Chapter 31.4: The Vanishing

Tan Yunlong pulled a small plastic bag from his pocket. Inside was a chunk of jelly-like substance. Shielding it from outside view, he slipped it into Li Zhuiyuan’s pocket.

“Promise me, don’t eat it. Might be poisonous.”

“I won’t. Still, Uncle Tan, you’re really straightforward.”

“There’s a whole lump of it in the tank. Giving you one piece is no big deal.”

“What? You already fished it out?” Li Sanjiang had barely finished a cigarette and now saw the task was done. He could only mutter, “Looks like the bumpkin's teaching has some merit.”

“Great-Grandpa, Runsheng and I will take the tricycle back first.”

“Since it’s all wrapped up, I’ll go with you too. That motorcycle’s murder on my rear.”

“You can’t leave, Great-Grandpa. Officer Tan wants you to stay and help examine the corpse. It’s been soaked in muddy water—you have the experience.”

Tan Yunlong gave Li Zhuiyuan a puzzled look. Autopsies were for forensic professionals.

Still, he removed his gloves and took Li Sanjiang’s hand. “Yes, sir, please stay and help us analyze this. I’ll drive you home myself when we’re done.”

“Well, alright then.”

“Great-Grandpa, we’re heading out.”

“Be careful, both of you. Runsheng, don’t go too fast. Don’t damage my Little Yuanhou.”

Runsheng slung his tools and exited, neatly placing everything on the tricycle. Afterward, he couldn’t help giving it a pat.

“Little Yuan, once I save up enough money…”

“Runsheng-ge, don’t move too much. Take a discreet look at the little hill we were at before.”

Pretending to rearrange the gear, Runsheng swept a glance. Two figures were standing there—familiar.

“I’ve seen them before…”

“At the video parlor. Those four loudmouthed punks.”

Their leader—the man in the suit—had been arrested and was cooperating with the authorities. Luckily, he was still in the early stages of distribution. He hadn’t even received the goods himself, let alone assigned tasks to his underlings.

So the three thugs were held for a day, given a stern lecture, and released.

“They live nearby and came to gawk?”

“Shigang isn’t as lively as Shinan. Would someone from Shigang come to Shinan to watch tapes? Runsheng-ge, look at their feet again.”

Runsheng glanced casually and then ducked his head. “Little Yuan, they’re tiptoeing!”

“It’s them. They’ve finally shown up. These are the real targets we’ve been hunting.”

Runsheng gripped the Yellow River Spade. “I’ll rush over now and bash their skulls in!”

“Runsheng-ge…”

“Don’t worry, Little Yuan. They can’t outrun me—especially not on tiptoes.”

“Runsheng-ge, there are cops all around us.”

“Oh…”

“Even Hong Kong gangster films aren’t as bold as you.”

“I was wrong, Little Yuan.”

“Let’s hop on the trike and ride in the opposite direction.”

“Following your lead.”

Li Zhuiyuan climbed on. Runsheng pedaled the other way, then turned into the back of another residential building.

“Runsheng-ge, put on this Homecoming Net. They won’t be able to see us.”

Runsheng’s eyes lit up. “This thing can do that too?”

“Otherwise, how do you trap a Dead Sinker? They’re too strong. Normal nets tear easily. Only something they can’t see keeps them trapped.”

“Honestly, Little Yuan, my grandpa’s tools are junk compared to yours. Might as well sell them for scrap.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll make you a set too.”

“Uh… won’t that be expensive?”

“No big deal. We’re seeing Grandpa Shan tomorrow. That should net us some money.”

“My grandpa’s broke. If rice and flour weren’t hard to sell in the village, we might not even have food when we get back tomorrow.”

“We’ll deal with that later. For now, we chase them.”

“Alright.”

Runsheng pedaled hard. People on the road stared in disbelief at the net-covered trike and its two passengers.

When they returned to the original spot, Runsheng frowned. “Not good. They’re gone.”

“They headed toward the river.”

Sure enough, the two figures were walking downstream along the riverbank.

“Should I ride down?”

“Stay on the road. Trail them from a distance. We’ll strike in a quiet spot.”

So the two followed from the road as the targets drifted toward a remote path.

“Do we act now, Little Yuan?”

“Wait. Let’s see where they’re headed. They’re just ghost-substitutes. There’s someone behind them.”

“You mean Old Jiang?”

“Old Jiang’s buried in the pond. Who do you think did that?”

“You’re saying…”

“I suspect one of the three people Jiang Dongping buried has already become a Dead Sinker.”

Li Zhuiyuan pulled out the bag of taizui meat from Officer Tan and continued, “This taizui might be suspect.”

Dead Sinkers don’t form easily, especially ones that control ghost-substitutes. That’s a rare class.

Even through the plastic, the taizui meat reeked of blood and rot. Hard to believe someone would eat this as a tonic.

Dusk had fallen.

The two figures stopped at a gravestone and knelt down with a thud.

Li Zhuiyuan and Runsheng, hidden under the Homecoming Net, crouched behind another tombstone, watching from either side.

But the kneeling figures didn’t move at all. Darkness deepened.

Runsheng glanced at Li Zhuiyuan, confused: What are they doing?

Li Zhuiyuan shrugged: No clue.

Runsheng gestured around, then at his Yellow River Spade: It’s deserted. We could smash them.

Li Zhuiyuan waved him off, then pointed at Runsheng’s arm. Puzzled, Runsheng saw Li Zhuiyuan leaning over, so he raised his arm to give him a better rest.

Whatever Little Yuan was doing, it had to be for a reason.

A while passed. The two kneelers remained still. So did Little Yuan, resting against Runsheng’s arm.

Runsheng turned to check—Little Yuan was asleep?

But Li Zhuiyuan wasn’t really asleep. He was trying to doze off, and in that half-dream state, he heard wails and desperate begging—Brother Bao and Zhao Xing’s voices.

He knew then: he’d entered the dream-like realm.

Opening his eyes, Li Zhuiyuan found Runsheng gone. Not surprising—Runsheng hadn’t entered the dream.

The cries of torment and pleas continued. The two were undergoing horrific torture.

Last time at the feast, Brother Bao and Zhao Xing hadn’t realized Jiang Dongping had been buried alive. Nor did they know their true master was once a victim—possibly Zhou, the one Brother Bao buried.

Carefully peeking from behind the tombstone, Li Zhuiyuan saw the spot where the two had knelt was now empty.

Shifting his gaze, he spotted them further back—Brother Bao and Zhao Xing—kneeling, wailing, their bodies cracking open.

Li Zhuiyuan froze, his whole body cold.

He and Runsheng had assumed the two were paying respects to the gravestone.

But they were merely vessels, possessed and discarded—like abandoned shoes.

When a shoe is off the foot, its toe points nowhere meaningful.

Brother Bao and Zhao Xing were facing the gravestone Li Zhuiyuan had been hiding behind!

And now, looking down, he saw a long shadow stretching from behind him.

Clearly, it wasn’t his.

Which meant—

It—

Had been standing behind him and Runsheng all along.

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