56: His soul returned to the quiet garden, where he reminisced about the past.

The soul body appeared increasingly transparent under the sunlight.

Chen Shuyi—or rather, Chen Shuyi's remnant soul—seemed unaccustomed to this long-lost light. She instinctively tried to hide in the shadows but couldn't help greedily feeling the warmth of the sun.

"Let's leave here first," Li Muchen said. "The Yang Qi here is too heavy; it will damage your soul."

He looked at Lin Wenyuan: "Layman Lin, could you arrange a quiet room?"

Lin Wenyuan looked at the transparent figure floating in mid-air, his Adam's apple bobbing before he nodded with difficulty: "I... I can. Quiet Garden... Quiet Garden has a guest room that's usually unoccupied."

"It should be cool," Li Muchen added. "Preferably not facing the sun."

"Then the one next to the basement," Lin Wenyuan thought for a moment. "That room used to be a storage room, later converted into a guest room, but it's never been used. It faces north and doesn't see sunlight all year round."

"Very good."

On the way back to Quiet Garden, the atmosphere was eerie and silent.

Lin Wenyuan drove, Li Muchen sat in the passenger seat, and Zhao Xiaowen and Li Shiyu were in the back. Chen Shuyi's soul body floated on the roof—not because she wanted to, but because she found she couldn't enter the car, as if some invisible barrier was blocking her.

"Temple Master, she..." Lin Wenyuan glanced at the roof through the rearview mirror.

"Soul bodies cannot pass through large amounts of metal," Li Muchen explained. "The car's shell is metal, forming a natural barrier. But no matter, she can keep up."

Indeed, Chen Shuyi's soul body kept floating on the roof, maintaining the same speed as the car. Occasionally, a passerby would look up, but they could only see a blurred light and shadow, thinking it was an illusion caused by sunlight refraction.

Half an hour later, the car drove into Quiet Garden.

Chen Shuyi floated into the courtyard with everyone. Seeing this exquisite Chinese-style mansion, her soul body vibrated slightly.

"It's... very beautiful here," she said softly.

"It's my uncle's house," Li Shiyu explained in a low voice. "Xiaoyu... the girl you possessed, lives here."

Hearing the word "possessed," Chen Shuyi's soul body dimmed a bit.

"I'm sorry." She lowered her head. "I didn't do it on purpose... that pen, my resentment was sealed inside that pen. When that girl played spirit of the pen, my resentment was awakened, and... and I became entangled with her."

"I know." Li Muchen nodded. "So now we need to resolve this matter."

He looked at Lin Wenyuan: "Is that guest room ready?"

"It's ready."

The guest room was indeed cool.

The room was about twenty square meters, facing north, with windows tightly covered by heavy curtains. The furniture was simple: a single bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a chair. A small nightlight was lit in the corner, emitting a faint glow.

Chen Shuyi floated into the room, and her soul body seemed to stabilize a bit.

"It's... very comfortable here." She landed on the chair by the desk—though she didn't actually sit down, she was in a sitting posture.

Li Muchen took out the thunder-struck wood from his robe and placed it on the floor in the center of the room.

A faint purple light flickered on the surface of the wood chips, forming an invisible barrier that enveloped the room. This was both to protect Chen Shuyi's soul body from being eroded by Yang Qi and to isolate her Yin Qi to avoid affecting the people in the mansion.

"You can rest here for the time being," Li Muchen said. "I will find out Chen Shiru's whereabouts as soon as possible."

Chen Shuyi nodded, her gaze falling on the desk—there was a modern book there, "Research on Ming and Qing Fiction," which Lin Wenyuan usually read.

She reached out to touch it, but her fingers passed through the pages.

Her soul body trembled slightly.

"I... can no longer touch things," she smiled bitterly.

"After a long time, the soul body becomes weak," Li Muchen said. "Once the resentment is resolved and you move on to the afterlife, everything will be fine."

Chen Shuyi fell silent.

Afterlife.

These words were too distant for her. For over ninety years, she had been trapped at the bottom of a well, thinking that was eternity. She had never thought she would have a day to leave, a day for... the afterlife.

"Temple Master," she suddenly asked, "that girl... Xiaoyu, how is she?"

"Her mind is clouded, eroded by your resentment," Li Muchen said truthfully. "But I have temporarily suppressed it with a Talisman; she can hold on for two more days."

Chen Shuyi's soul body fluctuated violently.

"I... I'm sorry for her." Her voice choked up. "I really didn't mean it... I just... I just wanted someone to hear me so badly..."

"I know." Li Muchen's voice softened. "So, you must cooperate with me to resolve the resentment as soon as possible and return her to safety."

"What should I do?"

"Wait."

"Wait?"

"Wait for Professor Lin to find Chen Shiru's whereabouts," Li Muchen said. "The root of your resentment lies with him. Only by settling this Karma can you truly be free."

Chen Shuyi fell silent.

She looked out the window—though the curtains were tightly closed, her gaze seemed to penetrate everything, looking back to that autumn more than ninety years ago.

In the afternoon, Lin Wenyuan was busy in his study.

As a history professor, he had connections and resources. Although difficult, it was not impossible to look up a teacher from the republic of china era.

He first contacted friends at the provincial archives to review records of the republic of china's education System. Then he contacted the local history office to find records about Provincial No. 1 Girls Middle School in the local gazetteers. He even contacted the school's retired teachers' association to ask if any older generation of teachers still remembered someone named Chen Shiru.

Clues gathered bit by bit.

Towards evening, there was finally a Breakthrough.

"Found it!" Lin Wenyuan hurried into the guest room with several printed pages.

Li Muchen was telling Chen Shuyi about the changes in the world over the years—from the War of Resistance to the founding of the PRC, from the reform and opening up to the new century. Chen Shuyi listened intently; although there were many concepts she couldn't understand, she could feel the immense changes in this world.

"Chen Shiru, courtesy name Ziqian, born in the twenty-eighth year of the Guangxu era (1902), originally from Shaoxing, Zhejiang." Lin Wenyuan read the records from the archive. "Graduated from the Department of Chinese Literature at National Peking University in the fifteenth year of the republic of china (1926), and was hired as a Chinese teacher at Provincial No. 1 Girls Middle School in the same year."

"In the autumn of the twenty-sixth year of the republic of china (1937), he resigned and left the school for 'personal reasons.' The records state that he returned to his hometown after leaving."

"And then?" Li Muchen asked.

"Then it cuts off." Lin Wenyuan flipped to the next page. "I asked a friend in Shaoxing to check the local gazetteers. After Chen Shiru returned home, he did live in his hometown for a period. But after the outbreak of the War of Resistance, Shaoxing fell, and his whereabouts became unknown."

"Unknown?"

"Yes. There are several theories: one says he went to Chongqing and got a minor official position in the National Government; another says he went to Hong Kong to do business; and another theory..." Lin Wenyuan paused, "says after he returned to his hometown, he became mentally unstable and drowned himself in a river on a rainy night."

Hearing the words "drowned himself in a river," Chen Shuyi's soul body jolted.

"No..." she murmured, "he wouldn't... he's not the kind of person who would commit suicide..."

"Which theory is more credible?" Li Muchen asked.

"Hard to say." Lin Wenyuan shook his head. "Records from the republic of china are chaotic to begin with, and many people's whereabouts were lost during the war. However..."

He pulled out the last piece of paper: "I found a possible lead."

On the paper was an address:

"Hangzhou City, Xihu District, Nanshan Cemetery, Section C, Row 7, No. 12."

"This is?"

"A grave," Lin Wenyuan said. "The name carved on the tombstone is 'Grave of Mr. Chen Shiru.' The person who erected the stone is the 'unfilial son Chen Mingyuan,' and the date of erection was 1985."

Chen Shuyi floated over and looked at the paper.

Although she didn't recognize simplified characters, she still recognized the three characters for "Chen Shiru."

"He's... dead?" she asked softly.

"If this grave is real, then he passed away at least before 1985," Lin Wenyuan said. "Calculating it, if he had lived until 1985, he would have been 83 years old."

"1985..." Chen Shuyi murmured, "When I was trapped at the bottom of the well, he was already dead..."

She suddenly laughed.

It was a very bitter laugh.

"Ninety-plus years, I was trapped at the bottom of the well for over ninety years. And he... he died long ago, long ago laid to rest."

The black energy of her soul body began to surge again.

Li Muchen raised his hand and struck a burst of True Essence into the thunder-struck wood. The purple light flared, enveloping Chen Shuyi's soul body and calming her resentment.

"Calm down," he said in a deep voice. "Even if he is dead, the Karma remains. His descendants are still here, and his grave is still here."

He looked at Lin Wenyuan: "Can this Chen Mingyuan be found?"

"Currently checking," Lin Wenyuan said. "My friend in Hangzhou says Chen Mingyuan might be a local businessman in Hangzhou, in the construction materials business. I'm still waiting for specific information."

"As quickly as possible," Li Muchen said. "Time is running out."

Late at night, Quiet Garden fell into a deep sleep.

Li Muchen did not return to his room to rest but sat in the guest room, accompanying Chen Shuyi.

Soul bodies do not need sleep. She just floated in the room, sometimes looking out the window, sometimes looking at Li Muchen, her eyes dazed and sorrowful.

"Temple Master," she suddenly spoke, "do you think... before he died, did he ever think of me?"

Li Muchen was silent for a moment: "I don't know."

"I think... probably not." Chen Shuyi laughed self-mockingly. "To him, I was nothing more than a youthful fling, a trouble, a 'problem' that needed to be dealt with."

"Perhaps."

"But..." her voice lowered, "but to me, he was everything."

She looked at Li Muchen, and tears gathered in the eyes of her soul body—though they were soul tears, they were still crystal clear.

"I entered school at sixteen. In the first Chinese literature class, he stood on the podium, lecturing on the Classic of Poetry. 'Guan-guan go the ospreys, on the islet in the river. The modest, retiring, virtuous young lady: for our prince a good mate she.' His voice was so pleasant, like a clear spring in the mountains."

"The books he gave me, the poems he wrote for me, the promise that he would marry me... were those all fake?"

Li Muchen did not answer.

Some questions have no answers.

"Only later did I find out," Chen Shuyi continued, "that he was going to marry the principal's daughter. The principal could help him with promotions and give him a future. And I... I was just the daughter of an ordinary merchant; I could give him nothing."

"So he chose to abandon you," Li Muchen said.

"It was more than just abandonment." Chen Shuyi's soul body began to tremble. "He locked me in the basement and wouldn't let me see anyone. Later... later he had someone take me away and throw me into the well. He said it was 'clean' that way."

"'Clean'?" Li Muchen frowned.

"Yes, clean," Chen Shuyi laughed miserably. "If I died, no one would know about him and me. He could marry the principal's daughter with a clean slate, rise steadily in his career, and have a 'perfect' life."

She paused, her voice as light as a feather:

"But what about my child? My child died with me before even being born. He never even saw this world..."

The ball of light representing the infant in the soul body's arms seemed to sense its mother's sadness and flickered slightly.

Li Muchen looked at the ball of light and sighed inwardly.

Unborn Infant Spirits are the hardest to transcend. Because they have no memories or consciousness, only the purest desire for 'life.' This desire turns into the deepest obsession, entangled with the mother's resentment.

"Chen Shuyi," he said slowly, "once we find Chen Shiru's grave, what do you want to do?"

The soul body was silent for a long time.

"I want to... ask him a question."

"What question?"

"I want to ask him," Chen Shuyi looked up, her soul's eyes becoming clear and determined, "when he pushed me down the well back then, did he ever think about how cold it was at the bottom? Did he ever think about what it felt like for a seventeen-year-old girl to slowly die in the darkness?"

"And," she looked at the ball of light in her arms, "did he ever think that this unborn child should have called him 'father'?"

Her voice was very calm, but beneath that calmness was the accumulated pain of over ninety years.

Li Muchen nodded: "Alright. When we find definite information, I will take you there."

"Thank you." Chen Shuyi gave a deep bow.

Outside, the night was deep.

A faint sound of a bell came from afar—it was the evening bell from a temple near Quiet Garden.

Hearing the bell, Chen Shuyi's soul body gradually calmed down.

"Temple Master," she said softly, "do you know? When I was at the bottom of the well, what I feared most was not the darkness or the cold, but... the silence. That deathly silence can drive a person mad."

"So I kept talking, kept remembering, kept thinking about those beautiful things. I was afraid I would forget, afraid I would even forget who I was."

"But now..." she looked at Li Muchen, "now someone is listening to me. It's truly good."

Li Muchen did not speak, just sat quietly.

In the room, there was only the faint purple light from the thunder-struck wood and the slight sound of airflow as the soul body floated.

Not a word was spoken all night.

But some words do not need to be said aloud.

Some pains need to be heard.

Some injustices need to be redressed.

And this was exactly why Li Muchen was here.