Chapter 10: Python Immortal: Reckless Driving, Huh? I’ll Tie You Up at the End of the Road

When the car came to a stop, Huang Kuaipao was the first to leap down from Lu You’s shoulder.

The ride had been brutally bumpy—so bumpy that Great Immortal Huang had long since hit his limit. It had jolted him the whole way there, jolted him the whole way back after being driven off, and now it was jolting him again on the return trip.

Yet Huang Kuaipao didn’t dare say a word, terrified that Lu You would make him get off and run alongside on his own four legs.

He Zhuchun had been battered just as badly; half his backside had gone numb. He stepped out of the car and stamped his feet—and looked up, only to lock eyes with Chen Zhuzhuo, who was resting on a folding stool.

He Zhuchun: “…”

Chen Zhuzhuo: “…”

Chen Zhuzhuo glanced left and right, snatched up a wrench, and stood.

He Zhuchun retreated two steps and whispered to Lu You, “I think he’s about to beat the two of us up.”

“He won’t.” Lu You parked at his leisure, glanced at the e-bike charger, considered it, then decided not to take it after all. He turned to face Chen Zhuzhuo.

Chen Zhuzhuo’s grip tightened around the wrench, his voice harsh. “Didn’t I tell you to get lost? What’s the meaning of crawling back?”

“Don’t be hasty. We mean no harm.”

Lu You stepped closer, his pale amber pupils fixed on the muscles straining taut across Chen Zhuzhuo’s body from sheer tension.

“We’re here to help you,” Lu You told him.

“Help me?” Chen Zhuzhuo sneered. “Then leave me alone and stop disturbing my life. That would be the greatest help of all.”

“Are you sure?” Lu You asked. “If I leave, do you really think anyone else would dare deal with your father’s matter?”

At those words—even He Zhuchun, the mere bystander, shot Lu You an extra look and asked quietly, “Great Immortal, you’ve gone and started consulting on a case again?”

“Mm,” Lu You said softly.

Clang—

That was the sound of the wrench hitting the ground.

Chen Zhuzhuo dropped the wrench and strode forward two steps; he was about to seize Lu You when He Zhuchun blocked the way and shoved him back.

He staggered from the push, yet those murky eyes stayed locked dead on Lu You as he demanded, his voice like a blade, “How do you know about my father?!”

“Consulted, of course.” Lu You extended a hand. “Let me introduce myself. My surname is Lu. In folk parlance, my trade is called shamanic trance dance—I specialize in handling worldly affairs entangled by Yin entities.”

Chen Zhuzhuo didn’t move for a moment; he stared at the outstretched hand for a long beat, and when he spoke again his voice was far calmer. “Why should I believe you?”

Whether it was illusion or not, Lu You seemed to cast a faint glance at something behind Chen Zhuzhuo, then said, “Your father has a bad back, doesn’t he?”

Chen Zhuzhuo’s body shuddered.

Lu You went on, “External trauma to the lower back sixteen years ago. Illness of the waist from combined causes ten years ago. A failed surgery seven years ago. A deterioration three years ago—and by now he can barely stand. Am I right?”

The way Chen Zhuzhuo looked at him changed.

Lu You still said with regret, “My apologies. My abilities are limited—I can only make out the nature and depth of the lumbar affliction, not the specific disease.”

Chen Zhuzhuo swallowed hard, and in the next instant his eyes turned sharp again. He said anyway, “A hospital could find all of that out too.”

“Then what about your daughter?” Lu You asked.

Chen Zhuzhuo’s head snapped up. “How do you know I have a daughter?”

Lu You produced a smile. “Mr. Chen, allow me to introduce myself once more—I am a Spirit Medium Shaman. So, how has your daughter been lately? Hasn’t she told you her back hurts so badly she can’t sleep?”

He Zhuchun crossed his arms and drifted closer to Lu You. “Great Shaman, why didn’t you ever tell me you were this capable? I thought all you could do was exorcise ghosts—who knew your divination game was this strong too.”

Lu You answered him, “The very first thing I posted on my storefront was ‘Spiritual Consultation.'”

He Zhuchun froze, cast his mind back—and immediately recalled the huge red characters on the door and the flickering, poorly connected LED light.

He said, “…I suppose it really was.”

Chen Zhuzhuo stood facing the two of them and asked Lu You, “Can it be saved?”

The question came out of nowhere, yet Lu You understood.

“Take me to see the situation first.”

“Good.”

Chen Zhuzhuo swiped a hand across his face and turned toward the workshop. “I’ll go get the car.”

“Wait!” Lu You called him back, then pulled the charger from the bike basket. “Put it on the charger for my e-bike.”

Chen Zhuzhuo: “…Fine.”

The car Chen Zhuzhuo drove was a secondhand Volkswagen.

The interior wasn’t clean—the floor mats crusted with years of dust and grease stains, the seat covers still marked with a child’s watercolor pen. His little daughter must have drawn on them in one of her mischievous moods.

Lu You climbed into the back seat first; He Zhuchun hesitated a moment, then clambered in after him. Chen Zhuzhuo took the driver’s seat, locked the doors and windows, and only then started the engine.

“Let’s head to my parents’ place to see my father first.”

The workshop where Chen Zhuzhuo worked already sat in one of the city’s remotest fringes. After the car wheeled around and drove a while, He Zhuchun watched the scenery through the window grow bleaker stretch by stretch—high-rises and storefronts vanishing entirely. He did the math: past one more belt of trees lay the suburbs.

He Zhuchun knew this city’s outskirts—abandoned factories and empty lots, hardly a soul in sight, let alone residential buildings where old folks lived. Something felt wrong. He slid back into his seat without a ripple and brushed Lu You’s hand.

Lu You had his eyes closed again, resting.

He Zhuchun worried, and pressed harder; the moment his hand knocked against Lu You’s, Lu You’s middle and ring fingers hooked it, palm meeting fingertip. The warmth from the other side came through—faintly cool.

Yet He Zhuchun, inexplicably, felt hot, a thin sheen of sweat rising almost at once.

Lu You’s fingers drifted lightly across that sweat-damp palm, slowly tracing out a single character.

—Safe.

At once, the panic so carefully hidden between his brows settled down too. He Zhuchun smacked his lips, reassured.

He even had the presence of mind to pick the whole affair apart.

Who was Lu You? The Great Immortal who drove off the Negative Yin Peach Blossom Karma in a few moves! And a Great Immortal who foresaw everything besides—still lounging there with his eyes shut, pretending to nap. How could he possibly be unaware of danger closing in? If he showed no reaction, then everything was still under control. With the Great Immortal underwriting it all—no panic warranted.

So He Zhuchun, imitating Lu You, shut his eyes as well, loosened his body, and rested.

All told, the car ran a little over twenty minutes; judging by the feel of the road, He Zhuchun reckoned they were just passing through the abandoned factory zone.

Sure enough, Chen Zhuzhuo pulled over and stretched his arm out, rummaging through the passenger side. He Zhuchun opened his eyes, glanced sideways—and found that Lu You’s eyes had opened too, watching Chen Zhuzhuo’s movements coldly.

Only after Chen Zhuzhuo had rummaged a while longer did Lu You speak up: “The knife isn’t in the black briefcase in the passenger seat. You took it to the workshop last time to pry open walnuts and never brought it back.”

The words landed, and the other two went rigid, turning their heads in unison to gape at him.

Lu You lifted his eyelids. “What, am I wrong?”

Chen Zhuzhuo then hurled the briefcase in his hand viciously onto the floor mat.

Lu You gave a soft laugh. “Looks like I called it.”

Watching that faint, thread-thin smile on Lu You’s face, He Zhuchun suddenly decided this Great Immortal had a real gift for provoking people.

And provoked, Chen Zhuzhuo roared: “So what? Even without the knife, I can still kill the two of you!”

“Mr. Chen, I believe there’s been a misunderstanding between us.” Lu You sighed. “Why insist on killing us?”

There was something delightful about that phrasing—He Zhuchun couldn’t tell which part of it hooked his funny bone, but in so grave a moment he actually failed to hold back a snort.

Chen Zhuzhuo’s bloodshot eyes swung toward him of course.

He Zhuchun waved his hands in hurried disclaimer: “I just laugh at everything, no offense meant. Truly sorry about that.”

Lu You: “Enough nonsense, Mr. Chen. Do you want to fight first and talk after, or talk properly right now?”

Chen Zhuzhuo exploded, snatching up some random object and hurling it—Lu You tipped his head aside and let it pass.

He put away his smile, his voice much colder. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

At that, He Zhuchun shoved up his sleeve outright, baring a solid, powerful forearm. Chen Zhuzhuo had moved too fast for him to react just now; only now did it sink in that this man had genuinely meant to kill them both.

Anger churning in his chest, he threw a vicious punch. Chen Zhuzhuo dodged on instinct, momentum slamming his body back against the seatback—and then, all at once, the world tilted. He turned his head to find the driver’s seat somehow laid flat by Lu You; his balance shattered, and he dropped onto the seat.

Panic seized Chen Zhuzhuo; he moved to spring up, but Lu You’s hand was already there, quick as lightning, pressing down his forehead. His torso arched up toward the car roof, only to collapse heavily back under its own weight. In that one instant of lost footing, both his wrists were seized; He Zhuchun fished a rope from the passenger side and bound the two wrists tightly together, arms raised overhead.

Unresigned, Chen Zhuzhuo kept struggling—several attempts to rise, all failing—before it dawned on him with a shock that the young man pinning him down seemed possessed of extraordinary strength, so great it was like a mountain pressing down on him.

Chen Zhuzhuo tilted his head back for a look at Lu You’s face—and in a slip of the eye, glimpsed what seemed to be a pair of pale green, frigid vertical pupils.

He Zhuchun had sensed something off about Lu You the moment he made his move; now he too tipped his head low for a look at Lu You’s eyes.

“Your eyes look different from before,” he said.

“It’s Mang Tianqing,” Lu You answered.

Mang Tianqing—a name He Zhuchun had seen on Lu You’s Altar Roster. He understood at once: “You’ve invoked spirits again.”

“Mm.”

“Spirit invocation?” Chen Zhuzhuo had clearly sensed the wrongness too. “What spirit invocation?”

Lu You said, “Mr. Chen, I told you long ago—my trade is shamanic trance dance. Spirit invocation is merely my foundation.”

Perhaps it was the sheer contrast of Lu You’s utterly earnest face describing his singular profession in such professional terms.

He Zhuchun failed to hold it in and laughed again—louder this time. Lu You looked back at him; he only said, “Nothing, I just find the way you talk amusing.”

Those sharp vertical pupils fixed on him, his pupils contracting swiftly. Lu You turned back around and went on watching Chen Zhuzhuo.

Chen Zhuzhuo faced death like a man returning home, tipping his chin up: “You’re sent by Li Bingjun, aren’t you? I should have guessed he wouldn’t let me off so easily… Do whatever you like with my life. I ask only one thing of you—leave my family alone.”

A grown man, and mid-sentence his voice broke. He sobbed twice, his words gone wet with weeping: “I’ve failed my parents. Failed my wife and child. The livelihood of the whole household, old and young, rests on me—and I can’t care for my parents, can’t shield my child, and my wife’s health is poor. After I die the whole weight of this family falls on her. I’ve truly… truly…”

Chen Zhuzhuo abruptly broke into great heaving sobs.

Lu You was irritated clear through by the wailing, his brow creasing; even Mang Tianqing, wailed at, loosened his hold on the apertures and slunk off to one side.

Huang Kuaipao stood on He Zhuchun’s shoulder, waving a paw in greeting at the azure-black python: “Brother Tianqing.”

Mang Tianqing gave him a look. “What are you doing standing on someone else at will?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Huang Kuaipao stretched out his small dark paws. “He won’t mind.”

Mang Tianqing said, “Deciding things for others again.”

Huang Kuaipao, thick-skinned as ever, just grinned and grinned.

Meanwhile, He Zhuchun picked the lock, fished a length of hemp rope from the trunk, hog-tied Chen Zhuzhuo, and dumped him in the back seat. He took the driver’s seat; Lu You sat in the passenger’s.

He Zhuchun started the engine with practiced ease and drove back, chattering as he went: “Driving us out to the middle of nowhere—that was silencing the witnesses, wasn’t it? And you a PhD student, no less. Did it never cross your mind that with technology this advanced, even if you silenced the two of us out here, the police could trace you through the street cameras on every corner? Then off you go to eat prison food—and wouldn’t your wife still be the one holding up the household?”

Chen Zhuzhuo: “Better that than being dragged back by you two. I’d kill you and turn myself in, sit a few years, and still come out to care for my parents in their old age. But if you take me back, there’s no coming back at all.”

“Friend, throwing mud on us in broad daylight like this—doesn’t seem quite fair, does it?” He Zhuchun steadied the wheel and met his eyes in the rearview mirror. “What exactly told you we were sent by Li Bingjun to fetch you? That the two of us happened to mention his name?”

Chen Zhuzhuo said, “Better to wrongly kill a hundred than let a single one slip through.”

“Damn it, is there seawater sloshing around in your skull?”

He Zhuchun was goaded into cursing: “Did it never occur to you that we might be good people? That if you killed us you’d still go rot in a great big prison? The way I see it, this isn’t you looking out for your family—this is you worn out from work, hunting for an excuse to go rest in prison for a few years!”

He snorted coldly and marveled: “An idiot with an entire ocean for brains.”