged within him. This confidence propelled him into the bedroom—not only was he unafraid, but he felt increasingly excited.

The bedroom was simply decorated and very clean. However, in the bedside cabinet, there hovered a mass of black radiance resembling a spectral ribbon. He found it odd: in the hospital, souls were always absorbed automatically into the Infernal Palace. Why had this soul managed to evade that fate?

He approached the cabinet and carefully opened it.

Inside were a few simple items: scissors, playing cards, some boxes. The soul’s presence was concentrated in one of the small boxes. Curious, he opened it and discovered a pure white jade pendant strung on a red cord, carved with a strange Taiji diagram. It was flawlessly transparent and looked extremely precious. Within the jade, a cluster of black light shimmered.

He tapped the pendant with his right hand, and suddenly, an anomaly occurred.

The black soul, as if drawn by a powerful force, vanished instantly along his fingertip without a trace.

“Would you like to read Yang Rui’s memories?”

“Read them.”

“Insufficient soul points.”

Hearing the merciless voice of Hell, Qin Yang felt a wave of helplessness.

“Don’t be discouraged,” the steward advised. “This is just the beginning. Look at that jade pendant—it’s able to evade Hell’s detection, so it must be a treasure.”

Examining the pendant in his hand, Qin Yang felt a surge of curiosity. Could this thing truly absorb souls? Was it really a treasure? As he pondered, a voice echoed in his mind once again: “Spiritual energy detected. Would you like to absorb it?”

“Spiritual energy?” Qin Yang was delighted and immediately replied, “Absorb it.”

In an instant, he sensed a soothing aura flowing from the pendant through his fingertips into his body, slowly gathering in his mind. Within just a minute or two, he heard Hell’s voice again: “Spiritual energy absorbed. Gained one hundred soul points.”

“One hundred points!” Qin Yang was overjoyed. He quickly called out, “Read Yang Rui’s memories.”

To possess such a jade pendant, Yang Rui must have been remarkable. If he could acquire his memories, there would surely be great gains.

“Memory reading complete. Thirty soul points consumed.”

“Thirty points!” Qin Yang was somewhat astonished. According to Hell’s rules, the more soul points spent, the higher the level of the departed soul’s memories or skills!

As waves of memories flooded his mind, Qin Yang immediately understood everything.

Yang Rui’s origins were indeed extraordinary. According to the memories, he was a descendant of Yang Xi, the founder of the Shangqing sect on Mount Mao. Yang Xi was no ordinary figure: he lived during the Eastern Jin Dynasty and was reputed from childhood to have clairvoyant abilities—in short, a spiritualist of sorts. His feats were impossible to verify, but he claimed to be entrusted by immortals and wrote many secret Daoist texts. The jade pendant was his personal possession, named the Taiji Yin-Yang Jade, renowned for its ability to calm the mind and spirit.

Yang Rui himself grew up under the influence of these superstitious Daoist arts, always believing his ancestor Yang Xi possessed true abilities. So he carried the jade with him, drew talismans, and tried to see if he could actually exorcise spirits. Had he succeeded, he would have made a fortune—but as expected, he never did. Whether Daoist priests could exorcise ghosts, Qin Yang did not know, nor had he ever witnessed it. As for his own abilities, he remained somewhat puzzled, though he believed he could eventually unravel all mysteries.

As for Yang Rui, in a society that upheld atheism, his daily idleness and devotion to superstition made him a target of scorn. In anger, he left Mount Mao and drifted to Haitian City, where he rented this room and immersed himself in his delusions, chanting incantations that never worked. He tried every method to open his third eye and concoct elixirs, but ultimately overdosed and died.

Yet, at the moment of his death, the Taiji Yin-Yang Jade underwent a dramatic transformation, absorbing his soul, which remained here undisturbed. His memories ended at that moment; after death, he lost all consciousness. But perhaps due to the strange nature of his soul, the entire apartment became shrouded in an eerie atmosphere. Children are always the most sensitive, so it was no surprise that Xiaomei was frightened to tears.

“How odd. There were ghosts in the hospital too, but I didn’t feel any chill. Was it because people came and went often? Is that why it felt normal there? Here, with no one living for a long time, the air turns uncanny? Or is it because of the jade pendant? But this pendant really is something—it’s absorbed the spiritual energy, and holding it makes me feel much more invigorated. A true treasure.”

Qin Yang hung the pendant around his neck and instantly felt an overwhelming sense of comfort, as though every fiber of his being was bathed in spring sunlight. Overjoyed, he was about to leave to explain the situation to Tao Caijie when suddenly, the familiar deep voice echoed in his mind: “Host has acquired First Level Alchemy, First Level Chinese Herb Identification, First Level Daoist Scripture Theory.”

“What is this?” Qin Yang was startled. He abruptly sensed every pore of his body become more perceptive, and the circuits and channels in his mind were suddenly much clearer. The sensation was subtle yet undeniably real. He realized these were Yang Rui’s skills, and was delighted—he hadn’t expected that paying some soul points would yield such remarkable benefits.

Moreover, with Yang Rui’s spirit now in the Infernal Palace, the room’s chilling atmosphere vanished, replaced by a warm, inviting air. Qin Yang retracted his Yin-Yang Eyes, and as he stepped outside, he saw the kind-hearted mother and daughter anxiously waiting for him. Upon seeing him, Tao Caijie said, “Qin Yang, forget it. Let’s not rent this place. I’ve reconsidered—let’s give up on it.”

But Qin Yang didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he stared at Tao Caijie’s face, lost in thought. Suddenly, he blurted out, “Sister Tao, have you recently been taking some kind of skincare supplements?”

“What?” Tao Caijie was baffled by his question, but seeing his serious expression, she wondered to herself—this was their first meeting; how could he possibly know?

“I can smell astragalus,” Qin Yang took a deep breath and said, “There’s a faint scent of astragalus on you. This herbal medicine is good for the skin and complexion, and it boosts immunity. But something seems off. Do you sometimes feel, um, an itching sensation at night?”

Tao Caijie’s face flushed scarlet at such a question, especially in front of Xiaomei. She didn’t know what to say. But Qin Yang was spot-on—every night she did feel a certain restlessness, a trembling beyond her control, which could be described as an itch. She’d always assumed it was a normal reaction from living alone. But being asked such an embarrassing question openly was deeply awkward, and she responded with a hint of annoyance, “I’m perfectly healthy.”

“That can’t be right. Your complexion is pale with a sickly flush—it looks normal, but there’s definitely something wrong with your medicine! May I see what you’ve been taking?” Qin Yang pressed on, unconcerned by the awkwardness.

Tao Caijie was at a loss for how to respond. She glanced at Xiaomei and said, “Xiaomei, go to your room and do your homework. I’ll make you dinner in a bit.”

“Okay.” Xiaomei cast a curious look at the two of them but obediently went to her room.

“Mr. Qin Yang, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t speak so carelessly,” Tao Caijie said, taking a deep breath. Being confronted with such a private question by a near-stranger, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of irritation.