"Yangyang, what are you doing standing here alone?"
A tall, robust elderly man emerged from the open wooden door of the adjacent house. He was nearly two meters tall.
The old man had sparse hair, but he maintained his goat beard meticulously. He wore a robe-like loose garment in gray-white, with two black dragons embroidered on the sleeves of each forearm.
This was his grandfather, Wang Xinlong.
Wang Xinlong was eighty-nine years old, with a body shaped like an inverted triangle. His muscles were solid and well-developed, his spirit vigorous. His eyes were bright and piercing. Those who met his gaze for long felt an oppressive, domineering presence.
Because of his long practice of martial arts, his upper body muscles were extremely developed, giving his physique an odd, distorted appearance.
His left upper arm bore an old injury, so he always wore a black metal brace. The brace was intricately carved with beautiful patterns.
As a child, Wang Yiyang thought the metal brace looked cool. Later, he learned wearing it was actually quite burdensome, especially in hot weather.
When he was younger, Wang Xinlong had a reputation throughout the region as a man with a terrible temper. He would resort to violence at the slightest provocation.
But as he aged, he became more peaceful, his attention shifting entirely to teaching his disciples and family.
His son hadn't worked out—he gave up on him. So he tried to get Wang Yiyang to inherit his legacy, but the boy refused stubbornly.
You cannot force a melon to be sweet. Eventually Wang Xinlong had no choice but to place his hopes on his disciples.
"You recovered quickly!" Wang Xinlong laughed and patted Wang Yiyang on the shoulder. "Your body's in good shape."
"Not bad, not bad. The company has a gym too. I work out with my coworkers regularly." Wang Yiyang recovered his composure and replied with a smile.
About that strange feeling earlier, he still wasn't certain what it was. But vaguely, he felt it must be related to his senior brother Zhong Can.
Did Zhong Can already harbor ill intentions at this point in time?
Wang Yiyang felt a chill run through his heart.
At that moment, he suddenly regretted not having studied martial arts seriously from childhood. Now he was utterly defenseless, completely helpless.
Not to mention actual combat. Even in terms of pure physical comparison, if Zhong Can had any malicious intent, killing him would be as easy as crushing an ant.
He had seen Zhong Can lift a grinding stone weighing several hundred pounds from the corner of the courtyard as if it were tofu. Effortlessly.
"But it's modern times now. Martial arts are outdated. My choice wasn't wrong. I just haven't truly developed my life plans yet," Wang Yiyang thought to himself, as if trying to convince himself.
"How does it feel coming back after so long? Are you getting used to it?" Wang Xinlong stood to the side, hands clasped behind his back, looking up at the night sky.
"It's okay. There are a lot of insects, though. Even with insect repellent, they still bite me." Wang Yiyang answered honestly.
"That's because your blood is fresh," the old man laughed. "Those mosquitoes are used to our blood. They want to try something different. When your father comes, it's the same—every time you two visit, the mosquitoes all bite you instead."
Wang Yiyang laughed along. "Grandfather, have you ever thought about moving to the city?"
"No way. What's so good about the city? Even finding a place to exercise, you have to compete with others. A park lot the size of a palm—you break anything and have to pay for it. Too troublesome!
Out here in the countryside, things aren't as refined, but they're not so fussy either."
"But if you're alone out here, what if you get sick?" Wang Yiyang tried to persuade him.
"Don't I have all my disciples around? Your senior brother Zhong Can is here too. Is there any reason to worry about not having someone to care for me?" Wang Xinlong laughed heartily. "You should worry about yourself instead. Hurry and find me a daughter-in-law so I can have a great-grandson to play with."
Wang Yiyang chatted idly with his grandfather. It had been many years since he'd had such a good conversation with the old man. Usually, he was either busy studying or working.
As the sky grew darker, thin moonlight descended. The old man stood for a while, then let out a belch. It seemed his mood had picked up. He began rambling on cheerfully with his grandson.
During the conversation, Wang Yiyang tried to hint at things several times but didn't know how to bring it up.
Finally working up the courage to say something, his grandfather treated his words as a joke or a dream, waved them off dismissively, and didn't take him seriously.
Wang Yiyang could only sigh helplessly.
"Let me tell you, that job of yours has no future. What internet work nonsense? Aren't you just working for someone else? A few thousand a month? That's not even enough for my drinking!"
The old man belched again and continued.
"If you ask me, you should come back to the martial hall and train properly. Even if you don't get very far, I still have some properties I can leave you. Better than working for others in the city and getting exploited."
Wang Yiyang felt upset at being criticized, but after all, this was his grandfather. He had to bear it.
But his young man's temper flared. Being lectured all this time about how his studies and efforts were worthless, he couldn't help but fire back with a comment.
"Actually, I'm not doing as badly out there as you think."
He came from a modest family. His parents were travel journalists—a relatively new profession where they visited scenic spots to verify and write about them for travel columns.
His parents' income was low, and they were rarely home.
So from childhood, his grandparents had basically raised him.
Later, as he got older and hit his rebellious phase, he constantly clashed with his grandfather and got beaten regularly.
Wang Yiyang's temper was stubborn. No matter how badly he was beaten, he never admitted defeat.
Then one time, when Wang Xinlong was drunk, he beat his grandson so severely that Wang Yiyang suffered a ruptured spleen and nearly died. His grandmother immediately gave the old man a thorough beating.
After that, Wang Xinlong never struck Wang Yiyang again and stopped pressuring him to learn martial arts.
Later, Wang Yiyang grew up and became more sensible. He began to study seriously and moved to the city for a better school.
Eventually, the grandfather and grandson grew distant.
Not until Wang Yiyang entered university and had more free time did they gradually start communicating more frequently.
Actually, since high school, Wang Yiyang had managed his own life completely. His parents only gave him a fixed monthly allowance and rarely inquired about other matters.
He was very obedient and well-behaved, never causing his parents to be called to school.
Later, when he went to study far away at university, contact became even less frequent. Talking on the phone once a month was common.
After graduating, Wang Yiyang didn't pursue a postgraduate degree. Instead, he immediately found a job in his field—internet product evaluation specialist.
"Not that bad? You're that what's-it product evaluator? Hmph. I asked around. Five thousand a month tops." The old man held up five fingers with a mocking expression on his face.
"..." Wang Yiyang was speechless.
Coming back to himself, he quickly described in detail to his grandfather that strange feeling from earlier.
"That's just you getting frightened, with your spirit disturbed by what startled you," Wang Xinlong frowned. "It's nothing serious. You should just watch fewer ghost movies and horror films. Calm your spirit."
"What does it mean to calm one's spirit?"
"When your spirit is strong, watching horror movies is like using stimulation to train your mind. But if your spirit is weak and you keep watching them, you'll shake the very foundation of your spirit.
If the spirit isn't stable, the qi won't flow smoothly. Your body will naturally be affected. The slightest disturbance and you'll become timid and fearful."
"I understand..." Wang Yiyang nodded in acknowledgment.
"Alright, alright, hurry back to sleep. It's getting late." The old man had chatted long enough and felt tired. He turned and walked back to his room, moving slowly.
Wang Yiyang watched him go, his heart filled with mixed emotions.
...
...
Inside his room.
Zhong Can stood by the window, his expression calm and indifferent.
His powerful frame looked like a human statue carved from darkness, hard and imbued with an inexplicable terror.
"Wang Yiyang seems to have sensed something," he thought to himself—Black Mantis.
He lowered his head and looked at the light glowing on his phone, his fingers moving rapidly to send an encrypted message.
Buzz. His phone received a response.
"Should we kill him early? To avoid complications." —Dada.
"He leaves in two days. We'll make a move on his way back," —Black Mantis.
"Should I do it or you?" —Dada.
"You. If I act, Old Wang will notice." —Black Mantis.
"Fine. I'll just arrange a little car accident for him." —Dada.
"That works. But if he really has discovered something, I'll take action directly. Be ready to cooperate." —Black Mantis.
"Of course." —Dada.
Pop.
The phone screen instantly cleared all messages, then immediately shut down, as if an invisible hand were erasing all chat records.
Zhong Can raised his head and stared at the darkness above at the wooden beam on the ceiling, motionless for a long time.
...
...
Night deepened.
Wang Yiyang changed into sleepwear and lay flat on his bed.
Outside, in the courtyard, he could vaguely hear the maid drawing water to water the flowers.
Well water striking the metal bucket produced a continuous splash of sound. Combined with the surrounding quiet night, it somehow seemed even quieter.
Wang Yiyang lay on the somewhat hard wooden board bed, breathing the cold air through his nostrils. He could still smell a faint mustiness in the room.
The bedding and quilts hadn't been used in a long time. They had a subtle dampness, feeling moist to the touch, with a chill that seeped directly into his bones.
Wang Yiyang pulled at the quilt, but no matter how much he adjusted it, he couldn't get warm.
His mouth was dry. When he licked his lips, he unexpectedly touched something soft stuck to them.
It seemed to be fruit skin or perhaps bean skin.
Salty and somewhat disgusting. He quickly reached up, grabbed the soft thing with his fingers, and flicked it away.
Pop.
The object seemed to hit a wooden table in the room, making a very faint sound.
"What should I do to solve this?" Wang Yiyang stared at the somewhat blackened wooden beam overhead, sighing deeply.
He felt he'd used up a whole year's worth of sighs in just these past few days.
"From how Zhong Can acted today, he's basically stopped hiding his malice. In front of Grandfather, perhaps he still shows some restraint, but toward me..."
He recalled their earlier stare-down.
He didn't think that was his imagination.
Zhong Can's room was next door.
The two of them might be no more than three meters apart, separated by just one wall.
The thought made Wang Yiyang's hair stand on end. He couldn't fall asleep no matter what.
Tossing and turning in bed for more than half an hour, he only entered a half-awake, half-asleep state.
After dozing for about an hour, he vaguely heard a sound outside the window, but when he forced his eyes open to look, he found nothing.
After this happened several times, Wang Yiyang gave up on sleep altogether. He simply got up and sat on the bed, staying awake until dawn.