Wu Datong's entire life seemed to revolve around his son.
Based on this, the ghost case should center on Wu Liren.
Wu Dajing's account was indeed consistent with this—after all, dozens of members of the Wu Liren family were missing in this case.
But Zhao Fusheng caught the key point: memory interference.
She was not bothered by the convoluted clues, directly pointing to the core of the problem: memory confusion.
And the memory confusion arose because of Wu Datong's other, unknown son. Zhao Fusheng keenly grasped this crucial detail, and the seemingly messy and clue-less ghost case suddenly had a central focus.
With Wu Datong's mysterious 'son' as the main focus, Zhao Fusheng could then connect the other clues, and handling this ghost case would no longer be like a headless fly.
The horses pulled the carriage, moving along the uneven path, making a 'clank' sound. The carriage shook violently, forcing Zhao Fusheng to sit firmly, astride, to prevent her bottom from leaving the cushion.
Clutching the carriage wall, she recalled the timing of Wu Dajing's second memory confusion, and a thought surfaced in her mind: Wu Datong's death might be related to his mysterious 'son,' and Wu Dajing's confused memory was the evidence!
Once she understood this, Zhao Fusheng's thoughts suddenly cleared like the clouds parting to reveal the sun.
She said to Wu Dajing:
"Tell me about Wu Datong." Then, remembering that this village elder might be influenced by fierce ghost power and his thoughts might not be clear when speaking of Wu Datong, she simply changed her questioning method:
"Wu Datong passed away on July 21st. How old was he?"
As soon as her question was clear, Wu Dajing's spirits indeed lifted. "He was forty-one."
"…" Zhao Fusheng was startled.
Zhang Chuanshi immediately started complaining:
"You old man are insane."
Although he arrived a step late earlier, when Fan Bisi dragged him away later, he should have briefly explained the cause and effect of this ghost case to him. He probably had a general idea of the events in Doghead Village.
Now, being forced to handle a ghost case, he was already anxious, and having to listen to Wu Dajing babble, he finally couldn't hold back:
"You yourself said that Wu Datong was a few years older than you, and he just died last month. You don't look like someone in their thirties, do you? You're an old man, how can you talk so crazily?"
His mood was terrible, and he cursed:
"Wu Datong didn't have children until his thirties, and now his son is forty-one. You're saying his father is younger than him? Does that even sound plausible to you? Unless he died back then—"
Zhang Chuanshi didn't want to handle a ghost case and had many grievances. He dared not be angry with Zhao Fusheng, so he vented all his anger on this incoherent village elder from Doghead Village.
Wu Dajing was startled by the scolding, his eyes showing a bewildered and lost expression, then, as if waking from a dream, he quickly added:
"Yes, yes, yes, it's my fault, I misremembered. Wu Datong is seventy-one this year…"
"I think you old man—" Zhang Chuanshi, hearing his apology, didn't let up and wanted to scold him further. Zhao Fusheng lazily called out:
"Enough."
"But—" Zhang Chuanshi was still angry. Hearing Zhao Fusheng's call, he still dared to retort:
"He's talking—"
"Shut up."
Zhao Fusheng repeated.
Zhang Chuanshi heard the warning in her words and his composure instantly broke:
"Lord Zhao, we are allies, why are you telling me to shut up? This old man is clearly talking nonsense, I think he has ulterior motives."
As he spoke, he turned his head halfway, his face sharp-featured with a monkey-like mouth, and a handlebar mustache that trembled as he spoke.
"Then tell me, what are his ulterior motives?" Zhao Fusheng asked him.
As she spoke, her gaze fell on Wu Dajing's face.
The village elder still looked somewhat bewildered, his hand unconsciously scratching his waist.
At the same time, she keenly sensed a strange malevolent aura spreading, a faint, almost imperceptible presence of a fierce ghost.
Zhao Fusheng discovered that after activating the first layer of hell, her perception of fierce ghost auras increased, and she was very certain of the ghost's presence.
While casually chatting with Zhang Chuanshi, she silently unleashed hell, attempting to force the fierce ghost to materialize and capture it within hell.
Shadows suddenly spread out, radiating a meter around the carriage.
The Investiture of the Gods prompted: Nothing found.
After unleashing hell, she did not capture the fierce ghost.
Instead, because she rashly used the power of hell, it caused the fierce ghost on her body and the ghost hand in her sleeve to stir.
Zhang Chuanshi, driving the carriage, was completely unaware of the precarious situation and continued to speak:
"…I think he might be trying to trick me into going to Doghead Village. In this world, what kind of people aren't there?"
The ghost hand in Zhao Fusheng's sleeve loosened the tightly clutched human skin paper, its five fingers unfurling and gripping her wrist tightly.
The cold ghost hand pressed against her, and death energy spread. Zhao Fusheng subtly used 5 points of merit value, causing the ghost hand and the fierce ghost to fall back into slumber.
This moment seemed fleeting but was, in fact, incredibly perilous.
Zhao Fusheng's forehead was sweating. She calmly pulled up her sleeve, glanced down at the inside of her wrist, and simultaneously replied to Zhang Chuanshi:
"Even if he's tricking me, what's there to trick an old man like you for?"
Several horrifying purple bruises were left on her wrist, while the ghost hand that had almost reawakened was suppressed again by the merit value, transforming into a small, exquisite miniature arm, lying obediently in her sleeve.
Despite the perilous situation, Zhao Fusheng's composure was astonishing.
Her tone was so calm that Zhang Chuanshi completely failed to notice anything amiss. Hearing her words, he grumbled defiantly:
"Your Excellency is looking down on an old man—"
"Alright, stop talking nonsense."
Zhao Fusheng calmed her breathing, cut off Zhang Chuanshi's complaints, and then looked at Wu Dajing, saying sternly:
"Wu Dajing, how old exactly is this Wu Datong?"
"Your Excellency, this Wu Datong is seventy, seventy-one years old." He was quite flustered after being scolded by Zhang Chuanshi.
"I might really be muddled, even getting that wrong."
He himself clearly couldn't understand why he would muddle-headedly say Wu Datong was forty-one.
But Zhao Fusheng, hearing this now, was certain he was under the influence of a fierce ghost.
There was a ghost on this village elder from Doghead Village, and he himself hadn't realized when he brought the ghost out of the village.
And this ghost had a problem.
She recalled the battle with the Beggar Ghost in Beggar's Alley. For humans, a fierce ghost's body switches between tangible and intangible states. Unless one uses the power of a fierce ghost, one cannot truly grasp the ghost's 'body.'
But what was strange was that the ghost on Wu Dajing was different from ordinary fierce ghosts. She tried to capture it with the power of hell, but she caught nothing!
This meant that the fierce ghost on Wu Dajing seemed to be an illusory existence, undetectable even by hell.
Forgotten in people's memories, disappeared from ghosts' sight…
What did this fierce ghost in Doghead Village, Wuan Town, experience? Why did it awaken?
Zhao Fusheng had discovered its existence, but what were its rules and patterns for killing? How would she force it to materialize and then capture it?
A myriad of questions surfaced in Zhao Fusheng's mind, and she would have to slowly find the answers herself.
"Human memory is bound to have oversights."
She suppressed her complicated thoughts and gently reassured Wu Dajing:
"It's nothing to occasionally get things wrong."
For some reason, Zhang Chuanshi felt a little sour upon hearing this.
Ever since he started interacting with Zhao Fusheng, he had seen her cunning, suspicious, assertive, and terrifying side. He feared and resented her, but he had never seen her gently comforting someone. Hearing this, he dismissed it: "He's just a country old man…"
"If Your Excellency has something to say, just slap him twice, and he'll be honest and confess everything."
Zhao Fusheng frowned and said in a harsh tone:
"Then if I slap you twice now, will you be honest?"
"…" Zhang Chuanshi shrunk his head, and indeed, he became quiet and dared not utter another sound.
Having subdued him, Zhao Fusheng asked Wu Dajing again:
"Tell me about Wu Datong."
"Yes… yes."
Wu Dajing nodded repeatedly.
He was now somewhat anxious. For some reason, he was usually decisive and respected by everyone in Doghead Village.
But upon entering the city, perhaps seeing so many important figures, he became less responsive and more timid.
After being criticized by Zhang Chuanshi, he felt both ashamed and afraid, but hearing Zhao Fusheng speak to him gently, he gradually developed a sense that he could help 'Your Excellency.'
He worried that saying the wrong thing again would disappoint Zhao Fusheng, so he thought carefully for a long time before asking:
"Your Excellency, where would you like to hear about Wu Datong from?"
"You can start wherever you like. If you're really unsure, then start from his youth." Zhao Fusheng finished, then added:
"You and Wu Datong are roughly the same age, and you're a village elder. I don't think anyone in Doghead Village knows him better than you, do they?"
With her subtle flattery, Wu Dajing's eyes instantly lit up, and he puffed out his chest:
"Your Excellency speaks wisely."
Having received praise, his mood was different from before. He pondered for a moment:
"When Wu Datong's father was alive, he was my father's cousin, from a different branch of the family." Wu Dajing's expression became a little more serious as he said:
"I used to hear my old man say that Wu Datong's grandfather died very early. His father had a very hard early life, fostered by relatives, barely growing up on scraps of food. His health was very poor, and not long after Wu Datong was born, he passed away, leaving behind an orphan and a widow."
Zhao Fusheng hadn't expected that by telling him to speak freely, he would start from Wu Datong's birth.
Fortunately, this journey was still long, and there was plenty of time. She had nothing else to do for now, so she simply let Wu Dajing continue.
Perhaps believing his words were greatly helpful to Zhao Fusheng, the 'reused' Wu Dajing was highly enthusiastic. He organized his thoughts in advance, and when speaking of Wu Datong's past, his words were no longer chaotic; instead, they were very orderly.
"Wu Datong's elderly mother raised him alone. Because his family was poor when he was young, they often went hungry, and his mother, to survive, would pull him around to beg for food."
As a result, many people in the village looked down on him. Some children often beat and scolded him, throwing mud, insects, and rodents at his house, and no one played with him.
"At that time, our two families were somewhat related. My father saw that he was about the same age as me and occasionally, behind my mother's back, sent them some soup and groceries."
In those days, everyone's lives were tough. And so, stumbling along, time passed.
It was also because of such a upbringing that Wu Datong developed an extremely extreme personality.
"He loved to boast, often telling people that he would get rich when he grew up, make his elderly mother live a good life, and make those who looked down on him kowtow to him in the future."
He also loved to show off, always gravitating towards excitement.
People treated him as a joke, but he didn't mind; as long as he could be famous and seen, it was enough.
Unfortunately, by the time he was thirty, Wu Datong still hadn't married due to his family's poverty.
After becoming an adult, his personality began to change drastically, becoming introverted and quiet. But Wu Dajing had a good relationship with him, and they still kept in touch, knowing that Wu Datong had grown angry with his current situation.
"He was often discontent, complaining about the unfairness of fate." He no longer sought attention. When mocked, he felt angry but learned to swallow his resentment, quickly walking away when he heard taunts.
"I was a few years younger than him then, but my third son was already seven, while he became increasingly reclusive." At this point, Wu Dajing paused for a moment before continuing:
"One day, he suddenly came to my house mysteriously, saying he had found a wife."
Hearing this, Zhao Fusheng became interested and asked:
"Where did this wife come from?"
"I don't know where he found her. I suspect she was abducted. She seemed mentally unstable, crying whenever she saw someone." He finished, then seemed somewhat puzzled:
"Her appearance? I didn't see it clearly. Wu Datong called me over in the evening, and the room was dark. I only vaguely saw her, she was somewhat young."
Finally, he sighed deeply:
"I never saw her again after that. Wu Datong kept her very strictly confined, and no one in the village knew about her."
"It wasn't until over a year later that his elderly mother suddenly came to my mother and my wife for help, saying his wife was in labor and about to give birth."
At this point, he suddenly felt his head itching intensely. He raised his hand and scratched several times, as if feeling something, his fingertips delving into his hair bun and digging, actually tearing off a sizable piece of dandruff.
The dandruff, attached to several strong white hairs he had forcibly pulled out, Wu Dajing looked at it twice, then pinched it between two fingers, rubbed it a few times, and flicked it out from the open carriage window.
The rolled-up piece of dandruff flew past Zhang Chuanshi's cheek. He cursed:
"You old fool, what did you just scratch off and throw at me?!"
The fierce ghost aura reappeared. Zhao Fusheng ignored Zhang Chuanshi's curses. Her expression was calm, but her heart tightened. Wu Dajing, after being cursed, felt somewhat embarrassed and kept rubbing his fingers.
He dared not speak to Zhang Chuanshi, so he steered the conversation back to Wu Datong's childbirth:
"My wife was busy then and couldn't go, so my mother rushed over first. Afterward, she returned and said a son had been born."
"Was it Wu Liren?"
Zhao Fusheng, hearing this and correlating it with the reappearance of the fierce ghost aura, already had a vague guess.
Wu Dajing's next words were indeed as she expected.
He shook his head and said:
"No."
Regarding Wu Datong's other son, he again encountered a problem in his recollection.
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