What do you mean by saying that the corpses I sew are all ominous creatures?

If we contact the local folklore bureau in Yunnan Province to handle it...

Although I have an A-level consultant certificate issued by the General Administration in my pocket, which grants me considerable authority.

But I am an outsider and have no connection with the local police station.

Once this matter is brought to light and handled through official channels, given the severity of the case involving so many lives lost, we will inevitably face a variety of complex inquiries.

Taking notes, writing reports, and going through a whole set of tedious procedures.

Moreover, the case I went south to handle this time was not an officially assigned case at all.

To put it bluntly, Lao Jin's truckloads of goods went through the underground black market channels, which were inherently murky and unclear.

If the local folklore bureau gets involved, and they investigate further, Lao Jin could be in big trouble, which is not in our interest.

With that in mind, I silently ruled out the option of going through the local government openly.

As for Lu Yan, there's definitely no hope for her either.

Although she is now the director of the Jiangcheng branch, she has jurisdiction over a different area.

Moreover, cross-regional case handling is already a taboo subject.

If I ask her to handle this mess, it would probably be a very troublesome and difficult matter for her as well.

She wants to suppress this matter without leaving a trace, and she will probably have to use her connections in Longhu Mountain.

I don't want to trouble Lu Yan and alarm Longhu Mountain because of this kind of Jianghu feud.

After eliminating those two options, a scarred, iron-blooded face came to mind.

It seems that the only person we can find now, and the only one who can cleanly and efficiently suppress this matter, is Lei Zhenshan, who is far away in the capital.

As the head of the Ninth Division of the Folklore Bureau, Lei Zhenshan wielded an astonishing amount of authority.

Their organization was specifically responsible for handling the most extreme and secretive supernatural conflicts in the country.

The deaths of dozens of low-level heretical practitioners are considered a major case by ordinary police stations.

But in the eyes of the Ninth Division, it was probably just an ordinary "cleaning task".

Given his connection with my father, Chen Tianhe, and the secret alliance we formed in Beijing, it would be most appropriate to ask him to clear my name.

However, right now, besides Lao Jin and me, there's Ma San and another brother driving in the front seat of the SUV.

The train was crowded and noisy, and the affairs of the Ninth Division were top secret, so it was not appropriate to discuss them in front of them.

So, I temporarily suppressed the urge to make that call.

After calming down, I closed my eyes and let the cool energy flow smoothly through my body, quietly resting and recuperating.

The night rain gradually stopped, and a faint glimmer of dawn began to appear on the horizon.

Several hours later, the bumpy mountain road finally turned into a smooth asphalt road, and we drove into the territory of Kunming without any major incidents.

As they entered a fork in the road on the edge of Chuncheng city, Lao Jin gave instructions via walkie-talkie.

The three heavy trucks, fully loaded with goods, did not stop in Chuncheng at all, nor did they slow down. They turned directly onto the highway leading north.

It seems that Lao Jin has arranged the most reliable driver, preparing to drive straight to Jiangcheng without stopping, even if the driver has to rest.

This is a very skillful approach.

Until it's clear which faction within the Lan family is targeting him, every second this shipment remains in Southern Xinjiang increases the risk of it being intercepted.

Once the goods enter Jiangcheng's territory, we're in charge.

The rest of us drove off-road vehicles and minivans into the city of Kunming to rest.

Ma San is very efficient.

Instead of taking us to a regular large hospital, he skillfully drove us to a privately-owned sanatorium in the suburbs of Kunming.

This place is clearly their usual hideout for dealing with minor injuries from the martial arts world; it's very well concealed.

The doctor quickly took the unconscious Lao Hei and the other seven people inside.

After blood tests and examinations, the doctor told us that they had been poisoned with a neurotoxin with characteristics of southern Xinjiang, accompanied by a slight hallucinogenic effect.

Because the poisoning was recent and the patients were in good health, they only needed two bottles of saline solution for detoxification and two days of rest to wake up naturally without damaging their brains or overall health.

Upon hearing the result, Jin Wanliang breathed a long sigh of relief.

He patted Ma San on the shoulder and gave him a few instructions, leaving two of his brothers to take care of him at the hospital.

Afterwards, our group left the hospital and returned to the warehouse location in the logistics park.

It was already 5:30 in the morning.

The sky over Kunming was already bright, and the roar of engines from early morning trucks could be heard from the logistics park, as the city was awakening from its slumber.

After entering the warehouse, Ma San thoughtfully arranged two quiet rest rooms with private bathrooms for Lao Jin and me respectively.

I pushed the door open and went in, then locked it behind me.

The room was simply furnished with only a bed and a table, but thankfully it was very clean.

I took off my coat, which was stained with mud and smelled faintly of blood, threw it into the plastic basket beside me, and then went into the bathroom.

Warm water gushed from the showerhead, flowing down my head and washing away the chill I had picked up in Falling Flower Town.

After showering, I changed into a clean set of black casual clothes that Ma San had prepared in advance, dried my hair, sat down at the table in the room, and took out my phone.

It's almost time.

I pulled out my contacts, found Lei Zhenshan's number, and pressed the dial button.

It's only five or six in the morning, and most people are still asleep.

However, after only two faint beeps, the call was immediately connected.

"Feed".

Lei Zhenshan's deep voice came from the other end of the phone.

The background noise was very quiet, indicating that he had either stayed up all night dealing with headquarters affairs or had already gotten up early to start his day's work.

"Uncle Lei, it's me, Chen Yang," I said.

I knew it was you.

You little rascal, didn't you just get back to Jiangcheng a few days ago?

Why are you calling me so early in the morning using this encrypted line?

Lei Zhenshan seemed to have lit a cigarette; I could hear the crisp sound of the lighter's grinding wheel.

"Where did you get into trouble?"

Lei Zhenshan was indeed perceptive; he guessed the purpose of my phone call after I only said one sentence.

He knows our type of people all too well.

Unless there's an emergency, I would never proactively call him.

Faced with Lei Zhenshan's direct approach, I didn't beat around the bush either.

"I'm not in Jiangcheng. I ran into some trouble in the southern border region and killed a few evil cultivators."

On the other end of the phone, Lei Zhenshan's breathing paused slightly for half a second.

He understood what I meant almost instantly.

But what was both surprising and reasonable was that Lei Zhenshan didn't ask any unnecessary questions.

He didn't ask me why I went to southern Xinjiang, nor did he ask how those evil cultivators had offended me, and he didn't reprimand me for indiscriminate killing in the tone of an official from the Bureau of Folklore.

He simply asked four words:

"Specific location."

This tacit understanding made me feel at ease.

Communicating with smart and shrewd people can indeed save you a lot of unnecessary trouble.