57: Tracing the trail in Hangzhou, the cemetery is shrouded in mist.

At eight o'clock the next morning, Lin Wenyuan brought definite news.

"I found him." He walked into the guest room with a fax, his expression somewhat complex. "Chen Mingyuan, born in 1955, currently lives in Hangzhou and runs a building materials company. It's on a small scale, but stable. His wife is a local, and they have a son studying abroad."

He paused and looked at Chen Shuyi, who was floating in the corner of the room. "However... he might not know about Chen Shiru's affairs."

"Why do you say that?" Li Muchen asked.

"Chen Mingyuan is Chen Shiru's grandson," Lin Wenyuan explained. "Chen Shiru had two sons: the eldest, Chen Wen Bin, and the second, Chen Wenhao. Chen Mingyuan is Chen Wen Bin's son. And Chen Wen Bin... died in a car accident when Chen Mingyuan was only three years old. So, Chen Mingyuan has almost no memory of his grandfather; he was raised by his mother."

Chen Shuyi's soul body vibrated slightly.

"Grandson..." she murmured. "He actually had a grandson..."

"Furthermore," Lin Wenyuan continued, "according to a friend in Hangzhou, Chen Mingyuan knows very little about his grandfather's affairs. He only knows his grandfather was named Chen Shiru, was a teacher, and died very early. The tombstone was erected by Chen Wenhao—his uncle—in 1985. But Chen Wenhao also passed away in 1998."

The clues were cut off.

Or rather, they had shifted beneath a mound of yellow earth.

Li Muchen pondered for a moment. "Has the specific location of the grave been confirmed?"

"Confirmed." Lin Wenyuan handed over a piece of paper. "Nanshan Cemetery, Area C, Row 7, No. 12. My friend also took a photo of the tombstone."

The photo was taken with a mobile phone and had low resolution, but the tombstone was clearly visible: a plain bluestone tablet with "Tomb of Mr. Chen Shiru" carved in the center. Small characters on the right read, "Born in the 28th year of the Guangxu era, death date unknown," and the inscription on the left read, "Erected by filial sons Chen Wen Bin and Chen Wenhao, Qingming Festival, 1985 AD."

The area in front of the tomb was very clean, with no incense or offerings, clearly not having been visited for a long time.

"Death date unknown..." Li Muchen looked at Chen Shuyi. "It seems even his descendants don't know exactly when he died."

Chen Shuyi remained silent.

After more than ninety years, she thought she would feel many emotions: hate, resentment, unwillingness. But seeing that person's tombstone for real, her heart was only left with an empty sense of loss.

That person was truly dead.

He died silently, and no one even remembered the time of his death.

"Abbot," she said softly, "I want to go see it."

Li Muchen nodded. "Alright."

On the high-speed rail to Hangzhou, Li Muchen, Lin Wenyuan, and Zhao Xiaowen traveled together. Li Shiyu stayed at Quiet Garden—she needed to look after Lin Xiaoyu, and for this kind of occasion, having too many people would be inconvenient.

Chen Shuyi's soul body still couldn't enter the carriage and could only float on the roof. Fortunately, the high-speed rail was fast and had a streamlined design, so she could press close to the roof and not be dissipated by the wind.

Two and a half hours later, they arrived at Hangzhou East Station.

Hangzhou in July was muggy and humid. As soon as they left the station, a heatwave hit them, and the air was filled with the mixed scent of plane trees and car exhaust.

Lin Wenyuan's friend was already waiting at the exit—a man in his forties wearing glasses, surnamed Wang, who was a local gazetteer researcher in Hangzhou.

"Professor Lin, this is..." Researcher Wang looked at Li Muchen, his gaze lingering for a moment on his slate-gray Daoist robe.

"This is Daoist Master Li, the head of Qingfeng Temple on Yuntai Mountain," Lin Wenyuan introduced. "This matter... is somewhat special and requires the Abbot's help."

Researcher Wang had clearly heard of the reputation of "Qingfeng Temple." His expression shifted, but he didn't ask much, simply nodding. "The car is outside. I'll take you to Nanshan Cemetery."

The car was an ordinary black sedan. It drove out of the station and merged into Hangzhou's busy traffic.

On the way, Researcher Wang briefly introduced the situation.

"Nanshan Cemetery is an old graveyard; it's been there since the republic of china era. Many old Hangzhou locals are buried there. Chen Shiru's grave is in Area C, which is the old section, so the tombstones are quite weathered."

"What about his descendants? Has Chen Mingyuan been there recently?" Lin Wenyuan asked.

"I've inquired. Chen Mingyuan goes there about once every two or three years," Researcher Wang shook his head. "After all, they are separated by two generations, so the bond isn't deep. Plus, he's busy with business and travels all year round."

"Then... does anyone know the cause of Chen Shiru's death?"

"That's really not clear," Researcher Wang said. "I asked a few elders, and they all said that after Chen Shiru returned from the provincial capital, he seemed a bit off. He shut himself at home all day and saw no one. Then one day, a neighbor noticed no movement in his house, pushed the door open, and he was already dead. The cause of death... was said to be a sudden illness, but no one knows exactly what disease it was."

A sudden illness.

Li Muchen sneered inwardly.

It probably wasn't as simple as an illness.

The car entered Xihu District and drove along Nanshan Road. Both sides were lined with lush plane trees, their thick shade blocking out most of the sunlight. In the distance, the silhouette of Leifeng Pagoda was faintly visible through the green trees.

Nanshan Cemetery was near Leifeng Pagoda, built against the mountain in a quiet environment.

Researcher Wang parked the car at the cemetery entrance.

"I won't go in." He handed over a business card. "Call me if you need anything."

The three of them got out of the car.

There was a small shop at the cemetery entrance selling incense, candles, and paper money. The grave keeper was an old man in his sixties who was reading a newspaper.

"Sweeping a grave?" the old man asked, looking up.

"Yes, Area C, Row 7, No. 12," Lin Wenyuan said.

The old man flipped through a ledger, registered their names and ID numbers, and then handed over three free sticks of incense. "Area C is on the mountain. Follow this path up, and turn right when you see the 'C' road sign."

After thanking the old man, the three of them entered the cemetery.

The cemetery was large and divided into several areas. Areas A and B were at the foot of the mountain, with tidy tombstones that were clearly well-maintained. Area C was halfway up the mountain, and the tombstones were noticeably older; many inscriptions were blurred, and weeds grew before the graves.

Walking up the flagstone path, the air was filled with the mixed scent of incense and vegetation.

Chen Shuyi's soul body floated behind the three of them. The further up they went, the more violently her soul body fluctuated—not from excitement, but from... an instinctive rejection.

This was a cemetery. Although the Yang Qi was weak, the Death Qi was dense. To a resentful spirit like her, it was like walking into enemy territory.

"Can you hold on?" Li Muchen asked in a low voice.

"I can," Chen Shuyi's voice trembled slightly. "It's just... uncomfortable."

Finally, they found Row 7 of Area C.

This row had over twenty graves, most of which were very dilapidated. No. 12 was in the middle, and the tombstone was indeed as it appeared in the photo: plain and unremarkable.

There were no weeds in front of the tombstone, as the cemetery clearly had periodic cleanings. But that was all; there were no flowers, no offerings, just a cold desolation.

Lin Wenyuan inserted the three sticks of incense into the burner before the stone and lit them.

Wisps of blue smoke rose into the air.

Li Muchen walked to the tombstone and pressed his palm against its surface.

His Spiritual Sense extended down through the stone, through the soil, and through the coffin... Inside the coffin, there was indeed a skeleton.

Male, about 1.7 meters tall, and around eighty years old at the time of death. The skeleton was well-preserved, with no signs of external trauma.

But—

At the position of the skeleton's brow, there was a faint residue of black energy.

It wasn't resentment, but... a curse.

Someone had placed a curse on him after his death.

The content of the curse was... never to be reincarnated for all eternity.

Li Muchen withdrew his hand, his brow furrowed.

"Abbot?" Lin Wenyuan noticed his expression was off.

"The tombstone is fake," Li Muchen said slowly.

"Fake?" Lin Wenyuan was stunned.

"The grave is real, and the bones are real," Li Muchen said. "But the identity 'Tomb of Mr. Chen Shiru' carved on the tombstone—that identity is fake."

He pointed at the tombstone. "If this person were truly Chen Shiru, why would he be cursed after death to never be reincarnated? Who would do such a thing? Who would hate him that much?"

Chen Shuyi's soul body floated to the tombstone and tremblingly reached out—though she couldn't touch it, her movement was as if she were stroking the cold stone.

"It's him..." she murmured. "I can feel it... it's his aura."

After more than ninety years, she still remembered that person's aura.

The refined gentleman on the lecture podium, the man who made promises to her under the moonlight, the murderer who pushed her to the bottom of the well in the darkness.

"But... why?" She looked up at Li Muchen. "Why would someone curse him? To make him never be reincarnated?"

Li Muchen didn't answer but looked deeper into the cemetery.

His Spiritual Sense was fully open, covering the entire Area C.

Then, he discovered an anomaly.

About fifty meters from this grave, there was another—Area C, Row 3, No. 8. The tombstone was carved with "Tomb of the Late Mother, Lady Liu of the Chen Family," and the ones who erected it were the "unfilial sons Chen Wen Bin and Chen Wenhao." The date of erection was also 1985.

Two graves, the same people erecting them, and in the same year.

Furthermore, the aura of that "Lady Liu's" grave was very clean, without any curse, only a faint, sorrowful attachment.

"Layman Lin," Li Muchen pointed in that direction, "have you checked that grave?"

Lin Wenyuan looked over and shook his head. "No. The records only mentioned Chen Shiru's grave."

"Let's go take a look."

The three of them walked to Area C, Row 3, No. 8.

The tombstone was newer and cleaner than Chen Shiru's. There was even a bouquet of dried flowers before the grave, clearly left by someone who had visited recently.

The photo on the tombstone was of a middle-aged woman with a gentle face and soft eyes.

"Lady Liu..." Lin Wenyuan frowned. "Chen Shiru's wife? No, the records say Chen Shiru married the principal's daughter, surnamed Zhang."

Li Muchen once again pressed his palm against the stone surface.

His Spiritual Sense went deep.

Inside the coffin was also a skeleton, female, about fifty years old at death. The skeleton was very clean, with no curse; instead, it was wrapped in a layer of faint, warm energy—the thoughts of her relatives, the protection of filial piety.

But what caught Li Muchen's attention more was that on the left wrist of this skeleton, there was a jade bracelet.

On the jade bracelet, two words were carved:

"Ruyan."

Li Muchen snapped his eyes open.

"Ruyan..." he murmured. "Liu Ruyan?"

Chen Shuyi's soul body vibrated violently.

"Sister Ruyan?" Her voice carried an unbelievable tremor.

"You know her?" Li Muchen asked.

"Liu Ruyan... was my best friend at the Girls' Middle School." Chen Shuyi's soul body began to destabilize, black Qi surging. "She was two years older than me and looked after me like an older sister. But... but in the 25th year of the republic of china, she dropped out of school. Her family said she was sick and had gone home to recuperate. After that... there was never any more news."

She floated to the tombstone, looking at the gentle woman in the photo.

"It's her... it's really her. Although she had aged, I recognize her... she is Sister Ruyan."

Thoughts raced through Li Muchen's mind.

Liu Ruyan, Chen Shuyi's good friend, dropped out in the 25th year of the republic of china, and later married Chen Shiru? Became "Lady Liu of the Chen family"?

No.

The timing was wrong.

If Liu Ruyan dropped out in the 25th year of the republic of china, what was the reason? If she later married Chen Shiru, why did Chen Shuyi know nothing about it?

And why, when Chen Shuyi was imprisoned and murdered, did Liu Ruyan not save her? Or rather... did Liu Ruyan even know about it?

More importantly, why was Chen Shiru cursed after death, while Liu Ruyan's grave was perfectly clean?

"Abbot," Lin Wenyuan said in a low voice, "this matter... is getting more and more complicated."

Li Muchen nodded.

He looked at these two graves not far apart, one cursed to never be reincarnated, and the other tenderly remembered by family.

And there was that unsolved mystery: what role did Liu Ruyan play in this past story?

"Layman Lin," he turned around, "investigate Liu Ruyan. Find out the reason for her dropping out in the 25th year of the republic of china, her later whereabouts, and her... relationship with Chen Shiru."

"Alright."

Li Muchen looked at Chen Shuyi again. "Now, do you still want to ask him questions?"

Chen Shuyi looked at Chen Shiru's tombstone, then at Liu Ruyan's, and her soul body remained silent for a long time.

Finally, she shook her head gently.

"I don't."

"Why?"

"Because..." her voice was very soft, like a sigh, "I suddenly feel that asking those questions no longer has any meaning."

She floated to Liu Ruyan's tombstone and reached out, wanting to touch the photo.

"Sister Ruyan... you are here too."

"Have you had a good life all these years?"

"Did you ever... think of me?"

The wind blew through the cemetery, and the leaves rustled.

As if in answer.

Or perhaps, it was just the wind.