“轮回晷 represents the rising and setting of the sun. The black fish in the River of Forgetfulness only grows scales on one side, so only the elderly can borrow life from the young, never the other way around. Director Sullivan, perhaps you’ve misunderstood her, haven’t you?” Holly Harlow said, and as she spoke, she reached out into thin air. A slip of xuan paper with writing on it floated gently down into her palm. On it was Quinn Barnes’s name, followed by her birth date and time in small characters, and then two lines of blurry, illegible writing—one could barely make out that something had been altered.

Holly Harlow said, “The Underworld helped me check. Quinn Barnes’s birth and death years were indeed tampered with by someone—not to extend her life, but to shorten it.”

Logan Sullivan raised an eyebrow in mild surprise.

“轮回晷, 轮回晷, turn three times on the Stone of Three Lives: you give me half your life, I give you half of mine—not to live together, but to die together.” Holly Harlow said, “It means that if you have the sacred artifact of reincarnation, you can use half of your remaining lifespan to bring back someone who has already died, so that you live and die together from then on. Two years ago, when Quinn Barnes’s grandmother reached the end of her life, it must have been then that this young girl used half her own lifespan to bring her back.”

Logan Sullivan listened in silence.

“While you were away, I looked into her background. This Quinn Barnes is a local, but she never really lived here. She used to live with her grandmother elsewhere. I called the village official at Quinn Barnes’s original place of residence, and they told me that Quinn Barnes was raised by her grandmother as a child. Her parents were probably busy working away from home and rarely came back. She also has a younger brother. Back then, it was the height of the one-child policy, so her parents… well, you know what I mean?”

Logan Sullivan grunted in acknowledgment, so Holly Harlow continued, “The village official said that two years ago, the old lady had a sudden stroke. Everyone thought she wouldn’t make it, but somehow, she miraculously recovered. Still, she was left with some aftereffects and was later diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease—what people used to call senile dementia. I figure it was caused by nerve cell damage from the stroke. At first, she was just forgetful, but it got worse and worse. She couldn’t recognize people, and her mental faculties declined sharply. About half a year later, Quinn Barnes happened to get into graduate school here in the city, so her parents had no choice but to bring both the old lady and the child back with them.”

“So, the ‘life for a life’ exchange must have happened when Quinn Barnes’s grandmother was gravely ill.” Logan Sullivan flicked his cigarette ash. “She was living in her hometown then, and found some old family heirloom there. That makes sense—but I don’t see why this is so hard to talk about. Why would she lie to me about it?”

“Maybe there’s more to it,” Holly Harlow turned her chair around, resting her elbows on the armrests, and looked at Logan Sullivan with those vertical pupils of hers. On anyone else, those cold-blooded eyes would be terrifying, but on her, they somehow conveyed an unusual gentleness. She said, “Think about it. If there was someone in this world you loved so much that you’d give up half your life for them, but they never knew why, and then you lost them again right in front of you—how would that feel?”

Logan Sullivan frowned impassively, as if still hesitating inside.

Listening to such a heart-wrenching story, he didn’t feel moved at all. Instead, he was picking at the details, determined to find something fishy. Holly Harlow couldn’t even tell which of them was the real cold-blooded one anymore, and could only sigh softly.

Logan Sullivan shrugged. “Alright, Ms. Harlow, give me your advice.”

“Quinn Barnes often buys things online. I checked her purchase records—most of it is health supplements for the elderly. She doesn’t have much pocket money; most of it comes from tutoring and odd jobs for her advisor. Other girls her age are obsessed with beauty products, but she rarely buys anything for herself. Just for that, I think she’s a good kid. If it turns out she’s not involved in this case, and there are things she doesn’t want to talk about, just let it go. Don’t push her too hard, alright?”

Logan Sullivan: “Material things don’t prove anything. Sometimes, it’s precisely when there’s no affection left that people try to make up for it with material things…”

His words trailed off under Holly Harlow’s silent accusation of “you’re heartless and cold-blooded.”

“Fine,” Logan Sullivan said, “let’s assume, as you say, that she gave half her life to her grandmother. Why is it that now her grandmother is dead, but she’s still alive and well?”

“It could be that something unexpected happened, like the old lady dying before her allotted time was up,” Holly Harlow said. “Julian West sent me yesterday’s list of missing souls from the other side. I checked, and her name isn’t on it. She’s wandering outside, so maybe they don’t know yet over there. The old lady’s soul was tied to the living by the 轮回晷, so maybe that’s how she slipped past the underworld’s enforcers.”

Logan Sullivan thought for a moment. “Hmm…”

Holly Harlow asked, “What is it?”

“I just thought of something. I don’t know if you noticed, but Quinn Barnes and Rachel Lowry look very similar in build and hairstyle. From behind, a stranger could hardly tell them apart. And that day, they happened to be wearing the same clothes. Rachel Lowry died right after meeting Quinn Barnes—think about it, Quinn Barnes used the 轮回晷, so she must have the scent of a sacred underworld artifact on her. If she really could evade the underworld’s enforcers, maybe the escaped…”

“You mean the starving ghost’s real target was Quinn Barnes!”

Chapter 13: 轮回晷 Twelve …

Logan Sullivan stubbed out his cigarette and quickly pulled out his phone. “It’s getting dark. I only left a little rookie over there. No, I have to go check it out myself.”

Holly Harlow: “The intern who fainted as soon as he arrived?”

Logan Sullivan shot her a very exasperated look. “By the way, where’s the invitation from the Soulwarden? Give it to me.”

Holly Harlow nodded toward the corner of the desk with her chin, but didn’t dare touch it.

It was a stack of pitch-black booklets, the covers jet black, with “孤魂贴拜上，令主亲启” written in cinnabar. Inside, the fine satin pages began with a few flowery, irrelevant pleasantries, then briefly mentioned the starving ghost’s escape, and finally stated, “Tonight at midnight, I will come to pay my respects. Please forgive any disturbance.”

The entire thing was written in neat, slender calligraphy, almost worthy of being called art.

As soon as Logan Sullivan opened the invitation, Holly Harlow immediately scooted her chair away in fear.

This Soulwarden was a being neither god nor ghost. Some say he’s a ghost immortal, but not quite. Legend has it he was formed from the deepest baleful energy and fierce wind in the Nine Netherworlds, born ominous, blood-red aura soaring to the sky, but protected by the fierce wind, transforming into the Soulcleaver. According to the old operas, it can “discern good from evil, loyalty from treachery.” Because of this blade, he later became known as the “Soulwarden.”

From the thirty-three heavens above to the eighteen hells below, gods, humans, and spirits—any soul with a cause can be cut down by his blade.

Maybe that’s why everyone fears him—everyone except Logan Sullivan. He figured he was just thick-skinned and a bit slow, so he never found Soulwarden all that scary. In fact, he thought the guy was refined and decent… His only flaw was that he always spoke and wrote in a flowery, archaic style, a bit too literary, and tended to ramble.

Noticing Holly Harlow’s discomfort, he skimmed through the invitation at lightning speed and stuffed the “孤魂贴” into his bag. “If you’re free, just go home. The night shift can hand things over to Zach Warren. You don’t have legs these days—just hitting the brakes could make you slip off. It’s inconvenient to go anywhere. After work, don’t go out partying. Get some rest—oh, and before you leave, contact Julian West for me. If there’s nothing urgent ‘over there,’ tell him to hurry back. Don’t get too comfortable in the underworld—what’s so fun about hanging around there?”

As soon as Holly Harlow heard she didn’t have to face a certain someone, she immediately nodded in relief.

“I’m off.” Logan Sullivan strode out while dialing Charles Gray’s number.

As soon as Charles Gray realized it was his boss on the other end, he instinctively snapped to attention.

“Why did it take you so long to answer?” Logan Sullivan sounded a bit worried. “Nothing happened, right?”

Charles Gray’s tongue started to tie itself in knots—strangely enough, after the whole morning, he could now speak like a normal person in front of the mild-mannered Logan Sullivan, but as soon as he heard his boss’s voice on the phone, his courage shrank to nothing.

Was it because the boss’s voice sounded colder over the phone?

Charles Gray’s breathing grew more and more rapid. Logan Sullivan was starting to worry he’d give the guy a heart attack just by calling. Seeing Charles Gray stammering and almost out of breath, Director Sullivan could only sigh. “Is there anyone else around you? If so, give them the phone. If not, hand it to Darrin Grant.”

Charles Gray breathed a sigh of relief and silently handed the phone to William Sherman.

Thankfully, Professor Sherman was reliable. In just a few words, he explained how they’d taken Quinn Barnes to the hospital, which hospital, and which ward. Finally, he asked, “So, about Quinn Barnes’s situation…”