75: Fate Turns Dark, Death Draws Near

The Five Elements life-borrowing ritual is closely intertwined with the Five Elements Five Directions Killings. Once any of the five chosen individuals die, the ritual is almost complete.

At first, I speculated that the person seeking to extend their life must be some wealthy landowner in town. But after the incident where the Earth-Killing day was mistaken for the Wood-Killing day, I learned an invaluable lesson: never assume anything too absolutely.

According to the Five Elements life-borrowing ritual, there is no rule that the victims must be people living nearby. Therefore, the person seeking to borrow life need not be a local; they could be from another town, coming here to kill and harvest life. In fact, committing the crime away from home can actually remove suspicion.

With this in mind, I suggested to Hao Jianguo that we should widen our search—look for families where an elderly relative was gravely ill some time ago, but has now suddenly recovered, as if the ailment never existed. After all, borrowing five lives does more than merely extend one’s lifespan. The power of occult methods is far beyond what common sense can fathom; once the ritual is complete, any illness, even a terminal one, can vanish without a trace.

Of course, such miracles come at a price, just as I had explained before.

Searching for clues was not my job, and even if I wished to help, there wasn’t much I could do. Not knowing how long it would take to find a lead, I stayed in the station’s guest room, studying the notes my grandmother left behind to hone my skills.

The next evening, Cao Guangshan came to see me unexpectedly. I thought he had found something, but he shook his head—he’d stumbled upon another strange case, and wanted my opinion.

An hour earlier, the station had received a report. When Cao Guangshan arrived at the scene and saw the people involved in the fight, he was so shocked it was as if he’d seen a ghost.

The man in question was Zhao Guang, the only son of the Zhao family in town. The Zhaos own several sand quarries, and Zhao Guang is a textbook rich second generation, notorious for his antics. Last month, Zhao Guang crashed during a street race. His car was totaled and he was left crippled. Even after intensive rescue efforts, he suffered partial paralysis and severe cognitive impairment.

Zhao Guang’s parents had him late in life, and after their only son became an invalid, the family tried everything to restore him, but fate is unyielding, and even the best medicine cannot perform miracles.

During the investigation, Cao Guangshan had seen Zhao Guang in the hospital—his body wrapped in bandages, drooling, a living corpse. But the Zhao Guang he saw today was perfectly fine, save for a slightly pale complexion—not a single wound on his body.

Cao Guangshan knew very well that even if Zhao Guang’s intellect had not been damaged, with multiple compound fractures, it would be impossible for him to recover enough to walk—let alone fight—within a month.

Given his experience with me, Cao Guangshan was wary. He sensed something unnatural, some hidden trickery, so he came to ask if there might be more to this case.

“Tell your chief there’s no need to look further—the target is Zhao Guang.”

“What? That can’t be right,” Cao Guangshan protested, looking at me in disbelief. “Didn’t you say the Five Elements life-borrowing was to prolong life? Zhao Guang didn’t die—he just recovered from his injuries.”

I could only smile wryly. “It’s him. We were looking in the wrong direction. The Five Elements life-borrowing does indeed extend a person’s life, but it also comes with an incredible bonus: after the ritual, no matter how severe the illness—even a terminal disease—it can be cured within hours.”

Cao Guangshan’s eyes widened in realization. I continued, “Since it’s called borrowing life, you have to understand what ‘life’ means. What’s borrowed isn’t just lifespan, but life itself—so the ritual can be used to cure illness.”

A person in a vegetative state might recover after years of careful care, but Zhao Guang’s case—an accident only last month, and now he’s lively and healthy—is far from normal.

Most importantly, Zhao Guang had been off the radar until today, and then suddenly reappeared, causing trouble—timed precisely with the Five Elements Five Directions Killings.

“Ziwu, are you sure it’s him? If you are, I’ll report it immediately.” Cao Guangshan’s eyes showed he wanted me to consider carefully. After all, my decision would set many people in motion. If the effort turned out to be wasted, some would undoubtedly grumble.

I knew he was looking out for me, especially since I’d need others’ help soon. I composed myself, reviewed everything in my mind, and nodded firmly: “Report it. When you’re ready, I’ll come with you to confirm.”

Cao Guangshan hurried off to find Hao Jianguo, who soon came to me himself. He wanted to be certain; the Zhao family was powerful, and barging in without proof could bring a lot of trouble.

To convince Hao Jianguo, I explained once more that the Five Elements life-borrowing could cure illness, and that Zhao Guang had used it not to prolong his years, but to save his life.

Hao Jianguo had overseen the investigation personally and had seen Zhao Guang bedridden—now he was as good as new. Hao Jianguo knew something was wrong.

He immediately gathered his team and took me to the Zhao household.

The Zhao family was a local powerhouse. They had fenced off a large area and built several villas—truly an imposing sight. I couldn’t help but marvel at the mysterious strength of the occult.

All people are born and die in the same way, but the lives in between are vastly different. Some are born to wealth and comfort, spend extravagantly, while others struggle in vain their whole lives, plagued by illness, left to await death in a sickbed.

Different lives, different fates.

Thus, the belief that one’s entire life can be read from their birth chart. It made me all the more determined to study the art of fate calculation.

Before entering, I considered that the life-borrower might still be in the Zhao house. I asked Hao Jianguo to station two men outside to intercept anyone suspicious trying to leave.

Once everything was arranged, Hao Jianguo led us up to the house. The Zhaos were evidently celebrating Zhao Guang’s recovery—the place was bustling.

Our unannounced arrival was met with resistance; the current head of the family, Zhao Wanglong, had the gatekeepers tell us he was too busy to see us, asking us to come back tomorrow.

As officers of the law, being treated this way made Hao Jianguo’s face darken.

“Ziwu, I’m asking you one last time—are you sure it’s this family?” Hao Jianguo looked at me seriously.

It was clear that if I nodded, Hao Jianguo was ready to force his way in. Five innocent lives were at stake—no matter how rich or influential the Zhaos were, they could not be above the law.

But recklessness always courts disaster.

I hated causing trouble for others. I asked Hao Jianguo to wait, then stepped aside, opened my third eye, and climbed onto the car roof to look into the Zhao house.

Previously, I’d said that after the ritual, all blood relatives would begin to die tragically, one after another. At the time, I thought the borrower would be an elder, and those dying would be his sons and grandsons.

Now, it was Zhao Guang who borrowed life, so the ones doomed were his parents, grandparents, and their siblings—all would suffer.

The more distant the blood relation, the less severe the curse. Those not closely related to Zhao Guang might fall ill or see their fortune wane, but his parents, if unprotected, were doomed.

I opened my third eye because, though the chosen victims would not become vengeful spirits due to the secret ritual, their unspoken resentment would gather around the Zhao family. This resentment would cause nightmares, hallucinations, and torment their minds, making it much easier for Zhao Guang’s blood relatives to meet with accidents.

With my spirit sight, I saw thick resentment swirling around the Zhao villas like black fog, concentrated into five main streams.

I nodded firmly at Hao Jianguo. “It’s this family.”

With my confirmation, Hao Jianguo wasted no time—he waved his team forward. A security guard tried to block us, but Old Zheng subdued him in a flash and tossed him aside.

The Zhaos were indeed holding a gathering. Our sudden intrusion made many faces change, especially two men whose expressions I read in a glance: both had blood on their hands.

The third eye can see more than spirits; it can also reveal whether someone has taken a life, just from their features.

But I paid no mind to them, focusing instead on the corpulent man sitting at the head of the table.

It was obvious—this must be Zhao Wanglong.

With my spirit sight, I saw resentment pooled at the center of Zhao Wanglong’s brow, his fate palace shrouded in black.

When fate turns black, death is near.

If nothing changes, he will be the first to die.