"Daoist Master, that kid is seriously weird. Should I get you some backup?" Harvey Yang's suited subordinate asked, glancing over.
This Daoist was someone Harvey Yang had tracked down from deep in the mountains of Whitewood County—a guy rumored to command ghosts and spirits. In Whitewood, the deeper you go into the hills, the stranger the local customs get.
Most of the old folks around here buy into this stuff. There's even an Old Immortal Sage up in the mountains. He used to be a cowherd, but one day he took a nap in a tree, dreamed an immortal visited him, and woke up able to tell fortunes.
He could see through illusions too. Once, when a house was haunted by a kid crying at night, the Old Immortal Sage went toe-to-toe with a wild ghost for a whole day and night before finally subduing it.
Stories like that spread all over the countryside in Whitewood County. Plenty of villagers showed up at his door hoping for a fortune reading.
Harvey Yang never believed any of it. Ghosts and gods? Nah—he only trusted cash and power. Money talks, that’s the real deal.
But after that run-in with the female ghost, Harvey had no choice but to believe. That’s why he sent the suited guy to invite the Old Immortal Sage from the mountains.
Thing is, the Old Immortal Sage is supposedly over a hundred now and doesn’t come out anymore. He sent his disciple—the Daoist—instead.
At this, the Daoist shot the suited man a cold, sideways look, lips curling into a sneer. "Backup? What good would your guys do? I’m not as skilled as my master, but dealing with ordinary ghosts is a breeze!"
He stood there, hands behind his back, looking supremely arrogant—almost like he really had that immortal air about him.
"Daoist Master, it's not that I don't believe you—it's just that guy is seriously tough," the suited man said with a wry grin. "He took down dozens of my guys by himself, and we still have no clue how he did it."
"If your master, the Old Immortal Sage, came himself, this would be a piece of cake. But you alone..."
Both the suited man and Harvey Yang looked at the Daoist, worry written all over their faces.
Truth was, neither of them fully believed him yet.
"Fine, let me show you what I can do!" The Daoist snorted coldly, pulling a yellow brocade pouch from his belt. Strange talismans were drawn all over it.
He started muttering incantations, then glanced at the suited man and Harvey Yang. "Go shut all the windows and curtains."
Harvey Yang and the suited man didn’t dare hesitate. They quickly closed all the doors and windows, then turned back to watch.
"Watch closely!" The Daoist gave a cold snort and let go of the pouch.
In an instant, a surge of black qi shot out from the pouch, rushing up toward the ceiling.
At first, Harvey Yang and the suited man just stared at the black mist, puzzled. But the next second, as it started to change shape, their faces went pale, their legs gave out, and they collapsed to the floor.
"Daoist Master, you’re incredible!"
Both Harvey Yang and the suited man were terrified, kneeling on the ground and totally convinced.
Harvey Yang's face twisted with rage. "He beat up my sons and wrecked my project! That punk doesn’t deserve to live!"
"Now that you believe, just bring him here. Should I go find him, or make him come to me? This technique isn’t for crowds—if I use it in public, my master will chew me out." The Daoist looked arrogant and asked coolly.
"Don’t worry, Daoist Master. I know exactly how to draw him out—he’s got a mom who works at Whitewood Elementary..." The suited man grinned, eyes flashing coldly.
...
Afternoon, outside Whitewood Elementary School.
"Joy, about what I mentioned last night—think it over, okay? If we open another class, you won’t have to worry about finding students, and you can save more money for Evan Lin."
"Plus, Evan’s about to head to college. You’ll need money for everything then, right? Making a little extra is always a good thing."
Flora Huang pushed her electric scooter, walking out the school gate with Joy Zheng, grinning as she looked at Joy.
"I still need to think it over," Joy Zheng said, clearly hesitant.
"Of course, take your time. But I hope you’ll decide soon—lots of math teachers want to work with me." Flora Huang smiled, clearly giving Joy an ultimatum. After all, her husband Victor Deng is the Education Bureau director, so teaming up with her is way less risky.
Just as Flora was about to leave, she suddenly turned back, sounding all earnest: "Joy, Evan’s a senior now. You should tell him to focus up, quit chasing after impossible stuff. Life’s better when you keep your feet on the ground."
Last night, after getting home, Flora had asked Victor Deng why Secretary Liu had gone out of his way to see Evan Lin, but Victor didn’t know either—he just said Evan seemed close to a younger girl related to Liu Tangguo.
Flora figured Secretary Liu must’ve driven out to warn Evan off his relative.
Basically, Liu Tangguo wanted Evan to stop dragging Selina Shi down. Once Flora realized that, her opinion of Evan dropped even lower.
"Ms. Huang, what do you mean by that?" Joy Zheng asked, confused.
"Oh, nothing, just talking. I’ll head off—don’t forget to come to class tonight." Flora laughed it off, hopped onto her shiny new electric scooter, and sped away.
Flora’s last words left Joy feeling stifled. She got on her beat-up old bike, planning to ask Evan what really happened when she got home.
Up ahead at the intersection, a white van suddenly pulled in front of her.
The white van screeched to a stop—Joy Zheng barely had time to brake and almost crashed into it. Just as she was catching her breath, the van’s door slid open and several burly, vicious-looking men jumped out. Grinning menacingly, they moved to grab Joy and drag her into the van.
Suddenly, their movements froze.
Not far away, a thin boy with a backpack stood beneath a sparse pine tree, watching the scene with calm, distant eyes. He let out a quiet sigh.
Who knows if he was sighing about the summer heat, or about how some people just don’t get the value of life.
Mere ants, yet they dare to shake the sun and moon.
Pathetic.