Chapter 22: A Widow-Maker’s Fate

A day later, Li Changfeng and his motorcade dropped us off at home. I got off in Fengming City to return to school, while my grandmother and the others headed back to our old family house.

Later, I heard that Li Changfeng had paved the road from the village all the way to my grandmother’s house. He had even extended the paving all the way to the county road in her name. He had also added an extension to the house, though he respected my grandmother’s wish to leave the old structure untouched.

Back at school, I returned to my nine-to-five routine of idling away, struggling as always to make ends meet with my allowance. However, I made sure to wake up at four or five in the morning every day to meditate and practice my techniques.

A few days later, Little Zhao showed up to check in. When I saw him, I was astonished to find him decked out in designer labels, clutching a "brick" mobile phone that looked heavy enough to kill an ox if swung with force. In the few minutes we spoke, he took several calls, all of them from women. My own phone, by comparison, was pathetically small—barely larger than a cigarette pack—and it rarely rang, yet I still had to scrape together money to pay the bill.

"Hey, Little Fang, you’re back! Are your injuries fully healed?" Little Zhao asked with the air of an older brother.

"You’ve really made it big, Brother Zhao. This outfit must have cost at least ten thousand," I said with a smile.

It dawned on me then that they must have gone back into the tomb while I was unconscious, sold the artifacts they found, and left me behind.

"Heh, heh, Brother Fang and I closed a few more deals and made a little money. You should come drink with us at his place tonight," Little Zhao said, grinning.

I cursed them inwardly for being disloyal, but reasoned that I might as well take advantage of the free meal. "You got it, Brother Zhao. I’ll be there for sure." Truth be told, I was broke again and couldn't even afford next month’s phone bill.

Little Zhao seemed to sense my predicament. He smiled, pulled a stack of cash from his inner pocket, counted out five bills, and handed them to me. "Take this for now, Little Fang. Pay me back when you’re flush."

I was stunned for a moment, but I took the money and said, "Thanks for the tip, Brother Zhao."

I remembered something Li Si had told me during my trip to the provincial capital: "In this world, only money is truly clean and fair. It is the human heart that is dirty."

I tucked the money into my pocket with a smile and continued, "How is Brother Fang doing? Has the business grown?"

"Oh, definitely. He’s changed lines now. He opened an investigation firm—he’s a legitimate businessman these days."

I froze, looking at Little Zhao in confusion.

"A private investigator. All the work is legal and tax-paying."

I nodded, though I thought to myself, "A dog can’t stop eating dung; I’d be surprised if he were actually running a legitimate business." Aloud, I said, "Well, I’ll have to congratulate him. Let’s all have a good time tonight."

"Right, right. We’ll call Dahu and Erlengzi, too. We’ll have a proper gathering."

I was momentarily stunned, caught off guard that those two had moved to the city as well. Little Zhao seemed to realize he’d said too much and quickly explained, "They’ve been working with Brother Fang and me for the last two months. They’ve made a decent share and both bought apartments in the city."

I nodded. It seemed everyone had struck it rich. Little Zhao’s face flushed, and before he could say much more, a phone call whisked him away.

At four in the afternoon, I took a taxi to Fatty Fang’s place. A sign for "Hengda Investigations" hung on the door, and the storefront had been renovated. As soon as I stepped inside, Fatty Fang was drinking tea at his executive desk. Seeing me, he rose with a smile. "Oh, little one! It’s been a while, I’ve missed you like crazy."

"Brother Fang, I’ve missed you too. But my foot injury was quite severe, so I stayed at my grandmother’s to recover before coming back."

"Haha, as long as you're better! We’re going to drink plenty tonight."

We were still talking when Dahu walked in with Xiao Lian.

"Dahu, you’re just in time. Little Fang just arrived. Let's have some tea while Xiao Lian goes to cook for us."

"You got it, Brother Fang." Xiao Lian seemed very familiar with the place; she dropped her bag and headed for the kitchen.

"Damn it, I’m so pissed off," Dahu muttered.

"What’s wrong, brother? Who are you so angry at?" Fatty Fang asked.

Dahu glanced at me and gave a nod. "Little Fang is one of our own, don't worry."

I took a quick look at Dahu’s face and was startled. My grandfather was right—Dahu’s brow was darkened, and his forehead had a murky cast. These were clear signs of impending misfortune.

I felt a jolt, but I kept my mouth shut. My grandmother used to say that a person’s fate is predestined; if you interfere with someone’s destiny without a karmic reason, you end up bearing the consequences yourself.

"Damn that Erlengzi..." Dahu started cursing again. He checked the kitchen, then leaned in and whispered, "The bastard is sneaking around with Xiao Lian behind my back. He’s not a man at all."

My gaze sharpened. *Dahu isn't as dim as he looks,* I thought. *He knows?*

"Brother, don't jump to conclusions. We're all brothers here; you’ll hurt the friendship if you’re wrong," Fatty Fang said in a low voice.

"Damn it, I’m not wrong. Erlengzi’s wife told me herself. She said she caught them in the act."

"What? You believe that big-mouthed woman?" Fatty Fang asked, surprised. "If anything female gets near Erlengzi, she claims he’s having an affair. Don't be like her, paranoid all the time."

"Son of a bitch, this time is different. Xiao Lian even mentioned Erlengzi in her sleep."

I watched from the sidelines. Dahu was getting more and more agitated, his voice rising. Just then, the door opened, and Erlengzi walked in with a woman. We all looked over. Fatty Fang’s face darkened. "Erlengzi, can’t you manage that big mouth of your wife? She’s always gossiping behind our backs."

The woman with Erlengzi, who had been smiling, let her face drop instantly. "Brother Fang, that’s not right. How can you, as the eldest, talk about your sister-in-law like that?"

"Chunhua, don't play innocent. Didn't you tell me that something was going on between Xiao Lian and Erlengzi?"

Erlengzi, hearing this, got riled up. "Dahu, you idiot! You believe whatever anyone tells you? We grew up together! You know what kind of man I am—do you really think I’d mess around with my sister-in-law?"

At that moment, Xiao Lian came out from the back. I scanned everyone’s faces. Aside from Fatty Fang, there was something off about all of them. Dahu’s face was dark, Erlengzi’s forehead was grayish-white, and Xiao Lian and Chunhua both had flushed cheeks and watery eyes—signs that matched the physiognomy descriptions in my manual.

Xiao Lian had "peach blossom eyes," the sign of a woman prone to infidelity. And Erlengzi’s wife, Chunhua, was even worse: "A woman with high cheekbones kills her husband without a blade; if there is no flesh under the eyes, she will kill one husband after another." As the old saying goes, the face reflects the heart—she was a classic "husband-killer" by fate.