Chapter 67 Turns out there was a "traitor" in the family!

The phone that He Lixin had placed on the table suddenly rang. Looking at the name on the screen, everyone fell silent.

He Qijiang gave him a subtle look and snorted, "No wonder Li Chengren knows so much about things at home even though he's outside. Turns out there's a 'traitor' in the family."

He Lixin chuckled, picked up his phone, and said without hesitation, "How could that be? You can't wrong me, sir."

"hehe,"

He Qijiang sneered and rolled his eyes speechlessly: "Alright, hurry up and answer it."

"Okay, sure."

When the call connected, He Lixin chuckled upon hearing He Licheng's distraught voice, and then quickly began to explain.

Because it was too mystical, He Lixin hesitated for a moment, and then only mentioned that Old Zhang and his group, as well as the mine owner Zhou Liren, had been arrested, resulting in all the workers being absent and losing their jobs.

Just hearing this, He Licheng could vaguely understand his father's impatient attitude.

As the village party secretary, he witnessed villagers losing their jobs and suffering misfortunes.

With all that, how could he not have a big problem?

He Licheng nodded and said in a deep voice, "Okay, then I'll try to find out."

"Well, then I'll trouble you. Putting everything else aside, these absentees have only been paid for one month since the end of the year. Will Zhou Bapi still be able to pay the wages he owes? You should go and find out for me."

"good."

After hanging up the phone, He Qijiang gave He Lixin a satisfied look.

Then she looked at Zhong Wan and tentatively asked, "Then Wanwan, would you like to try your pen that moves at will?"

"It would be great if it worked, but we're not in a hurry if it didn't. Anyway, Zhou Bapi probably won't be out of the picture for the rest of his life."

Zhong Wan nodded.

He Lixin chuckled and leaned closer: "Since Wanwan can curse people just by drawing and writing, then let's write more, and write as tragic as possible!"

Zhong Wan glanced at him speechlessly.

He Liqun raised his hand and slapped him hard on the back: "Get out of here, Wanwan can write whatever she wants."

"But I don't know what to write,"

Zhong Wan sighed helplessly, holding the pen: "That last one was purely accidental; I wrote it in a fit of anger."

"Besides, I don't even know if the last one worked."

"have."

Hearing Lin Yan'an's calm and affirmative answer,

The group looked over in confusion.

Lin Yan'an looked at Zhong Wan and nodded slightly, encouragingly saying, "It's useful. Do you remember that one-yuan compensation from last time?"

"Shao Lao Er's sudden change of heart may be partly due to Sui Sui's use of Yin energy to create illusions, but it should also be due to the power of the words you wrote."

"Moreover, when I came out of the interrogation room, I could still faintly hear Shao Kaifeng and his father's painful voices of remorse."

Zhong Wan understood, and asked with some curiosity, "But why didn't I hear anything?"

Lin Yan'an shrugged: "Maybe it's because I've had better hearing since I was little."

After all, if he didn't have such keen hearing, how could he wake up instantly at the slightest sound after falling asleep? And how could he faintly hear the noises made by those ghosts and monsters?

[Meow, Sui Sui heard it too.]

Although the illusion of yin energy only affects Uncle Shao, the power of Mom's words can also affect others.

Okay, then we can only hope that this time it will actually work.

Zhong Wan picked up her pen, looked at the portrait of Old Zhang in front of her, then hesitated, glancing at the blank paper beside her.

"If you don't know what to write, then write a funeral couplet for Old Zhang."

He Qijiang said in a deep voice, looking out the window with a somewhat dazed expression, "We have always valued etiquette. The elegiac couplets written in black and white are not only for creating the atmosphere of the funeral, but also a way for us, the living, to remember the deceased."

At this point, He Qijiang shook his head regretfully: "It's a pity that with the advancement of technology, these traditional etiquettes have disappeared."

Funeral couplets?

Zhong Wan murmured those two words softly.

To be honest, she's almost thirty, but she's never attended a funeral.

Her uncle was right. Despite graduating from university and considering herself a scholar, she didn't even know these traditional etiquette rules.

"Yes, elegiac couplets, a bridge built with words between life and death,"

"Everyone will die someday, but as long as someone remembers them, they are not completely gone; they still live on in our memories."

"But those who are alive will always grow old."

"That's why we have funeral couplets. We use them to condense his life and his story, so that he will forever remain in the world."

Listening to He Qijiang's hoarse explanation,

Zhong Wan seemed to have an epiphany, pondered for a moment, and picked up her pen.

Her expression was solemn, her face expressionless, as she focused intently on writing.

First line: A mountain collapsed on the material selection belt, the belt itself gnawing at bones.

The second line reads: "Mingyuan swore an oath with blood as proof, an ironclad testimony to Brahma."

Horizontal inscription: Father's inscription, son's creation.

The moment I finished writing, the temperature in the room plummeted.

The drawing paper in front of her moved on its own even without wind.

He Qijiang, He Lixin, and He Liqun were instantly startled. They exchanged a glance, then looked at Zhong Wan with serious expressions.

She calmly put down her pen, looked straight ahead, and suddenly felt dizzy; her fingertips went cold.

Zhong Wan reached out and held onto the table, closed her eyes and calmed herself for a while.

The person and the cat instantly stood up and stood guard beside Zhong Wan.

Lin Yan'an quickly reached out to support her arm and asked with concern, "What's wrong?"

Zhong Wan shook her head slightly, sensing the yin energy in front of her, and said softly, "It's here."

As soon as they finished speaking, Lin Yan'an and Zhong Suisui also saw the faintly visible figure.

"You're here?"

Lin Yan'an glanced down at the drawing paper, then looked ahead, her voice tinged with doubt: "Is it Old Zhang?"

Zhong Wan nodded slightly upon hearing this: "Yes."

Old Zhang, shackled and bound, suddenly appeared before them, looking at the unfamiliar surroundings with a bewildered expression.

He held his tools somewhat helplessly, his eyes darting anxiously around: "Work..."

"I need to work..."

"I can still make money..."

As if devoid of reason, he kept repeating these three sentences.

Zhong Wan's heart sank upon seeing this.

Is this why he still harbors such obsessions even after he's dead...?

Need a job? And how can you make money?

His soul seemed tireless; the transparent figure instantly floated over to the pile of sand outside the window.

He picked up his tools and got to work, head down.

Zhong Wan quickly went to the window and looked at the two dark blue chains binding him, noticing the cold numbers flashing on them. As he continued to work, the numbers on his body changed.

While 3280 remained unchanged, the number 876 was already counting down until it reached 0.

And the moment 876 reached 0, 3280 began its countdown again.

However, when 3280 returned to zero, the two strings of numbers flashed twice simultaneously, and then returned to their original state.

It's as if we've entered a strange loop.

Old Zhang worked tirelessly, the numbers on the shackles constantly returning to zero before starting anew.

Lin Yan'an frowned upon seeing this and asked, "Those two numbers, do they represent money?"

Zhong Wan nodded: "It should be."

He Qijiang and the other two looked at the two men with serious expressions, then at the pattering rain outside the window, and were extremely puzzled.

He Lixin leaned closer to the window, looking puzzled: "What are you talking about?"

"Where are the numbers?"

He peeked around cautiously, and when he saw the A4 paper pasted not far away, he quickly said, "Is that it?"

He squinted and looked, though it wasn't very clear because of the weather.

But this is his village!

A little thought would tell you what was written on it: "That mobile phone number for going to the city?"

He Liqun glanced at the calligraphy and paintings on the table, picked one up, and looked out the window.

Just as I was about to look down for a closer look, I noticed the blurry figure outside the window...

His eyes widened instantly, filled with shock, confusion, and finally, anticipation.

If there really are ghosts after people die, then he...

Will he ever see his son again?