Chapter Twenty: Vengeance for Wang Yong (Part One)

Old Ma said that Wang Sheng is the son of the president of the Wang Group in Z City. Since childhood, he had followed his granduncle Wang Jingtian to learn the arts of Maoshan. Wang Sheng was not only a cultivation prodigy in Wang Jingtian’s eyes, but also his beloved nephew, and thus received all his care and favor, which is how Wang Sheng attained his current mastery.

The moment I heard that Wang Sheng was the son of the Wang Group in Z City, I was taken aback—not because he came from money and still learned Daoist arts, but firstly, the Wang Group he mentioned was the same one my own little lackey worked for, and secondly, I was curious why, with such a background, Wang Sheng would choose to live with his uncle in that shabby antique shop instead of enjoying the life of a rich heir.

Old Ma quickly resolved my confusion: “It all started one night eight years ago. Wang Sheng’s granduncle had a fierce argument with his father, Wang Tianyu, and there was a reason for it. Wang Tianyu had taken in a seductive female corpse demon, fell hopelessly under her spell, and became utterly obsessed. Eventually, Wang Jingtian discovered the situation. But he was no match for the demoness and was forced to retreat. Before he left, he told Wang Sheng that this woman did not truly love his father; she was only waiting for the right moment to seize the company from Wang Tianyu.”

At this point, Old Ma paused for a sip of water before continuing: “Wang Sheng has a naturally unyielding spirit, and considers exorcising demons his calling. Without hesitation, he confronted his father, but his father wouldn’t listen. In anger, Wang Sheng left a note and ran away from home, following Wang Jingtian around the country, enduring both hardships and joys. He’s never returned since. It’s been eight years now.” With that, Old Ma fell silent, as if there was nothing more to say.

I didn’t wish to ask further, for I had already gleaned much from his words. Glancing again at Wang Jingtian’s body, I knew it couldn’t stay here. So I said to Old Ma and Uncle Mao, “What should we do with Wang Jingtian’s remains?”

“What else? Let them cool off!” they replied in unison. Each produced a talisman from their belts, ignited them, and tossed them onto the corpse. Flames roared up fiercely, blazing so hot the little house became an inferno. I managed to endure the stench, but Old Ma and Uncle Mao clutched their noses and retched. At that moment, I truly understood the meaning of ‘reap what you sow’. Te, our vampire prince, commented in his halting Mandarin, “Chinese kung fu, truly awesome!”

Under the talismans’ power, Wang Jingtian’s body was reduced to nothing but ashes; not even a wisp of smoke rose from the flames. When I touched the ashes, they were cool to the touch—so this was what they meant by ‘cool off’. I couldn’t help but marvel at the Daoist talismans.

Thus, Wang Jingtian’s body was dealt with, his ashes taken away by Wang Sheng. After Wang Sheng left, I pulled Old Ma outside and complained, “Uncle Ma, you’ve gotten me in a real mess. A’Shuang won’t talk to me anymore, and she won’t even let me visit your house. What am I supposed to do?” I don’t know if you’d call that tattling, but I was simply venting my woes.

Old Ma, thinking it was something serious, burst out laughing when he heard my complaint—laughing so hard he nearly doubled over. Seeing this, I gave him a look of utter contempt, slaying him a thousand times over with my eyes.

Between fits of laughter, Old Ma said, “Xiaodong, I, Old Ma, have only one precious daughter and have lived alone all my life. Even I can’t handle her temper—how can I help you? You’ll have to rely on yourself for this one, but I’m rooting for you!” With that, he gave me a light punch and walked back into the house.

Inside, Uncle Mao and Te were deep in conversation. Clearly, Uncle Mao was fascinated by Te. When he saw me enter, he opened a drawer, took out a box of blood packs, and said, “I knew you’d be out, so take these!” He tossed me a box and a pack—enough to keep me going for a while. Uncle Mao must have prepared well for Te.

I greedily pierced a straw into the pack and drank. As a first-generation corpse demon, I could keep my nature in check, but other lower-level corpse demons would have been driven mad by the scent of blood, like werewolves under a full moon.

Te and I spent the night at Uncle Mao’s house. The next morning, after bidding him farewell, we took Old Ma’s battered car to the academy. Listening to the rattling of his old Volkswagen, I couldn’t help but think of my own limited-edition Ferrari.

Ah—no matter how you look at it, a better life is always out there!

At the academy, life went on as usual. Everyone was busy with their own affairs. Occasionally, a pure and sweet girl would catch my eye, but then I’d see her hop straight into some pig-headed guy’s car. I was struck by the power of money and saddened to see such a lovely cabbage nibbled away by a pig.

Back in the dorm, I dove into bed and remembered my little lackey. Why not check in and see what he was up to?

It was daytime, so my brothers were all out—some playing, some chasing girls. The spacious dorm room was now just Te and me, the perfect setting for me to check on Wang Yong.

Amazingly, Wang Yong had actually infiltrated the Wang Group and landed a decent position. I remembered he used to be a sales manager, so I guess he did have a head for business.

His only shortcoming was his clumsy body—far too stiff and sluggish for a corpse demon.

Closing my eyes, I saw Wang Yong in a suit and flashy tie, polished shoes befitting a manager, and his buzzcut shining under the light. Just a glance and you could tell he was no ordinary salesman.

But there was a hint of something amiss. I saw Wang Yong sneaking into the chairman’s office, rifling through files—probably something related to that fourth-generation zombie. I thought: Old Ma said the president, Wang Tianyu, had once loved a female corpse demon, and that Wang Tianyu’s nephew had hired the person behind the murder of Wang Yong’s family. Yet Wang Yong claimed the corpse demon was male. It seemed the source of the corpses was spreading from the female demon outward. My task was to stop this spread.

Wang Yong once said it all began three years ago, so I figured the Wang Group had probably become the female corpse demon’s territory by now. I didn’t know how many corpse demons were inside, but I doubted there were many above level three.

Seizing the boss’s absence, Wang Yong kept searching until he pulled a contract from a hidden compartment.

This contract was no trivial matter; it was the agreement Wang Tianyu had signed with the fourth-generation zombie, valid for thirty years. If the contract was for thirty years, then these corpse demons must still be here.

After reading it, Wang Yong put the contract back and left the office.

As he walked down the company hallway, a familiar stranger passed by him. I had no idea what Wang Yong was thinking, because I couldn’t see everything he saw. I pulled myself out of the trance, feeling drained and cursing, “Damn, this is real physical labor!” Then I nudged Te and said, “Let’s go to the Wang Group.”

In a big city like Z, there were plenty of foreigners like Te, so no one paid much attention to our formidable partnership.

As we walked through downtown Z City, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of emotion, thinking of the struggles that awaited me here after graduation. I turned to Te and asked, “Te, do you miss your parents?”

They say foreigners are both straightforward and open-minded—indeed, Te, this eight-foot-tall man, sat down on a nearby stone bench and began to sob, leaving me in a rather awkward spot.

Luckily, we were in a grassy city park with few people around. I sat beside him as he started to speak, his voice heavy with sorrow. He told me he hadn’t seen his father in nearly a thousand years. I knew this much—his mother was just an ordinary vampire, and such a mismatch in rank was forbidden by their clan’s rules. Old Ma had told me about this as well. I guessed in the end, Te’s mother probably took her own life—she didn’t want to tarnish the Smith family’s name or see the vampire king fall from grace, so she chose death.

It was the vampire hierarchy that had torn apart such a beautiful couple. Back then, Te was only eighty—still a child by vampire standards. After that, his father never remarried, devoting himself to raising Te until his five-hundredth birthday. Then, his father had to face two challenges from Maccas, which changed Te’s life forever.

I comforted him, saying, “Everyone has obstacles in their lives, but there isn’t one you can’t overcome. As long as there’s a hurdle, you can cross it. We’re not so different—you know, my parents are just ordinary people, laborers working themselves to the bone to put me through college. It’s been ten years since I last saw them. Though it’s not as long as your separation, think about it—how many decades do ordinary people have? I just want to be with my mom and dad, and not see them work so hard anymore. I remember when I was fifteen, I visited them once and saw their hands covered in calluses. I cried. I’d never been so heartbroken—I always thought they only did light work, but I was wrong. In a big city, there was no work for people like them. With no education, all they could do was backbreaking labor to earn a bit more money.”

At this point, I looked up at the blue sky, struggling to keep my tears from falling.

But I couldn’t stop; I’d finally found someone I could open up to. So I continued, “When I saw my dad lifting steel bars heavier than himself, my heart ached terribly. I’d never felt so grown up. I wanted to rush over and help, but I couldn’t. When I saw my mom doing work beyond her strength, I truly cried—the tears came straight from my heart. From that moment, I swore to change everything, so I started to struggle, to study, to climb—until I became a corpse demon.”

Finishing this, I stood up from the bench, tears finally spilling out. I wiped them away, patted Te on the shoulder, and said, “Te, trust me—we’ll rescue your father from Maccas. For now, let’s focus on the task at hand.” I held out my hand to him.

Te slowly raised his head, grasping my hand, and stood up from the bench, nodding fiercely.

If you’d asked me how I felt after pouring out my heart like that, I could only say: relief. No explanation needed.

The sight of Te and me walking away from that bench will stay with me forever.

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