Li Heng kindly reassured him.
Hanged ghosts, green-faced spirits, drowning ghosts, lecherous ghosts, wronged ghosts, big-headed ghosts… they were already ghosts — how could they die of anger again?
“Out of the mouths of babes—don’t mind her, she doesn’t know any better.” Shen Zhicheng swept the pomelo leaves over her again. “Great spirits have great tolerance.”
Li Heng raised an eyebrow at him.
So the Shen family heir, who feared nothing in the world, was afraid of ghosts.
After finishing the ritual, Shen Zhicheng emphasized: “When you get home later, remember to wash these clothes—don’t bring any yin energy back with you.”
He paused, then added: “And remind me before we leave to ask the caretaker to burn some extra incense.”
His tone was so serious.
Cemeteries were supposed to be somber places. For Li Heng, that was about respect for the departed—not like Shen Zhicheng, who was terrified of offending wandering spirits and having them come after her.
But this was also the first time someone had so seriously stood in front of her, every word and action a genuine act of protection.
“I know.” Shen Zhicheng turned around. “Living people can’t receive incense offerings, you know? The reason you’ve been so unlucky all this time is because you absorbed over twenty years’ worth of incense smoke. That won’t happen anymore.”
“Actually, I haven’t been that unlucky.”
Li Heng’s tone was calm. She had always been strong enough to carry everything on her own—she never needed to pity herself.
But Shen Zhicheng’s heart sank a little. Over twenty years apart, her life had been condensed into just a few pages of paper. She didn’t think she’d had it hard—but he could see it clearly. They had both lost their parents young, and each had their own share of hardship—but at least he had never known material want. Compared to him, she had it so much harder.
After leaving the cemetery, Shen Zhicheng drove her through the bustling streets.
When he spoke again, his tone was as casual as if he were discussing what to have for dinner.
“Five gold shops in Central and Causeway Bay—three for you, two for me.”
“Two streets of shopfronts in Tsim Sha Tsui—split evenly.”
“Residential properties in Yau Ma Tei and Prince Edward—I can’t remember exactly how many buildings, but they’re all collecting rent—half for you.”
“The hotel in Taipa—you should go take a look and pick which location you want.”
“Other things I can’t think of right now. Let’s set up a meeting with Senior Counsel Yim, and we’ll go to the law firm together.”
Shen Zhicheng had thought countless times—if that accident had never happened, if the two siblings had grown up together, they’d probably be like other kids, childishly divvying up sweets.
And at this moment, he was still like a child, offering her half of everything he had.
Li Heng listened quietly, until only astonishment remained: “You… have that much money?”
“We.” At that, Shen Zhicheng suddenly remembered something. “Damn—I forgot to ask the caretaker to burn incense.”
…
The music box was still on Shen Zhicheng’s mind.
He vaguely understood—that day in Cheung Sha Wan, Li Heng must have glimpsed the repair receipt in his hand, and that was why she’d gone to Tai Lung Electrical to retrieve it. The music box had originally belonged to their parents—it was only natural that it now belonged to Li Heng.
Still, he wanted to fix it with his own hands.
To find the right parts, Shen Zhicheng had searched several streets before finally getting a lead—that an old shop on the antique street in Sai Wan might have a compatible cylinder.
If DNA could match, then a mere music box could certainly be fixed too.
Li Heng glanced at the time: “I need to get back to work.”
Shen Zhicheng shot her a look: “You’re the boss now—you don’t even have the freedom to move around on your own?”
“No,” Li Heng answered flatly.
The same reverse-psychology trick that worked every time on Shen Zhicheng had no effect on Li Heng.
He could only coax and cajole, even using the parents’ keepsake as emotional leverage to get her to relent.
Li Heng made a call to the station, saying she had some personal matters to handle and would take a detour for fieldwork on the way.
As the head of Team A, with the case just closed, things were indeed quieter—she could afford an afternoon off.
“Lead the way,” Shen Zhicheng said.
He pulled out a scrap of paper with an address from his pocket: “It’s an old shop—doesn’t even have a name.”
He said he wanted her to lead, but Shen Zhicheng had already done his homework. When they reached Sai Wan, the alleys branched off in every direction. He wound through them, getting them thoroughly turned around, until they finally found the narrow lane lined with old shops.
“That one,” Li Heng said, scanning the area. “The only one without a sign.”
They walked into a musty shopfront midway down the lane.
It wasn’t really a shop—there were no shelves inside. The owner was sitting at the doorway, cracking sunflower seeds.
When they asked about the music box cylinder, the owner spat out the shell: “Music box? I don’t know. The stuff’s all in there—go dig through it yourselves.”
The room was piled high with odds and ends.
Broken pocket watches that no longer worked, rusty, dented Ultraman toys, ancient rice cooker liners…
“This stuff—people actually want this?” Shen Zhicheng couldn’t help asking.
“You young folks don’t understand,” the owner craned his neck for a look. “A new rice cooker costs a fortune. Replacing just the inner pot is only a few bucks.”
“You understand this?” Shen Zhicheng asked.
Li Heng responded: “Of course.”
The owner laughed at that—young and cocky, couldn’t take a little comment.
They moved further in. Against the wall were stacks of cardboard boxes, some flattened, some cut open, piled high.
Li Heng stepped around the larger items and crouched down in front of a pile of small parts.
Shen Zhicheng crouched down too and started searching.
“They said that music box—Mom and Dad picked it up on their honeymoon, carried it all the way across the ocean to bring it home.”
“Whenever the music box played, both of us would turn our heads toward the sound.”
Li Heng’s voice softened too: “I wonder which of us found it first.”
“We found it together.” A hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Shen Zhicheng’s mouth. “Real siblings have that connection.”
Li Heng lifted layers of cardboard and waved away the dust in the air.
The pampered rich kid coughed a few times, using his fingertips to sift through a pile of odds and ends, searching carefully.
They picked one up and put it down, picked up another and put it down.
Li Heng’s gaze suddenly stopped—on his profile.
She remembered that dream from the other night—in the dim attic, a motionless figure lying on the floor.
That dream spanned too much time. If the music box, the glass globe, and the car accident were all real—then Shen Zhicheng dying in that attic—would that happen too?
Li Heng’s heart sank as she tried to recall the clues from the dream.
“Come look at this.”
The dream had been interrupted by his relentless barrage of phone calls. And at this moment, her tangled thoughts were interrupted by his new discovery.
The Shen Zhicheng before her was still alive—right in front of her.
“Shen Zhicheng—has anyone ever told you that you’re really loud?”
“Now they have.” He held up a small curved cylinder. “Look—I found it.”
The secondhand shop owner was very easygoing, waving his hand and saying to just give whatever—these old junk weren’t worth much anyway.
Shen Zhicheng was even more generous. He pulled out a large bill and casually handed it over.
The owner’s face lit up with delight. Before they left, he even shoved an inner pot into their hands, saying it was on the house.
Shen Zhicheng took it without hesitation.
He handed the inner pot to Li Heng.
She held it in her arms, bewildered: “Are you short on rice cooker inserts at home?”
“Keep it as a souvenir.”
These past few days, everything had happened too fast—like an unreal dream.
Shen Zhicheng suddenly felt that all good things were worth commemorating.
And that music box part—he clutched it tightly in his hand.
Shen Zhicheng searched around the car for a long time, unable to find anywhere that felt safe enough to keep it, his expression full of care.
No one knew why it meant so much to him.
On countless nights when no one was there to sing him to sleep, the gentle melody of the music box had been his companion. It was as if his family were still there, humming nursery rhymes softly in his ear, helping him endure the long nights until he grew up.
That melody had never been just an ordinary sound to him.
Just as he was about to close the center console, Li Heng’s gaze swept over a half-folded piece of paper tucked inside.
Shen Zhicheng immediately snapped it shut: “Citizens have a right to privacy!”
It was a police force application form—he instinctively didn’t want her to know too soon.
They were the same age, yet his sister had become a police inspector while he was still idle and aimless. If he submitted the form and ultimately failed, it would be embarrassing.
“Application form.” Li Heng had only caught the last few words. “You’re going to—”
“I’m not…”
If her tone had been deliberately provoking, Shen Zhicheng could have exploded on the spot.
But it wasn’t—on the contrary, there was a glint of sudden realization in her eyes.
“You’re going to compete for Mr. Hong Kong?”
At that, he shot her a glare.
This was only their second meeting since they’d acknowledged each other as siblings. Shen Zhicheng still felt a sense of wonder.
As the car pulled up at the entrance of the West Kowloon Regional Headquarters and he watched Li Heng’s retreating figure, a warmth suddenly rose in his heart.
In just a few short days, he’d gained a sister out of nowhere.
They were twins—as if they were naturally meant to be closer. The feeling was both deeply unfamiliar and profoundly solid.
When Li Heng’s figure disappeared from sight, Shen Zhicheng picked up the application form again.
All his life, everyone had said he was the Shen family heir who couldn’t be saved—uneducated, good for nothing. He’d never cared—in fact, he’d intentionally acted even more recklessly, more absurdly, as if challenging everyone to see just how much worse Shen Zhicheng could get, rotten to the core.
But this time was different.
For the first time, he genuinely wanted to accomplish something—to prove himself.
…
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