Chapter 88

“Cough, cough…”

Lin Shuyou was probably trying to sneer—he clearly thought the boy in front of him was mocking him. But his injuries twisted the sneer into a cough, and he spat up two more mouthfuls of blood.

Runsheng picked up the Yellow River Spade and walked over, twirling the blade near the back of Lin Shuyou’s head, mimicking the swing of a golfer in a Hong Kong TV drama.

He was just waiting for a nod from Little Yuan—then he’d smash the man’s head in with one swing and bury him in a hole.

Li Zhuiyuan turned his gaze away and looked at Tan Wenbin. “Binbin, carry him to the basement under the shop.”

“Got it!”

Tan Wenbin jogged over, bent down, and carefully lifted Lin Shuyou onto his back.

Runsheng said, “Little Yuan, let’s go to the basement and deal with the body.”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Let’s talk first.”

Runsheng didn’t understand, but he nodded obediently all the same.

Li Zhuiyuan had started to follow them toward the shop but paused to explain, “Runsheng, our goal is to eliminate threats—but that doesn’t always mean physical destruction. As long as we’re clear about the objective, the methods can vary.”

“Oh.”

Runsheng scratched his head and gave a goofy smile. He was genuinely surprised. Little Yuan had actually taken the time to explain something to him. That wasn’t like the old Little Yuan at all—he never used to waste time like this.

Xue Liangliang would never have imagined that the store he gifted them had turned into a bandit den hidden inside a school campus.

Especially the basement—it had become the perfect place for holding people hostage.

After carrying Lin Shuyou into the shop, Tan Wenbin grabbed several drinks from the shelves before heading down to the basement.

He laid Lin Shuyou on Runsheng’s bed. The little black dog came out of its cage, circled the bed once, and then went back inside.

Tan Wenbin opened a bottle of soda and held it to Lin Shuyou’s lips. “Here, have something sweet.”

He’d noticed that Little Yuan always drank something after a fight, so he brought the drinks on purpose.

Lin Shuyou kept his lips shut and didn’t say a word.

“Not thirsty?”

“Cough… It’s carbonated.”

“Oh, my bad.” Tan Wenbin took a sip himself, let out a burp, then opened a bottle of milky drink, stuck in a straw, and offered it to Lin Shuyou again. This time, Lin Shuyou accepted it and took small sips.

Sugary drinks, after all, were a cheap and effective form of “tonic.”

When the bottle was empty, Tan Wenbin asked, “Want another?”

“No.”

“Don’t be shy. There’s more if you do.”

Lin Shuyou looked at Tan Wenbin with confusion. “You’re taking care of me?”

Tan Wenbin shrugged. “Just repaying the favor. You looked out for my little brother earlier.”

That shovel strike from the White Crane Boy—just a few centimeters closer, and Tan Wenbin’s precious bits would’ve been crushed.

He could tell—it wasn’t luck. That gap was deliberate.

Even during the later fight, the White Crane Boy clearly held back. He hadn’t hit Tan Wenbin as hard as he hit Runsheng or Yin Meng. Otherwise, there’s no way Tan Wenbin would still be bouncing around right now.

“So, he recognized me from the beginning.”

“Little Yuan’s sharp. You’ll get used to it.”

“What do you plan to do with me?”

“Well, bringing you here means Little Yuan wants to talk. If this is just a misunderstanding… then maybe try fixing your attitude first.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then when Runsheng buries you, I’ll make sure to pile on some extra dirt.”

“Heh…”

“Cut the act, dumbass.”

Lin Shuyou said nothing.

“Yeah, keep that look. You’re already here—don’t bother putting on airs.”

“He raises ghosts…”

“So what?”

“That’s the demonic path…”

“Any last wishes? If I can help, I will.”

“Tell my master I died in the line of duty—purging evil…”

“Try again. Like hell we’d notify your master. Kill one junior, then what—bring in the senior?

Relax. Little Yuan will arrange a perfectly normal death for you—or maybe pin it on someone else.

Even if your master does show up later, odds are they’ll come to us for help avenging you. They’ll end up thanking us.”

“I already notified my master about what’s happening here.”

“Liar.” Tan Wenbin sighed. “If you really had, you wouldn’t be telling us now—that’d just warn us to get ready.”

“You…”

Tan Wenbin glanced at Lin Shuyou’s swollen, bleeding lower left leg.

“Hey, Ayou. That leg of yours—leave it untreated any longer, it’s done for.”

“Mm…”

“Listen, if Little Yuan wanted you dead, he wouldn’t have had me carry you here, or leave me alone with you to do your ‘mental reeducation.’

My guess? He noticed you went easy on me earlier.”

Just then, footsteps echoed from outside. Tan Wenbin stepped away from the bed and picked up his soda again.

Li Zhuiyuan opened the door and walked in, sitting in the chair across from the bed.

The boy also had a can of Jianlibao in hand, sipping quietly.

For a while, no one spoke. Silence blanketed the room.

In the end, Lin Shuyou broke it. “What do you want to ask?”

Li Zhuiyuan shook his head. “Actually, I don’t really want to ask you anything.”

“Nothing at all… and you still brought me here?”

“Just wanted to observe you. See if you’re still a threat. And take a closer look at the side effects of medium-trance.”

“Side effects? Don’t you do it too?”

“I don’t. That was an act.”

“Impossible.”

“There’s nothing impossible about it. You’re a low-grade medium. You can only channel guiding spirit-children. I knew if I faked it, I’d fool you easily.”

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