With a serious expression, I said, “Master, I’m just seeking the truth here. What does it feel like to play with five tigresses? Why are you so angry? Anyone who can handle tigers is no ordinary person…”
The Flying Centipede lunged at me with a claw-like hand, gripping my neck as if to strangle me. His yellow teeth bared as he spewed foul breath, making me instinctively recoil—it almost reminded me of Meng Liuchuan.
“You little brat,” the Flying Centipede cursed, “you don’t know your place, daring to mock your grandpa? When I was roaming the rivers and lakes, you were still just a liquid. Don’t act tough—if I want you dead, you won’t live.”
He tried to force a pill into my mouth, its stench suggesting it was filled with insect eggs. I smirked and said, “I’m the one who’s your damn grandpa. I’ve eaten the five treasures of the insect clans—Golden Thread, Green Wood, Water Green, Fire Tiger, and Earth Silkworm—plus a Yin-sucking millipede. No poison in this world can touch me.” I cursed him without restraint.
Besides, the police would be here soon.
Just as the Flying Centipede was choking me to force the pill down, the door was kicked open—this time, it was beyond repair.
“Freeze!” Two officers stood at the entrance, flashlights immediately illuminating the Flying Centipede’s face.
“Crap, an ambush?” he snarled. Swiftly, he grabbed a black case, threw on his robe, and reached for a box on the table. I intercepted him with a quick kick, blocking his hand.
Forced to abandon his plan, he smashed through the window and leaped onto the balcony of the opposite building. The cramped urban village made it easy—he landed on a windowsill where four people were playing mahjong. He jumped onto their table, ruining a winning hand. Two of them stormed into the kitchen for cleavers and chased after him…
Coughing and clutching my neck, I said, “Officers, you’re finally here. I was getting desperate.” The cops glanced out the window but didn’t pursue.
Soon, under the bed, they found two highly venomous snake skeletons—jet black and terrifying.
Beside them was a child’s skull, its surface riddled with bite marks, even more horrifying. The bone had been bleached white, as if repeatedly handled. The contrast between the black and white bones was chilling.
A foul stench wafted from the tiny bathroom, its walls lined with colorful panties—likely “souvenirs” from the Flying Centipede’s encounters with working girls. Disgustingly, each was labeled with a number in marker, already reaching the 300s…
The officers were stunned and immediately reported the findings. I almost believed Chen Tutu’s words—wherever I went, death followed. They kept me for questioning, asking why I had clashed with a Taoist priest.
I explained, “He tried to turn my black cat into soup—wanted to drink its brain. My dog led me here.” The officers glanced at the now-awake cat and dog in my arms, seeming to buy my story. He Xiaomao suddenly jumped down and paced around.
“How did you know to call the police?” they asked.
I grinned. “So you’d come faster. Besides, Officer Shen Yihu and I are partners—you can call him to verify.”
Shen Yihu apparently carried weight in their circles. After a brief hesitation, they said, “Call him. We’ll check.”
I dialed Shen, and once they confirmed, their attitude softened. “So you’re the master who cracked the decade-old Bai Yu case with Officer Shen? I’m Zhang Tong, this is Liu Wo. We’ve always admired you. Solving a cold case like that—you must have top-notch forensic skills. Did you graduate from the People’s Public Security University or the Criminal Investigation Academy?”
I hadn’t realized the Bai Yu case had such an impact. Laughing, I said, “No, no. I didn’t study forensics. I grew up reading martial arts novels. You should test for blood traces—see if any women were killed here.”
Zhang Tong looked surprised. “You mean that fake priest didn’t just collect panties but also murdered people?”
“It’s possible,” I said.
Liu Wo summoned the innkeeper, who acted familiar with the officers, offering cigarettes. “Officer Zhang, Officer Liu, have a smoke. What’s going on?”
When Zhang knocked on the neighboring door, the pimpled young man and his “girlfriend” were long gone—probably traumatized by their first night out.
Zhang declined the cigarettes. “Can’t smoke on duty.” The innkeeper awkwardly pocketed them and provided the Flying Centipede’s fake ID info.
More officers arrived to collect fingerprints. No blood traces were found in the bathroom—a relief. Zhang and Liu took the child’s skull for analysis, along with the black snake bones and the panties…
Zhang told me the skull would go to the forensic center. “We’ll contact you if needed.”
As they left, the innkeeper pressed a pack of expensive cigarettes into their hands. “Brothers, please—the police tape is bad for business. The real money comes from the working girls. A day’s loss is a thousand or two…”
Liu Wo shrugged. “If this turns out to be a murder, your place might get shut down.”
The innkeeper threw the cigarettes to the ground. “The police chief is my sworn brother! You’ll regret this!”
Seeing his arrogance, I patted his shoulder. “There’s a ghost standing behind you…”
—
Outside the urban village, stalls were closing. As I reached the main road, I found my car’s front tire slashed. Two thugs approached. “You took our spot, pal. Compensation’s due.”
I admitted fault. “I was in a hurry. How much?”
“1,000. No less,” one said calmly.
“1,000? You make that in a night? I’ll join your business tomorrow!” I scoffed.
The thug sneered. “No money? We’ll keep the car. Come back tomorrow and ask for Brother Huolong.”
I smirked. “Brother Huolong? Ask him if he knows Brother Jun. Here’s 200—pump the tire.”
“Brother Jun my ass!” They swung at me.
Enraged, I muttered, “Fall.” They collapsed, writhing as if their stomachs were dancing.
Driving on a flat tire, I barely made it to Bai Meng’s flower shop. The repair shop was closed. I carried the wooden box home.
The guards—Xu Guangsheng and Ma Shuangxi—chatted with me. Xu asked, “Master, out hunting ghosts tonight?”
I grinned. “Caught a seductive one.”
Ma stared down the road, disappointed.
“Waiting for that voluptuous lady?” I asked.
He sighed. “Who am I to wait? I can’t afford her. Just worried—it’s late.”
Xu nudged him. “She’s out of your league. Marry a village girl—same in the dark.”
I whispered to Ma, “I saw her get hit by a truck. Might not make it.”
He froze, lost for words.
—
Back home, I opened the box. Xie Lingyu emerged, weakened but free.
“Xiao Qi, thank you,” she said softly.
I shrugged. “He Qingling found you. I just got lucky.”
She reached to tap my forehead—I dodged.
“Come here,” she scolded, wiping mud off my head. Then she opened her arms.
“Uh… you’re over a century old. I’m still young,” I stammered.
She laughed. “Just a hug. What are you imagining?” Blushing, I changed the subject. “How did he capture you?”
Angry, she explained, “A strange wire yanked me from the roof. He locked me in that box, said vile things about turning me into his ghost slave…”
I chuckled. “He collects panties. You got off easy.”
Her calm demeanor shattered. “I’ll make him pay!”
Later, she asked, “Did you get the white flower?”
I hesitated. “No. The seller brought a fake. A woman bought it—then got hit by a truck.”
Xie Lingyu sighed deeply and retreated to her room, closing the door with regret.
I missed the hug out of shyness.
—
May 2009 ended. Summer arrived in Jiangcheng.
Over breakfast, I called Yu Yuwei. “The boss is fine. Back to work this afternoon.”
At the noodle shop, Lei Honghong greeted me. “Master! Noodles and wine with two eggs?”
“Perfect.”
As I ate, Yu Fan called, desperate. “The bugs are killing me! Name your price!”
Annoyed, I stalled. “Endure a few more days.”
“I’ll slit my stomach!” he cried.
Relenting, I prescribed: “Three stinky socks, rotten wintermelon soup, dried gecko powder—simmer for three hours, then drink.”
Before hanging up, he added, “The Flying Centipede… he’s part of the Taoist Association. They’re convening at the Weiyang Hotel…”
I froze. A taxi pulled up—Sun Junliu limped out…
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