Chapter 13: Show Me Your Favor

“What...” Zhang Qiankun’s smile twisted into something more painful than tears.

The good news was that his grandson could be saved.

The bad news was, he no longer had a master.

“Dad, I...” Zhang Qiusheng barely began to speak before Zhang Qiankun cut him off sharply.

“Wait until Zhang Chen recovers, then I’ll deal with you!”

“From now on, cooperate with Master Chen. Whatever he wants, you give him.”

Hearing Zhang Qiankun’s address, Chen Fan chuckled softly and shook his head slightly.

Without hesitation, Song Shuqiao opened her handbag and took out a bank card.

“Mr. Chen, the password is six eights, and there is one million of my savings on it!”

“Please, save Zhang Chen!”

Chen Fan didn’t even glance at the card. As a man of contract, Zhang Qiankun’s payment was the price that earned Chen Fan’s agreement to intervene.

Breaking the contract or asking for more would be an insult to the spirit of their agreement.

“Go find rendered lard, at least five jin of solidified lard.”

Chen Fan held up three fingers and said calmly, “Also bring paper money with Zhang Chen’s birth details written on it, and a full set of burial clothes.”

“Mr. Chen, what do you need these for?” Song Shuqiao hesitated.

“Just do as I say!” Zhang Qiankun slammed the table.

“All right, I’m going now!”

Seeing Song Shuqiao rush out, Chen Fan calmly sat down.

Zhang Qiusheng smiled ingratiatingly. “Mr. Chen, would you like some tea? We recently got Longjing—”

“Hm...” Chen Fan shook his head slightly. “Cola, with ice, served in a glass.”

If it were someone else, Zhang Qiusheng might have called it pretentious, but coming from Chen Fan, a man of stature, this was simply his way of observing proper ritual.

Besides, Chen Fan wasn’t drinking some rare vintage wine—just cola.

“All right, I’ll take care of it!” Zhang Qiusheng bowed and hurried out of the ward, glancing at the dejected Jiang family.

“You all go get me a bottle of cold cola, a wine glass, and ice cubes.”

Jiang Yueshan looked confused, then turned to Su Juan. “Didn’t you hear me? Hurry up!”

From inside the ward, Chen Fan chuckled lightly at the layers of delegation.

“Master Chen, what are these things for?” Zhang Qiankun’s curiosity got the better of him.

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

Seeing Chen Fan unwilling to reply, Zhang Qiankun nervously rubbed his hands together.

The path of feng shui and physiognomy was endless—success was measured by who could go further.

Zhang Qiankun was president of the Feng Shui Association not only because of his strength but because of his eagerness to learn.

If someone’s feng shui or physiognomy surpassed his even slightly, he called them a fellow practitioner.

If they surpassed him greatly, he called them a brother.

If they were far beyond reach, he would swallow his pride and kneel to them as master without hesitation.

Being denied new knowledge was worse than death for him.

Soon, Zhang Qiusheng returned with the requested items.

He handed Chen Fan a glass of iced cola.

“Mr. Chen, here are the things you asked for!”

Song Shuqiao stumbled in carrying the items and was momentarily stunned to see Chen Fan drinking iced cola from a wine glass.

Though Chen Fan looked only a few years older than Zhang Chen, the contrast of drinking cola from a goblet was striking.

“All right, that’s enough.” Chen Fan said coolly.

He slowly sipped the cola, then stood and glanced at the ceramic jar of lard.

Pure white and clean-looking, it seemed fine.

“The quality is good.”

Chen Fan nodded slightly. “You two go and rub the lard all over Zhang Chen’s body. Make sure not a spot is missed.”

“Yes, yes!”

Song Shuqiao and Zhang Qiusheng nodded repeatedly and began carefully rubbing the lard onto Zhang Chen as they pulled off his clothes.

“Be gentle. The lard will still be needed.”

Chen Fan watched as Zhang Qiusheng carelessly smeared a large lump of white lard directly on Zhang Chen’s face and couldn’t help but advise him.

“Oh, oh!” Zhang Qiusheng laughed awkwardly and then began more cautiously.

Chen Fan ignored their actions, laid the burial clothes on the floor, and muttered incantations.

“Between life and death, soul disperses and body perishes.”

“Everyone... partake together, shall we?”

Zhang Qiankun stared at Chen Fan’s movements and suddenly stood upright.

He wanted to say something but swallowed it stubbornly.

“Quick, after rubbing it on, scrape off the lard and spread it on the burial clothes,” Chen Fan instructed.

Zhang Qiusheng and Song Shuqiao nodded anxiously and began scraping the lard with their hands.

Now coated in lard, Zhang Chen looked slick and shiny, like a young man glazed with lard.

They spread the scraped lard onto the burial clothes.

When the lard was nearly all scraped off, Chen Fan picked up the ceramic jar, looked at the remaining lard, and flung it onto the burial clothes in one handful.

“After you all partake, enter reincarnation.”

The moment he finished speaking, Zhang Qiankun’s body tensed.

Zhang Qiusheng and Song Shuqiao felt a chill rise.

Chen Fan lifted his eyes and looked toward the door.

An ancient, pale apparition passed through the doorway first.

Behind it followed a group of infants and old women.

There were also several missing limbs, clearly victims of violent deaths.

They bowed stiffly to Chen Fan, then crouched to devour the lard, consuming the burial clothes as well.

“This...”

Song Shuqiao quickly covered her mouth to stifle a scream.

Though she was not a feng shui master nor gifted with the yin-yang eye to see spirits, she noticed the burial clothes being eaten by invisible beings, and the lard disappearing mysteriously.

“Death is the extinguishing of the lamp. You all feast well for me, and that is your favor.”

“Enter the underworld, proceed to reincarnation,” Chen Fan said coldly.

Fortunately, they were in a hospital, allowing Chen Fan to summon restless spirits unable to reincarnate and burdened with Zhang Chen’s feng shui backlash, giving them a chance to reincarnate.

Those who missed the crucial seventh day after death, tainted with life energy, benefited from this—unless they were great evildoers, they would not suffer torment.

“Ahhh!”

At that moment, Zhang Chen on the hospital bed suddenly began to scream in pain.