Chapter 54: Playing Tricks and Feigning Spirits

“Cao, don’t just stand there. I’m leaving Liu Molan’s safety in Jianghai City to you, and find out who’s trying to frame her.” With that, Qin Yang tossed out his words and strode away with an air of arrogance.

The others looked at each other in disbelief. Was this still the Qin Yang they once knew? What was with that murderous aura just now? And why did the old master, always so resolute, concede to Qin Yang’s unreasonable demands? Even Boss Cao, who was being ordered around, didn’t utter a word? Only Qin Lie had ever managed that before. What on earth was going on lately?

After leaving the club, Qin Yang wandered the streets. Liu Molan still hadn’t called, probably still at dinner, which annoyed him further. Glancing around, he made his way toward a cemetery, relying on memory rather than taking a cab, strolling leisurely until it was past eleven at night by the time he arrived. Sitting cross-legged in the center, he absorbed the energy of one hundred and fifty departed souls, feeling much lighter afterward.

“There are now fifteen hundred souls in hell, but it’s still too slow. At this rate, I’ll never reach the power of the second circle of hell before I die.” Qin Yang clenched his fists. “I have to pick up the pace. Butler, compile a list of all available souls for me. As always, as long as I don’t waste soul points, it’s fine.”

After the Tao Caijie incident, he still had one hundred and five soul points. The two hundred twenty points accumulated in the jade pendant remained as reserves. Qin Yang wanted to maximize his absorption. As the butler had said, the longer the pendant stored souls, the greater the accumulation. In nine days, he could only absorb one hundred eighty points at a steady rate, but in storage, it had already reached two hundred twenty.

“There’s someone who seems connected to you,” the butler said abruptly as he was compiling the list. “It seems to be related to your fatal car race.”

“What?” Qin Yang frowned.

“His name is Liu Xi. Should I read his memories?”

“Him?” Qin Yang’s eyes narrowed.

He remembered Liu Xi vaguely. Qin Yang owned many sports cars, but factory models never satisfied him, so modifications were a necessity. Liu Xi was a young mechanic at a garage Qin Yang frequented. They’d chatted a few times, but there wasn’t much of a relationship.

“Read them,” Qin Yang ordered. Seeing it would only cost fifteen soul points, he didn’t mind.

In an instant, torrents of memories rushed into his mind like a film on fast-forward, from Liu Xi’s earliest recollections to his death, playing scene by scene. From these images, Qin Yang confirmed his own presence in Liu Xi’s life, matching up with his own recollections. He watched, intrigued, until another familiar face appeared in the scenes, prompting him to pay close attention.

It was a young man, twenty-three or twenty-four, with striking features and a scholarly air, but his eyes burned with a deep-seated madness and greed.

“Yang Feng, that guy.” Qin Yang thought hard, digging through the scion’s memories for an impression. Yang Feng was the heir to a tech company in Jianghai City, with considerable family wealth. The only time he’d ever clashed with Qin Yang was over the same girl. Predictably, as the most notorious of the city’s ten scoundrels, Qin Yang had humiliated Yang Feng in front of her.

“Liu Xi, just make a little adjustment to the brake pads—this million is yours,” Yang Feng tempted him.

Liu Xi stared at the cash, swallowing hard but still hesitating. “But that’s Qin Yang’s car. I’m… I’m scared.”

“What are you scared of?” Yang Feng gritted his teeth. “Once he’s gone, if neither of us talks, who would ever know it was you? No one can trace it after the crash. Do it, and the money is yours. I’ll even pay you more if you want. Well?”

The following scenes were of Liu Xi’s inner turmoil, but the temptation before him eventually broke his resolve. On a quiet night, the specially ordered brake pads for Qin Yang’s sports car were removed, directly leading to the tragic accident during the race. The next day, having done the deed, Liu Xi himself died in a car crash and was hastily buried in the same cemetery.

“So, are you planning to seek revenge?” the butler asked.

Qin Yang sneered. “What do you think? After being set up like that, I’d be a disgrace not to.”

“Then you’ll need evidence,” the butler said.

Qin Yang rolled his eyes. “To deal with him, do I need evidence? Don’t make me laugh. Let’s go.”

Just as Qin Yang was about to leave, two cars suddenly sped over and stopped nearby. Curious, he hid behind a tombstone—thankfully, he had the nerve for it; otherwise, hiding in a cemetery at night was unsettling enough.

“What’s going on here? Some kind of underground deal?”

Four or five men got out, their faces fierce in the moonlight. One, whose eyebrows nearly joined in the middle, grinned. “Didn’t they say that woman Liu Molan has a tough bodyguard? Pure rumor. Otherwise, how could we have snatched her so easily? Ha! Ten million, in the bag.”

“Shut up,” another snapped in a low voice. “We’re hiding from the police here. Just behave and get Liu Molan out. We’re leaving.”

“Leaving the cars?” one asked reluctantly.

“Idiot! With ten million, who cares about a couple of cars?”

Just then, two others lifted an unconscious woman from the car. It was Liu Molan, clearly knocked out and slung over a shoulder. The man with the joined eyebrows, eyeing her impressive figure, said, “They said to deliver Liu Molan alive, but didn’t say we couldn’t touch her. Such a delicate beauty—shouldn’t we…?”

“If you like doing things in a place like this, I won’t mind waiting a few minutes,” the man who seemed to be the leader sneered. “But I’d rather have my fun back home.”

“Nah, let’s get out of here. A cemetery at night is no place to linger.”

But as the four walked a few steps, the man carrying Liu Molan suddenly yelped. The others crowded around, alarmed, but saw nothing strange. “What’s wrong?” one asked.

“Someone just hit me,” the man said nervously.

“Hey! Who hit me?”

“Ow! Who was that?”

Again and again, unseen blows struck them. Frightened, they formed a tight group, each eyeing the darkness warily. One, trembling, asked, “Bro, is this place haunted?”

“Haunted, my ass,” the leader cursed. “Even if there were ghosts, I wouldn’t be afraid!”

But as soon as he finished, a brick came sailing out of the darkness, striking him squarely on the forehead before he could dodge. He cried out, “Who’s there? Show yourself! Stop playing these tricks!”

The only answer was more bricks—four or five in quick succession—sending the men scattering in panic. When they finally stopped, the silence around them was terrifying. Swallowing hard, they all seemed to share the same thought: run. But the first to move tripped and fell, howling in pain.

“Who said her bodyguard wasn’t here?”

Qin Yang stepped out, pinning the man to the ground with his foot, and looked at the rest with a wicked grin. “Let’s make a deal. Release her, and tell me how to contact the person offering the ten million bounty. Do that, and I’ll let you go. Otherwise, I’ll see to it that you all take up permanent residence here.”