BPIFC -Volume 1 – Chapter 49 Haggling

According to the secretary, strange incidents had never stopped after the Song Dynasty tomb was discovered beneath the resort.

The first victim was the archaeologist they had invited. On the very day he confirmed that the tomb belonged to an exiled Song official, the nearly seventy-year-old expert died of a heart attack that very night.

At first, no one thought much of it. The old man had drunk a little too much during dinner, and at his age, such a death wasn’t particularly unusual. The resort owner spent a reasonable amount of money to arrange his funeral.

Unexpectedly, on the very night the funeral was completed, another bizarre incident occurred at the construction site.

A night watchman disappeared.

People searched all night but found nothing. The next morning, they discovered a set of footprints leading toward a wild pond outside the resort. The tracks went into the pond—but none came out.

Feeling something was wrong, the owner had pumps brought in to drain the pond. At the bottom, they found the missing worker drowned.

Even more disturbing, there was a smile on the dead man’s face.

Anyone who saw that smile felt uncomfortable.

With such a strange death, the owner had no choice but to notify the police.

At first glance, it appeared that weeds had become entangled around the man’s ankles, trapping him underwater.

However, police investigators discovered that the aquatic plants around his ankles had been tied into dead knots. Such knots could not have formed naturally.

The strangest part came after the autopsy.

The medical examiner found that the man’s internal organs had undergone severe decomposition and liquefaction, far beyond what should be possible for someone who had only been dead for one day.

Yet strangely, everything else—skin, bones, blood vessels, muscles—had decayed at a perfectly normal rate.

Multiple toxicology tests were performed, but no poison or disease could explain the accelerated decomposition of the internal organs.

Police reviewed every surveillance recording at the resort.

Nothing unusual was found.

The worker had been joking with his colleagues during dinner.

A few hours later, he was dead in the pond.

Before the police could solve the mystery, another accident occurred.

This time, it was the foreman.

That day, heavy rain suddenly began. The workers retreated to the temporary sheds to avoid the storm.

Summer thunderstorms were common in the south, and nobody paid much attention. Everyone simply planned to smoke and rest until the rain stopped.

Suddenly, the foreman walked out into the rain.

He seemed to have lost his senses, wandering around in circles while muttering to himself.

Several workers who were close to him tried to bring him back.

At that very moment, a bolt of lightning descended.

Before everyone’s eyes, the foreman was struck and instantly reduced to charred remains.

Within just a few days, three people had died.

The entire resort erupted into panic.

Naturally, everyone connected the incidents to the Song Dynasty tomb.

Rumors spread that an evil spirit from the ancient grave was claiming lives.

Terrified workers began quitting one after another.

The owner was under pressure to meet deadlines. He offered triple wages, yet no one was willing to continue working.

Eventually, someone advised him to hire a Taoist master to perform rituals.

In order to reassure everyone, the owner spent a huge sum hiring a famous master from Southeast Asia.

On the day of the ceremony, he gathered every worker and employee at the site.

As long as the master publicly declared that the evil had been eliminated and the area had become a blessed land of good feng shui, morale would be restored.

Everything went smoothly at first.

Before the crowd, the master burned yellow talismans, then decapitated a rooster and sprinkled its blood into the tomb.

Afterward, he began chanting incantations.

Just as the ritual was ending, something horrifying happened.

The wide sleeve of his robe suddenly brushed against the candles.

Instantly, flames erupted across his body.

Everyone was stunned.

By the time they reacted and rushed forward to help, the master had already become a human fireball.

Nobody understood how this was possible.

The weather in the south was humid and rainy, and the robe wasn’t even dry.

How could it have caught fire so violently?

When the flames were finally extinguished, the master was already burned beyond recognition.

Before dying, he used his finger to draw a strange face resembling a ghost upon the ground.

That image only made the rumors of evil spirits spread even faster.

At this point, the resort owner was at his wit’s end.

He tried to sell the place, but the haunted reputation had already spread, and the project itself was enormous. No one dared take over such a cursed property.

Left with no alternatives, he publicly announced:

Anyone who could solve the problem would be allowed to purchase ten percent of the resort’s shares at a bargain price.

This immediately attracted Ma Xiaolin’s interest.

Relying on his friendship with Yang Shuji of the Bureau, Boss Ma originally intended to make the Bureau solve the problem for free.

Afterward, he would donate money to restore several dilapidated temples, thereby helping Yang Shuji complete his own tasks.

However, after learning that Che Qianzi had joined the Bureau, Ma changed his mind.

He wanted to use this opportunity to repair his relationship with the young Taoist and ensure that Che Qianzi would no longer hold a grudge over the cutoff of funding to the Extreme Truth Temple.

Unfortunately, Yang Shuji had kept Ma occupied, so he could only send his secretary to explain everything.

By the time the secretary finished speaking, Sun Desheng had already finished reading the documents.

He glanced at Che Qianzi, who was still absorbed in calculating expenses, and smiled.

“So, I understand the situation. Tell me—what exactly does Chairman Ma have in mind? Are we doing this officially, or are we discussing a private arrangement?”

The secretary smiled.

“If this were official business, I wouldn’t need to come speak with you.”

“Chairman Ma’s offer is this: if Director Sun can solve the matter, he is willing to give you the dividend rights to five percent of the resort.”

“The project combines tourism and an amusement park, covering eleven hundred acres. It is jointly invested with the local government.”

“The total investment amounts to eleven billion yuan.”

“Five percent represents five hundred and fifty million yuan.”

Che Qianzi, who had been figuring out how to spend his 1.5 million yuan, suddenly raised his head.

“Who just said ‘hundred million’?”

“Fatty?”

Sun ignored him and shook his head with a smile.

“Over five hundred million—sounds impressive.”

“But how much does your Chairman Ma own?”

“If we risk our lives while he takes the lion’s share, then we’d really be the suckers.”

The secretary smiled apologetically.

“Director Sun, I believe you’ve misunderstood.”

“This five percent only represents dividend rights. The shares themselves cannot be cashed out. You merely receive annual profits.”

“But the annual dividends should still amount to several million yuan at minimum.”

“As for Chairman Ma, he purchased his own shares with real money.”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose the price. There are confidentiality agreements involved.”

“However, I can guarantee with my personal integrity—”

Sun Desheng waved his hand and interrupted her.

“If you can’t reveal the details, then forget it.”

He smiled.

“Brother here has been pretty busy lately.”

“It’s inconvenient for me to travel far.”

“Please tell Chairman Ma that I won’t be taking this job.”

“And not just me.”

“Nobody in the Bureau—and nobody connected to the Bureau—will accept this case either.”

“Publicly or privately.”

The secretary was stunned.

In her eyes, five percent of the dividends was already extremely generous.

The income was recurring every year—far more worthwhile than taking a private job worth twenty or thirty million yuan.

Yet this fat man had rejected it without hesitation—and even declared that no one related to the Bureau would touch the case.

Only now did she realize how difficult Sun Desheng truly was.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, she looked at him and asked directly:

“Director Sun, let’s speak frankly.”

“What would it take for you to accept?”

Sun Desheng glanced at Che Qianzi, who was pretending to do calculations while secretly listening.

Then he smiled and raised a single finger.

“Ten percent dividends.”

“Consider it compensation for all the living expenses my little brother should’ve received over the years.”