I was stunned. The steel thread worm of the Golden Mantis Gu twisted several turns. As Zhen Yangzi’s words fell, he stood up.
Old Four continued, “Golden Mantis Gu is already difficult to raise, and there are very few parasites that can live on it. The steel thread worm is this terrifying. You’ll soon become a zombie.”
Old Four’s steel thread worm landed on my arm. I jumped up in the boat, trying to flick it off, but in the end, it burrowed inside. Once the worm entered my body, my central nervous system lost control, and I became like a zombie.
No consciousness, perhaps even a murder weapon. Maybe soon, I’d be a wanted killer online.
Practitioners of the Daoist and Mystic sects are strictly forbidden from using insect techniques or Gu techniques—or lethal setups—on ordinary people. That didn’t apply to me. Half my body was already in the Mystic sect. I struggled with the steel thread worm for a while, but I could still hear sounds outside—probably thanks to the five precious worms in me. My mouth was numb, my hands were numb, everything felt wrong.
What a terrifying steel thread worm.
Old Four wasn’t bluffing. Even as a Five Elements Insect Master, I couldn’t resist this worm. In the blink of an eye, it took control of my body. Eventually, I couldn’t move, my muscles stiffening. It was over—this was truly the sign of becoming a zombie. Stiff corpse, slowing breath, and soon, a craving for human blood. I’ve killed several zombies—was this karma? Was I doomed to become one myself? Tears welled in my eyes. Was my fatal flaw—letting my guard down around Old Four—also my punishment?
Jia Peng pointed at me. “Weird, why is he crying? Did something sad happen?”
Pan Shuya said, “Probably just sand in his eyes.”
Old Four glanced at me, moved me to the side of the boat. I became like a statue, maybe even an art piece. My eyes could still move, my hearing intact—perhaps the heavens’ final mercy.
Zhen Yangzi said, “It seems everything will end tonight. Ancient Benefactor, I’ve done right by you.”
He clenched his fists, as if steeling himself, then quickly left the boat. Outside, chaotic sounds erupted, followed by two loud clashes. Soon, Mayor Wu stumbled in, bruised and battered. To save time, he’d come alone, wearing a black trench coat, exhaustion on his face. To maintain his daily fighting spirit, he’d started with coffee and Red Bull, but later turned to Zhen Yangzi’s pills—effective but damaging to his health.
Mayor Wu looked at Pan Shuya and Jia Peng. “I’m Mayor Wu. If you have any issues, you can report them to me.”
Pan Shuya cried, “Someone’s trying to kill me! Will I die? I’m too young—my parents, my little brother still in school—” Mayor Wu flashed his signature smile. “Under the banner of the Republic, no one will harm you. Trust me.”
Zhen Yangzi stepped forward and slapped Mayor Wu. “Shut up. It’s not your turn to speak.” The slap knocked the fight out of him. He sat down, making the cramped boat even tighter.
Old Four stood. “Secretary Jia is here.” Soon after, Old Four re-entered, followed by Secretary Jia. Sharp-eyed, Secretary Jia noticed Mayor Wu’s silence. Jia Peng lowered his head when his father entered, but Secretary Jia barely glanced at the young man. Spotting my frozen form in the corner, he asked, “What’s wrong with Master Xiao?”
Zhen Yangzi said, “He’s dead!” Secretary Jia turned to flee, but Old Four yanked him back and slapped him. “Who said you could run?”
Jia Peng, who’d been sitting, suddenly lunged, shoving Old Four aside and helping his bleeding father up. “Don’t hurt my dad!” he shouted.
Everyone in the boat was stunned. Mayor Wu knew someone had cuckolded Secretary Jia, but never imagined this young man was his illegitimate son.
Pan Shuya screamed, “What’s happening? What’s happening?” Zhen Yangzi said, “Simple. A father and son both want you.”
Mayor Wu couldn’t help but laugh. “What a farce! Emperor Xuanzong of Tang stole his son’s wife. Now the son wants to steal his father’s.”
Zhen Yangzi gave a thumbs-up. “Mayor Wu, your knowledge spans East and West—even this tale.” Jia Peng trembled. Secretary Jia’s first child had been a daughter, but due to the one-child policy, he hid a son in the countryside, raised by his first wife. After she died, he remarried, but his new wife blocked Jia Peng’s recognition.
Otherwise, this wouldn’t have happened.
Secretary Jia, humiliated but hardened by years in politics, stood and faced Old Four. “Have I wronged you, Master Insect? Why target me?”
Old Four slapped him. “You killed Zhao Wenting, didn’t you?”
A flicker of unease crossed Secretary Jia’s face. “Who’s Zhao Wenting? I don’t know her.” Pan Shuya, now calm, shouted, “You killed her! You killed her!”
At school, Pan Shuya had heard of Zhao Wenting—a beautiful, elegant girl who died in a suspicious car crash. Rumors said her ghost haunted the campus. The papers reported she’d been hit by a speeding dump truck at an intersection, dying instantly. The government launched a crackdown on reckless dump trucks, later boasting 100% public satisfaction.
Pan Shuya had believed the official story—exhausted driver, tragic accident. But now, with Zhen Yangzi’s warning that Secretary Jia would silence her, she realized: Zhao Wenting’s death was no accident.
Old Four said, “I don’t want to kill you. Zhao Wenting’s family lives next to mine in Shaanxi. When her ashes returned, her parents wept like their souls were torn out. Even now, they think she’s away at school, coming home for New Year. I don’t want to kill you.”
He paused.
“I just want to eat your flesh. See what kind of heart you have.” Hearing this, I was stunned. To avenge his neighbors, Old Four was risking murder. In ancient terms—this was chivalry. Han Feizi said, “Chivalry violates the law with force.” Old Four’s method was the most direct.
Secretary Jia wanted to argue but gave up. Jia Peng stepped between them. “No! You can’t kill him!” Old Four waved him off. “I won’t touch you. I wanted you two to fight—didn’t expect father and son.”
Mayor Wu clapped. “Who’d have thought our esteemed secretary would hire killers? A rot in our happy society. With people like you, how can we achieve the Chinese Dream? Don’t worry, I’ve already reported you to the Provincial Commission for Discipline Inspection—”
Secretary Jia sneered. “Mayor Wu, think you’re clean? I know all about you.” They bickered like an old married couple. Mayor Wu accused him of taking a million during the river embankment project.
Secretary Jia shot back, “Peanuts! You took ten million for the affordable housing scam.” Zhen Yangzi slapped Mayor Wu so hard his teeth flew out.
Zhen Yangzi sneered. “How nostalgic.” Mayor Wu laughed coldly. “You’d better let me go. I called the local police chief—he’ll be here in half an hour.” Zhen Yangzi said, “Still naive. Pity Wu Yin died before I could settle things.”
Mayor Wu demanded, “What grudge did you have with my father?” Zhen Yangzi repeated, “The sins of the father fall on the son. Nature’s law. I remember everything your father did.”
I sighed inwardly. Mayor Wu’s father, Wu Yin, must have been one of the educated youths who tortured Gu Rechang. These two corrupt officials deserved no sympathy—death would cleanse them.
But Pan Shuya and Jia Peng were still young, with lives ahead. I could only watch and listen, unable to speak.
Secretary Jia looked at me. “He’s dead—why the tears? Longing for life? Or silent protest against fate?”
Mayor Wu checked his watch. Backup would arrive soon—he’d survive. Old Four asked, “Old Dog Jia, why kill an innocent girl like Zhao Wenting?”
Secretary Jia said, “Because she deserved it.”
Zhen Yangzi said, “No one ‘deserves’ death. Only those who sin beyond redemption.”
Old Four and Zhen Yangzi locked eyes. Together, they said, “Let’s begin.” I closed my eyes. Darkness. Then—nothing.
As if the world had ended.
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