“Brother, isn’t this a little inappropriate? We agreed before that you’d take three days, and I’d take three days, so we could quickly sort out Shi Tu’s case, right? I understand you have difficulties, but if you keep making no progress, I can't do my work later." My tone was noticeably poor.

Although I hadn't been idle these past few days, I had also been trying other ways to understand the situation. However, even Lingdang couldn't pry out internal information, so how could an outsider like me easily know the inside story? All I managed to find out was the whereabouts of Shi Hui's soul and body.

Shi Hui's body was in the hands of the current Sect Leader of the Corpse Control Sect, who was Shi Hui's father. And Shi Hui's soul was in the hands of the Young Sect Leader of the Blood Ghost Sect.

In order to better control the soul, the Blood Ghost Sect had used secret techniques to erase Shi Hui's memories. Although the technique wasn't as potent as Meng Po's soup (elixir of forgetfulness), it wasn't far off, so it was basically impossible to get information from him.

The main members who investigated Shi Hui's death were all elders of the Corpse Control Sect, who stayed in Corpse Town year-round and rarely came out. Seeing them was even harder than seeing Shi Tu.

I only had a few days, and it was impossible to investigate the real cause of Shi Hui's death. I could only try to understand Shi Tu's situation first and find a way to clear his name. As for who killed Shi Hui, it was none of my business.

The driver heard my dissatisfaction and quickly said, "It's not that there's no progress. I've already contacted a few people. Give me one more day, just one day, and I guarantee I'll get it done."

"Fine, one last day. If you still can't handle it, I'm really not waiting."

The driver didn't disappoint me. On the last day, he really got things done. He drove that hearse to pick me up again and took me to a village overnight.

Unlike ordinary villages, it was already midnight, but the village was still brightly lit, and the streets were bustling with people. Many hawkers were still shouting loudly.

"This is..."

"Candlelight Village, a village outside Corpse Town, a place that belongs to Corpse Town, but outsiders can enter. Manager Wan, please—"

The driver took me into a small restaurant, greeted the owner, told me to wait at table number seven, ordered wine and dishes for me, poured the wine, and then left.

The restaurant was brightly lit, and each table had a tall candlestick with nine burning candles. The flames flickered, giving a very unreal feeling.

"Guest, have a drink." The owner pushed the wine glass over.

"Thanks, but I'm waiting for someone and don't want to drink for now."

"Guest, don't be like that. Although my shop is small, it's still in Candelight Village. I've been running this shop for many years. Can't I even offer you a drink?"

As he spoke, the owner pushed the wine glass towards me again.

"What do you mean? Do people have to drink when they come to your restaurant, whether they want to or not?" My tone wasn't harsh, but I had no intention of picking up the glass.

The owner's face immediately fell. "Not everyone has to drink, but you have to drink the wine I offer."

I turned my head and looked at the people eating at the other tables. Some people were toasting each other, while some tables didn't even have a wine bottle, indicating that they hadn't been drinking.

"Why is the owner offering me a drink? Do I look particularly good?"

"Don't you think you're talking too much nonsense?" The owner slammed his hand down, and two young men in the back room immediately lifted the curtain and stood behind the owner.

"What's the meaning of this? If I don't drink this glass of wine today, I can forget about leaving this village, is that it?"

"That's right." The owner said, word by word.

What was even stranger was that the owner's aggressive and tense appearance didn't seem to surprise anyone at the other tables. They were still chatting, laughing, drinking, and eating, as if the owner fighting with people every day was a regular entertainment program in this shop.

I looked at the three people in front of me, then at the wine on the table, and laughed directly: "Let me put it this way, I actually have no problem with the wine, and I have no problem with you three either. It's just that if you three insist on forcing me to drink when I don't want to, then I'll have a big problem with that, so big that I might start hitting people at any moment."

"Alright—" The owner called out, and the two young men behind him immediately rushed towards me, picking up the wine bottles on the table and trying to smash them on my head, standard gangster fighting moves.

I didn't hold back either, grabbed the owner and used his head as a pad under the wine bottle.

It had to be said that the owner's head was indeed hard. The wine bottle shattered with a crack, but his head was still intact. Apart from a few streaks of blood coming from the top of his head, nothing seemed wrong.

The owner was also strong-willed. Even with his head broken, he insisted on standing there for three seconds before his eyes rolled back and he fell to the ground.

I saw the young men looking at me, probably wanting to put the blame on me, so I quickly waved my hand, "It's nothing to do with me. The wine bottle is from your own house, and you're the ones who hit the owner. It's nothing to do with me."

Even though I had made it so clear, these unreasonable bastards just wouldn't listen. A group of dozens of people swarmed over, each with a weapon, intending to attack me.

I blinked and looked at them, "What's the meaning of this? Fighting?"

The group didn't answer my question, but answered me with their actions. A steel pipe was swung directly at my head.

"Stop!"

A roar came from the door. The young man swinging the steel pipe shuddered violently, but the steel pipe in his hand had already been swung out. It was impossible to pull it back so easily. Seeing that it was about to hit me, another young man quickly put his arm up to block.

Then, I saw that arm bend at a very unnatural angle.

Alas, these people from the Corpse Control Sect just don't cherish their bodies. They fracture their bones at every turn. What's the point?

"Master Tu!"

"Master Tu!"

"Master Tu!"

Except for the owner who had been knocked unconscious by the wine bottle, everyone else present, including the restaurant waiters, the gangsters who had just attacked, and the customers eating on the side, all stood up respectfully and called out Master Tu towards the door.

I also glanced at the door. That face shape was indeed a bit like Lingdang's, but this aura was not something Lingdang could compare to. Was Lingdang really sure that her father was a murder suspect and had his personal freedom restricted? I thought Old Master Tu was living a comfortable life. Apart from the color of his clothes being too plain, all his clothes were white, and the pomp of his travels hadn't decreased at all.

Shi Tu scanned the restaurant, and finally his eyes landed on me.