Huang Quan was basking in the sun not far from the villa, clearly in no hurry to leave. After all, the chance to capture a ghost and add it to his collection was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up. He was waiting—waiting for the family to come to him, desperate for his help.

As Tang Jiao turned and spotted the figure, she realized it was Huang Quan. Without wasting a moment, she rushed over and blocked his path, as if afraid he might slip away.

"Sir, please! Please save my brother! The ghost has taken control of him—it's about to kill the Taoist!"

Huang Quan remained unruffled, his demeanor leisurely as he remarked, "So, he resorted to force after all."

Tang Jiao was frantic. She grabbed Huang Quan’s arm, trying to pull him back towards the villa.

Huang Quan smirked. This family only sought him out when they needed something, ignoring him otherwise. Such self-serving behavior. But his curiosity about the ghost urged him to follow her, eager to see what kind of spirit he was about to capture.

Back in Tang Ming's room, the old man had already regained consciousness and was now part of a tug-of-war to free the Taoist. The Taoist's head was clamped under Tang Ming's armpit, his hands being pulled by the steward, while Tang Ming's father clung desperately to the Taoist’s legs.

As soon as Tang Jiao stepped through the door, she joined the fray, pulling on the Taoist and urging Huang Quan, "Sir, don’t just stand there—help us!"

Huang Quan, however, was in no rush. Using his Qi vision, he observed that while a dark aura hovered over Tang Ming, it was encased in a protective layer of white energy. The rich young man was in no immediate danger.

Instead of intervening, Huang Quan pulled up a chair and sat down, content to watch the spectacle unfold. Since Tang Ming wasn’t in dire straits, there was no reason to rush. After all, wasn’t the Maoshan Taoist supposed to be so powerful? Let’s see how he handles this.

Huang Quan leaned back, looking relaxed as if he were watching a play, only missing a bowl of sunflower seeds.

The steward, glancing over at Huang Quan, nearly lost his temper. This young man wasn’t helping at all—he was just enjoying the show!

Tang Ming’s father, winded from the struggle, had no choice but to let go, breathing heavily. "Young man, you've seen my son's condition. If you can help him, the Tang family will reward you handsomely!"

Still, Huang Quan remained unmoved, sitting back with his legs crossed, smiling as he watched the ongoing struggle.

Suddenly, Tang Ming released his grip, sending both the steward and the Taoist crashing to the ground. The steward was panting heavily, while the Taoist's face had turned a deep purple, gasping desperately for air.

Before anyone could react, Tang Ming got up, his head swiveling like a puppet's, and spotting the fruit knife on the bedside table, he snatched it up and aimed it at his chest.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Despite his age, Tang Ming’s father moved with surprising speed, leaping forward to grab the knife before it could descend. Blood dripped steadily onto the bed as Tang Ming’s father, holding the blade in his hand, watched in horror as his son, or rather the entity possessing him, licked its lips like a starving wolf, then began to suck on his father's bleeding hand with a perverse delight.

Despair filled Tang Ming's father's eyes as he realized that the creature before him wasn’t his son, but something that was devouring his very soul. With a choked sob, he pleaded, "Young man, please! Save my son. If you can save him, I’ll give you fifty million!"

The steward, now on his knees, looked at the scene with a mix of guilt and fear. "It was my fault. I was blind. Young man, please save our young master!"

Upon hearing the offer of fifty million, Huang Quan finally stood up, his expression nonchalant as he said, "Well, for the sake of a father’s love, I suppose I’ll give it a try."

He approached Tang Ming, examining the ghost clinging to him. It was a female spirit, though not nearly as beautiful as Yang Mei. She was furious, baring her teeth in a grotesque snarl after being provoked by the Taoist.

Huang Quan almost chuckled. The ghost, though seemingly enraged, appeared more to be taking advantage of Tang Ming, entwining herself around him, sucking his life force with an almost sensual fervor.

Shaking his head, Huang Quan muttered to himself, "If I let you continue feeding on Yang Qi, who knows how many more people you’ll harm? No, I can’t allow you to remain here."

Closing his eyes slightly, he summoned the Hell Apartment. The female ghost's expression turned to one of disbelief as she felt an invisible force pulling her away from Tang Ming’s body.

Desperate, she clung to Tang Ming’s neck, but the pull from the Hell Apartment was too strong. She was helpless against it, her struggles futile. In moments, the apartment’s door swung open, and she was drawn inside, dissolving into white smoke.

When Huang Quan opened his eyes, Tang Ming had regained consciousness. The purplish hue had faded from his face, and his breathing had steadied. Only a faint trace of blood at the corner of his mouth remained as evidence of what had transpired.

Tang Jiao held her brother close, while Tang Ming’s father, overwhelmed with emotion, wept openly. He clasped his son’s hand, trembling as he asked, "Ming’er, can you see me? It’s your father!"

Tang Ming, weak but conscious, managed to whisper, "Dad..."

It was enough to break the old man’s composure, and he began to sob uncontrollably.

Huang Quan sighed. Helping to reunite a family like this was truly a good deed—perhaps even worthy of extending his lifespan?

With a satisfied smile, Huang Quan strolled towards the door, ignoring the astonished stares from the steward and the Taoist.

Tang Jiao tried to call after him, wanting to offer him his reward, but when she looked up, Huang Quan was already gone.

"Father, that man saved my brother. You must ensure he receives the money you promised."

Tang Ming’s father nodded, intending to chase after Huang Quan, but his son held him back. "Dad, where are you going? I feel so weak... I don’t want you and Sister to leave me."

With a sigh, the old man relented. Right now, his son’s health was the priority. If the young man had left, he would use all his resources to find him. A promise made is a promise kept.

Meanwhile, the steward and the Taoist exchanged bewildered glances. They had both witnessed the terror of the spirit haunting Tang Ming. The steward had brought in a dozen Taoists, all of whom had failed to deal with the malevolent spirit.

The Taoist, who had nearly lost his life in the struggle, couldn’t believe his eyes. Huang Quan had merely closed his eyes, without uttering a single incantation, and the ghost had surrendered? It seemed too simple—impossible even.

Convinced that Huang Quan was merely putting on a show, the Taoist resolved to expose him and immediately followed him out.

Huang Quan stepped outside into the courtyard, gazing up at the sky. It was time to find out more about the ghost he had just captured.

Closing his eyes slightly, he summoned the Hell Apartment once more. At the entrance, a figure slowly emerged.