Translator: CinderTL
Looking back, the alley they had come through had vanished, replaced by a tavern with a few scattered tables of patrons.
A waiter with a rag draped over his shoulder was busy refilling teacups and pouring water, his face plastered with a servile smile.
The street was bustling with activity. The setting sun cast long shadows, marking the busiest time of day. Vendors, eager to pack up and head home, shouted loudly, hoping to sell their remaining goods quickly.
Just as everyone's tense nerves began to relax slightly, Chen Qiang's body swayed violently before he collapsed to the ground.
Pi Ruan's face turned deathly pale at the sight. His mouth opened, but no sound emerged.
Contrary to expectations, Chen Qiang didn't die instantly, transforming into a corpse with a sinister grin.
From everyone's perspective, his eyes were tightly shut, his body convulsing violently. His chest heaved rapidly, his breath coming in short, shallow gasps.
He wasn't dead, but seemed to have used some unknown method to forcibly break free from the Nightmare, suffering a severe backlash as a result.
"Remarkable," Zhao Xingguo murmured, his tone a mixture of admiration and something else entirely. "I didn't expect this young man to possess such skills."
His words were clearly directed at Jiang Cheng. Luo He was a member of the Night Watcher, so his methods were not surprising, but Jiang Cheng and his companions also appeared to be no ordinary individuals.
"Hey! What's going on here?" Seeing someone fall, a woman approached from across the street. She was a sweet potato vendor whose stall was not far from them.
Her face was dark, and fine wrinkles crinkled around her eyes. She squatted down, first wiping her ash-covered hands on her apron before nudging Chen Qiang. "Wake up! Are you alright?"
Chen Qiang was curled up in a ball, as if enduring immense pain.
Soon, more people gathered around. Some were kind-hearted passersby, while others were vendors like the sweet potato seller, who had stalls nearby.
Finally, even the tavern owner rushed out, shouting, "Whose sickly ghost is this? Get him out of here! Don't ruin my business!"
The tavern owner waved her hand dismissively, her expression fierce.
"How can you say such things? The man is clearly very ill," a young woman retorted immediately. "Don't you have any compassion?"
"All I want is to make money," the Boss said, her eyelids fluttering as if a sudden thought had struck her. Crossing her arms, she added sarcastically, "If you're so protective of him, why don't you just take this pretty boy home? I'm starting to wonder if you two are having an affair."
"You're talking nonsense!" The woman was both furious and flustered. If someone hadn't intervened, they would have come to blows.
At that moment, the first old woman who had appeared noticed Jiang Cheng and his companions. They weren't far away, only about five or six meters.
The old woman's cloudy eyes scanned Jiang Cheng from head to toe. After a few seconds, she asked tentatively, "Young man, do you know him...?"
"No," Jiang Cheng replied curtly.
At Jiang Cheng's answer, Fatty's face twitched. Then, as if realizing something, he glanced around with a hint of wariness, his thick neck retracting slightly.
But after scanning the surroundings for a long time, he found nothing amiss.
Everyone nearby was occupied with their own business. The tavern's patrons were in high spirits, and peanut shells littered the tables.
Vendors haggling with customers surrounded them. An old sugar figurine craftsman, his skill truly remarkable, had just bent down to hand his creation to a child whose face was lit with adoration.
From Fatty's perspective, he could even feel the genuine joy radiating from the child as he received the sugar figurine.
Could all this...
"Oh dear, what are we going to do?" The kind-hearted woman knelt before Chen Qiang, whose face was contorted in pain, her expression filled with concern. After a moment, she looked up at Jiang Cheng and the others with pleading eyes. "How about this? Could you lend a hand? My body hasn't been the same since I fell ill a few years ago. I can't exert myself too much. Could you help me carry him to my place nearby? There's a folk doctor there who might be able to help."
Her eyes were earnest, and Fatty found himself momentarily dazed by their sincerity.
Just as his consciousness began to fade, his mouth opening instinctively to agree, a sharp pain shot through his arm.
Startled back to reality, he realized Pi Ruan was gripping his arm tightly.
Feeling Fatty's puzzled gaze, Pi Ruan forced a bitter smile, his trembling lips squeezing out a few words: "I... I'm scared, Brother Fugui. You can't leave me behind."
Before he could dwell on it, a familiar voice, tinged with aloofness, cut through the air. "We don't even know him. Why should we help?" Jiang Cheng asked matter-of-factly.
"This is about saving a life! He's still one of our own people," the woman who had nearly come to blows with the tavern owner over her damaged reputation said angrily. She seemed to lump Jiang Cheng and the tavern owner together as selfish, self-serving individuals.
"Yeah, it's not like we're asking you to do much. Just help carry him," someone nearby chimed in casually. "Think of it as doing a good deed."
Jiang Cheng glanced at the speaker and replied in a voice that was anything but choked, "Then you do it." Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked around the crowd, leaving them behind.
Chen Qiang remained on the ground, still twitching occasionally.
After walking some distance, they turned a corner. The instant their figures disappeared around the corner, the street they had just walked down fell eerily silent.
No, "silent" wasn't the right word. It was more like... deadly silent!
Pedestrians on the sidewalks, the merchants who had been haggling over prices, the men inside the tavern playing drinking games, the beggar at the alley entrance—even the kind old woman and the righteous young woman from earlier—all froze in place simultaneously. They turned their heads, their gazes stiff and fixed on the direction Jiang Cheng and the others had vanished. Dozens, even hundreds, of eyes locked on the same spot, creating an eerie and unsettling scene.
A moment later, as if a switch had been flipped, grotesque smiles spread across their faces.
Fatty swallowed hard, his mind racing with questions. He wanted to ask the Doctor many things, but with Zhao Xingguo and Fu Fu flanking him, some questions felt inappropriate to ask directly.
He was particularly curious: Why had the Doctor immediately concluded that something was wrong with Chen Qiang after he collapsed?
At least until now, aside from the somewhat extreme reactions of those around them, Fatty hadn't noticed anything particularly amiss.
"It's not Chen Qiang's fault," a voice drifted in.
Fatty froze, then slowly turned to see Lin Wan'er's profile. "The problem is that street. We've seen everyone who was there."
"In the photos on the wall of the photography studio," Lin Wan'er said, her voice cold and devoid of emotion.
(End of the Chapter)
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