C11 The Ultimate Temptation Condition

I submerged the vessel meant for containing malevolent spirits in a pot of blood-soaked glutinous rice.

If the malevolent entity took a hit, the person controlling it would suffer repercussions, potentially even a lethal backlash.

After a brief pause to collect my thoughts, I resolved to call that guy.

He had previously switched off his phone after threatening my life. To me, he was nothing more than a keyboard warrior. With a 'nothing to lose' attitude, I dialed his number again.

To my surprise, the call connected immediately this time. The person on the other end picked up without any hesitation.

The line was open, but I held back from speaking first.

I waited for him to break the silence. After a moment, he finally spoke up, "Mr. Zhang, what's your game?"

"Don't call me Mr. Zhang. You know who I am, use my full name," I replied coolly.

I had suspected that the one behind the evil spirits was an acquaintance of both Zhong Ling and me.

So, I cut to the chase without mincing words, confronting him about his identity—though I was still in the dark about who exactly he was.

This was simply a ploy to bluff him.

After laying out my challenge, I waited for his response.

He seemed baffled by my words for a few seconds before replying, "Mr. Zhang, what are you talking about? I don't follow."

"You've got my number, and you know I'm a Zhang. Drop the act. Why did you go after Zhong Ling?" I asked, maintaining an even tone.

His anger flared immediately after my inquiry. "I warned you to stay out of matters that don't concern you. Otherwise, watch your back," he threatened.

"If you were really capable, you wouldn't have bothered calling," I retorted.

He was at a loss for words after my comeback, struggling to find a response. Eventually, he offered, "Look, Mr. Zhang, let's make a deal. Whatever she's paying you, I'll double it."

"She's giving me half a million, so you're offering a million?" I threw out the figure on a whim.

Hearing this, he lapsed back into silence. I figured he was completely thrown off, probably never expecting me to claim that Zhong Ling had paid me such a sum.

After a pause, as if he'd made a decision, he clenched his teeth and said, "Here's the deal: give me the cursed object and the vessel, and I'll give you a million. But you have to promise not to meddle in this affair any further."

I was taken aback, not expecting him to actually agree to my terms and offer a million.

For a security guard like me, a million was an irresistible lure. Zhong Ling had paid me a mere ten thousand yuan—a pittance compared to a million. My breath grew heavy at the thought; a million was no trivial sum.

"Zhang Lia, if you're in, we'll meet tomorrow night."

"I..."

"Don't rush your answer. Take your time to think it over. But until then, you must cease any action against that cursed object."

He cut the call before I could respond, leaving me to ponder. He hadn't used my surname before hanging up; he'd used my full name. If I wasn't mistaken, that confirmed my suspicion: the caller was indeed someone Zhong Ling and I both knew.

Doubts still nagged at me. Why target Zhong Ling? And when I broached the subject of relocating the grave with her father, he was visibly resistant.

It made sense, to some extent. In our culture, ancestral burial sites are sacred. Zhong Ling's father's reluctance to disturb the grave was understandable.

Yet, considering Zhong Ling had mentioned her father was aware of her recent eerie encounters, and that Grandpa Zhong's grave was chosen by a geomancer hired by her father, I couldn't help but sense something amiss with Zhong Ling's father.

Despite racking my brain, I couldn't come to any conclusion. An uneasy feeling lingered.

My house was tiny, with hardly any room to spare. So, I spent most of my time lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

I was deep in thought when suddenly, my stomach began to growl loudly.

It hit me then—I hadn’t really eaten all day.

Rolling out of bed, I glanced at my phone: 8 pm, the perfect time for dinner.

Heading out, I didn’t forget to grab the jar used for nurturing malevolent spirits.

I hadn’t bothered to soak it in the blood glutinous rice.

That jar was now worth a cool million—a fortune I couldn't dream of earning in a decade.

Education was never my strong suit; I'm just a lowly security guard, pulling in a meager 3,000 to 4,000 RMB monthly.

Comparing my salary to a million RMB, the difference was clear as day.

I mulled over the idea that with a simple nod, by handing over the malevolent object and jar tomorrow night, I could transform into a tycoon.

With a million RMB, I could afford a house, a car, and skip years of toil.

Passing a street vendor, I stopped for a plate of egg fried rice and a few skewers, then sat down to eat.

As I ate, my mind kept returning to the million yuan dilemma.

But if I took the money, what would happen to Zhong Ling?

After finishing my meal and paying twenty yuan, I headed back home. I still didn’t immerse the spirit-nurturing jar in the blood glutinous rice.

Deep down, I knew the reason: I desperately wanted that million.

Lying in bed, I wrestled with the decision. I never imagined that I, Zhang Lia, would be faced with such a staggering choice.

Lost in these thoughts, my phone jolted me with its ring—a shiver ran through me. Regaining my composure, I saw it was Zhong Ling calling.

It was nearly ten o'clock. What could Zhong Ling want at this hour?

After a moment's hesitation, I answered the call.

"Zhong Ling, do you need anything else?"

"Yes, Mr. Security Guard, there's something important I need to discuss with you." Zhong Ling's voice carried a hint of dejection.

Hearing her tone, my face slowly shifted with concern. I couldn't help but wonder, 'Does Zhong Ling already know about this situation?'