Inside the service compartment of Car No. 5, quite a few people had already gathered. Uncle Jianguo and I went over to take a look and found an eight-month-old baby who had suddenly developed a fever, already reaching 39 degrees. If this continued, the child might be in serious trouble. The next stop was Ankang, still over two hours away.
A prolonged fever could definitely lead to complications.
The child was traveling with his grandfather, heading to Xi’an to see his mother. The grandfather was drenched in sweat from anxiety, his Mandarin also quite rough. The compartment was packed with concerned passengers who had asked numerous questions and offered a dozen suggestions, but the baby continued to cry uncontrollably.
Uncle Jianguo pushed through the crowd and shouted, “Everyone means well, but the child needs fresh air right now. Kind-hearted friends, please return to your seats. I’m a doctor—let me take a look.”
I hadn’t expected Uncle Jianguo to be a doctor. He didn’t look the part, but his voice was strong and convincing. The well-meaning uncles and aunts quickly dispersed.
A few college students stepped back about five meters but remained in Car No. 5, waiting to see if they could still help.
The baby was still wailing nonstop. The female attendant kept trying to soothe the child, her face pale with fear that something might happen to the baby in her assigned car. Uncle Jianguo stepped forward and asked, “Why is the child wearing so many layers?”
The grandfather replied, “He has a fever. I figured more clothes would make him sweat it out.”
Uncle Jianguo said firmly, “Sweating can help, but too many clothes trap heat.”
He immediately removed two sweaters from the baby, revealing that the clothes underneath were completely soaked.
“No wonder he has a fever like this,” Uncle Jianguo muttered. He then placed a dry towel on the baby’s back to absorb the sweat and gave the child a sip of lukewarm water from the table.
The baby stopped crying, visibly more comfortable now, staring wide-eyed at the bright light in the compartment.
The attendant sighed in relief. “We were too panicked earlier. This big brother really knows what to do.”
Uncle Jianguo felt the baby’s forehead. “If we had some fever-reducing medicine, he’d be completely fine.” The grandfather had some cold medicine, so Uncle Jianguo measured out half a packet and gave it to the child.
Half an hour later, when they checked the temperature again, it had dropped to 37 degrees. Uncle Jianguo let out a relieved sigh and told the grandfather, “Give him another half packet in five hours. And remember, don’t overdress or underdress him. Got it?” The grandfather thanked him repeatedly in his rural dialect.
Seeing that everything was under control, Uncle Jianguo pulled me away.
A few of the concerned college students had overheard Uncle Jianguo’s words. One of them, a tall, sweet-looking girl with the Weibo username “Zuo’er Jinxia,” quickly typed on her phone:
*”On a speeding train, an eight-month-old baby’s fever spiked to nearly 40 degrees. Just as everyone was at a loss, a handsome uncle stepped forward. With his expert medical skills, he brought the baby’s temperature down in no time. Truly a dashing hero.”*
When I got back, I searched Weibo and found her post.
“Uncle Jianguo, the world loves a charming uncle. Someone just praised you online,” I said, showing him the phone.
Uncle Jianguo chuckled. “At my age, I still have fans?”
—
The train arrived in Xi’an at 8 a.m. Uncle Jianguo, Jiese, Xie Xiaoyu (carrying Xiao Jian), and I stepped off the train.
As soon as we got off, we saw the same college girl from yesterday running toward us, asking for a photo with Uncle Jianguo. He grinned so wide his face could barely contain it, saying, “Closer, a little closer!”
After the photo, she immediately uploaded it to Weibo.
Jiese shook his head. “Seems like us young guys are out of fashion now.”
—
We spent three days in Xi’an. Jiese took us to try yangrou paomo (lamb stew with bread), admire the city’s beauties, and visit the famous Terracotta Army. There, we ran into Zuo’er Jinxia and her classmates again. They greeted us enthusiastically.
College students these days are really warm and outgoing.
Later, Uncle Jianguo thumped his chest and declared, “What a coincidence! Let me treat you all to dinner tonight.”
Zuo’er Jinxia grabbed his arm. “My name is Susu. Uncle, you can call me Susu or Su’er from now on.”
Jiese and I felt even more irrelevant.
Susu and her four friends were skipping class to travel on a budget, staying in a youth hostel and eating cheaply—classic backpackers.
“So, where are we eating tonight, Uncle Jianguo?” I asked.
He waved a hand. “No worries, we’ll find a nice local spot. Fate brings us together—let’s make it fun!”
Susu cheered, “Oppa! My friends are ready. After dinner, let’s play Sanguosha (a card game based on the Three Kingdoms)!”
“Sure, sure. I can even play Four Kingdoms Chess…”
“Oppa, let’s go!” I nudged the dazed Uncle Jianguo. “Jiese already booked a place.”
Jiese, being half a Xi’an local, had picked a traditional restaurant. The dinner was lively, with Susu bombarding Uncle Jianguo with a hundred questions while occasionally tossing one my way. The boys in the group were shy, quietly eating.
I saw a bit of my younger self in them—timid kids saving up for trips by working part-time and skipping class.
Then, mid-conversation, Susu suddenly looked at me with a strange glint in her eyes. “You’re weird. I feel like you’re carrying a ghost with you.”
Her words startled me—I *was* carrying the wooden figurine Mo Bai, who was indeed a ghost.
I quickly denied it. “No way, I’m a living person. Why would I carry a ghost?”
Seemed Susu could sense spirits. She didn’t press further when I didn’t admit it.
After dinner, Jiese and I headed back to the hotel. We planned to take an early bus to Fufeng County the next morning.
Uncle Jianguo, however, actually went to play Sanguosha with Susu.
Well, if he had the energy, so be it. I just reminded him to come back early and not overdo it—he wasn’t as young as them.
—
Around 10 p.m., Uncle Jianguo suddenly called me. “Master Xiao, get here now! There’s trouble—at the Jinbuyao KTV!”
Jiese and I rushed over, only to find Uncle Jianguo and the students singing karaoke while playing Sanguosha. Talk about modern.
Jinbuyao was a mid-range KTV. When I arrived, a few bouncers were already sprawled on the floor.
The trouble started when Susu, spotting a local gang boss, blurted out that there was a ghost standing on his shoulder.
Uncle Jianguo, though capable in a fight, was outnumbered protecting five defenseless students. Plus, as the saying goes, “A strong dragon can’t crush a local snake.” They ended up cornered in a private room, cards scattered everywhere—Liu Bei literally pinned under Zhuge Liang.
When Jiese and I burst in, Uncle Jianguo shouted, “The master’s here! Maybe he can explain what’s going on!” He pointed at me like I was his lifeline.
The gang boss, decked in gold chains and a flashy watch, eyed the old bullet graze on my face and hesitated.
“You in the life too?” he asked.
I smiled. “What’d they do to you?”
This guy only controlled two streets—nothing compared to Dai Hao, the drug lord from North Tai. One cold glare from me, and he visibly tensed.
“This girl said there’s a ghost on me. And your old man hurt my boys,” he growled, gesturing at Susu and Uncle Jianguo. Clearly, he wanted money.
Jiese stepped forward, palms up. “Just a misunderstanding. Let’s all calm down—”
A thug slapped him. “Damn monk, you’re bad luck!”
Jiese, cheek red, said calmly, “Hit me if you want, but don’t hurt your hand.”
I studied the boss. “Not to scare you, but there *is* a ghost on your shoulder. Nightmares every night, right? Two female spirits haunting you.”
The boss slammed the table. Two blades pressed against my neck. “Show me this ghost, or you’re not leaving alive.”
His lackeys jeered, “Our boss’s aura’s too strong—ghosts run from him!”
“Bro, knives are outdated.” I walked to Susu.
“Don’t be scared. What exactly did you see?” I whispered.
Still shaken—probably her first time facing a gangster—she stammered, “A ghost was on his shoulder, but it hid when I noticed. I tried to warn him, and he almost hit me!”
If she sensed Mo Bai, she definitely saw the ghost on the boss.
“Describe it,” I urged.
After a pause, she said, “A two-faced imp. Huge head, no body—just legs holding it up. Really creepy.”
The boss broke into a sweat at her detailed description.
I faced him. “Left or right shoulder?”
Susu pointed. “Right. Definitely right.”
“Take off your shirt,” I said calmly.
He spat on his own collar. “You crazy? I ain’t stripping for you.”
“Bet you’ll collapse before I count to three.”
His right hand grabbed a dagger, pressing it to my chest, while his left gripped my throat. “I’ll count for you.”
“Three… two… one—”
He crumpled, clutching his stomach like he was about to soil himself. (I’d secretly activated the Three Corpses Worms inside him.)
I yanked the dagger away, pinned him with my foot, and tore his shirt open. On his right shoulder were two tiny black footprints.
Just then, a group of men in black suits stormed in.
(To be continued…)
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