Chapter 95: What Is a Sacrifice

“Is everything ready?”

In the old mansion, in the secret room opposite the red room, the elderly woman sat upright in the grand chair, eyes half-open, staring at Chen Fu, who looked tense.

Chen Fu hastily replied, “Aunt, the portrait has already been placed in the coffin. Though a small accident occurred just now, it’s still under our control.”

The elderly woman’s youthful eyebrows knitted together, and her eyes suddenly widened.

“Why was there an accident?”

Sensing her anger, Chen Fu’s legs gave way, and he fell to the ground, burying his head as low as possible.

“It’s still because of that matter… we weren’t careful enough, which has caused unrest within the mansion, and moreover…”

He seemed particularly wary of that matter, even more so than of the portrait itself.

The elderly woman’s aura suddenly shifted; her previous authority faded, replaced by weariness.

“Just five more to go. Once completed, I will be reborn. The Li family will be yours from now on.”

She leaned on her cane and slowly left the secret room.

Halfway through, she paused and, without turning, asked, “Fu’er, you haven’t hidden anything from me, have you?”

“No!”

Satisfied with the answer, she finally departed.

Her slightly stooped figure gave no hint of the youthful appearance her face suggested.

Chen Fu slowly raised his head, his pale face fixed on her departing silhouette.

Through gritted teeth, he muttered to himself:

“Old woman, everything you have now is because of me. Once the last five are done, it’s time to collect what’s owed!”

The five well-fed staff sat in the main hall, waiting for the elderly woman to arrive.

From what Yu Guo had overheard, they were indeed to participate in the funeral procession.

But this procession seemed entirely different from last night.

Before the procession even began, four people had already died silently and suddenly.

It was clear the ghost placed great importance on this funeral.

What puzzled Yu Guo was that, if the procession was a sacrificial ritual for the ghost, why would the ghost kill the pallbearers?

It made no sense.

For a moment, he even suspected that all the intelligence they had gathered might be false.

While waiting for the elderly woman, the staff double-checked the mission details and the gathered intelligence, fearful of a repeat of last night’s alterations.

In the end, they were astonished.

The clues and the mission were correct; everything pointed to a sacrifice.

Yet the ghost’s contradictory behavior remained utterly incomprehensible.

At that moment, the elderly woman entered the hall with Chen Fu, followed by Xiao Zhu and a few servants.

Upon seeing Fang Shenyan’s severely injured figure, she frowned slightly but did not ask questions. Instead, she said softly:

“Gentlemen, I suppose you extraordinary people caused quite a commotion in my mansion last night, but that doesn’t matter. As long as you can complete the upcoming task, all past matters are forgiven.”

Her calm demeanor immediately provoked Chang Nian.

Chang Nian was volatile, especially resistant to force. Normally mild, but if things went against her, she would explode.

She slammed the table, stood abruptly, and pointed at Chen Fu:

“Bringing us here yesterday was already malicious. Even if I tore the Li Mansion apart, what could you do?”

The elderly woman remained unfazed, simply glancing at Chang Nian and saying softly:

“If that’s so, why didn’t you leave yesterday?”

“I…”

Chang Nian was momentarily speechless. They hadn’t wanted to come, but leaving was impossible. Staying put meant the mission could be completed; leaving would doom it.

Tongguan tugged at her sleeve, urging her to sit, while he stood.

He first glanced at Chen Fu, then at the elderly woman, and spoke deliberately:

“Our objectives are different.

“We are partners, not your servants.”

Chen Fu sneered, clearly dismissing Tongguan’s talk of partnership. He was about to speak when his eyes met Fang Shenyan’s dark, steady gaze.

Fang Shenyan said nothing. He merely narrowed his eyes at Chen Fu, then looked toward the elderly woman—doing nothing more.

That restraint came from what he had learned the previous night.

Chen Fu had clearly arranged to meet someone in a place no one would suspect, hiding something that could not be revealed.

It was now obvious whose eyes Chen Fu wished to keep that secret from.

Though Fang Shenyan didn’t know the details, he understood that this secret was his strongest weapon against Chen Fu.

When Tongguan and the others had discussed ways to keep Chen Fu in check, Fang Shenyan had only written the word kill, saying nothing of this leverage.

For now, in his weakened state, it was his means of self-protection.

As expected, when Chen Fu caught Fang Shenyan’s meaningful glance, he froze.

A chill ran through him as he remembered the elderly woman’s sudden question in the secret room.

He did have something to hide—and it was far too important for her to discover.

Chen Fu’s lips parted, but Fang Shenyan’s look forced the words back down.

The elderly woman chuckled softly and waved the two attendants away.

“Then let us begin our cooperation. I will see that you survive.”

Tongguan knew this was only polite talk and gave no reply. He pulled Chang Nian by the arm and followed the elderly woman out of the hall.

The others rose in turn.

Only Chen Fu, passing Fang Shenyan, paused for a heartbeat and hissed, “She says you’ll live. I say you’ll die.”

Before long, they arrived at the rear courtyard.

This was the Li Mansion’s back alley, flanked by houses the family had purchased to store coffins and funeral supplies.

A group of sturdy young men, all in white mourning robes, stood waiting—clearly another set of hired hands.

The elderly woman had no intention of going farther; she remained at the rear door, leaving everything to Chen Fu.

This time, Tongguan and the others were not to carry the coffin. Instead, they took up mourning banners and mingled with the funeral procession.

Tao Xiaoyi looked uneasily at Yu Guo’s back. “If they didn’t force us to join the procession, why must we go along?”

Yu Guo’s usual playfulness faded. He scattered a handful of paper money and watched the yellow slips drift through the air.

“If this is truly a sacrifice, then the Li family has already lost no fewer than thirty people—yet there have only been twelve funerals, including the four coffin-bearers who just died.

It’s as if those deaths aren’t counted among the sacrificial lives.

If we want to understand the real purpose of this procession, we have to see it with our own eyes—see what they hope to gain.”