Chapter 58: The Actress Who Raised a Kuman Thong

The little ghost scratched her head and replied, "That sister smells so nice." Her reason made me laugh and cry at the same time. I ruffled her hair and said nothing more. Luo Feng, beside us, teased, "Her name is Wang Yazhuo. She's Wang Jianming's granddaughter. What do you think? Pretty, isn't she?"

I remembered the name. To be honest, Wang Yazhuo was indeed beautiful. I asked Luo Feng if he was interested in her, but he shook his head, saying she was out of his league. When I pressed him for the reason, he explained that Wang Yazhuo was Wang Jianming's only granddaughter. The Wang family was vast and powerful, counted among the wealthiest of the older generation.

Whether in the underworld or among business circles, everyone wanted to marry Wang Yazhuo—not only for her beauty but, more importantly, to curry favor with Wang Jianming. Wang Jianming was rumored to deal drugs in secret, something only those in the underworld knew. The police supposedly had leads but lacked evidence, so they could do nothing against him.

Like most organized crime groups, Wang Jianming had begun legitimate businesses to launder his reputation, rarely dealing drugs in recent years—one reason why the authorities couldn't touch him. But whenever he did get involved, the scale was enormous and the sums astronomical.

Luo Feng, being a major figure in the port district syndicate, understood these matters well, and I had no reason to doubt him. Because of the nature of drug crimes, Wang Jianming had his own network. Luo Feng said Wang Jianming's informants were spread throughout the country, reaching a terrifying extent. That was why Luo Feng brought me to him—to try and find clues about Xuan Yi and Xiao Mei.

"A few years ago, many came to Wang Jianming's house seeking marriage, but lately, no one brings it up," Luo Feng said.

I was curious and asked why. Luo Feng replied that Wang Yazhuo was too headstrong. She often left her suitors in shambles, had even crippled some and sent them to the hospital. But Wang Jianming loved his only granddaughter dearly, so those men could only swallow their grievances, wary of his power.

Soon, Wang Yazhuo's reputation spread; no one dared approach her anymore. Thinking back to my recent meeting with her, I found her playful but not nearly as wild as the rumors suggested. I voiced my doubts, and Luo Feng frowned, admitting that Wang Yazhuo did seem different today.

But the little ghost tugged at my sleeve. "Brother Fang Han, Sister Yazhuo is a good person."

I couldn't help but laugh. The little ghost was already calling Wang Yazhuo so affectionately.

Luo Feng had given Wang Yazhuo all the details about Xuan Yi and Xiao Mei. He told me we only needed to wait for news now. I wasn't anxious; we truly had no other options.

As we passed a newsstand, I noticed a crowd gathered, chattering animatedly about something. Curious, we approached and picked up a newspaper. It turned out everyone was discussing a report about a famous actress. The actress, called Z, was young, had starred in many films, and hailed from the port district. That year, she and a famous actor had voiced an animated movie, earning them the title of golden couple in the entertainment world.

Luo Feng had never cared much for celebrity gossip. He was about to leave when I stopped him, pointing to a few small characters at the bottom of the page: "Kuman Thong." The entire page brimmed with Z's glamorous image, but those three words were oddly out of place.

Reading further, I realized the newspaper mentioned a rumor about Z, saying that according to insiders, she kept a Kuman Thong. I knew a little about Kuman Thong; Luo Feng was unfamiliar and asked me what it was.

Instead of answering, I pointed to the crowd at the newsstand, and we listened carefully. Luo Feng was surprised to hear that, in common parlance, Kuman Thong was simply a little ghost. That was how most people understood it, but in truth, there was a fundamental difference.

The legend of Kuman Thong originates in Southeast Asia. Stories of little ghosts, however, exist both domestically and abroad. In Southeast Asia, Kuman Thong is a sacred object, crafted from various materials to resemble a child. It is said that a sorcerer or monk would consecrate the soul of a child who died unexpectedly, placing it within the doll, thus creating the Kuman Thong.

The object is revered because the soul inside is naturally kind, willingly inhabiting the doll, and is believed to bless its keeper with safety and prosperity. The little ghost, by contrast, is said to be the soul of a child forcibly imprisoned by a sorcerer’s spells, or by those who know how to raise such spirits, for personal gain or harm. Because the soul is trapped against its will, resentment festers. The keeper must feed the spirit with their own blood or essence, and many are said to be devoured in turn, left hollow and ruined.

But as time passed, more and more people have conflated Kuman Thong with the little ghost. To ordinary folk, they are both seen as sinister spirits, and the distinction hardly matters.

We replaced the newspaper and walked on. The little ghost, holding my hand, told me with a sigh that she wasn't so bad. I paused—she thought we were talking about her. Luo Feng laughed, saying it was all just superstition.

The paper reporting on Kuman Thong belonged to a fringe publication. Both Luo Feng and I knew it would soon be censored; such reports were not allowed on the mainland.

Neither of us believed in these tales, and we thought nothing more of the incident—until two nights later, when I received a call from Chen Fan.

Chen Fan told me that after returning, he was commended, promoted, and transferred to a squad, with everyone saying he was qualified to become captain or vice-captain.

In truth, I knew what was on Chen Fan’s mind. Because of my connection to Luo Feng, Chen Fan preferred not to deal with me unless he was stuck on something. Sure enough, after I guessed as much, he admitted that a disappearance had occurred in his jurisdiction. The police had searched for ages but found nothing.

I sneered, "So you want my help?"

Chen Fan replied, "Han, I really can't find the person. You're so skilled—you must be able to figure out where the missing person is."

I cursed, "You think I'm a fortune teller? That I can divine their whereabouts with a snap of my fingers?"

I was about to hang up, but Chen Fan pleaded. He said the case was truly bizarre. He had just arrived at his new unit, and after everyone heard he’d solved a supernatural case in the port district, the task was given to him.

Chen Fan thought it would be easy, so he accepted. But after reviewing the files, he realized he’d been set up—the missing person had been gone for several days, and the rumors about his disappearance were linked to actress Z. Hearing her name, I decided not to hang up.

I asked Chen Fan to explain in detail. He grew excited, skipping the preliminaries.

Chen Fan had arrived at his new unit yesterday. Today, he went through the files and discovered the missing person was a Taoist priest. Both Chen Fan and I were now sensitive to such religious figures, since I was searching for Xuan Yi. The last sighting of the priest was just a few days ago.

On that day, the priest had gone to see actress Z.

Afterward, the people at the temple said he never returned. The police questioned Z, who said the priest parted from her, saying he was heading back to the temple, and then vanished. I knew Chen Fan wouldn’t come to me just for a missing person.

He continued, telling me that rumors claimed the priest was dead. I asked why such talk had arisen. Chen Fan soon mentioned three words I'd seen in the paper days before: Kuman Thong. Many said Z visited the temple every time she came to the capital to see the priest.

The priest, though not of high rank at the temple, was rumored to have studied with Southeast Asian monks years ago, learning how to imprison spirits and keep Kuman Thong. Each time Z sought him out, she was said to ask for his help in raising a Kuman Thong, hoping for luck in her acting career.

"So, do you believe it?" I asked.

Chen Fan replied, "Of course not. But when I checked on Z, I found something incredibly strange."

He had unearthed reports from the port district two years ago. Back then, Z was embroiled in a scandal—her secret boyfriend’s bedroom photos were leaked, and there were rumors she was seeing multiple men. Her career hit a low, and she had to move to the mainland for work.

At that time, Z developed a drinking problem, suffered from depression, reportedly dropped to under seventy pounds, and aged dramatically, looking years older overnight.

But after meeting the priest in the capital, Z soon became radiant again, her weight returned to normal, and she made a strong comeback. After two years of hard work, she rose to prominence once more.

"Han, I checked the media photos from that period—her appearance recovered in such a short time. It’s terrifying." Fang Han said, "That’s when the rumors about Z keeping little ghosts began."

As my call with Chen Fan continued, Luo Feng pushed open the door—he told me Wang Yazhuo had found a clue about Xuan Yi.

Luo Feng said that Xuan Yi had met someone a few days ago, and that person was the very same missing priest. Their meeting took place in an old country house, notorious for its haunting...