Chapter 179: Ghost Assistant (XI)

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Chapter 179: Ghost Assistant (XI)

Shang Ke decided to draw up a Talisman Compendium. As long as he did not use special materials or infuse the designs with magical power, the talismans would have no effect, so he could sketch them freely.

Next, Shang Ke planned to teach Shao Feidu a basic cultivation method. Spiritual qi was thin in this world, so even someone extraordinarily talented could cultivate only a small amount of true qi. That little, however, would be enough to empower talismans and deal with ghosts.

With Shao Feidu’s unusual constitution, cultivating true qi should not be difficult. Qi cultivation could strengthen his body and ward off evil influences, making it highly beneficial for him. Shang Ke had no intention of forcing him to become a Celestial Master; as long as Shao Feidu could make the talismans, Shang Ke would find a way to use them.

Shao Feidu’s daily routine changed again. During the day, he composed music; at night, he cultivated. To help him develop true qi more quickly, Shang Ke often spoke with wandering ghosts and asked them to look for spiritually charged objects.

And so Shao Feidu began a glorious life of minor supplementation every three days and major supplementation every five. Every day he was brimming with vitality, blood and qi flourishing, with more energy than he knew how to spend.

Some of that energy went into composing music. His style gradually shifted from graceful and ethereal to bold and passionate.

As for the rest of that energy, naturally it was devoted to his Keke…

Previously, Shang Ke’s physical body had been enough to shield him from Shao Feidu’s yang energy. Once Shao Feidu began cultivating, however, that refined pure-yang qi seemed capable of penetrating straight into Shang Ke’s soul, becoming rather difficult for him to endure.

Shang Ke decided he had better cultivate too and strengthen his own ghost energy, lest his man accidentally refine him into dregs one day in the middle of sex.

Just as the two were enjoying their harmonious little life without a care for the outside world, the Shao family suddenly sent representatives over. On one hand, they intended to arrange new attendants for Shao Feidu; on the other, they had come to inform them that Mu Zhen’s trial was about to begin.

The Shao family undoubtedly knew Shang Ke and Shao Feidu were living together, and apparently approved. Otherwise they would not have waited this long to send anyone over.

Their courteous attitude toward Shang Ke made their intentions even clearer: they were very willing to strengthen ties between the two families. To them, Shao Feidu was little more than an expendable chess piece. They paid attention to him only when family interests or reputation were involved.

From the moment they entered the villa, the Shao family representatives showed Shao Feidu neither sufficient respect nor genuine concern. Their attention remained fixed on Shang Ke, the Yun family’s young master, as they repeatedly sounded him out about whether he planned to become engaged soon.

Shang Ke told them plainly, “It’s almost the end of the year. If nothing unexpected happens, I plan to get engaged next spring.”

Satisfied, the Shao representatives left, calmly entrusting Shao Feidu to Shang Ke as though that settled everything.

Shao Feidu remained expressionless throughout, seemingly uninterested in everything around him. Shang Ke knew better. Certain words had lodged firmly in his heart.

Shang Ke held his face and said warmly, “Dudu, I will let everyone know just how outstanding you are one day.”

There was no need to hurt over people who looked down on you, used you, or harmed you. The brighter you became, the more insignificant they would look beside you.

Mu Zhen’s trial was scheduled for five days later. Before then, Shang Ke received word from a ghost that Mu Zhen had contacted reporters and planned to give a public interview before the hearing.

Because the case was financial in nature, Mu Zhen still had a certain degree of freedom and was out on bail. His years of influence in the industry, combined with Shao Feidu’s family background and status in the music world, quickly drew a large media crowd.

Mu Zhen’s bad luck had begun the moment a ghost frightened him into falling from the second floor. First he broke his leg. Then, after only a few days in the hospital, he received a lawyer’s letter accusing him of abusing his position to embezzle his employer’s property, and the police opened an investigation.

The attorney Shao Feidu had hired was shrewd. His first move was to inform the Shao family. Shao Feidu might not have been valued by his relatives, but given the Shao family’s position and his status as their eldest young master, they could not possibly ignore a scandal like this.

Once the Shao family intervened, Mu Zhen had no room to fight back. He had diverted billions in funds. The amount was not enough to earn a life sentence, but seven or eight years in prison was virtually guaranteed. Several transfers carried Shao Feidu’s signature, and Mu Zhen had disguised much of the activity as financial management, so the amount that could be formally charged was far lower than what he had actually taken. Under the applicable sentencing range, the maximum prison term was under eight years.

The case involved the Shao family, one of the four great families, and they wanted it handled quietly. After all, having their own eldest young master manipulated by a mere manager was hardly flattering. Cornered and desperate, however, Mu Zhen decided to gamble everything by revealing Shao Feidu’s condition to the public.

“I’ve taken care of Young Master Shao since he was thirteen. We’ve always been very close. He is the Shao family’s eldest son and should originally have inherited the family, but do you know why they handed him over to me? Because he showed autistic symptoms from childhood and, apart from music, had virtually no ability to manage daily life on his own. He was removed from the succession early. For more than ten years, every cent of his living expenses came from his music. The Shao family never gave him a penny.” Mu Zhen looked desolate as he addressed the media.

The revelation stunned everyone. The public had always assumed Shao Feidu voluntarily gave up his inheritance because he was obsessed with music. No one had imagined that he had shown autistic traits from childhood, been effectively abandoned by his family in his early teens, and forced to live independently.

Looking back, Young Master Shao had never accepted interviews or appeared on promotional variety programs. Aside from publicity photographs connected to performances, he kept an exceptionally low profile. People had always assumed it was simply the aloof pride of the Shao family’s eldest young master and thought nothing of it.

The truth, however, overturned everyone’s assumptions. No one thought Mu Zhen would dare fabricate something so easily verified.

“I’m not trying to excuse myself. But without me taking care of him all these years, Young Master Shao’s life would probably have been miserable.” Mu Zhen spoke with apparent sincerity. “Yes, I did use some of Young Master Shao’s money, but it was all for investments. Composing music, performances, wardrobe, publicity, networking—every part of a career requires enormous funding. His current income is good, but no one knows when his condition might worsen. If he loses the one talent he has left, how is he supposed to live afterward?”

Mu Zhen spoke with such earnest feeling that quite a few people were moved.

“Unfortunately,” Mu Zhen continued with a bitter smile, “several of my investments failed. Instead of earning more, I lost a great deal. I wronged Young Master Shao, and being sued is the consequence I deserve. But I am certain Young Master Shao himself did not initiate this case. Given his mental condition, he simply could not have sued me. As for who wants to drive me away from his side, or why, I have no idea. I only hope he can live well. We spent more than ten years together, supporting each other through all kinds of hardship. To me, he is family.”

By the end, Mu Zhen had lowered his head and begun to sob. He cast himself as a pitiable man who had devoted himself entirely to Shao Feidu only to be ruined by bad luck, repeatedly emphasizing their bond and hinting that someone else was scheming against him. The performance earned him a great deal of sympathy.

Gibbs chimed in repeatedly to support Mu Zhen’s story. He had been blacklisted by the Shao family because of the scandal, so he had simply chosen to collude with Mu Zhen: smear the Shaos first, then flee overseas.

After hearing their account, many people’s impression of Mu Zhen shifted. Imaginations immediately ran wild—feuds among wealthy families, battles for power and profit, outsiders usurping what belonged to others… one theory after another appeared.

If the story were embellished and spread through the media, Mu Zhen might very well succeed in whitewashing himself. He had cared for Shao Feidu for more than ten years and supposedly allowed him to devote himself entirely to music. By contrast, the Shao family had treated their eldest son with extraordinary coldness, then, for some unknown reason, used Shao Feidu’s name to drive away the man who had remained beside him for a decade.

Billions were an astronomical fortune to ordinary people, but not an impossible sum for a family as wealthy as the Shaos. Yet for all these years they had never paid a cent toward Shao Feidu’s living expenses, making their stinginess and indifference painfully obvious. Now that they had driven Mu Zhen away, were they planning to seize the money for themselves?

“Mu Zhen, don’t you feel guilty saying all that?” Just as public opinion began drifting in Mu Zhen’s favor, a voice came from the entrance.

Everyone turned toward the sound and saw a handsome young man walking calmly toward them. Several stern-faced police officers followed behind him.

The reporters instantly sensed another dramatic turn. As though injected with pure adrenaline, every one of them swung their cameras toward the newcomer.

Shang Ke walked to the front. Under the gaze of the entire room, he remained perfectly composed, carrying himself with the calm assurance of someone accustomed to being taken seriously.

“Who are you?” Gibbs demanded.

Shang Ke ignored him and simply signaled for the police behind him to make the arrests.

“What are you doing?” Mu Zhen shouted furiously. “I’m still out on bail! You have no right to arrest me!”

“Mr. Mu, you are suspected of intentional harm to another person and embezzlement. We need you to return to the police station and assist with the investigation. Please cooperate.”

“Intentional harm? When did I ever harm anyone?” Mu Zhen shouted while struggling.

The reporters immediately crowded around them, firing questions from every direction.

“Wasn’t Mr. Mu originally charged with misappropriating Mr. Shao’s funds?”

“What does ‘intentional harm’ refer to? Can you explain?”

“Is the Shao family accusing Mr. Mu because they’re afraid he’ll reveal the truth to the media?”

Question followed question, and the scene was on the verge of spinning out of control.

Shang Ke picked up the microphone and raised his voice. “Everyone, please don’t make things difficult for the officers. They’re only doing their jobs. If you have questions, ask me.”

The reporters were still inclined to believe Mu Zhen. They did not immediately disperse, but simply redirected their barrage toward Shang Ke.

Shang Ke remained perfectly composed beneath the barrage of questions. After signaling for quiet, he said, “First, I need to clarify one point. Mr. Shao is not autistic. He only exhibited some autistic tendencies. Mu Zhen lied about that.”

The crowd watched him skeptically, waiting for what came next.

“The reason his condition never improved is that Mu Zhen was secretly giving him improperly prescribed medication.” Shang Ke took several medicine bottles from his pocket and held the labels up for everyone to see. Anyone with even a little pharmaceutical knowledge could identify the drugs. Long-term use could cause depression, hallucinations, cognitive and psychiatric disturbances, and other serious side effects.

Shock spread across the room. Mu Zhen had actually drugged Shao Feidu? So the condition everyone had called autism was not entirely innate, but had been deliberately worsened? The sheer shamelessness of it was horrifying.

“That’s slander!” Red-faced, Mu Zhen jabbed a finger at Shang Ke. “I never gave Young Master Shao drugs like that!”

“Dr. Xu, the man who prescribed those drugs for you, is already at the police station. Whether I’m slandering you will become clear soon enough.” As he spoke, Shang Ke’s gaze settled behind Mu Zhen. A hideous evil ghost clung to his back with both hands covering his eyes, clouding his judgment and driving him into an emotional blind spot—the phenomenon traditionally described as being “ghost-blinded.”

The reporters’ uncertain gazes moved back and forth between Mu Zhen and Shang Ke. One was frantic and furious; the other remained completely composed. To any objective observer, Shang Ke looked far more credible.

If that was true, then Mu Zhen had not only drugged a man who trusted him in order to control him and seize his property, but had also tried to reverse black and white and manipulate the public. The more pitiful he had made himself sound earlier, the more revolting he now appeared. Shao Feidu was renowned throughout the music world, with fans across the globe. Though he had not performed for two or three years, every piece he composed was considered a classic. Who would have imagined that the revered King of Piano, vulnerable because of his psychological difficulties, had first been neglected by his family and then exploited and harmed by his own manager?

In moments, the reporters had mentally constructed an entire tragic history of suffering, and the looks they aimed at Mu Zhen filled with anger.

Seeing that the situation had stabilized, Shang Ke turned politely to the police. “I’ll leave the rest to you.”

“It’s our duty.” The officer nodded and looked toward the reporters surrounding them.

“No! I never drugged him! This is a setup!” Mu Zhen continued to struggle and shout even after the situation had become hopeless.

But by then, no one believed him.

The reporters slowly opened a path for the police, raising their microphones as they continued shouting questions at Mu Zhen.

One reporter near the front was shoved from behind and nearly jammed his microphone into Mu Zhen’s face, barely pulling it away in time.

At that exact moment, Mu Zhen suddenly tore free of the officers, snatched the microphone, and swung it at the reporter, smashing a dark bruise into his forehead.

“What are you doing?!” The officers immediately restrained him—but it was already too late.

The reporters were already worked up. The attack sent the entire room into chaos. Microphones began raining down on Mu Zhen like grenades, and the unfortunate police officers were caught in the crossfire as well.

Shang Ke glanced speechlessly at the malevolent ghost on Mu Zhen’s back, who was smiling so widely that the corner of its lips cracked, and quietly left the venue.

Several reporters stayed out of the brawl. They were much more interested in the mysterious Shang Ke who had appeared from nowhere, and the moment he left, they hurried after him.

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