The True Blood Returns

Chapter 9 - The Fortune-Stealing Talisman

Mrs. Walsh had not realized the meaning of Mrs. Holton and Miss Holton's words at first, but now, with a reasonable excuse to deflect the accusation, she quickly latched onto it.

Sure enough, as soon as she spoke, Oliver Fairmont, hearing there was prior context to the matter, looked at Eleanor Holton with clear distaste.

"You’re such a small-minded person. Mrs. Walsh didn’t do anything to you—why make a fuss? You’ve only just come back, and you're already causing trouble..."

Before he could finish the insult, a cold, distant voice, imbued with some pressure, came from beside him, a single phrase that stopped him in his tracks.

"Oliver Fairmont."

With just those two words, Oliver immediately bit his tongue, glancing at his older cousin, whose smile had turned cold, a sign to back off. He shrank back, his dissatisfaction with Eleanor undiminished.

Mrs. Walsh, bolstered by Oliver’s defense, stood taller, her face now full of indignation and feigned victimhood.

"If the young lady doesn’t trust me, you can search my room! I live honorably, with no fear of a search! While I may be a servant, I won’t let anyone wrongfully accuse me!"

The commotion had drawn the attention of the house staff, who stood at a distance, unwilling to approach. From their vantage point, they overheard parts of the conversation, and a seed of doubt was planted in their minds about the returning young lady. They had heard she was raised in a wealthy family and had received proper education, yet here she was acting aloof, as if looking down on them, the maids and servants.

None of them were particularly fond of being looked down upon, and their impression of Eleanor was growing less favorable by the moment.

Charles Fairmont, noticing the subtle change in the servants' attitude, was about to intervene to stop the "scene" when Eleanor finally spoke again, her voice calm and unwavering.

"When did I say she stole money?"

The statement stunned everyone into silence.

Oliver Fairmont was the first to speak, unable to hold back his incredulity, "You just said Mrs. Walsh stole money! Now you’re denying it?"

Eleanor gave him a glance, her gaze cool and dismissive. "I said she stole the Fairmont family’s fortune."

Stealing money? That was something Mrs. Walsh had said. Whether it was intentional or accidental, she had misled the others with her words.

"Stealing the fortune and stealing money are two different things."

At least, you wouldn’t find physical cash to take.

It was a game of semantics, but with enough mystique, it had allowed Mrs. Walsh to boldly suggest a search without suspicion.

Oliver Fairmont, confused, muttered, "How can you steal a fortune? Stop spouting nonsense—this is all just to scare people."

Alexander Fairmont, who had been silently observing, gave Oliver a side glance. The warning was obvious.

Even if Eleanor was just bluffing, what of it? She was of sufficient standing to make such a claim, and if her attitude was so calm, it made Alexander wonder if there might be some truth to her words.

In their high society, some members had a certain respect for metaphysical practices, and the Fairmont family even knew a few Feng Shui masters. But Eleanor... she was only eighteen. Could she really know all this?

Before Alexander could fully process his doubts, Eleanor turned her attention back to Mrs. Walsh, suddenly pointing to a specific spot.

"What did you bury over there?"

She pointed to a flowerbed in the corner of the garden, the very spot where Mrs. Walsh had earlier distractedly looked.

Mrs. Walsh, who had already been uneasy, froze when she saw Eleanor's finger indicating the exact spot. Her heart skipped a beat, and cold sweat beaded on her forehead.

No... no way. How did she know?

Charles Fairmont, noticing Mrs. Walsh's reaction, already had his suspicions. He motioned to the butler nearby. "Go."

The butler, who had been curious, immediately followed the gesture, stepping toward the area Eleanor had pointed out.

The others, curious, followed him, while Oliver Fairmont watched with a skeptical expression, waiting to see what she could possibly uncover.

The butler quickly got to work, kneeling by the flowerbed with a small shovel and starting to dig. It didn’t take long before he struck something hidden beneath the soil, and as he dug it out, his eyes lit up.

"I found something!"

As he spoke, he carefully unwrapped the plastic covering, and the smell that wafted out was enough to make everyone recoil in disgust.

The butler tried to suppress his nausea but continued with his task. Just as his hand was about to touch the paper package inside, Eleanor's voice rang out.

"Don’t touch it."

The crowd turned to see Eleanor step forward, pulling a yellow talisman from her sleeve and placing it onto the package.

The moment the talisman touched the package, the paper seemed to age and darken, as if it were withering away.

The butler, pausing, looked at Eleanor for a moment before nodding and carefully, with gloved hands, opened the package.

Inside, they found a sheet of red paper—a kind of common temple paper used for birthdate fortune-telling—but this one was eerily scrawled with what appeared to be blood, now dark and dried. It emitted a faint, foul stench.

Along with the paper, there were several strands of hair and a talisman inscribed with strange, occult symbols.

Everyone’s eyes widened as they realized what it was: a malicious, intentionally buried object, clearly designed to steal something—a "fortune-stealing talisman."

Even Oliver Fairmont, witnessing this firsthand, found it hard to deny. His disbelief was evident as he turned to Mrs. Walsh.

Mrs. Walsh trembled, her lips quivering. "N-no, I didn’t bury this... I’ve never seen these things before. Master Oliver, Miss Eleanor, you have to believe me..."

Oliver opened his mouth to respond, but Eleanor cut him off with a cold, matter-of-fact voice.

"Whether you buried it or not, the surveillance cameras outside the mansion will confirm it."

She had already checked; the cameras covered every corner of the Fairmont estate, so finding out wouldn’t be difficult.

"To use a fortune-stealing talisman, you need the blood of the person whose fortune you want to steal, and the hair of a Fairmont family member. You’ve used our family’s bloodline to steal our fortune, haven’t you?"

At the sound of her words, Mrs. Walsh’s face drained of color. She collapsed to the ground, her body shaking.

The others could no longer deny it—this paper package was clearly something she had buried. As for the hair, given Mrs. Walsh’s long tenure at the Fairmont family estate, acquiring a few strands of hair from any family member would be easy.

But whose hair was it?

"Even if she did bury it, it doesn’t mean she stole anything. Maybe..." Oliver tried to argue, but Alexander Fairmont silenced him with a single icy glance.

"Shut up. Don’t make me say it again."