A Good-for-Nothing

273. Fury

Translator: Dragon Rider

The man winked at He Zheng when stooping down. He Zheng found that the ropes binding him were rather loose and immediately came to understand what was going on. As the man turned around, He Zheng without a second thought reached into his bosom for a Fu (Fu is 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).

But He Zheng forgotten that even Shadow, his sword, had been taken away. How was it possible that his abductors had not taken away the Fu in his pockets as well?

“Oh, he’s stunned.” The man chuckled and then said to sulky-faced Zhou Yihao, “How about I let you handle him?”

“I’ll kill you!” thundered Zhou Yihao. He Zheng dodged aside only to find that Zhou Yihao’s target was not him but that man!

“Eek?” The man hesitated momentarily before he swiveled around and slapped Zhou Yihao’s back hard. He Zheng saw a column of black gas shoot out from the man’s hand and with that Zhou Yihao was instantly brought to the ground.

“Until our paths cross again, He Zheng. Thank you for doing me such a great favor.”

With that, the man vanished out of thin air.

Zhou Yihao scrambled to his feet after only a short while. At the same time, the men Zhou Yihao had brought with him quickly flooded inside.

Clearly he had made adequate preparations, for a dozen strong men rushed into the narrow basement in the blink of an eye.

He Zheng, a little man, was instantly surrounded.

Zhou Yihao pulled himself to his feet. He had scraped his forehead during the fall, his whole face now covered in blood, making him look terrifying. “He Zheng, originally I had no intention to kill you, but it seems you’re not in luck today. You leave me no choice.”

He Zheng did not believe a single word of Zhou Yihao’s nonsense. He bit his fingertip, standing bolt upright, facing those men who had just flooded into the room, no fear on his face whatsoever. He moved his sore arms and sneered, “I was wondering why you hooked up with He Yu. It turns out you’re a bad seed as well. I never tried drawing Fu without a writing brush before. Today I’m going to give it a shot. We’ll see how well my lightning Fu works.”

He Zheng had some time ago memorized the patterns of Elementary Lightning Fu and Advanced Lightning Fu. He had a contingency plan. His abductors had taken away his Fu and sword, but probably had not bargained on him being able to draw Fu without a writing brush. However, He Zheng was wrong. The culprit had not gone to such trouble to get him to this place just to deal with Zhou Yihao.

With the first stroke in mid-air, composure still on He Zheng’s face, He Zheng felt a sudden stab of pain in his heart as though a fist had clenched around it. He let out an anguished cry, sank to the ground and started groaning in pain.

“Restrain him!” Zhou Yihao finally tore off his pretence, revealing his true colors.

If He Zheng died in this room, there would be no trouble; if not, Zhou Yihao would be the one that ended up dead!

He Zheng was wheezing painfully, the agony getting more intense by the second, his forehead instantly beaded with cold sweat. He Zheng felt it increasingly difficult to breathe, his vision growing dimmer.

The air in the vicinity suddenly started warming up. Someone gave an “Eek?” of astonishment. “Why does it suddenly become so hot?”

Zhou Yihao reprimanded, “Cut the shit and get it over with!”

“Y–Yes!” The group of strong men lunged at He Zheng, who was writhing around on the floor in agony. They had no choice but to overpower him where he was first.

Before any of the strong men could touch He Zheng’s leg, one of them suddenly stiffened. He had not even stooped down yet. He slowly looked down at his chest and saw a short length of blood-stained sword emerge from his chest. Blood quickly dyed the front of his clothes red. As the sword was pulled out, the man keeled over, rigid as a board, his eyes bulging from their sockets, staring fixedly at the yellowish ceiling, unable to utter another word.

Li Zong’s unemotional eyes swept across everybody present and eventually rested on Zhou Yihao’s face.

“Zhou Yihao.” Li Zong’s icy voice made Zhou Yihao shudder all over.

“Li–Li Zong.” Zhou Yihao’s voice was faintly tremulous. He looked incredulously at this man who was as powerful as a god and as cold-blooded as a devil. Out of fear that the weak normally felt when faced with the strong, his legs gave way and he slumped to his knees.

All Zhou Yihao’s clothes were soaking wet with cold sweat and sticking to his body, his throat so tight he was unable to speak.

Li Zong shifted his gaze to He Zheng who was now unconscious. Seeing that the dead man’s blood had dripped onto He Zheng’s face, Li Zong frowned, bent from the waist and scooped up He Zheng, conveniently wiping the blood off He Zheng’s fair-skinned face.

It was after he checked that there was no visible wounds on He Zheng that a hint of affection appeared in Li Zong’s apathetic eyes.

Li Zong glanced at him and suddenly the whole room was filled with flames except for where Zhou Yihao was kneeling. Zhou Yihao’s brow was covered in sweat. There was no telling whether it was because of his fear or the heat.

The flames mercilessly devoured those strong men. Cries of despair emanated from the inferno. Zhou Yihao’s neck was stiff and he did not dare look back. Intermittent yells for help were heard one after another like the sound of the Grim Reaper coming to claim lives, making Zhou Yihao’s face progressively paler. Eventually, as the last anguished screech which sounded as though its owner had disembodied his soul died away, Zhou Yihao’s countenance was as white as snow.

He smelled a peculiar scent mixed with a faint aroma. Zhou Yihao, knowing what the source of that smell was, couldn’t help but clap his hands to his chest and start vomiting violently.

Zhou Yihao, having been extremely tense for so long, unable to hang on any longer, keeled over.

The three of them were now the only ones alive in the room.

…

Wei Cheng and the others had been waiting outside and were instantly on the alert as they saw flames burst out of the bungalow without warning. The night sky overhead was dyed fiery, thick black smoke billowing out of the windows.

“Shit! Why is it on fire?!”

“We need to get in there to help them!”

When they streaked up to the doorway, Li Zong had walked out with He Zheng in his arms, followed by a man whose eyes were tightly shut. Tao Wujiu felt that Li Zong was controlling the suspect like a Xiangxi necromancer manipulating a corpse. “Supt. Li, who’s this guy?” he asked, his eyes widening with astonishment.

“Check He Zheng and see if he’s injured.” Li Zong handed He Zheng to Tao Wujiu, who hurriedly examined He Zheng carefully.

“He’s fine. Just in a coma,” said Tao Wujiu.

Li Zong said nothing, a frown on his brow.

Wei Cheng waited for a while and then said in a deep voice, “Supt. Li, did you see another young man in there apart from He Zheng?”

Li Zong blandly glanced at him. “All survivors are in front of you.”

The look on Wei Cheng’s face froze and he was silent for quite a while.

The raging flames in the single-story house were getting increasingly fierce. Both those that should be in there and those that shouldn’t were reduced to ashes. Chen Qianlin and the others felt a leaden sensation setting in the pits of their stomachs. They had all heard those cries of despair, but none of them mentioned it. But they did not dare believe that Supt. Li, who had always been a cool-minded man, had acted so impulsively.

But if it were any of them who had found that the one he loved the most had been abducted and unaccounted for, he would probably have acted uncharacteristically as well.

Nobody could have foreseen that Zhou Yihao would be involved in this matter. Li Zong made a phone call to Han Zhuo, instructing him to inform the Zhou family of it and tell them to go to the department.

Zhou Congzhi had gone abroad on a tour of investigation. Presently Zhou Yize was the only member of the Zhou family who was available.

In SMB.

He Zheng was just comatose and had suffered no severe injuries. Li Zong was not comfortable with the idea of leaving He Zheng in a room alone, so he had brought He Zheng to his office.

He Zheng heard someone speaking as he regained part of his consciousness.

” … Zhou Yihao has demonic Qi in him. Even Tun Shanhai could smell it with his cat nose. In addition, not all of his demonic Qi is from the Demon King. He got some of it by converting people’s vital essence on his own.”

The babble of voices worsened He Zheng’s headache. He unconsciously let out a groan.

With a cool sensation in the middle of his forehead, He Zheng’s mind become clear. Then he felt his head supported and rested onto something soft. He slowly opened his eyes, his throat so dry and searing as though aflame.

“Water.”

Li Zong propped him up to let him lean against the back of the sofa, poured him a cup of water and then held it to his lips.

“How are you feeling?”

“Fine.” He Zheng looked much better after drinking some water. Still a little dizzy, he feebly gave his head a push with his wrist.

“What happened to me?” He Zheng could not quite understand.

Zhang Jingqiu lifted his eyelids, feeling that these youngsters never bothered to mind their manners in the presence of outsiders, that this kind of behavior was inappropriate. “Do you remember being kidnapped?”

On hearing this, He Zheng recalled what had happened. He panted for a brief moment, regained some of his strength, loosely closed his hand around Li Zong’s wrist and asked anxiously, “Where are Zhou Yihao and that man?”

“That man?” Zhang Jingqiu was momentarily astonished. Having astutely perceived something unusual, he asked in an urgent voice, “Which man are you referring to?”

His headache becoming even worse, He Zheng leaned into Li Zong’s embrace and, pushing his head with his hand repeatedly, he replied haltingly, “A ve–very young man … He said to Zhou Yihao th–that he wanted Zhou Yihao to be a scapegoat for his actions … He al–also thanked me, saying that I did him a favor … Damn it. My head hurts like hell.”

He Zheng knitted his brows. His head suddenly ached so badly as though it would explode. He kept hammering his head with his fist. “My he–head hurts.”

None of them had bargained on He Zheng reacting so intensely. Li Zong’s eyelids twitched and with that he grabbed He Zheng’s hand and asked, “What’s wrong, Steamed Bun? Why’s your head aching?”

“It hurts so badly, Li Zong. It hurts.” He Zheng’s forehead was beaded with cold sweat. It was as though someone were sawing his head with a blunt knife. The pain was so unbearable that he started butting Li Zong’s arm involuntarily. “It hurts, Li Zong. It hurts like hell,” he muttered through gritted teeth in a slightly choked voice.

Zhang Jingqiu, having realized that something was wrong, sprung to his feet from his chair. “I’ll get help!”

Li Zong’s lips were quivering. He ignored his heart which seemed to have suddenly expanded as though it were about to explode. With his somewhat tremendous hands, he held He Zheng tight and gently stroked He Zheng’s back. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

“Li Zong, help me.” He Zheng’s forehead was now red from the impacts, his voice muffled, his whole face tear-stained, which made him a piteous sight.

He was still crying in a tremulous voice, “Li Zong, help me!”

Li Zong’s hands were some unsteady. He impassively, lightly hit the back of He Zheng’s neck with a karate chop and with that He Zheng blacked out.

However, though unconscious, He Zheng still had a deep frown on his brow, agony written all over his face.

Staring at He Zheng’s ghastly white face, Li Zong felt as though a fist were clenching and unclenching around his heart. He Zheng’s every anguished cry caused him knifelike pain in the heart.

So this was how it felt to have his heart cut by a knife.

Li Zong crouched down and put He Zheng on the sofa to let him lie on his back. He Zheng forelocks were all wet with sweat. He stroked He Zheng’s wet forelocks off his forehead and then pecked it again and again. “Be good. Don’t be afraid. The pain is gone now.”

Though He Zheng’s eyes were closed, tears were still flowing from the corners of them, making him look quite pitiful.

Eventually, He Zheng was still hospitalized. His symptoms were obviously uncommon, but the others still had to try curing him with modern medicine. They first had him CT scanned. Li Zong, who had influential contacts, got the test results very soon, but the results suggested that there was nothing wrong with his brain.

The results did not strike them as reassuring but rendered them more worried about He Zheng’s condition. Since He Zheng was not suffering from any diseases, his sudden headache sure as hell had something to do with his recent abduction.