Chapter 46.2: The Empty Bench

Li Zhuiyuan glanced at the well on the plaza, hidden under a giant bamboo hat. Mirage in the Water, Flower in the Mirror.

He couldn’t help but imagine how he would’ve set things up—at the very least, it wouldn’t have been this crude. He would’ve thrown up a miasma, for starters, to lure passersby right into the trap.

Like dropping dumplings into a pot, one by one into the well.

Li Zhuiyuan exhaled, tapped his own forehead, and muttered, “Wei Zhengdao, you really are a piece of work.”

“Let’s go, Runsheng-ge, we need to find Zhou Yong.”

Runsheng scratched his head. “But I don’t know which den Zhou Yong’s playing cards at.”

“Just head to the biggest one. Even if he’s not there, it’s easy to ask around. Yeah, the one where we won big last time.”

The three walked along the village road, reaching the gambling den not long after.

The short, chubby Zhou Fabao was standing by the edge of the plaza with his back to the road, whistling as he relieved himself, fertilizing his vegetable patch.

He turned and saw three people approaching. Instinctively, he picked up the pace to act as host.

Then he recognized Runsheng—and that kid from last time.

Zhou Fabao stiffened in fear and quickly zipped up.

“Uh, what brings you here?”

By the time the group was on the plaza, Zhou Fabao didn’t move to greet them. He just stood there, half-blocking the path.

The last time these two played cards at his place, they’d smashed his table to bits, shattered the cups and ashtrays. Sure, they’d paid for the damage, but he ran a shady business. Any trouble blowing up was bad news. No way was he letting those two gamble here again.

Runsheng said, “We’re not here to play. We’re looking for someone. Is Zhou Yong here?”

“Yonghou, huh.” Zhou Fabao forced a smile. “He didn’t come today. Probably watching games at someone else’s den.”

“Oh.” Runsheng turned to Li Zhuiyuan. “Xiaoyuan, Zhou Yong’s not here.”

“The boss is lying.”

Zhou Fabao: “…”

Back when they’d played three-card brag here, Li Zhuiyuan had memorized everyone’s facial cues. Since the boss brought tea, collected betting tips—he counted as a player, too. So Zhou Fabao’s face had been “recorded.”

Even though there were no cards now, Li Zhuiyuan could still see the boss was bluffing. His micro-expressions didn’t match the “hand” he was showing.

Runsheng turned back to Zhou Fabao, his tone sharper. “Is Zhou Yong here or not?”

Zhou Fabao waved his hands frantically, looking deeply aggrieved. “He’s really not. Why would I lie? What’s in it for me?”

Li Zhuiyuan was about to suggest Runsheng recall some movie threats, but Tan Wenbin moved faster.

He pulled out a synthetic leather wallet, flipped it open, and extracted a family photo—every man but him in police uniform.

He held the picture up to Zhou Fabao. “Tell us, is Zhou Yong here or not!”

Zhou Fabao swallowed hard. “He’s here.”

“We’ve got business with him.”

With that, Tan Wenbin walked straight in, shoulder-checking Zhou Fabao, who quickly stepped aside.

Runsheng sighed inwardly: Sure enough, Xiaoyuan was right. There’s no future in the underworld.

Inside, the gambling den buzzed with action across seven or eight tables.

Tan Wenbin strode in, one hand on his hip, gaze sharp—like his cop father had possessed him.

He swept the room with his eyes. Once. Twice. A third time…

Then froze.

Because he didn’t know what Zhou Yong looked like.

When Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng entered, half the room stopped playing and looked over. The others, curious, whispered to neighbors. Once identities were confirmed, all eyes were on them.

Everyone had heard about the cursed card game. People were ready to abandon any table the kid sat at.

Li Zhuiyuan asked Zhou Fabao, “Where’s Zhou Yong?”

“Yonghou… He was just here. Maybe went out back for food? He’s kin of mine. When he drops by to watch, he helps with chores. I give him a meal.”

Zhou Fabao led them to the back, where a few elders sipped tea and chatted.

He asked, “Auntie, where’s Yonghou?”

“Oh, he was just here. Not sure where he went now.”

Zhou Fabao turned back, exasperated. “I’m really not lying. I don’t know where he went. What do you want with him—he owe you money?”

“No, we just need to ask him about someone. Sorry for the trouble, boss. We’ll be on our way.”

Li Zhuiyuan stepped out onto the road.

Runsheng rubbed his nose. “Xiaoyuan, weird thing—I didn’t smell a Dead Sinker just now.”

“That’s not weird. Some Dead Sinkers have special powers—like separating spirit from body. Remember the cat-faced granny?”

“Cat-faced granny?” Tan Wenbin’s eyes lit up. “Did I miss something exciting?”

Runsheng’s face darkened. “If that’s the case, Xiaoyuan, Zhou Yong’s going to be a handful.”

Tan Wenbin clapped excitedly. “Yeah! This one’s tricky.”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “No need for a showdown. He hasn’t hurt anyone. If he just likes swimming in the river and spending time with his dead wife and kid, there’s no reason to make an enemy of him.

We just have to warn him not to surface where villagers can see—and ask who taught him those techniques.

In essence, we can coexist peacefully.”

“Huh? Peacefully?” Tan Wenbin was confused. “Shouldn’t it be evil must be suppressed, humans and ghosts can’t coexist? Don’t we have to kill him?”

“Binbin-ge, that’s exhausting.”

“Uh…”

Just like with Little Oriole—once she’d avenged herself, she stopped harming others. My great-grandpa just ignored her after that. Never even considered doing more.

“So… where do we find Zhou Yong? His house, or the river?”

Li Zhuiyuan smiled, looking out at the rice fields.

“Maybe he’s standing right there now, watching us.”

Even if Zhou Yong was hiding on purpose, Li Zhuiyuan wasn’t worried. He had plenty of ways to draw him out.

But first, there was the matter of nightfall.

Li Zhuiyuan felt his pocket, pulled out some cash, and handed it to Runsheng. “Runsheng-ge, go buy some strong baijiu and ready-made dishes. It’s time for dinner.”

Back at Grandpa Shan’s place, the two elders were shoulder to shoulder in the yard, smoking and chatting.

“Sanjianghou, the worst thing I ever did in life was meet you.”

“Shanpao, don’t pin your gambling debts on me.”

“Heh, I didn’t pin them on you.”

“Right, you poured them down your own throat.”

“Capital household registration, I heard that for college…”

“Shanpao, bring that up again and I’ll pickle you in your neighbor’s porcelain vat.”

“Peh! You shameless old fart.”

When Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin returned, the elders asked about their progress.

“Great-grandpa, we found the general area, even netted it. But it’s too late in the day—Runsheng-ge thinks we should wait till morning.”

“See that? Found it. Runsheng’s grown more under my wing than under yours.”

Then Li Sanjiang nodded at Xiaoyuan. “That’s right. Don’t do things at night—it’s easy to mess up. Even ordinary Dead Sinkers can stir after dark.”

Runsheng came back with liquor and food. The old men naturally had to drink.

With Tan Wenbin livening up the table, they were in high spirits.

First five drinks in, Li Sanjiang still talked about taking Xiaoyuan home. After the next five, he and Grandpa Shan were both passed out drunk on the table.

Runsheng carried both old men to bed, tucked blankets over their bellies, and placed chamber pots nearby just in case.

Once done, the three packed up and returned to the river.

The nighttime mood was entirely different from the day. Li Zhuiyuan knew his great-grandpa was right—but it didn’t matter now.

Because Zhou Yong could not only stir—he could already sneak ashore and watch a card game.

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