Chapter 290

Chapter 290

◎Let’s Hold a Funeral◎

Though some people’s souls detach more easily, there's a significant difference between a soul departing on its own and being forcibly ripped out. Pulling someone's soul from their body by force risks damaging their spirit, potentially leaving them brain-damaged if done carelessly.

Though his shixiong (senior brother) would never be so reckless, Ji Nanxing still tensed up watching the forceful tug on the soul.

After a ripple of energy, a wispy silhouette drifted out of the body.

The soul looked identical to the physical form, proving Cheng Junan’s soul hadn’t been swapped. But once the soul was pulled out, Ji Yuanting immediately spotted the issue.

Thanks to his second sight, he could see lingering ghosts, though unlike Ji Nanxing, he couldn’t perceive certain auras. Still, his abilities allowed him to instantly discern whether a soul was tainted by evil energy or lingering Grudge.

Cheng Junan’s soul was clean—no Grudge clung to it, starkly contrasting the state of his body.

Ji Yuanting tsked. "There’s definitely something wrong here."

Old Master Cheng, unable to see the extracted soul, only noticed Ji Yuanting pulling something from his grandson’s body. Anxiously, he pressed, "What’s wrong? Did you find the issue with my grandson?"

Ji Nanxing turned to him. "The body and soul are one. Someone plagued by Grudge wouldn’t shed it just by separating from their body. Right now, your grandson’s soul has been pulled out by my brother, but the Grudge isn’t clinging to his soul. That’s clearly not right, though we’ll need to investigate further to pinpoint the exact problem."

Old Master Cheng’s eyes reddened instantly. "I told you Junan isn’t a bad child. He couldn’t have done anything evil."

Over the past days, every Taoist priest they’d brought in—along with family members—had suspected Cheng Junan of committing heinous deeds, all because of the so-called snakestring sore. Particularly the less skilled Taoists had insisted that "A Grudge-sore never lies."

Even Junan’s father had doubts. When one Taoist warned that forcibly suppressing the Grudge of someone who’d committed evil could escalate the curse from targeting one person to cursing an entire family, many in the Cheng clan urged Old Master Cheng to give up—why sacrifice the whole family for one person? After all, Junan wasn’t the only Cheng grandson.

But while the Cheng family had several grandsons, Junan was the only one Old Master Cheng had raised personally. He believed in his grandson and refused to give up, eventually tracking down Master Yan and hiring his disciples for a hefty sum.

Now, though the problem remained unsolved, proving his grandson’s innocence—that he wasn’t a bad child—made Old Master Cheng feel vindicated. Even if they ultimately failed to save Junan’s life, at least he wouldn’t bear the stain of those accusations.

Ji Nanxing rummaged through his small bag, pulling out spirit-nourishing incense, which he lit for Cheng Junan.

The dazed soul gradually regained clarity after being enveloped by the incense smoke.

The Cheng Junan lying on the bed was emaciated, covered in sores, his face deathly pale—clearly on the brink of death.

But the soul version of Cheng Junan, aside from being deathly pale, looked far more like a normal person.

Regaining awareness, Cheng Junan examined his hands and feet, then his weightless form, before turning his gaze to the body on the bed. After a moment of shock, he seemed to quickly accept reality. "So I’m dead. Turns out souls really exist. If souls are real, then the underworld must be too. Wonder what it’s like down there? If it’s not too scary, maybe I can send Grandpa a dream."

Just as Ji Nanxing was about to ask what kind of dream he wanted to send, Cheng Junan continued muttering, "Well, Grandpa’s old anyway—he’ll be down here sooner or later. Might as well prep him so he won’t be scared when the time comes."

Ji Nanxing: "...Your grandpa would be so touched."

Cheng Junan seemed to find floating around amusing, drifting around the room and inspecting things. "Ghosts aren’t afraid of sunlight? Huh, guess those novels got it wrong. Wait, this Taoist looks kinda familiar. Isn’t he a bit too young? No wonder he’s unreliable—just said I had at least three days left, and now I’m dead. Talk about a bad call, hahaha!"

Ji Yuanting side-eyed him, while Ji Nanxing, unable to listen any longer, spoke up. "You’re not dead yet."

Cheng Junan froze mid-mutter, staring at the young man in disbelief. "You can see me?"

Ji Nanxing: "Not just see—I can hear you too. Want me to pass along what you just said to your grandpa?"

Cheng Junan waved his hands in panic. "No, no, no!"

Old Master Cheng, seeing Ji Nanxing talk to thin air, grew agitated and turned toward the space. "Is that Junan? Junan, don’t be afraid! Grandpa won’t let anything happen to you!"

The previously acting utterly nonchalant about dying Cheng Junan changed his expression, his eyes reddening as he looked at Old Master Cheng: "Grandpa..."

Ji Yuanting pulled out a nearby chair and sat down, turning to Cheng Junan: "There's no time for dragging your feet. I temporarily extracted your soul from your body to confirm whether you're still yourself. Since you haven't undergone any soul replacement, yet the Grudge is clinging to your flesh but not your soul, it proves you've been deliberately cursed. Do you have any suspects or useful clues? Also, I said you have at most 72 hours left—not a minute more. If you don’t want to die, cooperate properly."

Cheng Junan stared at him for a moment before suddenly having an epiphany, "I remember now!"

Except for Old Master Cheng, who couldn’t see the soul, both Ji Nanxing and Ji Yuanting turned to look at him.

Cheng Junan said, "No wonder you looked so familiar—you're the Third Young Master Ji, right?"

He couldn’t recall the exact name, having not seen him in over a decade. Back then, he was just a little kid. Except for the youngest one, whose name was specially chosen by a fortune teller due to poor health, the rest of the Ji family all had names with "Ting." After so many years, he could only remember the birth order, not the specifics.

Seeing his senior brother’s exasperated expression, Ji Nanxing couldn’t help but chuckle. He hadn’t expected Cheng Junan to have such a personality.

The bewildered Old Master Cheng asked, "What’s going on?"

Ji Nanxing shook his head at him. "Your grandson has quite a cheerful personality."

On the verge of death, yet not the least bit nervous.

Cheng Junan coughed lightly and immediately straightened up. "Let’s get serious. I really can’t think of any clues about my condition. The blisters started around June. What I remember clearly is that it was the day of the Hill family’s coming-of-age ceremony. I attended the banquet, and the next day, I started feeling itchy. I thought it was an allergic reaction to something I ate. Since I had a lot on my plate, I delayed for a few days. When the itching worsened, I went to the hospital and received a medical diagnosis of urticaria. I took medicine and applied ointment without much thought. After finishing my work abroad, I returned to see Grandpa. By then, the blisters had gotten worse. I saw doctors here too, and they diagnosed it as herpes zoster. Eventually, it turned into this."

His body was covered in festering sores, every movement causing excruciating pain. From being unable to go out to being bedridden, and now, on the brink of death.

Ji Yuanting asked, "Do you have any enemies, or anyone with a grudge against you—romantic or otherwise?"

Cheng Junan glanced at Old Master Cheng, making sure he couldn’t see or hear him, before replying, "My father has a love child. Grandpa doesn’t know, nor does the rest of the family. Even my father didn’t know until recently—his ex-girlfriend hid the pregnancy from him. Then there’s my aunt, who wants her son to join the company. But my cousin has been into every vice imaginable abroad all these years—how could I let someone like that into the company? After I refused, my aunt threw multiple tantrums. And then there’s my uncle, who owes millions in debt outside. He hasn’t dared to let Grandpa know and begged me to help him pay it off. This isn’t the first time he’s been in debt. My uncle fails at everything he does but keeps hoping the next venture will succeed. I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve bailed him out. But the Cheng family isn’t a money-printing machine—cash doesn’t fall from the sky."

The Cheng family started as a family business. Such businesses thrive easily but are hard to sustain. Back then, if they hadn’t been struggling, they wouldn’t have relocated entirely. Later, they undertook sweeping reforms, enduring immense pressure and dissatisfaction to reach where they are today.

After finally getting those who only reap benefits without working to settle for dividends, how could they let them back into the company to wreak havoc?

Grandpa was old and long past the energy to manage the company, no longer keeping up with the times. All these years, Cheng Junan had been holding things together inside and out. For relatives who came begging, he helped where he could and refused when he couldn’t. The more he refused, the more people resented him—some even wishing him dead.

So when this happened, though many didn’t openly gloat (since Grandpa was still around and the will could be amended at any moment—keeping up appearances had to be maintained), who knew how eagerly they were waiting for him to die?

Ji Yuanting asked, "Out of these people, who do you think is the most likely suspect?"

Time was pressing. He couldn’t investigate each lead individually. With the Grudge inexplicably locked onto Cheng Junan’s body, even a causality talisman might not be of much use. The only way to save Cheng Junan was to find the source quickly.

Cheng Junan thought for a moment. "Feels like everyone is the most likely, yet also the least likely."

This wasn’t just empty talk. If he’d been haunted by a lingering ghost or cursed with dark magic, Cheng Junan might have had a suspect ranking. But he knew what a snakestring sore was—simply put, it required immense hatred, possibly from many people, to generate such terrifying Grudge.

Many of his relatives wanted him dead. Some might’ve even buried curse papers or made voodoo dolls. But who had the ability to concentrate such powerful resentment onto him? Cheng Junan truly couldn’t figure it out.

Ji Yuanting said, "If you can’t think of anyone, then let’s flush the snake out of its den."

Cheng Junan looked intrigued. "How?"

Ji Yuanting ignored him and turned to Old Master Cheng instead. "Announce Cheng Junan’s death. Once the snake shows itself, catching it will be much easier."

Beside them, Cheng Junan let out an incredulous gasp. "Does this count as getting to attend my own funeral while still alive?"

Ji Nanxing added, "Not just your funeral—you’re also getting a taste of the afterlife while still alive. Quite novel, isn’t it?"

Cheng Junan: "...” It was novel, but something about that sounded creepy.