PD -Chapter 11 A Ghost-Hunting Job

Actually, I should have noticed it earlier. It was just that this girl was unbelievably beautiful. Her facial features were so exquisitely proportioned that I had overlooked the tiny flaw at the Sun and Moon Corners on either side of her forehead.

The art of physiognomy from the Ma Yi tradition has a long history. It divides the human face into twelve life palaces, each corresponding to different aspects of a person’s fortune, success, and misfortune.

All of Zhu Zhu’s facial palaces were bright and well-formed, clearly indicating wealth and prosperity. Only her Parents Palace bore some dark blemishes that looked as though they had appeared recently. Coupled with the fact that she had come to hire me to catch a ghost, I guessed that something had happened to her parents.

As it turned out, I was right.

“See? This lousy Taoist actually knows a thing or two!” Tang Shanshan said proudly after I correctly guessed why Zhu Zhu had come to see me.

“Mr. Qiu, you have to help my father. He’s become so thin lately that he’s almost unrecognizable. I don’t know what will happen if this continues.”

As Zhu Zhu spoke, she rose from the sofa.

A pair of long, snow-white legs came fully into view before my eyes, and I nearly got a nosebleed on the spot.

I coughed awkwardly and motioned for her not to worry.

“Take your time and tell me everything from the beginning.”

Zhu Zhu’s father was Zhu Shengxing, the chairman of Shengxing Group and one of the most famous real-estate investors in the city.

Her mother had passed away early, and she had grown up depending solely on her father.

The last time Zhu Zhu went home was a week ago. Her father had unexpectedly found some free time and called her back for dinner.

During the meal, she noticed that something seemed off about him. His complexion looked poor, and his mental state wasn’t very good either.

Her father simply said that his chronic high blood pressure was acting up again, so she didn’t think much of it and merely reminded him to rest more and avoid overworking himself.

But the very next morning, something strange happened.

It was not yet seven o’clock.

Still asleep, Zhu Zhu was jolted awake by a shrill, terrified scream coming from downstairs.

The scream was filled with such fear that it made her hair stand on end. Anyone hearing it would know that something horrifying had occurred.

She quickly slipped on her slippers and rushed out of her bedroom.

The household staff had gathered outside a room downstairs, whispering among themselves. Whether male or female, every servant wore a look of terror on their face.

The scream had clearly come from that room.

No one actually lived there.

It was Zhu Shengxing’s exhibition room for his private collection.

Zhu Zhu knew that her father had a hobby: collecting all kinds of masks and facial masks.

The hundred-square-meter exhibition hall was filled with masks he had collected over the years.

She couldn’t imagine what could possibly have happened inside that room to frighten the servants so badly.

Perhaps one of them had accidentally damaged one of her father’s expensive collectibles while cleaning?

That seemed the most likely explanation.

Some of the masks were rare editions worth hundreds of thousands, even millions. For ordinary servants, such sums were astronomical.

“What happened?” Zhu Zhu’s father also came running out.

But the servants merely exchanged glances and stared fearfully into the exhibition room. Not a single person answered their employer’s question.

Zhu Zhu exchanged a look with her father from upstairs and then headed down to see for herself.

The moment she reached the doorway of the exhibition room, however, her entire body began trembling uncontrollably, and she let out a scream.

Zhu Shengxing’s brows knitted tightly together, his aged face filled with shock.

Every mask in the collection room—

Whether it was a traditional Peking Opera facial mask or a Western masquerade mask hanging on the walls or displayed on the stands—had two streams of crimson liquid running from its empty eye sockets.

It looked exactly like tears of blood flowing from eyes that didn’t exist.

The bloody tears wound their way down the various mask designs and dripped steadily onto the floor.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

By then, a pool of blood had already formed across the floor, creating a scene that was gruesome beyond words.

Suppressing the terror in her heart, Zhu Zhu turned to look at her father.

To her surprise, his face looked even worse than hers.

She was about to step forward to support him when, before she could reach out, the pale-faced Zhu Shengxing suddenly collapsed to the ground with a loud thud.

Zhu Zhu was horrified.

She immediately crouched down, cradled her father in her arms, and tearfully ordered the servants to call an ambulance.

From that day onward, Zhu Shengxing never recovered.

He spent many days in the hospital. Eventually, they even hired the city’s best private physician to treat him at home, yet his condition showed no improvement.

The bloodstains in the collection room and the bloody tears on the masks were thoroughly cleaned away by a professional cleaning company, leaving no trace behind.

However, not long afterward, one morning, the masks began weeping blood again.

At the same time, Zhu Shengxing’s condition worsened.

He became skin and bones, unable to speak, often dazed and confused. Occasionally, he would mutter incoherent words that Zhu Zhu couldn’t understand.

Then, this very morning, the masks shed tears of blood for the third time.

Zhu Zhu had never believed in ghosts or spirits before.

But after encountering something that defied explanation, combined with the rumors spreading among the many servants in the household—most of whom insisted that the villa was haunted—things had gotten out of hand.

Some servants had even resigned on the spot, leaving without bothering to collect their wages.