20 Evil Spirits

When Cen Wu arrived at Blue Night, he went straight to find A-Ling. However, when he finally tracked him down, A-Ling simply spread his hands and said, "He just left."

A-Ling had gone out for a smoke earlier that evening and spotted a menacing man with a tattooed arm near the back door of Blue Night, accompanied by several others. Although the man hadn't explicitly stated he was looking for Xie Guilan, A-Ling’s intuition, honed by working in such a lawless place, prompted him to send a message to Cen Wu.

"Alright, thank you." Cen Wu didn't linger and headed out to find him.

The original novel had mentioned that the area around Blue Night was crawling with thugs. With so many intoxicated patrons, anyone who passed out in an alley risked having their wallet and phone stolen. Even those who weren't drunk were often targets for robbery. Furthermore, Blue Night was close to Huaijing No. 1 High School, and the nearby No. 13 High School was notorious for its poor academic standing and an abundance of delinquent youth who frequently ran with these gangs.

Xie Guilan had some history with them. Having offended both Xie Shangjing and the original owner of his body, Xie Guilan lacked any protection. As a mere high school student, he was a frequent target for these thugs, especially since he never fought back.

A-Ling was quite surprised. Cen Wu had agreed that he only needed to provide information and wouldn't need to intervene to help Xie Guilan. Yet, given the young master’s unpredictable temperament, A-Ling wasn't sure if he would keep his word. He had been testing him tonight, and he hadn't expected that Cen Wu truly wouldn't blame him. Those beautiful, misty eyes remained calm, showing no signs of panic.

Cen Wu.

"..."

A-Ling bit down on his cigarette and squinted. What could have happened to make him seem like an entirely different person?

Cen Wu left Blue Night and searched the vicinity. He ran into a waiter sneaking a break by the back door, who pointed him in a direction: "Brother Xie? He went that way."

Assuming Xie Guilan was heading back to his rented room, Cen Wu started walking, then began to run, his heart pounding rapidly.

A torrential rain had fallen the night before, and the moonlight had a cold, water-washed quality, casting eerie, shifting shadows at his heels. Cen Wu looked up and finally heard the sounds of an altercation coming from the mouth of an alley.

Cen Wu froze for a moment, intending to rush in, but he stopped halfway. After turning in a circle, he grabbed a steel pipe and cautiously peeked around the corner.

Seven or eight men stood in the alley, their hair dyed in garish colors like possessed feather dusters, led by the man with the tattooed arm.

"We don't want to make things difficult for you, brother," the tattooed leader said, biting on a cigarette. He grabbed Xie Guilan by the collar of his school uniform and slammed him against the wall. "We just want some cigarette money. Why do you have to be so difficult?"

"Exactly," a lackey with yellow hair stepped forward, reaching for Xie Guilan’s backpack. "Be smart and hand over the cash. Don't force our boss to get physical with you."

In the dark, damp, and chilly late-night alley, illuminated only by a dilapidated eave light, Xie Guilan stood his ground. The bruises he had sustained at the horse track were still visible, and his eyes burned with a cold, vicious intensity. His arms hung at his sides, the blue veins bulging, yet he showed no intention of fighting back.

He simply watched as the yellow-haired thug rummaged through his bag.

Few people carried cash these days, and Xie Guilan’s bag contained only a few hundred yuan his boss at the barbecue stall had given him.

The thugs crowded around, disgusted. "Damn, this is all? Is this kid really this broke?"

The tattooed leader grew impatient. He sneered, his eyes narrowing, and raised his hand to strike Xie Guilan across the face.

"L-let him go!" Cen Wu’s heart hammered against his ribs. He charged forward, brandishing the steel pipe. "I’ve called the police!"

The boy had just recovered from a high fever, and his voice was slightly soft and muffled, but the alley was so silent in the dead of night that the leader and his men heard him clearly and turned around. They stood there with cigarettes dangling from their mouths, wearing ripped jeans and heavy chains, their eyes looking particularly savage.

"..."

Cen Wu’s hand trembled, but he continued to walk toward Xie Guilan. With a cold expression, he shoved the tattooed leader’s shoulder, positioning himself between the thugs and Xie Guilan.

"I’ve called the police," Cen Wu said, his calves shaking, though his tone was colder than the moonlight, and his face was stern. "It’s not too late for you to run."

His eyelids were red and damp from his fever, and a fever patch was still stuck to his forehead. Despite his attempt to look fierce, he lacked any real intimidation—he simply had a strikingly beautiful face, and the clothes he wore clearly cost a fortune.

The tattooed leader exchanged looks with his lackeys, and suddenly, they all doubled over in laughter. They didn't believe for a second that Cen Wu would dare call the police. People in this part of town never relied on the police to solve problems. They assumed this was just some sheltered young master who thought a few words could bluff them.

Cen Wu: "..."

He felt deeply insulted.

The identity of the "Second Young Master Cen" meant nothing to these thugs. In any high-end establishment in Huaijing, managers would recognize his face and treat him with the utmost respect, but these local hoodlums had no idea who he was.

"Boss," a green-haired thug waved his hand, "don't waste time talking to them. Just beat them into submission!"

With that, he threw a punch at Cen Wu.

Cen Wu: !!!

They were still attacking even after he’d claimed to call the police? What happened to having some honor?

Cen Wu wasn't actually afraid of a fight—in a real scuffle, they might not necessarily win against him—but he had just been sick, and his legs felt weak, making his reactions sluggish.

As the punch descended, Cen Wu thought he was done for. But after waiting for a moment, the blow never landed.

When he looked up, Xie Guilan had the man by the collar, shoved him aside, and delivered a vicious, precise punch. The thug’s nose began to bleed profusely, and he collapsed to the ground, unable to get back up.

The tattooed leader was driven into a frenzy and charged at Xie Guilan. Xie Guilan’s arms were slender and pale, possessing the lean build typical of a teenager, but his movements were clean and lethal.

He reached out, grabbed the iron chain around the leader’s neck, and jerked it hard. The man was choked instantly; he couldn't even scream, the air forced from his lungs, and he nearly vomited blood.

He scrambled, clutching his throat, trying to flee, but before he could take a step, Xie Guilan wrapped the chain around his knuckles and began to hammer his face, blow by blow, until blood flowed.

Xie Guilan fought with a cold-blooded intensity that seemed to disregard human life. The leader couldn't withstand the onslaught and collapsed to the ground, trembling in agony, his eye sockets throbbing with explosive pain.

A raspy, wheezing sound escaped his throat. He accidentally caught Xie Guilan’s gaze—a pair of eyes so dark and bottomless, they looked like those of an evil spirit.

"..."

The remaining thugs felt their legs go weak. They were used to robbing people and getting into brawls, but they had never seen anything like this. The smell of blood began to permeate the damp air.

*Who the hell gave us that tip?!*

*Didn't they say this kid doesn't fight back?!*

The tattooed leader lay on the ground, his face covered in blood, his body twisted at an odd angle, his chest barely moving. Xie Guilan hadn't let anyone call for help, instilling in them a paralyzing fear that if they died here, no one would ever find them. Their blood seemed to run cold.

But it was too late; none of them had escaped.

The steel pipe Cen Wu had brought went unused; the thugs were already lying all over the ground. Xie Guilan’s eyes were cold and deep, his slender, pale knuckles covered in blood that dripped down the back of his hands.

"Y-you..." Cen Wu’s voice trembled.

Xie Guilan lowered his cold, long eyelashes. He slowly unwound the blood-stained chain, giving Cen Wu a chance to run, but instead, he saw Cen Wu walking toward him on trembling legs.

Cen Wu’s face was pale, and he was clearly shaken. His fingertips curled as he wanted to touch Xie Guilan’s hand but didn't dare.

Those eyes, always misty with moisture, seemed full of fear, yet perhaps they weren't. They held a sense of forgiveness he couldn't understand as he leaned in and asked timidly, "D-does... does your hand hurt?"

Xie Guilan’s movements paused.

Cen Wu’s eyelids were red, the fever patch still on his forehead. He sniffled quietly. After waiting a long time for Xie Guilan to speak, he looked up and saw Xie Guilan mouthing something to him under the light.

Xie Guilan was saying, "Idiot."