A Good-for-Nothing

220. The Quadruple Orientation Mirror (II)

Translator: Dragon Rider

He Zheng squatted beside Jiang Shuanglin’s body, studying it. After quite a while, he said, “If only Wu Fangshuo were here. He’s a psychic. I’m sure he could summon Jiang Shuanglin’s residual soul through spiritualism to let us extract the memories left inside.”

Zhao Fei’s eyes briefly roved at these words. “It surprises me that your pretty little head has such wisdom in it.”

“Wu Fangshuo? He’s already quit this year’s Special Talents Training Program (STTP), hasn’t he?” said Zu Zhichong.

Chen Qianlin lapsed into silence. They’d had a hard job finding this clue. Was this how far it could lead them?

“You guys are pretty lucky. There’s no psychic here, but you have me.”

All the other three shifted their gaze to Zhao Fei. Zu Zhichong smacked a fist into the palm of his hand. “That’s right. How could I have forgotten you?”

“Step aside,” said Zhao Fei.

“Let’s make some room for Master Zhao, boys. Chop, chop.” Zu Zhichong hurriedly drew the other two away from the body.

Zhao Fei produced a jade mirror from somewhere about his person. He Zheng remembered that back then when they’d been fighting the Human Devil that day, it had been with this mirror that Zhao Fei managed to attract the lightning conjured by his enchantment.

The mirror was plain-looking and of primitive simplicity. Patterns were engraved on the four edges of its frame, representing the four directions: east, west, south and north. The craftsmanship was rather rough, which showed that this artifact was indeed pretty ancient.

Zhao Fei trained the mirror at Jiang Shuanglin’s head and trunk.

Something eccentric happened. The black gas over Jiang Shuanglin’s body which previously could only be seen by He Zheng gradually substantialized. At the same time, the patch of gas of a different color above the middle of Jiang Shuanglin’s forehead also became visible to the others.

“So this is demonic Qi?” Chen Qianlin’s eyes widened with astonishment.

“Yeah.” Although Zhao Fei was infusing his internal energy into the jade mirror to make it work, he seemed quite relaxed while moving it. “This Quadruple Orientation Mirror of mine reveals the original form of everything. It also makes spirits and souls manifest themselves.”

The mirror flew from Zhao Fei’s hand and was suspended in mid-air straight above the middle of Jiang Shuanglin’s forehead.

“Do it.”

“You got it!” No sooner had Zhao Fei’s voice died away than Zu Zhichong cast a couple of Fu (a piece of rectangular paper on which magical figures are drawn by Chinese Taoist priests to invoke or expel spirits and bring good or ill fortune) forward and yelled, “Spirit-binding Fu, go!”

The Spirit-binding Fu accurately surrounded the soul floating above Jiang Shuanglin’s forehead. The patch of gas, encircled by the Fu, visible to the naked eye, flew up from Jiang Shuanglin’s forehead and then went squarely into the Quadruple Orientation Mirror.

“Done.” With a flick of his wrist, Zhao Fei magicked the Quadruple Orientation Mirror back into his hand.

“Let’s go.” Zu Zhichong gave Chen Qianlin and He Zheng each a push. The four of them leaned over, staring at the mirror Zhao Fei was holding.

None of the four of them saw their reflections in the mirror. Instead, the surface of the mirror blurred, rippled and then gradually returned to normal, and with that Jiang Shuanglin’s memories was slowly displayed in it.

…

Jiang Shuanglin sat in a daze for a while. It had been several days since Feng Ma had locked him up in this house. Jiang Shuanglin had thought of calling someone to get help, but Feng Ma had taken away everything that could be used to communicate with people outside. He wanted to yell for help, but he didn’t dare, because Feng Ma knew where his family lived and had threatened that his family would suffer if he disclosed his whereabouts to anybody.

As though feeling rather cold, Jiang Shuanglin held his upper arm tight, tears flowing down from the corners of his eyes. He was going to die. Feng Ma was going to kill him.

And then faint movements were heard in the doorway. Jiang Shuanglin walked around the partition wall to the door, looked through the peephole and saw a man standing outside, who was wearing a black peaked cap and a mask over his mouth, whose face he couldn’t see clearly.

“Are you in despair? I can help you.” The man’s voice sounded quite bizarre, as though it was a kind of synthesized voice.

Oddly enough, after a mere split second’s eye contact with the man, Jiang Shuanglin lost control of his hands and actually opened the door for him.

In fact, he shouldn’t have been able to open the door, because Feng Ma had locked the door from the outside through some kind of method.

However, when his hand touched the handle, the door automatically opened.

The man was standing in the doorway, and Jiang Shuanglin was standing inside.

“A desperate soul is less effective, but it should be acceptable.”

These were the last words that Jiang Shuanglin heard. When the man raised his arm, Jiang Shuanglin’s mind was put under his complete control. He could feel the strength in his body slowly drain away, his vision going blurry. In his mind, he heard that harsh voice once again.

“You could’ve become a big star, but you’re too stupid. Why didn’t you dare put up a fight? Why do you have to be such a coward? Look how you ended up now. You’re like a pathetic ant, one that could only watch as I take your life away bit by bit.”

“No, that’s not true,” contradicted Jiang Shuanglin inwardly.

But the man responded to him with an even meaner sneer.

As if the man was capable of brainwashing people with his voice, Jiang Shuanglin lost the power of resistance and lapsed into despair as the man kept repeating those words.

Yes, why was he so weak? If he had escaped, he wouldn’t have been in this poignant situation.

“You taste so bad,” said the man’s voice in his mind.

“We–Well, I’m… sorry…” Jiang Shuanglin’s voice trailed off.

Right at the time when the man was about to finish siphoning the last part of Jiang Shuanglin’s soul, Feng Ma’s voice came from the doorway.

“What a whammy,” muttered the man, releasing Jiang Shuanglin. Jiang Shuanglin’s eyes gradually closed, and the last scene he saw was the man jumping out through the window.

“I’m… really sorry. I’m… so useless.”

Jiang Shuanglin’s voice went straight into the minds of the four of them.