Chapter 31: The Moocher Part 1

When Chen Ji came down from the ride, his hair resembled a bird’s nest.

Second Master Huang shook out his fur. 【Kid, how was that? Your Second Grandpa Huang’s speed is something else, right!】

Chen Ji silently gave a thumbs up. In his eyes, Second Master Huang was no longer just some ordinary weasel spirit. No, he was a Yellow Weasel supercar! Supercar speed paired with off-road truck performance—whoever rode it would rave about it!

Second Master Huang grinned smugly, his fangs—thicker than Chen Ji’s arm—gleaming in the thin morning light.

Chen Ji silently took a step back.

Second Master Huang bared his teeth. 【All good, I’m heading out~! I’ll stick around nearby. Just give a shout when you’re heading home!】

With that, his massive figure dissipated like smoke, and the nimble, adorable little yellow weasel darted into the thick fog.

Chen Ji walked a little farther toward the village and spotted Uncle Liu at the entrance, anxiously scanning left and right. He called out, “Uncle Liu! Over here!”

Uncle Liu hurried over right away. “Xiao Chen, you’re finally here! Hurry, hurry!”

Xiao Wang’s family ran the only express station in Shangyang Village. Chen Ji wouldn’t brag about much, but he’d never forget the route there after one trip. He ran even faster than Uncle Liu. Before they even arrived, chaotic cries and laughter echoed from the distance.

“Hahahahaha—! I’m not crazy—! I won’t take any medicine—!”

“Hehe! Die soon! Die soon—!”

“Second Uncle, Second Uncle, don’t hang yourself! Second Uncle, come down quick—!”

Chen Ji halted in his tracks. Peering closely, he saw a faint layer of black qi shrouding the express station. It wasn’t too obvious in the dim morning light, but the instinctive disgust roiling in Chen Ji’s gut couldn’t be faked.

It was just disgust—no goosebumps, no chills. That meant the thing’s power was mediocre, at least nowhere near as intimidating as Second Master Huang.

Uncle Liu panted as he ran. “Xiao Wang’s at the hospital. He went into something like an epileptic fit, convulsing all over. His parents and grandpa hadn’t even started crying before he collapsed again!”

Chen Ji nodded. The express station’s entrance was packed with villagers—lifelong neighbors from decades past. Some had already pushed inside to help restrain people; those outside couldn’t squeeze through.

Uncle Liu bellowed, “Make way! Make way! Chen Ji’s here!”

The villagers, who had been whispering among themselves, fell instantly silent. They turned as one to stare at Chen Ji, their gazes full of earnest hope. Chen Ji’s scalp prickled under the scrutiny as the crowd parted to the sides, clearing a path.

Not long ago, Old Lady Liu from Uncle Liu’s family had been burning with fever that wouldn’t break. Chen Ji had gone in for a look and whipped up some folk remedy. By the time he emerged, her fever had broken—a tale that had spread like wildfire. On top of that, plenty of the elders knew Chen Ji’s grandfather had been the go-to man for “external ailments” back in the day. They figured Chen Ji had taken up the family trade and treated him with utmost respect.

Those days, the rules were ironclad; anything smacking of feudal superstition was off-limits. To draw the line, regular doctors handled illnesses that arose naturally from the body, while “external medicine” practitioners dealt with bizarre sicknesses that came from gods-know-where.

Who among them could claim they’d never fall ill? Especially with these “external” cases—no one even knew where to find help, so why risk offending such a person? If Chen Ji hadn’t returned so recently, and if the villagers knew him better than just “the college boy who worked in the city and suddenly came back to the mountains,” folks would’ve been lining up at his door to play matchmaker ages ago!

Chen Ji braced himself and stepped inside, where the scene was one of utter pandemonium.

Xiao Wang’s Wife had her eyes rolled back white, her mouth stretched into an exaggerated, terrifying grin as she cackled madly. Her body twitched sporadically, hoarse roars of “I’m not crazy” ripping from her throat. Two brawny middle-aged women gripped her arms from either side, pinning her to a chair—it was plain they’d poured real muscle into keeping her from bolting.

Second Uncle Wang balanced precariously on the table, eyes rolled back white, face blank and vacant. A hemp rope dangled from the rafter; every so often, he grabbed it to loop around his neck. Two burly men wrestled with him—one clutching his legs, the other perched on a stool to try hauling him down. But Second Uncle Wang teetered too high up, and they feared a bad fall, so they held back, watching hawk-eyed to stop the hanging without forcing it.

An old man sat cross-legged on the bed. An eerie smile twisted his face, though his eyes were pitch black. He leered gleefully at the room’s mayhem. No one dared stay close; two young fellows in their early twenties hovered a meter away, eyes locked on him.

Small wonder Uncle Liu had dragged him down here. This looked nothing like ordinary sickness—more like classic possession.

Uncle Liu said quickly, “That’s Xiao Wang’s dad, mom, and grandpa! Xiao Chen, give them a look!”

Chen Ji stayed planted at the door. Of the three, his gaze fixed on the old man on the bed. A huge black shadow coiled behind him. Chen Ji blinked as a chill pierced his heart. Looking closer, he made it out clearly: the shadow was a fox shadow—much like Second Master Huang’s. This was merely its silhouette; the real body lurked elsewhere.

【Maybe you’re just used to Second Grandpa Huang? … Why do I think this one’s not so bad? Why does it look about the size of Second Master Huang’s disciples and grand-disciples?】 System Cat said.

【I think so too.】 Chen Ji whispered.

Previously, when Chen Ji had caught Second Master Huang and the little yellow weasels clustered at the temple gate, their shadows had been about this size.

The black fox’s gaze landed on Chen Ji, who felt a sudden warmth bloom in his chest. He knew it was the yellow talisman from the City God Temple’s Daoist priest kicking in.

“Xiao Chen, what do you make of this…?” Uncle Liu whispered. “Should we clear the room?”

“No, just shut the door. Keep everyone inside,” Chen Ji said at once. Without them, who’d hold down these possessed folks? Even if the spirit sicced the three on him for a beatdown, he couldn’t take them. Chen Ji whispered back, “I don’t have much confidence… but I’ll give it my best shot.”

Uncle Liu nodded and slammed the door shut. Better to try something than nothing—for the Wang family’s state, letting go wasn’t an option. Getting them to a hospital would take an ambulance with straps!

Chen Ji had few options. He fished a handful of Big White Rabbit milk candies from his backpack, peeled one, set it on a plate, and placed it beside the old man. The fox and old man snapped their gazes to it. Chen Ji offered, “Want to try one?”

The old man’s withered hand shot out—blindingly fast, like a starving tiger pouncing—and crammed it into his mouth. He squinted blissfully, clearly relishing it. Xiao Wang’s Wife and Second Uncle Wang’s convulsions eased too.

The candy softened fast. The old man chomped voraciously, drool spilling from his lips before he could swallow. His eyes bulged savagely, neck veins throbbing—and the fox shadow behind him mirrored every motion.

Chen Ji nodded amiably. “If you like it, I’ll get you more.”

Now he had the measure of it. Likely some burning grudge. Second Master Huang had mentioned in passing: easy to bewitch someone into madness or devour them outright. But possession? That drained real power. No one bothered unless they had a score to settle.

For revenge, why possess when you could just glamour them into drowning or hanging?

Possession meant getting up close and personal to vent.

Chen Ji moved to the side, rummaging for hot water to brew milk tea and peel more candies—like he owned the place. Uncle Liu watched, heart pounding.

“Xiao Chen…” Uncle Liu’s mouth opened.

Chen Ji called out, “Uncle, lend a hand! Everyone’s been at this all night—time for tea and a bite!”

“…Right!” Uncle Liu bustled over, grabbing cups and tea leaves with Chen Ji. Keeping a straight face, Chen Ji asked, “Uncle Liu, who’s the head of the household here?”

“Me! Me! I can call the shots!” Uncle Liu blurted.

With the family scattered—some hospitalized, some possessed—this in-law was the only one left to hold things together.

Chen Ji nodded. “Got it.”

“Xiao Chen, what’re you up to? Give your uncle a hint first?” Uncle Liu pressed.

“Looks like they crossed a Great Immortal.” Chen Ji nodded at the old man. “Uncle Liu, know if anyone’s hurt a fox around here lately—or in the last few years?”

“Fox?” Uncle Liu gaped. “You mean a fox spirit’s possessing them?!”

Chen Ji inclined his head. “Sure looks that way.”

Uncle Liu racked his brains, then shook his head. “No clue, honestly. We don’t mess with foxes or weasels much—figure they’ve got spirits. If we cross paths unluckily, we shoo ’em off and done.”

“Then I’ll ask around.” Chen Ji frowned. “Call 120 for the ambulance first. Lives first.”

“Already did! Already on it!” Uncle Liu said.

Chen Ji carried over milk tea and peeled candies. The tea was perfectly temperate, the sweets beaming milky sweetness. Fox and old man fixated hungrily; they snatched them before he could set down and guzzled away.

Chen Ji waited patiently. When the milk tea neared empty, he said, “Fox Grandpa, grudges are best resolved, not nursed. How’d this family wrong you? Name your price—we can talk it out.”

The words landed like a bomb. The folks restraining Xiao Wang’s Wife and Second Uncle Wang froze mid-breath. One youth yelped, “A real monster?! What?!”

Chen Ji ignored them, eyes on the old man.

The old man munched candy and cackled—heh heh—his aged voice squeaky like a seven-year-old’s. “For your smarts, kid, I won’t kill ’em… I just want them to hurt like I did!”

“Tell the others to back off—no need holding ’em. I won’t let the hanger actually choke out—half-dead, and I’ll drop him. Send the woman to drown in the river—half-dead, she’ll float back. This old coot? I’ll squat here till doomsday.”

His expression twisted stranger still. “Every grudge has its mark, every debt its payer. Stay out of it, youngster!”

Chen Ji wasn’t buying that half-death would end it. The fox’s game was no mercy kills—just pure torment till it tired of the sport. Then? Either dust off and vanish or finish them off first.

Chen Ji said, “Such a big grudge? Fox Grandpa, please point the way. How exactly did we offend you this badly?”

“I’ve already told you, this has nothing to do with you.” The old man suddenly bulged his eyes wide, as if they were about to pop out of their sockets. “You insist on sticking your nose in, huh? Fine, if you’re going to meddle, I’ll have to teach you a lesson!”