Go all out

Chapter 45: The Young Man

As soon as Zhang Qiang flung the corpse hook into the fog, it seemed to catch onto something immediately, snapping taut. A furious roar instantly echoed from within the fog: “Hmph, I see you don’t want to keep going here, do you?” No sooner had those sharp words been uttered than the river’s surface all around began to churn as if in response, as though countless hands were angrily slapping the water. Faced with such an eerie scene, Zhang Qiang merely sneered, paying it no mind. “I’ll give you a little face. Do you really think I, Zhang Qiang, am afraid of you? I’ll count to three—get the hell out of here!” “One!” Zhang Qiang held up a single finger with an air of dominance. “Two!!” “Three!” Before Zhang Qiang’s icy words had even faded, he yanked the corpse hook in his hand with all his might. From within the thick fog came a muffled groan laced with pain. “Fine! Since you’ve chosen to burn our bridges early, I needn’t stand on ceremony any longer. Watch your step next time!” As soon as the voice faded, the corpse hook in Zhang Qiang’s hand trembled violently, as if something had broken free. The thick fog surrounding the boat quickly began to dissipate on its own, vanishing completely within a few minutes. The water ghosts that had been circling the boat were also gone. Yang Yun was floating on the water’s surface. He gave Zhang Qiang a deep look before flying up. I couldn’t help but size up Zhang Qiang, secretly amazed. This Zhang Qiang was truly formidable—he hadn’t shown that water ghost the slightest bit of respect just now. “What are you looking at?” Zhang Qiang glanced at me. I gave an awkward smile and walked over. “Was that water ghost just now the one who’d been trailing behind the boat all along, guzzling chicken blood?” After all, on our way here, the blood from that chicken whose throat had been slit was completely devoured by some mysterious entity—and the only one with any real power just now was that water ghost. “Him? Does he even qualify?” Zhang Qiang shook his head dismissively. “Is there something else?” I was taken aback and instinctively glanced at the dead big fish on the boat, pointing at it. “It?” Zhang Qiang shook his head, seemingly unwilling to say more, and instead asked me, “Will you tell me how you read fortunes?” “Um… if you want to learn, I could teach you…” “Stop right there.” Zhang Qiang shot me a exasperated look. “Didn’t I just say? If you’re interested, you can tag along with me for a few months—then you’ll know everything.” “Forget it, then.” I shook my head sheepishly. This line of work—dealing with the spiritual realm—wasn’t for someone like me. It wasn’t that I couldn’t handle the hardships; it was just that someone like Zhang Qiang was born for this. You could tell just by looking at his face. As for me? Ever since I learned the Four Divinations, I haven’t looked in a mirror for ages. Even when I get my hair cut, I turn my back to the stylist… Yang Yun walked over and asked straight out, “Did you just say there’s a water corpse down there?” Zhang Qiang nodded. Yang Yun didn’t say anything; instead, he spread his hand, and a tattered book mysteriously materialized. With a grave expression, he opened it, seemingly searching for something. Naturally, I watched the book in Yang Yun’s hands with curiosity. It certainly couldn’t be the Book of Life and Death; it was likely just some kind of record book. A few minutes later, Yang Yun closed the book; with a flick of his wrist, it vanished just as mysteriously as it had appeared. His gaze fixed on the water in the distance. “The water corpse was once a government official who drowned here while bathing with a woman. He died a tragic death, and since it’s been over two hundred years, it’s a rather unique case among water corpses—not an easy one to deal with.” “Can’t even you Ghost Officers handle it?” I asked curiously. Yang Yun shook his head. “We only deal with ghosts and corpses—water corpses aren’t under our jurisdiction.” I understood what he meant perfectly. Simply put, everyone has their own duties. By that logic, even if King Yama himself came down here, he’d likely be turned away just the same. After all, water corpses have no chance of reincarnation. They don’t pass through the Underworld, and they’re not under your jurisdiction—so why would they give you any consideration? “Zhang Qiang, do you have any ideas?” Yang Yun turned to Zhang Qiang and asked. “I tried to communicate with him just now, but he didn’t pay any attention to me,” Zhang Qiang said, shaking his head. Hearing Zhang Qiang’s words, we all fell silent. Zhang Qiang had been severely injured and soundly defeated by a water corpse before; this one, over two hundred years old, was likely even more formidable. Without a viable solution, Zhang Qiang naturally wouldn’t risk going back down there. That was understandable—after all, no one would risk their own life. Amid the silence, I thought of my brother Tian Zhan. He’s a master of Taoist arts—surely he’d be the water zombie’s nemesis, right? Hmm… Wait, that doesn’t seem right. In movies, Taoist priests always deal with zombies, but water corpses are quite different from zombies. Still, I had no choice but to pull out my phone and call Tian Zhan to ask if he had any good ideas. But when I called, Tian Zhan’s phone was turned off. This took me by surprise. He’d only just left today—had something happened to him, or had his phone just run out of battery? I felt a little worried. I’d noticed this morning that something was off about Tian Zhan’s expression—it’s very possible he’s run into some trouble. Sigh. I just hope Tian Zhan is safe and sound. “Then I’ll go down and talk to him to see if he’s willing to make a deal,” Yang Yun suddenly said. Zhang Qiang stared at Yang Yun without saying a word, clearly not in favor of this approach. “Wait a minute. Wipe the dust off your face first. Let me assess the fortune of this mission before we decide,” I said earnestly. Yang Yun froze, seemingly at a loss for words. He shook his head violently, and his deathly pale, paper-like face transformed—as if by magic—into that of a… young man? Huh? Did Yang Yun die that early? Zhang Qiang, standing nearby, also looked somewhat surprised. After all, I’d always assumed Yang Yun had been dead for over a thousand years, so I’d instinctively pictured him as an old man. I never expected him to be so young—maybe twenty-five or so. Still, his face really did have the features of someone who dies young. He had quite a delicate, handsome face, but how should I put it? His lips were too thin, and his face was a classic oval shape—almost like a woman’s. That left me speechless. His facial features were actually quite good, but his eyebrows were too narrow. Combined with his large eyes, which overshadowed the fortune associated with his eyebrows, it created the appearance of a short life. And on top of that, he was… Uh… Yang Yun shot me a glare, as if to say, “What the hell are you rambling about?” I found it a bit amusing, so I cleared my throat a few times and stared at his Life Palace for a moment. There were no obvious signs of misfortune, but now, with the moonlight shining down, his face looked a bit pale. This is called “transformation”—meaning he’ll have to put up with a lot of abuse down there, and whether he does it or not, he’ll get cursed out like crazy, but his life won’t be in danger. Looking at it that way, the water corpse down there shouldn’t be too bad—aside from having a lousy temper. “All right, go on down. Remember, this water corpse has a bad temper—give it a little leeway.” I said to Yang Yun. Yang Yun nodded. With a flick of his face, a paper mask reappeared. His body grew light as he floated up and slowly sank beneath the water’s surface without making a single ripple. What piqued my curiosity, though, was that judging by Yang Yun’s facial features, he hadn’t been married in his lifetime. In other words, Yang Yun had jumped on the bandwagon first and tried to get his ticket later… or rather, he hadn’t had time to get it yet. Of course, there’s another possibility: Yang Yun’s descendants might not be biologically related to him. It’s also possible that he adopted someone else’s child, raised them as his own, and passed down the Yang surname through the generations… As for the exact circumstances, I didn’t feel comfortable asking. “How long have you known him?” Zhang Qiang asked me curiously. “Half a day? Oh, about five hours,” I said after thinking for a moment. “Are you serious?” Zhang Qiang clearly didn’t believe me. “I have no reason to lie to you.” I spread my hands. “I promised to help him, so of course I’m going to see it through.” Zhang Qiang fell silent. He stared at me for a moment; the coldness had faded from his expression, and he seemed to take a bit more of a liking to me. I didn’t think much of it—people like Zhang Qiang are just naturally reclusive, but they make great friends; they’ll truly go through fire and water for their friends. We waited on the boat for a while. Then Zhang Qiang went back into his cabin and came out carrying a rooster. He tossed the dead rooster overboard, then tied this one to the bow again. I asked him what that meant, and he explained that a body-retriever’s boat must have a living creature on the bow so it can be sacrificed at any time; otherwise, it would be targeted by the creatures beneath the water. I nodded without saying a word. After waiting a little longer, Yang Yun surfaced from the water. His face was grim, even angry—it seemed he’d been scolded quite harshly. I fought back a laugh and, along with Zhang Qiang, walked over to him with concern and asked, “How did it go? What did he say?”