Under One Person: The Taoist Priest Descends the Mountain

Guan Shihua sighed, walked up to Shi Chuanxin, and slapped him on the back of the neck.

Ishikawa Shin's body went limp and he collapsed to the ground.

Guan Shihua turned to look at Lü Ci: "Doesn't your Lü family have the Soul-Clearing Technique? Give him one and erase his memories from these past few days."

Ishikawa Shin entered the country through legitimate channels, and there was an agreement with Natotong from the beginning that the company could not kill him even if they did not give him the knife.

To avoid unnecessary trouble, Guan Shihua thought it best to seal this person's memories.

Lu Ci shook his head: "No rush." ​​His eyes inadvertently glanced at Xia Liuqing. If this guy directly killed the person, he could shift all the blame. After all, Quanxing, ha... who doesn't know that?

Xia Liuqing looked at them with a grin: "Oh, so you two aren't planning to kill him?"

Lu Ci glanced at him: "Or you can try, we won't stop you."

Xia Liuqing chuckled: "With the two of you here, how could I dare to be presumptuous?"

He turned to look at the screen: "Let's look over there instead. Tsk tsk, how come these Tang Clan members are so easy to kill? It's almost over."

Inside the light screen, the last Tang Clan disciple's head fell to the ground.

When the person fell, their body was still in a forward-moving posture.

Lin Rufeng stood there, blood dripping from the sword in his hand.

Beside him, several Tang Clan disciples lay sprawled out, their bodies severed from their heads.

The sound of a car could be heard in the distance.

It wasn't just one car, it was many cars.

A rumbling sound came from all directions, growing ever closer.

More than a dozen small trucks drove in from all directions, their headlights swaying in the night, kicking up clouds of dust.

The leader glanced at the scene on the screen, his face turning pale. He grabbed the phone: "President Gao, the Tang Clan members are all gone!"

Gao Lian's voice came through the phone, both surprised and furious: "What?!"

The man swallowed hard. "Sect Leader Tang, there were a few disciples left, all... all gone."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone: "Where are our people?"

"They're all still here, but... they're all frozen in place."

Several rapid breaths came from the other end of the phone, and Gao Lian said sternly, "Keep a close watch on them! Don't let a single one escape!"

"yes!"

……

Ice City.

At the foot of an old residential building.

Zhuge Meng stood at the entrance of the building, wrapped in a pink down jacket and a thick scarf around her neck, curled up in a ball.

She stomped her feet and cursed, "A bunch of old fogies, too scared to come themselves, making me come all this way. Do they think I have no temper? When I get back, I'll pluck all your hair out."

A little girl next to her, with two pigtails and a pink backpack, tugged at her hand and looked up at Zhuge Meng: "Auntie, didn't you say you'd take me on an interview? What can we interview about here?"

Zhuge Meng pointed to the apartment building in front of her: "Dali, count how many floors there are first."

Zhuge Dali looked up and silently counted in her mind: "Uh... eight floors."

How many households live on one floor?

"Two households."

"So how many households are there in total?"

Zhuge Dali gave her a look that said, "You're insulting my intelligence." She said, "Auntie, I'm at least in second grade. There are sixteen households here."

Zhuge Meng clapped her hands: "Great, let's go to the eighth floor first and interview each household one by one."

Zhuge Dali paused for two seconds: "...Is this related to the question you just asked?"

"Who told you that you have to make your words coherent?" Zhuge Meng said matter-of-factly. "Besides, what's wrong with giving you some advance warning? In case you see something scary up there, you'll be mentally prepared."

Zhuge Dali: "..."

The two women climbed the stairs to the eighth floor.

Zhuge Meng stood in front of the door on the left, straightened her clothes, knocked on the door, and said in a sickeningly sweet voice, "Hello, is anyone home?"

No one responded.

She knocked twice more, placed her hand on the door, and the door creaked open.

The front door faces the living room, where an old man with gray hair, wearing a gray sweater, a blanket covering his legs, sits in a wheelchair, his head tilted to the side, facing the door, motionless.

Zhuge Meng swallowed hard and forced a smile: "Hello, I'm a student at the Bingcheng Media College. We have a class assignment that requires us to interview nearby residents. May I ask...?"

Before she could finish speaking, Zhuge Dali tugged at her sleeve: "Auntie, it seems that grandpa is dead."

Zhuge Meng patted her on the shoulder: "Kid, don't talk nonsense. She's paralyzed."

She turned to the person in the wheelchair, her tone even gentler: "I'm sorry, my niece is too young to understand."

Zhuge Dali covered her head and muttered softly, "But is she really dead?"

Zhuge Meng pretended not to hear and raised her voice slightly: "Sir, is it convenient for you to live in a wheelchair?"

There was no response from the other end.

Zhuge Meng grew a bit bolder and took another step forward.

hum-

The room suddenly shook, as if a large clock had been struck inside.

The air was shaking, and the plaster was peeling off the walls in a rustling sound.

Zhuge Meng quickly pulled Zhuge Dali back two steps and stared intently into the room.

The room returned to silence; nothing had happened.

The person in the wheelchair still had their head tilted to the side and remained motionless.

Zhuge Dali whispered, "Aunt, he's really dead."

This time, Zhuge Meng did not refute.

She also noticed that during the tremor, the person in the wheelchair didn't even flinch; a dead person can't be shaken.

"Dali, don't move. I'll go check on things."

Zhuge Dali nodded, took two steps back, and leaned against the corridor railing.

Zhuge Meng took a deep breath, carefully moved closer, and slowly reached her hand towards the door frame.

My finger just touched the edge of the door frame—

Ding!

Welcome!

An old voice suddenly appeared in her mind. The voice was soft, but every word was clear.

Zhuge Meng was so frightened that she shuddered and quickly withdrew her hand.

The sound disappeared.

She turned to look at Zhuge Dali.

Zhuge Dali looked bewildered: "What's wrong, Auntie?"

"It's nothing." Zhuge Meng shook her head, gritted her teeth, and reached out her hand again.

Fingers across the door frame—

Ding!

By the time you hear this voice, I will already be dead.

It's been so long, you finally found me. But alas, you're too late—I waited for you for so long, until I died, and you still couldn't stand before me, alive.

Now... congratulations, you've won. However, the winner is a dead man.

Even just his voice conveyed his condescending attitude—what you've painstakingly found is nothing more than my empty shell.

Zhuge Meng's face turned green.

She withdrew her hand, stood at the door, and looked constipated: "What the hell did those old guys in the clan find? They've been played for a fool."

Zhuge Dali peeked out and asked, "Auntie, what are you muttering about?"

Zhuge Meng ignored her and reached in again.

Ding! Welcome to...

She ignored the sound and yanked open the door.

boom!

The gate was closed.

Zhuge Dali was startled: "Auntie, what are you doing?"

"Let's go, let's go home." Zhuge Meng turned around and walked downstairs.

Zhuge Dali chased after her, saying, "But my social practice isn't finished yet!"

"Dali, this is your social practice, not your aunt's," Zhuge Meng said without turning her head. "So, you have to complete it yourself."

"But that's not what you said before!" Zhuge Dali exclaimed anxiously, "You also said you wanted to eat hot pot!"

Zhuge Meng stopped and turned around, her expression serious: "Now I'm going to teach you a lesson."

Zhuge Dali looked up and asked, "What?"

Zhuge Meng said in a serious tone: "Women, especially beautiful women, are the least trustworthy people."

Zhuge Dali: "..."

She opened her mouth, but couldn't utter a single word.

Zhuge Meng waved her hand and ran downstairs, the hem of her down jacket swaying loudly.

Zhuge Dali stood at the top of the stairs, watching her aunt's figure disappear around the corner, and after a long pause, she managed to utter, "Aunt!"

Zhuge Meng's voice came from downstairs: "Hurry up and come down, there's a queue for hot pot!"

Zhuge Dali sighed and chased after him with her short legs.