Chapter Ninety-Two: Old Fool Zhang, I’m Coming In.

The sound would have been enough to raise the hair on a ordinary person listening to it in the dead of night.

But when a man has lived past sixty, he comes to know the Mandate of Heaven. Old Zhang had lived long enough to encounter his share of strange things.

Besides, the four households around him were probably still up and having their evening meal, their electric lights still burning. If one listened carefully, one could almost catch bursts of laughter and chatter carried on the wind.

For instance, the Li family next door on the right, separated from his own home by only a single wall.

Even Old Zhang’s beloved goddaughter, Li Feng, the girl’s bright laughter could reach him clearly.

So naturally, Old Zhang felt no fear at all.

He had heard that sound for decades; he was long used to it.

Lying on the heated kang bed, Old Zhang pulled up the quilt and prepared to sleep.

Smacking his lips, he savored the lingering fragrance of the yellow wine he had drunk, let out a burp, and then, comforted by the noises outside the door, closed his eyes.

The wine was taking hold. Drowsy and dazed, Old Zhang drifted off.

“Zhang the Simpleton, Zhang the Simpleton...”

Suddenly, in the middle of his dream, Old Zhang heard someone calling him.

The voice came from far away and drew nearer and nearer.

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

It was a pounding on the door.

The knocking was far too loud, and with his name being called like that, Old Zhang sobered at once.

Still half-awake, he sat up on the kang bed and rubbed his eyes.

“After all these years, Zhang the Simpleton... no one has called me that in years. That was my name... and that voice... why does it sound so much like my son? But my son is dead... isn’t he?”

In an instant, Old Zhang was fully awake.

His own name, Zhang the Simpleton, he had nearly forgotten it himself. Yet now someone was calling it, and the voice sounded like his dead son’s. No matter how he heard it, his heart began to pound for no reason, and his head cleared at once.

“Zhang the Simpleton, it’s me... your son... I’m Little Dong...”

Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock.

The knocking went on, and at the same time Old Zhang realized that his name was still being called over and over again. It really was his son!

The voice itself admitted it!

His dead son had come back!

No—wait. His dead son... how could he possibly come back?

Old Zhang’s heart went instantly cold.

He still remembered that, twenty years ago, his son had gone swimming in the river and drowned. How could he still be alive?

He must have heard wrong!

Old Zhang reached for the light. His hand found the pull cord for the switch, and he yanked it. The lamp came on, brightening the room a little.

But the light in Old Zhang’s house was an old-fashioned tungsten bulb, casting a dim yellow glow. At the same time, it crackled and hissed, as though something were wrong with the wiring, flickering uncertainly.

Old Zhang felt that something was not quite right.

Outside, the wind grew even fiercer, with the feeling of thunder and lightning gathering in the dark. In the howling gale, the wooden door shook harder and harder, and the voice vanished.

Only then did Old Zhang grin weakly. It had to have been his imagination.

But very soon, tears welled up again in his eyes.

At his age, who did not long for children and grandchildren around their knees, for a wife at his side, for his parents still alive and well?

Yet in this world, one can seldom have everything. As the saying goes, life rarely goes as one wishes.

Wiping his tears away, Old Zhang found himself unable to sleep. He threw back the quilt, put on his clothes, and prepared to watch some television.

At that moment, he noticed the light still flickering on and off, and his heart gave a sudden jolt. Could the bulb be broken?

He turned on the television. A Peking opera was playing: it was the opera channel, and a painted-faced performer on the screen was laughing and singing continuously.

As he listened, Old Zhang had just settled himself on the stool when, all at once, a shriek of agony burst from the television and startled him so badly he nearly fell.

With a soft thud, the stool slipped out from under him. As it toppled to the floor, Old Zhang looked up in terror and saw that the scream had come from the painted-faced performer himself.

He stared harder and realized the painted face had changed. It had become... his son’s face.

That face was a ghastly green, swollen so badly it looked ready to rot apart.

One eyeball had fallen out, and the other remained half-embedded in the bloodied socket, half of it still there and half gone.

It was terrifying.

“My God!”

Stunned, Old Zhang looked again and again, only then realizing he had seen wrong.

There was no such face on the television.

Old Zhang’s expression turned grave.

Something was not right. How could he have heard his son calling to him in his dream, and now seen his son’s face on the television... Old Zhang was afraid.

“Zhang the Simpleton, it’s me. I’m your son. Open the door...”

From the doorway, the cry came again.

This time it was very clear. Old Zhang was no longer half asleep, and he heard it even more distinctly. It really was his son!

The voice of his dead son, unmistakable!

But his son was already dead!

So the thing outside the house was a ghost!

“Ahhh!”

Old Zhang screamed, then gritted his teeth. Somehow, a surge of strength rose from nowhere in his body, and he strained to shove the table, stools, and chairs against the door, bracing the latch from the inside.

The knocking grew louder and louder, pounding like a drum. “Open the door! Open the door! Zhang the Simpleton, I’m your son, Little Dong...”

As it howled, the voice outside swelled in fury.

Crack, crack, crack.

Something bizarre outside the door pushed a hand through the crack in the frame.

That hand was waterlogged and white, and along with it, wriggling maggots were being forced inside. In an instant, it was as though they had been poured through the gap, blanketing the threshold in a crawling layer.

The stench was so foul that Old Zhang nearly could not bear it.

Before long, the movement at the door lessened, and the light stopped flickering. Just as Old Zhang drew a breath of relief, a sound came from behind him.

“Zhang the Simpleton, it’s me, your son Little Dong... I... I’m in...”

...

The night deepened.

Knock, knock, knock.

Knock, knock, knock.

All around him, more and more knocking sounded.

The voices rose and fell in waves.

One by one, the lights flickered and dimmed.

One by one, they went out.

...

Crash.

Thunder rolled, lightning flashed, and brilliance split the dark.

On Wolf Fang Mountain, figures loomed in the distance.

...

This was Lin Yi’s first time driving.

At the school gate, looking at the nearly identical cars before him, Lin Yi felt a touch of helplessness.

A junker like this really did not match the identity of a billionaire he now had.

But soon Lin Yi realized that although the car looked unimpressive from the outside, just a plain black shell with a cold, ugly brand name, the inside was a completely different world, full of cutting-edge technology.

Holding the key, he pressed it casually. The headlights of the first car in the row lit up.

Lin Yi got in.

The car was packed with tech. Lin Yi tried out every button in turn before realizing there were truly hidden mechanisms inside.

Without another word, he started the car, shifted with the paddles, and stomped on the accelerator. With a whoosh, the vehicle shot forward like lightning.

In the car, Lin Yi played energetic music and felt a fresh surge of novelty.

He lowered the window halfway. Cool air rushed in, and Lin Yi found his mood especially bright.

Already, he had begun to consider what he should do next.

And that plan was aimed squarely at the Ten Great Sects.

His conversation with Director Lin Tianming had made one thing clear to him: ever since ancient times, those who governed and those who were governed had always clashed.

This kind of conflict was just like the conflict between husband and wife: either the husband overpowers the wife, or the wife bullies the husband; one side always prevails over the other.

The correct answer was simple: either the east wind overcomes the west wind, or the west wind sweeps away the east.

The Paranormal Investigation Bureau wanted to manage the Ten Great Sects. On the surface, that was how things worked, but whether the Ten Great Sects would give you face was another matter entirely.

Today, Zhang Ruofeng and the others had refused to show the Paranormal Investigation Bureau any respect. If not for Lin Yi stepping in, An Miaoyi would have been bullied.

That was the sorrow of the one in power.

No wonder the old courts were always crying about wandering knights and martial troublemakers violating the law, trying to wipe out the martial world in one sweep. It turned out those sects were simply impossible to control.

In this changing world, with ominous energy everywhere, not only had demons and ghosts sown chaos, but these sects and factions had also grown ever more powerful.

That was precisely why Lin Yi dared to strike hard. When he struck hard, the Paranormal Investigation Bureau would back him up.

After all, striking hard did not mean truly killing them.

Still, Lin Yi was certain of one thing: he and the Ten Great Sects were now locked in mortal enmity.

Today he had not dealt a fatal blow because they were in a public area. The next time he saw them, he would have to kill them without hesitation. Lin Yi guessed those people were thinking the exact same thing.

Invisibly, that only increased the risk around him.

He always wanted to keep a low profile, yet the demons and ghosts had come looking for him, and now the immortal disciples of those sects had taken issue with him as well.

The car, whatever else could be said about its outdated appearance, at least bore a fiercely authoritative plate.

With public safety assured and the roads nearly empty, Lin Yi pushed the car to its limit and drove it flat out.

He experienced firsthand what privilege truly meant.

On the highway, before he had even chosen his lane, the service staff had already guided him, signaling that he should pass directly through a special lane for manually handled vehicles.

Before his car even reached the barrier, it had already lifted high into the air.

On the expressway, Lin Yi drove at over one hundred and fifty miles per hour and made excellent time toward Heavenly River City.

Before noon, he had already arrived.

Along the way, he had received a call from the personnel stationed at the cave site in Upper River Village, Heavenly River City. The voice on the other end had been very courteous.

“Comrade Lin Yi, this is Bai Ke. We have been waiting for you. Welcome.”

“Haha, thank you, thank you. I’ll be there soon.”

...

The place Lin Yi was heading to was called Pigeon Cave.

As its name suggested, in the beginning that mountain cave had been almost entirely home to wild pigeons.

Besides pigeons, the most numerous creatures there had been bats.

People in these times feared bats above all, because many viruses had originated from their bodies.

That was why, in the past, many people had gone to Pigeon Cave to hunt pigeons, either to sell them or to eat the meat. But now no one dared do such a thing anymore, all afraid of catching something from the bats.

Pigeon Cave was indeed not far from Upper River Village, though that was only if one was driving; on foot, it would still take a full half hour.

When the car reached the entrance to Upper River Village, Lin Yi finally realized that almost every household in the village was keeping its doors shut and staying inside.

Though it was broad daylight, the ominous energy had soaked into nearly every corner.

It hung over the entire sky above Upper River Village.

There were people on the streets, but none of them were villagers.

The people coming and going all had bulging temples and did not look like ordinary folk.

If he had not needed to go to Pigeon Cave first, Lin Yi would certainly have gone straight to Upper River Village.