Chapter 87

Last night, he had completely concealed himself, wrapped up from head to toe, leaving only his eyes exposed.

But Li Zhuiyuan could still remember those eyes.

Just now, Li Zhuiyuan had seen him.

He was standing close to Tan Wenbin, the two of them sharing a water faucet, scrubbing themselves with soap—and he’d even called him “big bro.”

Once he confirmed it with his eyes, Li Zhuiyuan didn’t bother looking at his calves. He didn’t care whether there were gunshot grazes or any attempt to cover them up.

Once he was sure, he saw no need to dig further. Doing so would be redundant and might arouse suspicion.

Because the other had seen him before.

But the other party probably didn’t realize that he had recognized him as well.

So he kept acting, probably feeling quite smug when he called him “big bro” like that.

Li Zhuiyuan hoped he would keep it up.

The more eager he was to play the role, the more unwilling he was to tear off the mask—which meant Li Zhuiyuan was relatively safe for now.

Because honestly, that classmate Lin Shuyou’s skills were terrifying.

If he really got violent, not even the bronze mirror ward or this pair of high heels might be enough to stop him.

Still, one thing could be said with some certainty now: Lin Shuyou wasn’t the real culprit behind that case seven years ago.

A person’s face could be read like a tree’s growth rings. Li Zhuiyuan was sure he was the same age as Tan Wenbin. At the time of the incident seven years ago, he’d probably been in fifth grade.

Aunt Liu had said he was an Corpse Retriever, and normally, people in that “profession” were like the actors who played Guan Yu at temple fairs—supposedly upright and righteous.

But nothing was absolute. Just like he could say that most Corpse Retrievers carried a sense of compassion for the dead...

Yet that didn’t stop people like the Mao father-and-son duo from existing in their ranks.

So the profession might be good, but the people—not necessarily.

That was why Li Zhuiyuan decided to defuse this bomb while the guy was still caught up in his performance.

It didn’t even matter whether he had shown up at the teaching building last night. Just knowing someone like that was sleeping a few dorms away on the same floor made it hard for him to rest easy.

One does not sleep soundly with a rival by the bed.

Tan Wenbin returned from his shower, humming. He shut the door and flopped onto his bed.

“Yuanzi-ge, I was gonna ask Lin Shuyou to go to Old Sichuan for grilled fish tonight, but he said he wanted to enjoy the library vibes instead.”

What struck Tan Wenbin as odd was that this previously obedient new friend suddenly had his own ideas.

Which wasn’t wrong, of course—it was normal—but it did seem a bit off from how he’d first presented himself.

Especially since at the beginning of the semester, everyone was clearly seeking social connections. Otherwise, it’d be so awkward not to have anyone to walk to class or eat with.

Hearing this, Li Zhuiyuan understood:

Looks like...

Classmate Lin Shuyou didn’t feel safe sleeping either.

…

The dorm was lively in the first half of the night, but it quieted down later.

The exhaustion from daytime military drills meant even energetic college students couldn’t sustain an all-night routine just yet.

On the two dorm beds, Li Zhuiyuan and Tan Wenbin were fast asleep.

Under the cover of night, a dark figure slowly descended toward the window, head first.

It was summer, and the dorm windows were wide open.

Just as he was about to enter, the pair of high heels on the windowsill suddenly flew up and struck at the shadow.

The figure twisted his arm, letting the black cloth of his sleeve wrap around the heels, swallowing them whole.

Though the shoes still squirmed under the cloth, they made no sound.

The figure entered the balcony, stepped into the room, and approached the boy’s bed.

Just as he reached out for the boy’s neck, his eyes narrowed, and he sprang back.

A spade swept up from below, blade edge gleaming. If the figure hadn’t dodged in time, he might have lost a foot.

Runsheng kicked off the ground, sliding out from under the bed, and swung the Yellow River Spade again.

In Runsheng’s eyes, anyone who had snuck in and reached for Xiaoyuan’s throat could only die.

The shadow moved nimbly, grabbing the top rail of the bed with both hands and flipping himself upward.

Tan Wenbin threw off his thin blanket and grabbed the Seven-Star Hook hidden underneath, stabbing at the intruder.

The figure clamped the hook between his feet and yanked forward, throwing Tan Wenbin off balance, then kicked backward.

“Bang!”

Tan Wenbin was booted in the shoulder and tumbled back onto his bed.

Runsheng had already gotten to his feet, sweeping the Yellow River Spade again with a shrill whoosh.

The shadow clearly didn’t dare clash directly. He slapped the upper bunk’s frame with his left hand and soared away like a swallow, dodging the strike and landing back on the balcony.

Then, his eyes swept over to the boy’s bed again, where Li Zhuiyuan was now sitting upright, staring at him coldly.

Realizing he’d been expected, the shadow didn’t hesitate. He sprang upward, curled into a back dive, and disappeared off the balcony.

Li Zhuiyuan got out of bed and placed a hand on Runsheng’s shoulder.

Runsheng took a step forward, bracing himself at the window, and vaulted down with the boy on his back.

Tan Wenbin followed quickly, gripping the Seven-Star Hook in one hand and cradling his shoulder with the other.

He sprinted to the window, then slowed down, turned around, and opened the dorm door to take the stairs instead.

Just as the figure was about to land, a whip lashed toward him—Yin Meng had been lying in wait.

The figure twisted midair, flipping before hitting the ground and narrowly dodging the strike.

Yin Meng’s eyes were grim. She now believed it—this guy really could dodge bullets.

Still, she knew her role. Missing once didn’t stop her. She stepped in, whip coiling around her fist, and launched a punch.

The two exchanged rapid blows, then kicked almost simultaneously.

“Bang.”

Yin Meng was knocked back, clutching her abdomen.

The figure remained still. He had sidestepped at the last second, absorbing most of the impact.

She’d taken the worse of it—but she’d bought time.

Runsheng landed with Li Zhuiyuan.

The shadow clearly feared Runsheng. As he charged again, the shadow didn’t dare engage—he simply turned and ran.

Runsheng gave chase with Li Zhuiyuan on his back. They vaulted the courtyard wall, crossed a flowerbed, and reached the empty sports field.

Burdened with a rider, Runsheng couldn’t move at full speed and gradually fell behind.

But just then, Li Zhuiyuan snapped his fingers.

“Snap!”

The seal on the high heels was lifted.

The fleeing figure stumbled and immediately hurled the shoes away.

That slight delay was enough. Runsheng caught up, and so did Yin Meng and Zhuangzhuang.

The three surrounded him in a triangle.

The figure didn’t bother hiding his intent, turning to face Tan Wenbin—the weakest link.

Tan Wenbin laughed in disbelief.

“Could you be any more obvious, you bastard?”

Then he dropped the Seven-Star Hook and pulled out the Homecoming Net.

The message was clear. He wouldn’t fight—but if the guy came at him, he’d drag him down too.

As the team’s weak link, Zhuangzhuang had to make himself troublesome.

Li Zhuiyuan slid off Runsheng’s back, stood aside, and addressed the shadow.

“Let’s talk.”

Only when they had the upper hand would Li Zhuiyuan be willing to talk—reveal identities.

Just as he was about to perform the Liu Clan's Art of Observing Qi, he frowned and paused.

The wind was rising.

The shadow let out a theatrical intonation:

“Ghost-raising filth... dares to speak with me~”

As the final syllable rang out, he touched his brow with a finger, and his eyes turned into vertical slits.

The high heels on the ground, still flailing to show off in front of Li Zhuiyuan, fell silent.

As his vertical pupils scanned the field, everyone felt a wave of pressure.

Tan Wenbin looked down. His legs were trembling uncontrollably.

“What the hell is this?”

Li Zhuiyuan answered, “The spirit medium has invoked the god.”

“Rip!”

The black cloak burst open under the moonlight, revealing his true appearance.

He wore ceremonial colors, upright shoulder drapes, straw sandals on his feet, a crane-feathered crown on his head, and his face painted with white stripes and fish-tail patterns.

He clapped his hands. Though unarmed, authority radiated from him.

“Demonic scum—only death, no redemption!”

Having dodged Runsheng earlier, Lin Shuyou now advanced of his own accord. Every three steps, he staggered—two feints, one real—a style called the “three-step praise.”

This state was known as spirit possession. The deity had descended.

Li Zhuiyuan understood: this wasn’t Lin Shuyou anymore.

This was the White Crane Child.

Communication was no longer possible.

“Hold him off. Buy me time.”

Li Zhuiyuan began to retreat while Runsheng stepped forward.

Once he was far enough, Li Zhuiyuan closed his eyes and began reciting the Sutra of Kṣitigarbha Bodhisattva.

The White Crane Child approached Runsheng. With Li Zhuiyuan’s orders in mind, Runsheng held his spade defensively, not launching the first strike.

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