Full-Time Magister: Rebirth of Mo Fan as the Primordial Evil Phoenix

Chapter 47 Dongting Lake

The next morning, Mo Fan was woken up by Lingling's phone call.

He groped around on the pillow with his eyes closed for a long time, and when he found his phone, he almost threw it away.

As soon as the call connected, a clear, ringing voice came through the receiver.

"Get up, let's go."

Mo Fan sat up in bed with messy hair, still not fully awake, his voice heavy with sleepiness.

Do you know what time it is?

"I know." Lingling paused for a moment. "That's why I'm calling you."

Mo Fan was silent for two seconds, then looked down at the time and almost choked on his breath.

"Six-thirty?!"

"Um.

"Lingling, this isn't just being dedicated, this is murder."

The faint sounds of packing came from the other end of the phone; Lingling was clearly too lazy to respond to his nonsense.

"The bounty has been increased by 50."

Upon hearing this, Mo Fan's drowsiness vanished almost entirely.

"I'll be there right away."

Lingling replied casually, "I'll cancel the commission if it's past the allotted time."

After saying that, he hung up the phone.

Mo Fan stared blankly at his phone for two seconds before muttering a curse under his breath.

"Hmph, who are you threatening? Don't I know you well enough to know?"

Despite saying that, he didn't slow down at all. He quickly washed his face, put on his clothes, and rushed out.

When we got downstairs, Lingling was already standing by the roadside.

She carried the small bag on her back, her pigtails were neatly tied, and her expression was as aloof as ever, as if she had already gone through the day's events in her mind.

Mo Fan glanced at her and couldn't help but click his tongue.

"The way you're acting... it's like you're going to raid someone's house."

Lingling glanced at him.

"It's better than you."

Mo Fan glanced down at himself.

T-shirt, jacket, sweatpants—I didn't see anything wrong with it.

"What's wrong with me? I'm just being spontaneous."

"He looks like he just came out of an internet cafe after staying up all night."

Mo Fan's lips twitched, and he decisively gave up on discussing aesthetics with her.

The two traveled to the outer perimeter of Dongting Lake.

The further we went, the thicker the fog became. By the time we got really close to that body of water, it was already getting light, but a thick layer of white mist still floated on the lake. From a distance, the water and the shore almost blended into one, with no clear boundary.

Mo Fan subconsciously slowed his pace and glanced around.

"No wonder something happened," he said in a low voice. "This place doesn't look like a safe haven."

The muddy bank was wet, soft, and black; when you stepped on it, your shoes would sink half an inch. Patches of reeds were bent low by the moisture, and a few winding, shallow ditches were a little further away.

Lingling had already squatted down and started examining the remaining traces on the shore.

Mo Fan wanted to say a few more jokes, but seeing her serious expression, he stopped and slowly walked around the neighborhood.

Not long after, Lingling suddenly spoke.

"Come and take a look."

Mo Fan walked over and looked in the direction she was pointing.

There was a very shallow indentation on the muddy ground, which stretched quite far. The edges were soggy from being soaked in water that it was almost invisible unless you looked closely.

The trail stretched out from the shore and finally disappeared into a patch of dark-colored water plants.

Mo Fan squatted down and reached out to touch the wet mud; his fingertips felt cold and sticky.

He followed the trail and looked ahead, his nonchalant expression gradually fading.

Mo Fan whispered, "Will this thing go ashore?"

Lingling nodded.

Mo Fan stood up, looked around, and suddenly frowned.

"It's too quiet here."

Lingling turned her head to look at him.

"You noticed it too?"

Mo Fan nodded.

Logically speaking, no matter how remote a place is, it shouldn't be completely silent. There should be birdsong, insect chirps, or the faint sounds of low-level demons. But from the moment they stepped onto this shallow beach, the surroundings became eerily quiet, with no sound other than the rustling of the wind through the reeds.

It was as if the entire area was being suppressed by something.

Mo Fan gazed at the lake shrouded in mist and gave a slight smile.

"Looks like those eight million won't be easy to get."

Lingling didn't respond.

The morning mist floated on the water, and the shallows were as still as a dead mirror.

But the more it's like this, the more it makes one feel that something is hidden underneath, motionless on the bottom of the water, silently staring at the shore through this layer of gray-white mist.

Lingling didn't linger and continued walking along the shore to a deeper area.

Mo Fan followed behind her, his feet sinking into the soft, damp mud, making dull, sticky sounds that made him feel uncomfortable.

"How big is this thing exactly?" Mo Fan asked.

"It's hard to say right now." Lingling walked along, observing her surroundings. "But it's definitely not small, and it's very patient."

Mo Fan clicked his tongue.

"I hate people who like to scheme against others the most."

Lingling didn't even look up.

"People like you should be considered to repel each other."

Mo Fan was speechless.

"I call it tactical flexibility, don't categorize it randomly."

Lingling was too lazy to argue with him and simply replied with two words.

"almost."

The two continued along the shallows, and the further they went, the denser the seaweed became, and the more chaotic the shore became. Before long, Lingling suddenly stopped.

"here."

Mo Fan looked up.

Ahead was a shallow, semi-recessed bay, with several blackened logs lying across the bank. The water was mostly obscured by floating leaves and aquatic plants, preventing light from penetrating and making it appear gloomy, as if something was buried beneath.

"It doesn't look like a nice place," Mo Fan said.

Lingling had already squatted down, took out a small detector from her bag, and scanned the ground and the area around the broken wood.

A moment later, several sets of messy data appeared on the instrument.

"Is there any lingering demonic energy?" Mo Fan leaned closer.

"Yes, but very faint." Lingling stared at the screen. "It must have been dispersed many times by the moisture here."

Mo Fan didn't speak, but simply reached out and touched the edge of the broken wood.

My fingertips quickly became covered in a layer of damp, sticky mud.

Looking further down, on the side closer to the water's surface, there were several shallow scratch marks, rough and messy, as if something with a hard outer shell had slowly slid past here.

Mo Fan's gaze darkened.

"The drag marks match the previous ones, so it should be the same demon."

Lingling nodded gently, stood up, and stared at the water surface covered by floating leaves. She paused for a few seconds before continuing, "And it seems more like the type that can stay close to the shore for a long time, is used to lying in wait, and has a very fast burst speed."

After hearing this, Mo Fan twitched the corner of his mouth.

"Your description covers a fairly broad range."

"There wasn't much left at the scene to begin with." Lingling glanced at him. "If you can find it, I can categorize it precisely for you right now."

Mo Fan was immediately delighted.

"Easier said than done, why don't you go catch it yourself?"

"Because I don't want to be dragged into this."

Mo Fan clearly didn't want to continue the conversation. Instead, he looked down at the messy traces by the water and suddenly asked, "Where did the last hunting team encounter their accident?"

Lingling brought up the map and tapped it.

"It's not far from here, about two hundred meters to the east."

"The body wasn't found?"

"We didn't find anything complete," Lingling said. "We only recovered some bloodstained equipment fragments."

Mo Fan looked at the lifeless shallow bay in front of him and said in a deep voice, "We have to force it out."

Lingling looked up at him.

"That's what I think too."

"Do you have a plan?"

"Yes, and it's not complicated." Lingling put away the map. "Since it likes to ambush on the shore, let's give it a chance."

Mo Fan understood her meaning almost instantly and pointed to himself.

"I?"

Lingling nodded as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Could it be me?"

Mo Fan's lips twitched.

"The way you're talking makes it sound like you'd already made up your mind?"

"Because there's no one else but you," Lingling said disdainfully. "Besides, didn't you just get the spirit seed yesterday? You're itching to get your hands on it, aren't you?"

Mo Fan had originally intended to feign a few words of refusal, but upon hearing this, he immediately perked up.

"That's true."

He clenched his fist, as if recalling the feeling of holding that fire stick in his hand yesterday.

That thing is quite easy to snatch.

Seeing his eager expression, Lingling added, "If you're too overconfident and get dragged down by it, I can't save you."

Mo Fan snorted.

"Don't worry, I'm very resilient."

"People who say this usually die pretty quickly," Lingling said calmly.

"Can't you wish me well for once?"

"I'm just reminding you."

"I think you're cursing me."

As they talked, the two of them re-examined the last remaining traces along the shoreline.