Tianjin, starting with unorthodox methods to achieve immortality

After recuperating at the Li family's house for a week, Chen Mo found it hard to stay any longer.

From frugality to luxury is easy, from luxury to frugality.

If he stayed any longer, he was afraid he wouldn't even want to go back to his little villa.

Most importantly, he hasn't dared to go out these past few days, and he even has to sneak around when he's cultivating.

He didn't know whether the inspection bureau had come to keep an eye on things.

But Chen Mo remembered clearly the look Shen Dajiang gave him; it was obvious that he was suspicious.

And then there was that deputy director surnamed Zhou, who said he came to offer his condolences, but the look in his eyes behind his glasses clearly carried another meaning.

For the past week, he hasn't even left the courtyard; his food and drink have all been brought into the room by the maids.

It's time to leave now.

There's another thing I need to do.

Lin Ruoyun.

It's merciful enough that that dead woman lived seven more days.

Chen Mo stood up and packed his luggage into a rattan trunk. Fatty had gone out today, so he didn't have to say goodbye to him.

I pushed open the door; the courtyard was quiet.

The moonlight was red, pouring down from above, turning the stone table and benches a dark red.

Two faint barks could be heard in the distance, but then silence fell.

It was very quiet.

The maid was nowhere to be found, and the steward, Old Wu, was also absent.

Chen Mo walked out along the corridor, passed through two moon gates, and arrived at the front yard.

The fat man's car was parked behind the screen wall; it was a black Ford.

Mr. Liu was leaning against the front of the car smoking when he saw him come out. He quickly threw the cigarette butt on the ground and crushed it out with his foot.

"Is Mr. Chen leaving now?"

"Um."

......

The car wasn't moving fast; there were still quite a few pedestrians on the street at this hour.

There was a braised food stall on the street corner ahead, with a kerosene lamp hanging above it. The light was dim and yellow, but it was overshadowed by the moonlight, turning into a pale yellow in the dark red.

The stall owner was chopping something with his head down. The knife fell onto the cutting board with a crisp clang.

Chen Mo leaned against the window, frowning as he peered outside.

After leaving the Li family, he always felt like there was a pair of eyes watching him from the shadows, but he couldn't find where those eyes were coming from.

Master Liu glanced at him in the rearview mirror.

It was a bit strange that this guy chose to go out at this time, but he didn't say anything and just kept driving forward with the steering wheel in hand.

The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs, the rumbling sound carrying far into the night.

After looking at the street scene for a while, Chen Mo got a little tired of it, leaned back in his seat, and closed his eyes to rest.

The car turned the corner of East Street and drove forward for about the time it takes to smoke a cigarette.

"Strange, there's not a single person on the street."

Master Liu muttered something, not loudly, but enough to alert Chen Mo.

"What's wrong?"

"I clearly saw several people walk by just now," Mr. Liu said, his voice a little strained. "But then they disappeared around the corner?"

Chen Mo opened his eyes and looked out the car window.

The street, which was bustling with pedestrians in the first half, is now completely deserted.

The shops on both sides were closed, their doors dark and gloomy, gleaming a dark red in the moonlight.

Upon closer inspection, the colors of the door panels seemed a bit off.

It's so old, it looks like no one has driven it for decades.

Some of the door panels still had faded paper strips pasted on them, the writing long since blurred and illegible.

"Wait a minute, Mr. Chen..." Driver Liu in the front lowered his voice, as if afraid of being overheard, "Didn't we just drive past this street?"

Chen Mo frowned. "What?"

"Look at that telephone pole," he gestured with his chin, not daring to point, "the plaster on it, the one with red paper and black writing, we saw it when we passed by just now."

Chen Mo followed his gaze.

There was indeed a plaster stuck to the telephone pole, its surface reddish in the moonlight, next to it...