Chapter 56: Savior

“Damn it, was it you, you miserable wretch, who ruined my massage?” Shi Chengjin, radiating a suffocating aura of terror, strode unevenly toward the ginger cat that had collapsed on the ground, its fate uncertain. “Since you spoiled my fun, today I’ll show you why the flowers are so red!” He seized the scruff of the ginger cat’s neck, lifting it high. The cat, once so arrogant before Chang Yu and the others, now hung limply in his grasp, utterly powerless to resist.

In the next instant, Shi Chengjin slammed it down hard. With a sharp crack, the stone beneath the cat shattered, fragments mingling with dust in the air, drifting and settling all around. But he wasn’t finished. Grabbing the cat’s tail, he swung it back and forth, repeatedly smashing it against the ground, his biceps bulging like those of a cartoon strongman.

Though the transformed ginger cat was as large as a calf, Shi Chengjin hefted it one-handed as if it weighed nothing, like a stalk of rice grass. “Meow! Meow! Meow!” The cat’s cries were piercing, black viscous blood oozed from its fur, pooling on the ground. It thrashed desperately, trying to escape his grip, but he held it fast, as if it were no more substantial than a blade of foxtail grass.

Shi Chengjin was terrifyingly strong. Chang Yu admitted to himself that he had always underestimated him. Having fought the ginger cat himself, he knew firsthand how formidable it was—this was the creature that had defeated the three of them, that had nearly claimed his life with a single swipe, that even Katerina, a veteran of the Disaster Bureau, had found herself powerless against. So why, in front of Shi Chengjin, did this monster seem so meek, so pitiful, so weak and helpless?

The sound of bones shattering was like firecrackers going off—snap, crackle, pop—yet Shi Chengjin showed no intention of stopping. The cat’s wails grew weaker, and soon its body, battered and broken, lost all semblance of its former shape, resembling nothing so much as a smashed baguette. Any bone that still protruded was crushed flat by Shi Chengjin’s relentless blows; not a single edge remained.

After a while, the cat could make no sound at all. Its body stiffened, its eyes grew dull, and that nauseating, ominous aura faded from its form. “Tch! Couldn’t even put up a fight,” Shi Chengjin spat, tossing the cat’s corpse carelessly to the ground. “It’s dead now.”

At those words, the taut string in Chang Yu’s heart suddenly relaxed. He no longer needed to fear the ginger cat might spring upon them at any moment and finish them off. As the tension left him, a tidal wave of pain crashed over him, making him cry out in agony. “It hurts, it hurts!” His wail echoed through the silent alley, startling everyone.

“What the hell was that for? You gave me a fright!” Shi Chengjin scowled in annoyance.

“Do you think I want to scream? I’m really in pain!” Chang Yu was embarrassed to show weakness before the others, but the pain was completely out of his control—his cry was utterly involuntary.

Earlier, with his nerves stretched tight, he hadn’t noticed the pain, but now, with the crisis past, it became unbearable. Perhaps he’d been so focused on the disaster that he’d had no energy left to care about himself.

“Master, you lied to me,” Chang Yu thought bitterly. “The Qi Condensation stage is useless, not impressive at all!” He was furious at his own incompetence—not only had he failed to show his bravery before Katerina, but he’d utterly lost face in front of her. Worst of all, he’d ended up as little more than a sidekick to Shi Chengjin, with no trace of a protagonist’s presence.

“Brother Shi, I used to think you were just a show-off, but I see now, you really are incredible!” Feng Sanpao gazed at Shi Chengjin with open admiration, his eyes sparkling. Even the man’s gorilla-like jutting lips, pitch-black skin, and the shining black hair on his feet now seemed inexplicably dashing to him.

“Haha! I like the way you talk, kid!” Shi Chengjin chuckled, scratching his backside and then sniffing his fingers. Watching this, Katerina’s lip twitched in disgust and she shuddered.

“Hey, you, can you stand?” he called out to Chang Yu from a distance.

Chang Yu tried to stand, but his legs gave out and he slumped back to the ground. “No, I can’t. I think I’m dying.”

This was no joke. Perhaps from blood loss, Chang Yu’s vision was doubled and a shrill whine rang in his ears. For a moment, genuine fear gripped him—the fear that he might die young, never see Fatty Wang, his beloved Master, or the lovely Osmanthus Comrade again.

“Sasiji, are you alright?” Feng Sanpao hurried to his side, holding up two fingers. “How many do you see?”

Chang Yu shook his head; though there were two fingers, they looked like four. “Sanpao…” he groaned, “I fear…my time has come.”

His voice grew fainter, the world before him spinning like a kaleidoscope. “But I’m not ready. I’m still young…”

Seeing his tragic state and hearing his faltering words, Feng Sanpao’s eyes filled with tears. He threw himself into the role in an instant. “Sasiji, you can’t die! I want you alive, I need you alive…”

He gripped Chang Yu’s arm, shaking him so hard it nearly finished him off then and there.

“Cough, cough!” The pain from his wounds made Chang Yu cough violently. With the last of his strength, he reached out to Feng Sanpao, who immediately grasped his cold, pale hand.

“I have one last wish. If I can’t fulfill it…I won’t die in peace,” Chang Yu said.

“What is it? I’ll do it for you,” Feng Sanpao promised.

“Go to the orphanage at XXX Road, X County. That’s where I was born and raised.” Feng Sanpao nodded solemnly, his face full of sorrow. “I understand, Sasiji. You want to be buried where you grew up, don’t you?”

Chang Yu shook his head vigorously. “What I mean is…find the orphanage director and tell him…I, Chang Yu, never lied. I really can…practice immortal arts!”

“Of course! You truly can use immortal arts, I’ll testify for you,” Feng Sanpao replied resolutely.

“Idiot!” Shi Chengjin strode over and gave Feng Sanpao a rough slap on the neck. “Who’s going to believe a lunatic like you?”

“Enough wasting time! Let’s go!” He grabbed Chang Yu by the collar, lifted him, and slung him over his shoulder.

This was the first time Chang Yu had been this close to Shi Chengjin. The man’s physique was formidable, his shoulders hard as iron knots digging painfully into Chang Yu’s tender belly. Worse yet was the unbearable stench that assaulted his nostrils, making his stomach churn—he nearly vomited then and there. Nearly, but not quite; he just managed not to spew all over Shi Chengjin.

“We’re all on the same team. Don’t say I never looked out for you. Since you can’t walk, I’ll help you out,” Shi Chengjin declared, striding toward the electric tricycle with Chang Yu dangling from his shoulder like a bamboo pole, swaying with every step.

“With injuries like yours, you won’t die just yet,” he assured Chang Yu.

“If the disaster didn’t kill me, you probably will…just put me down!” Chang Yu cried weakly. He looked imploringly at Katerina, who was following behind Shi Chengjin, her nose pinched shut. “Katerina, would you carry me instead?”

He didn’t actually mind being carried—he just had certain requirements about who did the carrying. If the beautiful Katerina were to carry him, he wouldn’t object at all. Just the thought of it made his wounds ache a little less.

But Katerina ignored him, shrinking away as if avoiding the plague. “I’m just a weak woman, I couldn’t possibly carry you. Just stay put and behave yourself,” she refused, her distaste obvious. After all, having made contact with Shi Chengjin, Chang Yu must reek as well—Katerina had no intention of touching him and just wanted to stay as far away as possible.

“See? I’m the one who’s good to you!” Shi Chengjin tossed him onto the back of the electric tricycle as if he were a sack of potatoes. With a thud, Chang Yu’s head slammed into the iron bed of the cart, making his vision spin.

Shi Chengjin then swung himself onto the front seat and called to Feng Sanpao and Katerina, “What are you waiting for? Get in!”

The familiar hum of the electric motor filled the air, and the tricycle sped down the alley, bouncing over every bump and accompanied by the occasional groan of pain from Chang Yu.

In the distance, the ginger cat’s discarded corpse suddenly dissolved into drifting black smoke, vanishing into the air like dandelion seeds scattered by the wind. The monstrous disaster, so immense a moment before, disappeared without a trace, as if it had never existed at all.

But Chang Yu saw none of this.