Chapter Eighty-Seven: Each With Their Own Calculations

While Ye Dong and his companions were training day and night for a proper meal, Chen Yao and Officer Li did not slow their meticulous investigation.

“Brother Chen, this is the portrait sketched based on your apprentice Wen Xing and Heng Xing’s descriptions.” Officer Li handed a picture to Chen Yao. “According to their identification, this image matches their memory of the demon priest with a 93% accuracy.”

Chen Yao took the photo and studied it carefully. “As expected, he’s a seasoned old hand hiding in the world. If it weren’t for his yellow robe with the Eight Trigrams, you’d never guess from his appearance that he possesses such profound magical skills.”

Officer Li frowned. “Even you, Brother Chen, can’t discern anything from his features?”

“Not necessarily,” Chen Yao chuckled quietly. “Though his eyebrows appear ordinary, a closer look reveals something. For one, his brow bone protrudes, suggesting a far-sighted mind, but his temperament is stubborn and unyielding, quick to turn cold and ruthless.”

“That’s worth considering,” Officer Li nodded. “Physiognomy truly is a profound art.”

Chen Yao smiled. “Notice the left brow. Although there’s no scar there, the hair is visibly sparser than on the right.”

“Oh?” Officer Li looked down and saw it was true—the demon priest’s left brow was indeed thinner.

“You mean he’s often deep in thought?”

Chen Yao nodded with a smile. “Brother Li, you’re as sharp as ever.” As he spoke, he propped his left elbow on the table, thumb against his cheek, index finger and middle finger absentmindedly rubbing his left brow.

“That’s the habitual gesture of a thinker,” Officer Li said, glancing at his own reflection. “Come to think of it, I have the same habit—my left brow is thinner, too.”

“And another thing,” Chen Yao continued, pointing, “look at the eyes—sunken and dull, a sign of emotional indifference and weak familial ties. If he holds resentment against someone, he’s liable to turn on even his own family, using underhanded means without hesitation.”

He pointed to the demon priest’s mouth. “His face is peculiar. At first glance, there’s nothing amiss, but a more detailed look reveals oddities. Focus on the corners of his mouth for a few minutes, and you’ll sense the strangeness.”

Officer Li stared at the photo for several minutes, then exclaimed in surprise, “Brother Chen, the man in this photo isn’t smiling, yet after staring for a while, I get the feeling he’s secretly laughing to himself.”

“That’s a self-confidence beyond the ordinary.” Chen Yao’s lips curled. “If I’m not mistaken, this demon priest has a particular vice.”

Officer Li’s curiosity was piqued. “What vice?”

“Gambling.”

Chen Yao took out three black dice he’d found at the tomb’s entrance and placed them on the table. “I found these dice by the tomb. My disciple said they were dropped by the demon priest.”

Officer Li picked up the dice. “So you deduced he’s a gambler from this?”

Chen Yao shook his head. “This isn’t idle speculation. One trait of gamblers is their inexplicable self-confidence—they always believe they can win, and winning becomes their obsession.”

He paused. “Look in his eyes—see that deep, unwavering confidence? Isn’t it a bit like my own? That kind of gaze comes from at least forty years of cultivation. There’s a gleam beneath the dullness, invisible to the untrained but clear to me. At his age, would he really bother with colored contacts?”

“You know,” Officer Li said, “his expression really does look like he’s waiting for you to reveal your hand, as if he’s in control of the whole game!” He couldn’t help but marvel at the art of physiognomy, giving Chen Yao a sincere thumbs-up.

Chen Yao smiled faintly and handed a copy of the photo to Xiao Wang. “Have the psychological experts analyze this again. This intelligence is crucial. Whether it’s science or metaphysics, we must use every tool at our disposal.”

Officer Li nodded. “Absolutely right, Brother Chen. In fact, I recently used a psychological expert’s advice to successfully trap Xu Si and Li Zimu.”

“Brother Li, I’ll take one copy of the photo. There are some things I need to verify.” Chen Yao slipped the photo into his pocket and, after a word to Officer Li, took his leave.

“All right!” Officer Li noticed Chen Yao’s serious expression and didn’t press further. With his intelligence, he knew exactly where Chen Yao was headed—to confirm with Yu Menglan whether the man in the photo was the demon priest who framed her years ago.

“Master Chen, Brother Zilong.” In the darkness, Yu Menglan seemed anxious yet hopeful at their arrival. “Have you found anything?”

Chen Yao took out the photo and, forcing a wry smile, said, “We’ve found a suspect. Please look and tell us if this is the bastard.”

Yu Menglan froze, unable to bring herself to take the photo.

“Come now!” Seeing her at a loss, Chen Yao took her hand, placing the photo in her palm. “Some things must be faced. There’s no use running.”

Yu Menglan nodded and lowered her gaze to the photo. As she looked, her eyes reddened, and tears fell, dripping steadily onto the picture.

Seeing her grief, the two men understood her pain and didn’t press her, waiting in silence for her response.

After a long while, Yu Menglan’s pale face twisted in hatred as she forced out a few words: “It’s him! Even if he were turned to ashes, I’d recognize him.”

With her confirmation, Chen Yao nodded slowly.

After another long silence, he looked up at the starry sky and recited, “Through a hundred battles in golden armor, I shall never return unless Loulan falls! Menglan, wait for our good news. Take care!”

Before Yu Menglan could thank him, Chen Yao strode away. Suddenly, the photo in her hand burst into flames without warning, startling her so much she flung it to the ground.

“How did the photo catch fire?” As she moved to retrieve it, Zilong stopped her. The golden flames devoured the photo in seconds; Yu Menglan could only watch as it turned to ash.

“That’s Master’s fury,” Zilong murmured. “I haven’t seen him so enraged in years. Menglan, take care. I must follow him!”

“Thank you, thank you both…” Yu Menglan nodded, tears streaming down her face as she watched their departing figures. Her heart surged with emotion, ebbing and flowing like a restless tide, unable to find peace.

Exhausted, Ye Dong was finally able to enjoy a full meal that day. Huiyan cautioned him, “Don’t eat so fast, you’ll choke.”

Ye Dong grinned mischievously. “I’m just happy! And when I’m happy, I eat!”

“That’s right, Brother Dong was amazing today! You led us through all those traps in one go. I have to give you credit!” Dachun, his swollen face half red and half black, laughed.

“Come on, your ugly mug was battered by a monster—don’t laugh too hard!” Xiaobao, his head wrapped in bandages like an Indian, joked. “But honestly, I’m impressed. Your True Fire of Samadhi is getting smoother, and your ‘Transcendent Physique’ just keeps getting stronger. I’m so jealous!”

“Exactly!” Liang Lingzhi waved her hand, dropping a drumstick into Ye Dong’s bowl. “No more empty words—this chicken leg is yours!”

“How touching,” Nianxue’s voice drifted in with a hint of sarcasm. “You’re already praising him after the first stage. If you clear the second, will I have to call you all senior brothers?”

“Greetings, Senior Sister!” the group chorused.

“Heh,” Liang Lingzhi chuckled. “Nianxue, did you come to see me?”

“Scram!” Nianxue snapped. “Or are you not hungry anymore?”

Ye Dong forced a smile and asked, “Where’s Master? Didn’t he say he’d come teach us?”

“He’ll be here soon. And it seems there’s a new training mission for you all.” Nianxue’s eyes gleamed slyly. “Better eat while you can, or else…”

Ye Dong grinned ingratiatingly. “Come on, dear Nianxue, we’ve known each other for over ten years—can’t you give us a little hint?”

Nianxue pursed her lips and shook her head. “No can do—it’s against the rules.”

Liang Lingzhi and Huiyan each took her arm, pleading, “Come on, tell us!”

Nianxue brushed Liang Lingzhi’s hand away and patted Huiyan’s. “For the sake of our beauty Huiyan, I’ll give you a hint—it’s a test about gambling.”

“Gambling?” Ye Dong and the others were baffled, wanting to ask more, but Nianxue slipped away. “Don’t ask me, just be ready.”

“Hearing my dear Nianxue sound so mysterious, I have a feeling this will be troublesome,” Liang Lingzhi mused, rubbing her chin. While Ye Dong wasn’t looking, she snatched the drumstick she’d just given him and took a bite. “But never mind that—let’s eat first!”

“Hey! Didn’t you just say that chicken leg was for me?” Ye Dong shouted.

Liang Lingzhi chewed and replied, “I changed my mind!”

“Give it back!”

“No way!”

…

“Is it possible that the ‘Spirit Thief’ Huang Wuchang is being hunted himself these days?” came a teasing voice over the phone.

“Bad luck,” Huang Wuchang muttered, more concerned with another matter. “Brother, how’s that thing I asked you to handle?”

“Don’t worry when I’m on the job. Have you prepared what I wanted?”

“All set—just let me know when you’ll come get it.” Huang Wuchang’s tone was respectful.

“Good. I’ll fetch it in a few days. And listen: be careful of that monk Jin Xin. He’s unfathomable. If you run into him alone, don’t try to show off—you’ll pay for it.”

The call ended. Huang Wuchang set the phone down, propped his left elbow on the table, thumb against his cheek, fingers rubbing his left brow. “That damned monk keeps pestering me. If he finds out my secret, I’m done for. I need a sly trick to get rid of him!”

“Master, you look troubled—can I help lighten your burden?” Guangqi approached with tea, placed it before Huang Wuchang, and returned the dice to their cup.

“Guangqi, have you found any details about that ancient spell in other texts?” Huang Wuchang asked, sipping his tea.

Guangqi shook his head. “Not yet. The language is extremely convoluted and some parts are badly damaged. It’ll take time and care to translate it correctly.”

Huang Wuchang nodded. “I appreciate your hard work.”

Guangqi smiled. “It’s no hardship. To learn at your feet is my greatest wish.”

Huang Wuchang gestured for him to sit. “Of the four of you, you joined last, but your talent surpasses the others. Don’t let me down.”

Hearing such praise, Guangqi quickly demurred. “I’ll give my all and never let you down, Master.”

Huang Wuchang nodded and continued, “Your senior brother Wei has been with me longest, but he’s too clever for his own good and often gets tripped up by it. Your second brother Lecheng loves money above all and can’t be relied on. Your third brother Lixing is addicted to drink and women, full of violent impulses, and will never be great. You understand what I mean?”

Smart as he was, Guangqi understood that Huang Wuchang intended to pass on his mantle to him. He immediately rose and bowed deeply. “Your immense kindness is beyond repaying, even with a lifetime of service!”

“All right, call Wei and the others here, then return to your cultivation. I have something for them.” Huang Wuchang waved him off.

Guangqi nodded, left, set aside the ancient text, jotted a few notes in his annotated notebook, and went to summon Wei and the others.

The three soon arrived before Huang Wuchang, who greeted them with a sly grin. “You mentioned before a brazen young man, respected by both the underworld and the authorities, who wants to join us at the Tomb of Eternal Life?”

Wei nodded quickly. “Yes, his name is He Wentian. His father, He Ding, is a renowned antiquities expert living abroad. From what we’ve seen, He Wentian is indeed arrogant and fearless, loves adventure, has power and influence, and is absolutely wild—a handful.”

“Oh? He sounds interesting!” Huang Wuchang poured out the dice from their cup and sneered, “He wants to join us at the Tomb of Eternal Life? Not so easy!”

Wei and his companions exchanged glances, unsure what their master was up to.

Meanwhile, the focus shifted back to Ye Dong, who had hardly rested these past days. Would he once again turn misfortune into fortune? What secrets lay between the mysterious Guangqi and Huang Wuchang? What new trials would Officer Li and Chen Yao dream up for Ye Dong and his friends? And what hidden past did the cunning, formidable Chen Yao possess?

Since the release of the “Cycle of Suffering,” reader reactions had grown ever more enthusiastic. As plotlines converged and secrets came to light, the “Cycle of Suffering” entered its key phase—a breathtaking battle of wits and will was inevitable.

Urban Ghost Chronicles received two category recommendations on August 1, bringing a surge of new readers. Here, Phoenix thanks new and veteran readers alike for your support—your recommendations, reviews, and rewards. Let’s look forward together to an exciting August!