For thirty years, he has roamed the Northeast, his divine might overwhelming all immortals under hea

"That fat guy surnamed Zhao? Does he deserve it?"

Huang Dalang chuckled.

"This kind of scheme is extremely insidious, like bait casually scattered, or... simply a 'work' concocted by some bored bastard."

"work?"

This word sent a chill down my spine.

"Absolutely!"

Huang Dalang clicked his tongue, his tone carrying a hint of apprehension.

"Some people who practice evil ways, or are simply twisted individuals, enjoy doing these kinds of despicable things. They find a place where yin energy easily gathers and causes trouble, give it a little 'push' or plant some bait, and watch the resentment grow, watch innocent people get caught up in it, struggle and die tragically. They hide in the shadows and watch with amusement, calling it 'raising Gu' or 'observing the calamity,' but it's just fucking perverted! When we broke the deadlock just now, didn't Liu Ruoyun also say that she felt there was something else 'entangled' in that vengeful spirit? Although we wiped it all out, the one who planted the bait must have sensed that the deadlock has been broken by now."

I subconsciously touched the envelope in my pocket; the three thousand yuan felt a little too hot to handle at that moment.

"Brother Dalang, you mean... now that I've broken this trap, the person who set it up might be watching me?"

"Being targeted?"

Huang Dalang chuckled, his laughter sounding particularly eerie in the quiet alley.

"Maybe they've already 'set their sights' on this place. We've ruined their fun and overturned their chessboard. Judging by the behavior of these scoundrels, they'll either find you amusing and want to play with you, or they'll find you in their way and want to 'raise' you into the next game. Thirteen, you've made money this time, but you've probably gotten yourself into trouble too."

As soon as Huang Dalang finished speaking, my stomach rumbled and I started thinking about the Empty City Stratagem.

After all that fuss, my chest is practically glued to my back.

He touched the envelope in his pocket; it contained a hard, solid three thousand yuan.

I licked my chapped lips, and the chill that had risen in my heart from being "targeted" was somewhat diluted by the more real hunger.

"Big Wave Bro".

"No matter what kind of crap it is, even the emperor doesn't starve his soldiers. Let's find a place to satisfy our hunger and splurge for once! After that, we'll find a roadside inn in the county town to rest for the night. Tomorrow, we'll buy some cloth for my father, my mother, and... Xiulian, and some decent stuff."

Xiulian is my future wife. Although the marriage was arranged by my parents and went through some twists and turns, my parents still think highly of Xiulian.

Of course, I also quite like Xiulian.

Huang Dalang scoffed on my shoulder, which was taken as tacit approval.

In our line of work, we can't always be on edge. We need to eat and drink as we please, and be flexible and adaptable.

Walking along the stone-paved road out of the county town, at this time, the state-run restaurants have long since closed, and you can only look for small private restaurants.

Just as I turned out of the alley, a person slowly walked towards me.

He was an old man.

He was wearing an old dark blue Zhongshan suit, buttoned up meticulously, with a matching Liberation cap on his head, and a jujube wood cane that had been polished to a shine.

He looked to be over seventy, but his face had a strange rosy glow, and his steps were steady, unlike the usual frail old man.

He walked straight towards me and stopped in front of me.

"Young Master."

He spoke, his voice not loud, but it carried a penetrating force like the clash of metal and stone, making my eardrums itch slightly.

"Wait a moment."

I was taken aback. Was this how they addressed each other as colleagues?

But looking at him, there was no smell of incense, nor the "aura" that people in our line of work often carry.

The old man's cloudy yet clear eyes swept across my face twice, as if brushed with a soft brush, which made me feel uneasy.

"Grandpa, what can I do for you?"

"I was taking a stroll and noticed that your face was pale, but there was a faint red glow emerging from your forehead. Interesting."

He grinned, revealing a few strong, yellow teeth.

"On a whim, I'll give you two pieces of advice; whether you listen to them or not is up to you."

I instinctively clasped my hands in a fist salute.

"Please speak, sir."

The old man tapped the ground lightly with his cane, speaking slowly and deliberately.

"The Heavenly Pardon in your destiny is an auspicious configuration, signifying turning misfortune into good fortune and overcoming adversity. Unfortunately, it is afflicted by the uncontrolled Seven Killings, like a wild horse without reins. Good fortune hides misfortune, and misfortune carries danger. Young man, your wealth comes quickly but goes even faster, often accompanied by bloodshed and injury. Recently, have you disturbed the 'earth' that you shouldn't have disturbed, or severed the 'thread' that you shouldn't have severed?"

My heart skipped a beat.

Who is this old man? He just spouts nonsense.

Before I could think about it, the old man finished speaking, leaned on his cane, turned around and left, his steps still unhurried.

"Hey! Sir! Please wait a moment. What do you mean by that? Please enlighten me..."

I quickly caught up with him and asked.

The old man seemed not to hear, and his figure quickly disappeared into an even darker alley ahead, so that even the sound of his footsteps could not be heard.

I stood under the streetlight, a chill running down my spine.

I wanted to ask Huang Dalang for his opinion, but I felt that the aura of the immortal on my shoulder was a bit strange.

Normally, when Huang Dalang possesses or communicates with others, he always carries the mischievous and restless energy unique to weasels. But at this moment, his aura is excessively calm, even a little tense.

"Brother Big Wave?"

I called his name in my heart.

Several breaths later, Huang Dalang's voice finally rang out, low and heavy with a sense of dread I had never heard before.

"Thirteen, don't speak, and don't chase after them."

"What's wrong? Is there something wrong with that old man?"

"This is a huge problem." Huang Dalang's voice sounded like it was being squeezed out between his teeth.

"Didn't you notice just now? That old man didn't have a shadow."

My hair stood on end instantly, and my back was covered in cold sweat.

Since there's no shadow, it means this old man isn't human!

"Not only is there no shadow."

Huang Dalang continued, speaking very quickly.

"The energy around him was as steady as a mountain, yet as deep as a bottomless pit. I didn't even dare to breathe loudly just now, for fear of being 'seen' by him. This is not an ordinary wandering ghost, nor even something that should exist on our earthly ground. He pointed out your fate, and we still don't know his intention, but I feel that we've really messed up a lot with what happened at the hotel."

The night wind swept through the empty streets, swirling up scraps of paper on the ground and making a rustling sound, like countless whispers.

The three thousand yuan in my arms felt heavy, and my earlier plans to buy things for my family and get floral fabric for Xiulian suddenly turned cold.

I touched the hard envelope in my pocket, and then I remembered the old man's words, "Wealth comes quickly and goes even faster, often accompanied by bloodshed and injury." My throat felt a little dry.

"Big Wave Bro".

"So, are we still going to eat this meal?"

Huang Dalang was silent for a moment, then chuckled dryly twice, but there was no warmth in his laughter.

"Eat! Why not eat? Even our last meal has to be a good one! Find a restaurant, pick the fatty stuff! Damn it, if it's a blessing in disguise, we men have to die well-fed!"

After Huang Dalang uttered that "you gluttonous devil," neither of us said another word.

The cool night breeze brushed against my neck, but the hunger in my stomach burned even brighter.

Forget about the Shadowless Old Man or the Seven Killings Fate, filling my stomach is the priority.

After walking another hundred meters or so along the stone-paved road, I turned past the dark facade of the supply and marketing cooperative and saw a dim light bulb sticking out at the entrance of the alley. Under it hung a wooden sign with the four words "Weimin Restaurant" written in red paint, some of the paint of which was peeling off.

It was run by a sole proprietorship; the storefront was narrow, and the windows were covered with plastic sheeting, which had turned yellow from the fumes.

Lifting the heavy cotton curtain, a wave of heat mixed with cooking fumes, stew, and cheap tobacco hit you.

The room wasn't big; there were only four square tables with peeling paint and a few long benches.

At this hour, there are still two tables occupied.

At one table sat two men in blue work clothes, eating a plate of peanuts and a plate of braised pig's head, drinking bulk liquor in silence and chatting about shift work at the factory.

At the other table was a bespectacled man who looked like a cadre, slowly and methodically eating a bowl of noodles with oil floating on top.

I chose an empty table against the inner wall and sat down.

The table was greasy, so I scraped it off with my fingernail; there was a thick layer of grease.

A middle-aged woman wearing a white apron and blue cloth sleeves emerged from the kitchen behind the house, her face showing the weariness of staying up all night and the warmth of a businessman.

"Comrade, what would you like to eat? There's a stove, so cooking will be quick."

I glanced at the red paper menu pasted on the wall; the calligraphy was crooked and messy.

Pork stew with vermicelli, 80 cents; stir-fried tofu with green peppers, 40 cents; shredded potatoes, 30 cents; rice, 15 cents a bowl; steamed buns, 5 cents each. There's also a small note: Braised pork available today (limited quantity).

"Give me a serving of braised pork, a serving of pork stew with vermicelli, and two steamed buns."

I gritted my teeth and decided to go all in on the extravagance.

With three thousand dollars on hand, eating meat isn't too much to ask.

Normally, we only get to eat meat during holidays and festivals when we're at home.

"Wow, what a generous young man!"

The female shopkeeper's smile became more genuine, and she called out to the kitchen.

"One serving of braised pork belly, and one serving of stewed glass noodles!"

Then he turned to ask me.

"Want some liquor? We have bulk sorghum liquor and bottled 'Beidacang' liquor, it's 1.2 yuan."

"Two drinks, please."

These two glasses of wine are not for me to drink, but for Huang Dalang.

"Alright!"

While waiting for the food, I subconsciously took a look around the small restaurant.

The lights were dim, and the light bulbs were covered with fly droppings and grease.

Besides the menu, there were also several New Year pictures and yellowed propaganda posters of "Five Stresses, Four Beauties, and Three Loves" on the wall.

Huang Dalang's aura remained heavy, as if he was still on guard against something.

I couldn't help but recall the words of the shadowy old man, and the chilling, resentful atmosphere in Boss Zhao's hotel. My fingers unconsciously twirled a solidified grease stain on the corner of the table.

"Thirteen."

Huang Dalang's voice suddenly rang in my mind, extremely low.

"Take a look at the guy at the table on your right, by the window."

My heart skipped a beat, and I turned my head to look casually.

The man, who looked like an official, was in his early forties, wearing a gray polyester shirt and black-rimmed glasses, and was slowly picking out noodles.

It doesn't look particularly special.

But following Huang Dalang's advice, I focused my attention slightly and used the corner of my eye to "see".

Upon seeing this, a chill ran down my spine. The "yang fire" on the man's head and shoulders was much weaker than that of an ordinary person, especially the one on his left shoulder, which was flickering and about to go out, and its color was also tinged with an ominous gray.

This is not simply a matter of physical weakness or bad luck; it's more like being "suppressed" or having one's vital energy "borrowed" by something for a long time.

Moreover, there seemed to be a faint, almost imperceptible "aura" surrounding him. That aura felt somewhat familiar to me, and it seemed to have a subtle resemblance to the "other thing" that Liu Ruoyun had pointed out about the vengeful spirit in Boss Zhao's hotel, but it was more subtle and lingering.

He seemed to notice my gaze, lifted his eyelids, and glanced in my direction.

The eyes behind the lenses lacked vitality and even appeared somewhat empty.

He nodded slightly to me as a greeting, then lowered his head to continue eating his noodles.

"You figured it out?"

"Hmm, the yang energy is weak, especially in the left shoulder, as if it's been haunted by something. There's also a 'smell' about the body."

I answered in my heart.

"It's not a coincidence."

Huang Dalang's voice was deep.

"This county town isn't big. We just broke up Boss Zhao's hotel trap, and right here in this small restaurant we ran into someone with a kind of 'mark' on him. It's very faint, but it can't fool us."

"Brother Dalang, what do you think...?"

"What the hell! Let's eat first!"

Huang Dalang interrupted me.

"If he's a fox, his tail will show sooner or later. What can he tell you if you go ask him now? You'll only alert him. Fill your stomach and get some rest so you can deal with the trouble that's about to happen."

At this moment, the female shopkeeper brought up the dishes.

A large bowl of glistening, reddish-brown braised pork belly, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, trembled slightly, and the aroma of the sauce was irresistible.

The other bowl was a steaming bowl of pork stew with vermicelli. The cabbage, pork belly, and vermicelli were stewed until very tender, and topped with some chopped green onions.

The two white steamed buns were big and fluffy.

There were also two glasses of baijiu (Chinese liquor), which tasted quite strong.

"Enjoy your meal, comrade!"

The female innkeeper put down the dishes and brought over a pot of hot water and a chipped enamel mug.

Hunger completely took over, and I didn't care about anything else. I picked up the steamed bun, broke it open, stuffed in a large piece of braised pork, and took a big bite.

The richness of the fat, the saltiness of the soy sauce, and the savory flavor of the pork burst in your mouth, and the steamed bun, mixed with the aroma of wheat, brings a real sense of happiness, temporarily dispelling the gloom in your heart.

I scooped up another spoonful of stewed glass noodles. The noodles were soaked in the broth, making them smooth and delicious, while the cabbage was soft, tender, and sweet.

I picked up my glass and downed a mouthful of baijiu. It burned my throat.

My whole body started to feel warm.

I wolfed down my food, and sweat soon appeared on my forehead.

Huang Dalang attached himself to me and ate with great relish.

The taste of the baijiu (Chinese liquor) in particular satisfied him.

"This wine has some strength."

Just as I was concentrating on finishing my second steamed bun with meat, I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye that the bespectacled cadre had already finished his noodles.

He took out a few small bills and grain coupons, placed them on the table, weighed them down with a bowl, then stood up, picked up the gray coat hanging on the back of the chair, and slowly put it on.

He moved somewhat slowly. After getting dressed, he didn't leave immediately but stood there, tilting his head slightly as if hesitating for a moment.

Then, he turned around and walked straight towards my table.

With food still in my mouth, my movements unconsciously slowed down, and all the muscles in my body quietly tensed up.

He stood by my table, his face expressionless, his eyes behind his glasses looking at me, yet seemingly not fully focused on me.

"Young comrade."

He spoke, his voice a little hoarse, and his pace slow.

"Excuse me. You look unfamiliar; you're not from this county town, are you?"

I put down the steamed bun and wiped the oil off my mouth with my sleeve.

"Yes, I'm from Zhujiakan, here to take care of some business."

"Oh……"

He nodded, remained silent for a few seconds, and then suddenly asked a seemingly unrelated question.

"Stay at the inn tonight?"

"Yes, let's find a roadside inn to spend the night."

He nodded again, his eyes darting around, as if talking to himself, or perhaps to me.

"A hotel is fine. Just make sure the door is locked at night. The county town hasn't been very peaceful these past few years."

Without waiting for my response, he turned and walked towards the door, lifted the cotton curtain, and disappeared into the darkness outside.

A gust of cold wind blew in as the curtain fell, causing the light bulb to sway slightly and the shadows on the wall to distort.

As I watched the direction he disappeared in, I suddenly found myself unable to swallow the meat in my mouth.

What does he mean?

I asked Huang Dalang in my heart.

Huang Dalang was silent for a moment, then snorted.

"Hmph, a reminder? Or a test? Carrying that kind of 'mark' on you, yet you're here to remind others to lock their doors at night? Interesting."