Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Assault

Chen Jin stared blankly at the black-and-white boy before him. The boy smiled at him—brightly, though without the gleam of perfect teeth one might expect from a cartoon effect.

The boy was entirely black and white, the same as Zhang Hui’s ghostly wife.

His mouth opened and closed, as if he were speaking, but not a single sound reached Chen Jin’s ears.

It seemed there was destined to be a barrier between them, and not a thin one at that. This wasn’t merely a generation gap—it was an abyss, a chasm of species. Communication between a pig and a duck was just as hopeless: one would grunt, the other would quack. It seemed Chen Jin had just insulted himself, too.

Since he couldn’t hear anything, he simply pretended not to notice and ignored the boy, just as he had with Zhang Hui’s ghostly wife before.

The boy, seeing this, stopped moving his mouth and simply stood there in Chen Jin’s office.

Chen Jin paid him no further mind and began handling the various reports for the store.

He could feel the boy’s presence lingering in the office—the prickling sensation of being watched never quite left him.

But rather than distracting him, it spurred him on. With swift strokes of his pen, Chen Jin finished an entire stack of reports in minutes, then started making his rounds through the store—a sort of spot check to see who was slacking off. He liked to surprise them with his visits. He rarely docked pay, but those caught would be assigned to the next night shift, which, in this rotation, was mandatory.

With his keen senses, Chen Jin knew someone was sneaking in some phone time, and as soon as he stepped out, someone tipped the others off.

But that didn’t matter; there was always someone unlucky enough to get caught.

Unfortunately, after making a full circuit, he found no one—all the staff had slyly put away their phones. With so many customers in the store, he didn’t need to be too strict.

After his rounds, Chen Jin returned to his office—only to find the boy had vanished.

He sat down at his computer and began searching recent news about Xialake County.

He browsed Xialake’s local online forums first but found no major news. The county was just too small and obscure for the broader media to pay attention unless something truly significant happened.

He scrolled through chat groups, finding only reports of when and where some group members had been attacked. There was nothing concrete in the real world—no official information at all. Chen Jin could only sigh in frustration.

Though the group files detailed the locations, he had no intention of risking his own neck to investigate. His life, after all, was too precious, and caution was always wise.

Time flew by, and soon the evening shift was ending.

He gathered the staff and assigned the night shift.

During the brief meeting, Chen Jin glanced out the glass window and spotted the boy again—now inside Zhang Hui’s snack shop. It seemed the boy had latched onto Zhang Hui.

Chen Jin took one look and let it go; after all, Zhang Hui was used to dealing with ghosts—one more wouldn’t be a problem.

The meeting ended, and the day’s work was done.

Chen Jin got on his electric scooter and headed toward Wang’s Restaurant in the old part of town.

Most of the recent attacks had happened near the old city.

But Chen Jin’s route home took him along the main roads, avoiding any dark, secluded alleys.

Still, it was best to be cautious. After thinking it over, he called Qin Yang to have dinner delivered to his home.

So his first stop was home.

To be honest, since hearing the news, Chen Jin’s mind had been running wild, half-convinced he’d run into one of those attackers.

Because of this feeling, he avoided the shortcuts he’d once taken and stuck to the main roads.

As he rode onto a bridge, he suddenly sensed someone watching him—a feeling much like being watched by that ghostly boy.

Smack!

His body wasn’t hit, but a small pale hand slapped the rearview mirror of his scooter.

Chen Jin bent low just in time and, as he prepared to fight back, realized the assailant was his sister, Chen Lan.

She was on another scooter, driven by a pretty girl who looked like a classmate—someone who also lived in their village.

Chen Lan grinned mischievously, but her friend was pale, as if Chen Jin’s sudden readiness to fight had frightened her.

“Chen Lan, what are you doing?” Chen Jin frowned.

“Can’t I say hello?” Chen Lan replied nonchalantly.

“Home this early?” he asked.

It was just after six, and the sky was already half-dark for this time of year.

“No evening study hall tonight,” Chen Lan replied.

“She’s—”

“My junior, Lin Qing—she lives in our village too. We just happened to meet today,” Chen Lan quickly explained.

Chen Jin nodded and focused on driving.

That surprise had genuinely startled him—he had almost lashed out and hurt his own sister, which was the last thing he wanted.

“I told you my brother’s awkward. He doesn’t say much, but you can tell he’s thinking a million things and just doesn’t know how to put them into words,” Chen Lan whispered to Lin Qing.

Chen Jin heard every word and shot her a glare, but Chen Lan only grew bolder.

“Let me tell you—”

Whoosh—

Suddenly, Chen Jin felt a prickling on his back, then heard the sound of something slicing through the air.

He didn’t hesitate—abandoning his scooter, he used his own strength to spring off it, launching himself toward Chen Lan and Lin Qing.

In an instant, he grabbed them both and leapt off the bridge.

Thud—

Just as he seized the girls, a golden light crashed into the bridge above, leaving it unscathed.

Chen Jin didn’t stop to check; he was already below.

With a light touch, he landed safely on the ground beneath the bridge.

Chen Lan and Lin Qing, tucked under his arms, were already unconscious—he had knocked them out with his internal energy the moment he acted.

He set them down in a corner under the bridge and cast an illusion to hide them, then looked up.

A figure was standing upside down on the underside of the bridge.

“What a good brother,” the figure remarked, detaching from the bridge and floating down.

He was swathed in black cloth from head to toe, even his head wrapped, and was short—about the height of an elementary schooler.

“You’re that guy?” Chen Jin narrowed his eyes.

“You saw him, didn’t you?” the figure in black asked.

“Who?” Chen Jin replied, feigning ignorance.

“Huang Xiping,” the man said.

“Who’s that?” Chen Jin guessed he meant the ghostly boy, but he played dumb.

“Him… Oh, so you’re the one who posted in the group…” The black-clad figure pulled a phone from his robes.

Chen Jin’s eyes narrowed. This one was in the chat group too.

“Looks like you have to die,” the figure rasped, his voice hoarse and sharp.