Jiang Luo took a comfortable shower and, feeling satisfied, came out of the bathroom and showered the Yin Tiger with praise while hugging him. The Yin Tiger snuggled into his arms affectionately, letting out a proud “awoo” and puffing out its chest.
But the good mood didn’t last long—Jiang Luo soon received troubling news: Lisa was missing.
He rushed to the surveillance room, only to find it already crowded with people. The footage from the time Lisa disappeared was being replayed repeatedly. On the screen, Lisa sat lifelessly in a chair, but suddenly looked up toward the corner of the wall. The next second, the screen turned to static.
The magnetic field had been disrupted.
Once the surveillance glitched, the officer watching the feed immediately alerted the police responsible for guarding Lisa. However, by the time the officers burst through the door, Lisa had already vanished.
Only a few seconds passed between noticing the issue and calling the police. With no other exits from the room besides the door, Lisa’s sudden disappearance was undoubtedly a supernatural event.
The leader of the Blood Eel group had escaped—an outcome with unimaginable consequences. The room was filled with tension. Jiang Luo frowned and called Officer Lin Qin to step outside with him.
“Officer Lin, there’s something I need to tell you,” Jiang Luo hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “That Blood Eel group—you should investigate the Chi family.”
“The Chi family? You mean the ones known for puppet soul-refining?” Officer Lin asked.
Jiang Luo nodded. He paused, then said, “The waters run deep here. If you dig deeper, you’re bound to find something. Why were we even assigned to this mission? Why were Chi family members on board? Among the wealthy who associate with the Chi family, some may already be under Blood Eel control. I can’t say more—there’s too much involved. Those who know, know. If you investigate, do it quietly. You get what I mean, Officer Lin?”
Officer Lin looked bewildered. He kind of understood—and kind of didn’t. He quickly grabbed Jiang Luo’s wrist. “Wait, Student Jiang, are you saying there are Chi family members on this ship?”
“Yes,” Jiang Luo said. “More than one.”
They locked eyes for a moment, and Officer Lin’s expression grew more serious. He released Jiang Luo’s wrist and said, “Thank you for the information, Student Jiang.”
Jiang Luo smiled. “You have the look of a righteous man, Officer Lin. I believe you’ll get to the truth.”
Officer Lin had a broad forehead, sword-like brows, and bright, clear eyes. His gaze was deep and striking. From a physiognomy perspective, although he was chatty and tended to meddle in others’ business, he never lied and always kept his word. While sometimes stubborn, he had a destiny blessed with good fortune—often escaping danger at the last moment.
Such a clean and upright face was the type fortune-tellers loved to see. Jiang Luo easily judged his character.
Officer Lin smiled awkwardly and added, “This situation with the Blood Eel leader’s disappearance is just too bizarre. Could we trouble you and your team to help us investigate?”
“We can,” Jiang Luo said after a moment’s thought, “but we don’t have our tools. We’ll have to use old-fashioned methods—they’re not very effective.”
To everyone’s surprise, Officer Lin waved it off. “That’s easy. We’ve prepared all the tools you might need—Dean Xu handed them to us before your mission.”
The officers brought the supplies. It had been a long time since they’d seen things like compasses and talismans, and the team couldn’t help smiling as they embraced the gear like treasured relics.
With the tools in hand, the rest was easier. But even after combing through Lisa’s room inch by inch, they found nothing.
Though they were mentally prepared, Officer Lin still sighed in disappointment.
Jiang Luo exchanged a look with his companions. Still holding out a shred of hope, they mixed soot from a pot’s bottom, salt, and talismans into a bowl of water. Using willow branches, they flicked the water all over the ship, hoping to force out a ghostly presence.
But apart from some minor spiritual filth, there was no sign of Lisa.
By lunchtime, everyone was exhausted, slumped over the table without much appetite.
Cheng Li approached, tray in hand, looking uneasy. He glanced at Jiang Luo and the others, hesitated as if wanting to say something, but stayed silent.
Instead, Jiang Luo noticed his conflicted expression. “Brother Cheng, is there something you want to say?”
Cheng Li hesitated, then lowered his voice and asked, “Can a soul-summoning really succeed?”
“If someone died elsewhere, it’s hard,” Jiang Luo replied. “Some souls are already taken by underworld messengers and sent for reincarnation.”
He hadn’t finished speaking when Cyril choked on his water. He coughed violently, fumbling for a napkin, only to knock the rest of the water onto himself.
Lu Youyi handed him tissues. “Cyril, don’t drink so fast.”
“I wasn’t in a hurry,” Cyril’s hands trembled as he said with tearful frustration, “I don’t know why, but just hearing ‘underworld messengers’ scares me.”
Lu Youyi was puzzled. “What’s there to be scared of?”
Jiang Luo gave the curly-haired guy a sympathetic glance and continued, “But spirits who die at sea can’t reincarnate—unless they find someone to die in their place. And since this is international waters, under no country’s jurisdiction, with few passing ships, your wife and daughter should still be summonable.”
Ye Xun asked, “Did they die in these waters?”
Cheng Li’s eyes welled up with barely contained tears. He nodded vigorously, choking up as he said, “Then after the summoning, could I ask you to perform a ritual for them, so they can pass on peacefully?”
“Let’s do this,” Wenren Lian looked at the others and smiled. “Since we’re here, why not perform a grand ritual—to help as many souls in the sea as we can find peace?”
Naturally, no one refused the proposal. After dinner, Jiang Luo rested for another two hours. At seven o’clock, when the sky had darkened slightly, they went up to the deck, set up the altar and offerings, and began preparing the ritual items.
The civilians on the ship had been sent back to their rooms by the police. At that moment, only Cheng Li was on the deck.
Cheng Li gave Jiang Luo his wife and daughter’s clothing and their birthdates. Jiang Luo looked at his companions, who stepped back and watched him with smiling faces.
This was Jiang Luo’s first time performing a soul-calling ritual. Although it was his first, he wasn’t nervous. Instead, he was filled with a calm and unwavering confidence that he would succeed.
He prepared rice and tea—token offerings for spirits—then lit a red lantern and laid out the deceased’s clothing neatly on the table. Jiang Luo lit incense, bowed calmly three times, then inserted a slip of white paper with Zhao Qing’s birth information between her clothes using the three incense sticks. He did the same for Cheng Li’s daughter’s birth information and clothing. Once done, he turned to Cheng Li and said, “Call them.”
Cheng Li was so nervous that sweat was pouring down his face. Clenching his fists, he began to call out the names of his wife and daughter: “Zhao Qing, Cheng Jianjian. Zhao Qing, Cheng Jianjian…”
“Soul-calling” is also known as “name-calling,” and everything hinges on that word “call.”
A person’s soul has a very close connection with their clothing—clothes can be understood as having a kind of magnetic pull on the soul. That’s why when a human-faced spirit puts on human clothes, it takes human form: lost souls are drawn to their own clothing. But in the vast sea of souls, clothing alone isn’t enough—they also need to hear the voice of a loved one, someone extremely familiar.
Jiang Luo had already warned Cheng Li to remember the taboos of soul-calling: the voice must not be too soft, or the spirits won’t hear it; nor too loud, or they might be frightened. And it mustn’t break off, or they won’t be able to find their way.
Cheng Li’s throat was dry, and sweat dripped into his eyes, but he didn’t dare wipe it.
The incense wavered. Ash fell onto the slips with the birth information. When the incense had burned halfway, a mother and daughter suddenly appeared under the red lantern.
The woman wore a bright, gentle smile. The child held her mother’s hand and looked at Cheng Li with shining eyes: “Daddy!”
Cheng Li stared at them, stunned, and tears fell like rain.
The soul-calling and subsequent transcendence ritual went extremely smoothly. Everything finally concluded at five in the morning.
After crying his heart out, Cheng Li’s entire spirit seemed renewed. After sincerely thanking Jiang Luo, he went to the police of his own accord and began recalling all the rich people he’d seen while working on the ship these past two years.
This was a breakthrough—like a dramatic plot twist. The police were overjoyed and immediately placed Cheng Li under protection.
As for Jiang Luo and his companions, they collapsed on the ship and slept for four days straight before finally setting foot on land again.
It was now late autumn. They hadn’t felt the cold while on the ship, but once they were back on land, they realized—it was cold as hell.
They had only been away for half a month, but the weather had completely changed.
They flew back to school from Triangle Port. Upon landing, a large group of people had come to pick them up at the airport—not only the school bus but also representatives from various organizations. Even the Heavenly Master Residence had sent a car. Jiang Luo originally intended to decline their car and return to school with Ye Xun and the others, but as he walked up to the vehicle, the driver’s window rolled down, revealing an unfamiliar face.
“Junior Brother Jiang Luo?” The man held a lollipop in his mouth and grinned brightly. “Hop in. I’ll take you to see the Master.”
Jiang Luo hesitated and asked, “And you are?”
A head popped out from the back. Zhou Wudu called, “Junior Brother, hurry up! This is our Second Senior Brother, Shen Ruma.”
Jiang Luo joked, “Then is our First Senior Brother named ‘Shaqi*’?”
*Murderous Aura
Zhou Wudu gasped and stared at him in shock, “Switch the order around and you’ve got it—our First Senior Brother is called Xu Qisha! You actually guessed that?!”
Jiang Luo: “…” It really was murderous aura incarnate*.
* Ruma
He was left speechless and silently got in the car. As soon as he did, a small creature pounced into his arms and pitifully cried, “Daddy!”
Jiang Luo lifted it up—turns out, it was the ginseng spirit.
At home, the ginseng spirit had been treated like royalty by Zhou Wudu and Wang Santan and had grown noticeably chubbier. It looked even cuter now and was just about to use its appearance to win over Jiang Luo, who had once looked down on it—when Jiang Luo suddenly seemed to recall something, and with a look of distaste, tossed it into Zhou Wudu’s arms.
The ginseng spirit looked at him in disbelief, like it had just been betrayed by a heartless lover. Its lip quivered and it nearly burst into tears.
Jiang Luo said lazily, “I don’t want to share a car with a crying ginseng.”
The ginseng spirit immediately held back its tears.
Second Senior Brother laughed heartily. Shen Ruma was a smooth talker and had a bit of a roguish, carefree air. He didn’t stop talking the entire ride—he even told Jiang Luo how many sesame seeds were on the bun he had for breakfast.
“Oh, right. Do you still have stuff left at your school? I’ll take you back there to get it later,” Shen Ruma flicked the lollipop stick out the window and landed it precisely in a trash can. “Best to grab it in the next couple of days. After that, it won’t be so easy.”
Jiang Luo frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You forgot?” Shen Ruma raised his eyebrows and glanced at Jiang Luo through the rearview mirror, quietly thinking to himself, This junior brother really is good-looking. “Almost forgot you just finished a mission and drifted on the sea for half a month. Easy to forget. Let me remind you—this mission was your midterm exam. And after exams, what comes next?”
Jiang Luo kept a straight face. “Vacation?”
Zhou Wudu, fussing over the ginseng spirit’s little roots like a mother hen, chimed in, “Exactly! Vacation! Congrats—you’ve finally made it to break time.”
But… it was only late November.
Vacation in late November? Were they just going to be off for three whole months and return after winter?
But seeing the matter-of-fact expressions on Shen Ruma and Zhou Wudu’s faces, Jiang Luo didn’t show any reaction. Instead, he asked, “Is the Master at the Heavenly Master Residence?”
“Yes,” Zhou Wudu said. “Master wants you to see him once you’re back.”
Jiang Luo nodded.
It had already been five days since he and Chi You had rolled around in bed. The ghostly aura lingering on his body had long since dissipated, so he wasn’t afraid of meeting Feng Li now.
An hour later, the three of them arrived at the Heavenly Master Residence. Jiang Luo handed his luggage to a disciple and went straight upstairs toward the study.
He knocked. Feng Li’s voice sounded calmly from inside, “Come in.”
Jiang Luo pushed the door open and was surprised to see another person in the study. That person looked familiar—it was the funeral parlor owner.
The funeral parlor owner was slumped on the sofa, looking listless. “Your disciple’s here, so I’ll get going.”
“No need,” Feng Li lifted his gaze to Jiang Luo. His light-colored eyes scanned Jiang Luo from head to toe, meticulously checking from the strands of his hair down to his toes. Seeing no injuries, his expression softened. “I called you here to meet him.”
The funeral parlor owner raised his brows in surprise. “Oh?”
Feng Li was concise: “He’s suited to learn your ‘spirit channeling technique.'”
The funeral parlor owner was silent for a few seconds, then sat up a bit straighter. “Are you sure?”
Feng Li gave a slight nod.
The funeral parlor owner immediately turned to look at Jiang Luo again.
The black-haired young man closed the door and stood by it, slightly puzzled. His long hair was even longer than last time, his features were strikingly beautiful with a sharp, heroic air, tall and well-built with excellent bone structure.
The funeral parlor owner clicked his tongue in interest. “I didn’t see this potential in him before. Feng Li, you’re really willing to hand this disciple over to me?”
Feng Li took a sip of tea and gave a faint laugh, his tone mocking: “Absolutely not.”
