Chapter 50

Chapter 50

The group of people were all confused, like, what the heck…

One has the *fortune* from 'rising high,' the other has the *fortune* from 'clear and peaceful rivers.'

Li Hao shamelessly cut He Yunxiao off before he could even speak, "Who can you blame for this? Same tone! You should blame Old Mr. Zhao's dad for not adding the three-water radical to his name!"

Wang Dong and his little yes-men immediately nodded, saying to the enraged young master Zhao, "Exactly, exactly. It's your great-grandfather's fault for not giving a proper name."

Even He Yunxiao and the others only knew the sound of the philanthropist's name; they hadn't paid much attention to the actual characters. Could this really be blamed on Dr. Wu? Of course not! He was self-taught, never having attended elementary school. It wasn't easy for him to learn to write by himself, was it?

He Yunxiao had a nagging feeling that something was off. That evening, when he went to visit the dying professor at his apartment, it seemed the professor had the same name.

Being a middle schooler, young master Zhao couldn't argue with a bunch of shameless senior students. He was so furious he screamed, "You bunch of assholes, taking my money and not doing jack! I want my grandfather, I want my grandfather to always be with me."

The South Seas master was hiding in the shadows of the crowd. This mess wasn't caused by him, so it wasn't his problem.

A fierce wind blew, lifting the yellow paper and exposing the eight characters Wu Heng had written with the three-water radical.

"That's not my grandpa's birthdate, you're doing someone else's work, you asshole," young master Zhao shouted at Wu Heng, jumping up and down as if he'd caught Wu Heng in the act.

Nowadays, people slack off and take money for doing nothing, but he even took money to do someone else's job.

Do you have any idea how much this drone light show costs? It's a seven-figure sum!

Young master Zhao suddenly met Shi Xuan's cold gaze and flinched back.

Wu Heng didn't show the slightest embarrassment, still smiling brightly. "Yeah, how come someone else's birthdate can light up the sky, but Old Mr. Zhao's can't?"

Is this the will of the heavens?

The first two attempts to light the sky lanterns failed mysteriously, but this time, the Big Dipper hung high, the bright moon lit up the sky, and the flickering candlelight stayed lit.

Zhao Qingyun was filled with indescribable sorrow and resentment. He had dedicated his life to charity, but now he wasn't being recognized. A name he didn't recognize was up in the sky, the lanterns never extinguishing. How could he be willing to accept this?

"Pay up, you don't deserve the money! Pay up!" young master Zhao shouted angrily at Wu Heng, wishing he could jump up and punch Wu Heng's elegant nose.

Wu Heng shot back, "Pay what? I actually did some work. Old Mr. Zhao, you should thank me. I used your money to light a sky lantern for Professor Zhao. When you go to the underworld and suffer less, that's a blessing."

Looking at the half-baked South Seas master, did he really understand how to light sky lanterns and ask the heavens? He was just greedy for the two hundred million, risking causing a fire by launching sky lanterns, adding more sins to his crimes.

"Dr. Wu, how does one suffer less?" He Yunxiao asked curiously.

Things about the underworld were mysterious. They were afraid, but also filled with curiosity.

Of course, it's when you go barefoot up the ninety-nine levels of the blade mountain, but you only go up ninety-eight and a half levels. However, Wu Heng used a more understandable analogy for He Yunxiao and the others, "It's like when you're executed by a gun. Instead of two bullets, you only get one."

He Yunxiao's group was speechless. "..."

What's the difference between two bullets and one? You're going to die either way!

Wu Heng smiled again. Old Mr. Zhao had wronged so many poor people, using evil techniques to falsely extend his lifespan, but he had indeed done some charity work. Otherwise, with the capabilities of Capital City Science and Technology University, organizing a drone light show would be a piece of cake.

"The heavens are unjust, the heavens are unjust," Zhao Qingyun gasped heavily, sadness filling his heart.

"Grandfather, don't go." Seeing his crying grandson throw himself into his arms, a glimmer of comfort appeared in Zhao Qingyun's dying, cloudy eyes.

At the very least, in his dying moments, he could look at his most concerned grandson. This grandson might have his flaws and was even spoiled by him, but the bond between grandfather and grandson was real.

The ritual return cards that those people burned were probably already processed. In his dying moments, Zhao Qingyun saw the scene before him differently. Dimly, he saw two figures surrounded by black mist.

The black-robed figure behind him was filled with yin energy, and his deathly pale face exuded anger.

In front, a white figure was running rapidly, like a monkey scrambling, wearing a patched white windbreaker.

"Black... Black and White Impermanence?" Zhao Qingyun murmured.

There were plenty of folk tales. Zhao Qingyun knew that Black and White Impermanence were colleagues.

Apparently, even colleagues in the underworld didn’t get along well. The White Impermanence was doing far worse than the Black Impermanence, wearing patched work clothes.

But why did the White Impermanence have a shadow?

"Dr. Chen Zhao? What brings you here?" Li Hao exclaimed in surprise seeing the rapidly approaching young man.

Chen Zhao completely ignored Li Hao. Like a monkey, he scrambled to the back of Wu Heng, clung to the hem of Wu Heng's clothes, and panted heavily, "I can't handle it, I really can't. It's too difficult to stall the yin emissary. Dr. Wu, you deal with it yourself."

Zhao Qingyun's stiff mind was churning. He hadn't died yet. One of the figures was indeed a yin emissary, but the other was a living person.

Wu Heng looked at the yin emissary's angry face as he quickly approached and asked, "What exactly did you do?"

Unless they were near death, living people with strong yang energy couldn't see the yin emissary. He Yunxiao and the others only felt a chill and instinctively rubbed their arms, then moved a little away from Shi Xuan. Young Master Shi was, for no apparent reason, releasing yin energy again.

Shi Xuan: "?"

The black-robed yin emissary, holding a lantern with the words 'No Entry for the Living' written on it, thought Wu Heng was a master making a living from metaphysics in the mortal world. His furious lifeless face almost pressed against Wu Heng as he pointed at Chen Zhao behind him and coldly said:

'He, grabbed my money!'

Wu Heng: "...?"

The yin emissary really hadn't expected that there was actually a Daoist Physician in the mortal world who dared to snatch money from a yin emissary!

Tonight, he had taken on a good job, bringing the child of a great meritorious person to the mortal world to escort Zhao Qingyun to the underworld. But at the professor's apartment, the old professor was still clinging to his last breath with strong willpower. The Beijing yin emissary was originally waiting, but then a shaky Daoist Physician approached him and started a conversation.

As they chatted about the current exchange rate in the underworld, the Beijing yin emissary, who was already dissatisfied with the junior yin emissary's work, immediately opened up.

They were talking about ghost money when the Daoist Physician suddenly grabbed his money and ran outside.

The Beijing yin emissary was stunned for a moment before abandoning Zhao Qingyun's child ghost and chasing after Chen Zhao. That was his hard-earned money.

'Give me back my money!'

Wu Heng was speechless for a moment and immediately turned around to snatch a stack of paper money from Chen Zhao's hand and return it to the yin emissary.

Wu Heng: "Have you always wanted to snatch money from a yin emissary? Do you even have any use for this money?"

Chen Zhao awkwardly replied, "No, I've never touched that much money before. My hand just moved a little faster than my brain. When he chased me from behind, I could only run. Besides, what else could I do to stall the yin emissary? Talk about love and romance? Dr. Wu doesn't seem like the straightforward type, but I'm a straight guy!"

The Beijing yin emissary cursed angrily, 'The money down here is now less valuable than Zimbabwe dollars. You're really not human!'

He Yunxiao and the others finally noticed who had just appeared before them.

They silently chose to move closer to Shi Xuan.

Shi Xuan: "……?"

The yin emissary was pissed and was about to hurry back to take Zhao Qingyun to the underworld. However, an eerie ticking sound came from the tablet inside the lantern.

The Beijing big shot yin emissary took out his work tablet and checked the group messages. His already angry expression was filled with the suffering of a workhorse. He cursed and looked up at the night sky.

In the night sky, drones were putting on a light show, but the Big Dipper shone steadily.

It was probably a master in the mortal world who had lit a sky lantern for Zhao Qingyun to extend his life.

Few masters in the mortal world had the skill to light sky lanterns and extend life. His bad luck had led him to run into a big shot.

'Damn it, who lit the lantern and increased my workload? Damn, I wasted a trip for nothing.' The Beijing big shot yin emissary gritted his teeth and cursed.

He had come with great joy to receive a great benefactor, but now his superior had messaged him to temporarily halt the mission. On top of that, a Daoist physician had robbed him of his money, and he didn’t know where he had run off to.

All for nothing tonight.

Wu Heng felt a little guilty and immediately reassured him, "Great Lord Yin Emissary, it’s not a wasted trip, no way."

Wu Heng pointed to the barely breathing Zhao Qingyun on the sickbed, "Take him, this is also Zhao Qingyun, just missing three water radicals."

Zhao Qingyun’s hollow eyes suddenly widened in shock.

They were really here to take him. He was about to leave this world…… Even the few months of life he had painfully bought were being taken back.

Zhao Qingyun’s weak hand tightly held his wailing grandson and gently patted his back.

The black-robed yin emissary stared at the old man and checked his information, confirming that he could be taken at this time. He sighed, 'Both are Zhao Qingyun. I thought it would at least be a decent imitation, but it’s not even a cheap substitute. Unlucky.'

Escorting such a soul wanted by the underworld actually counted as decent work, but emissaries actually preferred to receive great benefactors. Along the way, they might gain some merit, which would benefit their career as yin emissaries.

Zhao Qingyun could hear what the yin emissary was saying, and the fear of dying made him breathe heavily.

Grandson, how would his grandson manage alone in this world?

Seeing the old man’s fear, Wu Heng comforted, "Old Master Zhao, don’t be afraid. The underworld has all your family members, and they will take care of you as a newcomer."

He Yunxiao was startled and emphasized, "All family members?"

A group of tenors shot strange glances at Zhao’s grandson, wondering if this was a hidden pearl overlooked by the sea.

Li Hao thought for a moment and exclaimed, "Holy crap, could this not be his real grandson? Was he cuckolded? Wait, was it his son who was cuckolded, or has it been happening since this old man’s time?"

Upon hearing that guess, Zhao Qingyun suddenly grabbed the bed rail and stared fixedly at Wu Heng.

Wu Heng said seriously, "I’ve said it before, heaven is fair."

He had long broken the rules by buying the lifespans of the poor. Zhao Qingyun’s children had depended on him for everything, and the retribution came, and they died one after another.

Only this grandson without blood relation was left.

Zhao Qingyun stared at Wu Heng in disbelief. His only obsession with life had been this grandson, and it was for him that he had organized a seminar on difficult diseases, inviting famous doctors to extend his life for five more years so he could see his grandson grow up. But now, the grandson was not his real grandson?

His love had stemmed from blood relation; his love’s foundation was a real grandson, a basic condition. Now, it had become a joke?

Zhao Qingyun, not knowing where he got the strength, sat up as if experiencing a deathbed rally, tore off the breathing mask on his face, and gasped for breath heavily.

"How is it possible? I am my grandfather's real grandson!" Zhao Sun shouted in terror.

The news that Zhao Qingyun was on his deathbed had already spread within the family. By the time the Zhao family members arrived, they heard the shocking revelation.

A lean camel is still bigger than a horse. Although the Zhao Charity Foundation had fallen apart, the Zhao family still had considerable assets left.

If Zhao Sun wasn't a real grandson, why should he inherit Zhao Qingyun's property? These nieces and nephews were related by blood to Zhao Qingyun after all.

Zhao Qingyun's mind was filled with Wu Heng's words. He looked at his chaotic and noisy family and finally passed away with endless regrets.

‘He's gone, and I need to take Zhao Qingyun's children as well,’ the Beijing big shot said, uninterested in the Zhao family's quarrel, as he took out the soul-binding rope and bound Zhao Qingyun's soul.

Having become a ghost, Zhao Qingyun looked at the bewildered Zhao Sun and saw the difference.

Damn, really not a real grandson.

All that effort for nothing.

Wu Heng gestured outside, and a group of people left the Zhao family and returned to Capital City Science and Technology University.

The hashtag #Zhao Qingyun's Death# quickly trended.

Netizens were about to turn in for the night when they stumbled upon this fresh gossip.

Zhao Qingyun actually is dead!

Not due to a sudden illness, but simply organ failure from aging.

“Wow, who would dare say that Wu Heng is just a fake doctor? Zhao Qingyun really died. Looks like the return cards burned at the City God Temple were fast-tracked.”

“Old man Zhao was indeed not doing well and could only sit in a wheelchair, but hadn't been at death's door. It was really due to the return and refund. I'm impressed; this young shaman is actually skilled.”

“Wait, something's off, right? Beijing netizens were live-streaming the sky lantern event at his house. I heard the third lantern was actually a drone light show, and it's still lit up now. So how could he be dead? Is the master's skill lacking, or is this purely superstitious activity, just wishful thinking?”

“I heard a name was written wrong. Oops. What a mix-up.”

A staff member controlling the drone, who had a bit of courage, secretly took a photo of the information and posted it online, much to the amusement of netizens.

“Haha, wow, no wonder the Southeast Asian master didn't work. They wrote Zhao Qingyun as Zhao Qingyun. The old man would haunt him even as a ghost.”

“A million-dollar drone light show, and they got the name wrong. When I think about the mistakes I made at work, it's reassuring.”

“Not sure if it's a coincidence, but there's an old professor named Zhao Qingyun who is in critical condition tonight at Capital City Science and Technology University.”

“Who is Zhao Qingyun? Never heard of him.”

Fan Tu quickly expressed in her fan group, “Doesn't this look like Hengheng's handwriting?”

The Fan family were among the few who had seen Wu Heng's handwritten prescriptions.

Fan Tu also heard from her annoying younger brother Fan Xuan that Wu Heng had visited the professor's apartment at Capital City Science and Technology University today. What a coincidence, isn't it?

*

Zhao Qingyun comfortably leaned back on the hospital bed, smiling as he listened to his long-deceased children talk about the bright future ahead.

People feared the unknown of death, but Zhao Qingyun thought that life in the underworld might not be as terrifying as imagined. His beloved family was waiting for him there.

His son comforted him, “Dad, as long as you decline the underworld's reincarnation preferential policy and queue normally, we can reunite in the underworld and live a peaceful life for a few more years.”

‘Dad, come with us. Mom has already cleaned the house and is waiting for you.’

"Our new home is built outside the River Styx. There's a withered tree there, and the old guys from the neighborhood often play chess under it. Old Zheng is a terrible chess player. He's not that good but loves giving unsolicited advice. When he loses, he throws himself into the River Styx. When Dad arrives, he'll give him a good scolding."

"There's an Underworld Department Store near our community. It's said all the goods are fresh items burned from the mortal world. We haven't gone grocery shopping together in years. We'll go when Dad arrives. The convenient payment system isn't great yet, but we can use ghost money anyway. You're not very good with mobile payments anyway."

"Our community also organized a calligraphy and painting exhibition with the theme of the new face of the underworld. Mom took first place last year and was over the moon about it. When you come home with us, you'll see the certificate on the wall. Mom deliberately put it there so you would see it and make sure you praise her as soon as you see it."

The daughter, who had passed away young, was so excited she gesticulated energetically, her eyes full of longing.

They always knew their father would never rest while he was alive. He was working every moment, living only for his data. Even going to the hospital didn't stop him from working on documents in his spare time.

Death wasn't something to fear. In the future, when the family reunites in the underworld, Dad can finally enjoy retirement.

He had devoted his life to his ideals; now it was time to rest.

With his children coming to guide him, Zhao Qingyun wasn't afraid of the journey to the underworld. But after working in the desert for so many years, could he really adapt to a leisurely life of retirement?

He couldn't stay still. He only rested for a few days during the Lunar New Year, but it wasn't long before he was back at work. While other households were brightly lit during the festival, his home remained quiet.

But his students would come to give him New Year's greetings, filling the silence.

Zhao Qingyun slowly nodded, asking his children to be quiet for a moment. He had noticed the black-robed yin emissary had left for some reason and presumed he had a few more minutes left.

Perhaps it was the future life painted by his children that gave Zhao Qingyun some strength. He gasped, trying to explain some final things. "There's still a file on the D drive."

The students, tears in their eyes, looked surprised. Did Professor Zhao just speak?

The joy was quickly suppressed by the thought of "final rally" floating in their minds.

The students quickly nodded, indicating they remembered.

Zhao Qingyun tried to speed up his speech, attempting to finish explaining everything before his body gave out.

A cold yin wind drifted in from the balcony. The black-robed yin emissary tied Zhao Qingyun to the iron railing on the balcony and strode inside.

Zhao Qingyun had already lost his yang energy and was barely hanging on by a thread. Naturally, he saw that yin emissary.

But unlike before, the emissary looked grim, as if he had suffered a severe injury. He kept staring at Zhao Qingyun and suddenly, with difficulty, said, 'Professor Zhao, I beg you to promise me one thing.'

Zhao Qingyun, feeling dizzy, didn't quite understand what the yin emissary meant.

'Next time you die, can you specifically ask for me to guide you? I really want to see you off! Really!'

Zhao Qingyun: "……"

The yin emissary looked very young. Zhao Qingyun wondered if the underworld also had a cutoff at thirty-five. He found the young emissary somewhat amusing.

But soon, he realized the implication in those words.

The children looked at the yin emissary in shock and asked, 'Yin Emissary, what do you mean? Our father's life span was supposed to end tonight, and he was going to the underworld?'

That's why they had come to fetch Dad.

As the saying goes, if the King of Hell wants you dead at midnight, you won't live till dawn. How could it suddenly be that he couldn't go to the underworld?

The Beijing big shot yin emissary was also distressed. 'Someone lit a sky lantern for your father, asking heaven for more life, and it was approved by the heavens.'

As soon as the yin emissary finished speaking, a tall, slender figure walked in from outside. Wu Heng was holding a flickering white candle, taken from the leading drone, which burned eternally.

Chen Zhao followed behind and quickly dodged to the side when he met the eyes of the Beijing big shot yin emissary.

Wu Heng half-squatted by the sickbed and, looking at the emaciated old man before him, asked solemnly, "Mr. Zhao Qingyun, would you prefer to remain in the living world, or leave to rest?"

This was a necessary question, as lighting the sky lantern earlier was merely to inquire whether the heavens would grant mercy.

The surrounding students, hearing this, immediately covered their mouths in astonishment.

The daughter said, "Dad, come with us. You've worked too hard. Come and spend a few years in retirement with us. We've waited too long for you."

This wasn't a curse, wishing for her father's peace, but as family, they understood Zhao Qingyun all too well. Life meant endless work with no days of rest.

His destiny shouldn’t have been this way.

Zhao Qingyun understood. He looked at his children with affection, and after a brief struggle, his cloudy eyes gradually became clear and resolute. He said, "Wait for me a little longer."

Even if he lived with a sick body, and even if his limbs couldn’t function, as long as his mind was clear, he could continue the mission entrusted to him by the country.

That beautiful, anticipated future could wait a little longer. He would hurry, faster, to catch up to those days.

"Dad!" The children’s voices were filled with painful sorrow.

Wu Heng sighed softly. Both Zhao Qingyun and Zhao Qingyun wished to live, but for different reasons.

Some lived by standing on the backs of the impoverished, while others sought to uplift the future of the poor and suffering.

Wu Heng placed the white candle by the bedside and took out a pack of silver needles from his backpack. The inch-long needles were sterilized in the candle flame as he began his acupuncture.

Chen Zhao came over to help, seeing the skillful hand and falling silent. This was an ancient shamanic technique to draw yang energy into the body, with the energy sourced from heaven and earth.

For those with great merit, the heavens indeed showed additional mercy, granting extra years of life, independent of Wu Heng’s needling.

The principals, teachers, and students around him tightly closed their mouths, afraid to make a sound that might disturb, but their hands trembled with surprise and joy.

Under the camera lens, they could clearly see the change in Professor Zhao Qingyun’s deathly pale, bloodless face.

His body remained thin, but his spirit and vitality had changed.

It was as if… he had regained the yang energy of a living person.

Before the white candle burned out, Wu Heng put away his needles and, addressing Zhao Qingyun on the sickbed whose breathing had become even, prescribed, "Professor Zhao, later I'll prescribe a qi and blood tonic for you. Keep your spirits up, don't smoke, try not to stay up late, and take these few months to recuperate well."

Zhao Qingyun nodded, tears welling up in his eyes as he looked at his children, his mind filled with the beautiful blueprint of a retirement life they had painted for him. He forced himself to turn away and, looking at the teachers and students who were wild with joy, tentatively asked, "Can I go to the lab?"