Chapter 35: What do you think should be buried here?

Seven in the afternoon.

After work, Wang Jian said goodbye to Feng Mu with worried anxiety, looking back at every step, as if afraid this parting would become a final farewell.

Feng Mu waved goodbye to Wang Jian and walked back to the Incineration Room.

In the room where the E Corpses were burned and the furnace closed, the air still lingered with a strange meat fragrance that could whet one's appetite.

Feng Mu took out an Iron Bead from his pocket, crushed it into powder, and swallowed it.

Outside, the Upper City Butt Lamp was still lit, exactly when the off-duty crowds surged; the temperature inside the Incineration Room was neither cold nor hot, just right for lingering to practice Body Forging Exercise for a while.

【Edibility ↑↑】

Feng Mu was single-minded, practicing Body Forging Exercise with abandon.

Time passed unknowingly, and two tufts of hair at the gate of the Incineration Plant were disheveled in the cold wind.

Hong Mao: "Why hasn't that kid come out yet? Did he run away early?"

Huang Mao darkened his face and gave a cold snort: "Wait a bit longer; he might be hiding inside, afraid to come out."

One hour later.

The workers at the Incineration Plant had all left one by one, leaving only two or three Security Guards standing at the gate.

Huang Mao spat a thick glob of phlegm on the ground, his patience exhausted; he furrowed his eyebrows and led Hong Mao into the Incineration Plant.

The Security Guard stopped him and wouldn't let him in.

Huang Mao made a move to force his way in; the Security Guard put down his Thermos, drew his Electric Baton, and crackling electric arcs flashed.

Huang Mao didn't expect that a mere Security Guard would dare to stop the two of them, and he was about to turn red with rage on the spot.

The Security Guard said in a deep voice: "Feng Mu hasn't gone out; if you want to find him, you can only wait outside."

Blocking was the Security Guard's duty, concerning his bowl of rice, so the Security Guard couldn't let them pass; but saying Feng Mu was still inside was human wisdom, avoiding unnecessary conflict.

Huang Mao glanced again at the crackling, flashing Electric Baton, retreated with a cold laugh, and gritted his teeth: "Keep guarding him; I don't believe he can stay inside forever."

Hong Mao nodded, having made up his mind in his heart; he would definitely vent all his anger on Feng Mu later, making him understand what it means that red hair cannot be insulted.

Two hours later.

The cigarettes in both Mao's cigarette cases were all smoked.

"We're blocking the gate; he might not dare come out. How about we hide for a bit?"

"Damn it, that makes sense."

The two Mao left the gate of the Incineration Plant and hid in the grass by the roadside.

To be honest, they actually have a bit of brain~

And, as the two hid in the grass, enduring humiliation to feed mosquitoes, the Upper City Butt Lamp went dark, and from afar came the sound of bicycle wheels creaking and squeaking, getting closer and closer, drowning out the buzzing of mosquitoes by their ears.

"The two Mao left?"

"Honestly, I was just a little late; we agreed not to miss each other?"

"I shouldn't have overestimated the integrity of hooligans."

Feng Mu felt displeased inside; did the two Mao escape again tonight?

"Stop!"

In the grass, two burly men suddenly jumped out, one red and one yellow, very eye-catching under the night sky, like a plate of tomato scrambled eggs served when hungry, making one's mouth water.

Feng Mu swallowed a mouthful of saliva: "You didn't leave?"

Hong Mao swept back his hair with one hand, his swollen eyes showing murderous aura: "Now you know to be afraid and swallow saliva? Too late."

Feng Mu got off his bicycle, lowered his head, not daring to meet their eyes, only staring at the two people's shadows on the ground, trembling: "Wait, it's not convenient here; let's change places."

The two Mao were both stunned, thinking they had auditory hallucinations.

Feng Mu felt this patch of grass was still a bit close to the Incineration Plant; they still needed to find a more secluded place.

He raised his head, controlled his facial bones to move his muscles, making a frightened expression, shivering: "You said this afternoon, as long as I tell you what I've been doing lately, you'd let me go, right?"

Huang Mao and Hong Mao looked at each other, seeming to understand something, their eyes lighting up at the same time.

Then Feng Mu begged very sincerely: "I'll take you to see my secret; I buried it not far away."

This unexpected joy came too suddenly; the two Mao's qi and blood surged, and their breathing became rapid.

Damn~

The lines Bin Ge taught us are awesome; this kid seems really fooled, about to be tricked into revealing something!

Feng Mu took in their expressions as if they had won the lottery, thinking in his heart that they were hooked; he then turned around and slowly pushed his bicycle forward.

The two Mao hurriedly followed, even urgently urging: "Don't dawdle, walk faster and lead the way."

When a person is rushing to die, Feng Mu naturally didn't dare to neglect; he hurriedly sped up, walking faster and faster, turning east and west into a deserted place.

"Kid, how much farther?" Huang Mao was a bit impatient, not suspicious, just feeling they had walked far and his soles were tired.

"Almost there, just ahead." Feng Mu said, not stopping his feet.

After walking another quarter of an hour, Hong Mao stepped forward and grabbed the bicycle handle; he seemed to sense something was wrong, his tone harsh: "Where exactly is it?"

Feng Mu let go of the bicycle handle; he glanced around, seeing only uneven bushes, none reaching half his waist, and farther away, abandoned unfinished buildings swallowed by darkness.

Around them, besides the sound of wind and insects, there seemed to be no one else, only the three of them.

Feng Mu turned around: "Here it is; I think it's quite good. What do you think?"

Hong Mao suspiciously glanced around and asked: "Where is this? What do you mean 'what do you think'? What is the thing you buried, and exactly where did you bury it?"

Feng Mu looked up, glanced at the Upper City Butt Lamp lights going out one by one, then casually pointed at the two people's feet, baring a mouthful of white teeth.

"The thing buried is just the two of you, isn't it?"

A gloomy voice entered the two people's ears; the hair on the back of their necks suddenly stood on end. Looking at the kid before them, there was no trace of fright on his face; instead, his sickly pallor was clearly filled with ruthless ferocity.

Hong Mao hadn't had time to react when he saw Feng Mu grip his hand into a claw, assuming a strange starting stance.

Hong Mao hurriedly let go of the bicycle handle and stumbled backward, but how could he be faster than the tearing claws breaking through the air?

Crane Claw Technique, Third Form: Rending Void Finger.

Following the memories in his Nao Hai and muscles, the finger hook that had been tempered over ten years slashed through the air with a sharp hiss, just like when he first began his Cultivation, hooking an Iron Bead as it skimmed across a basin.

Just a light hook, then pulling back with the momentum.

Hong Mao's retreating steps stopped abruptly; he cried out once, his whole body losing balance and pitching forward, but his shoulder was torn open with a blood hole, a finger piercing his collarbone with a reverse hook, fresh blood gushing to cover his face.

Red face with red hair — the taste of death!

"A bit weak, not enough for practice."

Feng Mu ignored Hong Mao's screams, his finger hook twisting around the bone, then pulling along the bone's seam.

Once, Zhang Tong had wanted to prepare Feng Mu this way, but unfortunately he failed at the last step and died; now, Feng Mu used the same move on Hong Mao.

Crane Claw Technique, Sixth Form: Bone Splitting.

Hong Mao could not dodge or break free, truly interpreting weak strength and soft bones — retreating one step would lead to the miserable state of near-death and crippling injury.

Bone tore muscle, muscle tore blood vessels, shoulder and neck were pulled into a gaping wound, a bloody blur that was truly shocking.

"Don't retreat; if I retreat, I'll end up like him — I'd rather die than retreat again!"

Feng Mu silently swore in his heart, feeling his Battle experience surge greatly, then he Turned Around, using Crane Claw Technique Second Form: Dragonfly Sweep, lunging straight at Huang Mao, who drew his Knife from his waist and changed color in fury.

Huang Mao glanced at Hong Mao's miserable state, his heart pounding wildly, and Nu Haoed: "We were just scamming and frightening you this afternoon, kid — your Fanneng doesn't need to be so excessive!"

Feng Mu acted as if he hadn't heard, stepping twice with his feet, his index and middle fingers emitting a soul-shaking black-purple.

Crane Claw Technique Second Form is called Dragonfly Sweep; it sounds Harmless to humans and animals, silent as touching water, but in truth it is like hearing Crane Cry in the wind — a vicious move specially made to gouge out people's eyes.

"I know you're scamming me, but that doesn't matter; what matters is you have to beat me to death, otherwise, I'll beat you to death." Feng Mu spoke coldly, single-mindedly intent on taking a life.

Chapter End