Unexpectedly, after Blind Jin finished speaking, Sun Fatty and Gao Liang merely exchanged glances without offering any response. To me, Blind Jin's words sounded like polite banter, but it seemed our director and deputy director couldn't even be bothered to return the courtesy. Xiao Heshang opened his mouth as if to say something, but seeing their attitude, he closed it again. The room fell into an awkward silence.
In the end, it was Sun Fatty who broke the deadlock. He glanced at Ma Xiaolin and said, "Old Ma, I haven't asked yet—what brings you to our little corner of the world?"
Ma Xiaolin's mouth twisted into a grimace, his voice tinged with tears as he choked out, "I'm finished… Not kidding, I'm done for... completely done for…"
With snot running and tears flowing, Ma Xiaolin recounted what had happened to him since we left Hong Kong. Just like Yang Xiao had described, from that very night onward, Ma's appetite exploded into something inhuman—far beyond the bounds of what any normal person could imagine.
That same evening, Ma Xiaolin devoured everything edible in his house. Nothing could stop him. Unable to wait for the housekeeper to return from buying groceries, he tore through every last scrap of food, chewed up ornamental plants, and even swallowed the koi fish from his feng shui pond—bones, scales, and all. And still, he rolled on the floor clutching his stomach, wailing with hunger.
The butler frantically juggled phone calls to order takeout while dispatching all the household staff to scour the city for food. The haul—five people's worth of groceries plus dozens of takeout deliveries—still couldn't meet his appetite.
At first, the butler feared Ma might eat himself to death. But no matter how much he ate, Ma's stomach never bulged. In fact, it looked like it was sinking in. The butler, having witnessed the Curse of Misfortune incident firsthand, suspected something supernatural was at work. He rummaged through Ma Xiaolin's study and found contact information for Blind Jin. Unfortunately, it only listed a physical address on Lantau Island—no phone number.
Thankfully, the butler had experience handling crises. He immediately sent someone to Lantau Island to summon Blind Jin, while he remained at Ma's side, carefully monitoring him to prevent any fatal incident. By dawn, Blind Jin still hadn't arrived. Meanwhile, Ma Xiaolin's condition had reached critical levels—food deliveries couldn't keep up with his speed. Eventually, he stopped chewing altogether and began cramming food straight into his mouth, swallowing it whole. His throat convulsed rhythmically as he gulped down unidentifiable mush.
It wasn't a matter of indigestion anymore—Ma Xiaolin was going to choke himself to death.
Desperate, the butler ordered several hundred pounds of rice noodles and made a slurry to feed him. Ma didn't care about taste or appearance anymore. He grabbed the basin of rice paste and drank greedily. Halfway through, he suddenly cried out, "Ow!" and squatted to the floor.
He didn't even have time to pull his pants down. Something heavy dropped into his trousers, and a moment later, the entire Ma estate reeked of ammonia.
All that food, condensed into one vile output—the smell was unimaginable. Several staff members immediately retched, overwhelmed. Even the loyal butler had to retreat a few steps. Thankfully, the house had a powerful ventilation system, and once the exhaust fans were switched on, the stench finally began to fade.
The butler personally cleaned up the mess. But when he pulled down Ma Xiaolin's pants, everyone present was left dumbfounded. His trousers were soaked in crimson—this wasn't a bit of blood in the urine; this was a full-on hemorrhage. Just as the butler was about to call a cab for the hospital, Blind Jin finally arrived.
He stopped the butler at the door, pinched his nose, and asked for a detailed report. Then he had someone lead him on a tour of the house, inside and out. Eventually, he stopped in the center of the courtyard. There, he dismissed everyone else and began pacing in circles alone, mumbling to himself.
After a few rounds, Ma Xiaolin suddenly dropped the basin of rice paste and vomited violently. From the look of it, you'd think he was about to cough up everything he'd eaten since the previous night.
He collapsed soon after, completely spent. The butler tried again to arrange hospital care, but Blind Jin stopped him. Instead, he ordered Ma to be carried back to his room and instructed that a private nurse be hired to provide round-the-clock care. Under no circumstances was Ma Xiaolin to be given food—only intravenous glucose and saline, just enough to keep him alive.
From that day forward, Blind Jin moved into the Ma residence. He stayed through the entire Spring Festival, never leaving once. Yet he didn't draw talismans, perform exorcisms, or set up any spiritual arrays. All he did, day after day, was pace the courtyard in circles, muttering to himself. Sometimes he'd scowl in deep concentration; other times he smiled while speaking to the air. The butler knew better than to interrupt—aside from meals, he left Blind Jin alone.
Though Ma Xiaolin survived on nothing but IV fluids, something strange happened. On the fifth day of the new year, he managed to get out of bed and totter toward Blind Jin, who was still wandering the courtyard.
Seeing Blind Jin, Ma Xiaolin clung to him like a drowning man to driftwood. He dropped to his knees, sobbing, "Master, please save me! Master, save me!"—just as he had half a year ago when he encountered the Spirit of Misfortune and ran into Xiao Heshang.
Unlike Xiao Heshang, Blind Jin merely gave a bitter smile, shook his head, and turned his face toward Ma Xiaolin, as if "seeing" him. He said, "No need for all that. I may be blind, but I'm spared from witnessing such formalities. Get up—say what you have to say while standing."
Once Ma Xiaolin had stood, Blind Jin motioned for him to sit beside him. The businessman let out a long breath and poured out another wave of grievances. Just days ago, Blind Jin had read his yearly fate and declared that he was on the verge of reversing his fortunes. Misfortune was at its peak, and the tide of prosperity was due to return—but judging by recent events, the "good" still hadn't arrived, and the "bad" seemed in no hurry to leave.
After Ma finished his sob story, Blind Jin sighed and said, "Mr. Ma, to be honest with you, your fate still reads as a turnaround year—great potential lies ahead. But your current situation has nothing to do with fate or fortune. What's happening is that an evil spirit has clouded your mind. And it did so in a rather clever way—it bypassed your astrological readings entirely, affecting you outside your destined path."
Upon hearing this, Ma Xiaolin dropped to his knees again. If this master could see through the spirit's trickery, then surely he could exorcise it—or at least drive it away. But to his dismay, Blind Jin kept shaking his head. "You're oversimplifying things," he said. "Exorcising the ghost itself isn't impossible. If it were just the ghost, I'd have done it long ago. There'd be no need to wait until now."
He sighed again, his expression turning more helpless. "But the person who released this spirit… that's someone I can't afford to offend. His methods in summoning and commanding spirits are far beyond mine. He's only playing with you for now—if he were serious, you'd already be long dead, many times over. I can at best temporarily ease the spirit's influence. In the long run, I can't protect you."
Before he even finished, Ma Xiaolin's body swayed again as if about to faint. Blind Jin, as though he could see perfectly, reached out and caught him. "I can't solve this myself," he said. "But I can take you to someone who can."
Ma Xiaolin's hope reignited. His pallor lightened, and he kept thanking Blind Jin. Unexpectedly, the old master gave a strange smile and said, "The world is unpredictable. Perhaps through your misfortune, I may solve a problem of my own."
Under Blind Jin's "care," Ma Xiaolin rested for a few days more, surviving solely on medication and glucose drips. He was already thin to begin with, but by now, he was practically skin stretched over bones. On a side note, although he'd originally arrived in a wheelchair, the Bureau was no place for outsiders, and it would've been unseemly to have a blind man pushing him. Naturally, Blind Jin had his methods. After they got off the plane, he gave Ma a small vial of tart-sweet liquid. Miraculously, within twenty minutes, Ma Xiaolin was able to stand and even shuffle around the airport lobby with Blind Jin's help.
After Ma finished his tale, both Gao Liang and Xiao Heshang glanced—intentionally or not—at Sun Fatty. But our newly minted Deputy Director sat there like nothing had happened, nodding along solemnly as Ma spoke. When Ma got to the part about bloody incontinence, Sun even sighed with sympathy, as if he were about to take Ma's hand and say, "Not gonna lie, comrade, you've really suffered."
Ma Xiaolin, a seasoned businessman, had his suspicions from the start. He'd long suspected that something was "left behind" in his house after we departed. He even discussed this possibility with Blind Jin, who, surprisingly, had defended Sun Fatty—saying that perhaps the hungry ghost had slipped in through the cracks while Xiao Heshang was repeatedly shifting the feng shui formations during our visit.
Ma had been half-convinced at the time, but now, sitting face-to-face with Sun Fatty, Xiao Heshang, and me, he couldn't help but blurt out: "Mr. Sun… Vice Director Sun, please don't take offense to what I'm about to say. I just wanted to ask—after your last visit, did you perhaps… forget something in my home?"
Before Ma could even finish, Sun Fatty's face darkened. He let out a cold snort and slowly stood up. Rolling his eyes, he pointed right at Ma Xiaolin's nose. "Ma," he said, "not gonna lie—you're blaming the cook because you can't have kids? Your house is haunted and now it's my fault? You dump every pile of crap on my head? Wonderful. I helped you chase off a calamity god last time, and now you slander me like this?
"Let me make one thing clear—if I really wanted to mess with you, I wouldn't need to leave anything behind. I could've dropped a charm in your house, and boom—either you're dead, or 'accidentally' dead, or worse than dead. You think dry-heaving air and shitting blood's the worst it gets? If I had a way to eat like a pig and lose weight doing it, you think you would've been first? Hell no—I'd be the one trying it first!"
The tirade flew like machine-gun fire, forcing Ma Xiaolin to shrink back, step by step. His expression twisted like a bitter melon. When Sun finally paused for breath, Ma gave a sheepish smile and said, "Misunderstanding, misunderstanding. Director Sun, I just meant… after you left, I found a check in my living room for… uh, five hundred thousand Hong Kong dollars. I just wanted to ask—does that perhaps belong to you?"
"A check, you say?" Sun Fatty's expression flipped instantly. He cast a glance at Gao Liang, who was sipping tea with a knowing smile. The grin on Sun's face widened even more. "Old Ma, not gonna lie—your Mandarin is terrible. See? Total misunderstanding. I did lose a few checks last time and never found them. So it turns out one ended up with you! I must've dropped a couple more around your place, too. If you find any more, kindly return them to me—I appreciate it in advance."
"More… checks?" Ma's face crumpled even further. Sun waved dismissively. "Eh, doesn't matter. However many you find is fine. I must've lost a dozen or two—I didn't exactly keep count."
At that, I lowered my head, biting my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. I could practically feel the teeth marks in my jaw. Xiao Heshang, on the other hand, couldn't hold it in—he snorted aloud.
Finally, even Blind Jin couldn't stand it anymore. He coughed loudly a few times. Gao Liang set his teacup down and finally broke his silence. "Personal matters can be resolved privately," he said. Then his gaze swept over me, Sun Fatty, and Xiao Heshang before finally settling on me.
"Shen La," he said. "Tell me again in detail—exactly what happened that day."