The two maids didn't expect me to hear their conversation from behind, and their faces turned pale with fright. They quickly waved their hands, saying they didn't say anything, and tried to leave with the unused plates and bowls.

I cleared my throat and said calmly, "If you tell me the truth, it'll be fine. But if you don't, I'll go ask Mr. Zhao and Mrs. Zhao what you meant by 'meat dates.'"

The two maids' backs stiffened, clearly fearing Mr. and Mrs. Zhao. They whispered the truth to me.

It turned out that although Mr. Zhao was over seventy, he was extremely afraid of death and sought the path to immortality like the Emperor Qinshihuang. Nobody knew where he got the recipe for a certain elixir, but the finished product was round and resembled a date. And Mrs. Zhao was needed to help make it.

"Oh? I didn't expect Mrs. Zhao to have such skills," I said. "But what does this have to do with being disgusting?"

Their faces turned red as they explained that after the elixir was made, it needed to be nourished by Mrs. Zhao's feminine essence.

"Feminine essence..." I understood. My ears burned. This was some weird shit.

Moreover, Mr. Zhao didn't call it medicine, but "meat dates" - dates nourished by a woman's body.

After they finished, they begged me not to tell anyone what they said. This was the biggest secret in the Zhao family, and if Mr. Zhao found out, they might not be able to leave the Zhao household alive.

Both of them had honest faces with high cheekbones and square jaws, and they didn't seem like they were lying.

I quickly composed myself and asked them, "So, did Mr. Zhao's efforts pay off? Did the elixir work?"

The two maids exchanged glances and nodded. "It worked!"

Mr. Zhao had been sickly and hunched over before, but since he started taking the meat dates, he had become more energetic day by day. Even the wrinkles on his face had decreased, as if he had taken some kind of miracle drug.

I thought to myself, this kind of sorcery was so evil. Could it be a dark art?

But at first glance, this was a matter between a husband and wife. It didn't seem to have anything to do with Zhang Liang. I continued to ask, "What about Zhang Liang? What kind of person is he?"

The two maids said he was a playboy who liked to flirt with women.

"So he's really a romantic libertine?" I said. "If that's the case, then he died as he lived, so what's the problem?"

At this moment, Cheng Xinghe also came over and picked up a fan from a plate, eating with relish. "There are a lot of women in this house, and they're all quite attractive."

Women? What did the number of women have to do with you? Were you thinking of causing trouble in this household?

The two maids thought Cheng Xinghe was complimenting them and their eyes lit up when they saw how handsome he was.

But... I came to my senses. This glutton was usually much more interested in food than women. Did he mean there were a lot of female ghosts here?

The younger maid was about to boldly ask Cheng Xinghe for his WeChat, but the older one nudged her and gave her a meaningful look. She looked behind me and immediately lowered her head, as if she had seen something terrifying.

Indeed, a magnetic voice came from behind me: "Master, did you come to inspect the feng shui inside?"

I turned around and saw a muscular man with a cleanly shaven flat-top, handsome features, and a sort of Western look. He was quite attractive.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

I remembered that this man had followed Mr. and Mrs. Zhao out earlier. He had strong eyebrows, a prominent forehead, and a prominent nosebridge. It seemed that he relied on his physical strength for work and had considerable martial arts skills. Like Zhang Liang, he was one of their bodyguards.

I quickly said, "It's nothing. There's a dish I really like, and I asked them how it was made." After finishing, I nodded to the two maids and thanked them for their trouble. They seemed relieved and quickly left.

The bodyguard's name was He Qizheng, which was the same as a certain凉茶 brand. He was following Mr. Zhao's instructions to entertain me and asked热情的ly, "Is there any dish you particularly like, Master? I'll have someone prepare some good ones for you. Our master said that since you're here to help us with such a big favor, we must take good care of you."

I had eaten since I arrived, and seeing how much Cheng Xinghe liked the fan, I said that was fine with me. But it was just something you could buy at a grocery store.

Cheng Xinghe seemed to be choked by the fan and coughed violently.

He Qizheng's face stiffened slightly, but he smiled and said, "The quality at the grocery store can't compare to what we have at the Zhao household. Let us take care of it for you."

What was wrong? Why did these two have such strange expressions? Did I say something wrong?

After Cheng Xinghe finished coughing, he told me, "You country bumpkin, that's not dragon's mouth fan, it's shark's fin."

Damn, now I'd made a fool of myself. But the bodyguard seemed well-trained and didn't say much. He just continued to show me around and asked if I wanted to see the whole house?

I looked inside and saw that Han Dongliang had already gone to the back garden. So I nodded and looked back. Shang He should still be discussing building materials business with Mr. Zhao. He turned around and gave me a thumbs-up gesture.

Following the bodyguard, I saw a tall and straight tree in the southwest corner of the atrium - if I wasn't mistaken, it looked like a butterfly birch.

This type of tree is considered a rare species. In the past two years, it has become an endangered protected tree species. Such a big one looks like it's hundreds of years old. I asked He Qizheng how long this tree had been planted here.

He Qizheng said, "You really have a good eye. This tree is hard to come by. It was specially transplanted from Xichuan a few years ago, and it cost a lot of money at the time."

The tree is a good tree, but it's not a good idea to plant it here - I asked He Qizheng, "I'm afraid Mrs. Zhao is not the first wife? How did the previous lady of the house die?"

As soon as he heard my words, He Qizheng's face changed, and a murderous look appeared in his eyes. However, he should have been trained to hide his emotions, and immediately suppressed that look, asking innocently, "Why do you ask this?"

Having a tree in the southwest corner is called a "matricide pillar" in feng shui, which specifically overcomes the lady of the house. If the person is strong, the tree is weak, and if the tree is strong, the person is weak. Since this tree is so lush, it must have overcome and killed a lady of the house given its size.

He Qizheng finally loosened his unconsciously tightened fist and said in a light tone, "So that's the case. The art of feng shui is truly profound and impressive. Nothing can be hidden from a master's eyes. To tell you the truth, the first wife died of illness. At that time, she and our lord were deeply attached to each other, and our lord was very sad. He almost followed his first wife to the grave. It was only thanks to our current lady that our lord was saved."

If I hadn't heard the words of the two maids earlier, I would have almost believed it. Could that old Mr. Zhao, who wants to live as long as the heavens, really commit suicide for a woman?

It's better to see through things without saying them outright if you want to remain friends, so I didn't point it out and continued walking inside.

As I walked further, I felt that their house was not simple - several feng shui aspects seemed to have been altered, which felt off.

Truly, even a small temple can have strong winds, and a shallow pond can have many turtles. I didn't expect there to be some tricky business in Mr. Zhao's home. Perhaps the reason for the haunting this time was quite complicated.

At this moment, He Shang came over and asked me in a low voice, "Buddy, I saw that guy Han was aggressive. He's determined to give you a tough time, swaggering around with a compass. Do you think you can outdo him?"

I told him to rest assured, and then I remembered to ask He Shang in a voice that He Qizheng couldn't hear, "Aren't you and Mr. Zhao old friends? Do you know anything about the former lady?"

He Shang asked me, "Which former lady are you referring to?"

I was somewhat surprised by his question: "What do you mean by that? Were there several former ladies?"

"Of course," He Shang replied. "Since the death of Mr. Zhao's first wife, he has married seven or eight new wives over the past seven or eight years, each one a beautiful young woman in her early twenties. However - strangely enough, none of Mr. Zhao's new wives have stayed married for more than a year."

Cheng Xinghe asked while eating shark fin soup, "What do you mean? Did they all divorce because they couldn't stand serving an old man?"

He Shang shook his head and made a gesture across his neck: "They're all dead."

I was taken aback for a moment. One dead wife every year?

So, were the female ghosts that Cheng Xinghe saw all Mr. Zhao's previous wives?