Chapter 472

Villagers generally rest early, especially the elderly. Around nine o'clock, Grandma Huang entered the room; as for whether she had fallen asleep, Pangzi and I weren't sure, but from time to time sighs came from the room, and I thought Grandma Huang was not sleeping soundly.

Around midnight, a loud knocking came from outside the house. When Pangzi and I rubbed our sleepy eyes and ran out, we saw a drunken young man lugging a large sack inside.

Grandma Huang stepped out of the room ahead of us, and she was the one who opened the door for that young man.

"My son, you've finally come back—where have you been drinking at this hour? Come, put down your things first; Mother will draw water for you to take a bath." This young man was presumably Huang's son Chen Biao. Upon seeing him, Grandma Huang's eyes welled up, and two hot tears streamed down her face; she was greatly moved.

"Don't nag me here; where I go is none of your business. You're always saying I waste my days in debauchery and neglect my duties—well, I tell you, I've got money now, plenty of it!" Chen Biao's attitude was not good; instead he scoffed at Grandma Huang.

With a bang, Chen Biao flung the sack on his back onto the table. Drunk, he swayed, fumbled with his hands for a while, and unfolded the sack.

Instantly, a heap of banknotes and gold-and-silver jewelry entered everyone's view. Chen Biao seemed indifferent; drunk, he casually grabbed a handful and flung it hard onto Grandma Huang, reeking of alcohol as he shouted, "Take it—this is what I won!"

Having said that, Chen Biao gathered up the remaining money and jewels, drunk, and prepared to walk out the door.

As Chen Biao walked away, Grandma Huang panicked. She hurried over, weeping, and clung to his leg to stop him. But Chen Biao seemed unmoved; he cursed and kicked her aside, spat, and snarled, "Get lost, you bastard—don't block my fun!"

"Fun your ass! You scum, how dare you treat your own mother like that?" Before Pangzi could move, I kicked Chen Biao hard.

With a thump, my light kick sent Chen Biao stumbling and crawling out the door—so much force that even I found it unbelievable.

Look at his sallow complexion—clearly his body has been drained by drink and lust. Someone like him, even if not hacked to death, will likely die sooner or later on a woman's belly.

"You little thief, dare to move Brother Biao!" Chen Biao cursed, dizzy, grabbed the rake at the door and lunged at me. In a flash, Pangzi snatched the rake away with one hand, then swung his palm and flung Chen Biao aside.

Although Chen Biao was drunk, he seemed to realize we were not to be trifled with. He retreated three steps, shouting threats each time he turned, and fled in disgrace with half a sack of money.

I picked up the rake from the ground and intended to chase after him to give that unfilial son a good beating. Unexpectedly, Grandma Huang suddenly clung to my leg, preventing me from pursuing Chen Biao while she wept and begged me to spare him, not to harm her child.

Grandma Huang's outburst frightened Pangzi and me, and we hurried to help her inside the house.

"Grandma, such an unfilial son isn't worth your tears—he should be dragged out and shot." After helping Grandma Huang sit down, I still fumed and cursed at Chen Biao.

Grandma Huang wept, still defending Chen Biao, wiping her tears as she said sorrowfully, "It's not his fault, not my son's—it's all my failing. I gave him whatever he wanted from childhood, only seeking to please him, never teaching him right from wrong, never telling him to walk the proper path in life or to earn honest money."

From Grandma Huang's lament, Pangzi and I roughly understood their family background. It seems that when Chen Biao was very young, his father passed away.

Grandma Huang had doted on this child since infancy, giving him whatever he asked for, which fostered Chen Biao's bad habit of expecting clothes to be handed to him and food to be placed in his mouth. As he grew older, seeing the wealthy children dressed in fine silks and jade, he felt envious and constantly compared himself to them, reaching out to Grandma Huang for money.

But Grandma Huang's family was poor, unable to match those wealthy households. Consequently, the unsatisfied Chen Biao began to berate his mother and took up stealing chickens and dogs for money.

As he grew up, Chen Biao's temperament worsened—he indulged in eating, drinking, whoring, and gambling, and would often disappear for a year or more without returning home. Whenever he did come back, he would inexplicably have new injuries on his body.

As a mother, how could she not worry! Yet her son repeatedly ignored advice—what could a mother do?

Grandma Huang kept tearing up, her sorrow making Pangzi and I feel heartsick. The pile of banknotes on the table was like trash paper; to a mother, that stack of wiping paper could never compare to her own son.

I thought Pangzi and I should do something. After all, it was we two who chased Chen Biao away.

After helping Grandma Huang inside, I stepped to the doorway and quietly nudged Pangzi: "Lao Wang, let's go find Chen Biao and bring him back."

Without hesitation, Pangzi immediately replied, "Good"—it seemed I wasn't the only one with that idea.

Pangzi and I gently closed the wooden door of the thatched hut, and under the faintly whitening moonlight we stepped out.

"Lao Wang, there are some scattered banknotes on the ground; I think they're what Chen Biao dropped in his panicked flight. Let's follow this trail." I picked up a banknote from the ground and said to Pangzi beside me.

Unexpectedly, Pangzi furrowed his brow, shook his head slightly, and looked solemnly perplexed.

"Hai Sheng, I have a bad feeling that something is about to happen!" Pangzi stopped in his tracks and clutched his chest.

"You're overthinking it—what could happen just looking for a person?" I thought he was being overly nervous; although we cultivators have spiritual intuition, and we usually get subtle premonitions about impending events, as for spiritual intuition, I consider myself far stronger than Pangzi. It's impossible he could sense anything while I feel nothing.

"I hope so..." Pangzi still wasn't reassured.

"Hehehe..." Just as Pangzi's words faded, an eerie laugh suddenly filled the air. The laugh was weird and grating, making me feel creeped out from the core. I followed the sound to its source and found it in a tall old banyan tree.

The source of the sound was a grayish-brown owl perched on a branch of the banyan tree, its eyes narrowed, its feathers trembling all over.

No matter how you look at it, the owl seemed to be laughing, its whole body shaking with laughter.

Pangzi and I exchanged a glance, both seeing the heaviness on each other's faces. As the village saying goes, "Don't fear an owl's cry—fear its laugh."

This isn't superstition; in today's technologically advanced society, this phenomenon has also been fully explained by science.

An owl's organs are more sensitive than a human's; whenever someone dies nearby, the owl secretes a fluid that affects its senses, causing it to emit that hehehe laugh.

Instinctively, Pangzi and I quickened our pace, beginning to run down the dark village lane.

When we had run with all our might to the village outskirts, we saw a figure collapsed beside the path in the distance. Turning the corpse over, Haoran discovered that this was Chen Biao, whom we had just chased away.

By now Chen Biao had turned into a cold corpse, his nostrils devoid of breath, the sack full of banknotes and jewelry gone. At first sight of him as a corpse, I thought he had been murdered for his wealth.

But as my gaze moved downward, my eyes widened in terror; overcome with fear, I shouted and stumbled back several steps.

Why? How could this be? Chen Biao was a living person just half an hour ago. Why, half an hour later, is he lying beneath the banyan tree at the village edge, his belly empty, his intestines and kidneys gone, leaving only a deflated skin sack?

Moreover… his reproductive organs are missing too!